Yu Xiao, lost in thought, finally moved the heavy cabinet in the room. Zhou Xiao Zhen leaned in close, her eyes widening as she saw a familiar message scrawled on the wall behind it: 【Our guess was correct.】


    “Smiley, did you write this?” Zhou Xiao Zhen asked, her fingers tracing the words. “When?”


    Yu Xiao shook her head, a chill running down her spine. One thing was certain now: she would be back in this room.


    With a grunt, she pushed the cabinet back into place.


    “Let’s go back,” she said, her voice tight.


    Only ghosts could move freely in the mirror world, and humans caught in their snare were at their mercy. Yu Xiao, gripping the struggling Mirror Ghost in one hand and Zhou Xiao Zhen in the other, plunged back into the bathroom mirror.


    Zhao Lan, her face etched with worry, watched in astonishment as Zhou Xiao Zhen suddenly tumbled out of the mirror with a yelp, landing with a painful thud on the edge of the sink.


    “Ouch!” Zhou Xiao Zhen yelped, rubbing her bruised backside.


    “Precious, what happened?” Zhao Lan exclaimed, relief flooding her features.


    “Misty, a ghost pulled me into the mirror!” Zhou Xiao Zhen explained, gingerly getting to her feet and rubbing her sore bottom as she walked towards the bedroom. A moment later, Yu Xiao emerged, dragging the reluctant Mirror Ghost behind her.


    The Mirror Ghost (糖葫芦), a master of disguise, could mimic anyone or anything reflected in its surface. As Yu Xiao pulled it free, she felt a sudden lightness in her hand.


    “Clang!”


    A small, round object clattered to the floor. Yu Xiao picked it up, finding a simple, palm-sized mirror, the kind many women carried in their handbags.


    One side was a reflective surface, the other white, decorated with a whimsical figure holding a stick of candied hawthorns, accompanied by a cheeky slogan: “何以解忧, 唯有暴 How to Relieve Worries? Only by Getting Rich.”


    (This is a modern humorous phrase that reflects a common sentiment among young people in China, emphasising the idea that wealth is the solution to problems. It’s often seen on merchandise and social media.)(A traditional Chinese snack consisting of candied fruits skewered on a stick, usually hawthorn berries. It’s a nostalgic treat often associated with childhood.)


    The back of the mirror wasn’t just dusty and forgotten, it sported a suspicious crimson stain that looked suspiciously like, well, dried blood.


    “So, this is the mirror ghost, huh?” Zhou Xiao Zhen asked, gingerly tapping the small mirror. It was her first encounter with a ghost taking the form of an object.


    “Come in,” Zhao Lan said, her usual composure returning with Zhou Xiao Zhen’s safe arrival. She ushered Yu Xiao into the bedroom and closed the door.


    The click of the lock jolted Yu Xiao’s memory. She’d forgotten something – her promise to the burly guy in the living room. She spun around, frustration tightening her brow. The door was shut, and finding that man again in this ever-shifting apartment felt like an impossible task.


    “Hey, Misty, we made a huge discovery!” Zhou Xiao Zhen exclaimed, grabbing Zhao Lan’s hand. “Do you know where we just went?”


    “Inside the mirror, duh.”


    “More than that!” Zhou Xiao Zhen’s eyes sparkled. “Do you know where the mirror leads?”


    Zhao Lan shook her head, glancing at Yu Xiao.


    “It connects to other parts of this apartment – other rooms with mirrors,” Yu Xiao explained, her throat suddenly dry. She wished she’d taken a moment to drink some water back in the bathroom.


    “What do you mean?” Ye Tao leaned forward, intrigued. “Other parts of the apartment?”


    Yu Xiao flopped onto the bed, gesturing around the room. “We’re in a bedroom now, but a apartment is more than just a bedroom. There’s a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom… even though every time we open a door, we only see one room, the other parts of the apartment still exist.”


    Understanding dawned on Zhao Lan’s face. “So, you’re saying… you two were in other parts of the apartment?”


    “Exactly,” Yu Xiao confirmed. “The layout of this apartment has been twisted by the instance, separated in ways we don’t understand, but the mirrors are like doorways between them.” She paused, a thought striking her. “How many different styles of décor have we seen in all the rooms we’ve been in so far?”


