Xiao Mi appeared in front of the two of them again, still holding that long knife. Her entire appearance was utterly ferocious.

However, Zhou Jiayu noticed that the few dark shadows that had been circling above her head were now gone. He wasn’t sure whether they had vanished or gone somewhere else.

“I’ll kill you! Kill you!!” Even though she saw Lin Zhushui, Xiao Mi clearly didn’t take him seriously. When she noticed Zhou Jiayu standing there without running, she raised her knife and charged straight at them.

Although Zhou Jiayu had complete confidence in Lin Zhushui, he couldn’t help feeling a little anxious at this scene. He said, “Sir, she’s incredibly strong.”

“Mm.” Lin Zhushui responded indifferently. With a casual wave of his hand, a wall of flames rose up before them. Because of her momentum, Xiao Mi couldn’t stop in time and plunged straight into the fire.

“Ahhh!!!” A miserable shriek burst out. The flames clung to her body and began to burn fiercely.

But strangely, Xiao Mi’s body showed no signs of change—the fire didn’t seem to burn her flesh but rather her soul.

“Ahhhh—” At first, Xiao Mi’s screams were shrill and pitiful, but gradually they weakened, until finally they fell completely silent. Her body, which had been rolling on the ground, also stopped moving.

Zhou Jiayu was just about to ask if she was dead when he saw Xiao Mi’s body suddenly begin to shrivel rapidly, as if all the moisture had been sucked out. In just moments, she turned into a dried skeleton.

“This…” Zhou Jiayu was startled.

“She must’ve been dead long ago,” Lin Zhushui said. “Let’s head downstairs first.”

Zhou Jiayu agreed.

This time, Lin Zhushui took Zhou Jiayu straight down to the third floor by elevator from the twentieth floor.

Xu Jian was still waiting for them in the conference room. Shen Yiqiong was also inside, sitting beside four trembling people—the other four who had been playing the game with them. It seemed that while they were busy upstairs, Shen Yiqiong had already gathered the remaining players.

Seeing Zhou Jiayu and Lin Zhushui enter the room, Shen Yiqiong’s face lit up with joy. “You’re back!”

Lin Zhushui nodded and casually pulled a small cloth pouch from his pocket. He tossed it onto the table and said, “They’re all here.”

Xu Jian picked up the pouch and poured out dozens of thumb-sized wooden plaques. Standing close by, Zhou Jiayu clearly saw that each plaque had a person’s name written on it.

Xu Jian counted them. “Sixty-nine, no mistake.”

“Burn them?” Lin Zhushui asked.

“Alright,” Xu Jian replied.

As soon as the words fell, the wooden plaques ignited on their own. Zhou Jiayu could faintly hear low, sorrowful cries coming from within the flames—as if what was burning wasn’t wood, but bound souls.

“That Xiao Mi didn’t have any problems when she first played the game.” Xu Jian sighed softly as he watched the burning plaques. “But later, something must have gone wrong. She got targeted by something filthy.”

“She made a contract with that thing?” Zhou Jiayu asked.

“Yes,” Xu Jian replied. “It probably demanded that she keep playing. But during the game, any failure meant she had to pay with the life of a sacrifice. So Xiao Mi found two groups of people—one to cover for her by appearing in the livestream, and another to be secretly sacrificed.”

“And these people here…?” Zhou Jiayu looked at the spirits in the room. After the plaques burned to ash, they began to fade, looking as if they would soon disappear.

“They were tricked into signing a contract by Xiao Mi too,” Xu Jian said. “But this is better than losing their lives. Burning the contract plaques should free them.”

“True,” Zhou Jiayu agreed.

“Let’s go,” Lin Zhushui said.

As he spoke, he pulled out a talisman and burned it. The ashes swirled in the air, forming the shape of a door filled with mist, its end unseen. Lin Zhushui gestured, signaling for them to go first.

The four players, who had been dragged into this mess, entered the door one by one. Their expressions were dazed, as if wondering if they were dreaming.

