Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 56: The Eye at the Zenith

Just before entering the casino, Jia Xu glanced back at Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu was missing an arm and a leg, looking like a withered sapling on the verge of death. What a shame, Jia Xu thought. This might be the last time they saw each other.

He’d heard bits and pieces about the so-called “Emergency Exit” from various people, mostly those trying to cozy up to him.

Once you went in, you were inevitably separated and forced to face all kinds of suffering and inner demons alone. The space was vast, impossible to fully explore.

Each person’s illusion was different, with no discernible pattern. So far, no one had solved the mystery of the “Emergency Exit”.

It was only the third night. Someone as weak as Fang Xiu had no chance.

Jia Xu had hoped Fang Xiu would recognize the reality of the situation, but the guy was even prouder than he’d imagined.

Back at his company, Jia Xu had dealt with similarly stubborn talents. The ending was always the same… He fired them.

Skill without flexibility leads nowhere.

Jia Xu stepped into the gates of Huanxi World and took a deep breath of the casino air. It smelled faintly of perfume. Blinding lights washed over him like spotlights on a stage.

At this point, Jia Xu no longer wanted to dispel the E.

His relationship with his parents was lukewarm at best. He had no family of his own. As for friends… well, they were all fair-weather drinking buddies anyway.

So why not stay? Most people spent their lives chasing physical desires and mental satisfaction.

At first, he’d been reluctant to give up his flashy job. Now he found he could feel just as fulfilled here.

The looks people gave him, men and women alike, were full of flattery. Whether they had once been celebrities or industry moguls, they now flocked around him as if he were the very hand of fate.

They offered him their bodies, their connections, all kinds of generous promises…just for a taste of his good fortune. And whether or not they got it was entirely up to Jia Xu.

On top of that, the Luck Borrowing Dice was strongly bound to him by the Underworld. With Uncle Hou guaranteeing his safety, he had nothing to worry about.

He was lucky. He had never felt so lucky in his life.

So the losses yesterday? Just standard statistical variance.

…What should he play today?

Jia Xu wrapped his arm around a curvy D-list actress and strolled through the casino like a king inspecting his domain.

Then he spotted Guan He loitering near the service desk.

Guan He was clearly overwhelmed by the curvy, scantily dressed female attendants. His face was beet red, and he stared intently at the tips of his shoes.

Jia Xu raised an eyebrow. “You’re not with Fang Xiu?”

Guan He jumped like a startled cat. “N-No. I’m not.”

“Fang Ge didn’t really explain anything this time, and he seemed… weird. I got worried, but he told me to come here and cash out my chips…”

“Looks like he’s lost confidence.” Jia Xu sighed.

Then he bent his knuckles and rapped the counter with practiced ease. “Hey, help my friend here exchange some chips.”

The lady at the counter smiled sweetly. “What kind of exchange, young man?”

“Blood debt,” Guan He muttered, lowering his head even further.

“All right. Please wait a moment.”

The attendant pulled out a bizarre-looking touchscreen. “Please press your full palm here to authorize us to process your karma.”

Thinking of the Huanxi E’s true form made Guan He uncomfortable.

Jia Xu, mistaking his hesitation, chuckled. “What are you scared of? It doesn’t bite.”

Guan He: “…Mm.”

He pressed his hand down reluctantly. The attendant’s smile instantly turned more seductive.

“Blood debt successfully exchanged.”

“From now on, your karmic case will circulate across the mortal internet, drawing massive attention. Huanxi World will also broadcast your story of life’s karma. Thank you for bringing joy to everyone’s lives!”

She pressed a gleaming pile of 1,000 gold chips onto the counter.

The number “1000” blinked cheerfully on the surface, like an innocent child.

At the same time, joyful music played, and a giant screen above the counter flickered on.

It began playing the night of Guan He’s car crash, from his first-person perspective. Even more terrifying, it displayed his thoughts from that moment as narration.

Crowds quickly gathered to watch the drama unfold on the big screen.

Guan He knew that, in most people’s eyes, his blood debt wasn’t even that bad.

But the moment he saw that familiar nightscape, he slammed his eyes shut, covered his ears, and crouched to the ground.

He had never understood why the Huanxi E insisted on making blood debts public. But in this moment, he understood its purpose: To crush any lingering hope of returning to the human world.

His blood debt might’ve been one of the easiest to forgive, but knowing that his darkest memories were now going viral…

For a second, even he didn’t want to go back.

He couldn’t imagine the look on his mother’s face.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that until Jia Xu finally pulled him up. “All right, all right, it’s over. Come on, it wasn’t that bad. Look at you, shaking like a leaf.”

Blondie had sidled up and slapped him playfully. “Don’t be such a wimp.”

Jia Xu: “1,000 chips is plenty. Today I’ll show you around. If we win big, I’ll take you out tonight for some real fun.”

Guan He frowned. “…I’m not even an adult yet.”

Jia Xu laughed. “Back in ancient times, people were dads at 14 or 15. You’re 16, practically grown. I know high schoolers who are wild already. No need to play innocent here.”

“The ladies here are very attentive. You’ll never want to leave,” Blondie added with a leer.

Guan He felt sick. He pulled his arm out of Jia Xu’s grip. “I already told Xiao Tian I’d stick with her tonight.”

Blondie: “Oho, got a crush on the older chick, huh?”

Jia Xu thought for a moment. “That Xiao Tian with the ‘luck enhancement’?”

“Yes, we planned this ahead of time. I want to clear my head tonight.” Guan He took a step back and blurted it all out in one breath.

Jia Xu didn’t press. He waved generously. “Go, go. When you figure things out, come find me.”

But Guan He didn’t leave right away. He took a few deep breaths. “Aren’t you worried about Fang Ge? He got us through two rituals.”

“Our paths diverged. Besides, I already invited him. I’ve done my part.”

“You’re young. It’s normal that you can’t see the bigger picture. Even without us, Fang Xiu would’ve challenged the rituals. At the end of the day, he’s doing it for himself.”

Guan He: “Then he didn’t have to bring you guys!”

“It’s easier to work with a team. Of course he wanted to preserve numbers. Fang Xiu didn’t dispel the E all by himself. Everyone contributed. Don’t be so naive.”

Jia Xu lit a cigarette, voice turning philosophical. “Right now, your presence here is useless to me. What I’m doing is ‘simply helping you’.”

Guan He didn’t know what to say. He felt something was wrong but couldn’t argue back.

