Jiang Qianyu cleared the dishes and washed them in the sink—just a small way to lighten her nine-year-old daughter’s load. Disabled as she was, she couldn’t expect a child to carry the weight alone.

Behind her, Bai Dongqing stared blankly at Jiang Qianyu’s back. She’d tried to help multiple times, only to be gently turned down each time.

*Maybe it’s just my imagination…* Bai Dongqing felt her mom was different today—as if she’d become someone else entirely. Even her tone had softened noticeably.

“Mom.” Bai Dongqing stepped closer as Jiang Qianyu stacked the clean dishes. “The water heater’s ready. Want to shower?”

“Not tonight. Tomorrow. It’s late—go wash up and get ready for bed.”

As she spoke, Jiang Qianyu glanced out the window again, a faint unease stirring deep inside.

“Okay, got it, Mom.” Bai Dongqing nodded, words forming on her lips before she swallowed them back.

Jiang Qianyu didn’t notice. She wheeled herself around the video store. Shelves lined with movie discs, game discs, old players, and consoles—coated in thick dust. Business was clearly dead. *Who buys physical discs anymore?* Stream on your phone, maybe pay for a subscription. And this location? Calling it “outskirts” was generous. The only perk here was the quiet.

She pulled a disc at random. Crimson cover, eerie vibe—definitely horror.

*Fire and the Vanished Husband.*

“Fire?”

Jiang Qianyu’s eyes narrowed. *The house across the street…*

Was it her imagination? That three-story building hidden in blood-red hues felt unsettlingly familiar.

Holding the disc, she rolled to the bay window, drew the curtain, and raised the disc toward the opposite house.

If she stood outside now, viewing it from this angle—it would match the cover exactly.

8:10 PM. The street had deepened into darkness. On the disc, a shadow stood at the second-floor window, hands gripping the security bars—pleading? Or staring down at passersby?

Across the way, only blackness. Then—a faint, acrid stench of burning. Gone in a breath. Almost an illusion.

She slid the disc back, suppressing the urge to play it.

This wasn’t coincidence. If it documented the fire across the street… how did it end up here?

Phone chats and Bai Dongqing’s reactions made it clear: the body’s original owner had been a pushover—even at the bottom of the Guaitan world. She wouldn’t have recorded this herself.

Whatever it was, Jiang Qianyu wouldn’t risk her daughter’s safety.

“Mom, I’m done.” Bai Dongqing came downstairs, eyes widening at the locked door—and the chair wedged under the knob.

“Sleep upstairs tonight. With me.”

Bai Dongqing’s room was the cramped back storage. *Clearly meant to guard the store.*

“But… Auntie Yunzhi isn’t back…” Bai Dongqing stammered. She only slept upstairs when Lu Yunzhi was home.

“I’ll bring your quilt up. From now on, you stay upstairs.”

Jiang Qianyu waited until Bai Dongqing left, then went to the kitchen and took a sharp fruit knife.

Gripping the blade eased the unease—just slightly. But a thick foreboding clung to her chest.

*Something will happen tonight.*

She trusted her instincts. If the street’s danger was just paranoia… then what about the disc?

Upstairs, Bai Dongqing flinched at the knife. Before she could speak, Jiang Qianyu held up an apple. “Don’t worry. Just peeling this.”

*She knew the girl would be scared.*

Later, after washing up and struggling into bed, she saw the fear still in Bai Dongqing’s eyes.

No explanation. Some wounds only time could heal. She wouldn’t rush it.

11:50 PM. Deep night.

A sound jolted Jiang Qianyu awake.

Voices outside.

She turned. Through a slit in the thick curtain—flickering flames. Stark against the dark. Coming from across the street.

*But that house has been empty for years. Burned clean long ago.*

And the cries she’d half-heard in sleep—they were coming from *there*.

All drowsiness vanished. She sat up.

“Fire… such a huge fire…”

“Help me… please…”

“It hurts… so much…”

Fragmented pleas. A man’s hoarse voice, thick with agony and despair.

*Is that… thing… gripping the bars right now? Staring straight at me?*

“I can’t see… my eyes…”

His voice weakened. Fading.

Jiang Qianyu glanced at her sleeping daughter. Didn’t move.

Human or ghost—she couldn’t help.

Her heart hammered. Palms slick with sweat.

She knew this world wasn’t ordinary. This was her first real encounter.

Silence fell. Flames dimmed.

After ten cautious minutes, she wheeled to the window and parted the curtain—just a sliver.

In the opposite room, a figure leaned forward, hands clamped tight on the security bars. A rotting, foul-smelling face pressed between the iron slats. Milky-white eyes locked onto hers.

“Why… didn’t you save me…”