Translator: CinderTL
Ascending to the second floor, they faced a long corridor. Hanging from the ceiling were two crimson lanterns, their bright red glow like malevolent eyes fixed on any living person who approached.
Such large, red lanterns were rarely seen these days, and even when hung, they were usually placed outside the Gate.
This was the first time they had seen them hanging directly in a corridor inside a building. An unsettling feeling washed over them. Crimson tassels hung beneath the lanterns.
"What was that sound?" Huai Yi exclaimed, his voice low but unsettling.
The group held their breath. Then, a faint, ethereal song drifted from the end of the corridor.
Its melody was mournful, sorrowful, and heartbreaking—just hearing it brought tears to their eyes.
Chen Qiang's pupils suddenly constricted. This melody... it felt strangely familiar. He had heard it recently!
Yes... "Cherry Blossom Fall."
"It's that ghost song," Pi Ruan stammered, his body trembling uncontrollably. The recording of Na Ruhu's phone call had this song playing faintly in the background.
Later, they learned from Yangzi the name of the song and the story behind it.
Most importantly, they also learned about the Shinto shrine that stood in Yangzi's hometown.
The straw effigy they had obtained from the shrine seemed to have an intricate connection to the ghost involved in this supernatural event.
After a moment of thought, Luo He made a firm decision. "Let's be careful and go take a look."
"Go?" Huai Yi hesitated.
"What are you afraid of? If it's your time to die, there's no place to hide," Fu Fu said impatiently, then took the first step, walking deeper into the corridor.
With no other options, the others could only grit their teeth and follow.
As they passed the two large red lanterns, everyone instinctively sidestepped to avoid them, as if getting too close or touching them would trigger some unforeseen danger.
Beyond the lanterns, the corridor was lined with rooms that appeared to be the living quarters of the Feng family.
All the doors were closed. The dark wooden gates gave everyone an eerie feeling. Someone stopped to listen, but there was no sound from within—it was as if no one lived there at all.
What puzzled everyone was that each gate was adorned with a painting.
The paintings themselves seemed unremarkable—ordinary decorative pieces, far from valuable. In fact, they looked rather cheap, and their subjects were nothing out of the ordinary.
Yet, given the Feng Family's status, why would they hang such items on their bedroom gates?
This immediately piqued everyone's curiosity.
Meanwhile, the ethereal singing that had drifted from the end of the corridor gradually faded, until it was barely audible.
A sudden thought struck Huai Yi: perhaps the singing had been deliberately used to draw them in, to lure them up the stairs and into this place.
Though his instincts screamed danger ahead, he suppressed the urge to turn back.
Would retreating truly make them safer?
They were in a Nightmare, after all. Once they had chosen to enter, they had accepted the risk of being killed by a Ghost at any moment. Even if leaving now could save them from immediate danger, what about the next time?
According to the mission requirements, if they failed to complete their task and uncover the truth within seven days, they would all be executed by firing squad under Director Qiao's orders.
They walked slowly, stopping frequently. It was clear everyone was on edge. At the end of the corridor was a corner, and beyond that lay a room that was noticeably larger and more luxurious than the others.
To be precise, it was more like a master suite, its area easily three times that of a standard bedroom.
Everyone immediately assumed this was where someone of high status within the Feng Family resided—perhaps even Master Feng himself.
And the ethereal, haunting song they'd heard was emanating from this room.
Like the other rooms, this one had a decorative painting on its door, but because it was a solid wood double door, the painting was much larger.
As they were examining the painting, a sudden gust of wind blew from nowhere. The door trembled slightly, then, under their watchful gazes, slowly opened a crack.
To their surprise, a crimson light spilled through the gap, casting a blood-red line on the floor.
The most sensible thing to do would have been to peer inside and see what was happening, but the atmosphere had become so eerily tense that no one dared approach.
As they hesitated, a figure stepped forward. Luo He, holding the black-covered book in one hand, gently pushed the Gate open with the other.
Witnessing this, Huai Yi swallowed nervously, while Pi Ruan gaped silently, too terrified to utter a sound.
As the Gate slowly swung open, the room's interior came into view. The first thing that caught their eyes was an enormous bed facing the entrance.
Two thick red candles, as thick as arms, stood on either side of the headboard.
Their gaze shifted slightly, and they saw the quilt on the bed was raised, clearly indicating someone was lying beneath it.
Not just one person, but two.
However, from their angle, they couldn't see their faces.
Just as the hot-tempered Fu Fu was about to enter the room to investigate, a sudden "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
"Huu—"
Linghu Yong gasped for breath, staring at the thick, liquid-like fog outside with a strange expression.
He felt something was off, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Recalling what had happened earlier, he couldn't help but feel fortunate.
Not long ago, he had been jolted awake from a dream. When he woke up, he was alone in the room—well, that wasn't entirely accurate. The truth was, he was the only living person left breathing.
Zhao Xingguo was gone, leaving only Pan Du, who had stopped breathing and was nearly indistinguishable from a corpse, to keep him company.
This was too bizarre.
He immediately snapped to full alertness.
Just as Pan Du had analyzed earlier, he knew Zhao Xingguo wouldn't have abandoned him without a reason. Some danger must have arisen, and it was right here in their room.
Almost instantly, he turned his gaze to Pan Du, lying on the bed.
It's him!
Pan Du must have undergone some unknown transformation!
He couldn't stay in the room any longer. He had to leave. And he clearly remembered that although he had closed his eyes for a moment, he hadn't fallen asleep. This must be related to the Ghost.
Afraid of disturbing Pan Du, he crept out of the room. When he opened the door, his face drained of color. The doors to the other rooms were also open.
No one was inside.
(End of the Chapter)
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