So he turned and walked away.

Blondie: “Whew, fiery little guy. You still care about that kid, Jia Ge?”

“Sure. Once Fang Xiu dies, he’ll know who’s right.” Jia Xu said casually.

Compared to wiping out Fang Xiu’s team, recruiting his pawn would be a more complete victory.

“…Come on, let’s go play a few rounds.”

Elsewhere in the casino.

Guan He found Xiao Tian while cursing under his breath.

The mushroom trio had already spent their chips on even-odd bets and had only 8 left between them.

After Guan He joined them, Xiao Tian stared blankly at her new pile of gold chips.

Guan He’s 1,000 chips, plus the 35 mysterious ones Fang Xiu gave her, plus their group’s last 5 survival chips…

She now held 1,040 chips.

…She’d never seen so many chips in her life!

Xiao Tian gulped. “Are we… really gonna gamble?”

Guan He: “It’s not gambling.”

Xiao Tian nervously let out an “oh.”

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t gambling.

According to Fang Xiu’s instructions, Xiao Tian had to follow Jia Xu, join one of his games, and bet 1 chip that was never the same result as Jia Xu.

This wasn’t betting; it was sabotage. Jia Xu had to actively use the Luck Borrowing Die while Xiao Tian’s “luck enhancement” was a passive skill supported by the Underworld.

Jia Xu had flaunted his power yesterday with a roulette win using the die, then lost several poker games. Even so, he still had 8,320 chips. Xiao Tian felt like she was bringing a pebble to crush a mountain.

What was Fang Xiu thinking? Sabotaging his own teammates had nothing to do with dispelling the E, right?

She didn’t know how this would turn the casino upside down.

But hey, Captain Song had already promised himself away. She had no room to object.

So Comrade Xiao Tian removed her jacket, let down her ponytail, grabbed a sparkly masquerade eye patch from the lounge, painted on a bright red lip, and transformed from a dried mushroom into a dazzling fly agaric.

The three mushroom men crouched in the greenery nearby to keep watch.

“Mission start!” Xiao Tian made a serious hand signal and strutted toward Jia Xu.

……

Emergency Exit.

The karmic thread glowed blood-red, leading upward into the darkness. Bai Shuangying guided it while Cheng Songyun supported Fang Xi as the three made their way up the stairs.

Though the thread showed the right path, it couldn’t break through illusions. So their pace remained slow.

They had been walking for three and a half hours. Fang Xiu had listened to Cheng Songyun’s nonstop nagging for three of them; all on the theme of “Fang Xiu, you’re too skinny, that’s not good.”

Fang Xiu, exasperated, swore for the hundredth time. “Got it, Cheng Jie. I’ll eat properly when we get back.”

Since resolving her karma, Cheng Songyun’s mood had improved, but it was like she’d unlocked a whole new seal.

“Eating well isn’t enough. You have to eat more meat! Weak bodies get sick easier. These days, even a cold is dangerous. Skinny people have low resistance…”

“My daughter went through a phase of dieting, and she looked scary thin. You need to be healthy…”

Fang Xiu: “…”

He looked pleadingly at Bai Shuangying.

Bai Shuangying ignored him.

Fang Xiu whispered, “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have called you the ghost matchmaker.”

Bai Shuangying turned his head away, still ignoring him.

Fang Xiu sighed. His ghost could really hold a grudge.

A few hours ago, right after entering the Emergency Exit, Cheng Songyun had asked, “Why can a ghost like you see karma?”

Fang Xiu didn’t know Bai Shuangying’s true species, so he made something up.

He described Bai Shuangying as a type of seductive ghost who could interfere with people’s karmic threads and twist fate lines. He even painted him as a “ghost matchmaker” who appeared in male form to match his role.

There was a counterpart too, a “ghostly go-between”. Males on the left, females on the right. The “ghost matchmaker” had a mole on the upper-left face, while the go-between’s mole was lower right…

Had the situation not been serious, Fang Xiu could’ve spun an entire origin myth.

Cheng Songyun had been completely taken in. Bai Shuangying, however, had gone from blank expression to no facial features at all.

Fang Xiu thought the ghost would cool down after a few hours. But now, three hours later, Bai Shuangying was still expressionless, literally.

Realizing the severity, Fang Xiu limped closer and leaned on him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing against Bai Shuangying’s sleeve. “I didn’t know you cared that much…”

An eye appeared on Bai Shuangying’s blank face and looked down at him.

“I’ll say you’re a super powerful seductive ghost, so powerful you can shake the red threads of human fate!”

Fang Xiu rubbed against him again. His body was still burning with pain, cold sweat clinging to his skin. But his voice was cheerful, not at all like someone in agony.

“…Does that work? ‘Ghost matchmaker’ doesn’t sound good. Let’s drop it.”

Fang Xiu spoke gently.

A few seconds later, Bai Shuangying’s face slowly regenerated—and realized Fang Xiu was quietly smirking again.

Bai Shuangying: “?”

“I’m just really happy.” Fang Xiu leaned into his cool sleeve. “You know I hate losing control. And now I know you hate having your background made up… When friends want to get closer, they need to learn what the other dislikes.”

“I understand you a little better today. That feels great.”

Bai Shuangying was a bit confused.

Fang Xiu seemed sincerely warm, but when he said he hated losing control, he had shown a totally different, icy side.

This human… wanted companionship, wanted friends, but at times, was even more ruthless than an evil spirit.

Something tugged at Bai Shuangying’s memory, but his mind was so vast that pinning it down was difficult.

As he tried to recall, they reached the end of the stairs.

What they saw looked like a mechanical maintenance room. Thick dust blanketed cracked cement walls and floors. It looked utterly ordinary.

The red thread stretched across the floor and vanished into the center of the room. Fang Xiu raised the ghost flame and stepped forward with Cheng Songyun.

They found a hollow decorative skylight.

It wasn’t big and was shaped like a human eye. The red karmic thread passed through the “pupil”, pointing downward. Below was a vast space, illuminated brightly by moonlight.

The moment she saw what was below, Cheng Songyun staggered back and retched. Fang Xiu’s expression darkened as he focused.

Found it.

Cheng Songyun’s karmic thread dropped straight down into a black machine the size of a ten-cubic-meter box.

The machine looked like a fused group of black cabinets, flickering with red lights. Its surface was covered in brain-like tissue—squirming, pulsing, with deformed human faces protruding from it.

