"Hello everyone, welcome to my horror livestream!"

My name is Wen Yuxin, a fresh-faced rookie streamer about to embark on my very first horror broadcast tonight.

Let’s be honest—most girls in this industry are stunningly beautiful with killer figures. As for me? Well, I’ve got a devilish body, but my face… let’s just say it’s straight out of a nightmare.

Ever since I was born, I’ve been called a jinx. My face has been covered in grotesque tumors from day one. The midwife who delivered me trembled in fear, declaring me a monster, an omen of misfortune.

My father stood stone-faced at the door, insisting I be abandoned in the mountains to die. It was my mother who fought tooth and nail to keep me, though it cost her their marriage.

And so, I grew up under the weight of everyone’s disgust, barely scraping by.

Tonight marks my debut livestream. Since showing my face isn’t an option, I’ve taken a gamble on horror streaming—where the host’s face stays hidden.

"Horror streaming" is really just a gimmick. You pick a place rumored to be haunted, hire a few assistants, rig up some props, and create a spooky atmosphere to trick the audience.

The streamer puts on a show to make money, the viewers get a cheap thrill to kill time—everyone wins.

But I’m broke. I can’t afford assistants, so I’m going solo to tonight’s location—an abandoned clinic.

The clinic sits in the old district, isolated and overgrown with weeds. The moment I step onto the grounds, an eerie chill crawls up my spine, as if unseen eyes are watching me from inside the building.

I jerk my head up—but all I see are dark, hollow windows. Nothing there.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm as I pulled out my phone and opened Yunze TV—the most popular live-streaming platform. I titled my stream with a sensational name: "Midnight Haunted Clinic: Witness Real Ghosts with Me!"

The provocative title instantly drew in a crowd of viewers.

Soon, comments began flooding the screen:

[New streamer? Looks like an amateur picking such a boring spot.]

[Another wannabe ghost hunter. How original.]

[Probably just cheap jump scares. Seen a dozen streams like this—never an actual ghost.]

[Next. Boring.]

I was doing this for money. No audience meant tonight’s effort would be wasted.

Gritting my teeth against my fear, I stumbled through my first live broadcast.

Grabbing my flashlight, I illuminated the clinic’s weathered sign and angled the camera toward it. "Hey everyone, I’m your host tonight," I began, my voice shaky but determined. "Our destination? This infamous haunted clinic."

"Years ago, this was a private practice. One day, a young woman came in for an abortion. Dr. Wang performed the procedure himself, but something went wrong—she bled out right on the operating table."

As I spoke, I pushed open the creaking iron door. The screech of rusted hinges pierced the dead silence of midnight, sending a chill down my spine. I froze, suddenly unwilling to step further.

Just then, a gift animation flashed across the stream—a tiny silver bell.

[Here’s a bell for courage, streamer! You got this!]

My first donation of the night. Only five yuan, but it felt like a fortune—and the boost I desperately needed.

Bolstered by the encouragement from the gifts, I mustered my courage, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

"This medical malpractice incident cost Dr. Wang his medical license. Overwhelmed by despair, he hanged himself right here in this clinic. Ever since, the place has been haunted—locals often hear a woman wailing in the dead of night."

"And then there was this homeless man who wandered in, unaware of the rumors. They say Dr. Wang's vengeful spirit pinned him down on the operating table and killed him. After that, no one dared to come near this clinic again!"

As I relayed the story, I found myself already standing in the clinic's main hall.

The moment I entered, an eerie sensation prickled my skin.

Outside, the sweltering heat must have been over 30 degrees Celsius, yet the clinic was unnaturally cold, steeped in a chilling, oppressive atmosphere.

The live chat exploded with comments again.

[Your voice is so soothing—definitely belongs to a beauty!]

[Great storytelling! If you actually show us a ghost later, I’ll gift you a jade pendant!]

Seeing another potential gift on the horizon, my motivation surged, and my steps grew noticeably lighter as I ventured further inside.

Sweeping my flashlight across the room, I took in the modest reception area.

