Behind the massive gate lay a very narrow forest path.
On either side, yellowed weeds grew as high as a person’s waist. The sky was a gloomy, heavy grey; thick dark clouds hung low as if a torrential rainstorm were imminent. A sinister wind blew from deep within the woods, its sound like a child’s sob.
It was only at this moment that Shen Yi realized things were fundamentally wrong. No matter how impressive a haunted house was, it couldn’t build a gate that massive, and it certainly couldn’t create such a vast, open-air landscape on the top floor of a shopping mall.
That sky looked in every way possible disturbingly real.
Had he actually seen a ghost?
The kind of bizarre, paranormal experience one only sees in forum threads had actually happened to him? Shen Yi felt his scalp prickle.
“Shen Yi…” Gong Cang scrambled up, trembling. “Let’s not go in. Something… something isn’t right, is it?”
Shen Yi turned back, about to speak, when a sudden, powerful gust of wind blew from the entrance toward the interior of the gate, sucking them both in.
Shen Yi had no time to react; he only had time to let out a short yell. His joints felt twisted in the wind, and he thought he heard his bones let out a distinct snap. He slammed onto the path, rolling several times.
He landed in a crumpled heap, his rear practically touching his head. He stayed folded like that for a moment until his soul seemed to find its way back into his body. Taking a deep breath, he used all his strength to roll forward and sit up. Fortunately, he had studied dance for a while as a child, so his flexibility was decent.
Rubbing his aching arms and lower back, Shen Yi stood up shakily. He looked back to see Gong Cang still folded like a piece of paper. This guy clearly wasn’t as resilient; he was lying on the ground with stars in his eyes, his spirit not yet returned.
“Hey, get up.”
Shen Yi walked over, showing no mercy as he grabbed both of Gong Cang’s arms and yanked him upright with a sudden jerk, shaking his shoulders until his eyes cleared.
Gong Cang jolted awake and immediately looked back. His face turned as white as a sheet of paper. Shen Yi followed his gaze.
The massive gate was gone.
Behind them was nothing but empty space, with a thick black mist swirling in the distance. Gong Cang’s legs went weak, and he collapsed back onto the ground.
Shen Yi stood up and looked around. The surrounding area was a vast expanse of weeds, and a bit further ahead lay a dense forest.
“Shen Yi…” Gong Cang’s voice shook. “We… we aren’t in the haunted house anymore, are we?”
In this situation, it was obviously no longer a haunted house.
“What haunted house treats guests like this? Tossing people around so hard aren’t they afraid of being sued?” Shen Yi said. “Besides, that gate… I can’t think of any technology that could create that kind of moving pattern.”
Shen Yi pulled out his phone, checked the time, and fell silent.
Gong Cang hugged himself, looking at the surroundings in terror. “Then what’s happening? We were definitely in the haunted house, so how did we suddenly… why aren’t you saying anything?”
Shen Yi remained silent for another moment, tapping his phone screen.
“Gong,” he said quietly. “We’ve definitely hit something supernatural.”
“Huh?”
Shen Yi showed him the phone screen. It was the home screen. The time was 5:27 AM. And the date was November 2, 1986.
The little color left in Gong Cang’s face vanished. He let out a dry, hollow laugh. “Your phone must be broken… Shen Yi, how many years have you had that thing? You need an upgrade…”
“Are you an idiot? I dropped my old phone two days ago and you were the one who went with me to buy this one. This is a Glory 300, the latest model.”
“…”
“If you don’t believe me, check yours,” Shen Yi said, putting his phone away after trying to adjust the settings. “I just tried to fix it. The time won’t change back.”
Gong Cang frantically pulled out his own phone. The screen lit up, showing the exact same date and time. He unlocked it, fingers fumbling through the settings menu, but no matter how many times he tried to change it, the setting would say “Success” only for the home screen to remain stuck.
November 2, 1986. 5:30 AM.
Gong Cang spiraled. “How is this possible!?”
“We’ve run into a ghost.” Shen Yi remained remarkably calm. He stuffed his phone into his pocket and looked toward the path leading into the forest. “Nothing we can do. Let’s go. We should follow this road and see where it leads. Sitting here won’t solve anything. In a situation this mystical, do you really expect the police to come rescue us?”
