Third basement level. Damp and frigid. The male streamer Huang Hu held up his phone and began exploring the haunted house.
"No need for me to introduce this haunted house any further. Search online and you'll find countless rumors — some true, some fake — about the place."
"Every scene in here has spawned its own urban legend. There's the doll that will forever follow behind you, the student mannequin that could appear at any time and in any place, and the ballpoint pen that causes accidents the moment you ask it about romance."
"There are plenty of urban legends, and I'm sure you're all curious — which ones are real and which ones are made up? Today, right here in this haunted house, I'm going to reveal the answers for you myself."
He pulled a sheet of white paper and a ballpoint pen from his black backpack and ducked into a patient room nearby. "The legend about the pen spirit was the first to cause a stir online. Apparently, a remarkable man named Fei Youliang once moved the pen spirit with the sincerity of his heart. He was the first person to truly encounter the pen spirit inside the haunted house — and also the first person to be sent straight to the hospital after the visit. A great many tourists witnessed it. All of it was real."
After a glance at the bullet comments scrolling across his screen, Huang Hu placed the pen and paper on the hospital bed. His expression turned grave. "Now I'm going to attempt this game myself. You heard me right — I'm going to livestream a pen spirit summoning right here in this haunted house full of urban legends!"
The atmosphere was sufficiently set. Huang Hu propped his phone against the pillow, knelt beside the bed, and picked up the ballpoint pen he'd brought with him.
"Folks, I'm starting now. Don't blink for the next few seconds, because even I don't know what's going to happen."
His tone was solemn as he carefully balanced the ballpoint pen upright on the white paper.
Beneath the haunted house. A dim, silent patient room. All around, dead quiet.
In this environment, Huang Hu stared intently at the tip of the pen.
One second. Two seconds. On the third second, his ring finger — hidden in his palm — gave the barrel of the pen the faintest nudge. The ballpoint pen standing on the paper shifted almost imperceptibly.
"It's here!"
His face flooded with shock, expression changing dramatically. He glanced at his phone screen and held a finger to his lips toward the camera in a shushing gesture.
Without moving, he waited another minute at the bedside before slowly standing up.
He held the sheet of white paper in front of the lens and pointed at the slanted ink mark on it. "You all saw that — after I started the game, the ballpoint pen really did move on its own! The pen spirit must have actually appeared! As for why she didn't come over, I'm guessing she was probably scared off by this ancestral jade pendant I wear around my neck."
He aimed the camera back at himself and said with lingering unease, "I know you probably still don't believe me — this mark doesn't prove much on its own. But next, I'm going to use the Chuma Immortal method to determine whether this haunted house truly harbors any yin evil."
Huang Hu walked out of the patient room, phone in hand. "This corridor is incredibly eerie. Probably because it's built underground — walking through it makes your whole body break into a cold sweat."
He swiveled the camera to point behind him. "The doll and the student mannequin haven't shown up, but I've discovered something else that's truly terrifying."
He pointed at the doors lining both sides of the corridor. "When I went into that room just now, a lot of these doors were only half-open. But look now — a whole bunch of them have been swung wide open! It's like something just ran out of them!"
Bullet comments streaked across the screen. Some viewers had caught the anomalies and were busy speculating. Others, of course, were questioning whether the whole thing was staged by Huang Hu himself.
"I know a lot of you don't believe me. So I'm going to use a method passed down through my ancestors to prove it to you. My great-grandfather specifically warned our family not to attempt this lightly, but today I'm making an exception for all of you." Huang Hu wasn't actually that scared — he and Li Xu had rehearsed the script long ago. He figured the doors had all been opened by Li Xu.
"This verification method is called opening the Yin Gate. Some also call it feeding the Yin Rice." Huang Hu reached into his pants pocket and produced a small black bag. Inside was a damp, dark cloth. He unfolded it to reveal a handful of white rice. "You scatter a pinch of Yin Rice at a fork in the path, then walk past each room door in sequence. When you reach the fourth room, scatter a handful of rice at the doorway, then push the door open, step inside, and stomp your feet four times."
"After that, scatter a few more grains of rice inside the room, then walk back out. If the pattern of rice grains outside the door has changed from before, you go back inside and repeat the whole process four times. If the surroundings aren't clean — if something unclean is present — then on the final time you enter the room, you'll see a 'stranger.' Because that time, you won't be entering your own home. You'll have wandered through the Yin Gate with 'them' as your escorts."
"This is my ancestors' method for inspecting yin dwellings. I hope you won't try it lightly, lest something actually follows you back home."
Huang Hu finished speaking, walked to the stairwell corner, pinched a few grains of rice, and scattered them at the base of the stairs. Strangely enough, after he walked away, the rice grains on the ground had noticeably decreased.
"Now we officially begin." Huang Hu took a deep breath, his expression somber, as though he were undertaking something extremely dangerous.
He scattered a few grains of rice outside the fourth patient room from the left, then opened the door and stepped inside.
He swiveled the phone camera, filming every object in the room. "Everyone, remember where everything is placed. Things might move on their own in a little while."
After scanning through a stream of bullet comments, Huang Hu secured the phone on the hospital bed. From this angle, the door was perfectly in frame.
"Fair warning — a stranger might walk in soon." With that, he opened the door and stepped out, scattered a few more grains of rice, walked out of the room, and closed the door behind him.
Out of the camera's view, Huang Hu took out a second phone and hit speed dial. After two rings, he hung up directly — this was the prearranged signal between him and Li Xu.
He glanced over toward where Li Xu was hiding. The other man didn't respond.
"Where is he? Still putting on makeup?" Huang Hu didn't dare vanish from the livestream for too long. After lingering for a few seconds, he pushed the door open again. With a tense expression, he spoke to the phone that was broadcasting live. "I think I just heard footsteps! Coming from the stairwell! Something is approaching — it's getting closer and closer to me."
After saying this, Huang Hu scattered more rice and walked out of the patient room once more.
He looked down the corridor. Dead silence. Like a vast black ocean.
He dialed Li Xu's phone again. It rang three or four times. Still no answer. "This guy picks the worst possible moment to flake on me?"
"Phone won't connect. What the hell is he doing?" A wave of irritation washed over him. The back of his neck also began to itch inexplicably. He scratched at it furiously. "Why does it feel like someone is sitting on my neck?"