Chapter 8: Don’t Open the Door Recklessly

Entering the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind him, and switching on the exhaust fan, the noisy hum of the machine gradually soothed Yu Sheng’s restless heart.

It was as if the thin wooden door of the kitchen and the clamorous sound of the exhaust fan had momentarily sealed off a chaotic and bizarre world outside — at last, he had returned to a place entirely his own, a place where he could pretend, if only for a moment, that he was not trapped in that immense and uncanny "Border City," but back in the familiar, genuine sanctuary of his home.

Every corner of this large house differed from his original home, yet this small kitchen closely resembled the layout etched in his memory. So after settling somewhat in this strange world, he arranged the kitchen to mirror the familiar scene he once knew.

Each day, as he cooked here, he pretended he was still in his real home, that morning’s departure never happened, and he had not stepped into a city brimming with eerie shadows. Sometimes, while bustling about, he fancied that if he looked up, he would see through the window the old street bathed in the warm glow of a setting sun, the familiar neighborhood buildings basking in the amber light.

But the view outside invariably shattered these fleeting illusions. Now, through the window, there was only a barren patch of land and nearby low, dilapidated houses. No towering apartment blocks, but a tangle of messy utility poles instead. The warm, comforting sky of his memories had long since vanished.

In this city, the daylight was either glaringly bright or oppressively dim.

Yu Sheng sighed and pulled down the glass blinds, choosing not to focus on the perpetually shadowy dusk outside.

He picked and washed vegetables, heated the pan with cold oil, and after the fragrant sizzle of scallions, deftly tossed ingredients into the wok. As the crackling sound filled the kitchen, a noise from outside caught his attention — the television in this peculiar city, alongside cell phones and other media, remained one of his primary ways to gather information. In the early days, nearly all his understanding of this “Border City” came from watching TV and scrolling through news on his phone; even now, it remained a crucial link to this world.

"Yu Sheng! The TV volume’s too low! Turn it up, please!"

A sudden, lively voice from outside startled him, and he almost spilled the food from the pan.

He had nearly forgotten that Aileen was out there.

Before, when he cooked, nobody spoke outside!

“Hold on!” Yu Sheng snapped back loudly, then muttered to himself, "...She’s quite forward, isn’t she..."

But soon, a helpless smile tugged at his lips.

Well, it was fine — it added some “life” to this house, at least something to break the silence.

After a while, Yu Sheng carried the steaming dishes out, setting the bowls on the dining table. He turned up the TV volume two notches and then sat with his back to the screen, facing the portrait of Aileen — he didn’t usually watch TV while eating, but liked to have it on for background noise, which didn’t cause any conflict since Aileen could only watch from a fixed angle.

In the oil painting, Aileen clutched a teddy bear, craning her neck to glance at the food on the table, her eyes flickering between the program and the dishes as she muttered, “Looks pretty plentiful...”

“Just some home cooking,” Yu Sheng replied casually. “I quite enjoy cooking.”

“Oh,” Aileen responded, then obediently turned back to watch the TV. But as Yu Sheng began eating, she peeked again at the table, finally unable to hold back: “So it’s just you eating and me watching?”

Yu Sheng raised an eyelid and waved his chopsticks before her portrait: “Want a bite?”

Aileen widened her eyes but soon lowered her head, sulking to herself.

“...Alright, alright, just for show,” Yu Sheng sighed in resignation and went back to the kitchen to fetch an empty bowl. He scooped some food from his plate into it and placed it in front of the painting. “Here’s your plate and chopsticks — just pretend you’re smelling it. I’ll eat it anyway.”

Aileen frowned at the bowl in front of the portrait, considered it, then jumped down from her chair. Leaning close to the frame, her face filling nearly half the painting’s space, she looked at Yu Sheng seriously: “Alright, that’s fine — thanks. You’re actually quite thoughtful...”

Yu Sheng mumbled a vague response while taking a bite, then looked up to see Aileen’s head in the portrait — only her face visible. His gaze shifted to the bowl in front of the painting, and suddenly a strange feeling crept over him...

