The rain drizzled endlessly over Jiangcheng.

Lydia Carson stood in front of an old apartment building, dragging along a worn, gray suitcase.

The landlady shivered and threw a nervous glance toward the stairwell. "You go up by yourself, alright? Just so we’re clear—if anything happens, don’t come blaming me."

Lydia offered a polite smile, nodding slightly.

"Thank you, ma’am. This place actually seems pretty nice."

She accepted the key from the landlady and calmly turned toward the stairs with her suitcase in hand.

"Such a strange girl. Plenty of normal apartments around, but she insists on renting a haunted one," the landlady muttered under her breath.

A month ago, a family of five living here was slaughtered overnight by the daughter’s ex-husband in a brutal act of revenge. Ever since then, weird stuff kept happening in this building. Tenants ran into accidents one after another—near-misses with car crashes or banging their heads in their own bathrooms.

Within two weeks, nearly everyone had packed up and left.

A week ago, the landlady, stubbornly dismissing superstition, rented out one of the units to a hairstylist without mentioning the gruesome history of the place.

Three days later, the hairstylist narrowly escaped with his life. This building was infamous as a haunted apartment complex.

Just yesterday, a young woman wearing a cap and mask showed up with a newspaper in hand, saying she wanted to rent an apartment.

She specifically asked for the one where the murder had happened—Apartment 302.

The landlady tried to talk her out of it but didn’t get anywhere, so she let it go.

Honestly, the girl would probably move out in three days tops.

"Kids these days, always looking for trouble," the landlady muttered, shaking her head as she walked off in her flip-flops.

The trouble-seeking Lydia Carson unlocked the door to her new place.

As soon as she stepped in, a cold, eerie draft hit her.

The air reeked of old blood and decay, as though it had been stewing there for ages.

Several dark shadows, like vultures spotting a carcass, lunged at her, their invisible jaws snapping as if they wanted to tear apart her soul.

Lydia didn’t flinch.

Before they could come close, a flash of golden light sent them crashing to the floor.

A piercing, ghostly wail echoed through the apartment.

Lydia yawned, dragging over a chair and plopping down on it lazily.

"Well, I’m not in the mood to move. You guys clean this place up for me." A female ghost in a white dress stared at Lydia Carson with fear, her translucent body trembling uncontrollably.

The other four spirits weren’t doing any better.

Despite their resentment, they didn’t dare protest and reluctantly started cleaning the apartment as Lydia instructed.

The place was a three-bedroom, one-living-room setup, complete with a fridge, air conditioning, and even a washing machine. If it weren’t a haunted house, Lydia wouldn’t have been able to snag it for just five hundred bucks a month.

After they were done cleaning, Lydia raised her hand, forming a precise gesture to purify the lingering sinister energy that clung to the place.

There wasn’t much choice—layers of blood had seeped into every corner of the house before, some even embedded deep into the cracks in the walls.

But no worries, she was more than capable of handling it.

The five spirits shrank back into the corners, trying their best to minimize their presence as much as possible, terror plain in their eyes.

Lydia shot them a sharp glance. “What’s with the pity party? Do I need to remind you how many tenants you’ve scared off these past months? Anyone else would’ve wiped you out completely by now.”

Given they hadn’t caused any actual deaths, she shifted in her seat to get more comfortable.

“Want to move on peacefully? It’s one grand per head,” she said casually.

Pausing for effect, she added, “Cash only, by the way—not accepting ghost currency.”

The ghosts: “……” Seeing that they had no interest, Lydia Carson waved her hand dismissively. “Fine, whatever. If you don’t want to, suit yourselves. Just go pick a room to hang out in and don’t bother me.”

She took out her livestream equipment and began setting it up. After fixing the camera angle and arranging everything just right, she finally started her first livestream in this world.

Yeah, she had time-traveled.

Back in her original world, she was a disciple of the mystical arts, widely respected and addressed as "Master." Just before she ended up here, she had defeated a powerful demon that had been wreaking havoc. Her cultivation and spiritual merits had soared as a result, and then—bam!—she ended up here.

She didn’t have any of the previous host’s memories, so there was plenty she didn’t get. But there were three things she did know:

One: The original host of this body was a pitiful girl covered head to toe in karma-induced sores and had been kicked out of her home because of it. What’s worse, her family was filthy rich—her dad was a tycoon, and her sister was a big-time celebrity.

Two: To fix her face, the original host had racked up a whopping $300,000 in online loans and was now haunted by endless repayment notifications, driving her insane.

Three: She had been a content creator—a bizarre one whose gimmick was making money off how unattractive she was.

On her very first day here, Lydia casually got rid of all those ugly marks. The good news? She now looked pretty again. The bad news? She’d lost her main ‘selling point.’