Gong Cang’s eyes lit up. “Wait! That’s it! We just need to wait for the police!”
Shen Yi: “…”
Shen Yi looked at him with pure disdain.
Gong Cang stood up, punching his palm with excitement. “We entered that haunted house with four other students! When we go missing, they’ll notice! They’ll call the police, and the police will follow the clues here. We just need to stay right here and wait for rescue! Right?”
When people get scared, they can become remarkably stupid. Shen Yi reached his limit and kicked Gong Cang in the rear. “Right your grandmother!”
Gong Cang cried out as he hit the ground. He clutched his backside and yelled, “What was that for!”
“What was it for? What do you think it was for!?” Shen Yi barked. “Did a donkey kick your brain? Do you think the police are from Mob Psycho 100? How are they going to find a place this supernatural? Does the police station have a direct line to the underworld? Do they have Soul Reapers on the payroll?”
Shen Yi was done talking; he felt his IQ dropping just being near him. He put his hands in his pockets and started walking down the path, muttering curses under his breath.
Confused, Gong Cang scrambled up and chased after him. “Wait, Shen Yi!”
Gong Cang caught up quickly. Shen Yi ignored him, walking straight into the woods. The wind rattled the trees on either side, and the tall weeds hissed. It felt as if something was lurking in the depths of the forest, ready to pounce at any second.
Terrified, Gong Cang grabbed the hem of Shen Yi’s shirt, sticking close to his back. “I’m saying… maybe we really should go back and wait for the police…”
“If there really is a ghost and you stay in one spot, by the time the police ‘arrive,’ you’ll be a side dish on some ghost-mother’s dinner table. There’s a road right here; why wouldn’t we see where it goes?”
Gong Cang swallowed hard, silenced by the imagery. He shrunk his neck like a frightened quail and followed Shen Yi deeper into the woods. The wind continued to howl and echo like a crying child.
After a while, they finally exited the forest.
The view opened up significantly, and the path grew wider. Shen Yi looked up and saw a village at the end of the road. At the village entrance stood a stone archway. He couldn’t quite read what was written on it, but he could see a crowd of people gathered there at least a dozen.
“So many people,” Gong Cang noted, his fear returning. “They… they aren’t all ghosts, are they? Are we going over there?”
“Let’s go,” Shen Yi said. “At least get close enough to see.”
As they approached, Shen Yi became certain they were living humans—more than half of the dozen or so people were looking down at their phones. He had never seen a ghost that spent its time scrolling on a smartphone.
Relieved, he stepped forward.
Seeing him approach, a man in a formal suit who hadn’t been on his phone turned around. He glanced behind Shen Yi, saw Gong Cang, and then turned to the others. “The group is complete.”
Shen Yi blinked. “What?”
“Including you two, that makes eighteen,” the suited man said. “Let’s go. We can enter now.”
The crowd turned as one and began walking toward the village.
“Wait, hey!” Gong Cang panicked. He ran up and grabbed the suited man’s arm. “What do you mean ‘complete’? What’s going on!? Did you all get brought here by a ghost too? Where are we going?!”
The suited man paused. Several of the others stopped as well, looks of surprise crossing their faces as they all turned to look at Shen Yi and Gong Cang.
One person asked in disbelief, “You two are newcomers?”
“Huh?” Shen Yi was lost. “What newcomers?”
“Holy crap, a newcomer this calm?” a beautiful woman with wavy hair remarked, looking impressed. “Impressive. Whatever, just keep up. We don’t have the energy to explain it to you yet.”
“Something will tell you what’s going on soon enough,” added a thin, rodent-faced man. “Not worth wasting our breath. If you die on the first night, explaining it would have been a waste of time anyway.”
“True. Explaining is a pain.” The suited man shook off Gong Cang’s hand, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the spot where he’d been touched. “Just keep up.”
He turned and walked away. The others followed suit, ignoring them.
With no one willing to answer, Shen Yi had no choice but to follow along with Gong Cang. The village was filled with the sound of the wind, making the back of his neck feel cold. Just before entering the village, Shen Yi felt a strange pull and looked up at the stone archway.
He froze in his tracks.
On the stone archway, three blood-red words were written:
“YANG VILLAGE”