“Yes, aren’t our two apartments built with the same layout?” The old lady looked at Xu Luling, confused by her sudden change in demeanour. “Young lady, are you alright? You don’t look well.”
“I just remembered something.” Xu Luling waved her hand, offering a vague excuse before quickly bidding the old lady farewell.
Facing her own apartment door, Xu Luling took several deep breaths before finally opening it.
Standing at the entrance, she observed the height of the interior walls.
Although it was a single-story apartment, the ceiling was much higher than usual, which explained why the security guards hadn’t noticed anything strange during their visit. The old lady next door had sacrificed some ceiling height to create a comfortable duplex layout.
Before all of this, Xu Luling wouldn’t have thought twice about the differences between the neighboring apartments. But after everything that had happened—the feeling of being watched, the mysterious sounds of appliances running on their own, and the eerily clean dishes—she could no longer shake the feeling that there was indeed a “ghost” in the house. If it wasn’t all in her mind, then there was truly something, or someone, hiding in her home.
Not wanting to be labeled crazy again, Xu Luling opened the official website of the construction company responsible for the complex.
After digging through the site, she finally found the blueprints for the building and confirmed the exact height of the top floor. Then, she grabbed a ladder from the storage room and used a tape measure to measure the ceiling height in the living room.
When she calculated the difference, her heart sank.
1.5 meters had disappeared from the apartment’s vertical space.
A shiver ran down her spine, her mind going blank for a moment.
Now, if she called the police or security again, she feared it would feel like crying wolf. Her credibility was already at risk, and if she faced a real danger in the future, no one might take her seriously.
Xu Luling combined all the strange clues from the past few weeks and decided to gather evidence on her own.
Another factor weighed on her mind—this hidden space could have been created by Pei Ruyin. Why would he go through the trouble of building such a concealed area? What was he hiding?
From the fact that she hadn’t been harmed, she inferred that the “ghost” had no intention of hurting her.
With that in mind, she guessed the possible identity of the mysterious presence.
However, if the person she suspected was indeed involved, then the victim of the Shitong River case couldn’t be that person, as they had been seen after the airport incident.
For a brief moment, she didn’t know whether to feel relieved.
But everything depended on one thing—she had to find that missing 1.5 meters.
With this resolve, Xu Luling grabbed a homemade pepper spray from the entryway. It was a combination of chili powder and pepper she had prepared herself when she started feeling unsafe at home.
It was crude, but effective.
She also left the front door wide open and sent a message to Wu Na, stating that if she didn’t send a follow-up message in 30 minutes, Wu Na should call the police.
Wu Na replied: [Again with the police?! What’s going on over there? Do you need help? You even took a day off today!]
Xu Luling texted back: [I’ll explain later.]
Wu Na found her friend’s behavior increasingly strange, but as her best friend, she trusted that Xu Luling wouldn’t send such messages without reason and assured her she understood.
The notification bar on her phone also showed a message from Pei Ruyin, who had shared a picture of the morning traffic jam—a part of their daily routine, filled with meaningless but familiar conversations.
Xu Luling turned off her phone without reacting.
Next, she checked every room in the apartment.
She paid special attention to the ceiling, searching for any hidden openings, but found nothing out of the ordinary. In hindsight, it made sense—if something were that obvious, she would have noticed it during her daily life.
The apartment was silent, just like her own mood, eerily quiet.
As she thought back over the details of her search, her attention shifted to the storage room where she had grabbed the ladder.
The room was filled with large custom-made cabinets that had been there for years, usually packed with clutter. She only entered the room when she needed something, never taking the time to inspect it closely.
She turned on a flashlight and opened the cabinet doors, using a clothes rod to tap on the tops of the shelves.
Suddenly, one of the cabinets, which was unusually empty, caught her attention. It was large but didn’t seem to hold anything.
When she knocked on it, there was a hollow, muffled sound.
It was empty.
She might have found it!
Climbing onto the ladder, flashlight in hand, she inspected the top of the cabinet closely. There, hidden in an inconspicuous corner, she found a small handle perfectly blended with the wood grain.
If someone had wanted to make the handle even harder to find, they could’ve easily nailed another board over it.
She tugged on the handle tentatively, and to her surprise, the moment she touched it, it triggered a mechanism, and a folded ladder automatically dropped down.
