My face flushed red. As the green glow faded away, I looked around in surprise. I remembered Yuna Ji had once mentioned that anyone who escaped from Netherhell would return to the place truest to their own heart.
I glanced around—this was my home. I was alone, standing in the living room. My parents' bedroom door was closed, and I hurriedly called out.
"Dad, Mom, I'm back."
I walked up to the bedroom door and knocked. There was a strange odor inside—sour and rotten, like decaying food. I grew cautious, scanning the room.
I knocked on my parents' bedroom door again. With a creak, the door opened. Everything inside was neat, the windows shut, but I caught a whiff of dust.
I left the room and ran my hand over the table—a thick layer of dust. It hadn't been cleaned in days.
That sour stench hit me again, this time from the kitchen. Alarmed, I rushed in and immediately covered my mouth as my stomach churned.
It was food—a whole table of spoiled dishes. A bowl of halal fish was crawling with maggots. I dashed out of the kitchen, my stomach in knots.
Worried, I searched everywhere—even checked the landline call records. The earliest entry was from ten days ago, a call from one of my dad's mahjong friends. I dialed the number at once.
After asking for a while, I learned my parents had gone on a trip, planning to have some fun. They'd tried calling me, but couldn't get through—probably while I was in the Ghostrealm. Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief.
However, in that instant, I stood up again and walked to the kitchen. Two bowls of rice were already moldy. Knowing my parents’ personalities, there’s no way they’d leave a whole table of food behind and just go out. I considered maybe they missed their flight or something, but that’s impossible. My parents are meticulous planners—if they were traveling far, they’d have prepared days in advance.
The more I thought about it, the more fearful I became. I opened the door and knocked on the neighbors’ doors, asking each family. Most of the answers were the same—no one had seen my parents, not even in the past few days. I asked about ten days ago, but everyone said they hadn’t seen my parents leave.
The most crucial detail—I checked their room. The suitcase was still there, and all their clothes were neatly hanging in the closet.
The more I thought, the more terrified I felt. I contacted the property management company, using my police credentials to get them to pull up the surveillance footage. I sat in front of the monitor, fast-forwarding through the records from ten days ago—December 5th—staring at my family’s door.
At 6 a.m., my parents got up and went out for a morning run, returning home at 8. After that, they didn’t leave the house for the entire day.
I watched the surveillance for hours, all the way from December 5th to today, December 15th. Not once did my parents appear on camera.
Eyes red, I walked out of the monitoring room.
“Dad, Mom, where did you go?”
Suddenly, a wave of grief crashed over me, making it hard to breathe. I braced myself against the wall, step by step, returning home, and sat in silence on the sofa. The house was empty.
Beep beep beep—the phone rang. I rushed over, grabbing it as if seizing a lifeline.
"Qingyuan, is that you? Are you home yet?"
It was Rachel Lan’s voice. The moment I heard her, my words came out choked with tears.
"My parents... they're gone. They're missing..."
After a while, comforted by Rachel Lan's gentle words, I finally calmed down.
"It must be ghosts. I just know it—it has to be..."
"Qingyuan, don’t panic. I’ll notify everyone now and have the Ghost Burial Squad come over to investigate the scene. I’m on my way."
After hanging up, fear gnawed at me even more. I wondered if I’d angered some vengeful spirit and it had taken my parents... I didn’t dare think any further.
Back in my room, I couldn’t breathe. I opened the window, and suddenly, I screamed—there was Yin Choujian, floating outside in a deep blue-black suit, his expression half-smiling, half-serious, strikingly handsome and gentle as he drifted in.
"Bro, you just got back and already look so down?"
"My parents are missing."
I snapped back, annoyed. Yin Choujian sat on my bed, one leg crossed over the other, hands resting on his knee, glancing around the room.
I sat beside him, slumped and defeated. Yin Choujian reached out and patted my shoulder.
"It’s nothing, bro. They’re just missing, right? Heh, you’ll find them eventually..."
Seeing Yin Choujian’s ambiguous smile, suspicion crept into my mind.
"Do you know something? Tell me now."
"Just letting you know, bro: your Seven Calamities, the second one, is almost here. Be careful."
I stared wide-eyed at Yin Choujian, and with a whoosh, he flew out the window.
