She Qulin and two other players stood at the fifth-floor stairway, listening to a quarrel between two players. They were having a disagreement about whether or not to “flatter” Tang Yu.
“That vase NPC already gave us all the clues, what’s the point of sucking up now? We need to race against time to finish the mission. We can’t waste our valuable time on some decorative NPC. Only by gaining an early advantage in this first test can we stay ahead of later players!”
“But he gave the Shen Junxing clue. What if we can trigger a dungeon clue from him?”
Hearing this, She Qulin lightly shook his head.
“See? Even She Qulin doesn’t agree!”
With two against one, the player who wanted to try interacting with Tang Yu broke away from the team and headed up the stairs alone. The very next second, he vanished right before She Qulin and the other player’s eyes—as if he had evaporated into thin air.
“Did he just get pulled directly into the dungeon?” the other player exclaimed. “Only one option? Just stepping onto the fifth floor forces you in? Then we won’t be able to explore the sixth floor!”
Players could choose not to explore, but the game wouldn’t let them avoid going to the sixth floor altogether.
She Qulin, however, didn’t show the same frustration as his teammate. His expression was calm, as if he had expected it.
In truth, his initial headshake wasn’t rejecting the plan to approach Tang Yu. From the beginning, he had tried twice to interact with Tang Yu, but both attempts had ended in rejection. Afterward, some force within the game forcibly pulled him away.
Those who understood the game would know that it was just the setting—the game didn’t want Tang Yu, a clue-type NPC, to reveal the main storyline so early. But to someone who didn’t know, it would seem like there was some invisible force watching over Tang Yu, never letting anyone get close.
The watchfulness was so tight, it was like guarding a precious treasure.
Annoyed by his own strange theory, She Qulin shook his head again. Urged by his teammate, he stepped onto the stairs to the fifth floor. Instantly, a chilling sensation swept over him, and the staircase ahead smoothed out, transforming into a long corridor.
His teammate raised a flashlight, as Yan Lang had recommended. Under the beam of light, She Qulin squinted and could vaguely make out something red at the far end of the corridor.
“Huh? No paper effigy?” the teammate muttered in confusion.
She Qulin also took out his flashlight and scanned all directions, including overhead, but found nothing unusual. Calmly, he said, “I’ll watch the front, you cover the rear. We move one behind the other.”
With their roles assigned, both players walked forward with great caution—after all, this dungeon could only be attempted once a day.
The hallway was eerily silent, broken only by the soft sound of their footsteps.
Suddenly, a soft rustling echoed again. A sheet of yellow paper floated out of the darkness, gently drifting into She Qulin’s line of sight.
Instinctively, he took a quick step back. Thud! His back collided solidly with another.
In that instant of back-to-back contact, She Qulin tensed completely. He turned his head and came face to face with a player whose forehead had a yellow talisman stuck on it.
“Look what I caught?” the teammate cheerfully peeled off the yellow paper from his forehead. “It’s the item that floated up from behind—I caught it face-first.”
She Qulin’s eyes fell on the yellow paper. “It’s joss paper.”
The teammate rubbed his ear and suddenly perked up. “This game finally added background music?!”
“What?” She Qulin frowned slightly.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t you hear crying?” The teammate, seeing She Qulin’s expression, seemed to realize something was off. “Wait… there’s someone crying near my ear.”
The surroundings were deathly silent—not even the rustling remained. She Qulin shook his head.
The teammate instantly threw the joss paper away, but the sobbing still echoed intermittently in his ears.
“…Fine then.” The teammate shrugged and picked the yellow paper back up.
It might come in handy later!
“Let’s switch positions,” She Qulin suddenly said.
“Sure.” The teammate casually agreed and swapped places with She Qulin.
This time, the teammate strode forward carelessly, while She Qulin, who was supposed to be walking back-to-back with him, instead walked slowly, quietly facing his teammate’s back.
The joss paper was definitely suspicious.
Right now, he couldn’t confirm whether the teammate was still himself—after all, Yan Lang’s post had mentioned that in the looping stairwell, the “teammate’s” voice he heard was actually a ghost’s.
“Wuuu…” A muffled sob suddenly crept right into She Qulin’s ear. It was soft, like it was afraid of being heard.
She Qulin’s pupils contracted. He shone the flashlight all over his body and, when he looked back, caught a glimpse of yellow on his shoulder—somehow, a sheet of joss paper had been stuck to him.
“Wuuu…” The sobbing was heartbreakingly mournful, and strangely familiar.
He turned back again and was met with a face smiling eerily under the pale light. “You heard it too.”
She Qulin gripped the knife in his hand without expression.