The sudden noise startled Xu Luling, sending a cold gust of air from the hidden space above that swept past her hair. Shivering, she quickly stepped off the ladder and hid behind the storage room door.
She held the pepper spray tightly in her hand. According to her plan, if she heard someone coming down from the attic but didn’t detect any further movement, the person might come down to investigate. After all, she wasn’t the only one living in this house.
But things didn’t go as expected. She waited for a long time without hearing any sounds.
Her determination to uncover the truth grew stronger. Overcoming her fear, she stepped onto the folding ladder, sniffed the air—no unusual smells—and cautiously climbed up with the pepper spray in one pocket and a small knife hidden in her sleeve, ready for any potential confrontation.
Carefully, she poked her head into the attic and glanced around.
The space was completely open, large, and empty—no furniture in sight.
Most importantly, no one was there.
The attic’s walls were made from a special material that matched the building’s exterior tiles, creating a visual illusion that made it hard to distinguish from the outside. Light still filtered in, and there was a small window for ventilation.
The attic floor was spotless, as if it had been regularly cleaned.
In the corners, there were some spare clothes and essential living supplies, indicating that someone had lived there. Among the belongings, she spotted the black hoodie from the video clip.
What stood out the most were several upright objects scattered around, all covered with white cloth.
This space was different from what Xu Luling had imagined—clean and tidy. If Pei Ruyin had explained that he just needed a private area to relax occasionally, she might have believed him.
She fully climbed into the attic. At her height of 1.62 meters, she had to stoop slightly to avoid hitting her head.
Crunch.
She stepped on something.
When she picked it up, she nearly threw it away in horror. It was something all too familiar—one of the hidden surveillance cameras.
A chill ran through her entire body. So the 23 cameras the police had found before weren’t the full count.
Who was trying to watch them?
More accurately, who was trying to watch her?
She moved toward one of the covered objects, and as she lifted the white cloth, she nearly collapsed onto the floor.
“Ugh…!”
She covered her mouth, swallowing the scream that nearly escaped.
It was a white cat, its internal organs removed, leaving only the skin and fur. It had been mounted on a frame to dry.
Its eyes had been gouged out, leaving hollow sockets that seemed to stare at her.
Xu Luling froze in place, terrified.
She recognized the cat—it was Cream.
The inside of the cat’s skin reflected a slight shine, likely from a preservative coating. It was the process of turning an animal into a specimen.
She also noticed a large bloodstain on the floor. Below that spot was the exact location of her bedroom. The blood had dried, leaving behind dark red stains.
The blood didn’t seem to have come from the cat. A small cat couldn’t lose that much blood, and judging by the sheen of its fur, Cream had died some time before being turned into a specimen. It was even less likely the blood came from the cat.
Most disturbingly, she recognized a watch lying near the bloodstain.
If she remembered correctly, it was the same watch Pei Ruyin had worn twenty days ago before leaving for his business trip. Even from a distance, she could see the shattered glass face and the dried blood drops on it.
When she had picked up Pei Ruyin from the airport, he had said the watch had gone missing, along with his ring.
Unable to continue looking, Xu Luling rushed downstairs to the bathroom, her stomach churning violently, but she couldn’t throw up.
Ten minutes later, Detective Yang and his team arrived in response to her call. They found her sitting pale and composed on the sofa.
A female officer, moved by her calm demeanor, draped a blanket over her shoulders. “Miss Xu, please sit down and rest for a while. Our forensics team will be here shortly to inspect the suspicious areas.”
Xu Luling grabbed the officer’s arm. “I might have disturbed the scene. I took a few steps inside and lifted the cloth.”
The officer reassured her, saying it was fine. It was rare to see a victim so conscious of preserving a crime scene. If the circumstances weren’t so grim, she would have praised her.
Detective Yang also expressed his regret. “This is partly our fault. We didn’t thoroughly inspect the place when we found the surveillance cameras.” At the time, they had treated it as a routine voyeurism case.
Xu Luling sat in a daze on the sofa when her phone vibrated—it was Wu Na, checking in because she hadn’t received the promised safety message.
Xu Luling briefly explained what had happened.
Wu Na responded with three exclamation marks.
Soon after, the forensics team began a thorough sweep of the attic.
News quickly came back that the items covered by the white cloth were indeed animal specimens, some complete, others in progress. Based on the markings on the fur, the animals had been subjected to cruelty before being made into specimens.
