Gier (eines der drei Gifte)

Kapitel 5

"It's useless. The power of idols or crosses stems only from the faith deep within people's hearts. Or rather, their meaning lies in your sincerity, in treating them as a refuge for your soul, thus bringing peace to your heart and freeing you from the control of external illusions. But you're approaching it with utilitarian motives, so it won't work at all." Old Chen lit a cigarette. Su Yang silently watched the swirling smoke, feeling that his fate was like that smoke, drifting in the air, ready to be blown away by the wind at any moment, without any power over it.

Apartment 602, the Man-Eating Apartment (Part 6, 2)

"Alright, it's almost 8 o'clock. Get ready and go to work. We can talk about the rest when you get back tonight," Old Chen said to Su Yang.

Su Yang remained silent. He went back to 604, washed up, and then went to work with a heavy heart. But throughout the day, he was absent-minded and unable to concentrate on his work.

After returning to his apartment from get off work, Su Yang watched TV for a while, took a shower, and then sat on the edge of his bed reading Freud's *Dora the Young Girl*. Freud's book provides an in-depth analysis of the underlying consciousness behind the various psychological states of the adolescent Dora, peeling back the layers of dream associations to reveal the true thoughts in the subconscious. Su Yang was deeply moved. He closed the book, suddenly wondering: Could I also try to understand what's really going on in my subconscious? Are all those illusions truly created by myself?

Su Yang recalled reading psychologist Dai Lanni's book, *You Are the Master of Dream Interpretation*, in which the author strongly encouraged people to analyze the true meaning of dreams. She explained that "a dream is a philosopher, a master; it can see more and farther than you can. When people have things they can't understand or are confused about in life, they can seek help from their dreams in a timely manner—this is called 'dream incubation'." Dream incubation is actually quite simple and doesn't require many skills. Before going to sleep, one simply relaxes and repeatedly asks oneself a single question, such as "What kind of person am I?" With some training, the success rate can reach over 50%, meaning the dream will provide appropriate answers around this theme. Of course, these answers are obscure, full of confusion and leaps in interpretation, requiring people to use dream interpretation techniques to decipher them.

Su Yang had tried dream incubation several times before, but all attempts failed, so he gave up and stopped trying. However, faced with the recent series of strange events, Su Yang thought to himself, "Perhaps communicating with my subconscious might actually help improve my situation."

So, with nothing to lose, he relaxed on the bed and silently repeated to himself: Tell me what's going on with all this lately... Tell me what's going on with all this lately...

Regardless of whether such chanting is effective, concentrating one's mind on this point temporarily eliminates other distracting thoughts. Before long, Su Yang felt his mind begin to dissipate, and he gradually entered a state of blurred consciousness until he fell asleep.

In his dream, Su Yang suddenly found himself standing in room 602 of Buyun Garden. The room's layout was almost identical to what he had seen before, except for the presence of a man and a woman. The woman resembled Zhu Su from the online photos, while the man was only shown from behind. Su Yang felt a sense of familiarity but couldn't recall when he had seen him in real life. In the scene, Zhu Su pounced on the man like a madwoman, scratching and biting him. At first, the man didn't resist at all, remaining motionless as she vented her anger, until all his clothes were torn off by Zhu Su's scratches and bites, revealing bloodstains. Suddenly, the man grabbed Zhu Su and slapped her onto the sofa. Strangely, Zhu Su's face showed no anger, but rather a joyful smile. The man slapped her repeatedly, and Zhu Su's smile grew wider and wider. Finally, the man violently ripped off Zhu Su's clothes. Zhu Su didn't resist at all, but instead coiled around him like a water snake. But her flirting wasn't like most people's, using their tongues to entwine; instead, she used her teeth to bite, and bite hard at that. When she looked up and laughed, Su Yang could clearly see the deep teeth marks on the man's body. The man seemed unmoved by the pain; he simply pressed Zhu Su down beneath him and began thrusting violently back and forth inside her.

