She must be the female lead. So it was her who just woke up the male lead, pulling him from his nightmare of the car crash—that explained the earlier jump scare.
Soft, airy music played in the background as the male lead rubbed his temples tiredly and reassured her that he was fine. He, too, was handsome—by facial features alone, the two were equally matched in looks. Yet for some reason, Ao Qingxue felt he wasn’t as captivating as the female lead.
The two beautiful figures embraced and went back to sleep. Theoretically, this should have been a warm, tender moment—but for some reason, it felt profoundly unsettling. Every detail in the shot seemed to whisper something was wrong:
The female lead’s long hair draped over him like a rope, the lighting was cold and murky, a potted plant’s shadow writhed strangely in the corner, the camera angles were uncomfortably close, and from time to time, a voyeuristic or looming perspective would flash past…
All of these scenes were constructed by the Dreamweaver using their spiritual force. The level of detail in Eldritch God’s background and the deliberate pacing of the cuts—this was clearly not something a mere novice could pull off.
The audience, too, gradually sobered from their jokes and began watching with genuine attention.
[The set design feels suffocating… you don’t see this style often.]
[The BGM is strange too. Did the Dreamweaver compose it themselves?]
[It’s giving me chills…]
Ao Qingxue tried to lighten the mood as she explained: “This Dreamweaver’s using a reverse-chronology approach. The crash already happened in the opening—now the leads are just like the synopsis said, heading off for their honeymoon.”
Myth-inspired romances tended to follow a formula: an ordinary protagonist encounters a god by chance, gains the god’s favor, is doted upon endlessly, and fulfills all the daydreams of young men and women. It was cliché, but it catered to its audience and never went out of style.
The viewers had tuned in with that same expectation.
Eldritch God? What’s so scary about that? No matter how bad a god was, they always treated the leads well—and most works never truly showed the god doing anything bad.
Morning arrived. The couple had barely slept before waking again. The male lead had dark circles under his eyes, clearly restless, while the female lead looked perfectly fine.
The short film was set roughly in the previous star era, when humans still lived on Earth. Because of the car crash trauma, the male lead didn’t dare drive, but oddly enough, the female lead—who had been the severely injured one—seemed completely unaffected. So she drove instead.
As they conversed, their backstories gradually unfolded to the audience.
The male lead was a university student majoring in antiques. He met his now-wife during his first year.
She was gentle, lovely, beautiful, and exceptional—a woman whose love he considered himself lucky to have won. Their relationship had been simple and warm, just one of countless young couples.
The only major incident was the car crash during their first year after graduation. The female lead had bled heavily, entered critical care, and even received a notice of impending death.
By some stroke of fate, she survived. The ordeal only deepened their love, and the male lead decided to marry her.
Their honeymoon destination was an old castle. On the way there, the male lead dozed off again, plagued by nightmares—this time, he dreamt of being engulfed by a mass of thick, black sludge, unable to breathe.
[This must be the “gothic castle” from the description? Wow, it’s so unusual!]
[Such an old castle… but look, a rose garden! Gorgeous!]
[Hehe, now the romance part should start, right?]
By the time they arrived, it was dusk. The castle’s spires stabbed at the sky, its weathered walls smothered by creeping ivy. In the front garden, roses and briars bloomed in a defiant blood-red blaze.
“Wasn’t the setting winter?” Ao Qingxue muttered. “How are the flowers so vibrant?”
The viewers didn’t mind—they were too fascinated by the interior shots that followed:
[Did the Dreamweaver really imagine all this? Gothic style’s been lost for ages, but this totally fits the “gloomy and ornate” vibe!]
[What’s this Dreamweaver’s background? A historical restoration expert?]
[But why would the couple pick this place for their honeymoon? Look at the dust! It’s clearly not a regularly rented castle for newlyweds.]
The castle had been booked by the female lead, who said the estate came with a housekeeper.
When the old housekeeper appeared, the entire chat cursed aloud—
She was a default starter model.
Worse, it looked intentionally downgraded—stringy silver hair, hunched back, a waxy, crudely molded face where each wrinkle was cut like a chisel mark. When she smiled and spoke, her movements were stiff, like a puppet:
“Wel—come—hon—ored—guests—”
Goosebumps raced up Ao Qingxue’s arms. She blurted, “Dreamweaver, this is not where you should be cutting costs!”
[Ahhh this is the first time a default model’s scared me THIS bad!]
[WTF! Is this Dreamweaver just messing with us? Second scare already!]
[If I were the male lead I’d run for my life right now. Don’t you dare come closer!!]
The viewers didn’t know it, but there was a term for this: the uncanny valley.
Normally, humans felt affinity toward human-like objects. But when something was almost—but not quite—human, it triggered fear instead.
Especially here, where the leads looked fully real—then suddenly, a “not-quite-human” figure appeared, making the contrast even sharper.
Yet the leads acted as if nothing was wrong. The female lead even shook the housekeeper’s hand politely.
Nothing happened that first night. After cleaning and settling in, the couple went to bed.
