Chapter Sixteen: The Person Beside the Television

The scene inside the bathtub was horrifying. Even seasoned detectives with years of experience couldn’t help but gasp, their faces turning pale.

Wen Ke stepped out of the secret room.

Now it was time for the forensic team to take over.

Walking out of the villa, Wen Ke took a breath of fresh air, feeling as if the staleness in her lungs had been expelled. She glanced toward Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang, who were still vomiting uncontrollably in the distance, and shook her head.

Those two young officers still had a long way to go.

Her thoughts drifted to Lu Yuan.

When Lu Yuan had entered the villa earlier, there were still bloodstains on the floor. Although he saw them, he remained remarkably calm.

Of course, residual bloodstains are vastly different from an actual corpse, but Lu Yuan was only a psychologist. Knowing he was at a murder scene yet showing no signs of panic or fear left a deep impression on her.

Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang, having emptied their stomachs, returned to Wen Ke’s side with unsteady steps.

“Team Leader Wen, I’m ashamed,” Xiao Wang admitted.

“It’s not your fault. You’re still young and inexperienced,” Wen Ke said, her mind still preoccupied with the secret room.

An Shi, the prime suspect, was dead—another murder case.

Wen Ke felt a headache coming on.

The main issue was the lack of clues.

Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang scratched their heads awkwardly. “Team Leader Wen, you’re young too, but you’re really impressive.”

Wen Ke gave a wry smile.

Come to think of it, she wasn’t much older—just two years senior to them and the same age as Lu Yuan.

“You two don’t need to enter the villa for now; it’s better you don’t see it. I have a new assignment for you.”

“Based on An Shi’s patient list, visit each one individually. Inquire about An Shi’s daily interpersonal relationships, and whether he had any conflicts or grudges.”

An Shi had no family or relatives in S City. The people he interacted with most were his patients.

Perhaps something could be uncovered through them.

Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang nodded solemnly. “Understood, Team Leader Wen.”

Now, the entire East District Police Department in S City was under immense pressure. No homicide had occurred in nearly a decade, and suddenly, two happened at once.

The forensic team’s preliminary examination at the scene could only estimate the time of death and the fatal wounds. A more detailed autopsy required transporting the bodies back to the station.

Looks like there would be no sleep tonight.

...

After leaving the villa district, Lu Yuan didn’t take a taxi. Instead, he walked for four or five hours until he reached his home.

Near his psychological clinic, he stopped at a small restaurant and bought the cheapest egg fried rice, sitting down to eat.

“I’m out of money,” he muttered, checking his balance.

If this went on much longer, Lu Yuan wouldn’t even be able to afford meals.

He now had to worry not only about possibly dying anytime in the eerie dream world but also about starving to death in reality.

Life was truly miserable.

His psychological clinic was temporarily closed.

Lu Yuan himself was struggling with mental illness, let alone treating others. With no patients to speak of, he could only subsist on thin air.

While eating, Lu Yuan browsed job-hunting apps on his phone.

Scanning through them, it seemed he could only apply for security guard or janitorial positions.

His college major was somewhat specialized. If he hadn’t been assigned to a hospital right after graduation, finding a job matching his expertise now would be difficult.

“Actually, being a security guard isn’t bad—good pay, night shifts... maybe if I stay up enough nights, I can even outlast that nightmare world,” Lu Yuan thought, tempted.

After finishing his meal, Lu Yuan returned to his psychological clinic.

“When I can afford it, I’ll buy a bed,” he said. Though he didn’t want to sleep, he was still human—no one could go without sleep forever.

He planned to apply for a security guard position tomorrow.

Today, he’d rest.

After a simple shower, Lu Yuan sat in his chair scrolling through recent news. The biggest headline in S City was still the murder case in Villa District 14.

Many journalists had written articles about it, some without even entering the villas, yet their fabricated stories sounded plausible.

He casually scrolled down, noticing numerous comments beneath the articles, mostly expressing unease and fear.

Then his finger paused.

Under one article, a comment caught his eye: “The killer is not human—it’s a wraith, and it will keep killing.”

Lu Yuan’s eyes flickered.

To be honest, similar comments appeared under many articles. Since the journalists’ accounts were speculative, the public had little choice but to guess.

What drew Lu Yuan’s attention was the use of the word “wraith,” not “ghost.”

He hesitated briefly, then clicked on the commenter’s avatar to visit their profile.

The profile picture appeared to be the person himself—a young man with a bright smile.

His account name was “Mu Dong of Ai Yanyan.”

After some time, Lu Yuan tapped private message and sent: “Hello, I’m very interested in your comment about the ‘wraith’ killer. May we talk?”

He stared at his phone. Half an hour passed, but the message remained unread.

They were probably busy.

Only someone like Lu Yuan, unemployed and with nothing better to do, would stare at their phone all day.

...

Lu Yuan set his phone aside and took out some sleeping pills from a drawer, staring at them thoughtfully.

It was nine o’clock at night.

He sat in his chair, eyes fixed on the quartz clock on the wall. All he could hear was the ticking.

“I must have suddenly passed out around ten last night,” Lu Yuan recalled the time on the clock from the previous evening.

He brewed all the instant coffee packets he had into a single concentrated cup, grimacing as he downed it.

Tonight, no matter what, he couldn’t sleep!

Seconds ticked by.

Lu Yuan’s gaze seemed nailed to the wall, locked in stubborn determination.

“Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

...

He watched the second hand approach the ten o’clock mark.

“I can’t sleep. I absolutely mustn’t sleep!”

He slapped himself several times, using the simplest physical means to stay alert.

Tick.

The second hand hit the twelve.

Ring ring ring—

Startled, Lu Yuan’s phone rang.

Before he could reach for it, his eyes began to spin and blur. In the last second before succumbing to sleep, he cursed, “Damn it.”

With a thud, his head hit the desk, and he fell into a deep slumber.

First came a world of darkness, then one bathed in blood.

Lu Yuan awoke.

He was still lying in bed.

This bed was his point of resurrection.

Outside the window, the sky was still a dull gray, obscuring all details. The bedroom was dark except for the faint glow of a black-and-white television.

Clutching a fruit knife tightly, Lu Yuan was gripped by fear—because beside the TV, someone seemed to be standing there.

He was not alone in the room.