Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 70 Entering the Museum
Just as he was about to back down, a hoarse voice came from the doorway:
"Oh, such a big fuss, what's this? Got your eye on Yan's run-down restaurant?"

An elderly woman carrying a vegetable basket slowly walked by; the basket was filled with incense, candles, paper money, and a bundle of fresh wormwood.

She was Granny Xue, who ran an incense and candle shop at the entrance of the alley. She was always smiling and cheerful, often offering tea to her neighbors, and frequently bringing those who needed "special cleaning" to the photo studio for "confidence."

She glanced at the group of people drilling into the arm, shook her head, and a meaningful, cold smile played on her lips:
“You’d better be careful if you actually go in. A few days ago, the landlord brought a few fierce-looking thugs and said he wanted to take back the house. But he was so scared that he scrambled out of the house in less than five minutes, his pants were all wet! He was yelling that all those photos on the wall were staring at them.”

Grandma Xue lowered her voice suddenly, tapped her eyelid with her finger, and stared intently at the drill arm: "I'm not just saying this casually. Those two thugs are still lying in the hospital, their eyes empty like dead people. They even yell 'Don't look at me' when they see people during the day..."

After saying that, she picked up her basket and slowly walked away, as if nothing had happened.

The faint smell of paper ash and incense lingered in the air for a long time.

Xu Yan, at the opportune moment, revealed a hint of bewilderment and helplessness, and added in a low voice:
"Is that so? I just reminded them not to touch things... I didn't expect such a big reaction."

After saying that, he turned his head and nodded to Granny Xue: "Granny, it's cold. Come in and have some tea before you leave."

Granny Xue simply smiled, a smile that carried a hint of something that was hard to discern—whether it was kindness or coldness.

She shook her head, lifting the incense and paper money in her hand: "No, no, I still have to deliver this basket to the City God Temple. You be careful."

After saying that, she turned and slowly walked away.

In the dim light, the figure seemed thinner and longer than usual, as if it had blended into the night.

Granny Xue's words were like a blow to the head, knocking the drill arm until its face turned ashen.

He rose to the Silver level by subduing countless ghosts, and this title was hard-earned. If he were to be scared off by a few words from a widow in the alley, how would he face others?
Even if he's put on the spot, he has to bite the bullet and rush in.

"Hmph, I'd like to see what kind of demons and monsters could scare people like that!"

Without further hesitation, his towering figure smashed through Xu Yan's half-closed obstruction and strode into the photo studio.

Seeing this, the two team members had no choice but to bite the bullet and follow.

The sound stopped abruptly as soon as the drill bit's iron boots stepped over the threshold.

It wasn't quiet, but a deathly stillness, as if it were stuffed into soundproofing material.

The last team member to enter instinctively wanted to look back at the door, but found that the wooden door was indistinct in the shadows, as if it had receded into a very distant place.

He took a deep breath, the strong smell of incense and medicine making his throat tight.

Looking up, the entire wall of portraits, like a black and white tide, crashed down on me.

The eyes in those picture frames, regardless of age or gender, all focused their empty gazes on the three intruders at the same moment.

Just then, a faint, ethereal, yet incredibly clear dirge emanated from some unknown corner.

It was as if a funeral procession was slowly passing through another dimension, plaintive and sorrowful.

"Huh?!" The drill arm suddenly turned its head, its sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. "What's going on here?"

Xu Yan explained calmly, even with a touch of professionalism:

"Don't mind it, this is an old tradition of our photo studio. When customers come, we will automatically play some background music to create an atmosphere."

His hand, which was behind his back, twitched almost imperceptibly. Using the remaining power of the small boat, he slightly increased the volume of the funeral music, making the sound more real, as if it were being whispered in his ear.

The two team members turned even paler; the atmosphere was truly chilling.

Drill Arm frowned. He was certain the sound was eerie, but couldn't pinpoint its source. He could only feign composure: "Playing tricks! Search!"

One of the team members walked to the workbench and flipped through the photo album filled with strange, discarded photos.

He flipped through the pages absentmindedly until his fingertips stopped on a discarded film of a dark doorknob. "Boss, look at this." His voice trembled slightly.

The drill arm walked over and stared down at it.

Just as Xu Yan turned his head to look over, a grating, screeching sound came from the corner.

Another team member had already impatiently pulled open the oldest row of elm wood filing cabinets.

The neatly stacked, yellowed files inside resembled sleeping tombstones.

【E15—The Vengeful Ghost—Qingshan Lake Heart—1997】

【E18—Little Boy—Dongsheng Road—2002】

【E19—Hanged Ghost—Mountain Temple—2009】

Deep inside the cabinet, several files with blurred numbers and ominous black stains seeping from their edges seemed to undulate slightly, like sleeping living things.

"What the hell is this?"

The team member frowned, casually pulled out a roll of E15, weighed it in his hand like it was trash, and pinched a corner between his fingertips.

"do not move!"

Xu Yan shouted to stop him, his voice even changing tone.

The team member was startled, then became enraged: "A pile of scraps of paper, who are you trying to scare?!"

"Thorn."

Time seemed to be stretched at this moment.

The team member looked at the yellowed piece of paper he had torn off, a defiant expression on his face.

However, the expected reprimand did not come.

The museum fell into an absolute silence more terrifying than deathly stillness; even the eerie funeral music had vanished.

Xu Yan's pupils suddenly contracted.

The drill arm felt as if its heart was being gripped by an icy hand.

Then, the hygrometer needle in the corner, as if it had seen a ghost, began to swing wildly toward the end...

A heart-wrenching scream suddenly rang out from a street corner in the distance: "Water! Something in the water is grabbing my foot...!"

Then came a violent splashing sound, and then everything stopped abruptly, falling into dead silence.

Xu Yan and Zuanbi and the others seemed to be hallucinating, catching a faint, distant, and endlessly resentful and desperate lament from a woman before it was completely extinguished.

The woman from the lake's heart... has been completely erased from the world.

This is not salvation, but a more thorough "forgetting" than the soul being scattered, an absolute erasure of all traces of existence!

The hand of the team member who caused the trouble reached for another file, its number blurred and stained with black marks.

“Touch it again,” Xu Yan’s voice was as cold as the wind from the depths of hell, his eyes filled with undisguised killing intent, “and what you tear apart won’t just be the wandering ghosts in the lake. What will come back then… will be something that can drag the whole street into hell. None of you will escape.”

The air in the entire photo studio seemed to have turned into a thick, sticky substance, so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

(End of this chapter)