Director of a Suspense Film

Ch15 – Midnight Jumpscare

Forests in summer were the playgrounds of mosquitoes. 

Yet even when the valley hadn’t rained for half a month and the temperature only continued to climb while the humidity went down, insects only kept appearing. They were constantly chirping, echoing against the walls. There was so much noise it was annoying. 

“How is it?” 

The sky was stained in spots of night as a group of farmers scrambled through the village. 

If the actors were here, they’d realise that the farmers were the same few that had led them to the village at the start. 

They all circled around the well in the middle of the village, torches raised in their hands. 

The crackling fire lit up everything around and inside the well. The well that was too deep to be seen had been brightened up enough for the waterline to be shone. 

“It’s the same as the one that was written in the village records. It must be a few centuries old.” 

Before this, the well had been filled with mud, but everyone from the village worked together the past few days and dug it all out to reveal a staircase that workers from centuries ago had carved. 

Starting from about half a year ago, the villagers would occasionally get accessories when getting water. It started with silver accessories, then there was jade. No one really noticed at the start, they would just wash it and give it to their wives back at home. 

But as the amount of things they fished up increased, they started getting suspicious so they came together and cleaned the well up. Then, they brought in Lao Liu— the only guy that knew how to read— to read the carvings and uncovered the truth. (t/n: lao liu = old 6) 

This was also why they had gotten so nervous when that black haired dude was getting closer to the well. After all, it’d be bad if the biggest secret of the village was uncovered. 

“Lao San, take some men and take the hanging coffins at the cliff down.” The village chief ordered. “Bring them to the mourning halls. If we don’t get rid of those things, the door below won’t open either.” 

“You got it, boss.” 

“Oh right.” Lao San added. “Those outsiders here today asked me about those Hanged Coffins. Do you think they’ll—” 

“Lao Si.” The chief ordered, “Leave a few men where those teachers are staying and watch them carefully.” 

Out of all the days they could’ve chosen to come, they chose today. 

Coincidentally, the village head had passed just a few days ago. He hadn’t had the time to tell them a lot of information. If their Goddess hadn’t confirmed that this was something that had been arranged, they would still be in the dark. 

Thinking about that, he added, “Make sure to watch them carefully. See if they’re actually here to teach, or to…” 

A dark shadow flitted past his eyes and he made a gesture over his neck. 

The other farmers instantly understood. 

In a place as isolated as this, rather than calling them farmers, they were more like hunters. While they haven’t seen human blood before, they’ve seen a lot of animal blood. 

“It doesn’t matter what happened in the village before. Right now, the only thing that matters is how we’re going to get rich.” 

“The first to find out, Lao Liu, let it slip, but that’s something he’ll have to deal with himself. If someone finds out about this, we’ll be the ones to suffer. But if this works, not only will we get out of this mountain, we’ll be set for the rest of our life.” 

When the farmers heard that, all their breathing quickened. 

“Saying that, the rest of you make sure to guard the well properly. Lao Er, let’s check out what’s inside!” (t/n: lao er: old 2) 

After he said that, the leader raised the torch up and climbed into the well. 

The others went off to do what they were supposed to do, filtering away under the night sky. 

Because this was still Act 1, the actors were still friendly with each other. (t/n: I may or may not hv tled this as first scene in the past oopsie) 

Since there were four new actors here, it was clear that the difficulty of this movie wouldn’t be too high. After all, while the system wouldn’t tell them the difficulty of the movie, it was easy to tell from the ranks of all the actors. 

The only thing to notice is that this recording had dragged in a mysterious director, so the more experienced actors all kept that in mind. 

The actor community already had multiple posts open for discussion. In other words, if they could live and get home from this, they would have information and power over the entire community. 

Compared to the experienced actors, the actors that had just entered the system and hadn’t encountered any dangers and only needed to act out some simple personas were significantly more relaxed. 

Within them, Village Professor Wang was the most relaxed. 

He was a streamer a long time ago too. But because he wasn’t too that good of a streamer, he never did have that many fans. Seeing the newbies that had debuted at the same time as him shot to popularity, a sinister idea sprouted in his head— he was going to expose his colleague’s streaming schemes. 