Staring at this scene, Su Yang was overwhelmed with indescribable astonishment. He simply couldn't reconcile the erotic scene before him with the eerie chill of 602, and the feeling of watching it was incredibly strange. Su Yang could clearly tell himself he was dreaming, yet it felt like watching a silent, adult film. The scenes flashed through his mind frame by frame, without a sound, as if Zhu Su and the man were merely two puppets manipulated by some force. Su Yang saw the images in his dream shift, the focus moving from Zhu Su and the man to the television screen. To his astonishment, Su Yang discovered that a short clip was playing repeatedly on the screen: a blank background filled with static, with only a pair of cold, eerie eyes moving across the image, from left to right, from right to bottom, from bottom to top… until finally, it seemed the entire screen was filled with those eyes. Su Yang felt an immense sense of oppression wash over him, almost suffocating him. He desperately tried to stop himself from watching, but it was as if two hands were pulling at his eyes, making it impossible to look away. "Wake up, wake up!" Su Yang said anxiously to himself in his dream, but he had no strength at all. He could only watch helplessly as his consciousness followed his eyes as they turned and spun, until he felt a dizzy sensation as if he were sailing a small boat on the sea, being tossed about by the waves, and he felt like vomiting.

The scene finally shifted back to Zhu Su. In the image, she was grabbing a small knife and plunging it into the man's thigh, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. The man remained silent, his hands moving towards Zhu Su's neck, the entire movement seemingly in slow motion, deliberate yet purposeful. Su Yang was horrified to find himself transformed into Zhu Su in the scene. Those hands, as if emerging from hell, were withered, dark, and bloodless, yet as powerful as eagle claws. Su Yang was frozen in place, powerless to struggle, forced to watch helplessly as the claws sliced across his neck, sending chills down his spine, before tightening their grip. Su Yang felt all his blood splattering beneath those claws, his breathing labored, his pupils dilated, the consciousness of death filling his mind. Yet, amidst this agony, there was a strange sense of pleasure!

SM! Sadomasochism! These words flashed through Su Yang's mind. He was astonished to find himself once again a bystander. The man's hand tightly gripped Zhu Su's distorted face; her eyes bulged, her tongue lolled out, and her face was flushed red, like a hanged ghost. The only difference was the eerie smile that lingered on her face. That smile reminded Su Yang of the ripples created by the human head in the toilet after he vomited in room 602. Instantly, his stomach churned as if filled with greenbottle flies, yet he couldn't vomit anything. It was as if those flies had blocked his stomach, his throat, his mouth, making it too heavy for him to even move his stomach or lips. That feeling was worse than death!

Apartment 602, the Man-Eating Apartment (Part 6, 3)

Fortunately, the man finally released his grip, and Su Yang felt his entire body relax, experiencing a sense of relief as if he had returned from hell to the human world. The man ejaculated into Zhu Su. Zhu Su giggled, but made no sound; her lips moved as if she were a fish washed ashore, about to dry in the sun, desperately breathing air that did not belong to her.

The image gradually blurred, transforming back into the television screen beside him, still filled with static, and that pair of eyes shifting, coldly observing. Su Yang once again felt an uncomfortable, pricking sensation all over his body. The image finally cleared again, freezing on the scene of Zhu Su and the man locked in a long, passionate kiss, as if celebrating their climax. The man's arm passed through Zhu Su's neck, gradually tightening. Su Yang could clearly see Zhu Su's mouth opening wider and wider, her tongue stretching longer and longer, while the man greedily sucked on Zhu Su's tongue, as if it were covered in nectar, while forcefully strangling her neck. After an unknown amount of time, Zhu Su finally stopped moving. The man released his grip, and Zhu Su's stiff body fell to the ground with a thud. The man carried Zhu Su's body to the kitchen, laid it across the stove, then took a sharp cleaver from the cupboard. With a single stroke, blood splattered, and Zhu Su's head was severed from her body. Su Yang felt as if her heart had been struck a heavy blow, screaming in pain, but the man ignored her, continuing to slash and cut. Gradually, Zhu Su's body turned into a blurry mass of flesh and blood. The entire kitchen became a living hell, a human slaughterhouse, filled with a heavy stench of blood. The man turned on the gas stove, roasting Zhu Su's limbs over the fire, while her internal organs were thrown into a pot to boil in water.

