"Don't worry—the equipment's all set and tested. I'll demo it for you when I get home," Lu Yunzhi said, swiftly composing herself—or at least appearing to. Her tone with Jiang Qianyu was noticeably lighter than back at the Nightwatchers branch.
On the other end, Jiang Qianyu detected nothing amiss. "Mm, okay. I'll wait for you at home."
"Hehehe, be a good girl and wait for me~"
After hanging up, Lu Yunzhi reached up and patted her cheeks.
No way would idle gossip ruin her mood!
Better to focus on coordinating with her "little wifey strategist" for the next mission.
Meanwhile, Jiang Qianyu remained seated in the first-floor audio-visual shop.
She scrolled through two saved files on her computer: [Midnight Dollhouse] and [Daylight Amusement Park]. Older records were likely deleted—standard practice for completed missions.
"Mom, would you like some warm milk?"
At the staircase, Bai Dongqing—now in pajamas—approached holding a steaming cup.
"Mm, thank you, my good girl," Jiang Qianyu said, taking the milk and gently ruffling the girl's hair. "Pour yourself one too. Read upstairs awhile, and be in bed by nine-thirty."
"Yes, Mom." Bai Dongqing nodded obediently. Turning away, she almost asked about her mother's health again—but swallowed the words.
Mom had never said "thank you" before. Never called her "my good girl," either.
Jiang Qianyu missed the nuance. Her mind was fixed on Tomorrow Apartments.
The vampire doll had climbed to the fourth floor and found its room—a moldy, long-vacant space. Clean, fully equipped, indistinguishable from any rental. Except the water smelled faintly foul.
Eighty percent certain: the white-clad woman's corpse soaked in the rooftop water tank.
Drinking it weighed heavily on her. Even in this doll body—awareness was still *hers*. How was this different from swallowing corpse-tainted water herself?
No choice. The water carried the woman's decaying spiritual energy. Only by drinking it would the spirit come knocking at midnight.
She fetched an unopened paper cup, filled it from the tap, hesitated a moment, then gulped it down eyes shut.
Cold liquid slid down the doll's esophagus. Instantly, a revolting stench surged inward—but vanished quickly.
Not from the water. A force *using* the water as medium. Likely the white-clad woman's spiritual energy.
Standing in the living room, the space felt subtly altered. A whisper lingered—faint, rapid, choked with sobs. Fragments: "daughter"... "medicine"...
Frowning, Jiang Qianyu followed the sound to the locked inner room. Her rental was two-bedroom; this door wouldn't budge, not even with the landlord's key.
Closer now, the whisper sharpened—then vanished the moment her fingers brushed the doorknob.
Eyes narrowing, she reared back her short leg and kicked. *Thud!* The wooden door shuddered, frame warping. A second kick—*crash!*—splintered it open.
Proof this doll body packed strength. Far sturdier than her frail original self.
Inside: empty except for a dust-caked black recliner center-stage, hemp rope snapped beside it, and medicine bottles piled along the wall.
"So many meds..."
She picked up the broken rope. Realization struck.
Had the previous tenant been bound here... force-fed spoon by spoon?
"Was it the white-clad woman?"
What trauma twisted her spirit *before* death? Could consciousness persist after dying? What final horror reshaped her spiritual energy so utterly?
*Thump! Thump! Thump!*
Violent pounding shattered her thoughts.
She spun toward the trembling front door.
"Already here?"
Peeking through the peephole from a stool—no ghost. A disheveled middle-aged man, bloodshot eyes, dragging hemp rope.
His hoarse voice seeped through the wood: "You're back... You've finally returned..."
Nothing more terrifying than a mentally unstable man blocking your door at night—rope in one hand, the other sliding a key into the lock.
Jiang Qianyu's blood ran cold. *Click.* The door burst inward, slamming her to the floor.
Her small frame lay on cold tiles. Above loomed the towering man, grim smile spreading, rope dragging closer... step by step...