Thankfully, she had a solid mindset. After spending a few minutes looking into it, she realized something important—streaming in this world didn’t have to rely on being unattractive. Turns out, beauty and talent could pay the bills just as well. Lydia decided she'd make a living off mysticism.

She adjusted her posture and pointed the livestream camera at herself.

The stream title? "Lydia the Oracle's Daily Readings."

Thanks to the original host's prior efforts, she'd already gained a decent following. This time, a few minutes after going live, the viewer count hit 3,000.

But the title and that face? They almost sent her old viewers into complete shock.

“??? Wait, did I click the wrong stream? Who is this beauty?”

“Ugh, seriously? Who wants to watch a pretty-face streamer? Bring back the ugly one!”

“Told ya before, she was probably caking on makeup to look that awful. Y’all didn’t believe me then. Believe me now?”

“Bet her company swapped her out. New face, new vibe, huh? Judging by this title, she’s pivoting to superstitions?”

“LMAO, here I thought she was paying debts with affiliate links. Turns out she’s going full mystic scammer now. Honestly, I’m in tears.”

“Fine, you switched hosts, but could someone tell me where the OG ugly streamer went?”

Lydia took a sip of water and calmly said, “No one switched. It’s always been me. The timing wasn’t right before, but now everything’s aligned, so I’ve decided to show my real self. As for the style—yeah, that’s changing.”"I'm letting everyone know now—starting today, I'm a mysticism streamer. Live fortune-telling. One 'Phoenix Crown' per session, and that's it for the day."

"Wait, what? A 'Phoenix Crown' is 1258 bucks! Are you so broke you're resorting to scams now?"

"1258 for a prediction? You might as well just rob a bank!"

"Unfollowing you. You used to be ugly but kind-hearted, but now you're pretty and just plain wicked."

Lydia Carson remained completely unfazed.

Being called a fraud? That was nothing new.

Fortune-telling was all about fate anyway.

She put down her water glass and kept going.

"If I don't hit the mark, you get a full refund. One 'Phoenix Crown,' honest deal. Miss this chance, and you won't see it again!"

"Girl, please stop shouting. Even a five-year-old wouldn't believe this nonsense."

"Anyone who tips you deserves to be laughed at forever!"

[Peaceful Blessings] sends 'Phoenix Crown' X1.

Chat: "???"

"OMG, someone really just threw money at this? People really are still dumb as rocks!"

"Bet that’s one of her plants."

"Wow, this fake setup is so cringe. I can’t even watch anymore."

Ignoring the noise, Lydia directly invited Peaceful Blessings to join a video call.Soon, a woman appeared on the right side of the screen. She looked completely drained, her face tight with worry, and her bloodshot eyes said she hadn’t slept well in ages.

"Hi, streamer. My name's Mabel Griffin. My daughter’s been sick lately."

"I was hoping you could tell me when she might get better," she said, her voice weak and lifeless.

Mabel's cheeks were sunken, her skin had a dull yellowish tone, and there were patches of gray showing in her hair. Honestly, the moment she spent the money, regret hit her hard.

She couldn’t explain why she had done it—it was like some voice in her head convinced her that this streamer, who looked younger than her daughter, could actually help.

Now, seeing the flood of comments on the screen, reality snapped back.

But, since she’d already spent the money, she might as well hope for a miracle.

Her defeated voice and sorrowful eyes sent a wave of unease rippling through the viewers. At the same time, many of them were furious at Lydia Carson.

“This poor lady! It’s so hard for her to make money. How could the streamer scam her like this? Don’t you fear karma?”

“Why isn’t this account banned yet? What’s the mod team even doing?”

“Seeing this lady reminds me of my mom. If I were really sick and my mom had nowhere else to turn, she might’ve gotten conned like this too.” "Streamer, just give the money back to the landlady! I have money, and you tricked me! I can't stand parents being conned because of their kids!"

"My opinion: respect and blessings. Just don't die in front of my house."

"Wow, someone above has such a stinky mouth. Must have a tough life, huh?"

Lydia Carson frowned slightly.

Mabel Griffin's face showed her as that classic honest and kind-hearted type, the kind of person you'd call a good neighbor. Her kids seemed like decent people too.

But the people around her? Not so much.

Her original life chart? Smooth sailing, with healthy children and no major crises.

Now? Her children's fortunes looked bleak, holding signs of danger and complete disaster.

Lydia shook her head, her expression darkening.

"Your daughter’s not sick. She’s being targeted."

“There’s a vengeful ghost attached to her. That ghost is looking for a substitute, and if it’s not resolved soon, by tonight, your daughter’s body will be taken over.”

Afraid Mabel wouldn't get it, Lydia simplified her explanation further.

"Basically, if you don’t act now, your child will die tonight."