Su Yang felt as if his entire body had been hollowed out, leaving him utterly empty. He felt as if the bones in his body were gradually brittle under the intense flames, and his flesh was slowly contracting, wrapping around his heart, tightening it little by little, making it impossible to breathe... The feeling of death was so cruel, so real.

Apartment 602, the Man-Eating Apartment, Part 7 (1)

The sudden ringtone of his cell phone shattered the deathly silence of the night, jolting Su Yang awake from his nightmare. He stretched slightly, realizing he was drenched in sweat, and the strange smell of the roasted corpse from his dream still lingered around his nose.

"What a strange dream," Su Yang thought to himself, clutching his rapidly pounding heart. The scenes in the dream were so vivid, so clear, that he doubted it was a dream at all, but rather a replay of a memory. "Could it be that what he dreamed about actually happened in real life?" Su Yang's heart skipped a beat.

He sat on the bed, lost in thought. Su Yang could understand the initial intensity between Zhu Su and the man in his dream. From the neighbors' gossip, he could roughly guess that Zhu Su was withdrawn, and such withdrawnness often manifested as insecurity and even self-destructive desires. SM, or sadomasochism, is an expression of an extreme desire for love, seeking a spiritual belonging through self-torture or the torment of others—"I have absolute control or obedience to you, and you're still with me, proving your love for me." In a sense, devout Christians or Buddhist ascetics, who seek to draw closer to God and Buddha through self-flagellation or physical abuse, share a similar psychology with sadomasochism.

However, the man's subsequent killing of Zhu Su lacks a clear motive, as the two had no prior conflict, and the murder occurred after they had sex. Was there a death pact between them, or were they both manipulated? Furthermore, "How did this scene enter my dream? Did I actually witness it, or did someone implant it into my dream?"

Su Yang felt like his brain was about to explode. What was worse, he found that he dared not think any deeper, because the more he thought, the more he felt like a silkworm entangled in heavy threads, unable to struggle or break free, destined to stiffen into a pupa. Or, it was like falling into a giant trap, filled with sharpened bamboo strips, crawling with snakes and venomous creatures, all waiting for his final, descent into ruin.

Su Yang suddenly recalled a detail from his dream: the eyes on the television. Those eyes, wandering amidst the static on the screen, made him particularly uncomfortable. He felt that those eyes shone with coldness, disdain, and mockery, like the gaze of a cat looking at a dying mouse beneath its paws.

Su Yang shook his head, trying his best to dispel the discomfort brought by that gaze, but in an instant, he suddenly realized the mystery hidden in those eyes, and immediately felt as if his body had fallen into an ice cave, his whole body ice-cold! Could that be hypnosis? Su Yang recalled a psychology book he had read before, which mentioned that many psychologists hypnotize patients, allowing them to enter the depths of their memories and touch the root of their soul's tremors. However, they mostly used relaxation techniques, that is, using music and verbal suggestions to relax the patient's whole body, and then guiding them to open the valves of their subconscious to trace the source of the patient's predicament. But in fact, there is another kind of hypnosis, which uses the threshold of human senses, through some rapidly flashing specific images, to "implant" one's will into the hypnotist's brain. Simply put, everyone's vision, hearing, and consciousness have a perceptual limit, that is, a threshold. If it exceeds the threshold, such as a very soft sound or a very fast speed, the human body cannot perceive it. For example, movies utilize the threshold principle of human vision to achieve the effect of playback. In reality, the images on a film reel are displayed frame by frame, but during playback, the reel rotates rapidly, changing frames more than 20 times per second, exceeding the lower threshold of human vision, making it appear continuous. Similarly, some hypnotists can embed information that exceeds the lower threshold of human consciousness into certain images, implanting it into the subconscious of others, activating it at specific moments, thereby influencing or even controlling their consciousness.

In other words, both Zhu Su and the man might have been hypnotized! Thinking this, Su Yang's heart pounded wildly. He remembered that during his first chat with "Zhu Su," he had received a video message from her. When he opened it, all he saw was a static screen with an image of a single eye moving around. He was startled and asked "Zhu Su" what it was. "Zhu Su" replied that it was a mistake and then closed the message, which lasted about a minute. In that short minute, he might have been hypnotized!

