"You Can't Leave"

Shen Zhixia stood before the ancient castle's main gate, staring at the gravel-strewn path outside.

She had just confirmed something from Lu Chenzhou—her death was not right.

That rainy night ten years ago, she hadn't fallen by accident. Someone had pushed her.

The thought lodged in her mind like a nail, making it impossible to stand still. She had to get out. She had to find the surveillance footage from back then. She had to figure out who had killed her.

Shen Zhixia took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.

The moment her toes touched the stone slab outside, a tearing sensation shot up from the soles of her feet.

She looked down and saw her shadow split down the middle, its edges beginning to shatter into tiny black particles. Those particles floated up, only to be yanked violently back toward the castle by an invisible force.

"What's—"

Before she could finish, her entire body was dragged backward.

Shen Zhixia crashed onto the inner side of the threshold, hands hitting the ground, her fingertips sinking straight through the floor tiles. She lifted her hands in horror and found them translucent, like paper soaked through with water.

No.

She wasn't one to defy fate out of stubborn superstition. She was simply too desperate.

The hand that had pushed her down the stairs ten years ago, the erased surveillance footage, the truth sealed away in that rainy night—it was all just beyond the door. Gritting her teeth, Shen Zhixia charged at the gate again.

This time, she didn't even reach the stone slab.

Her shadow burst apart beneath her first, countless black fragments scattering like shattered mirrors, then pinned midair by invisible hooks. Her soul form stretched thin and long. Her skirt hem, her hair tips, her fingertips—all turned as translucent as paper ash, and even her voice seemed torn into thin threads.

Rainy night, staircase, a hand reaching from behind—

The moment that image surfaced, it was yanked back by the crimson patterns beneath the threshold, as if someone had reached across ten years to seize her memory and ruthlessly snuff it out.

Shen Zhixia fell to her knees, her fingers clawing uselessly into the floor tiles, grasping at nothing.

She lay on the ground, her soul form nearly dissolving. The castle's floor tiles swayed before her eyes; she could even see the dirt and stones beneath them, as if she were sinking through everything.

Just as she thought she would disappear completely, a hand pressed down on her shoulder.

That hand was steady, carrying a warmth like a barrier between her and the tearing force.

Shen Zhixia looked up and saw Lu Chenzhou crouching in front of her.

His face bore no expression. He just looked down at her, the black sandalwood beads on his left wrist clicking back into place one by one.

"Don't move."

His voice was low. It didn't sound like comfort—more like an order.

Shen Zhixia wanted to speak, but found she couldn't even make a sound. She could only stare wide-eyed at Lu Chenzhou.

He didn't take out a talisman. He didn't chant any spell that might draw attention. He simply brushed the dust from her shoulder, his thumb slowly rolling over the black sandalwood beads on his left wrist. The tiny silver charm clasp between the beads flashed once in the shadow of his sleeve, then vanished.

The crimson patterns beneath the threshold recoiled half an inch as if burned.

The tearing sensation finally stopped.

Shen Zhixia's soul form slowly solidified again. The shattered fragments of her shadow crawled back from the floor cracks, the threshold, and the darkness around her feet, barely sticking back beneath her. She gasped for air, even though she didn't actually need to breathe—but the instinct of survival made her shrink instinctively toward the warmth of Lu Chenzhou's palm.

Lu Chenzhou's hand didn't linger. He withdrew it the moment he confirmed she wouldn't dissolve again.

Lu Chenzhou pulled his hand back, stood up, and fixed his gaze on the ring of crimson patterns that flickered briefly beneath the threshold.

"You can't leave," he said flatly, as if stating a law of physics. "This is a reinforced earth-binding lock. Try again, and your soul form will be torn apart completely."

The chill in his words froze Shen Zhixia. She looked down at her hands. Her palms had solidified, but the pain of having her soul ripped apart still lingered in every inch of her form.

She was unwilling to accept it, but she was also afraid. She had only just learned that she hadn't died by accident. She had finally found someone who could see her. And now she couldn't even leave the castle?

Lu Chenzhou didn't give her time to process her emotions. He added coldly, "Don't touch that door again."

