Right at two o'clock in the morning, the footage showed me walking out of the master bedroom again—and I had zero recollection of this happening. What's more, the video clearly captured that my eyes were shut tight the entire time I moved.
I shuffled from the master bedroom to the living room, sat down on the sofa like a wooden puppet, then picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.
The blare of the TV didn't so much as make me blink. I just sat there, eyes closed, "watching" it until four o'clock in the morning.
At exactly four, I suddenly toppled backward onto the sofa, lying sprawled out like I'd passed out cold.
It wasn't until five o'clock that I jolted awake on the sofa, grabbed my phone, and bolted out of the house.
From start to finish, there wasn't a single trace of those cement footprints anywhere in the surveillance footage.
After watching the video, I froze solid, rooted to the spot so long that my legs went numb and tingly.
I'd actually… actually been sleepwalking. And those cement footprints? They'd never existed at all.
"Have you been that swamped with work lately?" Meng Yifan swallowed hard, staring at me with a weirded-out look on his face.
But he wasn't spooked by ghosts or anything supernatural—he was spooked by me.
"How about I give you a week off? Go take a trip, clear your head before you come back."
"Or we can head to the hospital once the sun's up… get you checked out."
I dug my fingers into my hair, my voice dead serious as I looked at him. "I don't know when I developed this sleepwalking crap, but I swear to you—I saw those cement footprints. The ones from high heels. I don't get why the cameras didn't pick them up…"
Meng Yifan obviously didn't buy a word of it. He still thought I'd been so stressed out that I'd started hallucinating.
"Tell you what. We told the homeowner we'd stay two nights. Tonight, I'll crash here with you."
"If those footprints really show up, I'll see 'em too. Deal?"
That was my brother for you—always looking out for my feelings, no matter how crazy I sounded.
I nodded, not even bothering to argue.
Even though the mere thought of stepping foot in this house made my skin crawl, I had to prove I wasn't imagining things. Otherwise, I'd have to admit I really did need a trip to the psych ward.
By the time we finished going through the footage, the sky was already brightening. Meng Yifan and I decided to get out of there for the time being.
We grabbed breakfast at a diner nearby, then headed back to the store like it was any other normal day.
But I was totally checked out the whole time. My mind kept replaying last night's weirdness on a loop.
How could those footprints just vanish into thin air?
And why the hell had I suddenly started sleepwalking out of nowhere?
That night, at eight o'clock sharp, Meng Yifan and I met up and headed back to the apartment together.
We picked up some late-night snacks and a case of beer on the way, then holed up in the master bedroom, munching and chatting like old times.
We talked about everything—all the dumb stuff we'd gotten up to as kids, all the way to the messy adult problems we were dealing with now.
Turns out, we weren't just childhood best friends. Our dads had been buddies, and even our grandfathers had known each other. We were practically family, bound together by more than just years of friendship.
"We ain't sleeping a wink tonight," Meng Yifan declared, puffing out his chest like he owned the place. "I wanna see what the hell is going on here. And for the record? I don't believe in ghosts or any of that hocus-pocus crap. But if there is something in this house, I'll make sure it regrets ever messing with us!"
Half an hour later, we were both passed out cold on the bed, dead to the world, beer cans rolling off the mattress onto the floor.
Our "no sleeping" plan had lasted all of thirty minutes.
I didn't even feel like I'd been asleep for long when the sound of knocking jolted me out of my slumber.
This time, I didn't even think about rolling over and ignoring it. Terror shot through me, and I sat bolt upright in bed, scrambling to shake Meng Yifan awake.
"Wake up! Wake up! Someone's knocking on the door!"
Meng Yifan groaned, rolling over and squinting at me, his voice thick with sleep and irritation. "Who the hell would be knocking at this hour? You're drunk, man…"
I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand and checked the time.
It was midnight. Again.
A cold chill ran down my spine, freezing me in place as I stared at the bedroom door.
Oh no.
It couldn't be…
Was it her again? The girl looking for Li Xiumei?