★Suspense master Cai Bigui (aka "Uncle Ghost"), a top influencer with 4.76 million Weibo followers, finally publishes his sensational work—once restricted and deleted on the "Tianya" forum for its explosive content—now thrilling six million fans!
★A series of bizarre and eerie stories, heart-stopping and addictive, each standalone yet interconnected, pointing toward the ultimate future of our lives.
★Acclaimed suspense writers Cai Jun, Zijin Chen, and Spider highly recommended: A unique blend of horror, mystery, sci-fi, and mind-bending twists!

Is the world you see really there? Is the truth you believe even true?
Life’s a stage — but the role you’re playing… might not be yours.
If you're not a freak, you won’t encounter these strange events.
If you're not Uncle Ghost, you couldn’t imagine such madness.

The series includes 8 volumes:
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Basement Prison"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Taboo of the Snow Mountain"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Death Pending"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Island Dream"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Delusional Reality"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Assassination Loop"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: Game Shadows"
"Weirdo's Bizarre Case Files: The Time Prisoner"

I (Ghost Uncle) woke up to a world utterly changed. The woman cooking breakfast wasn’t my girlfriend Tang Shuang, but Xiao Xi, a girl I’d met at Meili Snow Mountain. Now claiming to be my wife, she insisted I was a novelist suffering from delusions — mistaking my fictional stories for real experiences. Overwhelmed by her evidence, I couldn’t refute her. My "friend" Zhang Tie, a publisher of my novels, tried to pull me back to reality, but I spiraled deeper into confusion...
Who am I? Is this world real or a fabrication? Who can I trust? If I jump off this rooftop, will I die or wake up...? The dizzying paradoxes will consume you!

Cai Bigui, born Cai Zeng, is a bestselling sci-fi and mystery novelist with six million followers online. Awarded "2019’s Top 10 Most Influential Book Reviewers".
Since 2009, his novels have sold over a million copies, including the "Long Game" series, "The Hyperbrain", the short story collection "BBQ Horror Tales", and the screenplay "Memory Reconstruction". "BBQ Horror Tales" won "Fifth Chinese Original Fiction Awards — Most Popular Short Story Collection," while "Memory Reconstruction" received the 2019 Golden Feather Award. A film adaptation of "BBQ Horror Tales" is currently in production.

Chapter 1　　 Zhao Xiaoxi 　　　　　　　　001
Chapter 2　　 Yan Nan Tang 　　　　　　　017
Chapter 3　　 A Conspiracy Suspected 　　026
Chapter 4　　 Searching for Tang Shuang 　043
Chapter 5　　 Tang Shuang’s Call 　　　　059
Chapter 6　　 Who Is Xiao Rou? 　　　　　071
Chapter 7　　 The Hand in the Black Hole 083
Chapter 8　　 Off to Germany 　　　　　　103
Chapter 9　　 Finding Xiao Rou 　　　　　114
Chapter 10　　Delusion Town 　　　　　　135
Chapter 11　　A Play Within a Play 　　　150
Chapter 12　　None of It Is Real 　　　　168
Chapter 13　　Xiaoxi’s Words 　　　　　　186
Chapter 14　　Who Can I Trust? 　　　　　200
Chapter 15　　"I’m Back" 　　　　　　　　219

