Coming as a group to visit a haunted house early in the morning was indeed not a good choice—at least not for Shu Yuxin and Wei Zhanpeng.

Shu Yuxin recovered fairly quickly. After drinking a bottle of beverage and resting somewhere for a while, she gradually became able to process what was happening around her again. She was still a bit dazed, though, and would space out every now and then.

Wei Zhanpeng was a bit better than her in that regard. After a short while, that guy was already lively and energetic again.

As for how long it would take Shu Yuxin to fully return to normal, not only did Jiang Zixuan not know—Shu Yuxin herself didn’t know either.

As far as she could remember, this was the first time she had been scared to this extent.

Shu Yuxin had a flaw: her imagination was far too vivid. This had been mentioned before. One concrete manifestation of it was that after being frightened, she would uncontrollably recall the process of being scared, then twist and exaggerate it through her imagination—making it surreal, monstrous, and terrifying—only to scare herself all over again.

It was a very strange flaw, but it undeniably existed.

Just like before, whenever she had been scared by horror videos or images she happened to see, she would be afraid to sleep alone at night, or too scared to get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. The root cause was entirely self-inflicted, but the effect was extremely effective.

This situation could tentatively be called “post-scare aftereffects.” The intensity and duration of these aftereffects were usually closely related to how badly she had been frightened and the environment she stayed in afterward: the greater the scare, the stronger the reaction, and the longer it took to fully recover. As for environmental factors, there weren’t enough examples to discuss them for now.

This time, however, it was probably the biggest scare she had experienced since she could remember—and it had been a series of scares in a short time. In any case, this was the most intense reaction she had ever had. The way she spaced out so easily was usually a sign that she had started imagining things again—in other words, a manifestation of her fear. In the past, this kind of situation only happened late at night when she was alone, but this time it struck her in broad daylight, right in an amusement park.

Jiang Zixuan didn’t really understand her current condition, but he could tell that she was in a very bad state. Just looking at her now, she seemed like the kind of kid who could be easily lured away by a creepy uncle with a single lollipop (?). This made him even more uneasy about his best friend, and after thinking it over for a while, he decided to stay by her side and keep her company.

Yan Zhikai and the others were also worried about Shu Yuxin, but it wasn’t realistic for everyone to stay behind with her and do nothing else. After some discussion, they left behind a line of “If anything comes up, talk about it in the group chat,” and then each went off to do their own thing.

Still, after such an incident, it was hard for anyone to fully enjoy themselves anymore. The day’s outing ended close to five in the afternoon, and they didn’t even wait for the night session to begin. At that time, there were still many people in the amusement park, and the long lines at the entrance showed no signs of shrinking, forming a stark contrast with the exit.

There wasn’t much enthusiasm left on anyone’s face. Shu Yuxin was still the same as before, holding a bottle of Assam milk tea and silently following behind Jiang Zixuan. Perhaps the only ones who had a relatively good time that day were Lao Mei and Fu Bai, who hadn’t gone into the haunted house.

“Why aren’t those two here yet? Did they die inside?” Yan Zhikai glanced impatiently at his phone, then looked toward the park exit.

Peng Xiaoxiao walked beside Shu Yuxin and joked, “Maybe they didn’t see the message and are still playing.”

“They replied five minutes ago saying they were on the way,” Lao Guan chimed in, then put his phone away.

Wei Zhanpeng raised an eyebrow. “Damn, you actually put your phone away?”

Lao Guan froze for a second before reacting. “Screw you! My phone’s only got twenty percent battery left!”

“So did you tell them to meet at the south exit or not?” Yan Zhikai asked.

“Of course I did. Do you think I’m that stupid?” Lao Guan nodded.

Yan Zhikai paused, frowned, and said, “Hard to say.”

“…Screw you.”

As his words fell, two familiar figures finally appeared inside the south exit gates. Fu Bai was struggling to support Lao Mei as they slowly walked out. Seeing the group waiting outside, Fu Bai waved at them like he had found a savior. “Hey! Come help out! I can’t hold him up anymore!”

Seeing this, Yan Zhikai was the first to walk over. “What happened? Going into labor?”

“…He puked after riding the roller coaster,” Fu Bai said with a complicated expression. “Almost puked all over me.”

Lao Mei’s expression was grave. “Fu-dog… if I say I wasn’t feeling well today, would you believe me?”

Fu Bai sighed. “Come on, Lao Mei, just drop it. If you can’t handle it, you can’t handle it. I don’t even want to compete with you anymore—if I hadn’t dodged in time, you’d’ve puked all over me.”

Lao Mei’s expression grew even more solemn.

Alright then—his experience today hadn’t been very good either.

“Alright, alright. Can you still walk? Do we need to call 120?” Yan Zhikai glanced at Lao Mei.

Lao Mei took a deep breath, then pushed Fu Bai away. “I’m not freaking paralyzed.”

“Good enough.” Yan Zhikai turned to the others and asked, “So, are we going to eat now?”

“Sure, sure. We barely ate at noon—I’m starving,” Peng Xiaoxiao said first, then gently patted Shu Yuxin. “Yuxin, are you hungry?”

“Mm…”

Peng Xiaoxiao paused.

So was that “mm” an answer or not?

