Chapter 29: The House of Pursuit (Part Two)

Huang Yaruo seemed unaccustomed to speaking in front of the camera. "It all started when I bought my apartment. I had been working since I was 16, and by 35, I used all my savings plus money from my parents to buy a place. The location was excellent. I was overjoyed, thinking I finally had a home of my own."

"I was involved in every step of the renovation, from the wallpaper in every bedroom to the pattern and color of the flooring, including the color temperature of the lights. I controlled everything."

Huang produced her renovation plan. "The renovation took six full months. I tore things down and redid them twice because I wasn't satisfied. The contractor told me to just settle, but I couldn't. This apartment represented my entire net worth; I might never be able to afford a second one in my lifetime. I wanted it to be perfect; I didn't want any regrets."

"After the six months of renovation, I began the interior decoration. Every piece of furniture was carefully selected. I especially loved the sofa I chose; it was incredibly comfortable."

Zhu Ning listened, but something felt off. It felt like she was watching a home improvement tutorial.

Huang stopped abruptly, choking back a sob. "But I never expected that only three months after moving in, strange things would start happening."

Zhu Ning focused. This had to be the crux of the matter.

Huang continued, "At first, they were tiny things. For instance, I would wake up the next morning, and my sofa would have changed its position."

She held up two photos to show the audience. "My sofa was originally facing the TV cabinet."

In the first photo, a red fabric sofa was indeed facing the TV cabinet—a standard, conventional layout that most people would choose.

"But the next morning, I woke up and the sofa was facing the wall."

Huang showed the second photo. As she described, the red sofa was turned away from the TV cabinet, facing the wall and pushed right up against it.

"At first, I thought there was a burglar or someone playing a prank, but there were no signs of anyone entering. I live alone and installed a security electronic lock. If someone had come in, I would have known."

"I told my friends, and they asked if I was under too much stress, hallucinating, or sleepwalking in the middle of the night."

"I thought that might be possible, so I stayed at a friend's place for three days before returning. The house looked normal, so I slept there again. The next morning—" Huang choked up again. "The next morning, the furniture had moved again. I—I can show you the video."

The video ended. To see the next one, Zhu Ning had to click on the subsequent entry. She opened it.

The footage was shaky, filled with a woman’s terrified gasps. In the video, all the furniture had changed positions. It wasn't just the red sofa facing the wall this time.

The double-door wardrobe, the refrigerator, the television, the dining table—every large piece of furniture in the house was now facing the wall.

The furniture… it looked like a row of people standing with their backs turned.

It was an old post, and someone had commented below:
"The OP is just doing this for attention. You moved the furniture yourself in the middle of the night and came here to farm views."
"You must be crazy for fame."
"Do you have a team? I’ve seen similar posts online before; this is outdated, lady."
"Shouldn't the OP call an expert?"
"Wait, that's not right. Some of that furniture is too heavy for me, a man, to move. How could she move it alone?"

There was another video below. Huang’s mental state had deteriorated further; her complexion was sallow, her hair was messier, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She seemed to have aged significantly.

"I’ve read everyone’s comments. First, I don't have a team, and I’m not doing this for attention. I’m genuinely experiencing something."

"I tried the suggestions from a few kind people, like installing surveillance, but the cameras caught nothing. If you want proof, I’ve included links below so you can analyze it yourselves."

"Someone suggested I tie myself up, so I tried that too. I handcuffed myself to the bed, but the next morning, the furniture was still turned away from me. It really isn't me. I’m not sleepwalking, and I don't have schizophrenia."

"I’ve tried 'masters'—exorcists, spirit mediums—I’ve called them all. They did all sorts of chaotic things, but none of it worked. I’ve tried every method I could."

"I can't take it anymore. You want to see? The videos are all there. I have no money; why would I pay a team to do this? I don't want fame; I’m truly suffering."

"I tried staying up all night; if I don't sleep, nothing happens. But the moment I close my eyes, the furniture is like that the next morning. I’m begging you to help me."

Zhu Ning clicked through all the evidence listed.

In the videos, Huang had installed surveillance before going to sleep. The footage recorded the whole night, showing the furniture remaining perfectly still.

However, the moment Huang woke up the next morning, as the camera captured her, there was a one-second glitch, and when the image returned, it showed Huang screaming.

The furniture had shifted.

If the videos hadn't been faked or edited, the question was no longer whether Huang had the strength to move the furniture. Unless she was a superhuman, she couldn't have rearranged the entire house in a single second.

Even a monster hunter couldn't do that in a second.

The comments section was much more serious this time. Some were genuinely trying to offer advice.

