This time, Shu Yuxin had truly reached her limit.

She’d always been timid. In daily life, she actively avoided anything that might scare her—horror movies, horror novels, you name it. It kept her safe for a while, but her fear tolerance never improved—if such a thing could even be trained.

So dragging someone like her into a haunted house this intense was pure torture. She simply couldn’t go on. It wasn’t about pride; when fear piles up past your breaking point, real trouble follows.

In the corridor, the young couple had stopped too. After calling security, they crouched to rest. The girl stayed tucked tightly in the boy’s arms, still shaken. The boy, however, had already bounced back and was scrolling videos on his phone.

Jiang Zixuan paused, then made a decision. He gently set Yuxin down, patted her shoulder, and kept his tone light: “Alright, let’s wait here too.”

Yuxin nodded and gripped his wrist.

Every second here felt like agony.

Minutes later, a security guard arrived, flashlight in hand. He waved them over. “Come on, I’ll take you out.”

No hesitation—they stood and followed.

Zixuan hadn’t read the rules beforehand. Falling into step behind the guard with Yuxin, he glanced back at her silent face and asked, “Excuse me—if you’re leading us out, will we still run into scares ahead?”

The guard, a man in his forties with a slight paunch, guided them smoothly along the shortest path. He chuckled warmly. “Nah. If I’m escorting you, no active scares ahead. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“Sir,” the other boy asked curiously, “do many visitors need escorts out?”

“Plenty! Yesterday alone, I led out over a dozen kids. On busy days, all dozen of us guards aren’t enough.”

“Oh, good,” the boy laughed. “Knowing others are just as scared makes me feel better.”

The guard chuckled. “This place *is* scary—even we get spooked. A few months back, a new young guard quit after half a month. Didn’t even take his pay.”

“Haha, so how do *you* stick with it, Sir?”

“Gotta eat, right?” The guard sighed deeply. “Sigh… Making a living these days ain’t easy.”

Just then, he led them into another scare room. The sight froze all four trailing behind—the boy forgot his next words entirely.

At the corridor’s end sat a storage room piled with rusted junk. A single dim bulb hung from the ceiling, casting the same eerie gloom.

Yet there, perched on a broken table, a girl scrolled her phone.

Pink nurse uniform stained with fake blood. Dirty bandages coiled her arms. Her body looked chilling—but her face was bare, clean, like a quiet college girl in a library. The contrast left everyone stunned.

The guard sighed, used to it. “Can’t you play less? Battery dies again, I’ll have to charge it.”

She glanced up, then back at her screen. “What else? Stuck here all day—so boring.”

“What about visitors? Where’s your mask?”

“I’ll put it on when they come. Brother Liu’ll warn me. Few take this route anyway.” She waved dismissively.

The guard sighed again, leading the group out. “Try taking it seriously. Mess up, and they dock your pay.”

“Knoooow~!” she drawled.

Outside, sensing the awkward silence, he added, “Once escorted out, you’re ‘done.’ Performers won’t scare you. Off-duty, they relax like this…”

“Makes sense,” the boy murmured, suddenly somber.

Realizing they’d been terrified by people like *that*, he felt his courage shrink.

Yuxin’s color had improved slightly, but she kept her eyes locked on the floor, letting Zixuan lead her—silent, distant.

Zixuan leaned close, voice soft. “See? Those who scared you… just people. Nothing to fear, right?”

Yuxin nodded absently.

The guard soon brought them to the “exit”—a bright room beside the hospital lobby, fluorescent lights replacing the flickering gloom. Rows of chairs offered rest.

Yuxin and Zixuan were last out. Yan Zhikai’s group had waited long. Everyone stood as they appeared. Peng Xiaoxiao rushed forward. “You’re finally out! How was it?”

“Not bad,” Zixuan smiled, waving.

They’d already let go of hands—acting like nothing happened. Yuxin followed behind, gaze down, face unreadable, radiating cool detachment.

This time, Peng Xiaoxiao wasn’t deterred. She whispered near Yuxin’s ear, grinning: “Hehe… how’d your little ‘alone time’ go?”

“Mm…” Yuxin nodded slowly. Silence.

Peng waved a hand before her eyes. “Hey? Yuxin?”

“Mm…” Same vague reply.

“She’s still in shock. Give her a moment,” Zixuan said, glancing back with quiet worry. He’d never seen her like this.

“Oh…” Peng finally noticed. She stepped back obediently.

Yan Zhikai returned their tokens and ambled over. “Way scarier than last time. Holographic projections—I didn’t spot it at first.”

“If you spotted it instantly, it wouldn’t scare anyone,” Zixuan said, glancing at Peng. “Were *you* scared?”

“Never! Too mild for me!” Peng shook her head firmly.

“She *is* bold,” the token-collecting guard finally spoke up. “Not only unshaken—she made two of our girl staff cry. Old Cheng’s still comforting them.”

Yan took a swig from his Yibao bottle. “Yeah. Thanks to her, we got escorted out halfway.”

“What choice did we have?” the guard sighed. “You play freely; we pay the price. One incident, and wages get docked. Sigh…”

Peng stuck out her tongue sheepishly. “Hehe… I just saw they didn’t notice me… didn’t mean to make them cry…”

“Those girls are holiday workers. Only two days on the job…”

“Holiday job?!” Peng’s eyes lit up. “Still hiring?!”

The guard: “….”

“Enough,” Yan waved, heading for the exit first.

Outside, Zixuan glanced back at Yuxin.

She still stared blankly at the ground, sealed off from the world. Yet she followed precisely—one step behind. He moved, she moved. He stopped, she stopped.

Like a wind-up doll on auto-follow.

Sunlight felt like rebirth. Noon crowds filled the park. Even this quiet path buzzed with tourists heading toward the haunted house. *How many will end up like Yuxin?* Zixuan wondered.

“What next?” Zhang Houlin, silent till now, asked at the crossroads.

Yan exhaled, glancing back. “Given *this* situation… I don’t think we can continue.”

Zixuan followed his gaze to the end of the line: Wei Zhanpeng.

Eyes wide but vacant, staring straight ahead—like a lost child who’d wandered off. Missing only drool at the corner of his mouth.

Zixuan’s lips twitched.

Focused on Yuxin earlier, he’d missed the second zombie in their group.