3
Before, even though I had unconsciously followed Tiểu Nhiên’s reasoning, I’d still held on to the faint hope that “she was just making it up.”
But now, in this moment, I finally realized it wasn’t all in my head.
I really had encountered something science couldn’t explain.
Comments from viewers had begun flooding the screen of my phone.
They were mostly divided into two camps.
One camp was just like me, terrified out of their minds.
[Everyone watching the livestream just saw it—Nguyễn Nguyễn really did run down two floors.]
[This is a will-o’-the-wisp. She can’t leave this floor! Tiểu Nhiên was right!]
The other camp still couldn’t accept the explanation that ghosts were involved, so they began to suspect me instead.
[Nguyễn Nguyễn, is this you and a body double putting on a show together to get more viewers?]
[Yeah, I’m leaning toward this being staged by the streamer. This so-called will-o’-the-wisp is really just a “3” pasted on both floors—a pretty clumsy sleight of hand.]
[But this streamer’s acting is actually pretty good. Look at her little face, so pale with fear—she looks like a ghost, hahaha.]
Most of the people who commented after that were new viewers who had just joined the livestream. They didn’t know me, so they teased me without a second thought. Some even started cursing me out, saying I’d stop at nothing to get more viewers.
I ignored them all. Staring at my phone, I asked in a trembling voice, “Tiểu Nhiên, Tiểu Nhiên, are you still there?”
There was no response.
Tiểu Nhiên didn’t post another comment.
Despair grew inside me. I stood in the deserted, deathly quiet stairwell, calling out to heaven and earth in vain.
I couldn’t escape the dorm, but I didn’t want to go back to that strange room and face my roommate, who might be human—or might be a ghost.
Just then, footsteps suddenly sounded from downstairs.
One step, then another. High heels tapped slowly against the floor in a steady rhythm.
In the silence, the footsteps sounded like a drumbeat, strangely beautiful.
They came from below, drawing closer and closer as they climbed toward me.
I stood frozen in place, my legs locked as if encased in ice. I couldn’t even run.
A figure slowly emerged from the darkness.
Long black hair, a white dress.
I could only stare as the person came up to me.
“Nguyễn Nguyễn.”
The other person asked softly, “What are you doing here?”
I came to my senses and finally made out who it was in the dim light.
It was Ngô Lam.
“Lam…” I swallowed hard.
Of all my roommates, I was closest to Ngô Lam. We hadn’t known each other long, but we’d already become close friends.
When I first started school, a terrible upperclassman had swindled me out of a large sum of money. Lam had gone all the way to confront him and get it back for me. Then, when I developed acute appendicitis and needed surgery, Lam stayed by my side at the hospital.
“Lam, I texted and called you. Why didn’t you answer me?”
I grabbed Ngô Lam tightly.
She looked at me in surprise, seeing how agitated I was, and took out her phone. “I was on my way here. It was raining so hard outside that I couldn’t hear it ring—what’s wrong?”
I couldn’t speak. I felt both desperate and relieved.
Desperate because the final sacrifice had finally returned.
Relieved because, in this hopeless situation, I finally had someone by my side to lean on.
Fear had completely shut down my brain. I couldn’t reach Tiểu Nhiên, but Ngô Lam was smart and levelheaded. She could surely face all of this more calmly and rationally than I could.
Sure enough, after I recounted everything to Ngô Lam, she looked deeply shocked too, but quickly composed herself.
“When I came in through the stairwell door just now, everything seemed normal.” She thought for a moment. “Don’t panic. Let’s try again.”
So Ngô Lam and I went up and down the stairs several more times.
Before long, Ngô Lam’s face had gone pale too.
A moment ago, she’d asked if I was having a nightmare. But now, seeing that whether we went up or down, no matter how many floors we crossed, we always ended up back on the third floor, she finally began to believe that what I’d said was true.
Ngô Lam furrowed her brow and sank into thought.
Just then, WeChat chimed, and both my phone and Ngô Lam’s rang at the same time.
It was the dorm group chat.
It was a message from Tần Tiếu. She’d tagged Ngô Lam and me in the group and asked, “Why haven’t you two come back yet?”
It was just an ordinary sentence.
But it gave me goosebumps.
“What should we do now, Lam?” I whispered. “Should we jump out the window?”
