Ghost Exorciser: Is Loved By All-Chapter 748: Decision

Lin Zhihao looked at the talisman in his hand.

His fingers trembled just a little. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again.

His face looked all mixed up—like he didn’t know whether to cry, yell, or just walk away.

"Zhihao," Liu Meiyu said again, her voice a little softer this time.

"You’re smarter than this, okay? Don’t let some girl who pretends to talk to ghosts mess with your head."

"Yeah," Fang Jinhai added. "Even if she believes this stuff, that doesn’t make it real."

Zhao Yiran held her hand out farther. "Come on. It’s just paper. You don’t need it."

Lin Zhihao looked at all of them, one by one. Then his eyes landed on Xu Tian, who hadn’t said anything yet.

Xu Tian stepped forward.

"Zhihao," he said quietly,

"I used to think this kind of stuff was fake too. Like... ghost stuff, curses, whatever. I laughed at it."

Yu Holea blinked but stayed quiet.

Xu Tian scratched the back of his head.

"But then... I saw things. Weird things. Like you suddenly trying to hit Holea and then fainting. The way your voice changed... Dude, I saw it with my own eyes. That wasn’t normal."

The others went quiet.

Xu Tian pointed at the talisman in Lin Zhihao’s hand.

"If she says this thing can help, even for a little while... why not just keep it? What’s the harm?"

"But what if it’s all fake?" Lin Zhihao whispered.

"Then you’re out 100 yuan," Xu Tian said with a shrug. "Big deal. You’re rich anyway, aren’t you?"

Lin Zhihao laughed a little at that. A tired kind of laugh.

"But what if it’s not fake?" Xu Tian added, looking serious now.

"What if everything she said is true and that paper is the only thing keeping you safe right now?"

Everyone looked at Lin Zhihao again.

He looked down at the talisman, then at Zhao Yiran’s hand...and finally nodded his head.

"Okay. I don’t want this talisman."

Lin Zhihao held the talisman tightly for a moment.

Then he sighed and slowly walked over to Yu Holea.

"Here," he said, handing the talisman back to her. "I don’t want this."

Yu Holea blinked. "Are you sure?"

Zhihao nodded, even though his eyes looked a little unsure. "Yeah. Maybe they’re right. Maybe this is all in my head."

Yu Holea didn’t say anything. She just reached out and took the talisman back, her face calm.

Fang Jinhai smirked. "Finally, some sense," he muttered, then turned to Zhihao and added, "Dude, go get your 100 yuan back. You shouldn’t pay for some ghost story."

But Zhihao shook his head.

"No. Let her keep it," he said, his voice quiet. "Take it as... compensation."

Yu Holea tilted her head. "Compensation?"

Zhihao gave a small smile. "For the slap I almost gave you. Even if I wasn’t in control, it still happened."

Yu Holea looked at him for a second, then tucked the money into her pocket.

"Alright," she said. "Since you gave me 100 yuan, I’ll help you when the time really comes."

Liu Meiyu’s mouth dropped open.

"Wow," she said loudly. "You’re seriously going to keep the money?"

Yu Holea raised an eyebrow. "He told me to."

"That’s not the point!" Meiyu snapped. She stepped forward, arms crossed.

"You are so shameless! I knew it! You never cared about Zhihao. You just wanted money."

She looked Yu Holea up and down with a mocking sneer.

"Just how poor are you? You need to scam a hundred yuan out of someone who’s obviously not thinking straight?"

Yu Holea didn’t reply, just stared at her with the same calm face.

But Xu Tian frowned hard and stepped forward.

"Hey!" he said, his voice sharper than usual. "That’s enough."

Liu Meiyu turned to him with a glare. "What? She’s the one running a ghost scam like it’s a school carnival."

Xu Tian shook his head.

"You think this is about money? She literally gave him a warning, tried to help, and you were the one yelling the whole time.

If she really wanted to scam someone, she’d ask for a million, not a hundred."

Fang Jinhai scoffed. "Whatever, man. You’re just defending her ’cause you like spooky girls."

