Eight Uncles' Beloved Treasure (Lily)

Chapter 320 Don’t Use Your Phone at Night

Grace could not spare a moment to take a second look, as the elderly woman vanished in an instant,

and she was swiftly pushed back onto the bed.

Quinnie scolded her angrily, “Gracie, don’t you care about your life? Who allowed you to get out of

bed? Seems like you haven’t bled enough!”

Grace pursed her lips, choosing to remain silent

Late at night, in a rented room in a particular neighborhood, a young girl sat on the bed, swiping

through her mobile phone when she suddenly sensed something peculiar.

Switching on the light, she rose from the bed and cautiously moved around the house, sniffing the air

as she walked.

“Strange, where did the smell of dead mice come from…” she muttered to herself.

She swept the broom under the bed, only finding a few stray hairpins and coins that had rolled

underneath.

There’s nothing here!” she concluded with a frown, shaking her head.

Then she sniffed the air once more, the odor had mysteriously vanished.

“It’s really strange,” the girl muttered to herself. “I’ll have to ask the landlord to come and take a look.

another day.”

With that thought, she switched off the light and settled back onto the bed, engrossed in her phone.

Now and then, she burst into laughter, the glow from the phone’s screen casting an eerie light on her

face.

Unbeknownst to her, a girl stood silently behind her, her head lowered and her hair covering her face.

She gazed intently at the screen of the phone, mirroring the girl’s actions and occasionally flashing a

grin of her own. Yet, the girl remained completely oblivious to the presence behind her.

“Recently, there have been reports at Olivine Temple saying that dolls made by Spring Friends were

made of ashes…”

The girl let out a startled “Huh” as she came across something unexpected in the middle of the night.

She quickly swiped away, feeling a slight sense of unease. Late–night browsing often leads to

stumbling upon various content, ranging from tantalizing culinary delights to DIY tips and even horror

short videos.

As she continued scrolling, she encountered a series of videos titled “Do not watch this video at night”

She hastily turned off her mobile phone, feeling a sense of unease creeping up within her. “Don’t watch

it, -don’t watch it. It’s scary,” she muttered to herself, trying to brush off the unsettling thoughts. She

casually

tossed her phone to the end of the bed, practicing good health” habits by keeping it away from her

sleeping area to minimize radiation exposure.

As the girl closed her eyes, ready to drift off to sleep, a peculiar odor wafted through the air–an

unmistakable scent of decaying mice, growing increasingly distinct and pervasive.

She hugged her blanker tightly and turned over, reaching out to adjust the air conditioner to a cool 18

degrees.

Feeling the comforting breeze, she nestled back into her quilt, the chill in the air dispersing any

lingering traces of the unpleasant odor.

Feeling relieved, the girl found solace in the coolness and gradually drifted off to sleep.

As the night grew darker, the girl wrapped herself tightly in the quilt, but an unusual chill seemed to

permeate the air. Despite the comforting hum of the air conditioner, she couldn’t shake off the growing

sensation of coldness.

It was a common experience for many people to feel colder in the middle of the night when sleeping

with the air conditioner on. The initial coolness that provided relief gradually gives way to a perceived

drop in temperature as the body adjusts and becomes more sensitive to the cooler environment.

The girl reluctantly forced herself out of bed as the alarm clock blared. Rubbing her eyes, she could not

help but complain about the early morning routine.

“I’m so tired. Why do I have to go to work? I need more sleep. From now on, I should avoid using my

phone at night and make sure to go to bed before ten o’clock!” she groaned.

Realizing the importance of a good night’s sleep, she resolved to establish healthy sleep habits and

prioritize her rest.

She never kept her word.

She complained as she got up to brush her teeth and wash her face, and then she smelled the stench

again.

As she opened the closet to change her clothes, the odor grew more intense.

“Furious, where could this dead mouse smell be coming from…”

The girl diligently investigated the source of the scent, and her gaze landed on the bottom of the

wardrobe.

This particular wardrobe is of an antique design, and at its base is a built–in compartment connected to

the floor.

When the girl rented the house, the landlord mentioned the presence of miscellaneous items in the

closet and advised her not to move them.

The girl smirked and muttered, “There’s a dead mouse in there.”

Frustrated, she grumbled and called her landlord.

Having extra storage space for miscellaneous items was acceptable; she did not mind the surplus

cabinets.

However, when it came to dealing with dead mice, they had to be removed!

“Hey… Landlord, when are you planning to come and check out the wardrobe?” the girl asked while

changing her clothes.

The landlord seemed startled, and hurriedly asked, “Did you open it?”

The girl shook her head, “No.”

Having a strong aversion to meddling with other people’s belongings, the girl refrained from touching

the closet, as explicitly instructed by the landlord.

Furthermore, the wardrobe was securely locked, and she lacked both the inclination and time to

attempt. to pick the lock.

The landlord warned her. “I’m currently away on a business trip, and I’ll address the issue upon my

return. Please refrain from touching it. There are some computer accessories stored inside, and if they

get damaged, I won’t be able to handle the matter.”

Acknowledging the landlord’s response, the girl expressed her impatience, urging him to hurry back.

Then ended the call.

Gazing at the wardrobe, she retrieved her perfume and sprayed it inside, hoping to mask the repugnant

combination of scents between the perfume and the stench of the dead mice.

However, finding the resulting mixture even more unpleasant, she resorted to sealing the edges and

seams of the closet using glue.

“I guess this should be fine…” she murmured.

The odor appeared to have diminished compared to earlier. In a rush, the girl hurriedly prepared for

work, slipping on her high heels, and hastily left.

Unbeknownst to her, inside the closet, several skirts were serenely suspended from the clothes rail. At

the very end, a girl with hair cascading over her cheeks eerily hovered in the air.

“Tiffy…” The girl said quietly, “Why are you going to work again? I’m so bored at home…”

Raising her head slightly, she unveiled a visage marked by tragic gashes.

I’ve been trapped inside the closet all this time, and you sealed me away, you don’t even know I exist,”

she lamented.

The female ghost emerged from the closet, drifting aimlessly throughout the room. She seemed eerily

acquainted with her surroundings, mimicking the girl’s habitual footsteps. She lingered in the kitchen for

a moment, positioning herself beside the pot.

With hands gently folded once more, as if cradling an imaginary bowl of noodles, the ghost settled onto

he sofa.

Remaining in that position, she fixed her gaze directly upon the coffee table positioned in front of her,

her

yes unwavering.