"Where are you going?"
"Just getting some fresh air. Want to come along, bro, if you’re feeling down?"
Yin Choujian extended his hand. I stepped onto the bed, grabbed it, and together we soared into the night sky. Above us, stars glittered; below, the city blazed with lights and life.
It was cold, but somehow, I’d grown used to this chill. With Yin Choujian leading me, we drifted slowly through the air, the wind brushing past.
"How is it? Comfortable, right, bro?"
I nodded. Yin Choujian grinned, then suddenly raised his hand. A faint blood-red hue spread across the sky, strangely beautiful. I stared in awe.
"Bro, since you’ve chosen this path, you have to keep going. After all, I’ll need your help in the future..."
"Of course. I, Ethan Zhang, am your friend, Yin Choujian... right?"
As soon as I got home, I was shivering. That brief moment in the sky had swept away my gloom. Ding-dong—the doorbell rang. I hurried over and opened the door.
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Rachel Lan stood outside, forehead shiny with sweat, breathing hard, wearing only a gray cloak, a black vest underneath, and jeans. Her hair was still damp.
"Are you alright, Rachel?"
Rachel Lan shook her head, then looked at me with surprise.
Rachel Lan’s hands and feet were icy. I took her hand, hurriedly switched on the heater, and fetched the space heater.
"Are you okay, Qingyuan?"
I smiled and replied.
"It’s fine. As long as I’m alive, no matter where they are, I’ll find them—just like I found you."
No sooner had I finished than Rachel Lan reached out and pinched my lips shut.
"Qingyuan, did your cousin brainwash you? Don’t say such cheesy things."
I realized instantly and awkwardly mumbled an apology. Rachel Lan let go, smiling brightly.
Then I handed Rachel Lan my parents’ birth dates. She made a call, asked some careful questions, and hung up.
"I asked my colleagues. Your parents have long lives ahead—they’re fine. The Ghost Burial Squad will be here soon to check the area thoroughly."
Then Rachel Lan and I walked into my parents’ room and began searching everywhere. Nothing seemed unusual. In a small drawer, I found a pile of letters.
My father’s a bit of a relic—despite living in the age of smartphones, he still preferred corresponding with distant friends by mail. I glanced at the dates; nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Rachel Lan helped me check each letter. I felt a little guilty, but there was no other way. We went through hundreds of them—nothing suspicious.
"Qingyuan, this letter mentions a horror story."
Suddenly, I remembered: when I’d come home before, there was a book called Horror Stories. I’d thought it was just a joke, but then, uneasy, I handed it over to Hu Tianshuo to take back to the Ghost Burial Squad.
The letter was from someone named Zhou Minzao, apparently an old acquaintance of my father. It said that, years ago, he’d borrowed a book called Horror Stories from our house and intended to return it—the date was three months ago.
The letter said the book belonged to me.
A thousand questions raced through my mind. Rachel Lan immediately dialed Hu Tianshuo, spoke at length, and hung up.
Soon after, the phone rang again. Rachel Lan listened, her face darkened, and she hung up.
"What happened?"
"The book that was in the storage room—sealed in a bag and marked with a yellow talisman—has vanished. They’re checking the surveillance footage."
My previously calm heart grew agitated.
Around 2 a.m., the doorbell rang. I jumped up from the sofa as Hu Tianshuo and Li Guohao arrived, leading a dozen members of the Ghost Burial Squad.
"Get to work. Search every corner thoroughly."
"Tianshuo, why aren’t you resting? Aren’t you—"
"Enough, Qingyuan. It’s nothing. Those guys are probably still sleeping like the dead. But your situation is more important."
Some of the Ghost Burial Squad headed to the property management office. I explained about the surveillance footage.
"What’s the situation?"
I asked. Hu Tianshuo shook his head.
"We’ve checked the footage from when the book was stored until now. It’s as if the book simply vanished into thin air."
I lowered my head, feeling miserable. Rachel Lan patted my back.
Finally, around 4 a.m., it seemed we had an answer. Hu Tianshuo walked into the still-messy kitchen and pointed at the table.
"All signs point to them vanishing in this kitchen. There was something on the floor—judging by the dust, probably a book."