Chapter 57: The Phantom Appears!

As she fell to the ground, she let out a piercing scream.
“Be careful! Are you alright?” Qi Yan was forced to stop.

Xu Dan clutched the top of her foot, her face drenched in sweat from pain and the exertion of running. “Something tripped me— it hurts so much!”
Judging by her grimace, it was clear she wouldn’t be able to run anymore.

Qi Yan looked back helplessly. That haunting laughter still echoed behind them, but nothing had appeared in pursuit; yet he was certain it was close by.

Now they were in a real dilemma. Xu Dan massaged her foot, panting heavily. “You go on ahead. Find Dong Ye and bring him back. Don’t worry about me...”

She knew she wouldn’t be able to run again anytime soon. To linger here would only waste more time.

“Go on ahead? Are you crazy? Didn’t you hear that laughter coming from all directions? It’s nearby! Even if I find Yezi, what about you if I leave you here alone?”

Xu Dan waved her hand weakly. “The pain has dulled my fear a bit. Just go...”

Qi Yan closed his eyes in hesitation, then cursed under his breath. “God, why am I so soft-hearted? Did I owe you two in a past life or something? If we make it back alive, I’m not contributing to your wedding gift, you hear me!”

With that, he hoisted Xu Dan onto his back and, drawing a deep breath, continued to run forward as best he could.

Running alone would have been easier, but carrying a grown person made it much harder, slowing him considerably. Still, he couldn’t leave Xu Dan behind—she’d be done for. Even if it cost them time, at least this way was relatively safer.

The cement plant had six large workshops in a row; past those was a broad, empty stone yard, littered with abandoned trucks and scattered debris, wild grass sprouting here and there.

It might have seemed less foreboding in daylight, but in this pitch-black night without any lights, even if Dong Ye was nearby, finding him would be difficult.

Despite all the noise they’d made kicking the door earlier, there’d been no response.

Now, as they reached this yard, the laughter behind them abruptly ceased, but they were no closer to a solution.

“Whew—you’re not that tall, but you’re surprisingly heavy!”
“Is now really the time to complain about my weight?” Xu Dan laughed feebly, then glanced ahead and pointed up a slope. “Look over there.”

Qi Yan followed her gaze. Was that... a black hole?

No, it was a massive metal pipe, stretching from one of the workshops down to the ground—likely a large drainage or exhaust pipe.

“Do you think he might be hiding in there?” Xu Dan asked.

Just looking at the gaping darkness of the pipe made Qi Yan uneasy. “Let’s not do anything rash... Sure, you could fit in there, but it’s awfully narrow, and it must be pitch black inside!”

“But if you wanted to hide a person—or something else—wouldn’t a place like that be ideal?”

Qi Yan was about to say more when he noticed—the sky wasn’t as dark as before. It had taken on a deep blue hue.

Was dawn approaching already? It couldn’t be much past five...

He quickly realized: it was the “autumn tiger” season, and the sun rose earlier now. There was still a stretch before sunrise, but time was running out.

“To hell with it—whatever! Xu Dan, turn on your phone’s flashlight!” Without another second’s hesitation, Qi Yan hitched Xu Dan higher on his back and ran toward the pipe’s opening.

Xu Dan complied, holding her phone up over his shoulder to illuminate the way.

The pipe was indeed metal, but rusted through—touching it sent flakes crumbling down.

A grown person could just fit inside, but only if they hunched over. There was no standing water, just the heavy stench of rust and damp.

“Put me down; I can manage,” Xu Dan insisted. The entrance was wide enough, but still too cramped for two people side by side—they’d have to go single file.

Qi Yan took the phone, then led the way, with Xu Dan hobbling behind on her injured foot.

“Dong Ye, are you in there?!” he shouted as soon as they entered, his voice echoing down the long pipe.

Running was impossible in here; even moving forward meant staying hunched. But at least with the phone’s light, the way ahead was clear—just a long, straight pipe, its end lost in darkness.

They had barely gone ten meters when a rapid series of footsteps sounded behind them, making the metal pipe vibrate and hum.

“Hee hee hee, ha ha ha ha—!”

“It’s after us again!”

“I hear it—go ahead of me, hurry!” Qi Yan pulled Xu Dan to the front and nudged her forward.

Xu Dan was practically crawling, pain forgotten in her panic as she clung to the pipe’s wall, letting out terrified shrieks as she moved.

Their frantic movements set the whole pipe booming, rusty debris raining down on their heads, into their faces and collars. Even when grit got into their eyes and mouths, they could only grit their teeth and endure.

Qi Yan flashed the phone back down the pipe. In this narrow space, the light seemed to stretch on forever.

At the farthest edge of the beam, he saw a little girl in a red dress, skipping and dancing joyfully after them, laughing gleefully.

She didn’t float like a ghost—she ran, just like any ordinary child, both stubby legs carrying her, arms swinging, face aglow with delight. With her height, she could move freely in the pipe, and she was much more agile than Qi Yan and Xu Dan.

“Hee hee hee hee—!”

The laughter was clearer than ever, the pipe acting as a giant amplifier, magnifying it to a deafening pitch.

Luckily, Xu Dan was in front and couldn’t see the girl. If she had turned around, she’d surely have fainted from fright.

Now the little girl was like a mischievous monkey, pursuing them without a care in the world.

“The sun comes up, sew the eyes shut, sew the eyes shut—”

Qi Yan didn’t look back anymore, just cursed. “The sun’s not up yet!”

No one knew how far they’d crawled—no one was in the mood to keep count. The pipe was endless, its destination within the factory unknown.

Suddenly, Xu Dan fell again. This time, she hadn’t tripped—something soft in the darkness blocked her path. In her panic, with the flashlight wavering, she didn’t see it in time.

When she went down, she tripped Qi Yan as well.

“It’s a person! I think I found Dong Ye!” Xu Dan, sprawled on the ground, reached out and touched a solid, muscular body beneath her. She couldn’t see clearly, but she was certain it was Dong Ye.

But Dong Ye now—he lay motionless, corpse-like, unresponsive even with Xu Dan on top of him. Qi Yan tumbled down after her, and now the three of them were tangled together in the cramped, pitch-black pipe.

Qi Yan pushed Xu Dan’s head aside, shining the phone downward. Dong Ye’s filthy face came into view, confirming it was him.

But just then, the phone went dark—battery dead, it shut off automatically.

Total darkness swallowed them whole.

Xu Dan squirmed free, pressing her back to the pipe wall, utterly spent. Relief and terror warred within her—she’d found Dong Ye, but this suffocating blackness was unbearable.

At some point, the little girl’s laughter had stopped behind them. The only sounds now were their heavy breathing, and Dong Ye’s faint, shallow breaths.

“Qi Yan, why did you turn off the light?” The absolute darkness made Xu Dan’s heart pound with dread.

Qi Yan rolled off Dong Ye, fumbling in his pocket. “It wasn’t me. Your phone died... Don’t worry, I think mine’s got a few minutes left.”

He managed to turn on his own phone, its paltry eleven percent battery lighting up Xu Dan’s face.

And there, just half a foot in front of her, was a small doll-like face—straight black hair, neatly combed, a red strawberry hair clip pinned to the side.

Most chilling of all, the little girl’s face—her eyes were two round, four-holed buttons, her mouth stitched with red thread.

As the light flickered to life, the girl’s tiny mouth stretched wide, grotesquely so, almost to the ears—yet the red stitches still held her lips together...