"What exactly did I do under their control?" Su Yang felt like he was going crazy. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to unconsciously become a completely different man. He suddenly realized why the man's back in his dream looked so familiar—could it be him? A cold sweat broke out on his back. He forced himself to calm down and quickly dismissed the idea. If the man in his dream was truly him, Zhu Su's neighbors should have seen him long ago. When he took Old Chen and Xiao Zhang to 602, no one came forward to identify him.

But what was Zhu Su's intention in hypnotizing herself? How many times had she been hypnotized, and what had she done?

Su Yang nervously racked his brains, calculating all the strange things that had happened recently: murdering Old Chen was undoubtedly one, and waking up one morning inexplicably wearing a suit jacket with a foul stench was certainly suspicious too. So what had he done? Su Yang recalled the strange smell he had smelled on the suit, and a feeling of tightness and panic gripped his chest. He remembered the smell in Zhu Su's house—the two were so similar! "Could it be that I killed someone, or had close contact with a corpse?" Su Yang was so frightened by this thought that he almost fell off the bed.

"Don't think about it anymore, don't think about it anymore..." Su Yang clutched his hair in anguish, but he couldn't control his wandering thoughts. "If the Zhu Su online, the Zhu Su in the text messages, is an imposter, then what exactly did I do under his step-by-step guidance?" Su Yang's first thought was of Chen Lijuan's murder. "No, it couldn't be me!" Su Yang desperately denied the thought that popped into his head, but doubts kept surfacing: Chen Lijuan was killed between 11:30 pm and midnight, and in Su Yang's memory, he was asleep during that time, meaning he was in an unconscious state, which meant he was very likely under hypnosis! "Oh my god, did I really kill Chen Lijuan? With such cruel methods?" Su Yang groaned in pain, wishing he could crack open his skull, pull out all his memories, and carefully examine the records of that night.

Apartment 602, the Man-Eating Apartment, Part 7 (2)

A more terrifying thought suddenly surfaced in Su Yang's mind: If I really killed Chen Lijuan, where would I hide her head? Su Yang glanced at the ceiling again. He seemed to see a pair of hateful eyes staring at him eerily. "Could those eyes not be formed from water stains, but the eyes of a dead person?" Su Yang bit his lip until it bled, barely suppressing a gasp from his heart. He stared intently at the ceiling, teetering on the brink of collapse.

The beeping of a text message jolted Su Yang out of his daze. He realized he'd been lost in a dream and hadn't even read the text message. He sighed, grabbed his phone, and saw only a few words on the screen, yet they plunged him back into despair. The caller ID was Zhu Su's, the message was still "I'm outside your door," and even the time was identical: 12:50 AM.

Su Yang stared blankly at the text message, feeling as if a soul-binding rope had wrapped around his neck, and the other end of the rope was being held by a mysterious figure behind the scenes, gradually tightening. He replied with grief and indignation: "Who are you? What do you want?"

About five minutes passed, but to Su Yang it felt like an eternity. The text message ringtone finally sounded again just as his patience was about to run out, like a bolt from the blue, completely shattering his reason: his phone's text message ringtone was clearly custom-set, so how did it become the exact same standard ringtone he'd heard downstairs in the apartment building last time?

Su Yang nervously picked up his phone, opened the new text message, and glanced at it. His heart nearly jumped out of his mouth. The message was still the same: "I'm at your door," but now it was in scarlet MMS font, as if it were written in blood.

Su Yang could no longer hold back. He turned on the light, jumped out of bed, and yanked open the door.

Outside the door, only the drafty air drifted aimlessly through the hallway; there wasn't a soul in sight. He closed the door blankly, picked up his phone again, and found there was still some message left. He flipped to the next page, and froze, as if struck by lightning. The MMS image was a candid shot of the man from apartment 704 upstairs, carrying a suitcase, walking past his door. Su Yang stared at the image with disbelief, a chill creeping into his bones: Zhu Su said, "I'm at your door." But the person standing there was that man. Was the man Zhu Su, or was Zhu Su hiding in his suitcase—or, more precisely, was Zhu Su's head hidden inside the man's suitcase?