It was an extremely cruel act—a disturbing display of victory by turning the dead animals into trophies.
However, the forensics team did not find the missing head from the Shitong River case.
What they did discover was that the bloodstain on the attic floor was indeed human. Further lab analysis was required to determine more details.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Detective Yang asked, “What time did ‘Pei Ruyin’ leave this morning? And what did he take with him?”
Since she had been paying attention to the time, waiting for Pei Ruyin to leave, Xu Luling clearly remembered and quickly gave them the exact time. “He left with a briefcase and a black garbage bag. He takes out the trash every morning.”
Detective Yang exchanged glances with the other officers and immediately gave orders—one team was sent to Pei Ruyin’s current company, another to check road surveillance, and a third to search nearby garbage bins. They had to act quickly before the garbage trucks came through.
Hearing Detective Yang’s instructions, Xu Luling had a realization of her own.
Her expression turned blank as she muttered to herself, “He’s Pei RuXiao…”
In the following hours, the police discovered a human head, treated with preservatives, hidden in a trash bin three kilometers from the residence. The bloodstains in the attic were later matched to the DNA of the victim in the Shitong River case.
It was confirmed—Pei Ruyin had died on the day of his disappearance at the airport.
Even though Xu Luling had reported the situation to the police in time, it was still too late.
Detective Yang, seeing Xu Luling’s devastated state, felt a pang of guilt. He still remembered how in love the couple had seemed. The fact that she remained so composed despite everything was admirable.
Detective Yang added, “There’s one more thing you should know. We found another hidden surveillance camera in the bedroom, right where the ceiling light connects to the ceiling. It must have been placed after we removed the previous ones.”
He didn’t need to say more—Xu Luling understood.
Who else could have put it there?
And that bloodstain… it was exactly where the head had been placed.
Pei RuXiao had deliberately made the head “watch” as they were intimate in the bedroom, a twisted act of flaunting his control.
Thinking of how long she had been in that room with the head, Xu Luling clutched the trash bin, gagging violently until she had nothing left in her stomach, her eyes filling with tears.
Detective Yang handed her a glass of water, explaining, “We now have sufficient evidence to believe that ‘Pei Ruyin’ is the primary suspect. Miss Xu, we’ll need you to come to the station to assist with the investigation.”
Wiping her tears, Xu Luling weakly nodded. “Okay…”
While Xu Luling was at the station giving her statement, the police arrived at ‘Pei Ruyin’s’ new workplace. However, the receptionist informed them that ‘Pei Ruyin’ had rejected their job offer the previous day and they had no idea of his current whereabouts.
Pei RuXiao’s car was found in a nearby public parking lot, but he had disappeared from surveillance shortly after.
It was clear that Pei RuXiao had strong counter-surveillance skills.
He seemed to be well aware of the police’s movements, escaping before they could catch him. This outcome didn’t surprise the authorities—given the presence of the surveillance cameras, Pei RuXiao likely knew everything happening in the apartment.
What puzzled the police was that Pei RuXiao had no formal training in hacking or electronics. Even in college, he had barely passed his computer science courses, making it improbable that he had the skills to set up such sophisticated surveillance systems.
It was concluded that only Pei RuXiao could have tampered with the internal wiring of the cameras.
However, Pei RuXiao was a “dead” man. He hadn’t even attended school normally, so how could someone like him have acquired such advanced technical skills?
In the end, the police could only attribute it to Pei RuXiao’s innate talent.
Since they had lost track of Pei RuXiao, Detective Yang explained, “Miss Xu, he cares about you deeply and might return to the apartment. He could also try to contact you, so we’ll stay with you at the apartment.”
Xu Luling thought the police were too optimistic. Given that Pei RuXiao had already disappeared, he was surely aware of everything happening at the apartment. Someone as cunning as him wouldn’t call back and walk into a trap.
But later that night, she did receive a call from him.
The police officers around her perked up, signaling for her to answer and try to keep him on the line for as long as possible to facilitate the trace.
Xu Luling answered the call, hearing nothing but steady breathing on the other end.
The man remained silent, so she gently said, “Hello?”
A low voice responded, “Are the police with you right now?”
Glancing at the officers, Xu Luling remained silent.
The man didn’t seem to care. “You’re still the same. You’ve always been that righteous, shining little sun since college.”
Even at this moment, when he was backed into a corner, the man was still smiling, as if he had anticipated all of this.
