Eleven thousand and eleven

A sudden, inexplicable chill surged through Yu Xia’s heart, quickly spreading to her limbs. The cold seeped into her bones, causing her to shiver violently several times.

“Ah—” The chill jolted Yu Xia’s consciousness back.

With her sharp scream, everyone turned to look at her in unison, asking anxiously, “What’s wrong?”

Trembling with fear, Yu Xia pointed toward the small courtyard outside. “There’s a... a monster... a strange creature!”

She had wanted to say “strange person,” but who could possibly look so bizarre, with a head two or three times the size of a normal human’s?

The people inside the shop looked out confusedly and somewhat bewildered, but all they saw were a few staff members who had also been drawn over by Yu Xia’s sudden panicked scream.

“It’s real!”

Yu Xia’s voice had changed pitch, her terror unmistakably genuine. She seemed to recall something and shakily pointed at a young woman about eighteen or nineteen years old among the rushing staff. “You saw it too, didn’t you?”

If she remembered correctly, the strange figure had suddenly vanished into thin air only after sensing the arrival of this young woman.

The girl appeared frightened as well, fumbling with her phone as if about to call someone. Yet when asked, she flatly denied it, “No, I didn’t see anything.”

This girl was none other than Miao Ke, sent by Miao Guangming to join the production team to find Shen Xiaotang. To prevent widespread panic, she naturally had to deny seeing anything.

“How could you possibly not see it?” Yu Xia was already in a state of panic. She seemed to grasp at a lifeline and abruptly turned to Shen Xiaotang: “What about you? You must have seen it, right?”

Shen Xiaotang, like the young girl before her, calmly responded, “No.”

She knew exactly what that thing was; to her, it hardly qualified as something strange.

Yu Xia naturally refused to accept this. She was certain she hadn’t been mistaken, especially since the creature had given her an indescribable sense of dread.

Online viewers began to discuss fervently:

“What on earth happened? Why did Yu Xia suddenly lose her mind?”

“From what Yu Xia said, it sounds like she saw some terrifying monster.”

“No way! Could it be something dirty?”

“In broad daylight? Impossible! Didn’t Yu Xia ask Xiaotang and that female staff member? They all said they didn’t see anything.”

“But judging by how scared Yu Xia looked, it didn’t seem fake…”

“I agree! I’ve carefully reviewed the video and screenshots—Yu Xia’s pupils dilated significantly when she was frightened!”

Meanwhile, Shen Xingyan, who had rushed over, grabbed Shen Xiaotang and pulled her behind him, his face dark as he shouted at Sun Qiang, who was guarding the filming area in the crowd, “Director, my kid is timid and can’t handle being scared!”

Shen Xiaotang poked her head out from his right side, quietly protesting, “Uncle, there’s no way I’m scared…”

Before she could finish, Shen Xingyan forcefully pushed her head back down with his hand.

“Teacher Yu, I think you’re just too tired and hallucinated. All around us are our staff; there’s no way anything could just wander in,” Sun Qiang said, his anger barely contained like a volcano ready to erupt. Yet for the sake of the show, he had to soothe Yu Xia as best as he could.

The production team quickly retrieved footage from the courtyard’s surveillance cameras, but unsurprisingly, nothing was captured.

Yu Xia nodded blankly, seemingly accepting this explanation.

She had no choice but to accept it—she had worked so hard to gain fame and couldn’t bear for everything to be ruined by this.

After all, this was a recording mishap caused by her personally!

Other production teams would be wary of working with her in the future!

The filming resumed.

Yu Xia composed herself and didn’t forget to sincerely apologize to everyone: “Sorry, I’ve been overworked and exhausted recently, which caused me to be on edge and hallucinate.”

Under the camera’s lens, no matter what they truly thought, everyone showed understanding and tolerance.

Yang Yue, Yan Li, and others expressed genuine concern for her.

The filming continued. According to the prior game rules, the parents had to return to the cat-free area.

Shen Xingyan leaned toward Shen Xiaotang’s ear and sternly reminded her once more, “Stay away from Yu Xia. Don’t get too close to her.”

No matter how much Yu Xia tried to mask her emotions, her eyes still betrayed her true feelings.

Shen Xingyan was genuinely worried that Yu Xia might lose control of her emotions again. Throughout the entire recording, his gaze flickered constantly between Shen Xiaotang and Yu Xia.

His behavior didn’t go unnoticed by the guests on the show or the sharp-eyed netizens.

“Wow! If it weren’t for Shen Xingyan’s weird looks, I’d almost suspect he has a crush on Yu Xia!”

“Hahaha... a crush? Only he would be that intense watching some scary person!”

“Judging by Shen Xingyan’s nervous expression, it’s confirmed! Shen Xiaotang must be his niece!”

While most netizens were discussing Shen Xingyan’s overly suspicious vigilance toward Yu Xia, a small group noticed something else unusual.

“Did Yu Xia just glance up at the courtyard again?”

“Yes, yes... I noticed too. After regaining her composure, Yu Xia kept looking toward the courtyard every so often!”

“But didn’t Yu Xia say she just had a hallucination?”

“If that were true, would she keep looking outside like that?”

“Oh shoot! She just looked again...”

Sun Qiang, who was closely monitoring the cameras nearby, felt an indescribable frustration.

But without a real emergency, there was no way to pause the recording. Sun Qiang could only stay vigilant, watching Yu Xia closely while silently praying.

Thankfully, by the grace of heaven, the daytime segment ended smoothly.