Above the machine, countless numbers and app icons shimmered and spun, forming a golden, distorted, three-dimensional “∞” (infinity) symbol, like a warped angelic halo.

…So the Huanxi E really is a gambling app, Fang Xiu thought.

…But its host wasn’t a phone. They’d found its server.

And now they faced an enormous problem.

Fang Xiu stared down in silence at Huanxi E.

They were at the skylight atop Huanxi World. From here, he could see Jia Xu, Blondie, Guan He, and the mushroom trio, as well as Uncle Hou’s group.

But from this angle, Huanxi World no longer looked like a joyful place.

For the first time, Fang Xiu truly felt what “illusion” meant…

Tonight’s moonlight was bright, revealing everything in the casino in stark detail.

The Huanxi E’s true body had replaced the central ring service desk. It now sat at the center of the grand hall.

There were no lights, no music, no beautiful wallpaper or ornate halls.

The lobby below was abandoned. Cracked tiles littered with dust and broken pillars exposing rebar. The floor was strewn with hundreds of corpses, their bones forming the intricate “carpet” patterns of the illusion.

There were no fine clothes or jewelry, no cigarettes or alcohol, no food or perfect lovers.

Everyone wore their original clothes. Some hugged empty air, groping obscenely. Some held rotten meat like fruit, raising it gracefully to their mouths.

Most danced and flailed at nothing. They were cheering and betting imaginary chips on non-existent games.

Fang Xiu spotted Uncle Hou.

From here, he wasn’t fat. In fact, he looked like a dried-out corpse. His clothes were soaked in corpse fluid and blood, stiff as concrete. His hair was matted with filth. If not for his recognizable features, Fang Xiu wouldn’t have known it was him.

Yet his posture was confident.

He stood, hands behind his back, chest puffed like he had a belly, even though one of his eyeballs had slipped from its socket and was now dangling wetly from his face.

Within the illusion, in the midst of ecstasy, the crowd moved like a frenzied swarm, rushing around the Huanxi E.

In that dazzling illusion, they danced and darted, maintaining a twisted order, like mad bees.

Except Fang Xiu and Cheng Songyun above, and their cooperating group: Guan He and the mushroom trio.

…There were exactly 882 “frenzied bees” intoxicated with joy.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 55: Farewell Before Departure

When Fang Xiu opened his eyes again, he saw brilliant sunlight.

He was curled up inside Bai Shuangying’s true body, like a soft-bodied creature that couldn’t live without water.

From the chest up, Bai Shuangying still maintained a humanoid form. He leaned against one end of the bathtub, his long black hair fanned out and resting on the smooth white porcelain edge. He was focused on Fang Xiu, his face as expressionless as ever.

“I slept the whole night?” Fang Xiu asked in surprise.

Crap. He had said he’d help Cheng Songyun catch the ghost. She didn’t force herself to stay up just because he looked too pitiful… right?

“Cheng Songyun’s karma has been resolved. Tonight, we can use the karmic thread to navigate,” Bai Shuangying said.

He raised a finger and infused that thread of karma into Fang Xiu’s mind.

Just like with each E dispelled, Fang Xiu instantly grasped the entire story of Cheng Songyun killing her husband.

Fang Xiu was quiet for a while. “Cheng Jie figured things out. Looks like she won’t be afraid of the ‘ghost’ anymore. As they say, if you have a clear conscience, you don’t have to be afraid of ghosts knocking on your door.”

He accepted Cheng Songyun’s story calmly, showing no particular emotion.

Bai Shuangying had been ready to inwardly mock the complexity of human emotions, but this Fang Xiu left him a little unsettled.

“You don’t seem surprised,” he said.

Fang Xiu rubbed his shoulder. “You know what the scariest thing about humans is?”

Bai Shuangying: “?”

“People change.” Fang Xiu said, “Some lies weren’t lies to begin with. At the time, whether it was love or a promise, they were sincere.”

“For the one who didn’t change, that’s even more terrifying than being deceived. If it were just deception, they could hate the liar and at most blame themselves for being foolish.”

“But if it’s not… they begin to doubt everything; their perception of the world, whether they did something wrong. Then comes a long, drawn-out pain.”

Fang Xiu looked at the sunlit forest. “Sometimes, even truth can turn into a lie. That’s how strange humans are.”

Bai Shuangying considered this. “You seem very used to such things.”

“That’s elementary-level deception class.” Fang Xiu winked at him.

Bai Shuangying was shocked. “Humans have deception classes now?”

“Nope. Gotcha.”

“……”

Fang Xiu laughed unreservedly at Bai Shuangying’s straight face. Then, out of habit, he tried to get up, only to remember he no longer had his left leg. He slipped and fell back into the tub.

The moment he left Bai Shuangying’s body, pain flared again at his wound. His lips quickly lost all color, and fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

Bai Shuangying said, “If you destroy the Huanxi E in time tonight, you won’t face the taboo a third time…”

“Bai Shuangying.” Fang Xiu interrupted his ghost.

He awkwardly climbed out of the bathtub and struggled to sit at the bedside.

“What?”

Fang Xiu’s tone was serious. “I’m grateful you helped Cheng Jie condense the karmic thread. But next time, I want you to inform me beforehand. I really, really hate losing control of a situation.”

Bai Shuangying was unconcerned. “Or else?”

“Hmm, I guess you don’t care whether I’m sincere. So let me put it practically.”

Fang Xiu turned his head. Through sweat-damp bangs, his black eyes shone.

“After the first ritual, you’ve become more and more proactive. There’s no fresh soul to eat in this taboo, but you’re even more eager than during the second ritual.”

“That tells me you want something from me. Not just Underworld rewards or tasty souls. Something else… something more important.”

Those black eyes glinted, not like gemstones, but like the edge of a blade.

“Bai Shuangying, I hope we can continue being ‘friends’ and communicate properly about everything.”

“Otherwise, whatever you want from me, I guarantee you won’t get it.”

So troublesome, Bai Shuangying thought. He really wasn’t used to coordinating with others when he wanted to do something.

But fine. There was no need to ruin his greater plan over something this minor. Their goals were aligned for now. If it’s a hassle, so be it.

Still, Fang Xiu’s eyes just now looked familiar. Bai Shuangying had the feeling he’d seen them somewhere before. That gaze was defiant, but he didn’t hate it.

“I’ll tell you next time,” Bai Shuangying said.

