Ghosts

When Chu Yue woke up, he found himself thrown into a horror escape game.

A White Fox calmly informed him that this Instance had a one hundred percent mortality rate, and a bratty little kid would try to yank his pajamas off at the slightest provocation. After several days of clawing his way through just to stay alive, Chu Yue finally made it out of the game-only to realize it seemed he’d brought something… unbelievable back with him.

The fancy chocolates a client from the company had given him? Gone.

The jelly his little niece had left at his place? Gone.

The premium whiskey his friend had gifted him for his birthday? Gone.

Chu Yue: “You can eat my stuff, fine, but could you not scare me in the middle of the night?”

Someone: “I have to keep an eye on you. If you suddenly decide to run away, I can always just eat you instead.”

Chu Yue: “…”

A few days later, when he entered the game again, he came prepared.

Chu Yue understood one thing very clearly: he was different from the other players who were dragged into this game.

He was entering the game to have his wish granted-and even more so, to pay off a debt…

“Player 099’s redemption challenge has begun. Are you ready?”

I’m a washed-up, eighteenth-tier starlet who spent three years playing the submissive role just to marry into the Jiang Family, the wealthiest clan in the Beijing circle.

My three-hundred-million-yuan ‘wedding of the century’ to Jiang Yuan, the family’s only son, instantly shot to the top of the trending searches.

However, a big shot from the metaphysics circle claimed I had the face of a concubine.

The livestream chat exploded immediately:

“That’s hilarious. It’s the year 3202-who still becomes a concubine?”

“Is it possible they don’t mean a concubine, but a mistress?”

My expression darkened. I joined the livestream and pulled out my marriage certificate for everyone to see.

To my surprise, the master simply said:

“Among the living, you are indeed the primary wife.

“But if we’re counting the dead… well, that’s a different story.”

The media reported that Hong Kong’s Richest Man had proposed to me. His eight girlfriends couldn’t sit still after hearing the news and sent people to kidnap me.

I said helplessly, “Have any of you ever seen someone propose by kneeling on both knees?”

Hong Kong’s Richest Man personally stepped forward to debunk the rumors.

“You can insult me, but you cannot humiliate Master Qiao like this.”

I fell into a world of Strange Tales, but I thought I was playing a romance otome game.

At the stroke of midnight, the cobweb-covered landline rang. A raspy, eerie voice drifted through the receiver.

“You watched that videotape, didn’t you? In seven days… I will come for you…”

Me:

“Why seven days? Are you just not going to contact me at all during that time? Is this the silent treatment?

“And you’re only messaging me at midnight? Ah, I get it. You probably just finished spending time with someone else, and now your conscience is pricking you, so you’ve come to check on me.

“What’s the point of just calling? If you actually cared about me, you’d be by my side constantly. I absolutely hate long-distance relationships!”

Strange Tale: “Uh… I’ll come sooner, then.”

The other participants struggling to survive: “? No, wait, man! He said he’d take our lives in seven days-why the hell is he starting his shift early?”

Over the weekend, while I was out grocery shopping, someone shoved a red envelope into my hand.

Inside was a note: [Three years of your life have been borrowed. If you pass this on or drop it in a merit box, your entire family will perish.]

Clutching the 900 yuan, I chuckled and chased after the person.

“Are you sure you want to try life‑borrowing from me?”

She shot me a glare, barked “Psychopath!” and spun around to bolt.

I couldn’t help but smile. To think someone actually had the nerve to try life‑borrowing from one of the Living Dead.

I married into an ancient manor. My husband was handsome and gentle, spending every day personally selecting hairpins and picking out dresses for me.

Later, I discovered the manor’s secret, and my eyes welled with tears of terror.

He said, “You’re trembling. It’s not because you’re afraid of me, is it?”

“It’s alright. You just haven’t adjusted yet. I’ll teach you, slowly…”

On the first day after I died, my boyfriend brought his first love back home.

They kissed passionately on the sofa I bought, acting as if no one else were there. They ate the celery dumplings I had made by hand and played with the gaming console I had given him.

One day, his first love asked curiously, “Where’s An’an?”

My boyfriend’s voice was calm. “We had a fight a few days ago. She applied for a business trip with her company.”

Oh, he still doesn’t know that I’m dead.

In our village, there was an abandoned Brick Kiln rumored to be haunted.

During my first year of middle school, a few classmates and I went to the kiln for an adventure. We unexpectedly stumbled upon a swarm of rats worshipping a wall, all of them throwing themselves against it until they died…

In that moment, I realized there was truly something in that kiln that shouldn’t be provoked.

Unfortunately, it was already too late. From then on, my friends began to die one after another.

Until one night, that thing finally stood at the head of my bed…

I caught COVID. When my fever hit 102 degrees, I saw my boyfriend.

But he’d been dead for years.

That meant what I was looking at was a ghost!

I held up the talisman on my chest and screamed, “Evil spirits, get the hell away from me!”

“What a powerful spell!” He clutched his chest, stumbling back step by step.

Then, with slow and exaggerated movements, he collapsed onto the floor.

“Oh no, I’m done for… I can’t go on…”

I stared at him. “Are you… mocking me?”

He stood right back up. “Haha, totally got you!”

I rolled my eyes.

It was definitely him.

My boyfriend had been just as much of a dork when he was alive.

During an intimate moment, I accidentally scratched the tattoo on my boyfriend’s back, and he suddenly flew into a rage.

Feeling deeply wronged, I went to an emotional support livestream that night to talk about what happened.

The audience chimed in one after another to defend me, suspecting that my boyfriend’s feelings for me had changed.

Only the Host asked with a dead-serious expression:

“That tattoo on your boyfriend’s back-is it a bottle?”