A chill enveloped Su Yang. He seemed to see Zhu Su's head staring straight at him from inside the man's suitcase, sneering and muttering: "I'm at your door, I'm at your door..." Su Yang covered his ears, tears streaming down his face. "Why did you choose me?" In the darkness, Su Yang wept sorrowfully like a wounded animal.

Tears washed away the pent-up emotions in Su Yang's heart, and his mind cleared somewhat. He suddenly realized that if it truly was hypnosis, then there must be a "key"—a specific instruction to trigger a hypnotic state. This instruction could be a sound, a sentence, an image, or even a scene. Su Yang tensed up; he had to find that "key" as soon as possible so that he could break free from Zhu Su's control and rediscover his true self.

Su Yang frantically tried to recall any clues related to each "nightmare," but it was like searching for a needle in a haystack—utterly hopeless. "Am I really just going to sit here and wait to die?" Su Yang suddenly became enraged, resenting his own frivolity, resenting "Zhu Su's" aggressiveness, and resenting the injustice the world had shown him. "It's people, it's life itself that makes the world so ugly!" he gritted his teeth, frantically grabbing anything he could reach and slamming it against the walls and the ground.

Just as he tossed his phone away, letting it land on the bookshelf on the other side of the wall, a flash of inspiration struck him: the key must be the phone! The other party must be controlling him through text messages or ringtones. Only the convenient communication function of a mobile phone could possibly activate hypnosis anytime, anywhere! Thinking this, Su Yang hurriedly got out of bed, frantically searching the bookshelf. But just then, the phone rang again—a ringtone Su Yang had never set! Instantly, Su Yang froze, his movements stiffening. Only the sound of the ringtone swirled in the room, filling his eardrums and gradually burying his consciousness.

In room 605, Old Chen listened intently to the sounds from next door all night, but found nothing unusual. As time passed, his tense nerves gradually relaxed, and finally, his heavy eyelids shut out his consciousness.

At three in the morning, while Old Chen was sound asleep, his phone suddenly rang. He jumped up and grabbed the phone to answer. It was an urgent call from the security guard in the monitoring room: "The resident of 604 has gone up to the seventh floor and entered 704. Do you want to go up and check?"

Old Chen paused for a moment, wondering what Su Yang was doing upstairs in room 704 in the middle of the night. But he didn't have time to think about it. He quickly dressed, grabbed his gun, and rushed out the door. In the hallway, the lights flickered and then went out. Old Chen's heart sank. He thought to himself, "Could this be a horror movie? What a coincidence!" A vague sense of foreboding crept into his mind.

Old Chen's eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness of the hallway. He found the stairs and ran up to the seventh floor in a few strides. The seventh-floor corridor was brightly lit, and Old Chen easily found room 704. He cautiously approached room 704; the door was ajar, and there was no sound from inside. Old Chen held a gun in one hand and pushed open the door with the other. A strong smell of blood mixed with the stench of corpses assaulted his nostrils. Old Chen was suddenly startled: how could 704 also become a living hell, even more eerie than 602 in Buyun Garden? He reached out and pressed the light switch, but there was no response; all around was an endless, deathly silence.

"Grave!" For a moment, these two words swirled in Old Chen's mind. He suppressed his unease, hid in a corner near the door, and called out softly, "Su Yang, are you there?" As soon as he opened his mouth, Old Chen felt the smell of blood and decay become even stronger, choking him so much that he could hardly breathe.

Apartment 602, the Man-Eating Apartment, Part 7 (3)

"Looks like I should get backup from others first," Old Chen thought to himself. He reached for the door, but found it locked shut without a sound, impossible to open. Old Chen was horrified. The apartment lock was just an ordinary one; he'd lived in 605 for the past few days and knew its layout inside and out, but now, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't budge it. "Am I going to die here tonight?" Old Chen trembled, overwhelmed by an unprecedented fear. "Su Yang, it seems I can't save you, and I'm going to lose my own life too."

In the darkness, Old Chen felt something silently approaching him, carrying a bloody scent—the smell of someone who had just killed someone. Old Chen shouted, "Stop! Who are you? I'll shoot if you come any closer!"

