Not long after Huang Mao entered the courtyard, two children with blood-red opera masks peeked out from inside the wedding sedan chair.
Such a bizarre and terrifying sight — yet
The white paper lanterns hanging from the doorframe wobbled a few times before abruptly going out, plunging the old mansion into even deeper darkness.
White "double happiness" paper cutouts were plastered all over the walls. Huang Mao stood alone in the middle of the courtyard. "This place is way bigger than the ones we've been to before. There's definitely a ton of contraptions set up in here."
He was bold, but that didn't mean he was stupid. The atmosphere in the mansion was off, and he'd already picked up on that.
"Huang Xing…"
A faint voice drifted into his ear, someone calling his name. He couldn't make it out clearly — it seemed to be coming from the main hall.
"Are you calling me?" He held his breath and listened carefully, but the voice had vanished, as though it had never existed in the first place.
"Must be some kind of surround-sound setup. Who would've guessed they'd install such high-end equipment in such a dilapidated setting."
His heart was already in his throat. Huang Mao crept toward the main hall, carefully pushing the door open.
White mourning curtains hung inside the room. This was supposed to be a wedding celebration, yet it looked more like a funeral.
"A ghost marriage, huh. I've done similar scenes before — nothing new here."
"Huang Xing…"
Huang Mao was muttering to himself when that strange voice sounded again, louder this time.
"That voice — it sounds familiar!"
An odd feeling. The person calling his name had to be someone he knew from everyday life, yet he couldn't for the life of him remember who it was.
The rundown old mansion, paper funeral money scattered across the floor, white double-happiness cutouts on the walls — nothing in his surroundings had changed, yet the feeling Huang Mao got from it was different somehow. More sinister.
A gust of wind blew in from behind, sending a chill down the back of his neck. Huang Mao spun around. "Who's there?"
"What are you so jumpy about? It's me." Bai Qiulin strolled into the room with one hand in his pocket, looking around.
Relieved it was just another visitor, Huang Mao exhaled. "Did you just hear a woman talking?"
"Nope." Bai Qiulin examined the various decorations inside but stayed close to the door the entire time.
"I definitely heard someone calling my name." Huang Mao glanced toward the entrance — two children with blood-red masks were hopping and skipping past the front gate. "There's someone outside!"
Bai Qiulin looked toward the gate too, but the street beyond was completely empty. "Are you out of your mind? There's nobody there."
"Holy crap! There really is! Two kids, with some kind of stuff painted on their faces." Huang Mao tried his best to describe the children's appearance.
"You think a haunted house would hire kids that small to scare people? If they're not mannequins, then you're seeing things."
The moment Bai Qiulin looked away, two more children peeked out from behind the gate.
"I'm not imagining it!" This time Huang Mao locked eyes with the two children. He darted out the door. "Just give me a second — I'll drag them back here for you!"
Huang Mao sprinted to the gate, but the two children had vanished again. The street was deserted, littered only with scattered paper funeral money and that wedding sedan chair, gently swaying in the silence.
"Where'd they go? That's bizarre — I was only out here for a few seconds. Where could they have run off to?"
"Huang Xing…"
Huang Mao shuddered. The woman's voice was in his ear once more. "Why does the voice get closer when I go outside? It's like she's whispering right next to my ear."
He pulled out his phone for light, hoping to find a hidden speaker. But the instant he switched on the flashlight, the woman's voice came again.