The World Below Surface - Chapter 38

[TN: I think it is time to start guessing who will survive, who will not. Or maybe no one?] [Comment below ^^]

“Hey, QingQing, what’s up?” Yun Qian noticed that her bosom friend seemed off today.

Wen Qing seemed haunted by something, her face pallid and forehead drenched in sweat. When they departed from class earlier, even a light tap on her back was enough to make Wen Qing scream in terror.

This was uncharacteristic of her.

Wen Qing still bore a petrified expression. She appeared on the verge of saying something, yet she clamped her lips together and shook her head, electing to remain silent.

Yun Qian felt ill at ease witnessing her friend’s distress. She stretched her hand and held Wen Qing’s, feeling an iciness she had never before experienced. “Shall we depart together after school?” she inquired.

“Nay, I am fine,” Wen Qing declined again, shaking her head. “I have something to attend to.”

“What is it? Do you want me to accompany you?” Yun Qian asked. “You know my parents never bother about me. I finished my homework today, so I have nothing to do at home.”

As Wen Qing hesitated, Yun Qian shook her friend’s arm. “Come on; it’ll be fun… Wait, what’s that odour?”

Abruptly, Yun Qian caught a strange smell emanating from Wen Qing’s schoolbag. She was intrigued and queried, “QingQing, what is in your bag? The smell is so…”

“Nothing!” Wen Qing’s face changed drastically as soon as Yun Qian asked. She hurriedly covered her bag with her hands. “Nothing at all!”

Seeing this, Yun Qian’s suspicion deepened. But seeing how nervous Wen Qing was, she decided to step back. “Okay, okay, if you say there’s nothing, then there’s nothing.”

As school let out, Yun Qian covertly trailed behind Wen Qing onto a bus, which they swapped out at each stop, venturing further and further into the countryside.

What could Wen Qing possibly be up to? Was she walking into danger?

Finally, the bus pulled over to a remote location, a lonely road that led to an unknown destination. Yun Qian didn’t have time to hide before her presence was discovered…

“I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay…” Yun Qian stuttered nervously, aware that being followed was never welcome.

Wen Qing sighed, “Ah, forget it. We’ll return together after I finish what I came for.”

Yun Qian breathed a small sigh of relief, “Sure. By the way, what are you doing out here?”

Wen Qing’s eyes glistened with tears, “Little Mimi passed away. I need to give it a proper burial.”

Yun Qian’s heart sank at the news, “Oh my! ”

Yun Qian didn’t know whether to grieve for Little Mimi first or ask why Wen Qing had to bury it in such a remote place. She had always noticed how much Wen Qing cared for that cat. After thinking for a while, she awkwardly said, “Take care of yourself and don’t be too sad… By the way, why did Little Mimi… was it your dad?”

Wen Qing’s father loathed cats, especially black ones, unlike his daughter. Being in business, he believed black cats were a sign of misfortune and would bring about financial loss. Yun Qian had been to Wen Qing’s house several times and overheard them quarrel over the cat. Her father had even threatened to buy rat poison to kill it.

Despite Wen Qing’s insistence on keeping the cat, her father didn’t want it to remain at their house. As a result, Wen Qing and the cat moved to her grandma’s house.

“Not him. My father is still away on a business trip and hasn’t returned yet.” She shook her head, reluctant to divulge the identity of the culprit.

It dawned on Yun Qian that the unsettling odour emanating from her backpack might be…

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, causing her to move away from her friend’s backpack instinctively. However, she quickly realized the need to be more righteous and reached out to clasp her friend’s icy hand, whispering, “Why must you venture to such a remote locale? And where exactly are you headed?”

Wen Qing’s response was scarcely audible; her voice laced with an eerie quality, “Yin—Yang Road…”

Yun Qian recoiled in fright, the pallid complexion of her friend unnerving her. She hesitated before managing to inquire, “Why there?”

Yin—Yang Road lay on the southwest fringes of their city, already a remote location. It was initially slated for a train station to boost economic growth. However, construction work proved to be fraught with mishaps. The fatality rate of labourers was unprecedented, and even the contractor fell victim to the same fate. Later, a feng shui master was consulted, and the station plans were abandoned and replaced with an ordinary road. Despite its eerie moniker, no one contested the decision to name it Yin—Yang Road, and the name endured.