Chapter 1
Zhao Xiaoxi

I woke up to a world that had completely changed.
No — that wasn’t quite right. I was still lying in my own bed, in the bedroom of my duplex apartment. The structure remained unchanged, but...
The ceiling light was the usual one.
I stared blankly at the ceiling. In my memory, the light fixture had been round. Now, it was square.
Had someone replaced it without me noticing? Had I replaced it and forgotten? I rubbed my temples groggily — or had it always been square, and my memory was playing tricks on me? Closing my eyes, I tried to piece it together, but my thoughts were sluggish, pulling me back toward sleep.
Had I done something unusual last night? I did remember drinking wine with my girlfriend, Tang Shuang, followed by two rounds in bed. A bottle of red between us wasn’t enough to black out, and twice in a night was hardly excessive. So why did I feel like I’d been hit by a truck? My limbs were leaden; even sitting up felt Herculean. I yawned. Pathetic. Need to exercise more...
The sound of running water came from the upstairs bathroom. A woman’s voice, drawling and playful, called out, "Still not up?"
Eyes still shut, I mumbled, "Getting there..." Then my eyes snapped open. Goosebumps erupted down my arms. That voice wasn’t Tang Shuang’s.
It was familiar, though — someone I’d heard before, but couldn’t place. Definitely not Tang Shuang.
My girlfriend, Tang Shuang, was a CEO who managed her father’s logistics empire. She earned 300 times my salary, spoke four languages, practiced kyūdō, and — most unfairly — looked like she’d stepped out of a magazine. Her voice matched her personality: crisp, commanding, impossible to ignore. The voice from the bathroom was the opposite — husky, languid, like Zhou Xun after a pack of cigarettes.
"Breakfast is getting cold. Come downstairs."
Breakfast? My suspicion deepened. Even if Tang Shuang’s voice had changed overnight, she’d never cook for me. The woman could do anything — except operate a stove. So who the hell was in my bathroom? And where was Tang Shuang?
Steeling myself, I threw off the covers and crept toward the bathroom. The faucet shut off just as I reached the door. A woman stepped out — nearly colliding with me.
I recoiled. Then I saw her face.
Even in the dim morning light, I recognized her. My head spun, thoughts scattering like trash after a music festival. No wonder the voice had sounded familiar. This woman was Zhao Xiaoxi. A year ago, we’d climbed a mountain together.
What the actual fuck?
Under normal circumstances, I’d have hugged her — relieved she was alive. But nothing about this was normal. My mouth moved uselessly, "X-Xiaoxi... why are you in my house?"
Her smile faded. She sighed, her tone chastising, "Did you skip your meds again?"
Meds? What meds? Yet my traitorous mouth stammered, "T-took them."
Ignoring me, she brushed past to the nightstand, yanking open a drawer. Her back to me, she counted under her breath, "Two, four, six..." Then she turned, shaking her head. "Cai Bigui, you haven’t taken them in ten days. Last time, you at least flushed them. This time..." Another sigh. "I’ve been too busy to check on you. My fault."
My brain short-circuited. Even as I mumbled incoherently, two vague images surfaced: rectangular pillboxes with unreadable labels.
Xiaoxi approached — taller than Tang Shuang, nearly my height even barefoot. She wore jeans and a "Paul Frank" tee, the hem riding up to reveal a sliver of waist. Cupping my face, she gave my cheeks two gentle pats. "Don’t worry. It’s okay." She nodded at the nightstand. "Pills are in the top drawer. Bottom one has a black box. Open it. Everything will make sense." A wry smile. "Six months without an episode... I almost forgot what it’s like."
My head throbbed. I ground my thumb into my temple. "Box? Episode? What are you — Where’s Tang Shuang? Tang Shuang, my girlfriend?"
At Tang Shuang’s name, Xiaoxi’s expression darkened. But she inhaled sharply, forcing a smile. "I’m late for work." She repeated, "Open the box." Then, checking her watch, she gasped. "Shit, I’ve got a live stream." Ignoring my stunned silence, she grabbed a red baseball cap from the closet and clattered downstairs. Her final words floated up, "Take your meds after. Be good."
Alone, I sat on the bed like a hungover amnesiac — or a mental patient. Maybe I was mentally ill. How else could I explain this?
Let’s recap:
My girlfriend, Tang Shuang, had vanished overnight, replaced by Xiaoxi — a woman who’d disappeared a year ago during our mountain expedition. By far this all can be concluded as "Tang Shuang is messing with me", but there's still one thing I cannot fool myself with this farfetched explanation: A year ago, Shui Ge and I, Xiaoxi, Officer Liang and a girl named Xiao Ming went to Yunnan tegether to the snow mountain. Five went but only four of us survived. Xiaoxi sacrificed for us in a werid way, vanished at the pick. She never made it down the mountain. Since then, her name became one of the missing persons, and I never saw her after that.
Yet here she is, instead, Tang Shuang went missing.
Xiaoxi acted like she lived here, knew where everything was, and had been monitoring my medication.
I scanned the bedroom.
This was my apartment — the duplex I’d bought five years ago. But details were off:
The ceiling light: square, not round.
The desk: lighter than I remembered.
The bookshelf: missing my Stephen King and Keigo Higashino novels, now stocked with Yu Qiuyu, Yang Lan, and — Jesus — "What to Expect When You’re Expecting", as if the people living in here are preparing for a baby.
The place looks the same in general, but all of these details suggest that this is not actually MY ROOM.
Xiaoxi’s voice echoed: "Open the black box."
I knelt by the nightstand. A leather one, material hand-picked by myself, exactly the same as I remembered.
The top drawer held only two pillboxes labeled Olanzapine and Risperidone. I've never heard of such names before. What the hell? The leaflets inside listed uses: "Schizophrenia... delusions... hallucinations..."
I crumpled the leaflet and kicked it across the room. I’m not crazy! I stumpped on it a few times to calm myself down. then reached for the second drawer.
The bottom drawer was heavier. Inside, a black box nearly filled the space. It took two minutes to wrestle it free.
