The next day, Taoyuan Square.
Zhang Fan stood at the entrance, staring at the tall building in front of him, hesitating to go in.
"Why the hell is it in this damn place?"
Taoyuan Square, located in Yujing City's Jinning District—top-notch real estate, but also one of the city's most notorious haunted spots.
Rumor has it, the Dragon Vein runs right through Jinning District, always a hot spot for business. But since Taoyuan Square was built, accidents kept happening—every year someone dies a mysterious death.
Some say Taoyuan Square's position is extremely unusual, set right atop the seven Dragon Fangs of the Dragon Vein, making it especially dangerous.
Back in the day, a Daoist buried seven coffins here, called the Seven-Star Seal, also known as Seven Coffins Exorcism. Basically, it's like hanging bait at the spot of the Dragon's Fang—feed the Dragon at the mouth and you'll be spared the bloodshed.
Later, during the construction of Taoyuan Square, the seven coffins were dug up, spoiling the original feng shui pattern, after which weird incidents never stopped. On top of that, the word "Square" inscribed on the building has calligraphy like writhing Dragon and Snake, looking eerily like the word for "corpse"—so locals call it Taoyuan Corpse Yard.
"Hell, I'm a Daoist now—what the fuck am I afraid of?"
Zhang Fan curled his lip and promptly slapped himself in the face.
After his trip to Zhenwu Mountain, his whole outlook got flipped. Even if there's real supernatural shit out there, he's part of the system now, so nothing's taboo for him.
Thinking this, Zhang Fan strode right in.
"Doesn't seem as deserted as the rumors say."
Just past noon, Taoyuan Square wasn't exactly bustling, but it hadn't sunk to ghost town levels either—plenty of people coming and going.
Zhang Fan grew up in Yujing City, but this was actually his first time here.
"Seventeenth floor…"
He checked Night Not Bright's address on his phone, found the office tower's elevator, and hit seventeen.
"Broken?"
He pressed the button twice, but the elevator didn't respond at all. Frowning, he was about to step away when the seventeenth floor button suddenly lit up, and the elevator started moving up, slowly.
"Probably just old wiring,"
Zhang Fan thought of all those legends about Taoyuan Square and started rationalizing to himself.
Ding…
Reaching the seventeenth floor, the elevator doors slid open—Zhang Fan felt a chill run down his spine, a surge of icy air washing over him.
"What the…"
Any place loaded with Yin Qi has a weird magnetic field, worse than anywhere else. Not only do cell phones lose signal, but the temperature drops noticeably too.
"This place is seriously haunted."
Zhang Fan's face darkened as he stepped out cautiously. From his professional perspective, this building was definitely not clean.
"Fuck, which asshole cranked the AC so low? Don't they know the wiring's ancient? Aren't they worried about a blackout… shit…"
Right then, a loud, cranky voice yelled from one of the nearby companies next to the elevator.
"..."
"Po Jie's right—trust in science."
Zhang Fan glanced around. There were five or six companies on the seventeenth floor; Night Not Bright was at the far end.
"Better hit the bathroom first."
First time at an interview, Zhang Fan was a little nervous—after all, his paycheck was on the line. Where else could a fresh grad land a ten-thousand-a-month gig these days?
He headed to the restroom at the end of the corridor and walked in. The yellowed lights flickered and buzzed—clearly, the wiring really was shot.
"Huh!?"
Watching those twitchy lights, Zhang Fan couldn't help recalling scenes from horror movies. They say the bathroom is the place with the heaviest Yin Qi, the filthiest spot…
Supposedly, every year people die in Taoyuan Square's bathrooms—especially last year. A middle-aged uncle, jobless and angry after getting stiffed on wages, snuck into the building at midnight and hanged himself right in the stall…
Next morning, the cleaning lady nearly dropped dead from the shock…
"No ghosts around… everything online is bullshit."
Zhang Fan relieved himself, feeling the tension melt away; after a shake or two, he strolled out of the bathroom, steps light as air.
Just then, the flickering lights sputtered even harder, and from the furthest, empty stall came the unmistakable sound of flushing.
"Holy shit… was that even a person? I nearly blew my cover, scared out of my soul."
"Who was that? All I saw was a flash of fire… These days, all those overtime workers are more pissed than us… whatever…"
"Broad daylight and still this shit—being a ghost ain't easy anymore."
"This building really is as evil as they say…"
In the deserted bathroom, with old lights flickering and the drip-drip of water, whispered voices mingled in the shadows like a fever dream.