Legend had it that the area was where the forces of Yin and Yang converge, with few brave souls daring to venture there. As a result, Yin—Yang Road became infamous, attracting thrill-seekers and social media enthusiasts alike, only for them to disappear or suffer a grizzly fate.

Wen Qing’s reassurance echoed in her mind, “Don’t fret.” She urged, “Let’s take Little Mi there. Nothing will happen.”

Yun Qian acquiesced, and the duo boarded another bus.

As they watched the bus getting further and further away from the main road and the bleakness of the outskirts encroach, a knot formed in Yun Qian’s stomach.

“We’re at Yin—Yang Road.” The driver’s gravelly voice announced the terminus.

Save for the two girls; the bus was devoid of any passengers.

As they disembarked, a frigid gust welcomed them, inducing a shiver. Yun Qian surveyed their surroundings, “So this is Yin—Yang Road, quite desolate.”

The bareness of the trees, the hushed atmosphere, and the absence of life rendered the place eerie. The hum of silence was only punctuated by the sound of their footsteps and the whispers of the wind. There wasn’t even a single bird.

“Actually, we need to go a bit further.” Wen Qing corrected before marching ahead. Yun Qian trailed closely.

The sun set, casting a foreboding pall over the surroundings. It was as if the darkness was thicking and liking its sharp teeth.

In the distance, an SUV approached, carrying four passengers.

Meanwhile, Lu Yan left the strange hotel, lingering in the middle of the sidewalk, unsure of his next move.

Suddenly, something soft brushed against his leg.

Lu Yan’s gaze fell upon a small black cat whose green eyes shimmered brightly in the sunset. The feline held something in its mouth, and as he examined it, Lu Yan noticed a lost cat poster affixed to the electricity pole nearby, featuring a cat identical to the one before him.

He muttered hesitantly, “Little Mimi?”

To his surprise, the cat nodded, conveying an understanding beyond its species. It leapt onto his hand, released the item it had clutched, and then alighted on his shoulder. Lu Yan examined the object the cat had relinquished, a student ID card bearing a girl’s name. It matched the contact person listed on the lost cat poster.

He surmised that the girl was the black cat’s owner, yet his altruism was not forthcoming, and the situation struck him as suspicious. As he was about to decline, he gazed into the black cat’s eyes, which bore an uncanny resemblance to human eyes.

Eventually, he relented and decided to track down the cat’s owner, Wen Qing, at her residence.

Upon arrival, he discovered Wen Qing was absent, though a gracious elder was present. After bidding his farewell, Lu Yan involuntarily turned back, only to glimpse the cat on the balcony, its eyes filled with mixed emotions. Its gaze was not that of an ordinary cat; instead, it seemed to belong to a human.

Their eyes met for only a fleeting moment before Lu Yan rapidly departed.

Inside the apartment, the old woman scooped up the kitten from the balcony and murmured, “Where could QingQing have gone? Why hasn’t she returned home, even at this late hour?”

The kitten remained silent. Its deep green irises flickered with a hint of red, observing the older woman’s hasty retreat into the little room.

**

“I never thought we would have to return to that cursed road to play this game again.” Four individuals, three men and one woman, sat in an off-road vehicle. The man seated at the back spoke.

Shi Yan seized the conversation, “However, it appears that the place should be safe.” They returned safely the day before, so nothing unexpected should occur today, right?

Ye Sheng Ke agreed with a nod, “Hopefully.”

As they travelled forward, the road grew increasingly bleak. The twilight failed to penetrate the surroundings despite the sun having just set. It was as though the clouds in this area could swallow all light and warmth.

Further ahead, it grew colder and darker. The surroundings became entirely pitch-black, with their hands barely visible before their faces. Even the headlights appeared to be engulfed by the thick shroud of darkness.

After arriving at the place they had played the previous night, they turned the corner and collided with something. None of the four proposed getting out of the car to investigate, and they continued driving forward.

