Chapter Fifty-One: Give It Back to Me

The mansion truly lived up to its name. It was a grand residence decorated in Western style; the first sight upon entering was an extravagant hall, dazzling with lavish chandeliers casting a cold, intense light. The high walls on all sides threw deep, somber shadows across the plush carpet. We walked through a wide, but eerily empty corridor, where the eyes of celebrities immortalized in famous paintings seemed to pierce into one's soul.

As our group entered the inner chambers, a chill instinctively ran down my spine. Ever since stepping into the mansion, I’d had the constant feeling that someone was watching me—an insidious, uncanny presence that sent a shudder through my heart.

“Feel free to look around. I’ll go make some tea for everyone,” said Xia Liang, dressed lightly and looking a bit embarrassed—perhaps wanting an excuse to go change her clothes.

We didn’t stand on ceremony and began to wander about the vast house. Given the size, and the suspicion that the place might be haunted, Lao Liao was especially cautious. “Let’s split up to look around. If anything happens, shout or make some noise. We’ll regroup here afterward.”

Ah Hao nodded, leading his corpse puppet straight up to the second floor.

I was drawn toward the study on the first floor, its dim light beckoning. The room was arranged in a classical style, the bookshelves lined with finely bound classics from East and West. I picked a couple of books at random, and as I looked up, I accidentally bumped into a shelf. One of the books tucked under my arm slipped and fell to the floor, so I bent down to pick it up.

At that very moment, the lights in the room began to flicker unpredictably, flashing on and off!

Through the wavering illumination, I caught a glimpse of a shadow darting by—a figure moving with grotesque, twisted motions, sending a chill through my bones.

But with the lights suddenly dim, it was impossible to see clearly who or what had flashed past.

As the room grew ever darker, I edged cautiously toward the door, steadying myself on the wall and furniture, inching toward the light outside. Suddenly, my hand brushed against something wet and sticky. I stumbled and fell hard to the floor.

At that instant, I felt something draw abruptly near, pressing close to my back. A low, hoarse voice sounded behind me.

“Give it back…”

“Give it back…”

The voice was so rasping and gloomy it chilled my blood. Then, a hand clamped suddenly onto my chest!

I fell backward in fright, crashing into a floor lamp beside the desk, which toppled over with a thunderous clatter. The light snapped back on.

“What’s going on?” Lao Liao rushed in moments later, frowning at the books scattered across the floor and the overturned lamp.

“This house… there’s something wrong with it.”

Without another word, Lao Liao and I headed upstairs. Now that we were sure the house was haunted, splitting up would only be more dangerous. Our top priority was to find Ah Hao and Xia Liang before anything else happened.

On the landing, we found Ah Hao pressed against the wall, his expression grave as he stared into the pitch-black living room. His corpse puppet stood in front of him in a protective stance, sweat beading on his forehead as his eyes locked on something ahead.

“What’s wrong, Ah Hao?”

“There’s a ghost… in the mirror.”

Looking closely, I saw that beside the television in the upstairs living room was a massive floor mirror, over two meters tall.

How odd—who would install such a large mirror right in the most prominent spot of the living room? Anyone with any knowledge of feng shui knows that mirrors are especially sensitive, with many taboos: never face a door, never face a bathroom. This house seemed to violate every rule in the book.

Where there’s an anomaly, there’s a secret. Xia Liang must be hiding something from us.

“Why is Xia Liang so quiet? Could something have happened to her?”

“This isn’t good!”

We hurried to the door of Xia Liang’s bedroom, but no matter how much we knocked, there was no response.

“What do we do? Kick it down?”

Lao Liao nodded at Ah Hao, who instantly understood. He moved us aside, braced himself, and delivered a powerful kick to the door.

You could tell he was used to trekking through wild, haunted places—the force of his kick sent the lock flying, and the door burst open, revealing the entire room.

What we saw inside shocked us.

Mirrors of every size hung everywhere—in the headboard, on the wardrobe, on the desk, even on the ceiling. There must have been at least thirty or fifty, all angled at the same spot—the bed where Xia Liang lay.

But what was on the bed made our jaws drop. Xia Liang was lying there completely naked, a man moving atop her. The two of them panted heavily, and the scene was reflected and multiplied in every mirror, making it even more bizarre.