    “对” (Duì): Often used to affirm something, equivalent to “Yes” or “Indeed”.


    Ye Tao furrowed her brow. “What does the décor have to do with anything?”


    Yu Xiao glanced towards the door and explained, “Think about the bathroom we just saw. It was super modern and all high-tech, right? The other rooms I peeked into through the mirrors had the same, similar style, similar condition.”


    Zhao Lan’s eyes widened in understanding. “So, the bathroom and the rooms you saw are all part of the same apartment. And this vintage-style bedroom we’re in now… it’s a different apartment altogether?”


    Yu Xiao nodded. “Exactly. Remember how many apartments we’ve seen so far?”


    Zhao Lan counted on her fingers. “There’s the modern one, this vintage one, the rundown place where Teng Jing Zhi is, and that other one with the kind of normal, twenty-year-old décor. That’s four, but who knows if there are more hidden away.”


    Zhou Xiao Zhen frowned. “But why chop these apartments into pieces like this? It doesn’t make sense.”


    “Probably to make things harder for us,” Ye Tao suggested grimly.


    “Bloody hell,” Zhou Xiao Zhen muttered under her breath.


    However, Yu Xiao was fixated on something else – the burly man she had encountered in the living room earlier.


    Hesitation flickered across her face. “I, uh, need to go back.”


    “Back where?” Zhou Xiao Zhen asked, confused.


    “What are we going back for?” Zhao Lan added.


    Yu Xiao recounted her unsettling encounter with the man.


    Ye Tao shook her head. “Finding that apartment again is easy enough, but we can’t control who or what will be there when we arrive.”


    Yu Xiao understood the risk, but the need to see for herself outweighed her fear. What if the man was gone? But what if he was still waiting?


    “I gotta try,” she said resolutely. “I’ll open the door.”


    The four of them huddled around the doorway. Yu Xiao opened the door again and again, each time revealing a different part of the four apartments they had already seen. Just as they were about to give up, on the twenty-something attempt, a flash of modern kitchen appliances caught their eye.


    “This must be part of the modern apartment,” Zhao Lan said, peering into the kitchen. “Same style, same level of wear as the bathroom. Though, missing a key ingredient – the mirror.”


    Zhou Xiao Zhen piped up, “Can’t we just bring a mirror in? There’s one in the bedroom.”


    Yu Xiao’s face lit up. “Precious, you’re a genius!”


    Zhou Xiao Zhen, beaming at the praise, fetched the ornate dressing table mirror from the bedroom and placed it in the stark modern kitchen. The clash of styles was jarring, but it just might work.


    Yu Xiao’s ghost card was still active. Holding a small hand mirror, she turned to the others. “Wait for me,” she said, and with a final glance, slipped into the mirrored world.


    The hand mirror transformed into a frying pan as she crossed the threshold. Now armed with a rather unconventional weapon, Yu Xiao began her search for the living room mirror.


    But before she found it, a heart-wrenching sound stopped her in her tracks. Peering through the mirror, she spotted a man slumped on the floor, cradling an unmoving figure in his arms, tears streaming down his face.


    “Hey!” Yu Xiao called out, her voice echoing strangely in the mirrored space.


    The man’s head shot up, his eyes darting around in alarm.


    “I’m in the mirror,” Yu Xiao explained.


    The man gently laid down the figure he was holding and stood up, approaching the mirror with hesitant steps. When he saw a ghost girl reflected there, his hands clenched into fists.


    Yu Xiao spoke quickly, “Don’t attack! I’m human. I used a Ghost Transformation Card to get in here.”


    The man’s frown deepened. “Prove it.”


    “Fair enough,” Yu Xiao conceded. “Just scoot over a bit. I need to come out.”


    She squeezed through the mirror, blinking away the distortion. With a flourish, she presented her phone. “Exhibit A: My undeniable connection to the living world.”


    “Phones, huh? Ghosts can have phones too,” the man retorted coldly, then added, his voice tinged with suspicion, “You’re from the Fifth or Sixth Hospital, aren’t you?”