After a while, an abandoned building came into view.

The headlights pierced the darkness and revealed the two-story, abandoned building that occupied a space of two or three hundred square metres. Its decrepit walls were riddled with holes, and half of the second floor had already collapsed, leaving the building on the brink of imminent destruction.

“This is it,” Shi Yan said as she surveyed the building. “It’s eerie, to say the least.”

The structure was a natural horror house, with decay and dilapidation engulfing every inch of its exterior. Even under the glare of the headlights, it failed to offer any comfort, as if something malevolent resided within.

They were about to play the ghost summoning game inside the building later.

“The game we were assigned is also available in our world. However, if it were in the past, I would have dismissed it as a scam,” Ye Sheng Ke shared his thoughts.

“I wish it were,” one of them muttered, “so we wouldn’t be here doing this now…”

“Enough,” Chu Xiu interrupted. “We should focus on the steps for the game later.”

The mission mandated them to stay in the building for an hour before they could leave. The four of them surveyed the structure carefully. Unfortunately, the inside of the building was too dark to make out anything.

“Let’s go inside and figure out which room to play in later,” Chu Xiu suggested.

He was the first to get off the car, holding a flashlight and standing beside it.

The others quickly followed suit, unbuckling their seat belts and getting off the car, each holding a flashlight and standing by his side.

As they stood before the looming building, a shiver of otherworldly cold crept up their spines, sending chills through their bodies. It was a feeling they hadn’t experienced during their car ride, a feeling that warned of danger and the unknown.

Despite the fear that gripped them, they knew the mission had to be done. “Let’s go,” Chu Xiu spoke calmly. “We’ll come back later.”

The four walked in unison, approaching the small building and pushing open the creaky front door on the ground floor. The door, wrought with rust and peeling paint, resisted their efforts to open it, screeching loudly as they heaved it aside, protesting their intrusion.

As they entered, the scene on the ground floor greeted them with a thick layer of dust that rose with the door’s movement. Cobwebs clung to every corner, and the worn tables and chairs were a testament to the years of neglect.

“I heard a train station was supposed to be built here,” one of them remarked. “But it was abandoned after a series of accidents. The workers probably built this building at that time.”

Their research on Yin—Yang Road revealed a dark and ominous history, suggesting it was not a place for the faint-hearted. Ghost stories circulated like a disease, and now that they stood in the heart of it, they knew the rumours held truth.

The lobby was spacious and bare, the flashlight beam casting eerie shadows against the walls. Their eyes scanned the room for anything out of place, but nothing could be seen. Of course, playing a supernatural game in the middle of nowhere was not ordinary, to begin with.

Shi Yan hesitated, covering her mouth due to the excessive dust, as she surveyed the dusty hall. “Are we going to play here?” she asked, her voice muffled.

Chu Xiu nodded in affirmation. “Yes, right here.”

The others looked at each other, bewildered. “Why?” Nie Yun Zhen asked, frowning.

Chu Xiu spoke gravely, “According to the legend of the Four Corners game, the more rounds you make, the greater the likelihood of something happening. We should make our rounds larger to minimize the number of rounds we make. This way, we reduce the probability of hearing or not hearing coughing sounds.”

Chu Xiu’s explanation failed to remove the chill in the air. Although it was no guarantee that they would avoid ghosts, it was better than nothing.

The others listened to Chu Xiu’s words and nodded their agreement. They walked around the hall once, noting the time and checking their watches.

They had spent a lot of money on the most accurate watches to prevent being lost in the task due to timing. Their timepieces were luminous, with two pointers that emitted an eerie green light in the darkness.

The time was 11:25 pm. It would take about twelve minutes to complete one round. They would hear coughing sounds every twelve minutes, and even if they slowed down, they couldn’t stretch it beyond fifteen minutes.

They had to complete at least four rounds in an hour.

The four retreated to the car and fell into an uneasy silence. Time slipped away, each second a painful reminder of their dread. Before long, the clock struck midnight. The witching hour had arrived.

According to the game rules, no light was allowed. They left their flashlights behind. The car’s lights flickered off as they stepped out, and the inky blackness of the night smothered them whole.