Startled by our sudden intrusion, the man yanked the quilt over them both, but didn’t stop what he was doing.

“Please, would you all wait outside? There are things I’ll explain to you soon,” Xia Liang’s weak voice came from under the covers. I glanced at Lao Liao, who gestured for us to leave, so we stepped out.

“Lao Liao, what’s going on with Xia Liang? Even if she wanted to do that, why tonight of all nights?”

Lao Liao stroked his chin, frowning deeply. “I don't think that's it. I said the first time we met that Xia Liang’s elemental balance is pure yang, and her fate is career-driven. She isn’t the kind of person to give in to wanton desire. Besides, she’s educated and polite—she wouldn’t lose control knowing we’re in the house. There’s something supernatural at play here.”

Ah Hao spoke up quietly. “That man… I feel like I know him.”

The noise in the room cut off our speculation. The sound of a lock being twisted came from inside, and Xia Liang emerged fully dressed. Ah Hao tried to peer in, but Xia Liang quickly locked the door behind her. Yet in that brief moment, I caught a glimpse of the man’s bare back—a strange swastika-like symbol was branded there!

That same bizarre mark—it had also appeared on the villa walls in Lijing Gardens. What could it mean?

“Miss Xia Liang, isn’t it time you told us the truth?”

She bit her lip, brushing the hair from her forehead. “Here’s what happened…”

It turned out, forty days ago Xia Liang had received direct orders from her company headquarters to stay in this mansion for forty-nine days. She’d done this sort of thing before, and the pay this time was a full million, with 300,000 paid in advance. Without hesitation, she moved in.

But someone had already taken up residence before her—Sun Xing.

“Impossible! My brother died three months ago! The autopsy was clear, I saw the body myself—don’t lie to me. Who is that man really?” Ah Hao grabbed Xia Liang’s shoulders, trembling with emotion.

According to her, the man was Sun Xing. They worked at the same company, and though she hadn’t known him well, she’d seen his pictures and videos—she could not have mistaken him. I signaled Ah Hao to calm down and let her finish.

Sun Xing, as it turned out, was also sent here by headquarters. They moved in a day apart, and together opened their assignment letters. The orders were almost identical, except for one odd detail: headquarters required that at night, both of them had to stay in the master bedroom on the second floor—the very room filled with uncanny mirrors.

A man and a woman alone in one room was awkward at first. Xia Liang took the bed, Sun Xing slept on the small sofa. Everything was peaceful.

Sun Xing was the kind of man most urban women would dream of—handsome, strong, and always ready to cook and clean. From the moment they moved in, Xia Liang hadn’t had to lift a finger around the house. Even her cold, career-driven heart slowly began to thaw. She was even grateful to the company for giving her this luxurious assignment—she could earn money, enjoy life, and have a perfect man by her side.

About twenty days passed, with another month left in the assignment. One night, Sun Xing made a candlelit dinner and confessed his feelings. That evening, they gave in to passion, heedless of the mirrors surrounding them—turning even that strangeness into a kind of bedroom game.

From then on, their days were filled with unrestrained intimacy, and even moments before we’d burst in, Sun Xing had been making those same demands on her.

“I love him. I can’t refuse. I enjoy this life,” Xia Liang said helplessly.

I could only shake my head. Both were adults, sharing a strange assignment, seeking comfort in each other—there was nothing more to be said.

But Ah Hao was having none of it. He pushed Xia Liang aside and kicked the door open again.

The lock, already broken from before, gave way easily. The room was silent and dark—no sign of the earlier brightness.

The corridor lights spilled in, reflecting in the many mirrors, multiplying the light into a ghostly green glow that slowly filled the room, making the scene utterly chilling.

Ah Hao saw the shadow of a man sitting motionless on the bed. The memory of his brother’s corpse in the morgue flashed through his mind, and fury surged within him.

“Who are you, pretending to be my brother, disturbing his rest in the afterlife? You’ll pay for what you’ve done!”

He rushed forward, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

The black silhouette of “Sun Xing” on the bed tilted its head, and spoke:

“Give it back…”

“Give it back…”