“You’re not him! Don’t act like you know me!” Xu Luling’s pent-up grief suddenly erupted, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably.
Detective Yang’s gestures reminded her to control her emotions, and she quickly composed herself, though her eyes were still brimming with tears. She apologized to the officers with a bow.
She had been holding everything in for so long that her rage flared uncontrollably when provoked.
The officers, empathetic to her pain, looked away, unable to bear seeing her like this.
Fighting through her anguish, Xu Luling asked the one question burning in her heart, “Why… why did you kill him? Was it an accident, or was it intentional?”
The man didn’t answer. Instead, he said something completely unrelated.
“Luling, I love you.”
With that, the man hung up.
The line went dead—beep, beep, beep.
The call had been too short for the police to trace his location.
Xu Luling was stunned. Pei RuXiao’s voice sounded almost exactly like Pei Ruyin’s, but Pei Ruyin had always been a reserved man. In the five years they had been together, he had never spoken words of love so directly.
This was the first and last time.
Even if it was fake.
–
On the other side of the city.
“Pei Ruyin” stood in the living room of an old house. It was the first house he had bought with the money he earned from trading stocks during his time studying abroad, a place not even Xu Luling knew about.
Wearing gloves, he hung up the phone and used a SIM card tool to remove the card from his phone. With a snap, he broke it in half and tossed both the card and the phone into the trash.
Knock, knock.
There was a knock at the door.
He walked over, opened the door, and greeted the visitor, “You’ve arrived.”
–
Xu Luling and the police waited all night, but there was no further call from Pei RuXiao. When they tried calling him back, the phone was off.
Meanwhile, the police had uncovered records showing that years ago, Pei Ruyin had purchased an old house on the outskirts of town under a friend’s name while studying abroad. A team of officers was dispatched to investigate the property.
A female officer noticed how pale and exhausted Xu Luling was. Worried she might collapse, the officer suggested she rest while they kept watch.
Barely able to stay upright, Xu Luling finally lay down.
She hadn’t been asleep for long when the police stormed into the old house.
They arrived just in time to see Pei RuXiao leaping from the building.
They tried to stop him, but it was too late.
When Xu Luling was informed, her first reaction was disbelief.
Although she hadn’t spent much time with Pei RuXiao, she was sure of one thing—he was a very confident, even narcissistic, man. He possessed a sharp mind and was a meticulous planner, a selfish person who always looked out for his own interests. He wouldn’t have chosen to end his life when there was even the slightest chance of survival, especially before standing trial.
Yet the fact remained—Pei RuXiao was dead.
The police confirmed his identity by comparing biological samples taken from the brothers’ family home, matching the deceased to Pei RuXiao.
According to the police, Pei RuXiao had been overwhelmed with guilt after killing his twin brother, leading to his suicide.
Xu Luling later matched the ring found in the snake’s stomach to her own, and when the two were put together, they formed the simplified image of a deer.
It was likely that during the brothers argument, one of the rings had fallen and been swallowed by the black-browed viper by chance.
With that, the Shitong River case was officially closed.
However, in Xu Luling’s heart, she never fully escaped the rainy season of that year.
Whether it was Pei Ruyin or Pei RuXiao, the memories of the past five years had left a permanent, dark shadow over her.
–
Two years later.
A group of office workers in business attire exited a CBD office building, laughing and chatting about where to go after work.
Xu Luling suddenly spotted a car parked on the side of the road with its hazard lights on. A smile crept onto her face, and she turned to her colleagues, “Next time, I’ll join you. I’ve got something to take care of today.”
Her coworkers also noticed the car and immediately began gossiping about the latest office romance.
“Is that President Jiang?”
“Hasn’t he been pursuing Xu Luling for two years now? Congratulations, Jiang finally won her over!”
“Xu Luling is really responsible when it comes to suitors. She didn’t date anyone for a long time because she wasn’t ready.”
“Her ex-boyfriend passed away two years ago under mysterious circumstances, right? I heard he didn’t have any family, and Xu Luling handled the funeral on her own. She was really devastated and even took a six-month leave from work.”
Few details had been made public about Pei Ruyin’s death, and Xu Luling’s colleagues only knew that her ex-boyfriend had died suddenly.
“This topic is too heavy. Let’s get back to President Jiang. I heard he inherited a massive fortune from a distant relative and started his own gaming company. A high-class guy like that? And Xu Luling turned him down dozens of times?”
