Chapter 63: Chang Gui (3) part 1
The tall, burly man was stunned by her words, not understanding what she meant. What did she mean by “changing the script”?
What on earth was going on?
His flashlight was incredibly powerful; wherever the beam struck, the shadows had nowhere to hide. He then watched with wide eyes as a man with a tall, slender build and clean, handsome features slowly walked down the stairs. Notably, the man wore a utility vest and had a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips.
His features were undeniably attractive, but they were currently tinged with an air of impatient irritation. His dark pupils flicked toward the newcomer with a cool, sidelong glance as he stood in the middle of the stairs, looking down from a superior height. “Who are you?”
“Isn’t this an actor you found?” Bai Qiniang asked, puzzled. “Then why did he come up from below?”
“Who knows.” Jiang Si was already feeling irritable because they had been repeating this scene over and over. Just as he felt Bai Qiniang was finally getting into the zone, some weirdo had to jump out and ruin things. He stubbed out the cigarette and said crossly, “Can’t you tell he’s human? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
The second half was directed at the man.
The man held not just a phone, but also a black gimbalâprofessional filming equipment.
“You guys are filming a movie here?” The man also found it strange. “I’m an urban exploration streamer. I just came here a couple of days ago to scout the location, and I didn’t see your crew!”
“We just arrived,” Jiang Si said, knitting his brows. “What are you exploring here? There isn’t a soul around in the dead of night; even the birds are asleep. What’s the point of coming?”
The man asked in surprise, “You’re filming here and didn’t even do your research? This area is a famous ‘haunted land’ in Rongcheng. It’s legendary!”
“…”
Jiang Si wondered if they were even in the same Rongcheng. He had grown up here and had never heard of such a thing.
“This place,” he asked, “is there some story behind it?”
“Of course. Every famous haunted house or site has its paranormal legends. Not to mention the older stuffâjust look at a topic that’s been trending online lately.” The man adjusted the brightness of his flashlight with a click, and the beam now only barely illuminated a small area.
He held the flashlight pointing upward from below his chin. His jaw and the base of his nose were lit up, casting his entire face in an eerie glow under the deliberate bottom-lighting as he lowered his voice to set the mood.
“Lately, people have been receiving invitations for part-time jobs with incredibly generous pay. Without exception, the address is always this building. After many people arrived, they found there wasn’t a soul in sight. When they called back, the person on the other end still insisted on this specific address.”
“The most critical part is that some people went to the police, but it was useless. That phone number simply doesn’t exist. Yet, before the police investigation, many people had clearly managed to get through. Don’t you think thatâs incredibly creepy?”
The man waited for the man and woman before him to show looks of panic, but instead, they were both exceptionally calm.
Jiang Si at least gave a response, saying flatly, “Oh.”
Bai Qiniang didn’t even spare him a glance, busying herself with tidying her clothes.
“…You’ve heard of it?”
“No,” Jiang Si said.
“Then why are your reactions so calm? Don’t you find it terrifying to think about? That’s a non-existent number, yet over a dozen people successfully called it right here in this building!”
Listening to him talk, Jiang Si couldn’t help but raise a hand to stifle a yawn. He hadn’t slept well last night while talking to Hai Di on the phone, and he had to pull an all-nighter for filming tonight. His sleep time was nearly non-existent, so he was forced to rely on cigarettes to stay awake.
“We aren’t afraid.” Jiang Si didn’t want to waste any more time and pointed in a direction. “Why don’t you go over there? We need to continue filming. How about we each mind our own business and not disturb each other?”
The man’s online handle was Zuo Si Lao Wang (Death-Seeking Old Wang), and he had tens of thousands of followers on his platform. He was scheduled to start his livestream at 11:00 PM. Seeing that there was still some time left, he had thought about lingering to chat. But seeing Jiang Siâs dismissive attitude, he couldn’t stay any longer and could only nod in agreement.
“Alright then. I’ll see you guys later.”
He continued to climb to the upper floors, noting that this “film crew” actually only consisted of two people.
“Looks like a ragtag group, not a major production,” he chuckled to himself. He could hear the conversation of the two behind him even from a floor away.
The woman asked, “Did he just say there are ghosts here?”
The manâs tone was calm: “I don’t care whatâs here. If they disturb our filming again, even if it’s a ghost, I’ll have to give it a thrashing.”
He sure can talk big, Old Wang sneered. He couldn’t wait to see the guy’s mask slip; once he actually saw a ghost, he’d probably run faster than anyone.
Unaware of the manâs internal monologue, Jiang Si tidied up the set, fixed the camera position, and said to the several NPC ghosts standing in the hallway: “When she runs down later, you all slowly walk upward. Don’t stop until I call it. Got it?”
The NPC ghosts nodded silently.
Jiang Si returned to his spot with satisfaction. After a few seconds, he shouted: “Action!”
Bai Qiniang repeated her performance from earlier.
The temperature difference between day and night in Rongcheng had been quite large lately. The residential building at midnight was not only darker than during the day but also much colder. Gusts of chilly wind blew through the broken glass windows, wrapping tightly around Old Wangâs sides.
He was wearing a thin windbreaker, but he still felt the cold. He subconsciously crossed his arms and used his flashlight to slowly climb upward.
Having shaken off his earlier judgmental mood, he gradually began to be drawn in by the rhythmic sound of his own ascent, and he couldn’t help but count the steps in his head.
One, two…
The sound of footsteps echoed in the stairwell, turning from light to dull.
Watching the numbers increase bit by bit, Old Wang finally stopped at the eighth floor.
He sighed in relief, calming his heart which was pounding from the climb. Not letting his hands stay idle, he fixed the gimbal, mounted his phone, and adjusted the angle, preparing to start filming immediately.
Another gust of wind blew past. The flashlight he had placed by his feet, pointing toward the ceiling, suddenly tipped over and rolled deep into the corridor.
“Crap!” Old Wang yelped. He hurriedly chased after it, bending down and reaching out his arm to grab it.
The flashlight was stopped by something. He picked it up and, feeling lucky, raised his head, only to find that the thing in front of him wasn’t right.
Wasn’t this just a wall a moment ago?
How had it turned into a person?
Old Wang snapped upright, simultaneously shining his light forward. He was severely startled; his heart stopped for an instant, and he even held his breath.
“…” His voice trembled slightly as he spoke. “Are… are you one of the people filming downstairs?”
The person illuminated by the flashlight was a middle-aged man in his late forties or early fifties, wearing a faded white shirt and indigo pants. Aside from his somewhat pale complexion, everything else seemed normal.
He didn’t get angry even when the powerful light hit his eyes, instead nodding amiably. “I’m sorry, did I scare you? I was just passing through here.”
“Phew.” Old Wang cursed a few times in his head, but since the man was being polite, he felt he shouldn’t blame him for appearing suddenly. He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s my fault for being in such a hurry and not paying attention.”
“That’s good then.” The middle-aged man introduced himself: “I work here. You can call me Uncle Li or Old Li. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I’m a streamer here for a shoot.” Old Wang adjusted his equipment and turned the camera toward himself. Seeing Uncle Li curiously tilting his head to look, Old Wang included him in the frame. “Look, I’m livestreaming with my phone. It can’t compare to your professional equipment.”
“It’s all good,” Uncle Li said with a chuckle. “This thing of yours is quite impressive.”
“Ha, itâs just enough to make a living. I can’t compare to real actors.” Old Wang changed the subject. “I saw your director filming downstairs just now. Why are you here alone? Don’t you need to film?”
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