But next came a brief live broadcast segment before bedtime.

After dinner, the guests would return to their rooms to see if they were visited by the adorable cats.

For this, the production team had installed small doors at the bottom of each guest room’s door, allowing the cats to come and go freely.

Those who had raised cats knew well that cats only approach to sleep when they trust and depend on you enough.

Yu Xia was well aware that her earlier behavior had greatly displeased the production team, and it was very likely they wouldn’t renew her contract after this shoot.

If she wanted to salvage the situation, she had to prove her indispensability during the remaining recording.

While the other guests busily used the points they’d earned from the daytime games to exchange for cat treats and toys, attracting the cats to follow them back to their rooms, Yu Xia went to the handwashing station by the shop’s entrance to sanitize her hands.

After washing, she didn’t use the paper towels provided by the crew but instead accepted a wet wipe from her assistant, Zhu Fang, who had quickly come over.

Yu Xia carefully wiped her hands with the wet wipe and politely handed it back to Zhu Fang.

Once done, she returned inside and began attracting the cats with the same tools as everyone else, truly embodying what it meant to be a “cat magnet.”

Like she’d cast a spell, a dozen cats instantly gathered around her, competing to lick her hands.

Unsurprisingly, while other guests could only attract two or three cats each, Yu Xia held one cat after another as she brought them into her room.

For a moment, Yu Xia, seemingly “covered” with cats, starkly contrasted with Shen Xingyan, who had none.

“LOL! Why does Shen Xingyan look like he’s facing a mortal enemy?”

“Shen Xingyan: Stay away from me!”

“I don’t get why Shen Xingyan hates cats so much. Why did the production team invite him?”

“Why else? For the views!”

“Seriously? This show is about cute pets and kids interacting. Shen Xingyan has no interaction at all—what’s the point?”

“Well, not entirely none...”

Indeed, not entirely none. Because the little black-and-white kitten that clung to Shen Xiaotang refused to be shooed away, she had no choice but to carry it back to her room.

The production team arranged either suites or adjacent rooms for each group of guests so parents could watch over their children.

Shen Xingyan and Shen Xiaotang’s rooms were next to each other.

“Watch it closely, don’t let it run into my room!” Shen Xingyan warned.

Shen Xiaotang almost pounded her chest in assurance: “Uncle, don’t worry!”

Satisfied, Shen Xingyan returned to his room to rest.

Shen Xiaotang also carried the little black-and-white kitten back to her room.

However, just as the production team announced that the overnight sleep monitoring would be turned off, the doors of two rooms—one in the staff area downstairs and one in the guest area upstairs—were almost simultaneously knocked.

Upstairs, Shen Xiaotang opened her door to find Miao Ke standing there, visibly anxious but still remembering Miao Guangming’s instructions. She bowed politely, “Greetings, Daoist Shen. I am Miao Ke from the A City office in South China. I beg your pardon for the intrusion. May I borrow a knife and request a divination?”

Shen Xiaotang’s gaze fell on the faintly glowing black bracelet on Miao Ke’s left wrist — the identification of a netherworld official assigned to work among mortals. She had seen the same on Shen Yidao’s wrist before.

Normally, she would have agreed to the divination request, but she shook her head. “It’s already too late.”

Miao Ke grew even more desperate. “I earnestly beg for your help, Daoist Shen! If I don’t get it soon, someone else might be killed by it!”

Shen Xiaotang replied calmly, “Then you should understand that past sins cannot be dispelled.”

Her words stunned Miao Ke.

What Shen Xiaotang meant was that if the sins had been committed before, there was no way to undo them.

Before Miao Ke could press for details, a piercing cat’s cry—barely audible to ordinary ears—came from somewhere upstairs.

Shen Xiaotang gave her a look that plainly said, “See? Is this even salvageable?”

Miao Ke’s face instantly paled. She could say no more and, after a moment’s hesitation, dashed toward the source of the sound.

Meanwhile, in a room near the staircase upstairs, a sudden “click” sounded as the door was opened again, letting in a cold breeze.

It was “again” because earlier, worried that Yu Xia might be emotionally affected by the daytime incident, Zhu Fang had stood guard with a sleep-aid spray at the door. As soon as she received notice that the monitoring was off, she pushed the door open.

Upon entering, Zhu Fang found Yu Xia uncontrollably furious, her face distorted in rage as she grabbed the front paw of a plump orange tabby and bit down hard.

The cat yowled in pain, struggling fiercely with a heart-wrenching “meow.”

Seeing this, Zhu Fang, experienced and quick-witted, immediately closed and locked the door, then hurried over to wrest the cat from Yu Xia’s mouth.

“You’re crazy! This is a filming set!”

But Zhu Fang didn’t release the cat immediately. Despite its frantic struggles, she carefully examined it to ensure there were no visible wounds before breathing a sigh of relief.

Yu Xia spat out cat fur from her mouth, “You don’t need to be so nervous. I know my limits.”

“You knowing doesn’t mean you should—”

Suddenly, the sound of a lock turning cut off Zhu Fang’s words.

The two were startled and exchanged a silent glance. Yu Xia composed herself and called out, “Who is it?”

No one answered, but the door, which Zhu Fang had just locked from the inside, opened on its own.

“Y-you, who are you...?”

Yu Xia and Zhu Fang trembled with terror, their eyes fixed on the multicolored figure stepping inside.

Answering them was a series of eerie, sinister chuckles, heralding the start of a familiar nightmare—a cruel “caged beast” killing game they knew all too well.