Good and Evil Chapter 93: A Strange Experience and Xu Lang’s Speculation

“Wow, the scent of jasmine is so fragrant.”

Upon seeing this message, Tian Yang immediately thought of Duan Yiling, because these were the exact words he had once said to her. Duan Yiling loved jasmine-scented perfume, and after they began living together, all the products she used—whether perfume or skincare—were jasmine-flavored.

Recalling this, Tian Yang was no longer confused but felt an inexplicable terror. Anyone receiving a message from someone deceased would feel strange, puzzled, and fearful. What was more unsettling was that the messages came from the deceased’s QQ account. Though the messages were disjointed, they were all phrases Tian Yang himself had sent to her before her death.

If a person who had passed away six months ago suddenly sent messages using her QQ account, one might only find it odd. But what happened next was truly terrifying.

Since Duan Yiling’s death six months ago, her QQ account inexplicably sent messages to Tian Yang. At first, he was shocked and confused, but gradually he got used to it. However, four months ago, when Tian Yang opened his QQ space, he accidentally discovered something chilling.

Tian Yang was a homebody. Besides commuting to work, he enjoyed surfing the internet from home and often took selfies. After each selfie, he would upload the photos to his QQ space. There was nothing odd about that, except that it was unusual for a young man to be so fond of selfies, a habit more common among girls. Of course, in this vast world, there are exceptions; some men dislike photos, like Xu Lang, who never took selfies or liked being photographed, while others were more narcissistic like Tian Yang.

The eerie part was what Tian Yang found in those uploaded selfies.

One day, while browsing his photo album, he noticed strange markings on the photos. It wasn’t just that someone circled his face; the marks appeared in bizarre places. For example, in one photo where Tian Yang sat by the window taking a selfie, a square was drawn behind him. In another photo taken in front of the bathroom mirror, a square appeared near him.

At first, Tian Yang didn’t understand the meaning of these marks. But after scrutinizing the photos repeatedly, it dawned on him—the marked spots corresponded precisely to where Duan Yiling would have stood if she were still alive. In the window photo, if Duan Yiling were alive, she would have been standing behind him. In the mirror selfie, she should have been beside him.

This realization drenched Tian Yang in cold sweat. He hurriedly opened QQ and messaged Duan Yiling’s account: “Who are you really? What do you want? Why are you doing this?”

Yet, there was no reply. Duan Yiling’s QQ remained silent as the grave. After waiting a while, Tian Yang remembered the photos and reopened his QQ space. This time, he was startled again.

It seemed the other party knew he had seen the marked photos because all the marked photos had been deleted. This terrified Tian Yang, and he began to doubt whether he had mistaken the markings earlier.

Days passed, and Tian Yang lived with growing fear and confusion. Ever since the photos had been tampered with, he kept a close eye on his QQ space. But after the marked photos were discovered, no further alterations appeared.

Two weeks later, some of Tian Yang’s QQ friends messaged him, asking about the strange photos in his space. Initially, Tian Yang was confused, but after they explained, he immediately thought of the late Duan Yiling.

He shared his recent experiences with his friends, but none believed him. Some even called him crazy. Afterwards, Tian Yang found he could no longer see their spaces, and when he tried to contact them, he realized they had blacklisted him. This left him dumbfounded and furious—not only at their disbelief but also at whoever was using Duan Yiling’s QQ and marking his photos. He wanted to confront them, so he messaged Duan Yiling’s QQ, pleading for them to stop. Still, there was no response.

Being disbelieved and blacklisted upset Tian Yang deeply, but without proof, no one would trust him. Moreover, every time he saw the marked photos, they were soon deleted. To convince others, he had to gather evidence, so he began watching his QQ album more carefully.

Eventually, Tian Yang managed to save three marked photos: one taken on his way home at sunset, one sitting on the sofa, and one in front of a mirror. Each photo contained a red box, either behind or beside him. He sent these photos to Jin Enpei.

Jin Enpei showed them to Xu Lang, who confirmed the red boxes were genuine. This made Xu Lang start believing Tian Yang’s story wasn’t a joke.

“Could it be someone playing a prank?” Xu Lang asked.

Jin Enpei shook her head. “I asked Tian Yang the same question.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he suspected a prank too, but after asking mutual friends of him and Duan Yiling, no one admitted to it.”

Hearing this, Xu Lang fell into deep thought.

After Tian Yang saved the marked photos, no further tampering occurred. It seemed the other party knew the evidence was saved. Tian Yang suspected a prankster was toying with him, but friends he questioned all denied involvement.

If not someone he knew, could it be a hacker or a tech-savvy person?

But on reflection, Tian Yang felt this unlikely. Who would be so bored as to play such a cruel joke? And hackers would have no reason to do so.

Thus, after the photo-marking ceased, Tian Yang’s life seemed to return to normal. Yet, half a month later, his QQ once again received messages from Duan Yiling’s account.

“Where is my black sweater? Look, such a beautiful piece of clothing.”