Cut to midnight. The male lead tossed restlessly, caught in another nightmare. The camera pulled back—he was alone in bed. His phone on the nightstand showed the time:
3:00 a.m.
The camera sank lower, lower—so close the carpet fibers filled the frame—then slid toward the crack beneath the door, peering out.
Ao Qingxue joked, “This angle makes me feel like a bug crawling in the doorframe…”
She had started to adjust to this Dreamweaver’s style, her nerves tense in anticipation. She leaned back instinctively—but when the shot finally revealed itself, she still shrieked and bolted upright—
On the spiral staircase below, only a single candle flickered. From that faint light, a twisted, towering shadow stretched across the wall—its head crowned with writhing, tentacle-like shapes.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the hollow halls. “It” was climbing the stairs, slowly, toward the room where the male lead slept!
[AAAAAAAAAAAH!]
[Mom help me I almost cried!]
[So scary, I can’t watch this alone!]
[I just threw my mug!!]
[What IS that thing?? Is this the “Eldritch God” from the title? I thought this was a romance!!]
[No wonder the castle felt so ominous—there’s a monster here!!]
Though horror wasn’t a popular genre in the interstellar era, the concept of “monsters” wasn’t foreign.
Usually, they were just obstacles for the lovers to overcome—one heroically defeating the beast and winning their partner’s heart.
[Where’s the female lead?! Hurry up and save him!!]
[Male lead, wake up! Get up!!]
[I’m dying of tension… huh?! Why’s the camera back in the room? It’s worse when you can’t see it!!]
The livestream chat was a mess of nerves as the male lead slept on.
Thud… thud… The footsteps drew closer—then stopped abruptly outside the door.
Dead silence.
Ao Qingxue held her breath, her toes curling.
“Is… any…one… there?…”
A knock rattled the door, the voice neither male nor female—thick, wet, with faint clicking and squelching sounds, like mandibles scraping.
[I’m under my blanket now, help!!]
[What if it’s checking whether he’s asleep? What happens if he’s awake?!]
[I’m peeking with one eye while covering half my screen aaah!!]
No answer. After a long moment, the footsteps receded.
Who knows how much later, the male lead stirred, bleary-eyed. Not seeing anyone beside him, he yawned and muttered, “No bathroom in here? That’s inconvenient…”
“Oh my god, why NOW of all times?!” Ao Qingxue cried, her accent slipping.
The soundtrack sharpened—a black tendril twitched at the corner of the stairway—
The monster hadn’t left at all. It had only pretended to, to lure him out!
As the male lead headed to the restroom, a warped shadow twisted behind him. One glance back and he would see it. It was testing him.
The audience screamed anew, some even exiting the stream—yet more poured in, lured by the spreading word-of-mouth.
As it turned out, horror made everyone a quick learner of the ancient technique: barrage shield mode.
Ao Qingxue had never seen her chat this active before. The flood of comments blanketing her screen for tens of minutes straight was something only top-tier streamers ever experienced.
By now, the mood was clear: the most common word in everyone’s mind wasn’t “romance,” but “terror.”
—Could it be that this Dreamweaver’s theme was… horror?
Ao Qingxue could hardly believe it.
No Dreamweaver had ever made a work with horror as the main theme—or at least, she had never heard of one. Literature and art were meant to be beautiful, warm, to give people rich emotions and strength. That was what everyone believed.
Her pulse hadn’t calmed since the opening. Instinctively, she wanted to close it—the dread was almost unbearable—but when her finger hovered over the “×,” she hesitated.
This Eldritch God… was actually kind of compelling.
She was scared, but she couldn’t stop watching. How strange!
Thankfully, the male lead’s midnight “bathroom trip” ended safely. He drowsily shuffled back to bed.
The silence grew thick enough to hear a pin drop. This time, the monster truly left.
Yet moments later, the male lead opened his eyes in the dark, clutching his chest in quiet alarm. The faint light from the bedside lamp revealed cold sweat on his forehead.
“Huh?” Ao Qingxue and some viewers caught the implication—he knew?
Wow… what kind of iron nerves was that?!
Before they could react further, the man silently turned his head to the empty side of the bed.
The screen faded to black. A line appeared: [End of Part One].
The barrage froze for a moment, then exploded:
[What do you mean “End”?!]
[The female lead’s missing, the monster’s here—so she is the Eldritch God!!]
[So the Dreamweaver really meant an actual evil god?!]
V059 Star.
When the system saw Shang Jingyan’s finished work, it nearly crashed on the spot:
【……】
Shang Jingyan, however, was righteous:
【My work fits “married first, love later,” and it fits your requirements. What’s wrong with that?】
【But…】 the system faltered.
【Don’t believe me? Check the Heartbeat Value.】
Sure enough, the counter had already passed 10—reaching 15. In just one hour, Shang Jingyan had exceeded her target.
Keep in mind, her starting point was –100. That meant 115 viewers had their hearts race like crazy!
Across the entire interstellar network, no other newcomer likely had a better score.
The system was speechless:
【…………】
This isn’t what I meant by “heartbeat,” and you know it!