Aileen noticed nothing amiss, but found it odd that Yu Sheng had suddenly gone silent: “What’s got you spacing out?”

He hurriedly took another bite, then looked back at Aileen —

The dark, somber frame, the black background, the doll-like girl’s face, and the bowl of food placed before the painting.

It was as if she were truly there, smiling still, vivid and alive.jpg.

Yu Sheng’s facial muscles twitched involuntarily, but after a moment’s restraint, he dared not voice the thought that had sprung to mind — not because of anything else, but because Aileen’s curses were notoriously harsh.

With no other choice but to eat, he pretended nothing was wrong, burying his head in his meal amid Aileen’s puzzled gaze, deliberately avoiding looking at the vividly present figure opposite him...

The meal felt like a gathering at a wake.

Finally finishing, Yu Sheng wiped his mouth and hastily cleared all the dishes before Aileen’s portrait, tossing them into the kitchen sink to soak overnight. Washing dishes now was a burden on his aching back.

But while the dishes could wait, the trash could not be left overnight in the kitchen — the garbage bag had to go out. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he tidied the trash, grabbed the bag, and headed for the door.

Aileen, still watching TV, looked up curiously: “Hey, it’s so late, where are you going?”

“Do I have to report to you just because I’m at home?” Yu Sheng snapped the overly familiar doll inside the frame, but still lifted the trash bag for her to see. “I’m just taking out the garbage.”

“Oh, then be back soon,” Aileen’s eyes returned to the TV. “This big house scares me alone. What if a thief breaks in...”

Yu Sheng rolled his eyes, thinking: In this gloomy old house, if someone saw a ghostly figure swaying inside a painting, it wouldn’t be the portrait that got scared first. Judging by Aileen’s state, any intruder would probably call the police before doing anything else...

But he didn’t dare say that in front of her.

He shook his head, muttering under his breath, and reached the door. Changing into his outdoor shoes, he grasped the handle.

With a slight twist and push, the door opened.

For some reason, he suddenly recalled a morning two months ago — an ordinary day, indistinguishable from any other in his mundane life.

Back then, just like now, he had opened his front door, stepped outside, and found himself plunged into a colossal, suffocatingly strange city — one he had yet to escape.

A strange thought flashed through his mind. Yu Sheng shook his head wryly and stepped out.

The crisp snap of a broken twig shattered the valley’s silence. The cold night wind carried an unsettling stench of decay and blood. The chill made Yu Sheng shiver in his light clothes, and it took him several seconds to restart his suddenly halted mind.

He found himself standing amidst desolate rubble, with a dark and eerie forest looming in the distance. Towering mountains flanked him on both sides, like silent, grotesque giants looming over the valley floor, pressing down with unbearable weight.

Yu Sheng’s whole body stiffened in the cold night. Slowly, he turned to look back the way he had come.

A crumbling ruin appeared — it looked like a decrepit temple abandoned and collapsed centuries ago. A broken door — or rather, a crooked doorframe with a half-hanging plank — stood forlornly among the debris. The wind whistled hollowly through the cracks.

Yu Sheng stared wide-eyed: “What the hell have I gotten myself into...”

Gradually, he understood.

With the act of opening the door, the events of two months ago had repeated.

He had been cast into a strange place once again.

And this time, it was worse — unlike the vast, uncanny “Border City” from before, which, despite its oddities, was still a modern metropolis capable of sustaining life, this place was different.

He had been thrown into a wilderness.

Ahead was a dense forest, flanked by treacherous mountains, and behind him only that collapsed ancient temple — a place so forbidding that it seemed the terrain warranted spawning dozens of bandits or wolf demons and fox spirits.

And the only thing he held was a bag of kitchen trash he had just taken from home...

Yu Sheng thought for a moment and cursed under his breath in the harshest terms.

Then, just as these elegant curses were about to spill forth, an abrupt voice echoed in his mind —

“Yu Sheng! The TV signal’s gone! When are you coming back?”