Shen Zhixia gripped her skirt hem and slowly nodded.

It wasn't acceptance. It was that she finally understood clearly—the gravel path outside wasn't a road for now. It was a blade that would shred her soul.

Lu Chenzhou turned to leave. Shen Zhixia suddenly called out to him.

"Why did you help me?"

Lu Chenzhou paused mid-step but didn't turn around.

"Because you haven't turned into a vengeful ghost yet."

He walked away after saying that, leaving Shen Zhixia sitting alone by the threshold.

Shen Zhixia watched his retreating back, then looked at the world beyond the castle gate. The answer was still out there, just out of reach. But the hand that had pressed down on her shoulder a moment ago was real. In the darkness, at least one person hadn't treated her as something to be suppressed.

She grabbed the doorframe and stood up. She didn't step outside again.

She turned and walked deeper into the castle. When she passed the sealed staircase, she stopped and stared at the crack in the door.

Black mist was still seeping out, but less than before.

Shen Zhixia recalled what Lu Chenzhou had said—there was a source of resentment inside the castle, and that source was separate from her.

What could it be?

Just as she was about to move closer, she suddenly heard footsteps behind her.

Shen Zhixia turned and saw a staff member walking over with a walkie-talkie, muttering something into it.

She instinctively stepped aside, but the staff member walked straight through her.

Shen Zhixia froze for a moment, then smiled bitterly.

Right. She was a ghost. Living people couldn't see her.

Only Lu Chenzhou could.

She watched the staff member walk away, then looked at the film crew busy outside the castle.

Lu Chenzhou stood in the middle of the crowd, talking to the director with a perfectly measured, gentle smile on his face.

But Shen Zhixia knew that smile didn't reach his eyes.

She recalled the look in his eyes when he had crouched in front of her—that calm, restrained gaze, and something else she couldn't quite name.

As if he had known she would get into trouble. As if he had been ready to save her all along.

Shen Zhixia shook her head, casting the thought aside.

She couldn't dwell on that now. She needed to figure out why she was trapped here, and why someone had locked away her memories.

She turned and headed for the second floor of the castle, planning to check the balcony where she had fallen back then.

But the moment she reached the staircase, she heard a faint click behind her.

She spun around. Black mist burst from the crack of the sealed stairway door, shooting straight toward the film crew's camera. The lens twisted violently, aiming into the depths of the castle, and the entire device began to shake.

"What's going on? The camera moved on its own?" the director's voice rang out.

Shen Zhixia watched helplessly as the black mist nearly engulfed the entire hall. Lu Chenzhou had already walked in quickly.

His steps were light. He walked over to the camera, bent down, and glanced at the bracket joint. "Did this unit get damp in the morning rain?"

Before the assistant could answer, he shifted his body to block the view. His left thumb brushed the black sandalwood beads at his sleeve in an almost imperceptible motion.

The black mist that had burrowed into the lens froze abruptly, pressed back into the stairway by an invisible force. The camera stopped shaking, but a faint ring of black stain remained on the lens. As he lowered his hand, a crack appeared on one of the beads, and his face paled for an instant—but he immediately masked it with a warm smile.

"Teacher Lu?" The director approached.

"The bracket is loose." Lu Chenzhou hid the cracked bead into his sleeve, his tone steady. "Stop using this camera position. Don't point it at the stairway."

"But just now—"

"The hall is cold and damp. Equipment getting affected is normal." Lu Chenzhou cut him off. "Take a ten-minute break." Though still doubtful, the director nodded.

The crew gradually left the castle hall, leaving only Lu Chenzhou standing alone.

Shen Zhixia looked at him, unsure what to say.

Lu Chenzhou turned to face her.

"You saw it?"

Shen Zhixia nodded.

"That black mist wasn't coming for you." Lu Chenzhou walked to the sealed stairway door and stared at the crack. "It's looking for an exit."

Shen Zhixia followed and stood beside him.

"Looking for an exit?"

"Yes." Lu Chenzhou crouched down and traced a finger lightly along the edge of the door crack. "What's locked behind this door is more dangerous than you think."

Shen Zhixia recalled the image of the black mist burrowing into the camera. Her heart tightened.