"Open the black box and you'll know what's gping on."
I sat on the carpet, let out a deep breath and opened it.
Pandorax's box happens to be black as well. Except what lay inside wasn’t a bomb or severed limbs — just five books and an ancient iPad.
Five novels, all from the same series.
My hands shook as I read the titles:
"Weirdo’s Bizarre Case Files: The Basement Prison"
"Weirdo’s Bizarre Case Files: The Mountain Taboo"
"Weirdo’s Bizarre Case Files: The Time Prisoner"
"Weirdo’s Bizarre Case Files: The Island Dream"
"Weirdo’s Bizarre Case Files: Game Shadows"
All authored by Cai Bigui — me.
What on earth is going on here? That's right, although my main job is running a small factory, after experiencing some eerie events last year, I wrote down some of those stories. I published these stories on an online forum, and they attracted quite a few readers. Eventually, I even gained a group of fans, and editors from publishing houses contacted me. However, I haven't reached an agreement with any of them yet. Could it be that some unscrupulous booksellers downloaded the content I wrote from the internet and published it without permission? But judging from the quality of the binding, these five novels don't seem like pirated books. Moreover... I didn't write that many novels online.
I took a deep breath and picked up the second book in the series, "The Mountain Taboo", eagerly flipping through its pages.
Indeed, no matter which page I turned to, the content was the story I had written on the forum. Moreover, it was a carefully proofread version. All the typos that I remembered being criticized by my fans had been corrected. This book, "The Mountain Taboo", tells the adventure of Xiaoxi, Shui Ge, Xiao Ming, and Interpol Officer Liang on Mount Kawagebo. It was also the first story I wrote on the online forum. My girlfriend, Tang Shuang, initially got to know me because she read "The Mountain Taboo" that I wrote.
I put down "The Mountain Taboo" and picked up "The Time Prisoner." This section narrates my experience of outwitting and struggling with a "time prisoner". I had two encounters with her, with mixed results. To this day, she remains a nightmare in my heart.
These two books were indeed written by me, but... what about the remaining three? The first book in this series is called "The Basement Prison". I can probably guess the content. On our way to Mount Kawagebo, Shui Ge told us a story about an underground garage that was hard to distinguish between truth and fiction, captivating and memorable. I still remember the plot to this day. However, I never wrote this story down. After all, it was Shui Ge's story, and if anyone were to write it, it should be him! I picked up "The Basement Prison" and flipped to the first page. As soon as I looked at it, cold sweat started to pour down.
"Do you have any friends with strange habits? For example, always being concerned about the angle of the steering wheel while driving, or repeatedly checking the door lock before going out, or having a choice phobia, standing in front of a shelf full of drinks and being unable to pick one that suits their taste for a long time."
This is the beginning of the novel.
The Shui Ge I know, Huo Jinshui, is indeed such a person. What's more terrifying is that the tone of this passage does indeed resemble my writing. I closed my eyes and thought about it. If I were to write the story of "The Basement Prison", I would probably start just like this. But — I opened my eyes — the problem is, I have never written this story, not a single word! It was as if I had been bitten by a snake. I threw the book in my hand onto the floor. The pages flipped on the ground, slowly closing together, like a venomous creature unwilling to die.
A novel that I have never written, bearing my name, and the wording and phrasing look just like something I would write. What is going on here? My breathing became more and more rapid. I mustered up the courage to stare at the fourth and fifth books spread out on the floor, "The Island Dream" and "Game Shadows". Without even looking, I could guess the content inside.
In "The Island Dream", it would be about "Uncle Ghost" — my nickname — and Tang Shuang, on an island in the Maldives, how they went through an adventure, solved the mystery of Tang Shuang's background, and became a couple.
As for "Game Shadows" it should be about my second encounter with "time prisoner" Marilyn (Ma Lili) with the help of Tang Shuang; from another perspective, it tells the story of how I, with my current girlfriend, confronted my ex-girlfriend... These are all my real experiences. If I were to write them out after obtaining the consent of all the parties involved and making some technical modifications, they would probably be quite popular. However, the problem is — just like with "The Basement Prison" — I haven't written these two novels. If "The Basement Prison" is Shui Ge's experience and should be written by him, then "The Island Dream" and "Game Shadows" are stories I wanted to write but haven't had the chance to. After all, it has only been a little over two months since I temporarily got rid of my ex-girlfriend, no, the clutches of the "time prisoner" Marilyn and started a peaceful life with Tang Shuang. At my writing speed of a thousand or two thousand words a day, how could I finish these two novels of over two hundred thousand words! Not to mention the publishing process after the novels are written.
"You'll know what's going on when you open the black box", Xiao Xi said to me before going downstairs. But is this a joke? I opened the black box, and now I have no idea what's going on; instead, I'm even more confused!
I suddenly stood up and paced anxiously around the bedroom; the black box and the novels on the floor were like dangerous reefs in the sea.
A series, five novels, all authored by me, Cai Bigui; yet, in my memory, I only wrote two of them. I suddenly stopped in my tracks, my temples throbbing painfully. Two names popped into my mind, Olanzapine and Risperidone, no, there were also Fluphenazine and Sulpiride.
Xiao Xi's voice echoed in my ear:
"Cai Bigui, you haven't taken your medicine for ten days."
"It's been six months without an episode, and suddenly..."
Before I realized it, my mouth opened and uttered a chilling sentence: "It's time to take the pills."