NOVEL NEXT Chapter 15 - Without him.
6 A.M.
In the bottom bunk of the dormitory, the faint blue glow of the screen still reflected off the walls.
Ye Jishu stared at the screen, his focus so intense that his originally amber-colored eyes had turned dark and shadowed.
A few minutes later, blood began to trickle slowly from the top corners of the computer screen.
Then, the words [The End] appeared on the display.
This marked the completion of the game.
It was done.
Ye Jishu glanced at the live stream interface.
The session had been successfully recorded.
The current number of viewers was displayed at the bottom of the live stream page.
Even though he’d gone live at such an odd hour, the counter still showed over 10,000 people watching without notifying anyone.
Ye Jishu exited full-screen mode and moved his mouse, pausing at the upper-right corner of the game interface.
His actions immediately triggered a flood of comments on the stream’s chat.
[Huh? Are you ending the stream?]
[I stayed up all night for this and it was so worth it! Your gameplay is insane, wow. You picked the hardest mode, and you didn’t die even once. I would’ve thought it was a highlight reel if I hadn’t watched live. Are you sure you didn’t check a walkthrough beforehand??]
[What walkthrough? The game was only released at midnight!]
[No surprises here. I’ve been a fan for a while. YJS lives up to the name—he’s got the skills.]
Ye Jishu’s streaming username was just the initials of his name, typed in casually without much thought. It held no deeper meaning.
Perhaps due to the phonetic similarity, his initials had earned him the nickname “You Ji Shu¹” among fans.
It sounded bold.
Like someone who’s effortlessly charismatic.
However, because of his extremely silent streaming style, viewers occasionally speculated about his age or identity in the chat.
Most of their guesses were way off.
To date, Ye Jishu had never spoken a single word during his streams, so it was no surprise that people got it wrong.
[This game takes at least 20 hours to complete, and you beat it in under six. I’m speechless. You’re on another level.]
[Nooo, I haven’t had enough yet. Can you keep streaming a bit longer? Please, I’m begging you.]
[Could you speak this time? Just one sentence?]
[Please, I’m dying of curiosity, bro. Say something, I’m begging.]
[Are you going to the streamer meetup in July this year? I’m dying to know what you look like…]
Anyone familiar with YJS’s streams knew that he would immediately end the broadcast once a game was finished without any post-game chat.
So even though fans made their playful requests with exaggerated “please” and “I’m begging you” language, they didn’t truly expect him to comply.
This time was no different.
He ended the stream decisively, shutting off the game and cutting the feed—another fan service session concluded.
Yet, this time, something felt… different.
Ye Jishu removed his headphones and pushed his chair back, his gaze settling on the damp edge of the balcony curtain, darkened from the rain.
Normally, the game’s storylines didn’t linger in his mind. To him, games were just a way to kill time and relieve stress, not worth the mental bandwidth. But this time, fragments of the game replayed in his head.
The protagonist, A, was an ordinary student at a prestigious school. They lived a mundane life, unaffected even by the constant rumors of paranormal activity on campus.
[Ghosts? Impossible]
This conviction had been a steadfast truth in A’s 19 years of life.
As folklore studies majors, the most terrifying experience they had ever faced was realizing how difficult it would be to find a job in their field.
But then, everything changed.
During a long-awaited date with their boyfriend, a staff error at a haunted house attraction left them trapped together in a sealed room.
Midnight struck.
Exhausted, A sat down on a prop bed without informing their boyfriend, too tired to care.
As they raised their head to speak, they noticed their boyfriend’s expression stiffen. His eyes rolled unnaturally, and he began muttering disjointedly, “Where are you? Why can’t I see you? A, did you leave me for another room? Please, answer me. A, where are you? I can’t see you…”
That eerie, slightly frantic tone echoed throughout the confined space.
A was right in front of him. Nothing had changed—the boyfriend’s vision was fine, and the surroundings were untouched.
