Whispers of the Mirror Realm

A Dark Night in Guangzhou's Old Town

The night was deep and heavy. The humid air of Guangzhou's old town carried the scent of damp stone and stagnant water.

At the end of a narrow alley, Jinquan Apartment stood in eerie silence—like a forgotten tomb.

Wen Zhiyi stood before the entrance, her fingers lightly brushing over the red characters on the seal. The stamp was faded, worn with time, yet the paper remained smooth, completely untouched.

This building had been sealed off for a year—but strangely, it still looked… well-maintained.

Behind her, the man shifted slightly. The hem of his black trench coat swayed gently in the night breeze. His voice was low and steady.

"Want to go in?"

Wen Zhiyi turned to meet Lin Xiao's gaze. His face, under the dim light, was sharp and cold. His dark eyes held a quiet intensity. A clean white cuff peeked out from beneath his sleeve, and between his fingers, he held a sleek black pen—his grip firm and controlled.

She smirked faintly. "What, do you have a better way?"

Lin Xiao said nothing. Instead, he casually pulled out his phone, opened the camera app, and aimed it at the seal.

On the screen, a faint glowing imprint appeared—something invisible to the naked eye. A symbol, blurred and incomplete, faintly shimmering as if it held a residual energy.

Wen Zhiyi's smirk faded slightly. "What is that?"

Lin Xiao studied the screen, his brows slightly furrowed. "A lingering trace of a feng shui ward." He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "You really dreamt of this place?"

Wen Zhiyi didn't answer. Instead, she lowered her gaze to the red agate bracelet on her wrist, rolling one bead between her fingers.

Then, without hesitation, she ripped the seal apart.

The moment the paper tore, an invisible tension snapped—like something had just been broken.

A faint gust of cold air seeped from within the building, carrying the scent of mildew and damp wood.

Lin Xiao's eyes darkened slightly. Then, he stepped forward and crossed the threshold.

Wen Zhiyi followed.

Behind them, the heavy iron door swung shut with a soft click.

They had entered the forgotten apartment.

Inside Jinquan Apartment

The lobby was dimly lit. The yellowed light flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the cracked tiles.

In the corner, a few old sofas sat gathering dust, a forgotten tea table resting in front of them.

But something was off.

The floor… was too clean.

No thick layer of dust. No signs of abandonment. It looked like someone had been maintaining the place.

Wen Zhiyi's fingers curled slightly. She took a step forward, the faint sound of her shoe brushing against the tile echoing in the empty hall.

"This place doesn't look like it's been abandoned for a year," she murmured.

Lin Xiao's gaze deepened. He approached the front desk, tapping his fingers lightly against the counter. Dust rose in a delicate swirl—yet his attention was elsewhere.

A logbook lay on the desk.

It was clean. Untouched by decay. Almost as if someone had flipped through it just yesterday.

He opened it. His eyes narrowed slightly.

The last entry was from exactly one year ago—the night the final tenant went missing.

Wen Zhiyi stepped closer, her gaze falling onto the page.

"Room 705. Resident: Wen Zhiyi."

Her breath hitched.

Her fingers trembled slightly. A wave of coldness spread through her chest.

"What…?"

Lin Xiao noticed her sudden change in expression and frowned. "What's wrong?"

Wen Zhiyi stared at the handwritten name in disbelief. Her voice was slightly hoarse.

"I… I never lived here."

In fact—she had never even seen this place in real life.

Lin Xiao's dark eyes studied her carefully. After a moment, he asked quietly, "Are you sure?"

Wen Zhiyi pressed her lips together. Her fingers curled into a fist.

"I dreamt of this place."

Lin Xiao remained silent, but his gaze grew more intent.

The lightbulb in the lobby suddenly flickered, emitting a sharp zzzt.

The temperature in the air seemed to drop.

A creeping sensation crawled up Wen Zhiyi's spine. She turned, her eyes landing on the far corner of the lobby—

Where an old full-length mirror stood.

Its surface was covered in dust, but faintly, she could see their reflections inside.

She frowned slightly and lifted a hand, reaching out to wipe the mirror clean—

And then she froze.

The reflection of herself… didn't move.

Her breath caught. Her fingers halted in midair.

Lin Xiao sensed her sudden stillness and followed her gaze.

In the mirror, two figures stood side by side. But—

Wen Zhiyi's reflection remained unchanged.

It hadn't followed her movement.

It was still standing still, locked in its previous pose—as if it existed in a different space.

"Don't move." Lin Xiao's voice was low, calm, but unmistakably serious.

Wen Zhiyi's fingertips twitched.

Then, inside the mirror—

Her reflection slowly lifted its head.

And smiled.

A strange, twisted smile.

Wen Zhiyi's pulse pounded violently. Her breathing turned shallow.

"Lin Xiao…" Her voice was unsteady.

Lin Xiao moved instantly.

He reached out, gripping her wrist firmly, and pulled her behind him.

His hand was steady, warm. Wen Zhiyi stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden movement.

Then—

A faint, cracking sound came from the mirror.

"You… have arrived…"

A whisper. Cold. Hollow. As if something was speaking from within the glass.

Wen Zhiyi's fingers turned icy. Her voice dropped. "Who… is speaking?"

Lin Xiao didn't respond.

He reached into his coat.

Pulled out a faded yellow talisman.

And pressed it between his fingers.

The edges of the paper ignited, a small flame flickering at the corners.

Wen Zhiyi's eyes widened.

"You—"

So he wasn't just a folklore researcher.

But Lin Xiao's face remained calm. Expression unreadable.

With a controlled motion, he pressed the burning talisman onto the mirror's surface.

A single word—muttered in an ancient, cryptic tone.

And then—

CRACK!

The mirror shattered.

Sharp shards of glass burst outward.

Wen Zhiyi instinctively gasped, but before she could react—

Lin Xiao's arm wrapped around her, pulling her against him.

The glass rained down around them, shattering on the floor with a crisp, chilling sound.

The scent of smoke and burning paper lingered in the air.

Wen Zhiyi's breath came in short gasps.

The warmth of his hold was unfamiliar—unexpected. His scent, faintly woodsy with a trace of ink, brushed against her skin.

For a brief moment, she felt her heartbeat skip.

Lin Xiao released her. His voice was indifferent, as if nothing had happened.

"You okay?"

Wen Zhiyi tilted her head slightly, her gaze meeting his.

For the first time, she found herself thinking—

This man was far more dangerous than she had imagined.

Who exactly was he?