Zhou Jiayu stepped through the door. His vision went black—he could see nothing, hear nothing. His body felt as if it were floating upward from underwater, as if something was lifting him higher and higher until he finally broke the surface…

“Cough, cough, cough…” As consciousness returned, Zhou Jiayu coughed hard. He slowly opened his eyes and found himself lying on the ground, with the other players sprawled nearby.

They were also just waking up, coughing as much as he was.

“Sob… I’m never playing these kinds of games again…” As everyone slowly recovered, sorrow filled the room. One girl wiped away tears, sobbing that she’d trust science from now on and never fool around with superstitions again. The boys beside her nodded solemnly, all still shaken.

Shen Yiqiong woke up a bit later than Zhou Jiayu. When he opened his eyes and saw Zhou Jiayu, he coughed a few times and called out, “Guan’er…”

“You’re awake, Hei-Zi,” Zhou Jiayu replied.

Shen Yiqiong sat up, glancing around. “Where’s Xiao Mi?”

“Looks like she’s gone…” Zhou Jiayu said.

Just as they were thinking about it, the door creaked open. Everyone instinctively tensed, but thankfully it was Lin Zhushui who entered—not something strange.

“Let’s go,” Lin Zhushui said calmly. “Why are you all still lying on the floor?”

The six young people scrambled to their feet, sniffling and wiping away tears as they headed out. As they passed the hotel lobby, the front desk clerk gave them odd looks, probably forming some strange assumptions about what had happened.

Once outside, Zhou Jiayu helped the four players hail rides and send them off before he went to meet up with Lin Jue and Xu Ruwang.

When they reunited, Xu Ruwang told them the hospital had called to report that Xu Jian had woken up. He also asked if everything had gone smoothly.

Zhou Jiayu recounted what had happened in the game, including how Xiao Mi had turned bald and chased them with a knife for several floors.

Shen Yiqiong still looked drained. He muttered weakly, “Maybe combat strength is inversely proportional to hair quantity…”

Xu Ruwang said, “…My hair’s grown back, you can’t insult me anymore.”

Shen Yiqiong sighed regretfully.

“What about the mastermind?” Lin Jue asked. “Did he get away?”

Lin Zhushui responded with a soft “Mm.” “We could have kept him, but if we had, those sixty-odd young people in that room couldn’t have been saved.”

Lin Jue frowned at that and sighed softly. “So be it. You can’t have everything.”

Lin Zhushui said, “We’ll settle the rest of this matter later.”

The endgame probably meant that Lin Zhushui planned to wipe all those people out in one go. As for how he would find them, no one knew—but since it was Lin Zhushui, if he had made up his mind to act, he must’ve had his own ways.

After the group left the hotel, they went straight to the hospital to check on Xu Jian’s condition.

When they reached the ward, Zhou Jiayu saw that Xu Jian was indeed awake, sitting up on the hospital bed and resting. Several people were seated beside him, who seemed to be members of the Xu clan.

“Master.” Xu Ruwang looked quite excited as he rushed to his side. “You’re okay, right?”

Xu Jian nodded. His face showed the pallor of someone recovering from a serious illness. Clearly, having one’s soul forcibly separated from the body was something that would leave anyone gravely weakened. “I’m fine,” he replied.

Xu Ruwang finally let out a breath of relief.

“Mr. Lin, thank you for this time.” Back in the spirit realm, Xu Jian and Lin Zhushui had acted as if they were old acquaintances, but now that he was awake, his proud and aloof attitude had returned. “Our Xu family owes you a favor, sir,” he said, lifting his chin slightly with a reluctant expression as if to say ‘Hmph, I never asked you to save me, but since you did, I’ll grudgingly repay you.’

Xu Ruwang felt both amused and helpless. “Master, Mr. Lin went to great lengths this time. I made a promise to him on your behalf that if he saved you, our Xu family would grant him three favors.”

Zhou Jiayu had thought that Xu Jian would pretend to be upset about this arrangement, but to his surprise, Xu Jian merely sighed and cupped his fists toward Lin Zhushui. Words like ‘thank you’ seemed too shallow to express such a debt.

“You all leave first. I have something to discuss with Mr. Lin alone,” Xu Jian said.