But it was precisely the mundane nature of the scene that sent an icy chill down A’s spine.
As a folklore student, A knew a specific urban legend.
[At midnight, if your shoes point directly toward the bed, spirits can trace the direction and find you. Conversely, if your shoes are placed haphazardly or not near the bed at all, they won’t be able to see a person lying there.]
Ye Jishu understood the mechanics instantly.
Perhaps it was because his boyfriend, Yan Mei, also majored in folklore studies. Boredom often led Ye Jishu to glance at whatever books Yan Mei was reading, and one particular book had left a lasting impression.
Someone had underlined passages about the ritualistic “invitation” rule for spirits in a bright red pen, with lines so forceful they had torn through the paper.
The memory resurfaced vividly as Ye Jishu imagined Yan Mei suddenly turning to stare at him, the coldness of his touch creeping into Ye Jishu’s hair and face, and even a chilling kiss placed behind his ear.
It was impossible to forget.
The in-game narrative mirrored these unsettling themes. Only through an invitation could the unseen become visible—just like the folklore of spirits entering houses unbidden. Supposedly, some people with unique “insulated” constitutions could simply render themselves invisible to malicious entities by desperately wishing not to be seen.
In bold red letters, a message appeared at the center of the screen:
[Escape the haunted house.]
[Avoid your boyfriend. Don’t let him realize you’ve discovered the truth.]
The once-gentle boyfriend had begun muttering, “Where are you? Stop hiding from me.” His human features slowly stripped away, revealing a face where insects crawled out of bloodied, exposed flesh.
From this point, the game switches to a first-person perspective, allowing the player to control the protagonist.
[This setup… is truly awful.]
Ye Jishu’s bloodshot eyes stung from staring at the screen for hours, but his gaze didn’t waver from the damp curtain.
[Terrible. Awful. Absolutely horrible.]
[Is the kind, considerate, popular boyfriend actually a ghost? He only dated A to hide his true nature because A was so ordinary that no one would notice?]
[It’s terrible. ]
A faint rustling sound came from behind the curtain.
Ye Jishu didn’t turn. After all, there were only two people in the dorm.
“Hey. Are you… still going on that date today?”
His roommate’s nervous voice, tinged with something unidentifiable, broke the silence. It wavered like unsteady eyes, avoiding direct confrontation.
A sharp, persistent gaze bored into Ye Jishu’s back, as though his roommate had been obsessing over this date with Yan Mei for far too long.
Ye Jishu’s motion to turn froze mid-action.
He didn’t know how his roommate had learned about his plans with Mei, but—
“Hm.” He nodded.
“…Even after playing that game? You’re still going?”
“Hm.”
Staying up all night was nothing new. For Ye Jishu, it was routine. Many of the games he played would drop updates in the dead of night, forcing him to stay up. Sometimes, mid-game, he’d remember an assignment due for his major and pull an all-nighter to finish it.
One sleepless day was nothing.
Besides, this was his second date with Yan Mei. No way would he miss it.
“…I see.”
The roommate’s response was quiet, disappointment evident, but then quickly followed by a hopeful question.
“Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?”
“No.”
This time, Ye Jishu’s tone left no room for negotiation.
A suffocating silence enveloped the room.
After a while, there was a shuffle of movement behind him. His roommate crawled back into bed, muffled sobbing echoing faintly from under the covers.
“…What do I do? I can’t even… say it directly…”
Ye Jishu didn’t turn.
He glanced down, his gaze resting on the soaked edge of the curtain as he ran his fingers over the thickened, damp fabric.
[He doesn’t suit Yan Mei.]
[Someone like Yan Mei—popular, surrounded by people—would never like a solitary guy who always stays in the dorm. If it were the roommate, he’d probably refuse to go out. Yan Mei would get upset in no time.]
[If I’m like Yan Mei’s ex, then his current boyfriend… should be someone who matches him better.]
Clearing his mind of stray thoughts, Jishu focused on the one thing that mattered:
Today…
He was really going on that date.
