Supernatural

I was livestreaming in the Dormitory when viewers noticed that the Ceiling was leaking.

Everyone urged me to call a School Worker to fix it, but there was one Danmaku that said:

“This Dormitory is a Coffin Room. No one who lives here can leave alive.”

Everyone knew that Fu Shengchao, the titan of the Beijing Circle, loved his wife more than life itself.

On the day she died in a car accident, his hair turned white overnight.

From then on, he grew more and more violent, and his relationship with his son became increasingly distant.

Father and son ended up treating each other like enemies.

Later, Fu Shengchao finally relented and agreed to find his son a stepmother.

I was among the candidates.

When our cooking skills were tested, everyone else presented delicacies fit for a banquet. I served a plate of stinky tofu.

When our talents were tested, everyone else showed off music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. I performed a set of tai chi.

When our knowledge of Fu Shengchao was tested, everyone else praised his abilities and glorious past achievements.

I leaned in and said, “CEO Fu, you have a mole on your left butt cheek.”

Fu Shengchao: “…”

That very night, I was kept behind.

Fu Shengchao pressed a gun to my temple, his expression cold.

“Talk. Who sent you?”

I dropped to my knees at once, but my eyes darted to the side.

Over there, a female ghost who had been dead for ten years was flying around in a panic. “That shouldn’t have happened! Everything I taught you was right!”

Bullshit! She also said her husband was cold on the outside but kind on the inside, and easy to coax!

A plague had infected the entire city.

Everyone was suffering from a persistent high fever, gradually losing their ability to work.

I, however, posted on Weibo: “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of it.”

The next second, I was dragged onto the trending searches and bombarded with insults.

What they didn’t know was that I was the sole Earth Master successor, and the one who started this plague in the first place.

During filming, the female lead intentionally shattered my Jadeite Earring, the one that never left my side.

My face turned deathly pale as I gasped. My Best Actor boyfriend, however, urged me to be magnanimous.

But no one saw the Companion Greed Maiden, sealed for five years, whispering in my ear: “Whose fortune shall we take first?”

After being selected by the Horror Game, I took over a snack stall at the village entrance.

An Eerie opened its bloody maw to take a bite out of me, but I reached back and stuffed a meat-filled Mo into its mouth.

He chewed thoughtfully. “Forget it,” he muttered. “Since there’s Mo to eat, I’ll kill you tomorrow instead.”

The next day, it was fresh, fragrant wontons, stir-fried snails with perilla, peppery pork tripe soup, fried skewers, and spicy Malatang…

Every Eerie that passed by abandoned their hunt, burying their faces in the food and eating like possessed creatures.

The viewers in the Live Stream watched in shock as I survived until the very end, all thanks to a single cooking pot.

A friend of mine was developing a residential complex for a real estate company in Xi’an when they discovered an ancient tomb. To avoid delaying construction, they chose to cover it up and report nothing. But none of them expected that someone would write a line on the wall of the work shed in red pen. Rules of the corpse-nurturing ground: 1. Do not feed the corpses raw meat. 2. If you see a child under the age of ten, close your eyes immediately. 3. Eat the rats.

I picked up a beautiful black snake.

I often held it in my palm, idly playing with it.

Its tail would coil around my arm, the cool sensation so pleasing I could hardly bear to let go.

Later, in the depths of night, that same cool tail wrapped around my waist, my stomach, and my thighs, bringing an entirely different kind of sensation.

I am an NPC in the game City of Desire.

By day, I sell fragrant, freshly baked bread; by night, I find my pleasure in butchering men.

On the night the bakery closed early, a heavy rain was falling.

A man walked in. Beneath his black raincoat was a naked body and a sharp knife.

I took a bite of my toast and bowed in welcome. Then, as his eyes filled with terror, I raised the chainsaw I had been hiding behind my back.

Bang! Ten minutes later, his head exploded inside the oven. As flesh and blood splattered everywhere, I beamed with joy.

“Welcome to City of Desire, Player. I hope you enjoy your game!”

On our wedding day, my husband suddenly ascended to godhood.

Just like in my previous life, he offered me a mountain of heavenly treasures out of guilt.

Back then, I refused to take them, stubbornly insisting on following him.

Later, in the boundless, lonely Immortal Realm, I endured endless suffering.

It ended when the goddess who loved him tricked me into jumping off Reincarnation Cliff.

As my body perished and my soul flickered out, Xie Yunji didn’t even spare me a single glance.

When I opened my eyes again, my husband had become a god once more.

He still feared I would cling to him, his brow furrowed with impatience. “I carry a divine mandate; I cannot be tethered by the private feelings of one person.”

“You are a mortal. How could you possibly enter the Immortal Realm?” I stared at him for a long time before finally speaking.

“I’m not going to the Immortal Realm anymore. You can go.”

When I was six years old, I first discovered I could see things that didn’t belong to this world.

My grandfather passed away that year, and we moved into his home in the Grain Bureau Residential Compound.

A week after he died, I saw him at home again. He was leaning on a dragon-head cane, tottering toward the bathroom all by himself.

I followed him, only to find the bathroom completely empty.

I told my dad about it, and he slapped me hard across the face.

Grandma said I was seeing “unclean things.”

But later, I realized I could see more than just the dead; I could see the living, too.

For instance, Aunt Chen from the compound had been away on a business trip to Beijing for several days. Yet one afternoon, I ran into her in the stairwell-just a fleeting glimpse.

I ran off to tell the adults who were outside enjoying the cool air. As a result, when Aunt Chen finally did come home, she and her husband had a massive row.