Recently, a major news story broke: a mountaineering club was involved in an inexplicable incident of mutual slaughter at the summit of Phoenix Mountain. The scene was gruesome, and even the survivors seemed to have lost their minds, incessantly muttering phrases like "It's mine, it's mine." They had completely lost their sanity and had to be sent to psychiatric hospitals.
The unluckiest of them all was Luo Xiaoluo. She had simply gone to sleep one night, only to wake up and step out of her tent to a horrifying sight of dismembered limbs and corpses. Before she could even process the shock, she was taken in by the police for questioning.
"I really don’t know anything! Everyone was fine the day before… I just woke up and found everyone like this!"
No matter how much they questioned her, Luo Xiaoluo couldn’t provide any useful information. Her demeanor didn’t suggest she was lying, and with Xia Miao pulling some strings to get her out, Luo Xiaoluo didn’t stay long at the police station before being picked up by Xia Miao.
Sitting in the car driven by the Xia family’s chauffeur, Luo Xiaoluo was still shaken, biting her nails in deep confusion and lingering fear.
Then, a card was handed to her.
Luo Xiaoluo looked up.
Xia Miao, as impeccably dressed and haughty as ever, held the card casually, her tone languid. "It’s almost season change, and you’re still wearing the same old clothes? As my best friend, you can’t afford to lower my standards. Here, go buy some new outfits to keep up appearances."
Clutching the card, Luo Xiaoluo teared up in gratitude. "Yes, Young Miss!"
The terror she had just experienced suddenly seemed far less significant under the soothing influence of money.
Luo Xiaoluo knew she’d made the right choice clinging to Xia Miao’s coattails.
A sudden thought struck her, and she tightened her grip on the card. "Oh, Miao Miao, I didn’t mention that Fu Lan was with us on the mountain trip."
Xia Miao smiled. "No need to bring up Fu Lan. He’s just a useless fool who can’t do anything right and loves causing trouble. He’s a nobody—no point mentioning him."
She then took Luo Xiaoluo’s hand, her smile widening into something radiant. "Didn’t you say you wanted to be a designer? I had my family reach out to the head designer at Dior. You can discuss your ideas with him and get his feedback."
"Really!?"
Xia Miao chuckled. "Have I ever lied to you?"
Overjoyed, Luo Xiaoluo hugged her. "Thank you so much, Miao Miao!"
As for Fu Lan? Luo Xiaoluo had completely forgotten about him.
The investigation into the mountaineering club incident eventually hit a dead end, leaving it classified as an unsolved mystery.
But many young people disagreed. According to collected reports, similar outbreaks of madness occurred periodically in different locations.
Some died, others went insane—without exception, these incidents revolved around one person.
But who was that person?
No one could say.
It became an urban legend, something straight out of a supernatural horror story.
Not long before, another bloody incident had surfaced—the "Bloody Apartment" case.
Inside a cramped rental unit, the stench of blood hung thick in the air.
Lin Baobao lay in a pool of blood. The natural strength disparity between men and women made it impossible for her to overpower Leng Jingshen, so she was the first to fall.
Even with a stab wound in her chest, grievously injured, she clung to the last shreds of life, reaching weakly toward the young man.
"No… He’s mine… mine alone…"
Leng Jingshen was drenched in blood, his face marred by scratches from her nails. Though injured, he was in better shape than Lin Baobao.
Before, he had found Lin Baobao annoying—especially her relentless pursuit of him, which he considered his greatest nuisance.
Later, she changed. She no longer chased after him, as if she had moved on, finding new interests. Strangely, Leng Jingshen began noticing her, his gaze drawn to her against his will.
Now, the way he looked at her had changed again—his eyes filled with hostility, as if she were a hated enemy, a thief trying to steal his most precious treasure.
Lin Baobao could feel her life slipping away. The terror of impending death slowly clawed back what little rationality she had left.
As the madness faded, the first thing she felt was a piercing heartache.
Even though she had resolved to keep her distance from Leng Jingshen after her rebirth—to treat him as a stranger—being stared at with such cold indifference still made her heart ache unbearably.
"Leng… Leng Jingshen…"
She had so much more to say, but her words were cut short by Leng Jingshen’s merciless kick. Her body rolled limply before collapsing, motionless.
That single kick had snapped her neck.
Until her last breath, Lin Baobao couldn’t understand. She had been given a second chance at life—wasn’t that a sign from fate that she could fix her past regrets and turn her life around?
Why, then, had she still ended up dying like a joke?
"You did well."
At the sound of the boy’s voice, Leng Jingshen snapped out of his daze. His face lit up with fervor as he scrambled closer. "Fu Lan, I did good, right? Believe me, I’ll do even better next time!"
To please the boy, he would kill or burn without hesitation.
In just a short time, the severed head had regrown an entire body.
Wrapped in a blanket, the boy lounged lazily on the sofa, watching the bloody scene with amusement. Seemingly entertained, he twirled his phone and grinned. "Sure. Assuming you can walk out of prison first."
Fu Lan kicked the kneeling boy aside like a dog. Standing over him, he glanced down with disdain, malice gleaming in his eyes.
"Idiot."
"Don’t leave, Fu Lan! You can’t abandon me!"
Leng Jingshen reached out desperately, but his fingers grasped only air. The boy walked away without a backward glance, leaving him drowning in the agony of rejection and fury.
"Fu Lan!!"
Outside, police sirens wailed.
For a brief moment, Leng Jingshen’s mind cleared.
He stared at his blood-soaked hands, then at Lin Baobao’s lifeless body.
His eyes widened in horror, his entire body freezing stiff.
What… had he done?