Chapter One: Terror in the Screening Room

The corridor ahead stretched on endlessly in the darkness, as if it would never reach its end. A woman with long hair, dressed in a floor-length gown, her black, seaweed-like hair cascading over her shoulders, walked barefoot along the passage. Her steps were unsteady, her body trembling incessantly beneath the coarse woolen sweater she wore.

Suddenly, an invisible pressure surged from behind, making her footsteps even more frantic. She quickened her pace, shifting from a hurried walk to a barefoot run. The sound of her rapid breathing, the chaotic slap of her feet, and the pounding of her heart all tangled together, echoing through the dark corridor. These noises collided and intertwined, forming an intangible web that bound her tightly to her fear, making escape impossible.

Abruptly, everything fell silent—an unnatural, jarring quiet. In that instant, the woman sensed something amiss. Her cheeks twitched with nervous spasms, and it felt as though invisible hands gripped her shoulders in the darkness, forcibly halting her desperate flight and slowly turning her around.

Behind her, at some unknown moment, another figure had appeared, standing so close their noses nearly touched. This person had the same long hair, the same sweater, the same skirt—but her face was deathly pale, her eyes tightly shut, and the upward curve of her lips twisted into a sinister smile.

And then, in that moment, the shadowy figure suddenly opened her eyes, revealing gaping, hollow sockets as dark as black holes.

With a chilling note from a waterphone, the woman on the cinema screen let out a terrified scream. In the theater, the audience gasped in unison, their hearts racing.

In this modest-sized screening room, twenty or thirty young people watched the film intently, their nerves taut, emotions rising and falling with the plot. Occasionally, a sudden twist or jarring sound effect would startle them into nervous exclamations.

As the chorus of gasps rose and fell, the movie on the screen drew toward its conclusion. When the bright lights finally came up, the audience was released from the tense atmosphere, sighing with lingering excitement and discussing the story as they gathered their things to leave in small groups.

No one noticed the long-haired woman slumped in a corner seat of the last row. Her body was twisted into an unnatural posture, her pale face tilted to one side, utterly devoid of life.

—

The early spring chill lingered in the air as two plainclothes detectives hurried down the corridor of W City Public Security Bureau's Criminal Investigation Division on their way to a new case.

“I still don’t understand how you ended up volunteering to take on the new recruit for Captain Dong,” said a round-faced, medium-built officer, keeping pace with his colleague and unable to suppress his curiosity. “I heard you even insisted on training with him recently? That must’ve been exhausting. It’s really not like you at all!”

The speaker was Zhao Dabao, and the woman he addressed was his teammate, Ning Shuyi.

Ning Shuyi was the most distinctive among the team’s famed “Four Flowers.” Highly intelligent, with an eidetic memory and a voracious appetite for knowledge, she was like a walking encyclopedia, earning her the nickname “The Police Force’s Wang Yuyan.” This comparison wasn’t just about her theoretical prowess—when it came to anything physical, Ning Shuyi barely scraped by.

In every physical test, she just managed to pass: a 14:01 minute shuttle run when the cutoff was 14 minutes; 4:19 for 800 meters with a 4:20 passing mark; a standing vertical jump barely reaching 2.3 meters when 2.3 was the minimum. Her colleagues had long since grown used to it. If you needed brains, Ning Shuyi was your go-to choice. For anything requiring brute force, it was better not to count on her.

Recently, the team had gained a new transferee from the military—a sharpshooter named Huo Yan. He stood a solid six feet tall, his presence alone commanding the room. Skilled in long-range sniping, sought after by multiple departments upon his retirement from service, he was truly a hot commodity. Assigning a mentor for someone so capable was no easy task; pair him with someone too soft, and they’d be overshadowed. Pair him with someone equally formidable, and sparks might fly—two tigers in one mountain.

While Captain Dong was still deliberating, Ning Shuyi took the initiative and volunteered. Captain Dong considered that Huo Yan had unmatched field experience and top-tier physical skills, while Ning Shuyi offered a treasure trove of knowledge and sharp intellect. Their strengths complemented each other without overlap, so he agreed.

But the situation grew more absurd: Huo Yan didn’t simply accept the arrangement. He thought Ning Shuyi’s lack of physical fitness was a problem and suggested the pairing would only work if she improved her abilities.

Everyone on the team thought that Ning Shuyi, who normally treated physical training like a plague, would surely back out. Instead, she agreed without hesitation and gritted her teeth through four or five months of intense training, from late autumn until early spring.

Huo Yan himself quickly distinguished himself, having assisted in a rescue mission shortly after joining, where he shot a criminal and earned commendation. Afterward, he was busy with psychological counseling, police induction training, and, apart from supervising Ning Shuyi’s fitness, had little interaction with others. This assignment was his first time accompanying the team in the field.

People said Huo Yan was quiet and reserved, rarely speaking. And since he had challenged Captain Dong’s arrangements almost immediately upon arrival, no one was sure what to make of him. Zhao Dabao’s concern was understandable.

In response to his colleague’s doubts, Ning Shuyi sighed and glanced over. “Do I really need to spell it out for you? Just look at me, then look in the mirror, and you’ll see the answer.

When we deal with cooperative people, it’s fine. But think about all the times we’ve run into those tough, unreasonable types—people who refuse to cooperate and make our lives difficult. We waste time and get frustrated, yet there’s nothing we can do! If it’s a criminal, at least we can restrain them. But some of the most troublesome ones are victims’ relatives or other civilians! Soft approaches don’t work, and neither of us is intimidating enough for the hard approach. We’re powerless.

If we want to get things done efficiently, we need someone like Huo Yan—a real ‘Zhong Kui’—to keep those little devils in line!”

Zhao Dabao couldn’t help but grin at her words. He was resigned, but he had to admit she was right.

After months of training with Huo Yan, Ning Shuyi was a little darker and thinner than before, though she was still fair compared to most. Previously, she’d been pale as a porcelain doll, her cheeks still holding traces of baby fat, making her look like an innocent, sweet girl-next-door.

As for himself, as their colleague Luo Wei liked to joke, he had a kind face—like a slimmed-down clay figurine of Fortune Boy. His appearance was certainly approachable but inevitably lacked any real authority.

“So, Shuyi, level with me—what’s Huo Yan actually like? Is he easy to get along with?” Zhao Dabao pressed on. “He’s been here a while, but I barely see him—always in training. Is he difficult? A troublemaker?”

Ning Shuyi considered this without slowing her pace. “Let’s see… He keeps his distance, but he’s fair. Oh, and he’s very punctual. If you want things to go smoothly, be on time and keep things efficient. So we’d better hurry up now!”