NFM Chapter 17

Drip, drip.

The bathroom was filled with mist as Ye Keke tightened the faucet, drying her hair as she walked out.

“Ni Xiao? I’m done, you can come in now.”

As she spoke, she turned the bathroom doorknob counterclockwise. Behind her wet silhouette was the bathroom mirror, still fogged with condensation.

Reflected in the mirror, obscured by the mist, was a pale figure.

“Ni Xiao?”

A cold breeze swept into the warm bathroom. The room, which should have been occupied by Ni Xiao, was now empty.

She shivered inexplicably and was about to step out when she tripped over something.

Looking down, she saw a pair of red high heels, kicked askew and scattered at the bathroom door.

“That’s strange, I remember putting them by the door.”

She muttered to herself but didn’t dwell on it. Glancing at the clock, it was almost midnight. Ye Keke dried her hair and sat at the vanity to blow-dry it.

Perhaps due to the high power, as soon as she plugged in the hairdryer, the voltage in the room became unstable. The ceiling light flickered intermittently. In the flickering light, Ye Keke’s reflection in the vanity mirror revealed a red figure at the foot of the bed, where there had been nothing before.

A woman in a red dance dress, her head bowed, long black hair covering her face. Her arms hung unnaturally, fingertips brushing below her knees.

The hairdryer clattered onto the vanity, and the room plunged into darkness.

Before she could scream, the light flickered back on. Ye Keke turned around in terror, only to find the red curtains hanging motionless by the bed, reaching the floor.

“It’s an illusion, it must be an illusion,” she exhaled deeply, though her heart began to blame Ni Xiao, “Where on earth did she go? Why hasn’t she come back?”

The clock struck midnight, and Ni Xiao still hadn’t returned. Ye Keke sat on the bed, playing with her phone, her anxiety growing with each passing moment.

‘Maybe I should go out and look for her,’ she paused her fingers, ‘I wonder where she…’

As she thought this, there was a rhythmic knocking at the door. Ye Keke got off the bed and walked to the door, “Why are you so late—”

The moment her fingers touched the doorknob, the room plunged into darkness again.

In the depths of the darkness, the dripping sound of the bathroom faucet was eerily clear. A cold sweat trickled down Ye Keke’s cheek as she whispered, “Ni Xiao, is that you?”

There was no response from outside the door.

Holding her breath, she locked the door and stepped back into the bedroom. As she turned, she heard footsteps that were clearly not her own.

The sound of high heels clicking on the floor, matching her pace, unhurried, following her from behind.

She gripped her phone tightly, her other hand secretly clutching a small knife hidden in her pocket.

When she reached the foot of the bed, without hesitation, she swung the knife through the air behind her!

The knife sliced through empty air, finding nothing.

Cold sweat dripped from Ye Keke’s chin. She held the knife tightly and, without hesitation, turned on her phone’s flashlight.

The bright beam swept through the room, cutting through the stagnant air, illuminating the pale walls and blood-red curtains. She frantically scanned the room with the light, the knife ready in her other hand, cautiously moving around. The footsteps continued to follow her, never too close, never too far.

‘Not in front, not behind…’ she thought, ‘Then…’

As she thought this, she took a step back and felt something hard and sharp under her foot.

Ye Keke, holding her phone, turned her head to look behind her, down at her heel.

The pair of red high heels had been following her all along, quietly curled up in the shadow behind her.

The next moment, a mass of black, furry hair brushed against her neck.

A pair of hands gently rested on her neck, the hands icy cold and pale, with faint red veins crisscrossing them.

“Have you… seen my red dance shoes…”

In the glow of the phone, Ye Keke saw her own reflection and “her” in the mirror on the opposite wall.

It should have been a scene of eerie and tragic beauty. The girl in red clung to the ceiling, her black hair cascading like a waterfall, weaving a web of strands, ensnaring her prey.

Her arms were slender and pale, one could imagine how elegant and graceful she would be when she stretched them out to dance on stage.

But from her waist down… there were no legs, only ruin. As if… she had been run over by a truck, straight through her waist.

“Found it,” she whispered, “But… there’s still something I haven’t found…”

The black strands of hair tightened, Ye Keke was nearly suffocating, barely able to hold the flashlight.

“I can’t find my legs…” she said.

The next moment, there was a loud bang at the door!

With a crash, the entire lock on the door was blown open by a tremendous force, and a man in black wielding a wrench burst in.

The girl in red narrowed her eyes, looking towards the young man.

The young man, with messy black hair, held the wrench that had just dealt a fatal blow to the door lock. He scratched his ear and, upon seeing the entangled duo of human and ghost, crouched down slightly.

The black hair loosened from Ye Keke, like a storm of pear blossoms, sweeping through the room and shooting straight towards the young man at the door!

Facing the incoming barrage of hair, the young man stood firm, his expression cold and unyielding.

He looked so dependable, like a one-man army, an unbreakable wall. As if by his side, any distance could be reached.

Ye Keke, having just freed herself from the hair, was still gasping for breath on the floor. She clutched her throat and hoarsely screamed, “Don’t worry about me! She’s a red dress—run—!”