The object remained unmoved by Old Chen's words, continuing to approach him inch by inch. Old Chen could no longer restrain himself and pulled the trigger, but the gun failed to fire! He pulled the trigger several more times, but the gun still didn't respond. In that moment, Old Chen was filled with despair, thinking, "It seems I really can't escape this fate tonight."

Just as Old Chen closed his eyes in despair, he clearly felt a cold object wrap around his neck, wiping out all his strength and dissipating his consciousness...

An hour later, the apartment security guard realized the situation was dire and called for other guards. Together, they rushed to the seventh floor, but no matter what they tried, they couldn't open the door to room 704. At 6 a.m., reinforcements from the Criminal Investigation Team of the Public Security Bureau arrived. Using a chainsaw, they cut a large hole in the door of 704. One detective climbed in first and opened the door from the inside before the others rushed in. What they saw there stunned them. A bloodied male corpse lay on the bed, his head missing, clutching a Nokia mobile phone tightly in his hand. Old Chen lay on the doorway leading to the balcony, one hand gripping a pistol, the magazine lying on the floor, the other hand clutching the balcony door handle, his posture suggesting he was desperately trying to open the door. Even more horrifying was that Old Chen's eyes were bulging, his face contorted in a grotesque expression, as if he had suffered extreme fright before his death.

Police later found a highly decomposed human head in the toilet of apartment 704. Maggots crawled around the head's eye sockets, mouth, and ears, emitting a foul stench. DNA testing confirmed that it was indeed Zhu Su's head. Furthermore, police found a text message sent at 00:50 AM on the cell phone held by the male corpse in apartment 704. The message contained only three words: "You've arrived." The recipient was 13580369***, Su Yang's phone number. It was confirmed that the unidentified male corpse was a former resident of apartment 704.

Police then searched room 604 but found nothing, only a few drops of bodily fluid on the ceiling. Tests confirmed a perfect match with Chen Lijuan's DNA.

But Su Yang mysteriously disappeared from the world. The surveillance footage shows that Su Yang entered room 704 that night looking dazed, and soon after, Old Chen also entered with a gun, but the footage does not show anyone leaving! Moreover, the records from that day show that everything in the corridors of the seventh and eighth floors was normal, and there was no power outage.

The questions now are: Where did Su Yang go? Where is the headless man's head? Who will be the next victim? It seems as if a pair of eyes are coldly watching all of this, brewing the next bloody storm.

Apartment 602, the Man-Eating Apartment, Part 8 (1)

Two years later, a festive atmosphere filled apartment 602, Building 6, Buyun Garden, Guangzhou: a brand-new renovation, freshly painted white walls, teak floors, and wedding photos hanging on the walls, the sweet smiles of the couple in the pictures all proclaiming that a new life for the lovers was setting sail in this small apartment. Only in the dimly lit corners, a pair of eyes coldly observed everything, like a lurking leopard, ready to pounce and tear all the beauty to shreds at any moment. Immersed in the joy of their wedding, Zhao Lixu and Zhang Wanping embraced and kissed passionately, indulging in the tenderness of their new marriage, completely unaware that the wings of death were circling overhead.

"Darling, you're so beautiful." Zhao Lixu murmured as he passionately kissed Zhang Wanping's cherry lips, his fingers restlessly exploring the layers of her clothes, roaming over her smooth skin.

"You lecher!" Zhang Wanping playfully grabbed Zhao Lixu's hand. "Look at you, so impatient. It's not like it's the first time. What's the rush? Go take a shower, you reek of alcohol."

Zhao Lixu chuckled and pinched Zhang Wanping's rosy cheeks. "If I'm a lecherous ghost, then you're the matchmaker. I'll haunt you every day, don't you like that?"

"Pah, pah, pah! Today is our big day, don't say such unlucky things." Zhang Wanping looked at the house timidly. "Honey, everyone says the lady of this house died a terrible death. Do you think it's possible that a vengeful ghost will come and haunt us in the middle of the night?"

"Hahaha." Zhao Lixu laughed loudly, "You're supposed to be highly educated, how could you believe in such nonsense as ghosts and gods? Even if ghosts really exist, it's hard to say who's afraid of whom. Look at your husband's strong body, how strong his masculinity is! Those little ghosts would be driven away by the smoke."