“I’m not a monster!” The teammate grinned and moved the flashlight away from under his chin. “Just kidding!”
She Qulin slowly raised his knife.
“Hey hey hey—I was really just kidding! Look at my status panel!!” The teammate’s grin instantly vanished. He had no desire to be killed by She Qulin and abruptly end his run. As he fumbled to explain, She Qulin didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the knife and, to his teammate’s stunned expression, plunged the blade into his ear.
The sharp fruit knife slowly spun in a circle, and blood trickled down the side of She Qulin’s face.
“Even if you go deaf, the sound will still continue,” She Qulin said calmly.
The usually joking teammate opened his mouth but, for once, couldn’t say a word.
For the rest of the hallway, they walked in silence until they reached the end, where the red ahead gradually resolved into the outline of a house.
She Qulin stopped, raising his head to look at the strange house that clashed harshly with the surroundings.
It was a two-story villa, with bright blue painted shingles and vivid red walls. Two white lanterns hung at the entrance, and the door bore the words: “Yin and Yang share the sun and moon; Heaven and Earth hold the cosmos.”
The whole structure felt thin and unreal, like something that didn’t belong in the real world—
It was a spirit house.
A spirit house of immense proportions.
She Qulin walked up to it. The weightless door gave way with ease, as if he were pushing through air.
In that moment, countless rustling sounds surged out. Paper money laced with flames poured through the door’s gap, drifting outwards. Flaming joss paper floated down in front of She Qulin—this was a world made of burning paper.
The teammate who had stashed joss paper in his pocket looked down in panic, only to see flames erupt at his side. In an instant, fire devoured him whole, turning him into a man ablaze.
Flames also reached She Qulin’s shoulder. Crimson tongues of fire licked into his field of vision.
At the brink of death, She Qulin suddenly realized why that sound by his ear had seemed so familiar.
That crying voice… sounded like Tang Yu.
***
Tang Yu tossed the last stack of joss paper into the brazier. He sniffed softly, watching the flames lick at the paper.
Amid the scattering ashes, he noticed what looked like two tiny paper effigies.
Perhaps his senior had accidentally included them while collecting the joss paper. Tang Yu hadn’t paid attention to such details at the time. Now, as he looked again, the paper effigies were already consumed by flame, leaving only a pile of ash.
Once all the paper had burned, a quiet sorrowful calm settled over Tang Yu’s heart.
He sat silently on the cold balcony, pressing the back of his hand to his tear-reddened eyelids. After wiping away the lingering moisture, he stood up, opened the balcony door, and returned to the dorm.
In the darkness, the candle by his senior’s bed was still burning. The two paper effigies stood silently. Tang Yu softly said, “Thank you, Senior.”
Li Sheng didn’t respond.
Tang Yu said goodnight and climbed into his own bunk.
The day had been emotionally exhausting and physically draining. Tang Yu fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
He slept deeply.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out when he suddenly opened his eyes in the dark. Groggy, he climbed down the ladder and reached barefoot for his slippers.
Still half-asleep, he squinted, using the dim light of his phone to find the way to the bathroom.
At the door, he reached out to flick on the light, but no light came through the gap.
Tang Yu, still holding his phone, pushed the bathroom door open.
The faint screen light illuminated a pair of black-and-white mismatched shoes.
Following the shoes upward, he saw silver silk trousers embroidered with dark patterns. Above that, long black hair spilled over a silver top. Li Sheng stood in front of the mirror, back to Tang Yu, slowly combing his hair. The comb slid from crown to tip with a soft sha-sha sound.
“Ah, Senior, you’re not asleep either…” Tang Yu greeted.
Li Sheng remained silent, raising his hand once more. The comb landed at the top of his head.
Tang Yu, still drowsy, squinted at him—but in the next second, his eyes flew wide open.
Because the senior in the mirror also had long black hair.
But there was no face.
His chest rose and fell sharply. His brows furrowed. His eyes darted beneath his trembling lids—
Tang Yu jolted awake in bed.
A deafening heartbeat pounded in his ears as he gasped in shock.
…Just a nightmare, he thought.
But then, the familiar rustling sound came again.
Tang Yu froze. His blue eyes shifted leftward. A faint glow blurred the darkness, illuminating Li Sheng’s bed.
The candle was still lit. The two paper effigies still cast shadows on the curtain.
But this time, a third figure sat between them.
That figure held what looked like a comb, resting it on the top of its head.
“Sha—” The sound of combing stretched eerily long.
A spine-chilling sensation exploded from the top of Tang Yu’s skull, brushing down his spine like the teeth of a comb.
Then, the combing stopped.
Behind the curtain, the two paper effigies smiled and said: “He saw it!”