    Yu Xiao was startled. “How’d you guess?”


    The man gestured to her phone. “That model. Only people from the Fifth or Sixth Hospital have it.”


    Yu Xiao wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and nodded. “You’re right. I’m from the Sixth. My name is Yu Xiao.”


    The man’s expression remained guarded, but he nodded in acknowledgement. “Call me Ah Dong (阿东). I’m from the Second Hospital.”


    阿 (ā or Ah) is a common prefix in Chinese names and is often used as a term of endearment or familiarity. It doesn’t have a specific meaning by itself and is used to soften the sound of the name that follows.东 (Dōng) means “east” or can refer to someone who is as vital as the direction that symbolizes new beginnings and opportunities.


    This was the first time Yu Xiao had encountered someone from the Second. Her gaze drifted towards the still figure lying on the floor, the unmistakable presence of death hanging heavy in the air.


    “Who is he?” she asked softly.


    “My friend,” Ah Dong choked out, a fresh wave of tears tracing tracks down his grime-streaked cheeks. “And I… I caused his death.”


    “What happened?” Yu Xiao asked gently, her curiosity battling with her sympathy.


    As they talked, Yu Xiao learned that Ah Dong and his friend had entered the Time Hospital almost a day ago. This was the very first space they’d encountered. The attending doctor had advised them to enter the rooms alone, but Ah Dong, distrustful of the doctor’s motives, had insisted they stick together. So they entered as a pair. It wasn’t long before they made a fatal mistake – opening a wardrobe that unleashed a terrifying ghost.


    They were both strong, but this ghost was different. It was eerie, insidious, capable of burrowing into a person’s very heart.


    “Xiao Long (小龙: Little Dragon) was caught off guard,” Ah Dong said, his voice steady now, though tears still streamed down his face. “The ghost got into his heart. I killed the ghost, but… but Xiao Long died too. It was my fault. If we’d listened to the doctor, he might still be alive. Only one person should go through each door…”


    小 (Xiǎo): This character means “small” or “little.” It is often used as a prefix or nickname in names. In this case, it suggests a sense of youthfulness or diminutiveness.龙 (Lóng): This character means “dragon.” The dragon is a powerful and auspicious creature in Chinese culture, associated with strength, vitality, and good fortune.


    Ah Dong looked to be around thirty, though it was hard to tell for sure. His hair was cropped short, his build solid, but his skin had a lifeless pallor. Dressed in a simple black T-shirt, he looked like a man whose spirit had been crushed.


    “You’re wrong,” Yu Xiao interrupted gently. “The three of us entered this place together, and none of us died.”


    Ah Dong looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. “How did you get in? Where were you before?”


    Yu Xiao explained about the mirror ghost, and how she’d been using the mirrors to move between the different spaces.


    “I have some ideas about how we can get out of here,” she finished, her voice firm. “Do you trust me?”


    Ah Dong studied her for a long moment, then asked abruptly, “Are you a descendant of the Dragon?”


    “!!!” Yu Xiao’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?!”


    “A guess,” Ah Dong said with a shrug. “The Sixth Hospital is full of newcomers. Not many are as capable as you.”


    Yu Xiao felt a blush creep up her cheeks. Ah Dong was holding Xiao Long’s body a little tighter now, his gaze fixed on his friend’s face.


    Yu Xiao stared at the corpse, a sudden thought striking her. “Was that… Did I just see him move?”


    Ah Dong shook his head. “You’ll learn, after you’ve been in this hospital long enough. Some people… they come back in a different form after death.”


    “Is he turning into a ghost?” Yu Xiao asked, a shiver running down her spine. “Have you been heavily corrupted by yin energy?”


    Ah Dong stared at her blankly. “What are you talking about?”


    “Corrupted by yin energy,” Yu Xiao repeated, frowning. “Don’t you know about that?”


    At Yu Xiao’s words, a look of understanding dawned on Ah Dong’s face, as if pieces of a puzzle were falling into place. “You mean the erosion caused by yin energy? I always thought it was a side effect of using too many physical enhancement cards.”


    “Do physical enhancement cards really have side effects?” Yu Xiao asked, surprised.