"Then what do we do?"

Lu Chenzhou didn't answer immediately. He stood up, glanced outside the castle, then back at Shen Zhixia.

"The lock on you isn't just trapping you. It's also suppressing whatever is behind that door." He said. "The more you try to leave the castle, the tighter the lock pulls, and the easier the resentment behind the door leaks out."

Shen Zhixia's eyes widened.

"So when I tried to leave just now—"

"Yes." Lu Chenzhou cut her off. "Your lock and that door are connected. When you move, it moves."

Shen Zhixia lowered her head, looking at her hands.

Her palms had returned to normal, but she could still feel the tearing pain from earlier.

"Then I can never leave?"

Lu Chenzhou was silent for a few seconds.

"Not necessarily," he said. "But I need to figure out what's locked behind that door first before I can find a way to undo the lock on you."

Shen Zhixia bit her lip and said nothing.

She finally understood now—she wasn't just trapped in the castle. She had been used as part of a seal.

"Don't wander off," Lu Chenzhou said. "I'll find a way to get you out. But until then, you need to listen to me."

Shen Zhixia nodded.

She had no other choice.

Lu Chenzhou turned to leave. Shen Zhixia suddenly called out to him.

"How did you make that black mist disappear just now?"

Lu Chenzhou paused mid-step but didn't turn around.

"You don't need to know."

He walked away after saying that, leaving Shen Zhixia standing alone before the sealed stairway door.

Shen Zhixia watched his back, then looked at the black mist seeping through the door crack.

The black mist had diminished significantly, but it hadn't truly disappeared. It pulsed slowly along the gap, as if waiting for something to stir it again.

She didn't step any closer.

That single step earlier had been enough to make her understand—the castle wasn't just a cage that trapped her. The crimson patterns beneath the threshold, the shattered shadow, the camera that suddenly went wild, and the resentment leaking from the sealed stairway—all of it was tied together by the same invisible thread.

If she tried to leave, the lock tightened.

When the lock tightened, whatever was behind the door awakened.

Someone had stitched her soul to this castle, even pinning her most crucial memories into the lock. The more she tried to remember her murderer, the more the lock threatened to tear her apart.

Shen Zhixia looked down at her shadow. It had reattached to her feet, but it was paler than before, its edges lined with fine cracks, as if it would shatter again at the slightest touch.

For the first time, fear settled in.

Not fear that she was already dead—but fear that if she kept acting so recklessly, she would lose even the chance to prove how she had died. She didn't want to become something that only banged against doors, nursed resentment, and was eventually consumed by it. She needed to remember, to find evidence, to make the person hidden in that rainy night ten years ago pay.

But she couldn't do it alone.

Outside the castle, the commotion of wrapping up for the day began. Crew members pushed equipment carts past the hall. The director was still quietly urging people to check the camera positions. Lu Chenzhou stood among the crowd, still wearing that perfectly measured gentle smile, as if he hadn't just shattered a bead and suppressed a mass of black mist.

Only Shen Zhixia saw that his left hand, hanging at his side inside his sleeve, never fully relaxed.

She suddenly realized—every time he acted, it came at a cost. And worse, he couldn't let anyone see it.

Only after the crowd dispersed did Lu Chenzhou turn his head. His gaze crossed the empty hall and landed on the cracked shadow at her feet.

"Don't touch the threshold tonight. Don't touch that door either." His voice was low, just loud enough for her to hear. "I'll find out where the lock was placed."

Shen Zhixia lifted her head.

"Can I still get out?"

Lu Chenzhou paused.

"Yes," he said. "But not by brute force."

This time, Shen Zhixia didn't ask how long she would have to wait. She just watched him turn around again, walk back into the midst of the director and the machines, take a script like the most ordinary award-winning actor, and casually angle the camera away from the sealed stairway door.

The light in the hall fell on his shoulders, but it couldn't reach the darkness deep in the door crack.

Shen Zhixia stood in the shadows, understanding clearly for the first time—she needed Lu Chenzhou.

And under the watch of countless cameras and living eyes, Lu Chenzhou had to find the key to her lock.