In his bedroom, Ethan Yang, a Chinese high school senior, lay on his bed, bored and aimlessly scrolling through his phone. Clicking on a thread, he came across a highly popular post that began with the chilling sentence, "I am a doctor at the third hospital of a certain province, and I have something terrifying to share with you all. A horrifying incident recently took place in my hospital, leaving me so frightened that I took leave and am currently resting at home." The replies seemed uninteresting to Ethan, so he opted to view only the original posts. Instantly, the thread transformed, displaying only the entries from the doctor, who used the username 'Night King.'

The story unfolded as follows: Last week, it was my turn to work the night shift. Around midnight, an ambulance brought in an elderly man. The ambulance staff claimed that he had fallen from the fifth floor. Since my colleague was occupied at the time, I was solely responsible for diagnosing the patient. To my absolute certainty, the old man showed no signs of life—he was already deceased. Moreover, judging by the condition of his body and the temperature of his chest, I could deduce that his death was not caused by the fall from the building that night.

Anyone with basic knowledge knows that when a person dies, their body temperature typically drops by about one degree per hour during the initial ten hours. After 24 hours, the body temperature aligns with the surrounding environment. However, in this case, the old man's body temperature was at least ten degrees lower than normal, even considering the ambient temperature of twenty-two degrees that night. Based on my judgment, the old man had been dead for over a day.

Immediately, netizens responded:

"The original poster's 'common sense' is truly chilling. I bow to you."

"Quickly check if the patient's shoes fell off. If not, there might be a chance to save him."

"Just thinking about it sends shivers down my spine. OP, please update us soon. I'm already hiding under my covers."

Ethan continued scrolling.

Night King's posts continued: Drawing from my extensive experience watching over 300 episodes of Detective Anime during junior high, I could instantly deduce that the old man did not accidentally fall to his death. He must have been murdered, and his body hidden in an ice cellar. I wasted no time in calling the police and reporting the incident.

However, today I want to talk about what happened afterward.

The post paused momentarily, with an update timestamp showing two hours later.

Apologies, someone just knocked on my door inquiring about the situation. It wasn't a police officer or a reporter—it seemed to be a person from the criminal police, or something like that. I hadn't even gone to work yet, but I heard from my colleagues that the body of the old man, delivered last night, had mysteriously disappeared from the morgue. The police launched a thorough investigation, suspecting that the killer had stolen it. There was chaos throughout the hospital as they scrutinized the surveillance footage, but in the end, neither the missing body nor the perpetrator was found. I'm on duty again tonight. However, the events of the day left me feeling unsettled. A patient in the hospital claimed to have seen the old man's body walking on its own, rather than being carried out by someone. The patient even accurately described the route the old man took, which appeared to lead from the direction of the morgue. It unnerved me to hear this, but fortunately, as an atheist, I didn't entirely believe what the patient said. Later, the head nurse informed me that Dr. Richard from the neurology department was planning to increase the patient's medication dosage, which put my mind at

ease. Not believing the patient was the right choice. But what I want to discuss isn't that—it's something that occurred during my night shift, around two in the morning.

Ethan found it somewhat amusing, but as he continued scrolling, something felt off. Night King's post took a darker turn: 'Something inexplicable happened that night. It's beyond your imagination. Around 2:15 in the morning, as I was playing games in the emergency room, I suddenly felt a chill, much like the feeling in the morgue, and I felt goosebumps all over. Can you guess what happened next? The old man, who had disappeared from the morgue the previous day, somehow appeared outside the emergency room. He wasn't dead—he was slowly making his way out of the hospital. My god, it couldn't be true! I had seen with my own eyes that the old man was dead, and he had been dead for over a day. How could he come back to life? Was it a prank? Playing dead? A medical miracle? My mind raced with possibilities, but perhaps due to my daily exposure to corpses, I wasn't as frightened as one might expect. The first thing I did was take out my phone and snap a picture, intending to post it on my social circle. I have the proof right here—a clear picture that hasn't been photoshopped." As Ethan scrolled further, a picture appeared before his eyes. The image was sharp, not at all blurry. Through a glass window in the emergency room, a frail old man walked by outside. He wore a black, antiquated robe, giving off an eerie vibe. His emaciated body bore brown, spotty skin. From the angle of the shot, one of the old man's eyes was visible—an ashen, hollow eye devoid of life, emanating a disturbing silence. The photo lacked blood or gore, yet the old man's presence sent chills down one's spine, inducing goosebumps. When combined with the doctor's earlier claim that the old man had once been a lifeless corpse, a sense of dread enveloped the reader. The longer one gazed at the photo, the more unsettling it became—like staring at a deceased person, or even a ghost.

"Terrifying! This photo scared me out of my wits. The longer I look at it, the more fear it instills. Where did the poster obtain this picture?" "Why does the old man's hands have so many spots? It triggers my trypophobia." "Those are postmortem spots, indicating that this old man is truly a corpse." A netizen even shared a picture of a Taoist symbol.

Despite the various comments from netizens, Night King continued posting: "The picture is genuine—I captured it myself. Later, this old man simply walked out of the hospital in that manner. I don't know where he went, but if anyone is in the same city as me, be cautious. Even though I am an atheist, there are certain things one must believe. Hold on a moment, someone's knocking at my door again. It's likely the police, seeking a statement from me. I'll be back shortly to share what happens next."

Yet, judging by the post timestamp, less than a minute had passed when Night King resumed posting in a frenzied manner: "Damn it! Damn it! It's that old man who escaped from the hospital! He's standing outside my door, knocking. I can see him clearly through the peephole. What do I do now? I feel like I've provoked something I shouldn't have." The comments poured in: "Is the poster finding pleasure in this?" "Holy crap, is this real? It's too eerie." "Call the police immediately! Hurry, find..."

Then, Night King wrote, "I called the police again, but what do I do now? That thing is still knocking on the door. It seems determined not to leave. Something's wrong—the lights in my living room suddenly went out. I'm too scared to enter the living room. I've locked the door to my room, turned on all the lights I can, but the old man continues to knock. Night King's posts became increasingly urgent, with each message arriving in under thirty seconds, filled with typos. It was evident that the doctor was terrified and panicking. Ethan also felt a chill creep over him, knowing the story might be fictitious, yet the image of the old man standing outside, knocking on his own door, unsettled him. If an elderly individual, presumed dead, could return to life and appear at someone's doorstep, anyone would be frightened.

But the post wasn't over—it continued. "No, this isn't good. I hear footsteps in my living room. Oh my god, I'm the only one home, and I suspect that the old man who was knocking earlier has entered. He must have made his way into the living room. What's happening? I didn't hear him open the door—how did he get inside?" The footsteps approached the outside of Night King's room and seemed to halt. The old man continued knocking on the door. Night King, now extremely anxious, recorded the knocking as evidence, leaving a phone number as a last resort. "If my phone becomes unreachable, I'm in trouble. Please, kind people, call the police at 138." 'Dong, dong dong, dong, dong dong.' An audio file appeared below, emitting a dull, suffocating knocking sound. The repetitive beats resonated in one's chest, almost robbing them of breath. The post ended abruptly. Ethan scrolled to the end, where he found the final line of text: 'The old man has entered.'"