Fang Xiu grinned brightly. “Mm!”

His eyes were filled with happiness. He always looked at Bai Shuangying like that.

Bai Shuangying couldn’t understand it.

These past days, Bai Shuangying had thought that some attentive care would fully bind Fang Xiu to him.

And it had worked. Fang Xiu was noticeably closer to him. Bai Shuangying could tell.

But through the negotiation just now, he also realized: Fang Xiu didn’t for a second believe that an evil spirit would feel anything for him, not even the most basic camaraderie.

Fang Xiu knew he had ulterior motives. The human’s clarity left Bai Shuangying speechless.

…Since you understand everything, why do you still look at me like that?

…Is that emotion meant to deceive me?

…What are you really thinking?

While Bai Shuangying was still trying to work it out, Fang Xiu had already secured the corpse leg prosthetic and was getting ready to receive guests.

……

Cheng Songyun’s eyes were swollen like peaches. She had clearly cried all night. But something in her had changed, like a leaf that had drifted in the air for too long and finally landed.

Guan He had also managed to sleep through the night. His dark circles had lightened and he looked refreshed.

When the two saw Fang Xiu, they were just about to speak when they were startled by the sight of the corpse leg.

It was completely bloodless, with rough, cracked skin in a sickly wax-yellow hue. It was also covered in curly leg hair, completely out of place on Fang Xiu.

“I have no choice. There’s no proper prosthetic,” Fang Xiu said from the bed, trying to suppress his pained breathing.

Next came the mushroom trio.

They were much more candid. The moment Xiao Tian saw the corpse leg, she screamed and nearly fell over. Song Zheng and Xiao Li recoiled at once, squeezing their double chins.

“Xiao Li, Xiao Li come on!” Xiao Tian shouted as she shoved him forward.

Xiao Li reluctantly stepped up, pulling a peach pit from his pocket and tossing it to the floor.

In the next instant, the pit expanded wildly, turning into a carved miniature boat.

What had seemed like a simple seed revealed itself to be an intricately crafted peachwood boat, complete with carved rowers and passengers. The closest boatman looked around in confusion.

“Why is there no water here again? Ahhh, what are you doing?!”

Xiao Li stepped forward and grabbed the boatman’s paddle.

The boatman couldn’t match Xiao Li’s strengthened strength and stomped in fury. “Pirate! Pirate!”

Before he could shout more, Xiao Li shrank the boat and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Even inside the pocket, the pit continued to thump and emit tiny angry curses.

Xiao Li laughed awkwardly. “It’s made of peachwood. We usually bring it out to repel evil spirits. The people inside are just a bit hot-tempered, that’s all.”

The paddle, still full-sized, was handed to Fang Xiu. “Can you use this?”

“Won’t the boat be missing a paddle?” Fang Xiu asked curiously.

“The boatman will make another one. I don’t know where he gets them from. I even snatched his hat once,” said Veteran Pirate Xiao Li.

Fang Xiu understood. “Maybe it’s supernatural craftsmanship.”

Seeing Fang Xiu put away the hairy corpse leg, Xiao Tian finally exhaled.

She patted her chest and looked around. “Hey, where’s that handsome guy in white?”

Fang Xiu: “?”

Song Zheng looked embarrassed. “Xiao Tian!”

Xiao Tian mumbled, “I just saw that super-gross dead hairy leg, and I wanted to cleanse my eyes. That face not being out in the open feels like a waste…”

Fang Xiu nodded approvingly. “You’ve got taste.”

Xiao Tian: “Right?”

Song Zheng closed his eyes. “…You could look at me or Xiao Li too.”

Xiao Tian glanced at them both and politely hummed twice. “Let’s get to business.”

She grabbed a can from Fang Xiu’s prepared breakfast and turned serious.

“I watched A’Qing and Jia Xu yesterday. Jia Xu used the ‘Luck Borrowing Die’ again.”

Guan He was shocked. “Is he crazy?”

Xiao Tian clicked her tongue. “No, Uncle Hou told him to ‘make an impression’. He gathered a bunch of down-and-out folks to watch Jia Xu demonstrate the magic prop.”

“Uncle Hou even publicly said he’d never force Jia Xu to use the die. Anyone who wants to borrow its power has to go through Jia Xu personally.”

“Then what’s the point of showing off?” Guan He didn’t get it.

Cheng Songyun cleared her throat, her voice still hoarse. “Now everyone knows there’s a ‘guaranteed win’ method here. More people will ask Uncle Hou for chips. If they win, great; if they lose, there’s Jia Xu’s die as backup.”

Xiao Tian rolled her eyes. “That ‘backup’ is shaky. After using the die, Jia Xu had terrible luck. He lost several times in a row.”

Fang Xiu paused mid-paddle practice.

Xiao Tian continued, “Though he only gambled three or four times—some poker game I don’t understand. I couldn’t tell if it was bad luck or not. If we’re talking unlucky, A’Qing used to be way worse…”

She sighed as if mourning A’Qing’s misfortunes.

“…Uncle Hou’s starting to target us. His people have been following me and Xiao Tian, asking where Song Ge went. I stuck to our story, that you guys were stubborn and hired Song Ge to explore that ‘Emergency Exit’,” Xiao Li said, glancing nervously at Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu showed no emotion. “And?”

“I heard from Song Ge that the Emergency Exit is full of illusions. It’s really tricky. Some have tried before, and most were scared out. A few even died in there.”

Xiao Li scratched his head. “If you still plan to go today, Song Ge might…”

“Don’t worry. We’re not taking Song Zheng today.” Fang Xiu glanced at Cheng Songyun.

Guan He perked up. “You found a way, Fang Ge? Then tonight…”

Fang Xiu: “You’re not coming either.”

Guan He: “…”

Guan He: “…Huh?”

“Uncle Hou isn’t easy to deal with. Even though it’s only the second night, I need more smokescreens.” Fang Xiu calmly explained, “Tonight, Song Zheng goes to the casino as usual. Act natural. If anyone asks, tell them the Emergency Exit is dangerous. We got separated early on and you think the whole plan is unreliable.”

Song Zheng was honest. “That’s actually accurate.”

“Xiao Guan, you go to the casino too and cash in your blood debt.”

“Jia Xu and the others will come running to check on you. Pretend to waver, like you’ve lost hope following me. But no matter what Jia Xu says, don’t gamble.”

Guan He understood.

