Chapter 2: Jealousy (1)

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Staring at the dark shadow standing behind her in the mirror, Jiang Shengsheng’s breath caught. She abruptly spun around, eyes wide, looking behind herself. Yet, behind her was nothing but a pale yellow lazy sofa—nothing else.

Her chest heaved violently, and Jiang Shengsheng’s eyes reddened from the sudden fright. She hurriedly fled the bathroom, darted through the corridor, and locked herself inside the bedroom.

In her frantic rush, the cream-colored slippers she wore slipped off in the brightly lit hallway. Jiang Shengsheng crawled into bed, reached for her phone on the bedside, and deliberately called the first contact in her list.

At the same time, the bathroom faucet turned on by itself.

The gushing water was mysteriously blocked midair, scattering as if pushed away by an invisible force.

In the glass mirror, a man dressed in a suit slowly blinked his narrow eyes. His high nose bridge framed thin, blood-red lips curved into a gleeful smile.

“Shengsheng... baby, you’ll always belong to me alone...”

Inside the student council office, three boys and two girls sat around a table, their expressions varied as they watched Song Qingxiu toy with the phone in his fingertips.

The short-haired girl, Zhu Dan, couldn’t help but ask, “Have you gathered any useful clues?”

They were all players chosen by the decryption game. Although death in the game didn’t mean death in reality, the pain was all too real.

Six months ago, the decryption game swept across the globe, causing a huge sensation.

At first, people were wary of its purpose. Gradually, they realized the game wouldn’t truly kill anyone. Then, a wealthy benefactor issued a challenge—maintain a leaderboard position for a month for a chance to share fifteen billion dollars.

That’s why many players appeared.

Hearing this, Song Qingxiu blinked his charming peach blossom eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the phone vibrated violently beneath his fingertips.

Hearing the ringing, the five frowned and looked toward the phone.

Under their gaze, Song Qingxiu raised an eyebrow, his honeyed voice tinged with a hint of hoarseness and confusion: “Isn’t this just a clue delivered to you?”

He chuckled softly, then stood and walked to the window, answering the call without caring about the two boys and two girls watching him.

Let’s see what kind of demons this mission has this time.

“Hello, Jiang...”

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Curled up on the soft bed, Jiang Shengsheng trembled, pressed against the headboard, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the wooden door nearby, her teeth clenched tightly on her lower lip.

She silently prayed that Song Qingxiu would pick up.

Only when she heard the gentle male voice on the other end did her stiffened blood begin to flow again. She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly a cold hand reached out from behind.

“Shh, baby Shengsheng, are you afraid of me?” The rigid spine pressed against a chilling chest. Jiang Shengsheng shuddered uncontrollably from the bone-deep cold.

Song Wu, youthful in appearance, narrowed his dark eyes. The warm heat in his arms made him greedily cling tighter. A contented sigh escaped his lips as he tightened his grip on Jiang Shengsheng’s arm.

Still feeling it wasn’t intimate enough, Song Wu lifted her slightly, burying his face in the hollow of her neck, nuzzling like a clingy puppy expressing his longing.

Hearing Song Wu’s voice, Jiang Shengsheng blurted out, guessing who it was: “...Song Wu?”

She couldn’t believe the man who had died three months ago was standing behind her, holding her tightly.

Yet, the Song Wu holding her rolled his eyes. The black irises expanded, leaving very little white, fixed on her fair neck.

He chuckled meaningfully, a bright smile in his voice: “Baby Shengsheng, have you forgotten me so soon? I’ve always remembered that I want to be with you, even in death... always together.”

Hearing Song Wu’s words, Jiang Shengsheng’s cute apricot eyes widened in terror, her lips and the color in her face vanished instantly. Her fingers gripping the phone turned white from force.

Even without her reply, even though the woman in his arms trembled uncontrollably, Song Wu laughed joyfully.

The icy hand inched upward, finally resting on her slender neck.

With just a slight twist, his most cherished lover, his Shengsheng, would become a ghost he could never let go, surviving with him in this fractured world.

The phone pressed to her ear crackled faintly with unstable static. Jiang Shengsheng’s breath faltered with his movements, her heart pounding as if about to leap from her throat.

“Ah,” the male ghost nuzzled her neck affectionately, his tone tinged with regretful laughter, “Baby Shengsheng is just relying on my love... How could I ever let you become a ghost with me?”

Hearing Song Wu’s words, Jiang Shengsheng didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more anxious.

Fortunately, Song Wu didn’t need her response and continued talking: “But, baby, it seems you’ve found another dog...?”

The boyish man resembled a little dog waiting excitedly at home for his mistress’s return, only to sniff out the scent of another dog on her.

An unbearably foul scent.

His eyes hidden behind long lashes darkened completely as his words fell, the laughter fading into cruelty and obsession brewing deep within.

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Jiang Shengsheng shuddered in fright and tremblingly shook her head: “No, I’m not dating anyone.”

She and Song Wu had been in a free and open relationship.

Back in their freshman year, Jiang Shengsheng, in the same major, noticed Song Wu immediately after enrolling. After all, his appearance was striking among the crowd.

But it was Song Wu who actively pursued her, and after two years of ups and downs, they were together.

Three months ago, Song Wu died unexpectedly, crushed instantly by a rampaging truck on his way to a business banquet.

Jiang Shengsheng would never forget those agonizing days, and she hadn’t yet recovered, so she naturally rejected other men’s advances.

Hearing this, Song Wu hummed confusedly, making Jiang Shengsheng’s heart flutter wildly, uncertain of his intentions.

They say the living and the dead are on different paths, but in just this brief moment, frail Jiang Shengsheng felt unwell.

The cold arm around her waist stiffened for a few seconds. The petite woman curled in Song Wu’s embrace suddenly sneezed, her pale cheeks flushing with abnormal redness.

Jiang Shengsheng felt feverish, dizzy, and utterly drained.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Her muddled mind only cleared slightly when her cheek was gently cupped.

Looking into the woman’s teary eyes, Song Wu tugged at the corner of his mouth and gradually closed the distance between them.

His burning breath mingled with her chilling one. When their noses touched, Song Wu tilted his head and said, “Baby Shengsheng, I’ll let you off today—no touching other dogs.”

“Or else, I’ll kill him with my own hands,” he added coldly, his lips pressing directly against hers.

Her fevered brain couldn’t process this. Jiang Shengsheng’s wide eyes, blurred by tears, couldn’t focus and could only be forced to lift her chin by his grasp.

In an instant, the ghostly figure before her vanished.

The phone under the soft thin quilt rang, waking the still-dazed Jiang Shengsheng.

Rubbing her temples, she scanned the bedroom warily and reached for the phone: “Senior Song... I think I’ve encountered a ghost.”