Chapter Thirty-Five: Are You Just Waiting for Me to Die?

Seeing that the trainers and trainees had all settled into their roles, he began to ponder the clearance conditions for the Loon Apartments. He searched through each room, and finally, in the Hanged Man’s chamber, he discovered a large number of “Loon Apartment Guest Registration Forms.”

He summoned the three team leaders and instructed them to hide these forms in various dark corners throughout the scenes. Furthermore, he made them promise that the combined total any visitors could find would never exceed ten.

Returning to the first floor of the haunted house, he glanced at the surveillance room for the prison scene and was reminded that the Loon Apartments originally had no surveillance installed, so the system hadn’t provided a dedicated monitoring room. He hurriedly searched for the fastest online shopping platform and placed an order for a batch of surveillance equipment, hoping it could be installed before the property opened at two in the afternoon.

The monitoring room for the prison scene was spacious, with plenty of room left. Shang Yi decided that, in the future, the cameras for all scenes would be managed from this central control room. This way, every scene could be monitored in a unified manner, making management much more convenient.

After dealing with these tasks, a wave of fatigue washed over him. Just as he was about to head upstairs to rest, he noticed a newly installed passenger elevator on the first floor leading downwards. He stepped inside to try it, and discovered that the elevator directly connected to the entrance of the Loon Apartments on the basement level, as well as the exit on the second basement floor.

This greatly facilitated the movement of visitors between the underground parking lot and the haunted house scenes. It seemed the system was extremely professional in serving its guests, with meticulous attention to detail.

Shang Yi went up to the third floor, set an alarm, and lay down for a brief nap.

At eight in the morning, the alarm startled him awake. After a quick wash, he headed downstairs just in time to see Su Xiaoxue arriving for work at the haunted house, full of energy and enthusiasm.

“Boss, I brought you breakfast!” Su Xiaoxue placed a bag of steaming buns and a bottle of soy milk on the desk in the monitoring room.

Looking at Su Xiaoxue’s radiant smile and eating the warm buns, Shang Yi finally swept away the lingering horror of his midnight ordeal, filled with confidence as he began a new day’s business.

Now free from the constant worry of survival, he remembered that his midnight livestream had been abruptly cut off; he wondered how the viewers had reacted afterwards.

Because of the ghosts like Xue Ling and Tan Gong, who had manifested, and the forbidden content involved, it had been impossible to continue the broadcast openly; screening it was the only choice.

He took out his phone and opened Palm Chat. Yesterday, Tian Yuan had helped him immensely. Now that he was out of danger, he felt he owed Tian Yuan a word of thanks.

Shang Yi didn’t know what time Tian Yuan had gone to bed last night, and didn’t want to disturb him, so he left a tentative message: “Thanks for helping me contact Captain Yuan yesterday.”

He hadn’t expected Tian Yuan to call him back within seconds.

“Damn, Boss! You’re alive!” Tian Yuan’s voice was so piercing it made Shang Yi’s head ache.

“Is my death what you’ve been hoping for? Can you talk a bit quieter? Doesn’t your dorm ever sleep?”

“Sleep, my ass! Last night, our whole dorm—Yuan Rushuang, Curly, Monk, Duke, Butterfly—they were all watching your livestream. Yuan Rushuang was asking his dad about progress, but his father didn’t reply. We barely slept a wink!”

Though Tian Yuan’s words were blunt and unpolished, hearing the latter part, Shang Yi felt a bit moved. He was about to thank him, but Tian Yuan continued.

“After the stream went dark, I told them you’d found the killer’s corpse stash. They all said you were like a toad jumping into a hot oil vat—dead for sure.”

“They even bet with me: if you survived, they’d queue up for cafeteria meals on my behalf. Looks like I’ll eat hot meals all week without leaving the dorm.”

“My life isn’t as important as queuing for meals in the university cafeteria? You really don’t need to brag about your laziness to me…”

Shang Yi was speechless in the face of Tian Yuan’s iron-willed idiocy.

“Boss, it’s honestly great you’re alive. I was worried we’d hear your name in our case analysis class someday. You know, our teacher has a particular fascination for murder and corpse-hiding cases…”

“Alright, alright, thanks for your concern. Anything else? If not, I’m a bit busy here, so I’ll hang up now.” Shang Yi was already at a loss for words.

“One more thing: our police academy has an internal forum. A bunch of third-year seniors heard that department beauty Yuan Rushuang was scared to tears and fainted in your haunted house. Now they’re gnashing their teeth, itching to flatten your haunted house.”

“Someone posted a crusade notice, lots have signed up, and I reckon they’ll show up this afternoon.”

“Really? That’s great. I love brave police academy students—it’ll hugely boost my haunted house’s profile. Are you coming this afternoon?”