"Damn, that’s terrifying. OP, should you move out?"
"Why would it interfere with the surveillance? Is this a genuine paranormal event?"
"Is the surveillance faked?"
"The house is probably hard to sell now, too. What a shame, she spent her life savings on a haunted house."
"Actually, if it doesn't want to hurt you, can't you just live with it? Just treat it as if your furniture is quirky; it's still barely livable."
"It looks eerie, but it doesn't seem to want to hurt anyone."
"I agree. The house doesn't seem to have malicious intent, or else it would have killed the OP already."
"Sigh, if it were my house, I wouldn't want to leave either."

A month later, Huang released another video.

This time, she had completely broken down. She was crying throughout the recording.

"I don't think I can take it. I spent my life savings on this house. I tried to grit my teeth and live in it, but I can't. At first, I moved the furniture back every day, but the moment I closed my eyes, it moved again."

"Later, I thought, 'Fine, I’ll just live with it.' I’d change my habits, but I didn't know what to do sitting on a sofa facing a wall. After living like that for three days, I felt like a monster."

Standard interior design considers ergonomics; the placement and height of furniture should fit the owner's habits.

But if all the furniture in your home is placed in a way that defies human habit—all turned away from the owner—living inside would cause a mental breakdown.

Zhu Ning felt this was deeply bizarre. Isn't this psychological pollution? Forcing normal people to do abnormal things, or making abnormal things seem like the norm.

And then, repeating it over and over.

Only this time, it was forcing a living person to forcibly invert the habits she had built over thirty years, shattering her perception of reality as a human being.

The house wouldn't take her life, but living in it long-term would either drive her insane or turn her into a monster.

Half a month later, Huang posted again.

She had lost a lot of weight, likely from constant sleep deprivation and not eating. She looked like she weighed barely seventy pounds.

Through the videos, Zhu Ning watched a healthy woman being slowly consumed.

This video was very brief: "I really can't take it anymore. I’m moving out. Wish me luck. I’m giving up on this house. Thank you for everyone’s comfort and support."

The comments were filled with support and understanding.

There were a few skeptical voices, still questioning the authenticity of the post and offering to go over and exorcise the spirits for her.

Two weeks later, Huang posted a new video saying she had moved.

The video showed her new place—a small, one-bedroom apartment, but it looked quite cozy.

Huang said she was working on restoring her sleep and diet, feeling like she could finally breathe and return to a normal life. As long as she kept at it, she believed she could leave the shadows of the past behind.

The door to a new life was opening for her.

Many in the comments wished her well.

But there were harsher voices: "Oh, finally couldn't keep up the act, huh? Are you going to start selling products now?"
"I also feel something is off. Everyone stay alert; this might be a scammer."

Zhu Ning frowned. This probably wasn't over yet.

Sure enough, looking further down, only five days had passed before Huang posted another video.

This time, Huang was covered in injuries—it was unclear if they were self-inflicted or if someone had beaten her. She was now so thin she was nothing but skin and bones, looking like a monster.

"I moved. I thought it was over. I abandoned the house; I listed it with an agency, but I couldn't even sell it at half price. I thought, 'Just let me go. I don't want the money. I don't want to live like that anymore.'"

"I don't want anything. I just want to be normal."

"But I didn't expect," Huang’s gaze had turned furious. She stared intently at the camera, as if looking directly at the viewers behind the lens, "I didn't expect it to follow me."

"It followed me. It’s hunting me!"

Hunting? How could a house hunt someone?

Zhu Ning immediately clicked on the next video. In it, Huang cautiously pushed open a door, and the voice-activated lights in a dark hallway flickered on.

Across from her apartment, there was another unit marked "Room 101."

Zhu Ning had seen this door before. When Huang had introduced her renovation, she had specifically showcased it—a color most people wouldn't choose.

A forest-green door with a red wooden sign hanging on it that read: "Cozy Little Home."

Zhu Ning didn't react for a moment. Wasn't this Huang’s original house?

"This is my house," Huang’s voice was filled with terror. "I’m not mistaken. This is my house, the one I renovated with my own hands. It followed me."

Comments below:
"This is actually getting terrifying."
"Did the OP offend someone? Is someone messing with you?"
"Did the neighbor across the hall renovate their door to look like your old one?"
"That’s a huge investment. Who has that kind of time? OP, try knocking on the door."
"Who's inside?"
"OP, don't listen to them! Whatever you do, don't knock! Don't knock! Run! Run away!"

After that, Huang moved to a new apartment in a different neighborhood. The things that happened next were even more bizarre, and Huang recorded another video.