Chen Ge stared intently at his phone screen as the spinning wheel slowed, its pointer jerking to a halt with a soft click.

“Congratulations on completing the trial spin!” the notification popped up. “You’ve won a Rare Special Item: Cursed Love Letter (Win Rate: 0.3%).”

The description read: “Eyes bulging, face pale—she became a campus taboo the moment she fell from the skyscraper. Her red dancing shoes, bloodstained uniform, even her name—none dare speak of them. People pretended to forget… until someone received her love letter…”

Beneath it, another alert flashed: “First-time rare item obtained: Unlock Title—Ghost’s Favorite.”

“Ghost’s Favorite: Wearer has a chance to gain the ghost’s aid.”

Chen Ge’s chest tightened. Cursed love letter? 0.3% chance? Ghost’s Favorite? The mirror monster’s still unresolved, and now I’ve got a ghost on my hands?! He felt lightheaded, as if the air had been sucked from the room.

Calm down. Don’t spiral. He forced himself to breathe. This isn’t the worst case. Winning a ghost doesn’t mean it’ll appear immediately. I still have time to fix this… Maybe I should visit a temple and pray for guidance.

He tucked his phone into his pocket, but his fingers brushed against something.

Looking down, he froze. A yellowed letter rested in his pocket, its edges frayed.

His heart sank. No way.

He pulled it out, his hands trembling. The words were woven from hair—delicate, almost elegant, if not for the macabre medium: I like you.

“Calm down my ass!” he muttered. “What do you like about me? I can change—just tell me!”

The letter’s handwriting was neat, almost pretty, but the medium—hair—sent shivers down his spine.

Standing in the west wing, Chen Ge stared at the note, his face ashen. My first love letter… and it’s a cursed one woven from hair?

“Boss? What’re you muttering about?” Xu Wan appeared in the doorway, having just arranged the paper dolls in the main hall. Her makeup—zombie-chic, as always—couldn’t hide her concern.

“Nothing. Just… thinking. If someone knows their time’s running out, should they let go of their attachments? Do something meaningful for humanity, maybe?” He glanced up at her, half-joking.

Xu Wan tilted her head, her expression shifting from confusion to something softer. “Boss… are you asking me to…?”

“Whoa, no!” Chen Ge held up his hands, panicking. “I didn’t mean— We’ve worked together a long time, and we do have chemistry… but this is too sudden. I’m not ready—”

“No, boss, you’re overthinking,” Xu Wan interrupted, pointing past him. “I just noticed—your shadow. There are two of them. Is this part of the new attraction?”

“Two shadows?!”

Chen Ge whirled around. Behind him, two shadows—one large, one small—drifted closer, merging into one.

“What the—?!”

He grabbed Xu Wan’s arm and bolted for the exit, dragging her into the sunlight.

Only when the sun hit his face did he calm down. He didn’t explain, just plopped onto the steps outside the haunted house.

“Boss, you’ve been jumpy lately,” Xu Wan sat beside him, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Too much stress? Don’t push yourself. Everything’ll work out. What do you want for lunch? I’ll grab it.”

Chen Ge forced a smile. “Same as yours. And… go take off your makeup. Don’t scare the cafeteria cooks.”

“Okay.”

After she left, Chen Ge held up the cursed letter again. Two shadows merged… Does that mean the ghost’s clinging to me, hiding in my shadow?

He stared at his own shadow, squinting in the sunlight. I have the “Ghost’s Favorite” title. Maybe it’ll help… But ghosts are called “ghosts” for a reason. They’re bitter, vengeful. Cross one, and you’re done for.

Lunch done, Chen Ge sat at the haunted house entrance, handing out flyers. Tourists milled about, but few dared step inside.

Bored, he opened his Douyin app. Dozens of private messages flooded his notifications.

Filtering out trolls and ads, he replied to the rest—until he saw He Shan’s name.

The earnest med student had messaged: “Campus forum’s exploding. The guys are pissed the “campus belle” got scared off. They’re organizing a “haunted house raid”—over a dozen signed up already.”

“Youth is wasted on the young,” Chen Ge smirked, imagining a pack of hormone-fueled frat boys huddled together, trembling in his ghost house.

“Once the trial mission’s done, send ’em in first. Let’s see how they handle my “one-star horror” new scene.”

The trial mission. It was a one-shot deal—if they failed, the scene would lock forever.

He scrolled through his phone, memorizing the details. Know thy enemy.

“Ping’an Apartments, West Suburb…”

A quick search turned up nothing. Scrolling further, he found a secondhand property listing—a complaint. “Seller hid the truth. This building’s a haunted house. Bloodstains under the wallpaper, strange smells at night. No one took action. Posted nine months ago.”

“Spending a night in a real haunted house and hunting a killer? This’ll be tough,” Chen Ge muttered. He’d studied toy design—handy with crafts, but zero clue about detective work.

“Haunted houses? No problem. But if the killer’s next door, waiting to pounce at midnight…” He shuddered.