Chapter 1: The Theater Ghost Returns Home

"Who... am I?"

Boom—

Pale lightning tore through the ink-black clouds.

Rain poured in torrents, a god's wrath drenching the muddy earth. In the rippling puddles, a crimson figure shattered into pieces.

It was a young man draped in a bright red opera robe. He staggered through the mud like a drunkard, his wide sleeves whipping in the gale. The rain washed away the dirt caked on the robe, and that blood-like red was jarring against the dark night.

"Shut up... shut up!"

"All of you, shut your mouths!"

"I'm about to remember... just about... to remember..."

"I have a name... a name that belongs to me!"

The young man's soaked black hair hung down to his brows, his unfocused eyes full of confusion. He dragged himself forward with difficulty, both hands clutching his head, as if struggling to recall something.

His roars echoed down the empty street, but didn't travel far before drowning in the endless curtain of rain.

Thud—

In the gloom, his body tripped over a jutting rock and slammed hard into the ground!

A streak of scarlet blood rolled down from the young man's temple. He lay there blankly, then suddenly seemed to remember something. A faint light sparked in his murky eyes.

"Chen Ling..."

A name flashed through his mind.

The instant he spoke those two syllables, a memory fragment drifted out from the endless whispers that were nearly bursting his skull, fusing with this weak body.

"What is this... transmigration?"

Chen Ling frowned deeply. He kept digesting this body's memories, his brain splitting with pain.

His name was Chen Ling, twenty-eight years old, an intern director at a theater in the capital. That day, after the show ended, he was alone on stage designing the actors' blocking. Then a violent earthquake hit. He only felt a sharp pain on top of his head before losing consciousness completely.

Thinking about it now, he'd most likely been crushed to death by a falling spotlight...

And right now, Chen Ling was digesting this body's memories bit by bit. To his surprise, the original owner of this body was also named Chen Ling. But their basic understanding of the world was completely different. The fragmented memories clashed and fought each other, making Chen Ling feel like his brain was about to explode.

He took deep breaths over and over, struggling to climb off the ground. The opera robe was stained black and red, utterly wretched.

For some reason, his body was incredibly heavy. Like the exhaustion after staying up four or five nights straight writing scripts, feeling completely hollowed out...

"Let's go home first..."

His exhausted body and fractured thoughts left him barely able to think. He could only rely on this body's instincts, walking toward "home."

He didn't know how he got here, but the original owner's memories held this place. Every day, after taking care of his younger brother at the clinic, he'd walk this route. From here to home, it usually only took two or three minutes.

But for him right now, this stretch of road was longer than ever before.

The bone-chilling rainwater flowed all over Chen Ling's body. He couldn't stop shivering. After forcing himself through the cold and exhaustion for ten minutes in the rain, he finally stood before the door from his memories.

Chen Ling fumbled in his pockets for a while, realizing he had no keys on him.

So, with practiced ease, he reached under the newspaper box by the door, pulled out a spare key, and unlocked the door.

Creak—

Warm light spilled out from inside, illuminating a corner of the pitch-black rainy night, and lighting up Chen Ling's pale face.

The moment he saw that light, Chen Ling's tense nerves naturally relaxed. The cold and exhaustion on his body seemed to be driven back a little by this single lamp.

He stepped into the room and saw two figures sitting on either side of the dining table, their eyes red-rimmed, as if they'd just finished crying.

Hearing the door open, the two froze for a second, then turned their heads at the same time.

"Dad... Mom... I'm back."

Chen Ling's head was swimming. He subconsciously prepared to change his shoes at the door, only to realize he'd been barefoot from the start. Right now, his soles and the gaps between his toes were packed with mud, already stamping two big black footprints onto the floor.

The two figures sitting at the dining table saw the red-robed Chen Ling push through the door, and their pupils contracted violently!

"You... you..."

The man's Adam's apple bobbed. His mouth hung open, looking like he'd seen a ghost.

"Mom... is there water at home? I'm so thirsty." Back home, Chen Ling's guard dropped completely. His consciousness was already on the edge of passing out. Muttering to himself, he stumbled into the kitchen, grabbed the water jug off the dispenser, and drank greedily.

Gulp, gulp, gulp...

In the kitchen, that red-robed figure was like a beast, swallowing the water ravenously.

Water leaking from the corners of his mouth dripped onto the floor, pooling into a puddle that reflected the two terrified, pale faces in the living room.

"A... Ah Ling?" The woman forced herself to be brave, her voice trembling. "How... how did you come back?"

Chen Ling hugged the jug and swallowed frantically, not hearing her words at all. Then, seeming to think drinking like this was too slow, he shoved the fist-sized spout of the jug directly into his mouth and bit it to pieces!

Synthetic plastic crunched loudly as he chewed. Water surged wildly into his mouth, refreshing and satisfying!

"I walked back."

A voice came from behind Chen Ling.

Yes... from behind.

Right now, Chen Ling was still immersed in gulping water, yet his voice fell clearly into the ears of the two people.

As if standing in the invisible void behind him was another red-robed Chen Ling, spreading his hands and answering matter-of-factly.

"The rain was pretty heavy, and I think I got lost."

"Seems like I fell a few times on the way, and my shoes are gone too..."

"Mom, I dirtied the floor. If it's not urgent, let me clean it up when I wake up tomorrow... I'm too sleepy right now."

Looking at this spine-chilling scene, the man and woman in the living room felt a chill run down the backs of their necks. The kerosene flame in the glass lamp flickered constantly, as if an invisible hand was playfully toying with the wick.

Their faces were ashen, but they stood frozen in place, not daring to move an inch.

Finally, the jug was drained.

Chen Ling wiped his mouth, set the jug down, then turned around. Leaving a black footprint with every step across the floor, he stumbled toward his bedroom...

"Dad, Mom... you guys should sleep early too. Goodnight."

He mumbled unclearly, pulled the door shut behind him, followed by the dull thud of a heavy weight hitting the bed.

The living room fell into dead silence.

Who knows how long passed before those two statue-like figures stiffly turned their heads... looking at each other.

The flickering wick steadied. The eerie kerosene light barely illuminated the dim living room. They sat trembling in their chairs, not a drop of color left in their faces.

"He... came back," the man rasped. "How is that possible..."

"If he really is Ah Ling..."

"Then who did we kill last night?"