PD -Chapter 117 Someone in the Wardrobe

Early the next morning, when Liu Xiaopeng showed up at the office again… although he was a bit quieter than usual, he didn’t seem to be in any serious condition.

Shentu also arrived at my office early in the morning. I noticed she was wearing Tang Shanshan’s clothes again, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but I couldn’t really say anything about it.

“Little brothers, time to set off.” Shentu leaned against the office doorway, urging us with a glance.

I took out the car keys. At first, I was worried Liu Xiaopeng wasn’t in the right state to drive and wanted to do it myself, but he snatched the keys from me before I could say anything, so I had no choice but to let him be.

Our car was still that Mercedes G-Class Zhu Zhu, the young lady of the Zhu family, had given us. It looked flashy enough… but it guzzled fuel like crazy. I even started regretting not asking her to throw in an unlimited fuel card while she was at it.

Shentu, now, didn’t look anything like the legendary Ghost Emperor she once was. She casually got into the back seat and lounged there in an extremely seductive posture, even taking off her shoes and revealing her silk-stocking-clad jade-like feet, completely treating Liu Xiaopeng and me like outsiders.

I couldn’t help but laugh in frustration and turned back to complain mid-ride:

“I say, sister, aren’t you the all-powerful Ghost Emperor? Why don’t you just tear open some space-time tunnel and teleport us there? Why bother riding in a car like this? Isn’t it tiring?”

“You really are boring,” Shentu said as she straightened slightly. Her slender fingers gently brushed along her silk-stocking-covered long legs as she glanced at me.

“With a beautiful woman like me accompanying you, doesn’t the journey get a lot more… exciting?”

“And when you live long enough, you’ll realize that rushing through everything is incredibly dull.”

She leaned back again, then suddenly seemed to remember something.

“Oh, I forgot. You probably won’t live long enough to reach my age anyway.”

I gritted my teeth and snorted, refusing to engage further with this seductive troublemaker, then turned to look at Liu Xiaopeng.

He hadn’t spoken at all. His hands were on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road as if he was driving attentively—but no one knew what he was actually thinking.

I didn’t know how to comfort him anymore. His knot in the heart could only be untied after we reached his hometown and uncovered the truth from back then.

With a sigh, I stopped thinking about the chaos in my mind, took off my jacket, covered my face with it, and drifted off to sleep.

I don’t know how long passed before the car suddenly came to a stop. I glanced at the time—it had already been over two hours. We had arrived in a relatively quiet suburban area.

This was a county in a neighboring province. Its development wasn’t great… so the old tube-building Liu Xiaopeng’s family once lived in hadn’t been demolished. Instead, it had been renovated.

The car stopped in a small courtyard in front of the building. We got out and saw that the building had clearly just been repainted, and its structure had been repaired.

But the moment I stood in front of the entrance, I could still faintly recognize it—this was the same building that had appeared in Liu Xiaopeng’s subconscious dream yesterday.

Liu Xiaopeng stood beside me, and it reminded me of the scenes from his childhood dream. I turned to him and patted his shoulder, signaling him to lead the way.

He nodded and walked to the front. Shentu and I followed behind him as we entered the stairwell.

The stairwell had been renovated as well; the lighting was much better than in his memory of the old building. It no longer felt eerie or decayed—instead, it carried a somewhat nostalgic, lived-in warmth.

He led us quickly to the third-floor corridor, then suddenly stopped.

I walked up beside him and followed his gaze.

Not far ahead, Room 309 had its door open, with some miscellaneous items and a coal stove placed outside. It seemed someone was still living there.

I looked at Liu Xiaopeng.

He understood my question and said, “This place was later handed over to my uncle. They sold it many years ago… I originally thought no one was living here anymore.”

“Let’s go take a look,” I said, stepping forward first.

Just as I was about to knock, the kettle on the stove suddenly let out a sharp whistle, releasing a burst of white steam.

The door to 309 immediately opened. A middle-aged woman came out, preparing to pick up the boiling kettle. She froze when she saw us raising our hand to knock.

“Who are you?” she asked while lifting the kettle.

“Oh, hello. My name is Liu Xiaopeng. This house used to belong to my family,” he explained, stepping forward. “I haven’t been back in a long time… I just wanted to take a look.”

He scratched his head, looking slightly hesitant, afraid she might misunderstand.

“Oh, so you’re Xiaopeng,” the woman said with a faint smile, placing the kettle down.

“You… know me?” Liu Xiaopeng asked in surprise, frowning as he tried to recall her face, but clearly couldn’t recognize her.

“I was tidying up the house and found an old photo album. There were pictures of you as a child, and your name was written on it.”

“Oh, you’re all together, right? Come in.”

The woman seemed very kind, not at all as cold as I expected. She carried the kettle inside and let us in as well.

The room wasn’t large—just a one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen. As soon as we entered, we saw a small stool in front of the TV, where a four- or five-year-old child was sitting, staring unblinkingly at the screen, engrossed in an animated show.

“Xiaotong, stop watching TV all the time. We have guests. Say hello to the uncles,” the woman called.

Only then did the child snap out of it and turn to look at us strangers.

“This uncle used to live here too. You even saw his childhood photos before, remember?”

The child held a remote control, stared at Liu Xiaopeng for a long moment, then nodded. As if recalling something, he suddenly asked:

“Uncle, when you were little… did you ever see the person in the wardrobe?”

Liu Xiaopeng froze, his expression turning complicated.

“What nonsense are you talking about!” the woman immediately rushed over and lightly smacked him. “How many times have I told you—there’s no one in the wardrobe.”

Then she turned to us apologetically.

“I’m really sorry, kids have too vivid imaginations. Please don’t take it seriously.”

I frowned and looked at the child. His expression was extremely serious—he didn’t seem like he was joking at all.

And as someone experienced in dealing with supernatural cases, I knew very well that children sometimes see things adults cannot.

Thinking of this, I walked closer to Xiaotong, crouched down, and asked:

“What does the person in the wardrobe look like?”