Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My name is Chen Song. I am thirty-eight years old and a well-known horror novelist.

Having spent years immersed in the genre, I’ve mastered the craft to a high degree. Other authors’ horror stories rarely move me; these days, I can only be frightened by my own work.

However, the higher the skill level, the harder it is to achieve a new breakthrough. Since the beginning of this year, a persistent lack of inspiration has been tormenting me.

I couldn’t endure the agony of sitting at my desk, unable to put pen to paper. Rather than churning out subpar writing just to scrape by-only to be mocked for having lost my touch-I decided it was better to retire while I was still ahead.

And so, I announced my retirement from writing.

But a letter from a reader shattered my peaceful life.

Last weekend, while my wife was out at an exhibition with her best friend, I was reading in my study.

The mailman arrived with this letter. It was thick and required my personal signature.

In my years of writing, I’ve often received letters from readers. Most express love for my work or admiration for me personally.

Some are thick envelopes like this one. Usually, they contain manuscripts sent by readers hoping for my guidance.

I tore it open and skimmed a few lines, only to realize it wasn’t a story, but a personal letter. The handwriting was elegant, clearly from a female reader.

As I read a few more lines, a subtle, chilling premonition washed over me.

So, I kept reading.