4:23 a.m.
The elevator finally stopped.
Lin Wanqing opened her eyes.
This wasn't the first floor.
It wasn't any floor she recognized, either.
Beyond the elevator doors was a white hallway.
The walls were so clean they were nearly spotless. The ceiling lights stretched on one after another, shining so brightly she could barely keep her eyes open.
Wanqing stood inside the elevator without stepping out right away.
She lowered her head and looked at her phone.
The same message was still on the screen.
The third person is still alive.
She didn't know who the third person was.
She knew even less about who the first person really was.
The only thing she could be sure of was this—
Someone had been watching her all along.
And whoever it was seemed to know her very well.
Perhaps even better than she knew herself.
Wanqing stepped out of the elevator.
Her footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
After walking a few steps, she suddenly stopped.
Because she realized…
There was more than one set of footsteps.
Another sound was following behind her.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Wanqing didn't turn around.
She stood perfectly still.
The footsteps behind her stopped, too.
“Who’s there?”
There was no answer.
She slowly turned around.
The hallway was completely empty.
There wasn't a single person in sight.
Wanqing took a deep breath.
She began to wonder if she was simply too tense.
But the instant she turned back around—
The lights ahead suddenly came on.
One.
Two.
Three.
They continued all the way to the end of the hallway.
Beneath the last light stood a person.
A woman.
She wore a white coat.
Her hair was very long.
Her head was bowed.
Wanqing's heart lurched.
“Mom?”
The woman slowly raised her head.
It wasn't her mother.
It was a complete stranger.
The woman glanced at her.
Then she turned and walked away.
“Wait!”
Wanqing chased after her.
But the woman moved quickly.
Wanqing followed her all the way to the end of the hallway.
Then the woman suddenly disappeared.
All that remained ahead was a single door.
A piece of paper was taped to it.
404
Wanqing stared at the number.
Suddenly, it struck her as strange.
This was clearly the third floor.
So why was there a 404?
She reached out and touched the door.
It opened on its own.
Inside was a living room.
And in the center of the room…
stood a dining table.
A cake sat on the table.
Twenty-six candles were stuck into it.
Wanqing stood in the doorway.
Her entire body went rigid.
Today wasn't her birthday.
In fact, her birthday was still three months away.
She walked toward the table.
Beside the cake was a card.
It read:
Happy birthday, Wanqing.
She didn't touch it.
She only stared at the card.
After a long while, she finally took out her phone.
She wanted to take a photograph.
But there was no signal.
She looked at the cake again.
The frosting was still fresh.
There were even beads of water on the strawberries.
It looked as if the cake had just been made.
Wanqing slowly walked into the kitchen.
There was a refrigerator inside.
She stood in front of it.
A powerful sense of unease suddenly rose inside her.
Because she remembered Chapter Two.
That photograph.
It had also been in a refrigerator.
The message she received back then had said:
Don't look in the refrigerator.
She had always thought it was just a warning.
Only now did she realize…
Maybe it hadn't been a warning at all.
Maybe someone had deliberately made her afraid of the refrigerator.
Made her afraid to open it.
Wanqing stood in front of the refrigerator.
Her hand rested on the handle.
She didn't pull it open right away.
“If you really want me to know…”
she whispered,
“then stop hiding.”
She pulled the refrigerator open.
There was nothing strange inside.
Milk.
Water.
A few containers of food.
A bottle of juice.
And on the very bottom shelf…
was a small box.
Wanqing took it out.
Then she opened it.
Inside was a birthday card.
The date on it left her frozen.
July 14, 2016.
She stared at the date.
It had been exactly ten years ago.
That day,
she had been sixteen.
It was also the day her mother had last appeared in her memories.
She opened the card.
There was only one sentence inside.
This year, we'll eat cake together on your birthday.
The handwriting was her mother's.
Wanqing's hand began to tremble.
Suddenly, she remembered something.
On her sixteenth birthday…
she really had eaten cake.
But she had always thought her father had bought it.
Because her mother hadn't come home that day.
At least, that's how she remembered it.
But now,
the card was in her hand.
She began to wonder.
Maybe her mother had come home that day.
Maybe she had simply forgotten.
“Why…”
she murmured.
“Why did I forget?”
A voice suddenly came from outside the kitchen.
“Because someone wanted you to forget.”
Wanqing whipped around.
The strange woman from before was standing in the living room.
Wanqing had no idea when she had come in.
The woman looked at her.
“You finally remembered.”
“Who are you?”
The woman didn't answer.
She only looked at the cake on the dining table.
“Do you still remember that night?”
Wanqing said nothing.
The woman asked again:
“Do you remember who lit the candles for you?”
Wanqing closed her eyes.
Her memories began to blur.
Cake.
Candles.
Her mother.
And a man.
She couldn't make out the man's face.
She only remembered him sitting across the table.
His fingers tapped lightly against the tabletop.
Once.
Then again.
As if he were waiting for something.
The woman said:
“That night, you saw something you shouldn't have seen.”
Wanqing opened her eyes.
“What?”
“A person.”
“Who?”
The woman didn't answer.
“Your mother told you to hide.”
The color slowly drained from Wanqing's face.
“And then?”
“Then someone came in.”
“Who?”
“Someone you knew.”
Wanqing's breathing quickened.
“Who was it?”
The woman looked at her.
“Do you really want to know?”
“I need to know.”
The woman was silent for a few seconds.
“Then look at the cake.”
Wanqing turned around.
At some point, another photograph had appeared on the cake.
It was stuck right in the center.
She walked over and picked it up.
The photograph showed the living room from ten years ago.
A little girl sat beside the table.
It was her, at sixteen.
A woman stood beside her.
Her mother.
And behind the two of them…
stood a man.
Wanqing couldn't make out his face.
