Chapter 18: The Origin of the Matter

Chu Ning had finally achieved the life he had always dreamed of. These days, all he pondered was whether to add one egg or two when making instant noodles.

He restrained himself with the last shreds of reason, careful not to squander money recklessly—otherwise, he would need to consider which sort of dirt might taste the least offensive.

Inside the lavishly decorated villa, cash was curiously scarce, though the place brimmed with membership cards of every kind. With his shallow understanding, Chu Ning tried to make sense of it: perhaps the life of the wealthy was, at its core, this simple and unadorned.

Fortunately, the villa’s basement was stocked with a vast supply of food, enough to cover his basic needs. Otherwise, he would have become the first time traveler to starve to death, forever nailed to the pillar of shame by those who came after.

As for the bank card passwords and such, Chu Ning could only shrug, having absolutely no recollection of them.

What he truly wanted to complain about was the basement’s design: its secrecy rivaled that of a locked chamber, and at first, the problem of food nearly drove him mad.

What a stable way to make a living—collecting rent! What a wonderful life! Chu Ning praised it wholeheartedly. The memories of his initial, desperate days after crossing over were still vivid before his eyes. If not for the green hunger in his eyes, he would never have found himself killing a chicken—a thing he had never done or even considered before.

When the fridge had finally been emptied, the only other living creature in the villa was a rooster. It meant only one of them could survive.

He had hesitated over the act—kill or spare it? The two conflicting impulses warred within him, but in the end, reality triumphed.

The rumbling of his stomach reminded him: his body needed energy, or death would come, right on schedule.

His stomach burned, his body barely held together by sheer will; he could almost hear the gurgle of cold water sloshing inside him. His vision blurred and overlapped with exhaustion.

Chu Ning could no longer care what time it was—even if it was deep in the night, he was going to slaughter that rooster today! He did feel a little regret: the rooster had been the long-time companion of the villa’s former owner and was now doomed to die here.

As for the odd existence of a rooster in a place like this, Chu Ning guessed it must have been the owner’s peculiar hobby—perhaps the bird was meant to serve as a living alarm clock, or maybe it was some kind of charm against evil.

Whatever the reason, he had no understanding of the ways of the rich.

During his life-or-death battle with the rooster, Chu Ning inevitably stumbled and fumbled about, accidentally triggering a mechanism in the basement, which revealed its trove of food supplies.

Guided by a sense of mercy, he swiftly dispatched the struggling rooster; he couldn’t possibly attempt a neck surgery on a chicken. Had things been different, perhaps the bird would have lived.

Afterward, Chu Ning met Tanya by chance in the lonely, silent villa on the outskirts of town. By a twist of fate, they were drawn into a terrifying game of deduction.

Now, Chu Ning found himself recalling every detail of the rooster’s life—not because there was any deep bond between them, but because he was considering...

How best to cook an all-natural, organic rooster: poached chicken, crispy fried chicken, oil-braised chicken, casserole chicken, spicy crispy chicken, shredded chicken with chili sauce...

Shaking off his culinary daydreams, Chu Ning hummed a tune only he could understand, cheerfully tidying up the yet-unfinished mess. If he waited until the blood dried, the villa’s couch would become as infamous as an urban legend, said to be watered with fresh blood.

Since they had come to understand each other and cleared up the misunderstandings between them, the villa had returned to its former tranquility. The mirror spirit never appeared again, as if it had never existed at all.

Tanya kept to her room, rarely appearing even in the living room. Chu Ning couldn’t help but notice her oddness—so similar to his own. Both of them, he thought, belonged to a generation shaped by the culture of staying at home.

Besides mealtimes, their encounters were few and far between. If nothing disturbed their reclusive habits, they might have stayed hidden in their rooms forever.

Chu Ning found they had much in common: both were recluses, both preferred the night, and both had a surprising capacity for endurance.

Anyone else living in this eerily decorated house would have found the psychological pressure overwhelming, especially with no one to confide in and no easy way to escape.

To his astonishment, the grand villa did not have a single car—not even a bicycle. Chu Ning was dumbfounded by this discovery.

He didn’t buy the idea of “energy conservation,” not for a moment. He had once wanted to avoid killing, but reality simply didn’t allow it!

A walk from here to the city would take three hours at a steady pace, with no stops along the way.

To avoid the tragedy of starving to death on the street, the tragedy within the villa had been inevitable.

Three days flew by, and the major event Tanya had spoken of still hadn’t come to pass. Instead, today’s weather was rare—a clear, sunny day. Even the perennial fog outside had thinned considerably.

Creak.

Chu Ning pushed open the tightly sealed door, and gentle sunlight fell across his face, making him look all the healthier. He yawned, dazed, and wandered over to the lounge chair in the yard.

He brushed off the thin layer of dust, then stretched out luxuriously, basking in the sun and savoring the rare fine weather.

Tanya, frowning slightly against the glare, hesitated before stepping out of the villa. Her instincts told her the safest place to be was by Chu Ning’s side.

Nervously, she made her way over and hid beneath the locust tree at the edge of the yard, avoiding the harsh sunlight.

The legends in movies of ghosts fearing the sun were utter nonsense. Bathed in sunlight, Tanya at most felt a little uncomfortable, the way humans do when struggling to stay awake at night.

In a sense, they really were pulling all-nighters, burning through their energy and spirit. If one ignored their natural rhythms long enough, it was indeed possible to function just as well in daylight.

Today marked the seventh day since Tanya’s death. She had no idea what might happen—perhaps nothing at all, and all her fears were just wild imaginings. But perhaps the terror would arrive as promised, and her life would be snuffed out once and for all.

In the silent yard, the steady rhythm of breathing and the erratic beat of anxious hearts could be clearly heard. Chu Ning lounged contentedly in his chair, scoffing at the horror Tanya had described.

It was nothing more than her own paranoia. How could anything be decided by a person’s sixth sense? The idea was simply preposterous.