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Chapter 2
Tang Yu could hear his own ragged breathing — heavy, uneven, desperate.
His bare feet pressed against the freezing floor, his head spinning so badly the whole world seemed to tilt and blur.
The phone slipped weakly from his hand, dangling uselessly as the relentless string of message alerts continued to ring out, one after another, like shrill alarm bells.
His trembling palm groped for the doorknob. Summoning every ounce of strength, he pulled the door open just a crack—
—and froze.
His blue eyes constricted sharply, panic and agony solidifying into something almost tangible.
“Shen…”
“Xiaoyu.”
Shen Junxing stood outside the door.
Half his body was swallowed by shadow, cutting him neatly into light and dark.
He had the kind of face that naturally looked like it was smiling — clean features, an elegant nose framed by rimless glasses. His narrow eyes always seemed to carry an unreadable gentleness, but if you looked closer, there was a depth there that could pull you in and never let you out.
Now, that handsome face was filled with apparent concern.
“Are you alright? I came as soon as I could.”
Clatter—
Tang Yu’s phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.
The screen lit up — filled with a flood of unread messages, all from Shen Junxing.
“Why aren’t you wearing shoes? Be careful not to catch a cold.”
“Walk slowly, don’t trip.”
“Why are you still wrapped in the blanket? Are you cold?”
…
“Don’t worry, I’ll always be with you.”
“I’m coming to find you.”
With a loud bang, Tang Yu slammed the door shut.
The effort seemed to drain the last of his strength. His back slid down the door until he sat on the floor, tears spilling from his blue eyes in a sudden, unstoppable rush.
They rolled down his pale face, messy, frantic, and silent.
Then — knock, knock, knock.
The sound hit like a gunshot, making his whole body flinch violently.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Slow, deliberate, unhurried.
The rhythm was so him — so very Shen Junxing.
Always calm, always composed.
Tang Yu clutched his ears with both hands.
How… how could it be Shen Junxing?
He’d just called the police…
If they came and found him here, Shen Junxing’s future would be ruined.
If word got out, people would talk, whisper, point fingers at him — at that perfect, brilliant Shen Junxing.
The same Shen Junxing who’d always taken care of him.
Always smiled at him.
“Shen… Junxing…”
His voice trembled, soft as a dying flame.
“Delete everything… all of it… I’ll pretend… none of this ever happened.”
The knocking stopped.
A beat later, came a calm, gentle voice — hiding something pleased, something dark beneath.
“Alright.”
A pale, elegant hand gripped the doorknob. The veins beneath the skin stood out like faint rivers.
The door pushed open just slightly — a thin slit of light cutting through the dark.
Tang Yu held his breath, tiptoeing forward. The brim of his black cap cast a shadow over his eyes as he darted glances left and right, scanning every corner.
No sign of Shen Junxing.
He rushed toward the elevator. The moment his fingertip brushed the call button, something made him look up — at the elevator camera above.
A tiny red light blinked in the black lens.
His throat tightened; a thin line of tension stretched across his pale neck. He drew a shuddering breath, chest tight, then turned away and hurried toward the stairwell instead.
He turned on his phone’s flashlight.
His footsteps echoed up and down the stairwell — sometimes quick, sometimes stumbling.
The flickering security lights buzzed faintly overhead.
Every step sounded impossibly loud in the silence of night — pounding against his eardrums, his pulse, his heart.
Faster.
Faster!
He had to get out before Shen Junxing found him.
Ding!
The sudden message tone made him freeze mid-step.
For a moment, even his blood seemed to stop flowing. The vessels at his temples throbbed, drumming in his skull.
Counselor:
“It’s quite late, Tang Yu. Why not move into your new dorm tomorrow instead?”
When he saw the contact name, his heart — which had jumped into his throat — sank back down again.
Leaning weakly against the wall, he typed with trembling fingers:
“Thank you for checking, Teacher. I’ve already left.”
Counselor:
“Alright, be careful on the way. Message me once you arrive.”
Tang Yu turned off his screen — and saw, reflected faintly on the black glass, a blurred face.
Eyes and lips half-open, twisted in something like despair.
He didn’t need a mirror to know how awful he looked.
Flipping the phone back over, he turned the flashlight on again and kept moving. His breath came fast and hot, fogging the inside of his mask. With every exhale, the air around him grew thicker, heavier.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Down, down, down — each cold step pulling him deeper, as if he were descending into an endless nightmare.
