The fact that someone was hidden in the room that could never be opened sent a chill down Yu Sheng’s spine, and immediately, a torrent of questions surged into his mind.
Who was it? When did the owner of that voice hide inside? Had they snuck in while he was sleeping, or had they been there since he arrived here two months ago?
If it were the second scenario, then he could be sure that during the long days he spent in this big house without going out, the door to this room on the second floor had never been opened.
This meant that the person had been hiding inside all along.
Was there another passageway in the room, or was it possible that…
That voice that chuckled softly was really a “person”?
Confused thoughts stirred wildly in his mind, yet Yu Sheng’s expression gradually calmed down.
Perhaps it was the strange encounter with that "frog" that had changed something in him, or maybe it was the influence of “being brought back from the dead."
He felt that his current state of mind… was somewhat strange.
The voice had neither a hint of kindness nor malice, but it was undoubtedly eerie.
However, after the initial chill ran through him, all fear and hesitation vanished from his heart, leaving only intense curiosity.
He wanted to know what exactly was in that room.
He wanted to uncover the secrets of the big house he had chosen as his refuge.
This was his safe house, the only “home” he had in this gigantic city—there could be no unsafe things inside his safe house.
He slowly approached, pressing his ear against the door.
Inside, he thought he could still hear that low, mocking laughter, though it might just be an illusion, perhaps it was only the hollow sound of wind swirling in his ears.
He curled his fingers and knocked on the door.
“Open up, I can hear you.”
Of course, the door did not open, but that hollow laughter did indeed fade away.
This was as he expected.
Yu Sheng said nothing and turned to leave—he went to the next room piled high with clutter and took an axe.
Returning to the locked door, he raised the axe high in silence, putting all his strength into the blow.
The sharp axe struck the thin wooden door with a sound like metal clashing, sparks flying from the blade.
It seemed that a mere kick could easily break the door, yet there was not a single mark left on it.
The soft laughter came back, distant yet clearer.
But Yu Sheng didn’t mind at all; he calmly raised the axe again, as if he were engaged in a meticulous task that required patience, continuing to chop away.
He knew that this door could not be opened, not by electric drills or saws.
Yet, despite knowing this, he had nearly tried every method to open the door over the past two months.
Today, that strange voice coming from within fueled his determination to break through.
With each futile blow, his motivation only grew stronger, and his strikes became more powerful, more effortless, even… more aligned with his own desires.
In his gradually emptying mind, odd associations began to surface—he felt like Wu Gang chopping down trees on the moon, imagining if he could only fell that cursed osmanthus tree, then Chang’e, the Jade Rabbit, the bald-headed Qiang, and Sisyphus would form a circle around him and applaud…
He didn’t even understand why Sisyphus appeared in his thoughts.
Yet the laughter from behind the door became increasingly grating, growing more evident, more inviting, as if the source of that voice was inching closer, pressing against the back of the wooden door.
It was as if she knew all too well that the door was indestructible and was mocking Yu Sheng as he swung the axe outside.
Just then, another voice broke through the mocking laughter, sounding tense and angry, “Could you stop laughing? If he breaks through the door, the first to be chopped will be me!”
Instantly, the laughter inside ceased.
Yu Sheng, who had been raising the axe with all his might, froze momentarily, only to feel a crack in his lower back.
With that crack, the axe in his hand fell, striking an entirely unexpected spot.
Instead of the piercing clash from earlier, a noticeably lighter sound came from the door.
The axe dropped to the ground, and he immediately raised his hand… to hold his aching waist.
His back hurt.
It was a sharp pain, quite serious.
He carefully approached the door, taking a moment to focus on the spot where his last blow had landed.
There, about two or three centimeters from the doorframe, a “spark” seemed to linger, just at the side of the hinge, as if it were a spark flying from the axe that had been frozen in the air at the moment of impact.
With the hint of light guiding him, Yu Sheng vaguely saw something on the nearby door panel.