A minor abandoning the group to cash out would make anyone think Fang Xiu was in a terrible state.

“Uh, I don’t mind cashing it in. But five hours of just sitting there is kinda weird…”

Fang Xiu turned to Song Zheng. “Here’s the important part. I’m counting on you. Xiao Guan is in your hands.”

“Guan He, once you cash in your 1,000 chips, immediately lend them to Xiao Tian. A’Qing knew she has enhanced luck. Uncle Hou’s side won’t suspect anything for now.”

Xiao Tian pointed at herself, confused. “Me? Lend them to me for what?”

“…To challenge someone and apply a little luck leverage.”

Through the pain, Fang Xiu grinned.

“Let’s turn the casino upside down.”

……

By noon, the room had cleared out.

Fang Xiu polished the peachwood paddle Xiao Li gave him and adjusted his temporary prosthetic.

Really, he still needed a hook hand and a skull eyepatch, he thought, trying to joke to himself.

Bai Shuangying leaned on the edge of the tub watching him with an unreadable expression unreadable, but the ghost and the mountain view outside the window complemented each other perfectly. It was picturesque.

Knock knock.

Just as Fang Xiu was savoring the peace, someone knocked on the door.

He froze, then slowly stood. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mei Lan.” A soft voice replied.

Fang Xiu opened the door. As expected, Mei Lan stood outside, holding a bamboo bowl in both hands, looking nervous.

Her gaze lingered long on his injuries, and there was a trace of pity on her face.

“The water in this Nectar Bowl can purify curses,” she said softly. “May I come in and pour some for you? I don’t know if it’ll help…”

Fang Xiu silently stepped aside. Mei Lan entered with her head down. She looked out at the mountain scenery for a long time before saying again, “It’s really beautiful.”

She didn’t have Jia Xu’s arrogance. She looked exhausted and irritated, with dark circles under her eyes.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” Fang Xiu said lightly. “Or maybe… you’re here to spy for Jia Xu?”

Mei Lan: “I just wanted to trade for another can of yellow peaches.”

A few seconds later, she seemed to gather her courage.

“Actually, I don’t want to follow Jia Xu anymore.”

Fang Xiu raised an eyebrow.

Mei Lan lowered her head.

“‘Water Stealth’ isn’t useful here, and I’m not that smart. If I stay with you, I’ll just drag you down. I know this sounds like an excuse, but it’s really how I feel.”

As she spoke, she laid out 35 chips in front of Fang Xiu.

“These past two days, I only played even-odd bets, one at a time. Please believe me. I really don’t want to stay here.”

“You don’t trust me, I understand. I’m not asking to know your plans. I just want to say, if there’s anything I can do…”

Fang Xiu: “Then give me all your chips. If things go badly tonight, I’ll return them before midnight.”

Third Taboo: You must always hold a chip. Lose it, and die.

Mei Lan turned pale. “……”

Handing over all her chips was as good as handing over her life. If Fang Xiu didn’t return them, she’d have to borrow from Jia Xu or Uncle Hou, and they’d surely demand something in return.

Fang Xiu quietly watched her.

Finally, Mei Lan clenched her teeth and handed over all her chips.

“I believe you,” she said nervously.

“I don’t believe you, and I don’t need your trust either.” Fang Xiu took the chips without hesitation. “…But I will win.”

Mei Lan pressed her lips together and said nothing more.

She filled a glass vase with Nectar Water, then left with a can of yellow peaches.

Bai Shuangying, who had been watching. “My body is more effective than Nectar Water.”

Fang Xiu was drinking. Hearing this, he nearly choked through his nose.

“Please say ‘true body’. Your true body, thank you.”

“She’s trying to win your favor. Be careful.” Bai Shuangying ignored the correction and continued.

Clack. Fang Xiu set down his empty can.

“Actually, I’m more concerned about something else. How did Mei Lan know the Bone-Cleaving Blade was cursed?”

Fang Xiu touched the burning edge of his wound and looked toward the closed door.

“Maybe… we really do have a Taoist priest among us.”

Several hours later, night fell for the third time.

The lobby was bustling as usual.

Near the “Emergency Exit”, only Fang Xiu, leaning on his peachwood prosthetic, and the petite Cheng Songyun stood quietly in the shadows, which was completely out of place in the cheerful scene.

As expected, Jia Xu pushed through the respectful crowd and made his way to them.

“Come on, don’t be stubborn. Just one round tonight. I’ll take you. At least get your leg back. You look ridiculous like this!”

The crowd behind Jia Xu had all witnessed the power of the Luck Borrowing Die, and murmurs of envy rippled through them.

Fang Xiu stared at him for a while. “Is it safe following you? I heard your luck was a little off last night.”

Jia Xu’s expression shifted, then turned boisterous. “It was nothing. It’s just a normal unlucky streak.”

“Somebody even researched this. This casino is totally fair! I just hit a statistical outlier…”

“A casino formed from the obsessions of gamblers is, of course, fair.”

Fang Xiu looked at the gaudy sign for Huanxi World.

“But you should know…what’s most terrifying to gamblers is a completely fair casino.”

Knowing there’s no cheating, gamblers only spiral further, because they’re convinced they can still win.

Jia Xu wasn’t listening. His attention was elsewhere.

“You said obsession? I called that on day one. Those three taboos are basically pushing people to win.”

“The obsession that created the Huanxi E is obviously ‘I want to win.’ It’s not hard to guess.”

He spoke with pride, full of “I figured it out first” smugness. He reached out to Fang Xiu like he was pulling him from the mud.

Fang Xiu didn’t move or respond. He leaned against the wall, his whole body trembling faintly from pain.

“Come on, Fang Xiu. I know it’s hard to admit you picked the wrong path.”

“It sucks to admit failure. But you won’t survive another taboo. Come with me.”

Fang Xiu shook his head and didn’t take the hand.

“Goodbye, Jia Xu,” he said softly.

---

The author has something to say:

Xiao Fang is at it again. Cue the suona funeral band.jpg

————————————

A little off-topic ramble~

In the last chapter, someone questioned, “How could someone so kind turn into scum just because of gambling?” It felt too extreme, hard to believe.

I used to think that too.

Our country’s anti-drug awareness is very strong. No one finds it strange when “a social elite becomes trash after taking drugs.”, so they subconsciously think the harm of gambling isn’t that great.

But when it comes to gambling, people subconsciously underestimate the harm.

Maybe it’s because online gambling ads and esports betting are everywhere, and casual card games are common.

