Once everything had been unpacked and settled, Lu Zizhen announced she was going to take a bath and disappeared toward the rotenburo at the back of the house.
"Open-air bath" was a bit of an exaggeration. It was technically indoors—a glass enclosure with curtains and an automatic roof shutter to keep out potential voyeurs.
But since it was noon, she had to bathe under electric light with every panel closed. It felt… unnecessarily complicated.
Meanwhile, Dou Tang went out with Huaiyin to fetch the food Lu had ordered.
The house sat on the outskirts of Nagano City—close enough to the suburbs that it still bustled, even on a weekday.
Elderly residents filled the streets, chatting and strolling beneath the pale autumn sun—a quiet reminder of how sharply the population was aging.
The younger crowd was packed into the city center; the further out you went, the grayer the hair became.
They arrived at a small shop called Kenyo-ken, the place Lu had chosen for lunch. Dou Tang wasn't sure why—
though, in truth, there were very few places she didn't seem to know.
Wherever they went, Lu Zizhen always managed to find the best local food after exorcising whatever spirit haunted the area.
He lifted the noren curtain and ducked under the low doorframe. "Excuse us," he said politely.
The shop was cozy: an open kitchen and counter on the left, several small tables on the right, and a few larger ones toward the back. It felt more like a neighborhood izakaya than a restaurant.
An elderly chef looked up from his cutting board and smiled through half-lidded eyes. "Welcome. What can I get for you?"
"I'm here to pick up an order under Lu Zizhen," Dou Tang replied.
"Ah, of course." The man gestured toward the tables. "Have a seat for a moment. It'll be ready right away."
"Thank you."
Dou Tang nodded and guided Huaiyin to a table.
A few minutes later, the bell above the door jingled, and four young people entered—camera bags, tripods, tired faces.
They looked like a small video crew.
They took the large table at the back, the man in the bucket hat slumping into his seat with a groan.
"Ugh… we've been searching for two weeks. Are we even sure that cursed place exists?"
Another guy, trendier than the rest, muttered irritably,
"All this for channel subs… I swear, if it weren't for that pink idiot—"
Pink idiot?
Dou Tang's brow twitched. That sounded… oddly familiar. He felt the faintest spark of curiosity—
a "side quest," as he jokingly called such things.
Huaiyin caught the flicker of his almost-smile and pouted. She knew that look too well.
Whenever he smiled like that—half amused, half calculating—something interesting was about to happen.
At the other table, the crew kept talking.
A bespectacled woman sighed, propping her chin on one hand.
"We can't compete… The special effects on Fall Guy's videos are insane. It's the best tokusatsu I've ever seen. Even the ghost makeup looks too real. How are we supposed to fight that on a shoestring budget?"
Ah. So his work had practically put them out of business. Dou Tang couldn't help a helpless shake of his head.
Huaiyin, however, smiled faintly, pleased to hear her "brother" praised— even by rivals.
"Should we even go this afternoon?" another asked. "I'm exhausted. Let's just head back to the hotel."
"Not yet," said the man in the bucket hat. "We'll go into the mountains tomorrow morning. I've gathered a ton of photos—there's definitely something out there!"
"Have you ever thought that maybe those rumors are true?" the woman asked quietly. "What if it's actually dangerous?"
"This is our last shot at beating the Fall Guy channel! If we fail, we'll have to switch genres entirely. Come on, I've still got car payments!"
Dou Tang sighed inwardly. No one's life is easy, huh.
He didn't dwell on the conversation. When the food was ready, he thanked the owner, took the lacquered boxes, and left with Huaiyin.
By the time they returned, Lu Zizhen had finished her bath.
She sat cross-legged in the living room, yawning, wearing a loosely tied kimono that looked one careless tug away from slipping open.
Her damp hair clung to her neck; she smelled faintly of soap and steam.
"Ahhh, finally," she groaned. "If you'd taken any longer, I'd have fallen asleep."
Dou Tang set the lacquered boxes on the table. The restaurant had packed the food with almost ceremonial care—deep red wood, gold trim, perfectly arranged.
"This place came recommended," Lu said smugly as she flipped open a lid. "Everything here's a signature dish."
While she unpacked the food, she switched on the old TV in the corner.
The picture was slightly faded, the speakers crackly, but the sound of that nostalgic jingle mingled oddly well with the tatami mats, the wooden beams, and the sight of a woman in kimono.
For a moment, it felt like time had slipped—like they were living in a photograph. Then Lu Zizhen cheerfully shattered the illusion.
"Hey, guess what? Our Twitter followers just broke a hundred thousand!"
So much for the atmosphere.
She tugged at the neckline of her kimono, revealing a flash of pale skin. Huaiyin shot her a look of open disapproval, but Dou Tang only kept eating.
"The fabric smells like… ten-year-old cornflakes," Lu complained. "Damp and weird."
Dou Tang decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. "When do we head for that mansion?"
"Hmm? Tomorrow," she mumbled through a yawn. "So sleepy… I'm taking a nap after lunch."
Her exhaustion was unusual—far deeper than a bit of driving fatigue. It puzzled him; he'd never seen her look so drained.
After dinner, Dou Tang returned the empty boxes to the shop. The four from earlier were gone. He picked up some supplies from a convenience store on the way back.
When he opened the door again, Lu Zizhen was already asleep on the first-floor futon. Huaiyin, in her pajamas, sat quietly in the living room watching TV.
Their schedules had all been a mess lately—Huaiyin plagued by strange dreams, Dou Tang barely sleeping at all, and Lu Zizhen… whatever was wearing her down.
Dou Tang sat beside Huaiyin.
Without a word, she leaned against him, resting her small head on his shoulder.
"You haven't been sleeping much these days," he said softly. "Want to turn in early?"
She gave a tiny hum of agreement through her nose, eyes already drooping. "I can carry you upstairs."
She caught his sleeve, shaking her head.
"No… don't go to the room. If we go there, you won't… stay here. I want to stay here."
He hesitated, then nodded.
It was true—sharing a bedroom again would be hard to explain. But a nap together on the sofa… that was innocent enough.
Huaiyin crawled closer, curling up in his arms.
As he reached to switch off the TV, she nudged him backward, and he let himself fall half-reclined onto the tatami.
Her small body pressed against his side, one hand resting lightly on his chest. Her lashes fluttered once, twice—and then she was asleep.
Dou Tang lay there awkwardly, barely breathing, trapped by the fragile warmth against him. If she were awake, he'd never allow this kind of closeness.
But asleep…
He sighed, giving in just a little, and closed his eyes. For the first time in days, the house felt peaceful—
a delicate, fleeting pocket of warmth amid the chaos waiting beyond its paper walls.
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon if you're interested: patreon.com/FicBridge