At one point, he reached up to tug his mask down slightly — desperate for air. The chill hit his face, shocking his panicked mind into sudden, piercing clarity.
Wait…
He was wearing a black cap. And a mask.
Then why — on the phone screen just now — had he seen a whole, uncovered face?
The small gap of air in his mask sealed shut again — like invisible hands pressing firmly over his mouth and nose.
Tang Yu’s head jerked, stiff and unnatural, like a broken porcelain doll.
The voice-activated lights went out.
The stairwell plunged into absolute darkness.
Deprived of sight, his hearing sharpened — every tiny sound magnified until it filled his skull.
“Xiaoyu, where are you going?”
The voice was soft. Gentle. Almost tender.
…Ha.
Under the brim of his hat, Tang Yu’s blue eyes flew wide, bloodshot veins crawling across the whites.
His lips parted behind the mask, breath fogging against the cloth.
“You’re insane,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Xiaoyu, what are you saying?”
Tang Yu stared blankly into the dark — at the faint blue panel that floated above Shen Junxing’s head.
He thought numbly — Shen Junxing’s going to drive me mad.
He’s already made me into a lunatic.
“Xiaoyu.”
The voice came closer. Something in the dark leaned down, closing the distance between them, its presence pressing against the edge of his balance on the stairs.
No… No, don’t—don’t come closer!
Smack!
The motion burst out of him before he even realized it.
The voice-activated light flared on just in time to illuminate his palm striking Shen Junxing’s handsome face. The blow knocked his glasses askew across his high nose bridge.
What… what just happened?
Tang Yu’s blue eyes went wide, stunned.
He stared as Shen Junxing froze mid-motion, head tilted slightly from the hit — his disheveled glasses sliding down to reveal his bare, unguarded eyes for the first time.
Those eyes were black.
Black like the deepest sea beneath a moonless night — until, suddenly, a cold, white moon rose above it, and every ripple reflected its light.
Shen Junxing stared straight ahead — not at Tang Yu, but at something invisible in the air.
Like he was staring… at the moonlight itself.
A chill climbed up Tang Yu’s spine, sharp as ice. He couldn’t hold it back any longer —
“Don’t come near me!”
He yanked his shaking hand back, stumbled down the stairs as fast as he could.
Halfway down, he dared to glance over his shoulder — and saw the frozen figure finally move.
Shen Junxing raised a hand… and calmly adjusted his glasses.
Tang Yu tore his gaze away, bolting down the stairs. He ran, ran, ran — until he burst out of the building and into the open air of the street.
At the end of the road, a bus was approaching — the last one headed toward the university.
Tang Yu waved frantically.
The bus hissed to a stop.
He turned once more — the residential complex behind him was pitch black.
Heart pounding, he climbed aboard. Before he could even tap his card, he gasped to the driver:
“Please—just go. Drive, please!”
The door shut with a heavy clunk.
Tang Yu stared out the window, chest heaving — not noticing that above him, the small red light of the bus’s surveillance camera flicked on.
Rumble…
The bus started moving.
He collapsed into the seat by the window, clutching his chest with trembling hands, his breath ragged and uneven. After a while, he pressed his hand over his eyes, shoulders shaking slightly with each bump of the road — like a child crying silently after doing something wrong.
He didn’t know how much time passed before the trembling stopped.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
He fell asleep.
Outside, the city lights blurred and shifted.
The bus’s interior lights flickered — flashes of brightness seeping through his closed eyelids, staining his dream with strange, kaleidoscopic colors.
His sleep was restless.
Then—
A sound.
Ding.
Like a bell being rung by a pale, invisible hand — a sound that seemed to come from inside his skull.
A cold, mechanical voice followed, devoid of all emotion:
“Countdown to the launch of ‘Weird Revival.’”
What…?
Still trapped somewhere between sleep and waking, Tang Yu frowned weakly.
“Three.”
His blue eyes fluttered open, sweat and tears streaking his pale face.
“Two.”
Wait—
That voice…
Why did it sound like it was…
Coming from inside his head?
“One.”
The bus doors hissed open.
A rush of noise poured in — laughter, chatter, footsteps, all bubbling with energy.
“Game start.”
Tang Yu lifted his head blankly.
Outside the window —
he saw a crowd of people, each with a glowing player panel floating above their heads, logging into the world with bright smiles.
