Goodnight, Niuniu

“Be good, Niuniu. It's time for bed.”

Every nightfall, this gentle goodnight was part of the nightly routine Chen's wife shared with her three-year-old daughter, Niuniu. In everyone's eyes, Lin Wan, who had just moved in, was a kind, quiet, and even rather pitiful woman. She had just lost her own daughter.

So when Mrs. Chen hurried to her door late one night, begging Lin Wan to look after Niuniu for the night, the trust seemed only natural.

The lights went out. That was when the story truly began.

Beside Niuniu's sleeping bed, Lin Wan dropped her gentle mask and aimed the cold needle in her hand at the child.

“Goodnight, Niuniu,” she whispered. “When you wake up, it'll all be over.”

She thought she was the judge of fate, collecting a blood debt for her daughter, who had died a cruel death. Then her phone screen suddenly lit up, shattering the night's silence. A text from Mrs. Chen carried a chilling message:

“Goodnight, Lin Wan.”

“Or should I call you Zhang Ya?”

“Why do you think we left Niuniu with you?”

A nightly blessing repeated over and over, an innocent name, a carefully planned act of trust. When goodnight becomes the prelude to a farewell, who is tonight's true prey?

Goodnight, Niuniu. May you still sleep peacefully tonight.