He reached out to touch it.
From behind the door came a suppressed shriek, “Ah—”
Yu Sheng's eyes shot open.
The bright light of the living room was somewhat blinding.
Lying on the sofa, he felt achy all over.
Nearby, the clock ticked rhythmically, showing that he had only slept for less than forty minutes.
He lay on the sofa in a daze for a while, and gradually, the memories began to clear up in his head.
He had fallen asleep… was that just a dream? Lost in thought, he suddenly sensed something was off.
The process of that “dream” felt too real, the details too clear.
He could even distinctly remember the sensation of holding the axe, the spark on the door, and he clearly…
He bolted up from the sofa and raised his hand… to hold his waist.
His back hurt, quite seriously.
“Damn it…” Yu Sheng couldn’t help but utter a few words of frustration.
The sudden pain from his back combined with the soreness from sleeping on the sofa was a mixed effect that made him feel it would be easier to take the heart-piercing from that frog—at least that only hurt for two seconds.
Then, while pressing his waist, he struggled to stand up, increasingly sure that it was definitely not an ordinary “dream.”
The pain from his back wouldn’t transfer into reality; something strange had truly appeared.
That thing had invaded his “safe house.”
He adjusted his posture and mindset, trying not to let the pain hinder his movements, thought for a moment, and then gritted his teeth as he proceeded upstairs.
Holding a baton in one hand, he entered the cluttered room, finding the axe he had used in the dream, gripping it tightly in his right hand—it felt exactly the same as it had in the dream, even retaining the warmth of his palm.
He arrived before the locked door, which still appeared as new as ever, showing no signs of the “spark” from his dream’s strike.
Inside was eerily quiet.
It was as if everything was as normal, as if nothing had happened.
But Yu Sheng clearly remembered the location of that spark.
He clipped the baton onto his waist, switched the axe to his left hand, and reached out with his right hand to explore the door, searching for the place where he had struck the spark in the dream… he remembered it being near the hinge, where he had seen an indistinct…
In the next second, his hand found a handle, a handle invisible to the naked eye.
But he clearly remembered that there was no handle here.
He had checked every inch of this locked door, exploring every surface from the moment he discovered it on the first day.
He was sure he had never touched anything like a “nonexistent handle”!
Why? Was it because he had observed it in the dream? Was it because he had “unmasked” some kind of disguise with the axe? That by confirming its existence, it really existed?
Yu Sheng racked his brain, running through all the movies, TV shows, games, and novels he had read, instantly gathering a multitude of possible explanations.
Yet his hands did not hesitate as he grasped that invisible handle and gently turned it.
The seemingly indestructible locked door swung open effortlessly from the hinge side.
Inside was an empty room.
Peering through the gradually opening crack, he saw only the floor and walls, with the light entering from the doorway slowly illuminating the dark space.
However, even after carefully swinging the door fully open, Yu Sheng did not see the owner of the mocking voice within.
Holding the axe firmly, he cautiously observed the room but found that there was truly nothing inside, not even a bed or a chair.
Only the cold moonlight seeped through the gaps in the old curtains, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
But suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something.
There was indeed “something” in the room—a painting on the wall facing the door.
An exquisite frame adorned with intricate and classical vine designs encased a picture in which a seat covered with soft red velvet served as the background.
But there was nothing else, no curse or ghost with a mocking grin sitting within the painting, watching the intruder.
Yu Sheng frowned, staring at that painting frame, which was about half a meter tall, carefully tracing its outline until he found the light switch next to the doorframe, turning on the room’s lights.
As the light illuminated the painting, every detail became clearer.
He cautiously approached the painting, closely observing it for a long time.
Then he noticed an incredibly subtle detail in the corner of the frame… a hint of a skirt.
“…”
He considered for a moment and spoke with a slightly peculiar expression, “Is anyone there?”
“Not here!”
A guilty voice echoed from within the painting.
(End of Chapter)