Chapter 54: Crimson Clues

This residential complex has two entrances and exits, one of which has already been closed, while the other remains open. The security guard at the sentry booth was still awake; Qi Yan hurried over to inquire, “Sir, have you seen a tall young man in a black long-sleeved T-shirt leave? Within the last half hour or so—oh, he lives near Building C7.”

The security guard thought for a moment. “I think I did.”

“Do you know which direction he went?” Xu Dan pressed anxiously.

“No idea, I didn’t notice.”

“Thank you…”

Qi Yan shook his head in disappointment. After stepping out of the complex gate, he looked both ways. This public housing was situated by the West Second Ring Road. Beyond the gate was a wide avenue, with a few cars still passing by at this hour. However, the surrounding area was vast, and the city center with its crowds was quite far away.

Xu Dan was pacing in agitation, like an ant on a hot pan. “What do we do now? He left on his own, and there’s just the two of us out here in the middle of the night—how are we supposed to find him?”

Qi Yan was lost in thought. At times like this, one couldn’t just wander aimlessly. Without any clue about his direction, searching blindly would be utterly pointless.

Damn it… Wasn’t Dong Ye clearly awake earlier? Yet now, as if possessed, he wandered off on his own, and Xu Dan had been rendered unconscious as well. Clearly, this matter was just beginning.

Even though the streetlights shone brightly, trying to find someone whose phone couldn’t be reached was nearly impossible—especially when, more than likely, he’d been driven away by a spirit possessing him.

Qi Yan forced himself to stay calm, steadying his thoughts. He mustn’t panic like Xu Dan, or they’d only waste more time.

If Xu Dan’s account was accurate, then it was certainly the little girl in red at work. Just as in the story, once she set her sights on her prey, she could control a person’s mind, making them harm themselves.

For now, it didn’t matter why the ghost’s target had shifted to Dong Ye; perhaps her aim was murder. Still, there was a question: now that Xu Dan, the only one who could interfere, was out of the way, why force Dong Ye to leave home? Why not just kill him on the spot?

At least in the story, the girl who was killed by the ghost died in her own home. But again, that was just a story. No matter how closely reality now mirrored fiction, it could only serve as a reference—one couldn’t analyze a real situation by treating a ghost story as a blueprint.

Qi Yan stood at the entrance of the complex, pondering deeply. Xu Dan, seeing him unmoving for so long, grew even more anxious. “Hey, weren’t you the one who said we should come out to look? Then let’s go! Otherwise, why don’t we split up and each search the places he usually goes?”

“Split up and search his usual spots?” Qi Yan looked at her helplessly. “Do you think Dong Ye is just a runaway boy? Or your sulking boyfriend after a quarrel? He’s been…”

He wanted to stress the point further, but glancing at her tear-bright, misty eyes, he couldn’t go on and fell silent.

Once he lowered his head, though, he caught a glimpse of something odd—on the asphalt beneath the streetlight, a thin, wavy thread lay almost unseen. Only by staring intently could one notice it. And it wasn’t just a short length; this red thread stretched far into the distance, with no end in sight.

Qi Yan bent down and gathered it into his hand, giving it a gentle tug. Its length seemed immeasurable, extending from somewhere unknown, with neither beginning nor end.

The thread felt impossibly delicate—if not for holding it in his palm, he wouldn’t have sensed its presence at all.

Xu Dan eyed him with suspicion. “What are you looking at in your hand?”

At her words, Qi Yan extended his hand. “Can you… see this fine thread here?”

Xu Dan leaned in close, scrutinizing his palm, but finally shook her head in confusion. “No… there’s nothing there.”

She couldn’t see it? Although it looked like ordinary sewing thread and would be hard to spot under these circumstances, Qi Yan had already lifted it against his palm—the red of the thread should stand out against his skin.

This strange occurrence gave Qi Yan a faint flicker of hope. “You really can’t see it? Good—that’s just as I thought.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Come on—just follow me!” Qi Yan didn’t explain further. He strode ahead, raising the red thread slightly. One end stretched back into the complex, the other led out toward the main road. Naturally, he followed the external lead.

Though Xu Dan was unsure, she had no choice but to keep up.

Qi Yan moved quickly, but didn’t run. He let his hand hang low, curling the thread in his palm. As he walked, the line on the ground would lift and follow, so long as it didn’t vanish mid-journey. This was their only clue—the truest sense of the word “clue.”

This red thread was no ordinary cotton. First, Xu Dan couldn’t see it. Second, it was impossibly long. Third, the story’s core element was the red thread. Fourth, it stretched from within the complex itself. The possibility of coincidence was nil… This was the ghost’s trail!

The two of them followed the sidewalk beside the road for over ten minutes. Qi Yan couldn’t help but think it was taking too long—when would it end?

By now, the street was deserted but for the two of them.

They walked on, even passing a long car tunnel without stopping, hugging the edge as they pressed forward.

The West Second Ring Road was like this—a provincial highway connecting the city to its outlying districts. By day, buses were rare; by night, mostly cargo trucks and pickups passed through. Beyond the road lay either empty fields or massive warehouses and power stations, looming in the darkness.

Another twenty minutes passed. It was after 4 a.m. Both were exhausted, but their anxiety made them strangely alert.

Until now, the red thread had led them straight ahead, but at last it began to veer to the right, slanting off the road.

Qi Yan looked into the distance. About a hundred meters ahead, the sidewalk reached an intersection—a long, flat bridge spanning a riverbed that had been dry for years.

Beyond the bridge, there were no more streetlights—just utter darkness, where only the hulking silhouettes of large buildings could be seen.

“What’s over there?” Qi Yan stopped, pointing ahead.

Xu Dan followed his gesture, frowned, and thought for a moment. “I think that’s the Jintang Cement Factory. Why?”

Qi Yan nodded, took a deep breath, and shook out his aching legs. “You stay here. I’ll go look for him myself…”

Xu Dan, seeing that Qi Yan meant to leave her on this deserted roadside, quickly protested, “No, I’d better go with you. I don’t want anything happening to you, either—two people are better than one…”

Though she’d tried to reassure herself before, the truth was, if this really was the work of a ghost, waiting here alone was far worse than following along.

Qi Yan glanced back at her, weighed his options, and didn’t object further. After all, Dong Ye was her boyfriend—he had no right to stop her from searching. Besides, their adversary was a ghost, and now that he held this endless red thread, if he left Xu Dan alone here, who knew what disaster might befall her.

He certainly didn’t believe that a passing car would stop to help if something happened, nor could he guess what other tricks the ghost might have. Such beings always wielded uncanny powers.