Ngô Lam shook her head. “It won’t help. The windows have been welded shut.”
A chill ran down my spine as I remembered.
It seemed a student had jumped to her death the previous month. By the time we woke up and went to class, her body had already been taken away, as if nothing had ever happened.
But soon after, school staff came and welded shut every window from the second floor up.
“If this situation is real, then the tomb owner must have sealed off every way out months ago. Looking for a loophole is useless. We can only break through the trap head-on.”
Ngô Lam took my hand. “That girl Tiểu Nhiên said that if we found the tomb owner tonight, we’d still have hope, right?”
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here, Lam will protect you.”
Ngô Lam took my hand and led me toward the dorm.
With her by my side, even this deserted hallway seemed less frightening.
When we opened the door, the dorm room was dark.
The only light came from the small desk lamp on Tần Tiếu’s study desk. When she saw us return, she turned around, the dim light glinting off her glasses.
“You’re back,” she said softly.
Her voice in the darkness was especially frightening.
My hands and feet grew even colder as I heard Ngô Lam ask beside me, “Where’s Lệ Nhi?”
“Lệ Nhi’s asleep. Let’s keep our voices down.”
Tần Tiếu raised her index finger to her lips, signaling for us to be quiet.
I looked up and, sure enough, Mạnh Lệ Nhi’s bed curtains were drawn tightly shut.
“Lam, you’re back so late. It’s pouring rain—if you two hadn’t come back, I would’ve worried myself sick.”
Tần Tiếu said softly.
“Why are you both standing in the doorway? Come in. I just bought some ginger tea. Hurry and try it.”
Tần Tiếu often bought tasty snacks online and shared them with the others in the dorm. I’d always enjoyed them, but now, looking at the steaming cup of murky liquid, I felt inexplicably nauseated.
Ngô Lam glanced at me and gave a slight shake of her head.
I understood. She was telling me not to alert Tần Tiếu.
“I don’t know about you, but Nguyễn Nguyễn is trying to lose weight.”
Ngô Lam said in her usual voice as she walked over to Tần Tiếu. “Let me try some.”
Taking advantage of the moment, I lowered my head to look at my phone, searching through the flood of comments for Tiểu Nhiên.
Damn it, Tiểu Nhiên, get back here! You were so confident earlier, and now you’ve disappeared.
As if heaven had heard my prayer, a few seconds later Tiểu Nhiên finally appeared again.
“I just stepped out for a bit—so, can you get out?”
she messaged.
I was so furious I could spit blood. I picked up another phone, typed a message in the notes app, then held it up to the camera.
“You said we had to find the tomb owner. Then what?”
Tiểu Nhiên: “Don’t let the tomb owner touch you, and don’t eat anything the tomb owner gives you.”
My heart went cold. I jerked my head up.
“Lam…”
Ngô Lam had picked up the steaming cup of ginger tea.
The moment our eyes met, as if we shared a silent understanding, she deliberately loosened her grip, and the paper cup fell to the floor.
Ngô Lam hadn’t really intended to drink it anyway. She played along when I called her, using the opportunity to spill all the hot ginger tea.
“Sorry, sorry! I’ll go get the mop.”
Ngô Lam immediately grabbed the mop from the corner.
Tần Tiếu had her back to me, so I couldn’t make out her expression.
On my phone, Tiểu Nhiên kept posting comments.
“But these measures will only work temporarily. The tomb owner’s power will grow stronger around midnight. You’d better hide and not let the tomb owner find you.”
I was about to faint.
There were only so many places to hide in a women’s college dorm. Where could someone alive and kicking like me possibly go?
I was about to keep typing in the notes app when Tiểu Nhiên’s comment appeared on the screen again.
A line of blood-red text stood out sharply.
[Wait, look at the shoes of your roommate who just came back.]
The roommate who just came back? Did she mean Lam?
I turned around and looked down.
Lam was holding the mop and bending over to clean the floor. Feeling my gaze, she quietly looked at me. It was her familiar, reassuring look, telling me not to panic.
But it was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me, chilling me from head to toe.
Ngô Lam wore a pair of cloth shoes, their uppers and laces as white as snow.
Most important of all, the shoes were dry.
It was pouring outside, and she’d supposedly walked back from the study room, yet her shoes were dry.
She had lied to me.
She hadn’t come back from outside at all!