Hearing this, everyone prepared to step outside. Before leaving, Lin Jue looked back worriedly and reminded him, “Zhushui, mind what you say. He’s still a patient. If you anger him into a relapse, won’t all your efforts be wasted?”

Lin Zhushui responded flatly with a quiet “mm.”

Xu Jian snorted. “I’ll get upset because of him? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lin Zhushui said nothing. But no sooner had Zhou Jiayu and the others left the room and started down the corridor than they heard Xu Jian’s furious roar from inside: “Lin Zhushui, what the hell did you just say?! Who are you calling inferior?! I’ll tell you—”

Zhou Jiayu didn’t hear the rest, because Xu Ruwang hurriedly dragged them away.

The four of them stood outside the hospital, all letting out a sigh of relief now that the matter was settled.

Zhou Jiayu asked Xu Ruwang for a cigarette, lit it, and stuck it between his lips. “Where are we going now?”

Xu Ruwang suggested, “How about some late-night snacks?”

“No, no, no.” Shen Yiqiong shook his head like mad. “Whenever Guan’er eats late at night, something happens. It’s foolproof—always.”

“Really?” Lin Jue was skeptical. “Is that even possible?”

Shen Yiqiong gave a few examples—from food poisoning by mushrooms to nearly being tricked into marrying a ghost bride. The number of accidents caused by late-night snacking could fill a horror story.

Unfortunately, the more he explained, the more interested Lin Jue became. She rolled up her sleeves. “You make me want to try now.”

“I want to see what happens too,” Xu Ruwang chimed in.

Shen Yiqiong gaped. “You guys are nuts! Why would you want to test that?”

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s get hotpot. Is there a place open now? I suddenly want hotpot,” Lin Jue said.

Xu Ruwang happily told them he knew of a 24-hour hotpot place nearby. It would take about half an hour to get there by car, and he asked if they should call Lin Zhushui along.

“Forget him—he doesn’t like eating out anyway.” Lin Jue waved her hand, sealing the decision.

Zhou Jiayu hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise this whole time. Seeing that they were all getting in the car, he couldn’t help but protest: “Hey—are you guys not going to ask the actual person involved for his opinion?”

“Oh? Got something to say?” Xu Ruwang turned to him.

Zhou Jiayu had always thought Shen Yiqiong’s belief about late-night snacking was pure superstition, scientifically baseless. But somehow, when it came time to really do it, he felt a little uneasy. “I’m kind of tired… Can I not go?”

Xu Ruwang saw right through him. “We’ll eat. You can nap on the side.”

Shen Yiqiong and Lin Jue both nodded.

Zhou Jiayu: “…Are you guys even human? You’re devils, I swear.”

So, unwillingly, Zhou Jiayu was forced into the car, slumping weakly in the backseat.

Lin Jue laughed at the sight of him. “Ah, Guan’er, don’t make that face—you haven’t even taken off your makeup. You look like such an idiot.”

At her words, Zhou Jiayu suddenly remembered something. “Wait—wait! Yiqiong, when we were running from that Xiao Mi ghost in the building… I still looked like this?”

Shen Yiqiong didn’t get why Zhou Jiayu asked, but nodded.

Zhou Jiayu: “…” He covered his face in despair.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Yiqiong asked, confused.

Zhou Jiayu muttered, “Nothing…” He didn’t want to talk anymore. The first time he and Lin Zhushui had been this close, he’d looked like an utter fool. Even he thought he must’ve looked ridiculous—how generous of Lin Zhushui not to laugh at him outright…

Romance didn’t exist. Zhou Jiayu could already picture how he must’ve looked in Lin Zhushui’s eyes: a grinning idiot, probably about to drool and needing a handkerchief to wipe his mouth.

Limp in the backseat, Zhou Jiayu gave up on everything—not caring about late-night snacks or anything else.

The other three in the car exchanged confused glances. Zhou Jiayu looked like a deflated plastic doll—his entire being radiating despair.

“Maybe he’s just hungry,” Shen Yiqiong said, watching Zhou Jiayu with motherly concern. “A little hotpot will cheer him up.”

It was 4 AM—the quietest time in the whole city, with over two hours left until sunrise.

