Chapter Fifty-Six: The Ancient Tomb and the Desolate Study

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“The Desolate Studio of the Ancient Tomb”!
Heavy footsteps approached slowly, the eerie and bizarre background music echoed dully throughout the hall, like the cries of ghosts and wolves.
Suddenly, a chilling wind swept through the previously airtight screening room, rattling the skylight on the attic above.
Cui Yue and the others exchanged nervous glances, their scalps tingling. Swallowing hard, they thought, so this is the indescribable scene Zhang Hao talked about—damn, it really is thrilling.
With such an atmosphere, each felt their nerves fraying, a creeping unease within, their gazes wandering, yet none would admit to cowardice or show any weakness.
“Zhang Hao, if you can’t take it anymore, just say the word,” Cui Yue teased.
“Pfft, are you kidding? This is nothing, hardly worth my attention. I’ve never feared anyone—not even the Hairy Ghost God last time. Hey, whoever chickens out tonight is paying for the midnight snack,” Zhang Hao retorted stubbornly, though his bravado was thin. He thought to himself, how could sparrows understand the lofty ambitions of a swan? I’m not here just for this; if I don’t see something truly indescribable tonight, I won’t rest!
Da Zhuang merely shrugged, indifferent. “Who’s afraid? I’m getting that midnight snack for sure.”
Cui Yue thought, Ha, trying to compete with me? I’ve seen this kind of thing several times lately, and it’s just a movie. Though nervous inside, he felt he was still stronger than these two weaklings. You two can get ready to pay up.
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Cui Yue noticed the man who had been sitting nearby was gone. He didn’t know when he’d left. Cui Yue’s heart suddenly tightened; logically, to exit the screening room, one had to pass by his aisle. Yet the seats where that man and woman had sat were now empty, not a trace left. The man had vanished, leaving no sign.
Where did he go?
Cui Yue rubbed his forehead, calming himself. He reassured himself that the man had probably left, maybe they hadn’t noticed, or perhaps there was another exit at the front. He mustn’t let his imagination run wild and frighten himself.

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Cui Yue scanned the hall with his eyes; there were still a few scattered people sitting in the corners. Some, perhaps finding the horror film too much, had lost interest and were preparing to leave.
By chance, as Cui Yue glanced around, he spotted a young man in the back row, holding a thick notebook and a pen, occasionally jotting down notes and sketches.
What’s this? A weirdo!
Cui Yue was momentarily bewildered and couldn’t help scrutinizing him. The young man had delicate features, wore round black-rimmed glasses, and a white shirt, clutching a fountain pen and recording something in his notebook with great seriousness. His expression was so focused it was as if he were in a bright, quiet library rather than a dark, noisy screening room. The sinister background music of the film became a light tune hummed under his breath, his brows even showing a hint of excitement.
This strange young man was utterly out of place with his surroundings, yet oddly harmonious, as if he blended into the space itself. Though eccentric, he didn’t seem out of place.
Had Cui Yue not been so observant, he might never have noticed this oddity sitting in the back row.
Cui Yue stared at the weirdo, his expression strange. Zhang Hao, seeing Cui Yue’s gaze fixed again, assumed the beautiful woman from earlier had returned and anxiously looked around.
“Where? Where?”
“What’s up?”
“A beauty.”
“No beauty, but there’s a weirdo. Look,” Cui Yue gestured toward the peculiar young man.
Zhang Hao squinted, exclaiming inwardly, My goodness, this is a master! It’s the first time I’ve seen someone take notes while watching a horror movie. Look at his enthusiasm—he’s not watching ‘The Desolate Studio of the Ancient Tomb,’ it might as well be a comedy.
Da Zhuang stared, full of admiration, so moved he nearly teared up.

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“Hey, if I had half the resolve of that guy, I wouldn’t have failed my high school entrance exams. No wonder my mother says I’m too stupid, can’t learn a thing.”
He hit the nail on the head; Cui Yue and Zhang Hao instantly felt a deep sense of kinship, nodding vigorously. Both looked at the young man in the white shirt with newfound reverence.
Scholar, please accept our respect and admiration!
The young man seemed oblivious to the three academic underachievers nearby. He continued, absorbed in watching the horror film, reading and writing, occasionally reaching up to adjust his black-rimmed glasses. His eyes behind the lenses were deep as the sea, gleaming like gold.
The screening room finally settled into a rare calm, only the sound system echoing with the mournful song of a grieving woman, sending chills through the audience.
The chained soul on the screen was not what truly frightened people; it was the infectious atmosphere. Cui Yue’s mind kept replaying the ghostly image of Huang Juan, her face full of resentment, two black ghostly eyes fixed on him, her twisted face and gaping mouth seeming ready to swallow him whole at any moment.
Cold sweat soaked Cui Yue’s back.
Just as he was thinking, a ghostly, soul-calling voice suddenly sounded from the screen.
Chain... Lock...
Chain... Lock...
Where are you... Where are you...
Each call grew more urgent, chilling everyone to the bone.