Discovered

The opening ceremony was held in the main hall of the ancient castle.

Shen Zhixia lay on the railing of the second-floor gallery, watching the crew set up the incense table downstairs—roasted pig, fruit, incense, and candles, all neatly arranged. The director, wearing a red vest, stood at the front with three sticks of incense in his hand, reciting auspicious words toward the camera.

She listened for a moment, found it uninteresting, and was about to find another place to hang around when she saw Lu Chenzhou enter through the side door.

Today he wore a light gray knit sweater with a black coat over it. His hair was neatly combed, and his face wore that standard movie king smile—warm, proper, beyond reproach. As soon as the crew saw him, they immediately cleared a path. The director's eyes even narrowed into slits as he beamed, calling him over to take the center spot.

Shen Zhixia rested her chin on her hand, staring at him.

Last night, this man had coldly dragged her away from the stairway entrance, and now he was smiling as if nothing had ever happened. She recalled his words back then—"Don't go over there"—his tone as hard as a command, completely at odds with the gentle, refined look he was putting on now.

Just as she was thinking this, a scream suddenly came from downstairs.

It was a young actress, her face deathly pale, backing away while pointing at the floor near the incense table. Shen Zhixia followed her gaze and saw that somehow, a patch of black watery stain had seeped out onto the floor tiles, its edges slowly spreading.

Thin black mist rose from the water stain, climbing upward like a living thing.

The crew froze. The director's hand holding the incense hung stiffly in midair, and the script supervisor stood clutching her binder, at a loss. The black mist grew denser and denser, soon coalescing into a mass that rolled along the ground toward the crowd.

More screams erupted.

Shen Zhixia frowned. She could feel that resentment—bone-piercingly cold, exactly the same as the one at the stairway entrance last night. Instinctively, she took half a step back, her fingers gripping the railing tightly.

That was when Lu Chenzhou moved.

Instead of retreating, he stepped forward two paces, placing himself between the black mist and the crew. His smile was still on his face, but his eyes had completely changed—cold as ice, fixed directly on the thing on the ground.

Shen Zhixia saw his right hand hanging at his side, his thumb slowly thumbing one of the black ebony beads on his wrist.

The movement was subtle, yet it made her inexplicably feel danger.

"Don't panic." Lu Chenzhou spoke. His voice still carried that gentle tone, but something extra lay between the words. "It might be a burst pipe underground. Let me check."

As he spoke, he crouched down and pressed his fingers against the edge of the black water stain.

Shen Zhixia saw it clearly. The moment his fingertips pressed down, the black mist struggled and shrank back, as if something had forcibly pinned it down. Lu Chenzhou lowered his gaze, the corners of his mouth still holding a smile, but his fingers traced a light arc across the floor—Shen Zhixia's sharp eyes caught a faint golden sheen along that arc, there and gone in an instant.

The black mist recoiled as if burned, darting abruptly into the crevices between floor tiles, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Only an ordinary water stain remained on the ground.

Lu Chenzhou stood up, brushed off his hands, and turned to the director. "It really is a pipe issue. I'll have someone come fix it. Everyone, don't worry. Carry on."

He said it so casually. The crew exchanged bewildered glances. Though still shaken, seeing how composed he was, they could only steel themselves and continue. The director cleared his throat, raised the incense again, and muttered under his breath.

Shen Zhixia lay on the railing, completely stunned.

What had she just seen?

That golden light, that suppression of the resentment, and the aura emanating from his fingertips as they traced the floor—it made her scalp tingle. This wasn't something an ordinary person could do.

She recalled the moment he had grabbed her wrist last night—that bone-chilling force, and the unquestioning tone of his "Don't go over there."

This man was not right.

Very not right.

Shen Zhixia bit her lower lip, staring at the gentle-smiling movie king downstairs, her mind in chaos. She had thought he was just a lucky living person who could see her. Now it seemed he could not only see her but also fight back against those resentful spirits.

She didn't know how to describe this feeling—it was like watching a cat suddenly stand up and walk on two legs, then casually pin a mouse to the ground.

Incongruous, yet somehow, inexplicably, fitting.

The opening ceremony ended soon after. The shaken crew gradually dispersed, each tending to their own tasks. Lu Chenzhou exchanged a few more reassuring words with the director, but his gaze imperceptibly fell on that water stain.

Others couldn't see it, but Shen Zhixia could clearly see it—a wisp of extremely faint black mist, like a thin thread, crept out from the crevice between the floor tiles, hugged the wall, and wound its way toward the depths of the corridor.

The mist seemed to want to hide, but Lu Chenzhou's earlier move appeared to have branded it, leaving it nowhere to escape.

Lu Chenzhou bid the director farewell and turned to walk in the direction the black mist had vanished. His steps were not fast, but they were steady, his aim clear.

Shen Zhixia's heart leaped, and almost instinctively, she followed.

She wanted to know—who exactly was he? And what was he going to do?

She floated lightly, her feet never touching the ground, like a weightless shadow, keeping a good distance behind Lu Chenzhou. She dared not get too close. There was something about him that made her instinctively both fearful and curious.

Lu Chenzhou passed through several corridors and finally stopped at the end of a dim hallway.

There stood a heavy wooden door, secured with a rusty bronze lock, with a warning sign plastered by the crew that read "Danger—No Entry."

Shen Zhixia knew this door.

It led to the deepest part of the ancient castle, a sealed area she had never set foot in. For ten years, this door had been like a scar on the castle's heart—heavy, dead silent, exuding a cold more oppressive than anywhere else.

She watched Lu Chenzhou stand before the door. He didn't touch the lock, only stared quietly. The wisp of black mist that had guided him here lingered for a moment under the door crack before eagerly slipping inside.

No lights were on in the corridor. Only the faint moonlight filtering through a small window at the end traced Lu Chenzhou's figure into a silent silhouette.

Shen Zhixia shrank into the shadows behind the corner, poking only half her head out, forgetting even to breathe.

She watched Lu Chenzhou stand before the door for a full minute, not moving a muscle—as if assessing something, or waiting for something.

Just as Shen Zhixia thought he was about to turn and leave, Lu Chenzhou suddenly moved.

He didn't open the door. He didn't turn around.

He just... slowly, tilted his head.

That face, looking exceptionally stern in the moonlight, turned with unerring precision toward the corner where Shen Zhixia was hiding. Across more than ten meters of darkness, those deep, unfathomable eyes pierced through every shadow like twin blades, nailing her firmly in place.

Discovered.