Before the hair could reach him, the young man suddenly scratched his head, looking confused, and waved his hand, saying, “Sorry, wrong room, my room’s next door, I’ll just leave—you guys have fun—”

With that, he closed the door with lightning speed.

“Bang, bang, bang!!”

The hair stabbed into the wooden door with a deafening crash!

Ye Keke, witnessing it all, felt like she had fallen from heaven into hell.

“Hey! I told you to run and you really ran away!” Ye Keke screamed.

After saying that, Ye Keke collapsed to the ground, despairingly watching as the girl in red snorted coldly, still embedded in the door with her hair, and turned her gaze back to her.

People think of many things before they die. Ye Keke closed her eyes.

The next moment, the girl in red’s expression froze.

Deep green flames, following the strands of hair on the door, spread like wildfire into the room. They climbed up the ghost’s long hair, reaching her head.

The door was pushed open again, but this time, it was two people.

One was Chu Tian, holding a wrench, the other was Zhang Lu, the little match girl.

Chu Tian brushed his bangs back: “And seeing a ghost with such thick hair really makes me want to do something evil…”

The ghost, now with a green head, writhed and howled on the ceiling, clearly in agony from having her essence burned. She glared at Chu Tian with blood-red eyes, ready to attack.

Chu Tian sat on the bed, leisurely looking at her: “Hey, your hair’s almost burned out.”

Ghost: …

The next moment, the ghost let out a piercing scream and fled into the bathroom.

Chu Tian, holding the wrench, charged into the bathroom and turned to Ye Keke: “Wait a second.”

Then, he pointed to his ears: “If you’re scared, cover your ears.”

After a series of gut-wrenching crashes and screams, Chu Tian emerged from the bathroom, fresh black-red blood dripping from the wrench. Ye Keke stared at him nervously, swallowing hard.

“What just…”

“Don’t worry,” Chu Tian shook the wrench, “There was no violent or bloody incident.”

“Your wrench…”

“Is for lubricating oil.”

“How can there be red lubricating oil in this world… and why would a wrench need to be used for oiling… what exactly happened in the bathroom just now?!”

Chu Tian said: “She’s like Moaning Myrtle, as soon as I entered, she plopped into the toilet and disappeared down the drain. The sounds in the bathroom were from her getting stuck in the drain due to her size, I just kindly knocked her head and, with the help of the oil, knocked her down the drain… the density of lubricating oil is about 0.91103 (kg/m3) and it helps lubricate, cool, seal, prevent rust, and cushion… it’s called the ‘blood’ of the car… as per Baidu Encyclopedia, so saying oil is like blood isn’t wrong…”

Ye Keke: “… Leaving aside everything else, why did she go into the toilet?”

Chu Tian said: “Well, maybe to put out the fire on her hair, like a man who’s lost his job and gets drunk at a banquet, comes home thinking about his mortgage and girlfriend, and sticks his head in the toilet for comfort… it’s quite logical.”

“The middle example has no connection to the before and after sentences!! So you just shoved her in there, didn’t you?!”

“Don’t say that,” Chu Tian said seriously, “I’m a very friendly person.”

Ye Keke: …

Ye Keke was still on the floor, clutching her throat, when she noticed a hand reaching out to her.

The hand was soft and pale, it was Zhang Lu’s.

Remembering how she had secretly criticized Zhang Lu’s fragile personality a few days ago, Ye Keke felt a bit ashamed. She held her throat and said, “Thank you… I can get up on my own…”

“Five thousand.”

“… Huh?”

“One match, five thousand.”

Ye Keke: …

Chu Tian frowned, looking at Zhang Lu: “Isn’t that a bit too much…”

Then, he counted on his fingers: “I also contributed, at least I should get half.”

Ye Keke: …

In the mirror.

Black thorns spread across the floor like a net, entangling nine white figures still struggling within.

In the center of the room stood Lin Huai, his black hair fluttering. He stood on the thorns that originated from the curse marks on his body, looking down at his palm.

In his palm was a fresh wound. The wound wasn’t deep, just a shallow scratch, but crimson blood was slowly spreading along the lines of his palm.

He casually crushed the illusion in his hand. It shattered into tiny silver fragments, consumed by the black-red thorns.

Lin Huai clapped his hands, waiting for the wound to heal, and then turned to look at the girl lying unconscious by the door.

He thought for a moment, then lifted her with one hand and dragged her into the mirror.

Just before stepping into the mirror, Lin Huai saw Chu Tian confronting the girl in red in the bathroom through the mirror.

The girl in red, in front of Chu Tian, looked like a trembling, broken doll. Chu Tian’s face was devoid of his usual smile, he just squatted there expressionlessly, biting his finger. The severely injured ghost then sank into the toilet on her own.

Lin Huai also extended his red tongue, licking his lips.

 

Author’s note:

*The use of the censored trope:

Auntie: A type of female elder.

Note: The translation includes all the original text, maintaining the tone, style, and cultural references as much as possible. Some idiomatic expressions and cultural nuances have been adapted to ensure clarity and coherence in English.