1. Thief! Stop right there!

“Hi, Sister Yu.”

“Mm, hello.” The woman called “Sister Yu”…

“Hi, Sister Yu.”

“Mm, hello.” The woman addressed as “Sister Yu” looked up at the screen upon hearing the voice. Even with beauty filters, the dark circles under her eyes were still noticeable. The lucky guest connected in this live stream sounded like a young man.

The live stream screen was split in two: one half showed Yu Dongxi’s face, clearly worn out from work, and the other half… was a patch of overgrown weeds.

“What treasure do you have there for me to appraise?” This was the seventeenth person Yu Dongxi had connected with during her stream. The previous sixteen either cosplayed as Yu Dongxi or tried to pass off obvious fakes just to get on camera and leech traffic.

Yu Dongxi was a well-known, non-professional antique appraiser influencer. Her humorous live streaming style in the early days had gained her millions of followers. Even now, despite her clear lack of enthusiasm, a loyal fanbase still followed her faithfully.

By all logic, with that kind of influence, she should’ve been well off financially. But Yu Dongxi was still conspicuously broke. She didn’t sell products, didn’t take on ads, and when she streamed, she’d even turn off the tipping feature.

No intention of making money—nobody could tell if she was genuinely noble or just plain dumb.

So even if she was unmotivated, people still liked her.

At the end of the day, aside from the fact that she didn’t try to bleed fans dry, the real reason was that her live streams were just that entertaining.

“I do,” the man said, then adjusted the camera and even used a flashlight, quite professionally, to show the item he wanted to display.

It was something like a mirror, but it was covered in mottled markings. The edges looked like corroded bronze. Yu Dongxi glanced at the screen, and her water-drinking slowed noticeably.

“Hold up, bro, stop waving that flashlight around.” Yu Dongxi leaned closer to the camera, and suddenly her face filled the entire screen. “Dude, where did you get that thing?”

“A friend gave it to me.”

【That thing… don’t tell me we’ve got a tomb raider on the line?】

【Classic line: ‘a friend’】

【That thing clearly has a serious background—look at how Sister Yu sat up straight.】

“Sister Yu, I’ve got something else too.” The man adjusted the camera again—this time, it showed a bronze sword.

“Whoa!” Yu Dongxi took another sip of water. “Are those inscriptions on the sword? Flip it over so I can see.”

“Yeah, I always bring this with me when I go out.” The man zoomed in on the inscriptions. They looked a lot like oracle bone script.

“Wait a sec, bro, what do you actually do?”

“You don’t remember me? Sister Yu, here—let me show you where I am now.” The man spun the camera around. It was past midnight, and he was alone in the wilderness, surrounded by weeds and brush. “Last time you connected with me, you told me not to wander around late at night. So I listened and went straight home.”

Yu Dongxi honestly didn’t remember ever connecting with this guy.

He was probably just making stuff up. If she’d really talked to him before, there’s no way she wouldn’t remember.

Just as the camera shook for a second, Yu Dongxi suddenly shouted, “Hey hey, stop! That hole—hold on a second!”

“Which one?” The man froze, the camera now pointed directly at a small hole. “This one? You sure?”

“Definitely, definitely. Come on, move the camera closer.”

【Damn, that hole… looks like it was made with a ((Luoyang shovel (洛阳铲 Luòyáng chǎn) is a specialized archaeological tool originally developed in China, named after the city of Luoyang. It was designed for probing underground soil layers and detecting ancient tombs or relics without fully excavating the site. But—it’s most famously associated with grave robbers, especially in Chinese stories or media, where they use it to find burial chambers quickly and quietly.))Luoyang shovel.】

【Wait… can the guy see our comments?】

【He’s got serious guts.】

The man obediently moved the camera forward. “There’s another hole over there—wanna take a look?”

“Well… sure, let’s see it.” Yu Dongxi took another sip of water.

“Can you see?” After walking a short distance, the man arrived at the other hole he’d mentioned.

“Mm, get a bit closer.”

The man moved the camera a few inches forward.

“Hold on a sec, bro. Let me think what time period this might be from.” Yu Dongxi pulled out another phone, and while keeping it out of the main camera’s view, secretly recorded a video and sent it to a top-tier antique expert friend of hers.

Inside the cave-like hole was a narrow passage—an adult man would likely need to crawl to get through.

“Lower the camera a bit. The lighting’s not great—I want a better look.”

“Oh, okay.” The man pushed the camera deeper into the passage, eager for Yu Dongxi to see clearly.

“A little to the right.”

“No can do—if I go any further right, the viewers will see that thing.”

“You just dug this up, and you’re already itching to get a price on it?” Yu Dongxi joked casually.

