“Did she eat nothing at all? Or can she only come out at night?” After waiting outside for a few hours, Dr. Chen reentered the room and found every item untouched—exactly where he’d left them.
Dr. Chen knew Crimson Robe loved milk tea. But for now… it must simply be too early. She only appears after dark, and it was still daytime.
“Did you upset your wife?”
“How did you know?”
“Every user is under our surveillance. The method? Confidential.”
“Figured you’d say that. Wait—before I ask: are you male or female?”
“Why do you care?”
“I just want to learn how to win a girl’s heart. If you’re a guy, you’ve got pickup tricks. If you’re a girl, you’d know what we like. Diamond rings? Cash?”
“How vulgar! Not every girl cares about that. And… you’re trying to win over that Malevolent Ghost, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I’d rather not die by her hands.”
“Straight talk: that Malevolent Ghost is utterly obsessed with you. A Malevolent Ghost has no reason—every emotion is amplified beyond measure. Die with resentment? That grudge consumes everything. Even the gentlest soul, twisted by post-death rage, will slaughter anyone tainted by it. Love works the same. You are her entire world. Her fractured mind holds only you. Sealed for a thousand years—her grudge built up… and so did the love buried deep inside. Get it now… kid?”
Put simply: a Malevolent Ghost hunts its target without rest until death. Marked? No escape. Her love is just as absolute—she’ll use any means to keep you beside her. Forever.
“Great. I’m *so* lucky,” Dr. Chen muttered, wishing desperately it were hatred she felt, not love.
“Be grateful you met her. With your current state, you wouldn’t have survived the first haunted location.”
“Dying by other ghosts? A mercy. If *she* kills me… nightmare begins. My soul trapped beside her forever. Worse than death.”
Shaken by yesterday’s horror, Dr. Chen didn’t dare stray a step from the jar. He stayed glued to its side, terrified of provoking her again.
He went to bed on time, hoping to meet the young lady in his dreams.
After two full days faithfully accompanying his “wife,” a physically and mentally exhausted Dr. Chen packed his tools and the jar on the third morning.
Knowing he’d spend the night at the asylum, he also tucked in some pastries he’d bought earlier. Only two cups of milk tea were gone; everything else remained untouched.
Eight hours before the mission began, Dr. Chen arrived at the mental hospital via phone navigation. Remote suburb. A lone hill. One building standing in isolation.
A white U-shaped structure, five stories high, housed all wards. Every window barred with thick steel to prevent escapes. Only the main gate served as an exit.
The courtyard gate was locked and sealed—but quilts hung moldy and rotten on clotheslines. Proof the place was abandoned in a hurry. Why air quilts otherwise?
“What happened here?” Scaling the wall, Dr. Chen approached the building—then froze. Shadows darted through the first-floor hallway.
Ghosts… out in broad daylight?