The gate hung ajar, beckoning to them. One by one, they slipped through its creaking jaws and shut the door behind them. “As we agreed,” Chu Xiu murmured, “find your spot.” He walked towards the diagonal left, Ye Sheng Ke to the diagonal right, Nie Yun Zhen in the left corner, and Shi Yan to the right. Each stood sentinel in their assigned corner, their backs to one another.

“Are we all set?” Chu Xiu asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m ready.”

“Affirmative.”

“Excellent. Cover your watches with your sleeve and take one last glance. In three seconds, we begin,” Chu Xiu commanded.

Three.

Two.

One.

The game was afoot. Chu Xiu clockwise traced the wall, his steps measured and deliberate. It was said that a lack of vitamin A in the body could lead to night blindness, making it difficult to see things at night.

Despite training their night vision to the peak of their capabilities, the complete darkness rendered their efforts futile. The four were reduced to groping through the abyss, blinded to their surroundings. Chu Xiu hugged the wall as he walked, his footsteps muffled by the ominous silence.

The first-floor lobby was long and narrow, rectangular, meaning he didn’t have to walk a long way in the first round.

Still, he slowed his pace. The other two members in the corners kept time, their minds counting the seconds.

After what felt like an eternity, he felt a presence. A person close by. Ye Sheng Ke, judging by the direction.

As Chu Xiu approached, Ye Sheng Ke apparently sensed him too and retreated, giving him the corner position. Ye Sheng Ke continued down the passage, his steps measured and careful. Chu Xiu breathed a sigh of relief.

Almost five minutes passed before the first set of footsteps ceased, followed by a second set, distinct from the previous ones.

The path ahead was shrouded in darkness, and Ye Sheng Ke’s eyes could discern nothing. Whether he opened or covered them made no difference. He pressed forward, the only way to go, one step at a time.

The darkness was oppressive as if it had a will of its own that sought to consume his very being. Ye Sheng Ke’s mind was plagued with wild thoughts. One moment, he feared a phantom might materialize before him; the next, he worried that the person he would swap with at the next corner would not be his senior sister. As his imagination ran amok, he rounded the corner.

A figure stood there, and he could sense its body warmth and a faint fragrance.

It was his senior sister!

Shi Yan made way for him and proceeded forward, step by measured step.

The path ahead was particularly special, passing by the main entrance. After some time, Shi Yan surmised that she had almost arrived.

Suddenly, a metallic sound echoed through the air.

Her footsteps faltered momentarily, and she felt the urge to turn and flee. But the thought of the consequences of failure held her in place, and she gritted her teeth, pressing on despite her fear.

When the others heard Shi Yan’s footsteps stutter, they feared the worst, their hearts racing. Fortunately, her gait quickly steadied, and Ye Sheng Ke breathed a sigh of relief, convincing himself that it was a mere misstep.

In due course, Shi Yan arrived at Nie Yun Zhen’s location.

As Nie Yun Zhen sensed someone walking towards him, his heart raced, and he felt the heat source gradually approaching him. He stepped back, making space for the approaching figure before turning his head, locking onto the next corner clockwise.

Under normal circumstances, the next corner should be deserted; he needed to cough and walk to Chu Xiu’s position. Still, he couldn’t help but ponder the possibility of something being there – something that shouldn’t be.

Despite his apprehension, Nie Yun Zhen took a deep breath, holding back his fear. Donning a coat with a spacious pocket, he’d secured the statue, even if its eerie aura unsettled him. He needed it to survive the next seven days – no matter the risks, even if the statue concealed an evil spirit.

He’d prayed to countless gods in the past, but none had ever come to his aid. He didn’t care anymore whether he believed in ghosts or evil gods. His survival was all that mattered.

Wait, where’s the statue?!

His hands shook as he searched his pocket to no avail. Panic surged through him as he broke out in a cold sweat. He knew he had placed the statue in his pocket, but when had it vanished?

Could the others have stolen it?

As soon as the idea struck him, it clung to him like the resilient wild grass of spring, refusing to be shaken off. The more Nie Yun Zhen ruminated on it, the more plausible it seemed, and his breaths became increasingly laboured.

