Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I returned to the main house and reopened my laptop.

The document was still stuck on the line: “Return?”

I didn’t select yes, and I didn’t select no.

Instead, I started a new paragraph below it.

Conclusion: The old Zhou residence is unfit for habitation.

First, there is an unexplainable spatial recurrence phenomenon at the original site.

Second, the residual folklore ritualistic elements within the house pose a continuous danger.

Third, the so-called test-sleeping subject is not real estate, but a Fire Gate maintained by the Zhou Family bloodline.

Fourth, any development, habitation, sale, or renovation could lead to the leakage of the anomalies within the gate.

Recommendation: Seal it.

Permanently seal it.

The moment I typed the final period, the entire house suddenly fell silent.

A prompt popped up on the computer: “Report failed to meet standards. Resubmit?”

I clicked no.

The screen went black.

The things outside the door began to roar.

Grandmother rushed over and grabbed my hand. “You’ve destroyed the Zhou Family!”

I looked at her. “The Zhou Family was destroyed long ago.”

Her hand froze in mid-air.

The grown-up “me” standing by the offering table suddenly gave a faint smile.

“You have one last thing to do,” he said.

“What?”

He pointed toward the Ancestral Hall. “Burn the names.”

The Zhou Family Fire-Warding Record was still in the Ancestral Hall.

I flipped to the page describing the Life-Substitution Technique and found that the words on it had changed.

Zhou Jiu, guarded the gate for fifteen years.

Zhou Jiu, borrowed life for fifteen years.

Two become one; the gate continues for thirty years.

I threw the booklet into the bronze basin and lit it.

When the flames leaped up, they weren’t red, but a ghastly white. The white fire illuminated the entire Ancestral Hall and the photos on the wall.

In the photos, the seven-year-old me and the child in the shadows turned their heads at the same time, looking at each other.

Then, they took each other’s hands.

As dawn approached, the old house began to collapse.

It wasn’t being burned down by fire; rather, it was like paper, curling layer by layer, turning black, and crumbling into ash.

Grandmother stood in the center of the courtyard as the black ash in the lamp finally burned out.

She looked at me, then at the other me, her lips trembling.

I thought she was going to apologize.

But in the end, she only said, “Little Jiu, don’t look back.”

This time, I didn’t listen to her.

I looked back and saw my father, mother, grandfather, eldest uncle, elder female cousin, and that seven-year-old child, all standing at the entrance of the main house.

Behind them, through the crack in the door, was an infinite darkness.

The grown-up “me” walked to my side.

“Are you going in?” I asked.

He shook his head. “The gate shouldn’t be guarded by just one person anymore.”

“Then who will guard it?”

He looked at the burning report.

The lines of text on the pages lit up one by one, like new door bolts.

I understood.

My profession was originally about entering haunted houses on behalf of the living and writing certifications on behalf of the dead.

This time, the report wasn’t certifying that the house was fine.

It was certifying that it wasn’t.

As long as someone believed this record, as long as it left a trace in the mortal world, the old Zhou residence would not be developed into a guesthouse, and the Fire Gate would not be opened as a tourist attraction.

The first rooster crowed in the distance.

The old house completely crumbled into ash.

I stood on a patch of barren white ground, clutching that charred wooden tablet in my hand. A line of small characters had been added to the back.

Zhou Jiu, has returned.

Once my phone regained its signal, Old Xu’s call came through immediately.

His voice was shaking. “Zhou Jiu, where were you last night? I called the police! The company system shows you never even accepted the job!”

I looked down at my feet.

In the morning sunlight, I had a shadow.

Only one.

“I went back to my hometown for a bit,” I said.

“Are you okay?”

I was about to answer when my phone vibrated again.

The company’s dispatch system popped up with a new task.

A red emergency.

Address: Old Xu’s house.

Test-sleeping time: 11:00 PM tonight to 5:00 AM tomorrow morning.

Note: You may not decline this task.

The task photo loaded automatically.

In the photo, Old Xu stood in front of an old building, his face pale. In the shadows of the hallway stood a person who looked exactly like him.

I stared at it in silence for a long time.

Then I opened last night’s report and added a final line at the end.

Postscript: If you see another version of yourself, do not enter the door.

After writing this, I put my phone in my pocket and walked toward the town entrance.

The old woman from the paper-offering shop was still sitting at her door.

The paper Zhou residence in front of her had already burned to ash, leaving only a blank paper door.

As I passed by, she looked up and asked, “Little Jiu, are we still making this door?”

I stopped in my tracks.

The wind blew through the alley, swirling the ashes around her feet like many nameless people whispering softly.

I said, “No more.”

The old woman nodded and tore the paper door in half.

The sun rose in the distance, and for the first time, there was no sound of gongs in Huailing Town.

But I knew this wasn’t over.

The Zhou Family’s gate wasn’t the only thing in the world that couldn’t be burned away.

And as for me, this haunted-house test sleeper, from this day on, I finally knew exactly who I was sleeping for.