“Boss, you think we’re made of iron like you? Don’t you want us alive? We haven’t slept all night and need to catch up on rest during the day. No way we’re coming.”

“The six of us have already written up a walkthrough for the prison scene and posted it for the seniors. They shouldn’t all get wiped out this time.”

“That’s not certain. We’ll see about that. I’m hanging up.”

After ending the call, Shang Yi opened his short video homepage and discovered his followers had surged by over two thousand!

“My goodness, even a blacked-out livestream can gain so many fans?”

He noticed a flood of private messages, most asking the same question: “Streamer, are you dead yet?”

“These fans, can’t they talk like normal people?” Shang Yi nearly laughed out loud at their antics.

Amid the barrage of quirky greetings, one message stood out: “We are Wei Chuan Streaming Studio, ranked top ten on the Tigerfish platform. We watched your short videos and livestreams and want to offer you an opportunity. Our contact number is…”

The invitation struck Shang Yi with just two words—arrogant.

“What do you mean, ‘offer you an opportunity’? Being top ten on Tigerfish is supposed to impress me?”

“I’m running my haunted house just fine, why should I grovel and go see someone else’s face?”

He bluntly replied: “Sorry, I don’t care for Tigerfish’s top ten. I’m busy—no time to waste on your nonsense.”

Then he blocked the account for good measure, out of sight, out of mind.

He walked to the haunted house entrance and spotted Director Ni standing not far ahead, seemingly inspecting something.

Seeing the head of the amusement park personally visiting his haunted house, Shang Yi hurried over, taking three steps at a time: “Good morning, Director Ni. What brings you here today?”

Director Ni flashed his signature smile: “Xiao Yi, I already know what you did last night and early this morning.”

“You’ve become a hero. Before long, the Wintersea City Police Department will commend you, which is also an honor for our amusement park.”

“Really? Director Ni, your news is too swift—even Captain Yuan hasn’t mentioned any commendation yet.”

Caught off guard by the praise, Shang Yi scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Your videos and livestreams have caused quite a stir among young people—they’ve really added luster to your haunted house!”

“I expect the number of visitors coming for the haunted house will soon explode.”

“I’m here today to check the entrance and plan to set up some queue barriers and canopies, to provide better service for your guests.”

“Is that so? Thank you so much, Director Ni. My haunted house is just starting to gain some momentum, and I’ve been busy improving visitor experience.”

“I haven’t even gotten around to thinking about the facilities outside. Director Ni, you’re so thoughtful—thank you.”

“No need for thanks, we’re family. Today I’ll have the architect measure the area and start construction as soon as possible.”

“By the way, I brought the lease contract for the underground parking lot. Just sign it and give it to me directly—no need to trouble Uncle Li with another trip.”

Director Ni finished speaking and took two copies of the contract from his briefcase.

Shang Yi was flattered: “I don’t have a pen on me. Let’s go inside the haunted house to sign.”

He and Director Ni entered the haunted house, borrowed a black pen from Su Xiaoxue, and, feeling that signing such an important contract in front of staff seemed too casual, invited Director Ni to the monitoring room.

He spread the contract out on the desk and quickly signed his name.

Director Ni gazed intently at the screens in the monitoring room, seemingly surprised at the large-scale surveillance setup inside the haunted house.

“Is this completely modeled after the Nine Yin Mountain Prison scene?”

Shang Yi nodded: “Yes.”

Director Ni picked up one of the signed contracts, lost in thought: “Eternal sleep is not necessarily death. The words your mother left behind carry deep meaning!”

Hearing this, Shang Yi was unsure of Director Ni’s intent and did not respond.

Director Ni watched the monitors for a while, then turned to Shang Yi: “Xiao Yi, go ahead and get busy. I’ll be off now. If you need anything, look for Uncle Li, or you can call me.”

He waved to Shang Yi, indicating there was no need to see him out, and left the monitoring room.

Watching Director Ni’s departing figure, Shang Yi felt a surge of emotion: “Such a big boss personally brings me the contract—how rare. This is the network my parents left me; I must cherish it.”

Just then, Su Xiaoxue rushed in: “Boss, two guests have arrived and insist on entering the haunted house right now.”

“Really? That’s unusual. I’ll go take a look.”

Following Su Xiaoxue to the ticket booth, Shang Yi saw two people standing at the entrance.

On the left was a man in his forties, short, dark and thin, dressed in black-brown casual wear, sporting a thick beard and several scars on his face, giving him an intimidating appearance.

On the right was a boy of about ten, wearing a white tracksuit. His oversized head made his frail body seem even smaller. His complexion was pale, his eyes large but slightly rolled upward, with a hint of mental illness in his gaze.

As a business owner in the service industry, Shang Yi never judged by appearances, and greeted them with his signature professional smile: “Hello, I’m the manager of this haunted house.”