“But I still feel a little uneasy,” Zhang Wanping said hesitantly. “How about we burn some paper money for her tomorrow? After all, this used to be someone else’s house. Maybe they’re still attached to the past and haven’t left yet. If we move in like this, it will inevitably disturb her and make her unhappy.”

"Alright, I'll do whatever my wife says." Zhao Lixu kissed Zhang Wanping's cheek. "Just burn it, consider it compensation for the house—if she hadn't died in this house, how could it have been sold to us so cheaply; if we hadn't gotten such a great deal, how could we have gotten married so quickly?"

Zhang Wanping forced a smile, "But I still feel a little uneasy."

"You're just worrying yourself. There are no ghosts in the world, it's just that fools make them up. Okay, I'm going to take a shower, honey, do you want to take a bath together?"

"Tch, you're just being vain. Go wash yourself." Seeing her husband's nonchalant attitude, Zhang Wanping felt much relieved. The scariest thing is when you feel afraid, you find that the person you want to rely on is even more afraid than you. But if the other person is indifferent or provides strong support, then the fear is greatly reduced.

Zhao Lixu stripped himself naked and, taking advantage of Zhang Wanping's inattention, secretly reached out and touched her breast. Amid Zhang Wanping's gasp of surprise, Zhao Lixu, with a smug smile of success, whistled as he entered the bathroom.

"A leopard can't change its spots." Zhang Wanping spat at Zhao Lixu's retreating figure, but felt no anger, only a beautiful anticipation for her new life. She stretched comfortably on the sofa, surveying every corner and detail of her home. The thought that every piece of furniture, every appliance, every inch of space was entirely her own gave her a dreamlike quality. "It feels so good to have a home," Zhang Wanping sighed happily. Hearing the rushing water and Zhao Lixu's melodious whistling from the bathroom, she suddenly felt a strong longing, and her face flushed.

To distract herself from this impulse, she picked up the remote control on the table and casually turned on the television. It was the evening news again. She pressed the remote and changed the channel. With a "hiss," the television screen didn't display a vibrant picture; instead, it became filled with static. In the center of the screen, a pair of eyes, cold and resentful, seemed to have been gouged out of a dead person's eye socket, staring coldly at Zhang Wanping!

Zhang Wanping gasped, her soul almost leaving her body. She frantically grabbed the remote, trying to change the channel, but the buttons seemed broken; no matter how she pressed them, nothing happened. Terrified, Zhang Wanping desperately tried to avoid looking at the television screen, but the screen seemed to possess a powerful magnetic field, fixing her gaze firmly on it. Gradually, as if under control, Zhang Wanping couldn't even blink; her eyes were fixed on the eyes moving back and forth on the screen. The world before her gradually blurred, becoming ethereal and indistinct, until it vanished, turning into a black hole.

"Wife, what's wrong?" Zhao Lixu's voice pulled Zhang Wanping back to reality from her hazy consciousness. She opened her eyes and saw Zhao Lixu standing naked in front of her, affectionately patting her face and grinning wickedly: "Tired? Or do you want to go to bed with me soon?"

Zhang Wanping pushed Zhao Lixu away. The television screen in front of her was showing a gala program, a peaceful scene of singing and dancing, with no sign of anything unusual.

"What are you doing?" Zhao Lixu looked bewildered and displeased with Zhang Wanping's rude behavior.

"Did you see anything when you came out of the bathroom?" Zhang Wanping asked in a panic, pointing at the television without bothering to explain.

"What did you see? It's just this TV program. What did you see?" Zhao Lixu blinked, a little confused.

"You really didn't see anything?" Zhang Wanping threw herself into Zhao Lixu's arms, gripping his arm tightly. "What about me? Did you see anything unusual about me just now?"

"You were just asleep, weren't you?" Zhao Lixu still looked bewildered.

Zhang Wanping nodded and shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face. "Husband, I really feel this house is eerie. Let's not stay here anymore, okay? I'm scared."

Apartment 602, the Man-Eating Apartment, Part 8 (2)

"What's wrong with you?" Zhao Lixu looked at the pitiful Zhang Wanping, feeling a pang of heartache mixed with fear. "Did you see something strange?"

