Chapter 41: The Butterfly That Chases Light

Thump. Thump. The sound of metal heel spikes striking floor tiles.

Before she could even rejoice at finding her daughter, Feng Yu shu’s eyes fell upon a young man in a checkered long-sleeve shirt and work pants, his feet clad in sturdy hiking boots whose embedded anti-slip steel spikes struck the ground with a thump-thump rhythm.

Normal walking wouldn’t produce such a crisp, resonant clatter—but he was jumping.

Like a classic Hong Kong zombie, the workman kept his legs together, rigidly straight, hopping up the stairs one bound at a time, crossing the corridor, leaping toward Feng Yu shu’s location.

To Feng Yu shu, this absurd spectacle was utterly horrifying, sending a chill down her spine.

Because she had just seen this workman moments ago.

It was when she’d been slipping along the wall, carefully avoiding the fresh corpses strewn across the floor as she made her way to the stairs with Ning Zhe—each corpse bore a different death pose, expressions frozen in their final moments: some dazed, some confused, others utterly terrified.

Among them was an electrician, calmly inspecting a transformer and the wall wiring, his face serious, utterly focused, completely unaware of death approaching—until that intense, focused expression hardened like plaster cast onto his corpse.

Thump—

The workman jumped forward again, his arms hanging straight at his sides, pressed tightly against his hips, his entire body rigid as a spear driven into the ground.

His gaze remained fixed, the same serious expression still locked on his face as if he were still inspecting the wires at the moment of death.

Thump-thump—

The workman leapt two more steps, closing the distance in an instant—he now stood only two rooms away from Feng Yu shu.

The opulent crystal chandelier above the corridor scattered delicate, dazzling light onto the floor, stretching the man’s faint shadow long and thin; the icy threat of death flooded Feng Yu shu’s chest, tightening her nerves to their limit.

She hadn’t run because Ning Zhe and her daughter were still inside the room.

“Ning Zhe… the ghost… it’s coming up the stairs…” Feng Yu shu’s voice trembled, forcing down the fear in her throat.

Almost instantly, a soft girl’s voice came from inside the room—Bai Zhi’s voice:

“Turn off the lights.”

Feng Yu shu froze: “Ah Zhi?”

“Turn off the lights,” Ning Zhe’s voice echoed out too.

Feng Yu shu immediately understood—he meant the chandelier—but there was no time to find the switch; she frantically rummaged through her handbag, pulled out her iPad Mini, and hurled it straight upward at the crystal chandelier.

With a sharp crash of shattering crystal, the chandelier went dark, plunging Feng Yu shu’s vision into dimness.

The corridor’s chandeliers weren’t limited to just the one before her—others still glowed, and bright white light spilled from windows lining the hallway; the entire castle was brilliantly lit, except for the space directly in front of Feng Yu shu’s door.

Thump—

The workman’s feet slammed onto the floor; he stood perfectly still, his expression rigid as if scrutinizing something—or merely frozen in the posture of death.

Is the ghost motionless now?

Feng Yu shu stood before Bai Zhi’s door, tense, staring at the rigid corpse standing beneath the light, not daring to breathe. She felt her heart pounding like a wild horse struggling to burst from her throat.

At that moment, a black-and-white bird flew out the window—a magpie.

Ning Zhe leapt onto Feng Yu shu’s shoulder, observing the rigid corpse beneath the light alongside her, his thoughts swirling.

“After the lights went out, the ghost stopped moving,” Ning Zhe observed the surroundings, speaking softly: “More precisely, once you hid in the dark, the ghost stopped moving.”

Feng Yu shu looked around—indeed, the vast, brightly lit castle had almost no unlit corners, except the spot where she stood. It reminded her of Bai Zhi’s earlier words: “Within this ghost’s range, light means danger, darkness means safety. Hide in the dark, and the ghost won’t find or kill you.”

The ghost now matched Bai Zhi’s description perfectly—still standing rigid beneath the chandelier, its focused expression as if searching for something, yet never finding it.

Then, a sharp sound came from downstairs—like overturned furniture.

“Hmm?” Ning Zhe noticed that at the instant the noise sounded, the corpse’s eyes had flickered slightly.

It was looking at the floor—or rather, at the first-floor lobby beneath it.

The next moment, the workman’s corpse collapsed onto the ground.

His body no longer stood straight; he fell face-down, splattering vivid little bursts of blood, limbs splayed irregularly, just like every corpse Feng Yu shu had encountered on her way here.

“The ghost is gone,” Ning Zhe murmured: “It couldn’t find you hiding in the dark—maybe it turned to investigate whoever made the noise downstairs.”

Feng Yu shu exhaled deeply, her entire body suddenly going limp, her legs trembling with weakness.

“Ning Zhe… you saved me again…” Feng Yu shu pressed her hand to her chest, still shaken: “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“It was your daughter who saved you—not me,” Ning Zhe said dismissively: “Figure out how to open the door.”

Having confirmed the condition that “darkness = safety,” Ning Zhe relaxed slightly, spent some time, and with Bai Zhi’s help from inside, they pried open the blocked door.

As soon as the door opened, Feng Yu shu rushed forward, pulling the girl in her loose pajama dress into her arms, voice trembling with tears: “Thank goodness—you’re safe… thank goodness…”

Bai Zhi didn’t seem used to her mother’s embrace, but didn’t pull away; she tucked her stray strands behind her ears, revealing a pale, exhausted face, and looked at Ning Zhe standing nearby: “Who are you?”

“I’m Ning Zhe.”

Bai Zhi shook her head: “I know your name. I’m asking your identity—who are you? How do you know about the ghost? What’s your relationship with my mother?”

Ning Zhe spread his hands: “You could say I went into your dream with your mother.”

“Huh?” Bai Zhi froze.

“Let’s go inside—it’s dark in here,” Ning Zhe said, stepping past the mother and daughter into the room.

The three entered, closed the door, and Feng Yu shu briefly recounted to Bai Zhi how she’d wandered into He Family Village and escaped with Ning Zhe’s help; Ning Zhe listened silently. In the darkness, the girl’s expression was unseen, but her breathing grew heavier and more rapid as the story unfolded.

“So… it’s true…” Bai Zhi’s voice was stunned—Feng Yu shu’s experience had clearly shaken her deeply.

“You now know my origins, so now it’s my turn to ask,” Ning Zhe said, ignoring Bai Zhi’s emotional state: “When the ghost first appeared in the estate, I tried investigating its killing scenes—and I died. At the time, I was perched on a tree branch; even the nearest corpse was over ten meters away. But just now, your mother was less than ten meters from the ghost—closer than I ever was.”

“So why did I die instantly, without time to react at all—while she had time to freeze, stare, be warned, then scramble to turn off the chandelier?”

Ning Zhe’s voice was quiet, but each syllable was precisely enunciated: “Why didn’t the ghost kill your mother immediately?”

Bai Zhi fell silent for a moment, then answered:

“Because the ghost fears light.”

Ning Zhe was surprised: “Didn’t you say earlier that the ghost requires light to kill?”

Why now say it fears light?

(End of Chapter)