The man chuckled a few times, not clear whether he was genuinely clueless or just pretending: “Nah, nothing like that.”

Meanwhile, her expert friend messaged back: Stay calm, and call the police.

Yu Dongxi: Do me a favor—report it for me. Thanks.

“Bro, you’ve really got some nerve. Grave robbing and you’re still bold enough to flaunt it like this? You’re basically handing me a chance to be a hero,” Yu Dongxi said with a smile, her tone light and joking while her words were deadly serious. “Dude, every single one of my live streams gets screen-recorded. And with how advanced the internet is these days, location tracking is child’s play.”

The man let out a few “heh heh” laughs, as if he didn’t care at all: “No big deal. I just want to ask—how much do you think that mirror I showed you earlier could sell for?”

“About… five hundred stars.”

One star equals ten thousand yuan.

Hearing that price, the man didn’t argue further. He even politely said “goodbye” to Yu Dongxi before ending the call.

【This grave robber is way too arrogant.】

【There’s always some weirdo in Sister Yu’s live stream.】

【Told you—Sister Yu’s stream is never a waste of time. It always delivers.】

“It’s fine. Evidence’s been collected and reported to the police,” Yu Dongxi pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long sigh. “That’s it for today. I’m logging off. Sleep early, everyone.”

These past few days, Yu Dongxi had been feeling physically and mentally exhausted—like a salted fish that had even lost its dreams. She used to be all energy, now she couldn’t muster any at all.

The next morning, before six o’clock, Yu Dongxi was already awake.

Just a few months ago, she never would’ve believed she could get up this early.

“So this is what the sun at 5 a.m. looks like,” she muttered weakly, crawling out of bed. When she checked her phone, she realized it was already December 21st.

Yu Dongxi slowly walked into the bathroom. When she saw her reflection in the mirror, she nearly jumped in fright.

Who the hell was this pale, vacant-looking, hideous woman??

Yu Dongxi even felt like she’d completely changed overnight.

Three hours later, Yu Dongxi was lying in a hospital bed.

“Life really is just fall after fall after fall… then one major fall to end it all.”

Her lips were pale, her breath faint, and there wasn’t a trace of color in her face.

At first, she thought it was just a minor illness. At least, that’s what she believed three hours ago.

Even as they wheeled her into the ward, she’d still been joking with the doctor, laughing like it was nothing. But once all the tests were done, the doctor couldn’t laugh anymore.

And neither could Yu Dongxi. She nearly burst into tears on the spot.

Her current condition was, in the doctor’s words, utterly baffling. If nothing unexpected happened, she was going to die from it.

According to the doctor, she had a rare illness. The kicker? Everyone who’d ever had this disease had, without exception, already “reported in” to the underworld for duty.

Whether it was painful or not didn’t even matter at this point—the one thing that was clear: Yu Dongxi was dying.

After hearing that news, the tight knot in her chest unexpectedly loosened. What she’d feared wasn’t dying itself—it was waiting for the sentence to be passed.

Now that it was confirmed, she almost felt relieved. So it was death, after all.

As she drifted into a daze, she vaguely saw the clock on the opposite wall: 10:34 a.m.

When she woke up, it was already evening. Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, Yu Dongxi resolutely checked herself out of the hospital.

After all, if she was going to die, she might as well spend her remaining time doing what she actually wanted.

In this not-so-big city, Yu Dongxi walked alone down the street. The streetlights were dim, casting blurry shadows on the ground. She wandered aimlessly for quite a while before finally managing to hail a cab.

As soon as she got into the car and felt the warm air, Yu Dongxi started coughing like crazy—so violently it was as if she were about to cough up a lung.

“Hey, sis, where are you headed?” The driver looked to be in his forties, spoke with a strong northeastern accent, had a rough appearance but sharp features.

“To… cough cough cough… cough… to Nanyang Cemetery,” Yu Dongxi took a deep breath and thumped her chest with her fist.

It sounded like she was about to do the “breaking stones on chest” stunt.

The driver lit up his screen and checked the time—it was already past 10 p.m. He swallowed and said, “Sis, it’s the middle of the night. You, a young girl, heading to a cemetery—aren’t you scared?”

Yu Dongxi glanced at him and replied calmly, “Oh, it’s fine. Just going to take a look… pick a nice spot.”

The driver let out a surprised “Ah?” and looked back at her. “Sis… someone in your family’s sick?”

Yu Dongxi gave a bitter smile. “It’s me.”

A wave of guilt hit the driver. He ended up not charging her at all, even though Nanyang Cemetery wasn’t exactly close. But Yu Dongxi quickly scanned the QR code and, after he left, paid him 50 yuan.