“Apparently, he has no parents, no siblings. In ancient times, he’d be considered the ultimate catch!”
“Even so, it took him 81 challenges to win over Xu Luling!”
While the conversation continued, Wu Na, who hadn’t participated, suddenly interrupted. “Did you know that on Luling’s 18th birthday, her family gifted her an entire building? Guess who rented out a whole floor from her?”
Her colleagues exchanged glances. “You don’t mean…”
Wu Na gave them a knowing look but said no more.
As Xu Luling’s best friend, Wu Na didn’t want to gossip recklessly. Most people only knew that, for two years, Xu Luling had rejected all suitors, but they didn’t know the full extent of what she had gone through, including the severe psychological issues she had faced. After Pei Ruyin’s death, many mysteries remain unsolved, but with the key figures involved now deceased, those secrets were buried forever.
Jiang Ruosheng had entered her life during her most vulnerable time. After falling for her at first sight, he pursued her relentlessly.
His presence had been like a ray of light in her darkest hours.
Wu Na hoped the shadows cast by the Pei brothers would eventually fade with time. Xu Luling didn’t deserve to be trapped in the past forever.
Watching Xu Luling’s lighthearted demeanor as she walked toward the car, Wu Na felt genuinely happy for her friend.
When Xu Luling reached the car, the door opened in advance.
The first thing people notice about Jiang Ruosheng wasn’t his face, but the sharp, commanding aura that made it hard to look directly at him. His features were chiseled, his eyes piercing—completely different from Pei Ruyin.
But when he smiled, faint wrinkles softened his intense aura, giving him a surprisingly approachable charm.
He handed her a bag from her favorite dessert shop, smiling warmly. “I picked up some tiramisu for you on my way here.”
For a moment, Xu Luling felt a jolt of deja vu, as if this moment had happened before.
But then she shook herself out of it, realizing who was standing before her, and accepted the bag as she climbed into the car.
“Did Wu Na tell you that’s my favorite?” she teased.
Jiang Ruosheng sheepishly admitted, “I did a little homework.”
Smiling, Xu Luling let the moment pass without further teasing.
She opened the cake box and stared at the dessert inside. It was exactly the same as the one from two years ago, leaving her momentarily lost in thought.
After the incident, she had developed a severe eating disorder, unable to keep anything down. She had been hospitalized for a while.
Somehow, Jiang Ruosheng had learned about her condition and started cooking for her.
At first, his attempts were a disaster—clumsy and full of mistakes—but over time, he got better. Xu Luling watched his efforts and slowly began eating the meals he prepared. Her appetite gradually improved.
She had been stuck in the quicksand of her past.
And Jiang Ruosheng had been the one to pull her out.
After dropping her off at her dance class, where they had made plans to meet after, Jiang Ruosheng drove a few more blocks, turned a corner, and arrived at a cosmetic surgery clinic.
He had an appointment, and it was quickly his turn. As soon as the lead surgeon saw him, he recognized him immediately.
How could he forget a client like this? A man born with such natural good looks but who insisted on making himself less attractive—what a peculiar case of aesthetics.
Today, Jiang Ruosheng had a simple request: he wanted all his pre-surgery photos and records permanently deleted. It wasn’t the first time the doctor had heard such a request—many of his clients, especially celebrities, wanted their records erased for privacy reasons.
The surgeon refused outright. “I’m sorry, but we follow strict ethical guidelines. Please don’t make this difficult for me.”
Jiang Ruosheng didn’t argue. Instead, he calmly fiddled with his phone, and soon the doctor’s phone chimed with a message notification. He checked it, and what he saw nearly gave him a heart attack—an astronomical sum of money had just been transferred to his account.
Still, the doctor stood his ground, though his voice wavered slightly. “I’m sorry, but this really isn’t allowed.”
Another message came through.
The notifications kept coming.
The doctor didn’t dare look at his phone anymore. “…”
After an indeterminate number of notifications, the doctor’s voice trembled. “Well then, Mr. Jiang, if you’ll follow me to the records room…”
The doctor pulled out a stack of old photos from a drawer. These were pictures of Jiang Ruosheng before his surgery.
One photo slipped from the stack and fluttered to the floor.
In the photo, the man looked exactly like Pei Ruyin.
—END—
