He placed Little Cute on the table. This somewhat mischievous doll, which spent every day scheming to slip onto the floor and sneak out, suddenly became well-behaved.
The white cat lay on the chair, gazing at the four kittens in the basket. It seemed indifferent to everything else.
"Since we've decided to take it in, I can't just keep calling it 'white cat' forever. I need to give it a name." This was the first time Chen Ge had ever kept an animal. After racking his brains, he sat on the floor, eye-level with the white cat on the chair. "We met during a heavy rain at nine in the night — how about I call you Night Rain?"
The white cat didn't move, radiating an air of faint disdain.
"You don't like the poetic vibe? Fine, let's change it then. How about Year Year? 'Year after year, there will be fish' — what a great meaning." The white cat on the chair turned its head away, as if it didn't want to look at Chen Ge.
"Still not a fan? Snow white all over without a single blemish — how about Snow White? Sticky Rice? Milk..."
Perhaps Chen Ge had gotten too close and the white cat felt threatened. It bared its fangs, its whiskers bristling, and the recently healed wound on its face began to seep blood again.
"This cat is way too fierce, isn't it?"
Other people's cats were all about acting cute and cuddly. When it came to his, the whole style took a sharp turn.
Chen Ge looked at the gruesome, blood-oozing wound on the white cat's face and scooted backward. This was no house cat — it was basically a little tiger that had never been tamed.
"Not cat-like at all. Pure white with no markings — why don't I just call you
Its ears perked straight up. It jumped off the chair and began frantically clawing at the door to the staff break room.
"What's going on?" The white cat's reaction was highly abnormal. It looked desperate to get out. Sensing something was wrong, Chen Ge hurriedly opened the break room door. "It wasn't even this agitated when we went to the Muyang Middle School scene earlier. This cat must have sensed something!"
Once out of the break room, the white cat bolted straight for the first-floor bathroom. Its sharp claws left deep scratch marks across the door panel.
"The first-floor bathroom?" Chen Ge's heart skipped a beat. He pulled out his phone and checked the time — it was exactly midnight!
"The door in the mirror is acting up?!"
He immediately yanked open the bathroom door and pulled the black cloth off the mirror.
In the mirror's reflection, the blood-red door had appeared right on schedule. But it was different from the previous times.
Thick, vivid blood was seeping through the door's seams. The stall door inside the mirror trembled every few seconds, as if someone on the other side was repeatedly pushing against it!
Chen Ge didn't dare act rashly. He looked toward the stall door in reality.
The real stall door and the one in the mirror were shaking in unison. Every time midnight struck, this ordinary bathroom stall door became the nexus connecting two worlds.
"There's someone behind the door!" Chen Ge tensed up. He grabbed the mop beside him and fixed his gaze on the trembling lock on the stall. He was grateful that he had locked the stall last time — otherwise, whatever was inside it might already have entered the haunted house.
The impacts grew more violent. The only thing Chen Ge could do now was wait it out, endure this one final minute.
He had no desire to provoke whatever lay behind the door, nor was he curious about what it truly was. All he wanted was to run his haunted house in peace.
The lock rattled violently — it wouldn't hold much longer. Gripping the mop, Chen Ge stood at the ready.