They reached the hotpot place Xu Ruwang had mentioned and were surprised to find two other tables of customers there.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones with unfinished business,” Xu Ruwang remarked. They went upstairs to a private room and started ordering.

Red soup, mildly spicy, beef tallow hotpot. They also got a case of beer and vowed not to leave until they were drunk.

Zhou Jiayu lay limp in his chair like a deflated leather ball. Shen Yiqiong went over and hoisted him up. “Guan’er, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing… just… forget it,” Zhou Jiayu mumbled.

The other three exchanged glances.

Shen Yiqiong scratched his head and laughed. “Zhou Jiayu, you look just like a love-struck maiden right now.”

Zhou Jiayu: “…”

Shen Yiqiong burst out laughing.

Annoyed, Zhou Jiayu shot back: “Shen Yiqiong, were you seriously not a virgin at fourteen?”

Shen Yiqiong: “…”

Xu Ruwang gasped. Lin Jue raised her brow. “Yiqiong—fourteen?”

Shen Yiqiong said nothing.

“I do recall you were in school at that age,” Lin Jue mused, propping her chin and taking a sip of beer. “But I also remember—it was an all-boys middle school, wasn’t it…”

Shen Yiqiong’s face turned bright red.

Zhou Jiayu deliberately raised his voice: “Shen Yiqiong, you liar!”

Shen Yiqiong gaped. “Why are you ruining my reputation… Being a feng shui master isn’t the same, you know.” Then came a stream of incomprehensible excuses about spring dreams and thinking of pretty girls daily, which made everyone burst into laughter. For a while, the hotpot restaurant was filled with joyous chatter.

As Lin Jue mercilessly exposed Shen Yiqiong’s lies, the conversation grew even livelier. One bottle of beer after another was emptied. Zhou Jiayu drank three or four bottles and started feeling dizzy.

Xu Ruwang and Lin Jue were playing finger-guessing games. Shen Yiqiong poured drinks on the side. “Xu Ruwang, you lost—drink, drink, drink!”

Xu Ruwang had a great tolerance, downing the whole cup in one gulp.

“Bold!” Lin Jue praised, turning to the nearly slumped Zhou Jiayu. “Guan’er, your alcohol tolerance’s really this bad?”

Zhou Jiayu shook his head, face down on the table, mumbling, “I—I’m going to the restroom…” He stumbled up and groped his way toward the bathroom.

After relieving himself and splashing cold water on his face, Zhou Jiayu finally felt a bit clearer.

He rubbed his eyes, pulled out a tissue from his pocket to dry his face, and slowly walked out of the restroom. But the moment he turned the corner and glimpsed into their private room, the drunken haze vanished instantly. A cold sweat broke out along his back.

The private room, which should have been occupied by several people, was completely empty. The pot in the center of the table was also cold and barren, showing no signs of having been used.

Zhou Jiayu softly called out the names of his friends, but received no response.

“Where are they?” Seeing the scene before him, Zhou Jiayu immediately thought of what Shen Yiqiong had said earlier—that he absolutely must not have supper.

“I don’t know,” Ji Ba replied. “Why don’t you check if anyone else is still in the restaurant?”

Zhou Jiayu agreed.

Because they had eaten so late and chosen a private room on the second floor, they had barely seen the waitstaff apart from when the food was served. Zhou Jiayu hurried down the stairs and glanced toward the front desk near the exit. His heart relaxed a little. There was someone at the reception—a long-haired girl sitting there, seemingly dozing off.

Zhou Jiayu walked over and said, “Miss…” But the words caught in his throat because the girl slowly lifted her head, and what should have been her face was completely covered by black hair.

A chill ran down Zhou Jiayu’s spine. Goosebumps rose all over him as he instinctively turned to run—only to be met with loud laughter. He turned his head and saw Shen Yiqiong and Xu Ruwang standing beside him, laughing heartily. The “faceless” girl at the front desk yanked off the wig covering her face, revealing Lin Jue underneath. “Hahahahaha! Guan’er, were you scared?”

Zhou Jiayu was stunned. “You guys did that on purpose?!”

