This was supposed to be just an ordinary day.
Bai Ci was holding a small watering can, watering a row of succulents in the shop. The afternoon sunlight filtered in at an angle, making the silver bracelet on her wrist gleam.
“Sister Ci, the three o'clock session of 《Wen Hong Lou》 is short of one NPC. Can you fill in?” The voice of Xiao Chen, the shop assistant, drifted over from the checkout counter, sounding a bit frantic.
“Which character?” Around people she knew, her voice was soft, with a habitual upward lilt at the end.
“Just A'tao, the flower seller. She doesn’t have many lines, just needs to seem a bit timid. It’s very easy to play.” Xiao Chen ran over and handed her the character card. Seeing her holding the watering can, he couldn't help but remark, “Sister Ci, you really do love these succulents.”
Bai Ci smiled and said nothing, as if tacitly agreeing with Xiao Chen's words.
It wasn't wrong to say she liked succulents. Compared to living, multifaceted humans, she indeed preferred these simple lives that lacked complex motives.
After handing over the character card, Xiao Chen didn't forget to show some concern for his colleague: “I just checked the weather forecast. It says there'll be thunderstorms this evening. Sister Ci, remember to bring an umbrella when you get off work.”
Bai Ci took the character card and quickly scanned the lines. “Got it.”
The three o'clock session went smoothly. By the time it ended, it was almost six o'clock. Sure enough, it had started raining outside. Pea-sized raindrops pelted against the glass door, quickly blurring the view outside.
Bai Ci left the board game cafe and walked along the sidewalk. When she passed the convenience store on the corner, she went in to buy a bottle of water as if drawn by some strange impulse.
The convenience store's TV was broadcasting the news, the female anchor's voice carrying a hint of gravity: “At approximately three o'clock this afternoon, a 4.8-magnitude earthquake struck Xizhou City, with a focal depth of ten kilometers. According to preliminary statistics, an old dormitory building of a certain university in the city partially collapsed, currently leaving three people injured. The specific casualty figures are still being compiled...”
Bai Ci's footsteps paused.
Xizhou City... she had been there once last year during a team-building trip. In her memory, a university dormitory building there was indeed very old, with peeling plaster on the walls.
After listening to the news for a moment, Bai Ci walked out of the convenience store. Suddenly, a sharp metallic screeching sound echoed from above her head.
She instinctively looked up.
It was an outdoor air conditioning unit on the exterior wall of the office building. Somehow, it had come loose and was hurtling down at a crooked angle.
In that instant, time seemed to slow down. She could clearly see the rust on the unit's casing, the path of the raindrops rolling down the metal surface, and she could even hear the sound of her own heart suddenly tightening.
Bai Ci wanted to dodge, but in such a brief moment, her consciousness couldn't even command her body to react.
The next second, a heavy metallic impact exploded in her ears. Excruciating pain radiated from her head, and her consciousness felt as though it was violently seized by an invisible hand, sinking rapidly.
She collapsed onto the wet sidewalk. Her vision began to blur, and the rain fell on her face, icy cold.
Her final trace of awareness lingered on the succulent bracelet on her wrist. The links had broken, and that tiny Haworthia leaf fell into a nearby puddle.
She wanted to reach out and pick it up, but the moment her fingertips twitched, darkness swallowed her completely.
...
“Drip, drop.”
There was the sound of water dripping onto a surface, very soft, yet it echoed with unnatural clarity in her ears.
Bai Ci snapped her eyes open. The first thing that caught her eye was a pink ceiling, adorned with a few star-shaped stickers.
She propped herself up, finding herself lying on a small princess bed. The blanket was light purple, printed with a rabbit pattern adorned with lace borders.
Where was she?
She sat up and looked around.
The room wasn't large, but the decor radiated a strong sense of girlish charm. The desk against the wall was white, with a Hello Kitty-shaped lamp sitting on it next to a stack of fairy tale books. Opposite the desk was a wardrobe with pink doors, adorned with several anime princess posters. White lace curtains hung over the window, and outside, it was a bright, blazing sunny day.