Some stories even glamorize gamblers, so people don’t grasp how damaging gambling really is.

So many think:

“Rich and smart people wouldn’t get addicted.”

“Gambling isn’t that easy to access.”

“It won’t change a person’s nature.”

“Once the debts are paid, life can start over.”

It’s precisely this belief that leads to tragedy when encountering a real gambler.

The comments have mentioned it many times, so let me formally recommend:

Please check out [Jie She]—a site with real-life gambling addiction stories.

My fictional tales are nothing. Real-life gambling addicts are even scarier, even more absurd.

There’s a reason sex, drugs, and gambling are always listed together. _(:3 」∠)

And above all, may you never meet a gambler, and may you never gamble yourself!

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 54: It’s Cloudy Today

When Bai Shuangying interacted with humans, many of them came to him seeking healing from pain or illness.

He knew that sometimes, when faced with pain, even death could be considered a release.

He also knew that Fang Xiu was the most pain-tolerant human he had ever seen. But the pain before had at least stayed within natural limits. This time, the E was different. It was pushing human sensory limits to the extreme.

If Bai Shuangying weren’t by his side, Fang Xiu wouldn’t have been able to sleep these past two days.

If this pain were placed on someone else, they’d probably collapse in tears and gamble away 1,000 chips in a frenzy just to make it stop. A weaker person wouldn’t even be able to move.

To be honest, Bai Shuangying was surprised that Fang Xiu could still think clearly.

Although Fang Xiu still seemed composed, Bai Shuangying didn’t want to gamble further.

If Fang Xiu broke another taboo or two, becoming a cripple screaming in agony, it would be the end of everything.

…And this was far from the end.

In front of him, Cheng Songyun bit her lip.

“He should’ve sacrificed me instead,” Cheng Songyun said quietly.

Bai Shuangying looked at her in silence.

“I refused to gamble, so Fang Xiu had no obligation to find human flesh for me. There’s fewer evil spirits here. He could’ve just told me to kill Shang Debao, then taken Guan He to explore.”

Cheng Songyun’s voice carried pain. “All I’ve been thinking about is the past. I’ve been less useful than even Xiao Guan…”

Bai Shuangying said, “In my eyes, you and Guan He are equally useless.”

Cheng Songyun: “…”

“I only know one thing: Fang Xiu isn’t some bleeding-heart. Instead of wallowing in these thoughts, you’d be better off making yourself useful.”

Bai Shuangying was irritated by human whining. Fang Xiu never once complained to him.

Cheng Songyun gave a bitter smile. “Fair enough.”

Bai Shuangying instructed her to sleep on the sofa and not to open her eyes no matter what she saw or heard, until everything was over.

“What do you mean, ‘until everything is over’?” Cheng Songyun asked.

“You’ll know when the time comes.”

Bai Shuangying’s voice was cold as always.

Cheng Songyun sighed and closed her eyes.

At the same time, Bai Shuangying lowered his gaze. The thread of karma trembled violently in his palm, surrounded by countless distortions. It seemed to want to escape his grip, but he held it firmly.

The flow of countless karmic lines rushed before his eyes…into Cheng Songyun’s dream.

……

Cheng Songyun’s life was both ordinary and extraordinary.

She was born in a backwater village and grew up with her childhood sweetheart, Sun Jinfeng. Their families were close and knew each other inside out.

The two of them were inseparable from a young age. They were classmates in elementary and middle school and attended the same high school. But while Sun Jinfeng got into a top university, Cheng Songyun didn’t perform well on the entrance exam and ended up at an average college.

Even so, in the summer of senior year, Sun Jinfeng formally confessed his feelings to her.

Back then, the young man seemed so sincere and full of passion.

Cheng Songyun’s friends didn’t think the relationship would last. They said Sun Jinfeng had a bright future and would soon be surrounded by other outstanding women, and he’d eventually move on.

“Yun Yun, first loves rarely last. Don’t get too attached.” They worried she’d be too heartbroken if it ended and often gave her gentle warnings.

Cheng Songyun never listened.

“I believe in him,” she declared.

…And indeed, Sun Jinfeng didn’t stray.

Throughout college, they stayed in constant contact.

They spent holidays together, exchanged small, cute gifts, and developed a new tradition.

Every New Year, Cheng Songyun would buy two diaries. She wrote in one and gave the other to Sun Jinfeng. They’d fill them up through the year and then swap diaries and start again.

Sun Jinfeng had beautiful handwriting and was meticulous. He saved all his ticket stubs from visiting her, took daily pictures of his window view, printed them out, and stuck them in the journal.

Outside his dorm window was a lush tree and a broad sky. As the seasons passed, the sky changed delicately and beautifully.

He said this way, they could share the same space.

Whenever it was anything but a sunny day, he’d cheerfully write, “It’s cloudy today.”

Even when they fought, they never skipped a diary entry.

After swapping them at New Year, they’d both flip to the same date to see what complaints the other had written about them.

And so, Cheng Songyun’s desk gradually filled with diaries. She sealed them in plastic bags, added moisture-absorbing packets, and imagined the two of them reading them together when they were old while laughing at each other loudly.

They’d be so happy then.

……

By the time they’d exchanged four diaries, they graduated from college.

Sun Jinfeng got a job at a major company in Gui Province while Cheng Songyun took a job in HR at a small firm. They kept up their diary exchange. No matter how busy he was with overtime, he never missed a day.

He used the diary to vent about his boss or share little work stories, like someone’s office turtle dying, or a succulent on the windowsill blooming.

I was late today. My stomach’s acting up today. I missed you a lot today.

It’s cloudy today.

Instead of ticket stubs, he began inserting meal receipts or silly photos from late-night work.

He still took daily sky photos, but the view now was from an office window rather than a dormitory.

The city skyline outside his office was breathtaking.

Eventually, Sun Jinfeng filled up two more diaries and found stability at his company.

Under the New Year fireworks, Cheng Songyun opened the latest diary from him. On the last page, hidden behind a photo of brilliant clouds, was a diamond ring.

She turned around in surprise and saw Sun Jinfeng was holding a giant bouquet.

He proposed.

Cheng Songyun accepted with joy, and he hugged her tightly.

Maybe because they’d known each other so long, married life was even calmer than she imagined, but still happy.

Sun Jinfeng didn’t smoke or drink. He was ambitious, respectful toward female colleagues, and never hung around massage parlors like some of his coworkers. He always let her know when he had to work late or go on business trips.

