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In the room, there were only two people: Severe Cold and herself. Just moments ago, when Severe Cold entered, he noticed the door was ajar, and a chill ran down his spine. However, he didn't mention it to Ziya, who only realized the curtains were drawn but remained unaware that the door was also open.
Ziya changed out of her damp clothes and tossed them aside, allowing the gentle breeze to caress her skin, dispersing both her fears and the cool air around her, savoring the light touch.
For some reason, Fang Ziya felt an unsettling sensation about that piece of clothing. It seemed as if something clung to it, and no matter where she went, she felt as though she were being watched, a prickling unease creeping up her back.
"It's much more comfortable in my own clothes!" Fang Ziya huffed contentedly. As her mood lightened, drowsiness began to wash over her like a fog.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
In the dim room, moonlight streamed through the parted curtains. The wind gently pushed the window open, causing the curtains to flutter wildly in the moonlight's glow. The clock chimed in rhythm, playing a bizarre melody on this cold night.
Suddenly! The door creaked open silently. A beam of light sliced through the half-open door, revealing a wheelchair emerging from the shadows outside.
Perhaps it was the chill that struck her; Fang Ziya abruptly opened her eyes and sat up in bed!
It was a person! A woman! She sat in a wheelchair with her head bowed low, long black hair obscuring half of her face. But even with just that half visible, it resembled a withered corpse—sunken eye sockets and pale skin, like a puppet without a spine.
Tension and fear surged within Fang Ziya. She wanted to move away from the eerie woman but felt as if her body were bound and unable to budge. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead as her eyes involuntarily fixed on the strange woman.
With a soft whirring sound of the wheelchair's wheels turning, it glided closer to Ziya's bedside. The woman suddenly lifted her head and gave Fang Ziya an unsettling smile...
"Ah!" Fang Ziya screamed. She didn't know where she found the strength but leaped off the bed and scrambled toward the door on hands and feet, lacking even the courage to glance back at the woman in the wheelchair.
As Fang Ziya approached the door, the darkness outside felt like her only escape.
Five steps!
Four steps!
Three steps!
Two steps!
But those two steps marked the difference between hell and heaven—at that moment, the door slammed shut with a loud bang!
Fang Ziya looked despairingly at the closed door, her hands gripping the frame as she tried to force it open, but it was all in vain! The door felt as if it had been welded shut from the outside. The sensation of her sweaty palms on the latch was all too real; this wasn’t a nightmare, it was a stark reality! The more Ziya thought about it, the more her heart raced with fear.
This isn’t real; there are no ghosts in this world… Ziya kept reassuring herself, helplessly pounding on the door, hoping that the noise would wake Severe Cold. The door stood like a cold wall, isolating her from Severe Cold, while behind her, the wheels of a wheelchair seemed to turn and glide toward her.
Ziya's heart raced to her throat; the clothes she had just changed into now clung to her skin, chilled to the bone. It felt as though the wheelchair was drawing closer, a chilling breeze sweeping in with its approach.
“Severe Cold, help me… Severe Cold…” Ziya shouted as she pounded on the door with all her might, her legs trembling uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, Severe Cold finished one cigarette and lit another without taking off his clothes. He listened intently for any cries that might come from upstairs. Time ticked by slowly; it seemed Ziya had already fallen asleep. The memory of how he felt when he went out to dispose of the Dead Cat sent shivers down his spine. The cold white light of the moon cast an eerie glow on the ground.
He stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it into the trash can, which was already filled with his used cigarette butts. Once again, he strained to listen for any sounds from upstairs. It seemed he heard something faint but when he stood up and walked to the door, there was nothing but silence.
Severe Cold once again dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed, pulling out a cigarette box only to find it contained just one cigarette. Reluctant to smoke it, he brought it to his nose and took a sniff before placing it back in the box.
Still feeling uneasy, he decided to go upstairs to check on things. The staircase was dimly lit, casting shadows on the floor as Severe Cold stepped up towards Ziya's bedroom door. It was then he noticed her door was closed, and an unsettling chill ran down his spine. Realizing something was wrong, he quickly ran and slammed against the door, forcing it open and entering the room.
Inside the bedroom, Severe Cold saw Ziya curled up on the floor, her face pale and disheveled hair framing her terrified eyes as she stared towards the window sill. Her mouth was agape, seemingly unable to scream any longer.
Seeing this scene made Severe Cold's scalp tingle with dread; his heart raced wildly. He hurried over to the window to check, feeling a refreshing cold breeze fluttering the curtains. How could they have been blown open? With that question lingering in his mind, he pushed it aside; first, he needed to ensure Ziya was alright.
Ziya lay there like a drowning swimmer, utterly drained of strength. She had no energy to rise from the ground, only her wide, fearful eyes moving woodenly. Severe Cold felt a surge of compassion as he helped her up, almost moved to tears by her state.
As he lifted Ziya, he felt her body trembling all over. "Ziya, don’t be afraid. I won’t leave you. You rest on the bed while I sleep under it," he reassured her.
Ziya merely stared silently at him, as if she had exhausted all her strength just to say those few words. In that moment, she resembled a small child, allowing him to handle her however he wished. Her face was as pale as a sheet of transparent paper, and the lingering fear in her eyes made Severe Cold increasingly anxious.
He half-carried Ziya onto the bed and checked the window again to ensure it was securely closed before locking the door. Only when he confirmed it wouldn’t budge did he let out a sigh of relief.
Severe Cold retrieved a dark blue blanket from the nearby wardrobe and spread it on the floor before sitting down beside her bed, leaning against it in a light doze until dawn broke. When he finally got up from the floor and looked at Ziya again, she seemed to have peacefully drifted into sleep.
Squinting in the square-shaped room, Severe Cold observed how neatly and simply the furniture was arranged; it would be impossible to hide anything here. What exactly had Ziya seen? He would have to wait until she woke up to ask.
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