He had thought the netizens would rip him apart till only his bones were left for doing this, but unexpectedly, he had suddenly gained traction from these debunking. A bunch of netizens with nothing to do would nitpick in his streams and on his Weibo, eventually forming a group used to debunk fakers. 

Tasting the sweet sweet taste of success, Professor Wang began making debunking videos as his job. 

After all, he used to be a streamer before this, so of course he knew a little more about the industry than the netizens. So he managed to make some relatively high quality and funny debunking videos at the start. 

But that didn’t last. 

After debunking all the typical ways streamers faked their streams, netizens started getting bored and his popularity decreased. Professor Wang could only grit his teeth and walk on the road of false accusations. 

Since they were all false, he’d get screwed over if he went for some big streamer, so he had his eyes locked on a small streamer with no traction or fans. A small streamer could only take blow after blow of accusations anyways. There was nothing they could do. 

Zong Qi was one of those unlucky bastards. 

Professor Wang had found him in his recommended section. 

Not a lot of people streamed in the supernatural category, but it was one of the categories that Professor Wang loved to accuse. 

Firstly, most supernatural streamers had a script they would go off of from the start, or they wouldn’t be able to make the stream exciting enough for their viewers to have their hearts in their mouths. 

Not only that, no matter what he accused them of, his viewers would support him without question. After all, ghosts didn’t exist— that was an absolute fact. So no matter how he accused them, he’d be the one winning. 

And thus, Professor Wang screwed over almost everyone in the supernatural category. 

Someone like Zong Qi, who only had a hundred or so fans, and only got noticed because Professor Wang had stumbled upon his stream informing everyone that he was, indeed, still alive, wasn’t worth it to him. It’d help Zong Qi more if he had paid him any attention, considering all the ‘fans’ he’d gain, so he just screwed him over and forgot all about it afterward. 

Except, this streamer was actually pretty hard headed. Not only had he posted a statement on Weibo, he had also started streaming the next day. 

All the small streamers Professor Wang had accused before either changed professions or started crying and screaming that they weren’t faking. This was his first time seeing someone like this. 

After watching his stream about the haunted apartment, he scoffed. 

Although that apartment was a little terrifying, as a shallow materialist, he had chalked it off to him wanting to be famous so bad he’d gone crazy. 

“Sigh, all youngsters want to do now is earn money through streaming. Thank God there’s someone like me around, or everyone would get led by their noses.” 

He had already got a plan in mind. When the small streamer started his stream again, he’d teach this ignorant youngster a good lesson. However, before he could do that, he’d somehow got tied to some Actor System and got dragged into filming a horror show. 

Because he’d seen the horrifying death he’d experience if he didn’t show up, he’d been scared witless. Professor Wang had packed his luggage and ran over at midnight, trembling in his boots the entire way, half dead. 

“Turns out it was just some simple acting. It isn’t even that hard! Those experienced actors sure know how to exaggerate.” 

The mud house wasn’t big, nor was the bed. Godsend himself took up a large half of it. Not to mention how atrocious the man’s sleeping position was. Both his hands and legs were spread apart like a fried egg— no matter which way he was turned, he’d still take up just as much space. 

Having been kicked ruthlessly off the bed, Professor Wang was pissed, but when he remembered that Godsend was acting as the old professor. If he started shouting at him, he’d be disrespecting the elderly, then he’d get his Character Points deducted. So he had no choice but to swallow his complaints and dignity and cover Godsend with a blanket. 

What was most annoying was how hot the house was. There was either the sound of insects or the sound of mice scrambling around. He didn’t even know how Godsend managed to sleep in a place like this. 

Annoyed, he drifted into sleep. But instead of a fitful sleep, he had instead started getting nightmares, jerking up with cold sweat dripping down his back. After waking up, he felt like peeing, so he got out of bed. 

Toilets in villages were always outside, the house they were assigned with was no different. The only toilet around was a small latrine they had made last minute. 

Professor Wang pushed open the door. The sounds of insects outside pierced his ears, louder and more annoying than ever. 