The floor was littered with debris. On the southeast wall hung a shattered mirror, its fragments reflecting my distorted silhouette like dismembered body parts—grotesque enough to nearly wrench a scream from my throat.

I drew a deep breath, steadied myself, and quickly skirted past it.

But just then, the live chat erupted into chaos.

["I think I just saw the streamer wearing a mask and hat!"]

["Is she alone? I swear I saw a shadowy figure following her!"]

["Yeah, like a three or four-year-old kid, right by her feet."]

["Isn't it obvious? That's gotta be her assistant!"]

Reading these comments sent a chill down my spine, cold sweat beading on my back.

Tonight, I came here alone—no assistant in sight.

And what's this about a child?

Instinctively, I glanced down at my feet. Nothing there...

Maybe the viewers were mistaken. It's easy to see things in the dark.

I patted my chest, trying to reassure myself that everything was fine.

The unexpected scare had done its job—the eerie atmosphere was now in full swing, and the live stream's viewership had surged to nearly 500 people.

Even the number of gifts pouring in had noticeably increased.

Bolstered by the response, I gathered my courage and pressed forward. "Let's check out the restroom first," I narrated as I walked. "They say the homeless man who wandered in here encountered Dr. Wang's ghost in there."

The restroom was tucked away in the far west corner of the clinic. To get there, I had to pass through the IV therapy room.

The IV room was in complete disarray—dust coated the floor, shattered glass littered the ground, and the faint metallic tang of blood lingered in the air.

I turned my head and saw a dried pool of blood staining the messy, haphazardly placed wire bed.

This was the first time I'd ever seen so much blood. Summoning my courage, I cautiously stepped forward and lightly touched it with my fingertip. Upon closer inspection, I gasped, "Blood... it really is blood..."

[Stop trying to scare us. Clearly, the streamer set this up beforehand.]

[What's so scary about blood? Don't girls see it every month?]

Easy for them to say, sitting comfortably behind their screens! Here I was, terrified out of my wits, and they had the nerve to crack jokes!

If I had faked this blood myself, I wouldn’t be this scared!

Honestly, I wanted to bolt right then and there. This creepy place—I couldn’t stand another minute of it.

Just then, my phone pinged. I glanced at the screen—someone had tipped me a red rose.

[For all the effort you put into props, here’s a rose for you.]

It was like an invisible shot of calm. For money, I could push through anything!

Gritting my teeth, I fought back my fear and continued narrating, "According to reports, Dr. Wang severed the homeless man’s Achilles tendon in the bathroom before dragging him onto this wire bed, where he was brutally dissected and bled to death."

But... why did this blood still look fresh?

Was someone else here?

As my mind raced with wild thoughts, a sudden, eerie creak echoed through the empty, silent clinic—the bathroom door slowly swung open on its own...

My grip tightened around the flashlight as I shakily aimed its beam at the door, my legs trembling uncontrollably.

["Was it a ghost that opened the door? So creepy!"]

["Are you dumb? It's obviously the host's accomplice trying to scare us!"]

["Just wait, a hand might pop out and grab the host's ankle any second now."]

As the comments floated across the screen, another viewer tipped two red roses.

Bolstered by the monetary encouragement, I took a deep breath and mustered the courage to approach the restroom stall that had just swung open on its own.

The bathroom was vast, its walls adorned with a shattered mirror smeared with chaotic bloody handprints. My hands trembled as I fumbled near the doorway, hoping to find something—anything—to arm myself with. Instead, my fingers brushed against a rusted scalpel.

Though most of it had corroded, the blade still gleamed cold and razor-sharp.

["That prop looks insanely real! Tipping now!"]

A coffee cup icon flashed on my phone screen—a sixty-yuan tip.

The more money rolled in, the more my fear grew.

This grimy restroom seemed to pulse with something unnatural...

I was about to retreat when suddenly, a gurgling sound bubbled up from the sink.

Before I could react, a shadow flickered across the cracked mirror in front of me—