    Ah Dong didn’t answer directly. Instead, he countered with another question. “What do you think changes a person’s body when they use those cards? Strength increases, sure, but the body itself changes too. You can use them indefinitely, and with enough use, you could physically withstand a ghost attack. But how? How can a human body contain that much power?” Sёarch* The n??el Fire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Yu Xiao was taken aback by the question, but before she could answer, Ah Dong had moved on.


    “How do we get out of this place?” he asked, his focus returning to their predicament.


    “Huh? Oh, right.” Yu Xiao quickly outlined their theories about the instance, then asked, “Do you remember exactly when you entered yesterday?”


    “I do.” Ah Dong raised his hand, glancing at the sturdy mechanical watch on his wrist. “Forty-three minutes until the time I entered.”


    Yu Xiao wasn’t surprised. Veterans from the Second Hospital were known for their meticulousness. He even remembered the precise time of entry. She decided to wait with him, not out of concern for his loneliness, but to test her own theory.


    Time crawled by, each second dragging on. Finally, Ah Dong stood up. “One minute left.”


    Yu Xiao jumped to her feet and joined him at the door. Ah Dong gripped the doorknob, his other hand glued to his watch as he watched the second hand tick towards its target.


    His expression was serious, focused. As the hand reached the final second, he threw open the door.


    The click of the latch echoed in the silent room. Yu Xiao peered out eagerly, expecting to see the familiar hallway. Instead, she found herself staring into another living room.


    Her face fell. “My hypothesis was wrong…”


    Ah Dong lingered at the doorway for a moment, then stepped into the living room. Yu Xiao stood by the door, chewing on her thumbnail in frustration. Her theory of how to exit had been wrong. So, what was the real way out?


    Ah Dong, meanwhile, surveyed the living room, then headed towards the entrance hall. There, he spotted a door.


    After a moment’s consideration, he opened it, revealing the familiar corridor beyond.


    Turning back to a dejected Yu Xiao, he said, “Your guess was right. The exit is here.”


    Yu Xiao stared at him, then slapped her forehead. Of course! To leave a apartment, you use the front door! Who walks out of a bedroom window?


    She had been so fixated on the timing that she had completely forgotten about the spatial aspect.


    Her theory had been right all along!


    Suddenly, another thought struck her. She whirled around, pushed aside the cabinet, and saw that the writing on the wall behind it had vanished.


    With a triumphant grin, Yu Xiao whipped the metal zipper pull off her jacket and excitedly etched the familiar words onto the wall:


    【Our guess was correct.】


    As she replaced the cabinet, she saw Ah Dong carrying Xiao Long’s body into the living room. She followed him towards the entrance hall, but… the door was gone.


    “Where’s the exit?”


    Ah Dong looked at her in surprise. “Isn’t it right here?”


    “There’s no exit here,” Yu Xiao insisted, seeing nothing but a blank wall. “Where’s the door you just used?”


    Ah Dong frowned. There had been a door, he was sure of it. Then it clicked. “You’ve forgotten,” he said slowly, “you don’t belong to this time.”


    Understanding dawned on Yu Xiao. Because she wasn’t a part of Ah Dong’s time, she couldn’t see the door.


    Which also meant that when they left the instance tomorrow, Ye Tao wouldn’t be able to leave with them.


    Would they really abandon Ye Tao to face despair and death alone?


    An idea sparked in Yu Xiao’s mind. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a wig, quickly putting it on. Under Ah Dong’s watchful eye, she transformed into Xiao Long.


    Ah Dong stared at her, momentarily speechless. “Can you see the door now?”


    Yu Xiao shook her head, her heart sinking. “No, I still can’t see it.”


    Ah Dong thought for a moment, then laid Xiao Long’s body down and pulled an old-fashioned flip phone from his pocket. “Try this,” he said, handing it to Yu Xiao.


    The moment Yu Xiao’s fingers closed around the phone, her vision shifted. The previously invisible door shimmered into existence before her eyes, standing wide open.


    Ah Dong, seeing the change in her expression, explained, “We once encountered a ghost in a dungeon that could mimic human appearances. If it took someone’s phone, it could use their identity to escape the instance.”