Xu Tian rolled his eyes. "At least she’s trying to do something instead of mocking people all day."

The live stream chat exploded:

"Meiyu is right, tho. Girl just pocketed the cash."

"She really said ’pay me or stay cursed.’"

"100 yuan to get roasted and told you’re gonna die."

"Why are they all fighting over this? It’s just a piece of paper!"

"Yu Holea really keeping the money with a straight face... queen behavior or scammer?"

"I’m kinda on Meiyu’s side this time ngl."

"Nah, I think Xu Tian’s right. She didn’t force him."

Meiyu huffed and turned away.

"Whatever. If he wants to waste his money on that nonsense, let him."

After the evening shoot, all the actors went on their way.

That night, after the filming wrapped up and everyone said goodbye, Lin Zhihao went back to his room.

The hallway of the guest house was quiet. Too quiet.

His footsteps echoed against the wooden floor as he walked, his slippers making soft shuffling sounds. The lights above flickered once, then stayed on. He paused and looked up, but didn’t say anything.

Just tired, he thought. It’s been a long day.

Inside his room, he threw his backpack on the bed and sighed. He grabbed his towel and a change of clothes, then headed for the bathroom.

Steam soon filled the air as hot water ran down his back. The shower helped him relax a little. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

But then... he heard something.

A soft creak.

His eyes snapped open.

Was that the door?

He turned off the water, his heart beating a little faster now.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice bouncing off the tiled walls. "Is someone there?"

No answer.

He wiped his face and reached for the towel. Then he looked toward the rack where he had put his clean clothes earlier.

They were gone.

"What the..." he whispered.

He peeked out from behind the shower curtain, and sure enough—his clothes were on the floor, just outside the bathroom door.

Dripping wet, Zhihao stepped out carefully. The air felt colder than before, and the lights above seemed dimmer, like someone had turned them down halfway.

He walked toward the clothes slowly.

Maybe they just slipped off the rack, he told himself.

He bent down to pick them up.

But just as his fingers touched the fabric—

The clothes disappeared.

Vanished.

Gone in an instant, like smoke.

Zhihao gasped and stumbled backward, falling onto the cold tile floor with a wet slap.

"What the hell?!"

His breathing was loud now. He scrambled up and turned around—

—and there they were.

His clothes were back on the rack.

Right where he had left them.

Zhihao stood frozen, water still dripping from his hair.

Was he going crazy?

He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The clothes didn’t move. They looked perfectly normal.

He backed away, slowly. Grabbed the towel. Wrapped it around himself, hands shaking a little.

Maybe I’m just tired, he told himself again.

But then he looked at the foggy mirror above the sink and saw something.

A handprint. Right behind him.

Pressed on the mirror from the inside.

But when he turned around, no one was there. Only steam.

Zhihao dried off as fast as he could, heart still pounding from what he saw in the bathroom.

He didn’t even care about drying his hair properly—he just threw on a hoodie and sweatpants and left the lights on as he crawled into bed.

"This is dumb," he whispered to himself, hugging his blanket.

"Just a mirror. Just steam. Maybe I slipped or something..."

He rolled over, pulling the covers up to his chin. His body was tired, but his mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

He kept thinking about the disappearing clothes. The handprint. The way the lights flickered.

Eventually, after what felt like forever, his eyes started to close.

The room was quiet now. Just the soft hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the old wooden walls.

Sleep finally pulled him in.

But sometime in the middle of the night—he couldn’t tell what time it was—Zhihao’s eyes snapped open.

Something was wrong.

His chest felt heavy.

Like... he couldn’t breathe.

He tried to suck in air, but it was like something was pressing down on his throat.

Choking him.

His eyes went wide as panic shot through his body.

He tried to sit up—but couldn’t.

Tried to scream—but nothing came out.

His hands flew up to his neck, searching for whatever was grabbing him.

And then he felt it. A hand.

Wrapped tight around his throat.

But the worst part?

It was his own hand.

His left hand was choking him.

Shaking and squeezing like it had a mind of its own.

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