“Let’s go eat. She definitely hasn’t forgotten how to eat,” Jiang Zixuan answered for Shu Yuxin directly.

The others quickly voiced their agreement as well. Yan Zhikai scanned the group, nodded, and walked off ahead. “Let’s go—I’ll take you guys to an all-you-can-eat place.”

“Holy crap, you’re treating us to buffet? You’re really loaded, Kai,” Lao Mei immediately perked up and laughed.

Yan Zhikai snorted. “You think those meals at the hotel before were free or something?”

Lao Mei chuckled twice and said nothing more.

Dinner at the buffet had a pretty good atmosphere and more or less made up for some of the earlier disappointment.

To everyone’s surprise, Shu Yuxin ate quite a lot, and she even gradually started talking during the meal. She looked like she was almost fully recovered, which was indeed good news. Peng Xiaoxiao was especially happy about this and pulled Shu Yuxin into a long conversation—half of it was apologizing for dragging her into the haunted house, and the other half was about funny things she experienced at the amusement park that day.

Shu Yuxin just went “hahahaha” the whole time—whether it was genuine laughter or fake laughter, only she herself knew.

The entertainment afterward was simple. Everyone wandered around for a bit, and once it got dark, they gradually returned to the hotel.

Jiang Zixuan took Shu Yuxin to an arcade to play some games, as a way to change her mood. On the way back, she seemed to be in quite a good mood, even taking the time to browse an accessory store they passed—though she didn’t buy anything.

After leaving the store, Jiang Zixuan lagged a step behind Shu Yuxin. Watching her hop along like a child as she walked, he couldn’t help curling his lips into a smile. “So you’re completely better now?”

“Huh? When was I ever broken?” Shu Yuxin glanced back at him.

Jiang Zixuan smiled and chose not to dwell on the events of the morning. “Want to buy some late-night snacks to take back?”

“Late-night snacks? Wow, you ate so much earlier and you’re still not full?”

“…I’m worried you’ll get hungry.”

“Not hungry. I’m stuffed.”

Jiang Zixuan sighed softly. “Alright then. Shall we head back?”

“Sure. It’s not like there’s anything else to do,” Shu Yuxin said, tilting her head back.

On the way back to the hotel, they ran into Peng Xiaoxiao and Wei Zhanpeng. Those two had also just returned—and in that short time, they had even managed to watch a movie, with Wei Zhanpeng treating her. The movie didn’t have a great rating; only the special effects were passable. There weren’t many people in the theater, so it felt almost like a private screening.

Peng Xiaoxiao was now enthusiastically discussing all the dumb plot points of the movie with them.

The others had already returned to the hotel earlier. When the four of them entered Yan Zhikai’s room, they saw a group of people playing on a computer.

Wei Zhanpeng’s computer.

“Holy crap, what the hell are you guys doing?!” Wei Zhanpeng rushed over in a single stride, snatched his laptop from their hands, and looked fiercely protective. “What the hell are you doing?! Huh?!”

The others exchanged looks. Lao Mei shrugged helplessly. “I told you from the start to try Peng Xiaoxiao’s name, but you wouldn’t listen. Now it’s too late, right?”

“I think it should be her birthday instead—by the way, when is Peng Xiaoxiao’s birthday?” Fu Bai chimed in.

Wei Zhanpeng glanced at the boot password screen and instantly understood what they were talking about. “Damn it!! There’s nothing on my computer!! What the hell are you guys trying to do?!”

“Hehe, who knows if there’s really nothing on it? Maybe you secretly recovered stuff last night,” Lao Mei said with a very sleazy grin.

Wei Zhanpeng snapped the laptop shut. “Damn it, I never should’ve brought this thing.”

“What were you guys saying about me just now?” Peng Xiaoxiao walked over at this point. She had heard her name but didn’t know what was going on.

Lao Mei chuckled and immediately changed the subject. “Nothing. Hey, Lao Wei, since we’re bored anyway, how about a game of cards?”

Wei Zhanpeng shuddered. “Nope. Screw that. My hands hurt so bad last night I couldn’t even sleep.”

“Hehehe, right? Then today we’ll let you win it back.”

“I said no. Go find Lao Guan.”

Lao Guan, holding his phone, adjusted his glasses. “Cards? Is that more fun than a phone?”

“You just go play with your paper waifus,” Yan Zhikai shot him a look of disdain, then clapped his hands. “Alright, alright—last night. Let’s play something fun.”

“What kind of thing?” Lao Mei asked instinctively.

Yan Zhikai’s gaze first landed on Jiang Zixuan and Shu Yuxin, then shifted to Peng Xiaoxiao, and finally to Wei Zhanpeng. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Tell me—in a situation like this, what kind of game do you think those ridiculously happy couples usually play?”

“I have no freaking idea,” Lao Mei said with a grin.

“Just go play your poker cards already, I’m begging you, bar-raising bro,” Yan Zhikai shot him a glare.

The grin on Lao Mei’s face grew even more annoying.

Yan Zhikai ignored him. He cleared his throat, adjusted his mood, then enthusiastically raised his hand and announced, “In such a perfect moment like this, of course we’re going to play a thrilling and exciting game—Truth or Dare!”