No moon could be seen tonight, nor the stars. The loud howling wind raged on the cliff. Leaves danced with the cries of the wind. 

He didn’t know why, but he was reminded of the Hanged Coffins he had seen on the way to the village. Especially that fresh red on the coffins. 

In a lightless night like this, that blinding red felt as if it had been imprinted in his vision. 

“Is there nothing to light a fire in this godforsaken village? Whatever, I’ll just pee under a tree. 

He mustered all his courage and stepped forward cautiously. His ankles were itching like crazy and he only noticed the swollen red bump on it after pulling his pants up— a flea bite. 

“Just my luck.” Professor Wang ‘tsked, turning around. 

Yet just as he turned back, he found that the sight behind him had changed. The building that had been there disappeared, turning into a dark road with a barely visible light source at the end of it. 

“What!? What’s going on?” He rubbed his eyes, unable to believe it. 

He had walked on the path that led to the middle of the village to pee, how did it turn into another path after turning back? Has he turned stupid from sleep? 

I must be overthinking. Professor Wang shook his head and turned around again. 

The road in front of him was still the same dark path. 

This time, he’d finally realised that something was wrong. A cold chill ran up his spine. 

“W-W-What’s going on?” Professor Wang stuttered, “W-Where’s the house?” 

He turned around violently, trying to find it. He could see that the house was just behind him, but the second he took a step forward, it’d turn into that dark road with nothing but a flicker at the end of it. 

The dark shadow of fear blanketed the ground. Even the annoying chirps of insects had quietened down at one point. 

It was quiet— too quiet. In the dark forest, it was almost dead silent. 

Professor Wang glanced around him one last time before making a violent run for it. 

He didn’t even care if he was running towards the house or the path anymore. It didn’t matter which direction he was running, he couldn’t just stand there and wait for his death. 

He had to get away. Run! 

After running like crazy for god knows how long, Professor Wang finally stopped, panting as he examined his surroundings. 

Something strange happened again. The scene in front of him once again changed into the path that he had seen before. 

The trees around swayed, their branches reaching out like ghosts, letting a faint shashashasha, mocking his arrogance. 

Ghost Pounding the Wall. 

No matter where he ran, he’d still end up in the same spot. 

This wasn’t an unfamiliar thing to someone who had watched a horror movie before. 

Professor Wang trembled, his pupils shrunk. Cold sweat coated his every limb. This was the status of someone in extreme fear. 

In that instant, he seemed to recall the nightmare he had before this. He had seen a small fabric of red in the shadows cast by the trees, empty voids for eyes staring at him, black hair floating in the air. 

“AHHHHHH SAVE ME—” 

He wailed and cried, screaming at the top of his lungs for help, but all he heard was a dull echo from the bottom of the cliff, a dozen of his voices layered with each other, distorting into a strange voice. 

“Save me! Someone please save me! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!!” 

Helpless, he could only continue running towards the only direction with a light source.

That was at the end of the path— where a small flicker of light existed. 

It was also that small light that made everything else around him so much scarier. 

Professor Wang was scared witless, running as he cried. He had fallen down and eaten mud multiple times as he ran, but no matter how many times he scraped his knees, he only got up and continued running. 

He kept his eyes on that flame unblinkingly. Until it got bigger and bigger, bigger and bigger. 

At the same time, what Professor Wang had thought was a silhouette of his fellow actors was actually a coffin in the mourning halls. 

A horrible sound came from inside the coffin, as if there was someone frantically scratching at the inside of it, like scraping across sandpaper. 

On the coffin were dozens of marks of it struggling to get opened from inside while being tied with a chain. There were even talismans glued onto it, yet the paper and ink were humid and wet, dripping with something wet and spilling onto the ground. 

The light source he had seen was actually the eternal flame[1] on the coffin. 

As the wind howled, thunder clapped and raindrops started spilling from the sky. 

The white cloth around the mourning hall danced in the night sky. 

The flame died. 

He jerked up from his bed. 

[1] An eternal flame is a flame, lamp or torch that burns for an indefinite time.