Truth be told, Yu Dongxi wasn’t rich. Over the years, her live streams never brought in much extra income. But when someone’s close to death, they become especially sensitive to the kindness and coldness of the world. And they also want to repay every bit of goodness they receive.

Yu Dongxi hadn’t been here in a long time, but no matter how much time passed, she knew her grandfather’s grave so well she could find it with her eyes closed.

Once at the cemetery, she looked around to make sure no one was around—then finally broke down and cried her heart out.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! Her life had just begun, and now it was already about to end?

It was just so unfair.

At this moment, it hit her—like waking from a dream—and her fear of death started creeping in again.

After crying her fill, she wiped her tears. Her body was in bad shape, her physical stamina had dropped sharply. Her first thought after crying was how exhausted she was—so tired she just wanted to sit down right away.

So, that’s exactly what she did.

Yu Dongxi sat right down on the ground.

“Girl, it’s the middle of the night—why aren’t you sleeping? What are you doing here?”

Hearing the voice, Yu Dongxi turned around. An old lady was standing there, holding a vintage red lantern that lit her face in flickering shadows. In the darkness, especially in a cemetery, it was a downright creepy sight.

Yu Dongxi had seen her share of intense situations while streaming antique appraisals, so at least she kept her composure (she didn’t scream on the spot).

“Granny… you’re not sleeping either? What are you doing strolling around this place at night?” Although she didn’t scream, Yu Dongxi was still startled.

“Girl, I’m the night watch around here.” The old lady took a few steps closer and pointed a finger at Yu Dongxi’s forehead. “Young lady, why’s your soul not whole?”

Over the years of doing appraisal live streams, Yu Dongxi had also run into her fair share of paranormal experiences. When it came to metaphysics, she wasn’t exactly a master, but definitely not a clueless beginner.

It’s true that when someone’s close to death, their soul might leave the body in advance. But that only happens when you’re right on the brink. She might be dying, sure—but she wasn’t that close to taking her last breath.

“Granny, you’re pretty spot-on… just a bit ahead of schedule.”

The old lady gave her another careful look. “It’s dark now—go home while you still can.”

Hearing that, Yu Dongxi turned around, bowed to her grandfather’s tombstone, and decided to leave.

Her phone kept vibrating in her pocket. When she checked it, she saw it was a private message from her streaming platform.

For streamers with a large fanbase, it’s normal not to check private messages often—there are simply too many to go through. Back in the early days, Yu Dongxi would make time to read them, but now that her work had gotten busier, she rarely looked at them anymore.

However, her platform had a special feature: when a fan over level 100 sent a private message, it triggered a unique notification sound.

Reaching level 100 was rare—only a handful of fans ever made it that far.

Yu Dongxi tapped in to take a look. Both the sender’s ID and profile picture were completely unfamiliar.

Then she read the message, and her brows furrowed.

“Sister Yu, when are you streaming tonight? My friend and I just rented a new place. We found a bunch of stuff while cleaning up, but… something about it seems off. Pretty creepy, actually.”

Yu Dongxi: What do you mean, ‘off’?

The person sent a photo.

After seeing it, Yu Dongxi immediately bolted out of the cemetery. While waiting for a ride-hailing app to match her with a driver, she was also sprinting around looking for a taxi.

In the end, she couldn’t get either. So she found a small inn nearby instead.

There was a single light turned on in front of the building. As soon as she stepped inside, what faced her wasn’t a window—it was a full-length mirror. The second she saw the mirror, Yu Dongxi slowed her steps. What kind of weird layout puts a mirror directly facing the front door?

But the situation was urgent, and she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

She headed straight to the front desk. The young woman there was absorbed in a drama on the TV and didn’t even lift her head. “Only one double room left.”

“Okay.”

Seeing how quick Yu Dongxi agreed, the woman finally looked up and processed the check-in. Her attitude was blunt, and she shoved the room card at Yu Dongxi. “It’s the room at the very end of the second floor. Take the elevator.”

Hearing the room’s location, Yu Dongxi froze for a moment. But there weren’t any other inns open for miles, so she went upstairs anyway. When she got to the second floor, she realized the entire floor was unlit. She turned on her phone’s flashlight and made her way to the room at the far end.

The moment she stepped onto the second floor, an uncomfortable feeling wrapped around her like a thick fog. After locating the room, she knocked three times—out of respect. Only after confirming there were no strange sounds from inside did she swipe the card and open the door.

Each room had a small shoe rack outside. Yu Dongxi took her shoes off and left them by the door. As soon as she walked in, that eerie feeling intensified.

Well, I won’t be here long anyway, she told herself to stay calm.

The first thing she did after entering the room was start her live stream.

Sure enough, as soon as she went live, she received a connection request from the level-100 fan. Yu Dongxi pressed the connect button and even started breathing more quietly.