Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My name is Zhou Jiu, and I am a professional haunted-house test sleeper.

To put it nicely, I’m a real estate risk assessor. To put it bluntly, if there are rumors of a haunting, if someone died there, or if a property simply won’t sell, I’m the one who grabs a bag and spends the night.

I’ve written over a hundred reports.

In the apartment where a woman supposedly cried in the elevator, my inspection found it was just water pipe resonance.

In the villa where the windows allegedly opened themselves at midnight, it was just old wooden frames warping from the humidity.

When a homeowner claimed there was a child crawling under the bed, I got down on my stomach and found a litter of newborn stray cats.

After doing this for a long time, a person becomes quite dull. When others talk about ghosts, the first thing I ask for is the property maintenance records. When others talk about vengeful spirits seeking lives, I check for formaldehyde and carbon monoxide first.

That was until this afternoon, when a red urgent alert popped up on the company’s dispatch system.

Address: The old Zhou residence, Huailing Town.

Test Sleep Time: 11:00 PM tonight to 5:00 AM tomorrow morning.

Note: This assignment cannot be declined.

I stared at those words, my finger frozen on the mouse.

My colleague, Old Xu, leaned over to take a look, and his expression changed. “The old Zhou residence? Isn’t that your hometown?”

I didn’t say anything.

Old Xu knew a little about my past. Fifteen years ago, a massive fire broke out in Huailing Town, burning down the three-courtyard Zhou family estate. Out of a family of seven, only one seven-year-old child survived.

That child was me.

Old Xu lowered his voice. “How about I talk to the boss for you? Don’t take this job. No matter how strict the company rules are, they shouldn’t be sending someone back to their own haunted house to be a test sleeper.”

I looked at the screen and gave a small smile. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“That house burned down a long time ago,” I said. “What’s there to be afraid of on a patch of bare ground?”

I accepted the mission, and the system quickly flashed a confirmation receipt. The mission clock in the bottom right corner began its countdown, looking like an eye that refused to blink.

Before leaving work, I opened the photo album on my phone and scrolled to a black-and-white photo I had kept hidden for fifteen years.

The photo was taken three days after the fire.

A seven-year-old me stood before the charred ruins, wearing a hospital gown provided by the infirmary, my face devoid of expression. Behind me were collapsed beams, burnt-out walls, and a shadow as thick as ink.

I used to think it was just an exposure issue.

But looking at it again today, there is clearly a humanoid figure standing in the shadows.

Thin and small, exactly as tall as the seven-year-old me.

He stood behind my back, head tilted slightly, as if looking at the camera.

And as if looking at me.