Zhang Wanping pointed at the television screen and said, sobbing, "I just saw a pair of eyes staring at me from there. Then I lost consciousness and passed out."

"Screen? Eyes?" Zhao Lixu stared at Zhang Wanping in astonishment, then turned back to look at the television. Someone was still singing on TV, but after a while, Zhao Lixu felt all the sounds gradually fade away, leaving only the singer's lips moving like a dying fish, their eyes vacant. Suddenly, that gaze sharpened, like two knives piercing his heart. Zhao Lixu shuddered, instantly snapping back to reality.

Zhang Wanping felt Zhao Lixu's body tremble, and her heart skipped a beat. She asked in a hoarse voice, "Did you see something too?"

"No, no," Zhao Lixu forced a smile. "I was just a little cold because I wasn't wearing any clothes. It was just a TV, it didn't have any eyes. I think you've been too overworked and tired these past few days, so you're hallucinating."

“But…” Zhang Wanping opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak. Sometimes things are so strange that even you start to doubt their reality, or rather, subconsciously you don’t want them to be true. She sighed softly, “I hope it’s just because I’m too tired, as you said. But then again, even if there really is a ghost, we have no grudge against her, so she won’t make things difficult for us, right?”

Zhao Lixu walked over, turned off the TV, came back and picked up Zhang Wanping, his "lewd" smile returning. "Wife, can you check me now to see if I'm all clean before we go into the bridal chamber and complete our wedding ceremony?"

Zhang Wanping forced a smile. "Okay, husband, you've passed my test. Now we can go to the bridal chamber."

Zhao Lixu carried Zhang Wanping into the bedroom and carefully placed her on the bed. Zhang Wanping closed her eyes, letting Zhao Lixu's fingers wander over her body, gradually rekindling the extinguished desire within her. When Zhao Lixu successfully entered her, she couldn't help but moan, swaying her body in response to him.

In her daze, Zhang Wanping suddenly felt an itch on the soles of her feet and couldn't help but giggle. "Oh, stop licking my soles, it tickles!" She opened her eyes, about to punch Zhao Lixu, but saw his stiff expression.

"What's wrong?" Zhang Wanping looked at Zhao Lixu strangely, but then felt a chill run down her spine, freezing all her passion and excitement—Zhao Lixu was on top of her, moving around, how could he possibly be licking the soles of her feet?

"Ah!" Zhang Wanping screamed, sitting up abruptly. Zhao Lixu, caught off guard, was thrown off the bed. With a thud as he hit the ground, a sharp meow rang out, terrifying both of them. Zhang Wanping grabbed the blanket and wrapped herself tightly in it, her face pale, her body trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind.

"It's a black cat." Zhao Lixu's voice, still shaken, came from the air. "Damn it, where did this stray cat come from? How did it get in here?"

Zhang Wanping cautiously peeked out from under the covers, opening her eyelids a tiny bit. A pair of gleaming green eyes were staring fiercely at her from the bedroom doorway, startling her so much that she screamed again and buried her head back under the covers, bursting into tears.

"Get out, get out of here right now! You damned black cat!" Zhao Lixu roared, brandishing the belt he had pulled off his pants, shooing the black cat out of the bedroom, and then slamming the door shut.

"Alright, little darling, don't be afraid anymore, don't be afraid anymore." Zhao Lixu tenderly moved the blanket aside and hugged Zhang Wanping's cold body. Under Zhao Lixu's gentle comfort, Zhang Wanping's trembling gradually subsided, her sobs turning into whimpers, and then into hiccups. Zhao Lixu reached out to wipe away the remaining tears from the corners of her eyes, his eyes full of love, "Sweetie, don't cry, I'm here, don't be afraid."

“Honey, I’m really scared.” Zhang Wanping looked up. “Honey, can we not stay here anymore? I feel uneasy here.”

“This…” Zhao Lixu looked troubled. “Wife, where else can we live if we don’t live here? All our savings have been used for the down payment on this house, and we still have more than a thousand yuan in mortgage payments to make every month. Where will we get the money to rent a place? Besides, we’ve put so much effort into decorating and furnishing this house. It would be such a waste to give it up just because a cat has wandered in.”