The camera shifted away from Qiumei, moving toward the old woman carrying a grocery basket.
The last rays of the setting sun fell upon the elderly woman, lingering on her as she walked further and further away until the frame finally settled on the half of her shadow that remained.
Seeing this scene, Chen Ge found himself growing restless. He couldn't figure out how the director had filmed it. Deskmate had been shot a long time ago, back when special effects technology was still primitive, yet this scene in the film looked incredibly realistic.
"Could this really not be a filmed movie?"
Shadows held extraordinary significance for life — at least that was what Chen Ge believed.
"The female lead's left eye can see anomalies in living people's shadows. Wait — at the very beginning of the film, did the female lead's parents have shadows?"
Scenes from earlier in the movie flashed through his mind. In the shots, the female lead's parents, the doctor included, had all been without shadows. Though it could have been due to the overcast weather.
At the start of the film, the sky had been blanketed in heavy clouds without a sliver of sunlight — it was perfectly natural that no shadows were visible.
After Qiumei and the old woman left, the female lead returned home and took out her keys to unlock the door.
"Wen Yu? Why are you home so late today?" Wen Yu's mother hurried out from the kitchen, her expression carrying a hint of heartache along with a strange, indescribable emotion — the sort of feeling that wasn't quite normal for a parent. It was only now that Chen Ge had picked up on it.
The female lead didn't answer. The moment she stepped through the front door, she completely lost all vitality, as if even breathing felt uncomfortable.
Pushing open her bedroom door, the female lead rushed straight inside.
"This child…"
"I asked around, and our daughter might be ill." The female lead's father set down his newspaper and tapped his own head, lowering his voice. "I've already contacted a doctor. When the weekend comes, I'll bring him over to have a look at our daughter."
"How much is it going to cost?"
"Getting her treated is what matters right now. You don't want our daughter to stay unhappy forever, do you?"
Her parents' voices drifted in from beyond the door, but the female lead couldn't have cared less about what they were saying.
The camera, representing the female lead's gaze, shifted from her parents up to the ceiling, then the screen went dark as the female lead closed her eyes once more.
"This film seems to be recording something. But if everything is real, the timeline doesn't quite add up." Chen Ge nudged the blind man's shoulder. "What do you think?"
"I can't see. If you've finished watching, let's get out of here already. I don't want to stay another minute. Brother, listening to you talk, you don't sound like a bad person — just let me go, will you? Stop putting me through this."
The blind man's back was already soaked through. He had kept his eyes shut the whole time, but just listening to the sounds alone had terrified him enough.
"The movie is already past the halfway point. It'll be over soon — just hang in there a little longer." Chen Ge looked at the screen. The images had brightened considerably, and this segment was again recorded from the female lead's perspective, focusing on the small, everyday events between her and Qiumei.
The female lead was taciturn and rarely spoke. She said nothing whenever she could get away with it.
Qiumei's personality was the polar opposite — carefree and open, never letting anything get under her skin.
She was impulsive and acted without considering the consequences, but it was perhaps precisely that very quality that drew her and the female lead closer together.
Two people with such vastly different personalities had somehow become friends.
What surprised everyone around them even more was that both girls' grades kept improving — something even Teacher Cao hadn't expected.
He had originally just agreed out of social obligation, going through the motions. He never imagined that after the two worst-performing girls in the tutoring class were seated together as deskmates, they would produce such a remarkable "reaction."
The images grew brighter and brighter, and the overall filming style changed completely from before. Though it was a horror movie, it gave Chen Ge the feeling that he was watching an uplifting coming-of-age film.
"This director can handle a wide range of styles. Impressive."
Chen Ge estimated the film's progress — about four-fifths had passed. Apart from the ghosts he had spotted at the beginning, during that long stretch not a single ghost had appeared, nor even a mildly frightening scare.
"A horror movie without ghosts?"
On the market, horror movies invariably featured some kind of "unknown" presence. That unknown element created suspense for the audience and generated a sense of dread.
But this film seemed to be the exception. Shot entirely from the female lead's first-person perspective, she hadn't seen anything truly terrifying.
Chen Ge had a nagging feeling the director was saving the big reveal for last. He was certain this movie wasn't as simple as it appeared. As the film neared its end, he sensed that something truly horrifying was about to appear.
Qiumei and the female lead grew ever closer, though there was one curious detail worth noting: during the period in which Qiumei and the female lead became friends, Qiumei's laughter rang out repeatedly through the film, yet not once was the female lead's laughter ever heard.
The graduation exam was still a ways off, but with Qiumei's current grades, passing and graduating would be no problem at all.
She had found her best friend and was about to fulfill her promise to her grandmother. This should have been the happiest time of Qiumei's life.
But while Qiumei was happy, as an audience member, one could see through the female lead's eyes the unease lurking behind that happiness.
Qiumei's grandmother's shadow grew shorter and shorter. The worry on the female lead's parents' faces deepened. The cuts between shots became more frequent and rapid, as if the female lead were blinking her eyes over and over again.
Beneath the calm surface of daily life, a massive vortex lay hidden, dragging anyone who ventured too close down into the deep.
After the graduation exam ended, the class held a gathering. Qiumei and the female lead didn't get home until very late.
The night was exceptionally quiet. Qiumei hummed a pop song — her biggest wish these past months had been fulfilled, and she was in a wonderful mood.
"Deskmate, why aren't you saying anything? We can finally relax now — no more staring at Old Cao's face every day." Qiumei threw an arm around the female lead's shoulder, pressing close to her.