Just then, he rounded the corner.

The space before him was empty, devoid of any presence.

Nie Yun Zhen released a deep sigh of relief and coughed a few times heavily before resuming his advance.

The other three breathed a similar sigh of relief upon hearing his coughs.

There was no ghost during the Four Corners game’s first round.

Yet, as Nie Yun Zhen made his first step, a sudden realization sent chills down his spine.

Why did it seem like someone else had just coughed alongside him?!

He had only coughed thrice; where had the fourth noise come from?

It had already happened… A ghost had slithered its way in!

And it was now perilously close.

Nie Yun Zhen’s heart pounded, but the Four Corners game couldn’t halt. No matter how paralyzed he felt, he had to remain vigilant and keep moving.

Where had the ghost vanished to? Was it still stalking him?

Please, no… Just leave me be!

Why couldn’t it follow someone else?!

As Nie Yun Zhen contemplated, his heart pounded with fear, and he couldn’t help but hasten his steps. But what unnerved him was the sound of light footsteps that relentlessly followed him, no matter how quickly or widely he strode, always a whisper behind… like a shadow.

Chu Xiu was quick to pick up on Nie Yun Zhen’s sudden pace and couldn’t help but wonder, ‘How strange… Could something be wrong?’

Soon after, Nie Yun Zhen arrived, and Chu Xiu, sensing his living presence, sighed in relief. He relaxed slightly and took a step toward the next corner.

Nie Yun Zhen stood in the corner, facing the wall. He assumed the “thing” had trailed Chu Xiu and felt somewhat relieved. But suddenly, he felt a light breath on the back of his neck, and he froze, his body stiff as a board. The chill that ran down his spine was the same feeling he had earlier experienced.

Since everyone had to remain silent, Chu Xiu failed to notice the despair on Nie Yun Zhen’s face. Even if he had, he could have done nothing to help.

The sound of footsteps echoed again.

As they walked for an indefinite time, turning corners repeatedly, Chu Xiu arrived at the next corner, only to realize that it had been quite a while since he had heard any coughing.

Therefore, now each of the four corners was occupied by one person.

Chu Xiu’s heart was racing with fear.

Where could that extra thing be lurking now? Which corner was it hiding in?

Chu Xiu was left in the dark, so he had no choice but to comply with the rules and continue descending.

As he turned the corner, there was a “person” standing.

If viewed from above, they appeared to be walking in endless circles, their heads spinning. Chu Xiu, like earlier, had noted the count but was led astray by an inexplicable force and forgot the number of rounds and time…

“At last, you’ve come out.”

Upon seeing a figure emerge from the gate, Shi Yan breathed a sigh of relief and welcomed him with a hushed greeting.

The prolonged absence of coughing suggested that they had aroused some unclean entity. They must leave immediately.

Chu Xiu acquiesced and boarded the vehicle.

Nie Yun Zhen instructed, “Buckle up; let’s hurry back.”

Unbeknownst to them, the real Chu Xiu was still entangled in an endless cycle of rounds.

He was still playing the four-corner game with three unknown things.

“Now, where shall we go? Why don’t we return to the hotel?” Nie Yun Zhen suggested, “We haven’t checked out yet.”

He was plagued by anxiety as he could not locate the statue, unsure if it had been inadvertently left at the hotel.

“Agreed.” Without waiting for Shi Yan and Ye Sheng Ke to object, Chu Xiu nodded from the passenger seat, assenting to the proposal.

Nie Yun Zhen gave Chu Xiu a grateful glance as the vehicle started and swiftly drove towards the hotel.

On the city’s opposite end, Lu Yan arrived at a hotel and proceeded to check in.

He had a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something, and the receptionist’s saccharine smile made him uneasy.

“…I woke up to find my precious belongings missing! If I don’t receive a satisfactory explanation, I will have to contact the authorities!” As he checked in, a man stormed out of the elevator and bellowed indignantly.

Behind him, a bewildered receptionist stood at a loss.

The elevator doors gradually shut, showing a bright “1” before the display panel suddenly went berserk, and the numbers started plummeting.