But she recognized the jacket.
It was the kind Officer Zhou often wore ten years ago.
She staggered backward.
“No. That’s impossible.”
The woman said nothing.
“He was a police officer back then, wasn’t he?”
“He was.”
“Why would he be at my house?”
“That’s the answer you’re supposed to find for yourself.”
Wanqing looked at the photograph again.
There was a time in the lower-right corner.
11:16 p.m.
She remembered.
A little after eleven that night, she had suddenly fallen asleep.
When she woke up, it was already the next morning.
Her mother was gone.
Her father had told her:
“Your mother had something to take care of. She’ll be gone for a few days.”
After that,
her mother never came back.
Wanqing had always believed that was the whole story.
Until today.
Only now did she know that there had been other people in her home that night.
And her mother…
might not have left on her own at all.
The strange woman walked over to the table.
“Do you want to know why you forgot?”
Wanqing looked up.
“Because that night, someone made you fall asleep.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not ordinary sleep.”
The woman looked at her.
“They made your brain bury those few hours.”
Wanqing's face turned pale.
Her head suddenly began to ache.
One image after another flashed through her mind.
She was sitting at the dining table.
Her mother was cutting the cake.
Someone knocked on the door.
Her mother suddenly stopped.
She looked toward the door.
Then she said to Wanqing:
“Go to your room.”
“Now.”
The little girl didn't understand.
“Why?”
Her mother crouched down.
She gripped her shoulders.
“No matter what you hear, don't come out.”
The scene shifted again.
The door opened.
A man walked in.
Her mother's expression changed instantly.
The man said:
“You shouldn't have kept her here.”
Her mother replied:
“She doesn't know anything.”
“But she saw it.”
“She'll forget.”
“What if she doesn't?”
Her mother didn't answer.
The man slowly moved closer.
The little girl hid behind the door.
She watched them through the crack.
And then…
she saw the third person.
Someone standing behind the man.
Wanqing's eyes flew open.
“The third person…”
The strange woman looked at her.
“Do you remember now?”
Wanqing's eyes slowly widened.
At last, she saw that face.
It wasn't Officer Zhou.
It wasn't Xu An.
And it wasn't her mother.
It was…
herself.
Her sixteen-year-old self.
Standing in the hallway.
Watching the man.
But how was that possible?
“Back then, I was…”
she murmured.
“I was in my room.”
“You were in your room.”
“But that wasn't the first time you saw him.”
Wanqing froze.
“What do you mean?”
The woman walked up to her.
“You had already seen him before that.”
“Where?”
The woman didn't answer.
She simply picked up the photograph from the cake.
Then she turned it over.
A name was written on the back.
Gu Yan.
Wanqing stared at the two characters.
It felt as if something had struck her in the head.
She remembered Chapter Three.
The photograph that had been cropped.
The seventh person.
It was Gu Yan.
“Who is he?”
“Ten years ago, he was the person your mother trusted most.”
“And now?”
The woman looked at her.
“Now, he’s the person everyone fears most.”
Wanqing said nothing.
“Then where is he?”
“No one knows.”
“Is he dead?”
The woman shook her head.
“If he were dead, you wouldn’t be here now.”
Wanqing's heart sank.
“So he’s still alive?”
The woman didn't answer.
She walked to the door.
“One last warning.”
“What?”
The woman glanced back.
“Today isn't your birthday.”
Wanqing frowned.
“I know.”
“No.”
The woman looked at her.
“What I mean is—”
“Today isn't the first time this room has celebrated your birthday, either.”
Wanqing froze.
The woman left.
The door slowly closed.
She was alone in the room.
She turned back toward the cake on the table.
Twenty-six candles.
She counted them once.
One.
Two.
Three.
Twenty-six.
Not one was missing.
But then she noticed another candle beside the cake, one that hadn't been stuck into it.
Beside that candle lay a piece of paper.
She picked it up.
There was only one sentence on it.
On your sixteenth birthday, you forgot to blow out the candles.
Wanqing's hand stopped.
Suddenly, she remembered.
That night,
she really hadn't blown out the candles.
Because before she could…
her mother had pulled every candle out.
At the time, she hadn't understood why.
Now she finally did.
It wasn't because her mother didn't want her to celebrate her birthday.
It was because…
there hadn't been twenty-six candles on the cake that night.
There had been seventeen.
One of them
represented the person who should never have been in their home.
5:12 a.m.
Wanqing left Room 404.
She stepped into the elevator.
This time, it worked normally.
She pressed the button for the first floor.
The doors closed.
The elevator began to descend.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Just as it was about to reach the first floor—
The elevator suddenly stopped.
The lights flickered.
Her phone rang.
A new message.
She lowered her head.
It was a photograph of a birthday cake.
Three people appeared in the photograph.
Her.
Her mother.
And a man.
The man's face had been scribbled over with black ink.
Beneath the photograph was a message:
The fourth way to die: being erased by the person closest to you.
Wanqing stared at the photograph.
She didn't move for a long time.
Because at last, she knew.
What she had lost over the past ten years…
wasn't only her mother.
It was an entire part of her life.
And in those erased memories,
there had to be the first true victim.
The elevator doors slowly opened.
A man stood outside.
He wore a black coat.
In his hand was a cake box.
He looked at Wanqing.
Then he smiled.
“Happy birthday.”
Wanqing raised her head.
The man turned and walked away.
She chased after him.
But the hallway was already empty.
Only the cake box remained on the floor.
She slowly crouched down.
Then she opened the box.
There was no cake inside.
Only a photograph.
Written on the back were the words:
Next time, don't trust Officer Zhou.
Wanqing gripped the photograph.
For the first time, she felt true fear.
Because she was beginning to understand—
Everyone around her might have known the truth for a long time.
And she
was the last person to find out.