Bai Ci threw off the blanket and got out of bed. Her feet stepped onto the soft carpet, the sensation far too real to be a dream.
This wasn't a hospital, nor was it her rented apartment.
Could it be... she was rescued by a Good Samaritan and temporarily placed somewhere?
But what kind of Good Samaritan would be so reckless as to just pick up a random person from the street? And place an injured person in such an exquisitely decorated little girl's room?
Bai Ci's brow furrowed slightly.
Besides, if her memory served her right, she remembered being hit by an outdoor air conditioning unit. That intense pain was definitely not an illusion.
She instinctively felt her head. There was no sticky sensation, no bandages, and not even a hint of pain.
Something was wrong.
Something was deeply, utterly wrong.
She wasn't dead, and she had appeared in a strange place completely unharmed, just like the classic setup of a puzzle game.
Bai Ci walked over to the wardrobe and opened the doors, attempting to find some clues.
With so many inexplicable things, she had no choice but to treat this like a puzzle game for now. Except, in the past, she had been the DM guiding the players, but now she had become a “player” herself.
Slipping into the mindset of playing a murder mystery game, Bai Ci's chaotic thoughts quickly settled.
A few pink dresses and some white T-shirts hung inside the wardrobe. There weren't many, but they were all children's sizes. This was undoubtedly a little girl's room.
A normal little girl's room—so normal it was almost eerie.
There were no traces of any rescue or hospital. Instead, it felt like a meticulously arranged stage, and she was an actor who had been suddenly dragged onto it.
Bai Ci turned back to the desk, her gaze landing on a locked diary in the top right corner.
The diary was sky blue with a large oil-painted sunflower on the cover. The lock was a common three-digit combination lock, its silver body already slightly oxidized and darkened.
Perhaps she could find some clues in it.
Bai Ci picked up the diary, her fingertips gently tracing the lock's dials. Looking up, she noticed a calendar on the desk. Several dates were circled in red pen, with helpful annotations written in childish handwriting.
According to typical puzzle-solving logic, one would obtain clues from the calendar to open the diary.
But Bai Ci planned to skip a step. There were always “mischievous” players who would reset the passwords on props just to make things difficult for the DM cleaning up afterward. She had opened this kind of combination lock countless times.
Solving this type of combination lock wasn't difficult. When the correct number was pressed, it would feel smoother than the others and could be pressed down slightly further.
She tried pressing the number 1. It felt stiff and wouldn't go down.
2, still the same.
When she reached 5, her fingertip felt a slight smoothness. Pressing down, it indeed gave a little. The first digit was 5.
Following the same method, the second digit was 8, and the third was 3.
With a soft click, the combination lock popped open.
Holding the diary, Bai Ci was about to flip open the cover when a tune suddenly rang out from the drawer on the right side of the desk.
She pulled the drawer open. Inside was an old-fashioned flip phone, and the music was its ringtone. The caller ID displayed an unsaved number.
After hesitating for two seconds, she pressed the answer key.
Bai Ci remained silent, waiting for the person on the other end to speak first.
“Drip, drop.”
There was no immediate voice from the other end, only the sound of water dripping onto a surface. Bai Ci remembered—she had heard this very sound before waking up, which she had initially assumed was the rain she heard before losing consciousness.
A few seconds later, a distorted female voice came through. The voice sounded as if her throat were being squeezed, or as if speaking through a thick sheet of plastic, making it impossible to discern her age.
“Hello there,” the female voice said slowly. “I am Mary. I am coming to visit you.”
It didn't sound like a request, but more like an announcement. As soon as she finished speaking, the call disconnected, leaving Bai Ci no time to react or think.
With the call cut off, Bai Ci suddenly felt a wave of chill.
It wasn't that the room's temperature had dropped, but rather an inexplicable sensation of being watched—as if a pair of eyes were hiding in some invisible corner, staring intently at her.
Bai Ci spun around, scanning every corner of the room. The wardrobe doors were firmly shut, the curtains were still, and there was nothing under the desk, yet that feeling of being watched didn't diminish in the slightest.
Wait!
Mary, the phone call...
Bai Ci recalled a somewhat famous horror story.
Rate on N.U.