...
Night Not Bright Culture Co., Ltd.
Zhang Fan peered through the glass door. The company was tiny—the main area had five or six desks, with two separate offices to the side. Not even a reception desk.
He walked in, but Wen He was nowhere to be seen.
"Excuse me… anyone here?"
"Come in."
Just then, the door to the innermost office swung open…
A middle-aged man stepped out, features sharp—a pretty decent-looking guy, except for a scruffy beard and messy appearance, clearly didn't care much for grooming. More importantly, he was dressed head-to-toe in plain white, kind of like…
Mourning clothes!
"Here for the interview?" The man stood at the office door, sizing up Zhang Fan.
"And you are…?" Zhang Fan asked.
"I'm Bai Buran… the boss here. Come on in."
"Bai Buran? The boss?"
Zhang Fan blinked in surprise and quickly followed him into the office. Inside was even shabbier—desk piled with junk and anime figurines…
"Otaku?"
Zhang Fan's expression got weird. Looking at those bikini-clad figurines, his eyes drifted to the wall—there, in a corner, hung half a broken Bronze Sword.
"Zhang Fan… right…" Bai Buran lounged in his chair, speaking offhand.
"Yeah!" Zhang Fan nodded—seems he was the only one interviewing today.
"Congratulations, you're hired."
"Huh!?"
Zhang Fan blinked again: "You haven't asked anything and I haven't said anything—just like that, I'm hired?"
"Kid, you want the whole formal routine?" Bai Buran squinted, smiling. "Alright, let's do it for you."
"Afraid of too much work? Hate troublesome tasks?"
"I…"
"Don't worry, don't fuss—there's always more work."
Before Zhang Fan could answer, Bai Buran kept going: "Kid, if you land this job, are you gonna slack off?"
"I…"
"You slack, I slack, and the boss ends up homeless." Bai Buran cut in, "Best not, kid—young folks should keep motivated."
"..."
"If there's dirty work or hard jobs, will you race to do them?"
"Uh, well, I…"
"You skip it, I skip it, boss's picking trash next year." Bai Buran interrupted, "If you don't, who will?"
"..."
"Last question… how do you feel about overtime?" Bai Buran finally got serious.
"About overtime, my take is…"
"Work late, always blue, every day a monkey moving bricks too." Bai Buran's lips curled up, grinning.
"Huh!?"
"Just kidding, kid—you have no sense of humor, do you?"
Bai Buran's smile widened: "Relax, we don't pay extra for overtime here."
"Oh, then I'll just—wait, no overtime pay?" Zhang Fan blinked in confusion.
"We don't encourage overtime—totally voluntary." Bai Buran showed his 'big boss' attitude.
"If you're good with that, start Monday. Three months probation, eight thousand a month; once you're permanent, it's ten grand, commissions on top."
With that, Bai Buran got up and shook Zhang Fan's hand.
"Uh…"
Zhang Fan was still dazed, barely reacting before he found himself ushered out the door.
"That's it? I thought the interview would be way tougher."
Zhang Fan muttered to himself, heading for the elevator and hitting ground floor.
"Huh? Broken again?"
The elevator did nothing. Zhang Fan hit the button a couple more times.
Just then, the doors creaked open—a shadow dashed in.
"Kid, how'd you get up here?"
It was an old security guard, hair white as snow, wrinkles everywhere—had to be sixty-something at least. He was breathing heavily, eyes locked on Zhang Fan, tense.
"Took the elevator… came for a job interview…" Zhang Fan, nervous the guy might think he was some troublemaker, tried to explain.
"Interview?" The old guard's face changed, smashing the elevator button—
The elevator slowly descended, and only then did his expression relax a bit.
"What's wrong?"
"Seventeenth floor's been shut down for ages—there's no company up there. Job interview? With who?" The old guard grimaced.
"Huh!?" Zhang Fan couldn't help reacting.
"Kid… when you get home, don't say a word about this—not one. Act like nothing happened…" The old guard stared at Zhang Fan, hesitated, then finally warned him.
Ding…
At that moment, the elevator reached the ground floor. With the old guard guiding him, Zhang Fan stepped out, glanced up at the building, confused. When he turned around—the old guy was gone.
"Excuse me…"
Zhang Fan walked to the lobby, found a young security guard, and asked, "Where's the old guard with the white hair? I wanted to ask him something."
"Old guard!?" The younger guard looked blank, then gave Zhang Fan a suspicious once-over.
"None of our guards are older than thirty-five…"
"What old guard?"