They never forgot anniversaries and always surprised each other. They weren’t rich, but life was comfortable and smooth.

Just like a “normal family”.

Even after moving in together, they continued writing diaries.

Any little friction they didn’t know how to talk about, or apologies they couldn’t say aloud, they wrote in the diaries.

Whenever the sky wasn’t clear, Sun Jinfeng still wrote with excitement: “It’s cloudy today.”

Cheng Songyun bought a storage cabinet and neatly stored all their diaries with their important documents.

It felt magical, as if her entire life had been packed neatly into that small cabinet.

……

By their fourth wedding anniversary, the cabinet held twenty diaries; ten from each of them. Their daughter had just turned one. Then came a massive upheaval.

The economy was in a slump with layoffs were everywhere. Sun Jinfeng’s entire department was axed. Cheng Songyun also lost her job.

With a baby to raise and a mortgage to pay, their severance packages wouldn’t last long.

After much thought, Cheng Songyun said bravely, “Let’s sell the house.”

Sun Jinfeng’s eyes turned red.

“This house is too big. It feels empty. The market’s still good. We can sell it for a lot,” she said calmly.

“We’ll buy a smaller secondhand place. Even if it’s old, it’s fine, as long as it’s near a good school.”

Looking at the home they’d so carefully decorated, Sun Jinfeng’s voice was choked. “It’s my fault… You and our daughter shouldn’t have to suffer…”

Cheng Songyun shook her head with a smile. “This isn’t suffering. As long as we’re together, it’s enough.”

She pulled him to the computer, pointing out a modest home. “The price is fair, and it’s well laid-out. It’ll hold its value…”

Sun Jinfeng hugged his wife and looked at the sample picture on his phone.

The house wasn’t big, with only two bedrooms and a living room. The decoration looked old and there wasn’t an elevator. However, there was a big window in the living room that captured the scenery outside that looked as if it came from a painting.

The price really was appropriate. If they traded in their current house, they’d have an extra million in cash.

“This time, we don’t need to settle for a fully furnished house. We’ll design and renovate it ourselves,” Cheng Songyun said with a smile.

And she followed through. They decorated their small home into something cozy and warm. Just looking at it filled them with hope.

On the day they officially moved in, Sun Jinfeng carried their daughter in his arms and took one step after another toward their new home. He kissed his daughter on the cheek with a faint smile on his face.

“Wife, thank you.” As he stepped through the doorway, Sun Jinfeng turned around and said this to Cheng Songyun with sincerity.

Afterward, Sun Jinfeng tapped into his old connections and began the difficult journey of starting his own business. He was so busy his feet barely touched the ground.

With no one else to care for their daughter, Cheng Songyun took on all household responsibilities, raised the child, and worked a temp job. Every day she was busy from the moment she opened her eyes until she closed them.

Things didn’t go well for Sun Jinfeng. His company devoured money like a bottomless pit. His diary entries were filled with self-doubt, pain, and anxiety.

But he still remembered to take a photo of the sky through the office window every day.

Cheng Songyun’s relatives couldn’t stand it anymore and quietly urged her to divorce. Everyone said that nine out of ten startups fail, and it was clear Sun Jinfeng was heading toward ruin. Cheng Songyun was working herself to the bone, practically a widow, and might end up saddled with debt.

Cheng Songyun firmly refused.

“I believe in him,” she said.

…In the fourth year of his startup, Sun Jinfeng succeeded.

The day he turned a profit, he rubbed her rough hands and cried so hard he almost passed out.

Sun Jinfeng became a multimillionaire overnight.

He was known for doting on his wife and daughter and never strayed. He bought a beautiful large apartment, and the family moved into a high-end community. But they still kept their old, worn-down little home.

The storage cabinet now held thirty diaries. It was getting crowded. Cheng Songyun cleared out a separate small room to store them as a study.

That year, she was 33 years old.

The following years were smooth and happy.

When she turned 40, Sun Jinfeng declared he was financially free and retired. The couple traveled occasionally and spent the rest of their time caring for their daughter.

Their diaries kept increasing, now covered with photos of their travels.

Sun Jinfeng even bought an expensive camera and insisted on photographing the weather, which their daughter teased as being overly sentimental.

It’s cloudy today.

He wrote that line over and over, from their youth at 18 or 19, all the way into their 40s, when his hair had begun to turn gray.

……

When did things start to go wrong? Cheng Songyun still didn’t know.

She only remembered that in the New Year of her 43rd year, they didn’t exchange diaries.

Then she discovered their savings account was empty. Sun Jinfeng laughed it off, saying he had lent the money to a friend and told her not to worry.

Then her jewelry disappeared. Cheng Songyun wanted to call the police, but Sun Jinfeng said it was just a stroke of bad luck and warned her that involving outsiders might bring retaliation. So the matter was dropped.

Eventually, debt collectors came knocking.

She suddenly realized the house was no longer theirs, the home wasn’t their home anymore.

Sun Jinfeng wept bitterly, slapping himself and frantically apologizing.

He said he had gambled and fallen into someone’s trap.

It started with a refusal to accept failure. He just wanted to win back a little money. But he got hooked. The savings were gone. The house was gone.

But he swore to heaven he didn’t owe anyone money.

“Yun Yun, let’s start over, okay?”

Sun Jinfeng clung to her sleeve. “I promise. I won’t gamble anymore. I really won’t. If I do, may I die a horrible death.”

Cheng Songyun was dizzy for half a day. She couldn’t understand. How could such a large sum of money just disappear, without a trace?

Maybe it was because they’d had it too good for too long, she thought. They’d been through hardship before. They’d supported each other for half their lives. How could she just leave him now?

If Sun Jinfeng could change, everything would be okay again.

So they moved back into that shabby old house.

Sun Jinfeng started job hunting. Cheng Songyun returned to working temp jobs.

But their daughter, home for summer vacation, reacted strongly. She firmly advised her mother to divorce.

“He already gambled away the house. He’ll never change! Mom, you have to divorce him. It’s not too late!” her daughter pleaded.

Cheng Songyun was silent for a long time.

“I believe in him,” she sighed. “Sweetheart, you’re still young. Not everything is so black and white.”

“When he had money, our family was just fine. If I leave him now that he’s down, that’s not how a person should be.”

Her daughter stomped her foot in frustration.