Ye Jishu lifted the curtain and peeked outside the dormitory building. At six in the morning, many buildings remained unlit, standing heavily in the misty dawn. Yet, with the clear skies devoid of clouds, it was certain that once the sun rose, the day would turn into a scorching summer day.
This summer was truly peculiar.
Heavy clouds often shrouded the sky, and even the weather forecast frequently announced rainfall. However, the temperature refused to drop, leaving everyone feeling stiflingly hot and burdened. Even on rare sunny days, the heat was so intense that it felt as though one’s skin was being battered by torrential rain. Anyone wearing a white T-shirt would find their back drenched in sweat within moments under the glaring sun.
Lowering his gaze, Ye Jishu took out his phone to check the day’s temperature.
A high of 38°C.
It seemed like short sleeves would suffice. Additionally, he needed to switch to comfortable sneakers since he would undoubtedly be walking a lot.
Completely different from Ye Jishu, Yan Mei wasn’t the type of person who would sit down immediately upon arriving at a tourist spot. He would certainly drag Ye Jishu around to explore and look at everything.
So exhausting.
He hadn’t even left yet, but Ye Jishu already felt like he might not survive the day. However, for Yan Mei, he was willing to make an exception. If it were anyone else, he would have absolutely refused to go out, opting instead to spend the entire day in the dorm, playing mobile games.
Ye Jishu put his phone away, but just as he was about to let the curtain fall, his peripheral vision caught a figure downstairs. He froze mid-motion.
…It was Yan Mei.
As expected, he had arrived early. From afar, Yan Mei’s outfit looked great, even without seeing his face. His presence naturally drew attention. Yan Mei had always been the center of focus wherever he went, and even now, as he stood looking at his phone with a neutral expression, he stood out starkly against the early morning students bustling to class.
Ye Jishu quietly opened the balcony door and stepped outside.
He had never observed Yan Mei like this before. Yan Mei was always highly attuned to gazes. Anytime Ye Jishu looked at him—even if it was just a quick glance—Yan Mei would notice and respond with a glance of his own, often following up with a sticky hug.
Even if he didn’t react that way, locking eyes with Yan Mei for long always felt strange, as if it required something beyond comprehension to sustain.
Thus, Ye Jishu often shifted his gaze away the moment Yan Mei’s attention swung in his direction, pretending it was nothing. And once his gaze was averted, the opportunity to observe him passed.
[If only…]
[I hope Yan Mei doesn’t notice me right now.]
He wanted to look at him a bit longer.
The thought—unprecedented and strong—flashed through Ye Jishu’s mind.
Don’t notice me.
But his wish seemed unlikely to come true. As always, Yan Mei’s sharp senses picked up on his gaze. Yan Mei lifted his head from his phone and looked in his direction.
The shadows of trees swayed.
Amidst the rustling of leaves in the morning breeze, it seemed as if their eyes met.
It was only on the fourth floor.
So Yan Mei must have seen him.
At this thought, Ye Jishu’s heart pounded heavily.
But in the next instant, Yan Mei didn’t smile at him like usual. Instead, his face remained cold and indifferent, as though Ye Jishu was just another stranger. He quickly lowered his head again and refocused on his phone, his fingers tapping away at the screen.
Ye Jishu: “…”
Was he… still angry?
Confused, Ye Jishu thought about it. He glanced down at his own phone to check the time.
6:20.
He wasn’t late. So there shouldn’t be a new reason…
Ye Jishu’s phone vibrated at that moment, and a new message popped up at the top of the screen.
[Jishu, are you awake? Don’t be late, okay?]
[I brought breakfast for you. Do you want to eat it in the dorm or on the ride? I brought my car.]
Ye Jishu froze in place, as if doused in cold water.
His fingers, his heart, his whole body felt a chilling numbness.
It was a message from Yan Mei.
Strange.
It seemed… Yan Mei hadn’t actually seen him.
¹meaning “has skills”