These words were from an earlier time when Duan Yiling returned home and Tian Yang asked where his black sweater was. The second sentence referred to a red dress Tian Yang had seen online shortly before Duan Yiling’s death. He had sent her the photo to see if she liked it, planning to buy it for her if she did. She loved it, and on the day of her fatal accident, she wore that very dress.

Reading these messages, Tian Yang’s emotional defenses crumbled. He recalled the horrific details of her death and drank heavily that night, becoming utterly drunk. In his drunken state, he sent many emotional messages to Duan Yiling’s QQ, expressing his deep longing, but received no reply.

The next day, hungover and looking at the chat history, Tian Yang resolved to change Duan Yiling’s QQ password to seal away these memories. He did so, and for a while, her QQ avatar turned gray and remained still, never lighting up again.

But two months ago, despite the password change, Duan Yiling’s QQ sent him messages once more:

“Hi, hello.”

“Speeding wheels.”

“Frozen, so cold.”

The first two phrases were familiar, found in their past chats. The last phrase was new, crafted by whoever was now using Duan Yiling’s account. This mixture of familiarity and novelty filled Tian Yang with surprise, confusion, and deep unease.

He couldn’t understand the meaning of “Frozen, so cold.” The words baffled him. Desperate, he sought help from the Lang Detective Agency.

At first, Jin Enpei thought Tian Yang was playing a prank or making up stories. But as they talked and she saw the marked photos and chat records, she gradually believed his account, though with some skepticism.

Recently, Tian Yang messaged Jin Enpei again.

Since the new messages from Duan Yiling’s QQ, he had changed the password multiple times, but each time, someone logged in again, sending him messages he had once sent her. This distressed Tian Yang greatly. Even more terrifying, the login locations were not distant or unusual—they were always places Duan Yiling frequented when alive: her workplace, their rented home, or her family home.

This clue deepened Tian Yang’s fear.

Today, Jin Enpei shared this story with Xu Lang because Tian Yang had messaged her once more.

Handing her phone to Xu Lang, Jin Enpei showed the chat records. Xu Lang saw messages from last night, sent by Duan Yiling’s QQ to Tian Yang—messages he recognized all too well. They were exactly the texts he had sent her on the day she died.

“Are you off work?”

“Did you get on the bus?”

“Should I come pick you up?”

“Why aren’t you replying?”

“Did you get home? Please reply once you see this.”

“Ling’er, are you there? Why don’t you answer?”

“Ling’er, I’m so uneasy; my left eyelid keeps twitching. Did something happen to you?”

“I feel nauseous, like I want to vomit. Ling’er, please reply quickly.”

“Frozen, so cold.”

Xu Lang opened two chat conversations Tian Yang had sent to Jin Enpei: one from a year ago on the day of Duan Yiling’s accident, and one from last night’s messages from her QQ. Both showed exact dates and times, confirming Tian Yang’s truthfulness.

Yet, after reviewing everything, Xu Lang still couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Was it a prank exploiting Tian Yang’s love for Duan Yiling? He had denied noticing anyone deliberately messing with him.

Could it be a hacker? But what motive would a hacker have? For fun? Xu Lang shook his head. Among computer experts he knew—Lu Xing from the Criminal Investigation Team Two and Liao Mi—both skilled enough to be called hackers, none would waste time on such pointless mischief. Hackers always have purposes behind their actions.

Tian Yang’s family was well-off, he had a steady job and decent income but was no tech employee or wealthy magnate. Why would hackers target him for such a trivial prank?

Could Duan Yiling actually be alive? That idea surfaced briefly but was quickly dismissed by Xu Lang. The death certificate, official signatures, and genuine accident photos Tian Yang had provided Jin Enpei proved she died a year ago in a vehicular accident.

Eliminating pranks, hackers, and the possibility of Duan Yiling being alive, Xu Lang considered other explanations:

First, Tian Yang might be lying, fabricating the entire story to fool Jin Enpei.

Second, Tian Yang was telling the truth about her death, but all these incidents were self-deceptions or an elaborate charade to convince others—or himself—that Duan Yiling was not truly gone, unable to let go of his six-year first love.

Third, a third party existed, someone intimately familiar with both Tian Yang and Duan Yiling, yet unknown or little known to them. This person knew their every move, possibly a former admirer of Duan Yiling or a secret suitor who blamed Tian Yang for her death and sought revenge. Alternatively, this person might be a suitor of Tian Yang, trying to break him free from Duan Yiling’s memory to seize a chance with him.

Fourth, the deceased was not Duan Yiling but Tian Yang himself. After his death, Duan Yiling, overwhelmed with grief, developed a delusion, mistaking herself for Tian Yang and believing it was she who died—a psychological disorder known as delusional psychosis.

Which of these possibilities was true—or if the truth lay elsewhere—only meeting Tian Yang in person and witnessing his interactions with Jin Enpei would reveal the reality.

This was the ultimate enigma.