There’s a corridor in the north campus of Yunjiang University with no sign. Students privately call it the Corridor of No Return.
After eleven at night, no one dares walk through it. It isn’t a school rule. Everyone knows the light at the end of the corridor turns on by itself. After it does, someone will be found dead in a corner of the corridor the next morning, eyes open, the corners of their mouth turned up as if they’ve seen something wonderful.
Thirteen people have died in twenty years. The police give the same explanation every time: cardiac arrest.
On his first day at the university, Zihao was assigned a dorm room beside the Corridor of No Return. He’d learned a few things from his master: how to find his way, how to listen for sounds, and how to turn around and leave when something feels wrong. He’d planned to spend his four years at university quietly, keeping out of everything else.
But on the very first night, he saw light seeping from beneath the door. It wasn’t the color of a fluorescent bulb.
Then his roommate died. The fourteenth victim.
Zihao began investigating. What was behind the door at the end of the corridor? Why had someone died every year for twenty years? Why did his childhood friend Chen Xiaohua say she could hear someone speaking deep inside the corridor? And what about that teacher surnamed Ji? He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was watching him from somewhere.
He didn’t necessarily want to get involved.
But the light beneath the door was growing brighter.
