Chapter 3: The Locked Room

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His mind swam drowsily, as if a heavy veil had been drawn over his vision. The distant sound of traffic from the main road wavered, drifting nearer and farther, unreal, like a dream.

He wandered on in this uncomfortable haze for an unknown stretch until his thoughts slowly regained some clarity. Hesitantly, Yu Sheng stopped and glanced back along the path he had taken.

The sky had almost fully darkened; the streetlights had long since come on. He was walking along a narrow street near his home, flanked by low, dilapidated apartment buildings that loomed like crouching beasts in the night. Yet the makeshift shops on the ground floors, transformed by residents, emitted a warm glow that dispelled the cold gnawing at his heart.

Cold?

Suddenly, Yu Sheng felt that piercing chill again, one that seemed to pierce his lungs and marrow like icy needles, as if shards of freezing rain were falling on his skin. He sensed two cold, slippery gazes—those of a frog staring intently at him.

He gasped sharply, struggling for breath. After several moments, he remembered how to breathe again, panting heavily as he quickly looked down at his chest.

For a fleeting instant, he felt an illusion: that a gaping hole remained in his chest, that his heart was gone, his torso like a cold, extinguished furnace. But the next moment, he felt his heartbeat return, even heard a distinct “thump” echo in his ears... Yes, the living have a heartbeat.

He was still alive, not eaten alive by a monstrous frog.

Yet the flood of memories crashed through his mind like a tsunami, relentless and vivid. No matter how much he tried to ignore them, they refused to be pushed aside. He recalled the rain, the painted door on the wall, and that enormous frog... He tried telling himself it was all a hallucination, but the thought weakened as the memories replayed and sharpened.

He had died once, but for some unknown reason, he was alive now, walking home—just two intersections away.

This was the strangest, most uncanny thing he had encountered since arriving in this eerie city.

Nearby, he sensed eyes on him. Yu Sheng noticed that his odd behavior had attracted attention; someone hesitated nearby, perhaps wanting to ask if he needed help. He quickly waved them off, avoiding conversation, and hastened away.

He did not understand what was happening to him, but stopping to ponder on the street would do no good.

He hurried down a small lane, leaving the old neighborhood behind, heading toward his “home” in this city.

Though only two intersections away, the surroundings grew increasingly desolate and cold, as if entering a forgotten corner of the city. Pedestrians thinned until only the cold, lonely streetlights accompanied him. After a while, he saw an old house standing against the night, seemingly detached from the surrounding buildings.

It was an unremarkable three-story house, its walls peeling, slanted roof, old but intact doors and windows—typical of those self-built “mini-mansions” erected decades ago in the village within the city when regulations were lax. Over time, it had become a relic exploiting loopholes in urban management.

Yu Sheng knew little about the city’s building codes, having only arrived two months ago. Discounting the cautious days he spent shut indoors at first, he was only just adapting and familiarizing himself with the area. But one thing he knew clearly:

This house was his only relatively safe refuge in this dangerous, discordant city—at least inside these walls, he had never seen those sinister shadows.

Though the house itself held many strange features in his eyes.

Yu Sheng drew a slow breath, clutching the shopping bag still in his hand, and stepped through the cold pool of streetlight to the door, fishing out his keys.

The old door creaked open. He entered and switched on the lights—though it bore little resemblance to the “home” in his memories, when the light brightened, he felt a tangible sense of... grounding.

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He turned and closed the door, shutting the city’s night outside.

He tossed the groceries onto the shelf by the kitchen door to his right, then hurried across the slightly empty living room to the bathroom mirror. Pulling open his shirt, he examined his chest.

The memories were so vivid and profound that he had to confirm repeatedly.

No wounds, no blood—just as if “death” had never occurred.

Frowning, he checked his shirt’s integrity and pressed the spot where the frog had supposedly ripped out his heart and lungs. Only then did he truly confirm he was very much whole.

“This is messed up...” he muttered softly and left the bathroom, returning to the living room.

Behind him, the mirror above the sink silently cracked, fissures spiderwebbing across its surface before quickly and quietly sealing themselves.

Sitting on the sofa, Yu Sheng tried to sort his tangled thoughts. Time passed, and his exhausted mind finally drifted into a foggy calm.

Sleep enveloped him.

The haze lingered long until a sudden “thud” exploded in his head, like a shovel striking stone, jolting him awake.

He opened his eyes in the dark and blinked, realizing the living room light had gone out without him noticing.

He distinctly remembered leaving it on before sleep!

Alarm surged through him. Instinctively, his hand reached for the collapsible baton beside him. Since arriving in this strange, eerie city, the first thing he had done was equip himself with this self-defense tool. Although it hadn’t been needed yet, holding the baton gave him some psychological comfort as a fearful upright ape.

Cautiously, he rose, alert to every sound in the darkness.

In such a desolate, remote place, a break-in was not unimaginable. In fact, right now Yu Sheng wished it were a burglar—at least one he could knock out with his baton. A giant frog over a meter tall, however, was another matter entirely.

Yet the living room remained silent. No sign of intrusion, no sound of an intruder.

The good news: no sound of the frog either.

Guided by the faint streetlight filtering through the window, Yu Sheng crouched and edged his way to the light switch, flicking it on.

His eyes flashed brightly as they swept the room in the now illuminated space.

He blinked, sensing something strange in his vision but couldn’t pinpoint what was off. Regardless, the room was now clear, and he could see the living room fully.

He hunched slightly, baton in hand, and began inspecting every corner of the house.

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The first floor contained only the living room, kitchen, dining area, and an unused empty room—everything was normal.

He hesitated at the staircase and then ascended.

Upstairs were three rooms: his bedroom, a storage room, and a locked room at the end of the hall.

The locked room had been locked since he arrived. Despite searching the entire house, he never found its key.

He checked his bedroom and the storage room, then approached the locked door once again.

As always, it was tightly shut.

In fact, Yu Sheng had tried various technical means to open it—impact drills, handheld saws—but all attempts failed. Sparks flew wildly against the seemingly fragile wooden door, but the drill bits and saw teeth wore down without leaving a mark.

He even sought higher-end solutions, hiring locksmiths—three in total. The first two got lost in the old town, wandering around unable to find 66 Wutong Road. The third was hit by a motorcycle just after crossing the street and had just been discharged from the hospital last week.

It was as if some mysterious force was preventing Yu Sheng from opening this locked room in his own home.

Yes, although this house was his only relatively safe refuge in the city, it too held many... “off” aspects.

Yu Sheng grasped the doorknob and tried to turn it, but it didn’t budge.

No unexpected “accidents” occurred—it remained locked.

But perhaps it was his imagination, as he futilely twisted the handle... he thought he heard a faint, soft laugh.

The laughter came from the other side of the door, a young female voice mocking his helplessness before a mere door.

Yu Sheng’s hairs stood on end.

In this city, this house was his only safe haven, where he had lived for two months. Behind this perpetually locked door... someone was hiding!

...How had she not starved to death?