“We just wanted to surprise you,” Xu Ruwang said as he slowly walked toward Zhou Jiayu. “Was it fun?”

“Scaring people can kill them, you know! What’s so happy about that kind of surprise…”

Xu Ruwang chuckled. “Looks like you were really spooked. Come on, let’s head back.”

Zhou Jiayu sighed helplessly and was about to follow Xu Ruwang when he suddenly felt a heavy slap on his back. The force made him stagger a few steps.

“What the hell?” Zhou Jiayu turned around in confusion—only to see Xu Ruwang standing behind him, not in front of him where he had just been.

“Who were you talking to just now?” Xu Ruwang asked, his expression odd.

“I…” Zhou Jiayu suddenly felt dizzy. He shook his head hard. “I was…” The scene around him twisted and blurred. When he came to his senses again, he realized he was still standing in the second-floor bathroom. Everything that had just happened on the first floor seemed like a hallucination.

“I… I think I drank too much.” Zhou Jiayu wasn’t sure whether he was drunk or had encountered something supernatural. “Are they still eating?”

“Yeah,” Xu Ruwang said. “When you didn’t come back, they got worried you were in trouble and sent me to check on you. And here you are, standing in front of the mirror, zoning out.”

Hearing this, Zhou Jiayu glanced into the mirror and clearly saw both his own and Xu Ruwang’s reflections.

“Oh,” Zhou Jiayu muttered. “Maybe I really did drink too much.”

Xu Ruwang smiled. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and handed it to Zhou Jiayu. “Want one to clear your head?”

Zhou Jiayu took it without hesitation and put it between his lips. He was just about to ask Xu Ruwang for a lighter when Xu Ruwang leaned in, lighting Zhou Jiayu’s cigarette with his own already-burning one.

Their faces were suddenly very close, and the atmosphere turned ambiguous. Zhou Jiayu instinctively stepped back, feeling a little uneasy. “Let’s go back.”

Xu Ruwang didn’t answer. He exhaled a puff of white smoke and said softly, “Zhou Jiayu… you really like him?”

Zhou Jiayu hesitated for a moment and then gave a quiet “Mm.”

Xu Ruwang sighed. “Why bother?”

Zhou Jiayu swallowed hard, uncertain what Xu Ruwang meant by “why bother.”

“Mr. Lin is not someone you can easily be with,” Xu Ruwang said, voicing the very worries that plagued Zhou Jiayu. “If he knew how you felt about him…”

Zhou Jiayu’s alcohol-clouded mind grew even more muddled as he listened. “I—I wasn’t planning to let him know. You mustn’t tell him.”

Xu Ruwang said, “He’s so sharp. How long do you think you can keep it from him?”

Zhou Jiayu pressed his lips together, for the first time showing a stubborn expression in front of Xu Ruwang. In Xu Ruwang’s memory, Zhou Jiayu had always been gentle and soft—never this determined. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I just… I won’t give up on my own.”

Xu Ruwang said, “Then why not consider me?”

“…You?” Zhou Jiayu blinked.

Xu Ruwang nodded. “I think we’re a good match.” His gaze was steady and serious.

But this seriousness gave Zhou Jiayu a suffocating feeling. He stepped back again. “Xu Ruwang, I’m sorry. There’s no way between us.”

Xu Ruwang pressed him. “Why not? We get along so well.”

Zhou Jiayu no longer wanted to continue this conversation. “Don’t say that. They’re waiting for me—I’m going back.” He stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it in the trash, brushing past Xu Ruwang without looking back.

Just as he reached the door, he heard Xu Ruwang give a bitter laugh. “Yeah… only he can protect you.”

Zhou Jiayu felt complicated inside. He hadn’t expected Xu Ruwang to have feelings for him too. Maybe if he hadn’t met Lin Zhushui, he would’ve considered giving it a try—but now his heart was completely taken by Lin Zhushui. To settle for less would hurt not only himself but also Xu Ruwang.

__

Author’s note:
Zhou Jiayu: Sir, someone’s trying to steal your man.

Lin Zhushui: I’ll shave his head.

Xu Ruwang: You damn lovebirds!!