“He didn’t care about you at all when he lost everything!”

Cheng Songyun: “Your dad isn’t bad at heart. He’ll change. I’ll make sure he does.”

She kept writing in her diary, recording every day’s pain and hope. Maybe this diary would have a chance to be given to him. No, it definitely would.

Today, I got a message from a debt collector. He took out a loan under my name.

Today, I found out he’s still gambling. He secretly hid a phone.

Today, he hit me for the first time.

The moment he hit her, Cheng Songyun was completely stunned. When Sun Jinfeng realized what he had done, he dropped to his knees and started sobbing again.

“It’s my fault. I actually owed 800,000 before…” Sun Jinfeng choked through red, teary eyes. “I just didn’t want you two to suffer. At my age, I can’t do much anymore. How can I repay 800,000…”

“Yun Yun, I just wanted to keep this house. I didn’t want to sell it. It’s our home…”

She still believed him.

The second time he hit her was because she noticed the family’s camera was missing and questioned him. He became furious and slapped her on the spot.

Afterwards, he once again apologized with tears in his eyes.

“I couldn’t control myself. I won 200,000 in one go… I should’ve stopped while I was ahead…”

“I know you’re disappointed. Really, just this once. I’ll never gamble again!”

She still believed him.

Then came the third time. The fourth…

Cheng Songyun kept writing in her diary. She realized she was going numb. The first time she saw tears in his eyes, her heart had twisted with pain. Now, when she saw his face full of tears, she felt nothing.

She pulled out their college diaries and gently traced the words “It’s cloudy today” with her fingers.

The most recent time he hit her, he almost broke her leg. She looked at the bloated, roaring man before her and suddenly couldn’t recall what he used to look like.

Had she said something wrong? Or failed to find the right way?

…She still wanted to believe him, but she was reaching her limit.

When Sun Jinfeng learned she wanted a divorce, he flew into a rage.

“You ever earned a cent in your life? Haven’t you lived off me this whole time? Now that I’m broke you want to run? Why didn’t I realize before what a whore you are?”

After cursing, he started begging again.

“I’m sorry, Yun Yun… I’m scum, worse than a dog… You’re all I’ve got. Even if I have to deliver food, I’ll pay back the debt. Just trust me this one time, please?”

Then he pulled a knife from the kitchen and, in front of her, cut off his left pinky finger.

Cheng Songyun was shocked by the bloody scene. She rushed him to the hospital and didn’t dare mention divorce again.

Just a bit longer, she thought. This time, he’ll really change.

……

Their daughter graduated from college, found a job, and got married.

She refused to have anything to do with her gambling father and would only meet Cheng Songyun outside the home.

Every time she saw her mother’s bruises, she would try to convince her to leave. And then break down crying.

Outside, the daughter cried. Inside, the husband cried.

Cheng Songyun didn’t know where her life had gone wrong.

She was shocked to find she had adapted to this horrific life.

Now she worked temp jobs, did housework, helped pay off debts, and was occasionally beaten, over and over, day by day.

Sun Jinfeng was still gambling. He wouldn’t even consider working a job that paid a few thousand a month. Whenever she brought up money, he hit her.

He had taken to drinking and would hit her when drunk, too. He knew where to hit without leaving visible bruises. He knew how to avoid punishment. His apologies became more and more perfunctory.

Whenever she brought up divorce, he threatened suicide and threw tantrums.

She had heard that filing for divorce was troublesome and it could take a year or two to resolve.

Sometimes she thought about taking the risk. Other times, she thought, I’m already 49… How many years do I even have left?

Maybe this is just how my life ends, Cheng Songyun thought.

The diary cabinet gathered dust. She hadn’t opened it in a long time.

Things changed at New Year. Her daughter came to her, terrified. Sun Jinfeng had gone to her home asking for money.

To avoid trouble, her daughter had always sent her support payments directly to Cheng Songyun.

But Sun Jinfeng insisted she wasn’t supporting them and even threatened to cause a scene at her workplace.

Her daughter and son-in-law were forced to give him 10,000 yuan just to get rid of him. But in less than three days, he showed up again.

Her daughter, fed up, decided to move. But then…

“Mom, he found Cong Cong’s kindergarten.” Across the table, her daughter was nearly falling apart. “He claimed to be the grandfather and took the child… He had videos with Cong Cong, our contact info… I missed a call, and he took the kid…”

“He’s asking for money again. What do I do, Mom…”

Cong Cong was Cheng Songyun’s grandson, who just turned three this year.

This time, Cheng Songyun stayed quiet for a long while.

She and Sun Jinfeng had been together since they could remember. She knew all his habits.

Like how he always held onto the handrail when going upstairs.

Like how, if alcohol wasn’t put away, he’d drink every drop.

Like how, when he hit her, he always took a slanted step forward.

Five peaceful days passed.

One night, a drunk Sun Jinfeng climbed the stairs with the help of the railing, and saw his wife waiting at the top.

“What now?” he asked impatiently.

Cheng Songyun: “If you need money, just tell me. Don’t ask our daughter.”

“Why the hell not? She’s a damn ingrate!” Sun Jinfeng roared. “I spent hundreds of thousands on her, and now she complains when I ask for a few thousand?”

Cheng Songyun: “But you didn’t raise Cong Cong.”

“Grandpa, hic, Grandpa playing with his grandson, is that illegal? Cong Cong likes me. I’ll go see him again tomorrow…”

Cheng Songyun closed her eyes.

“I’ll say this one last time: If you need money, tell me. Don’t drag the children into this.”

“…Do you remember what you said the first time you climbed these stairs?”

Sun Jinfeng scoffed. “Who remembers that crap?”

He grabbed the railing, stepped diagonally forward to reach for her, but his foot slipped on something slick, like entrails.

His drunk mind didn’t have time to react. He lost his balance and fell.

His hand was less than a fist’s distance from her. In that moment, he looked at her with wide, almost confused eyes.

Cheng Songyun had only meant to teach him a lesson, maybe break his leg. Then she could fully control him. He wouldn’t be able to hit her, harass their daughter’s family, or sneak off to gamble.

Crude as it was, it seemed worth it. She should have done it sooner.

Maybe… maybe she could peel back the layers and find the man she once loved.

That husband had existed for over forty years. The monster before her had only existed for less than ten. He had to still be there, sleeping somewhere, not gone forever.

And so she watched him fall. He hit the steps with a dull thud. He lay limp at the foot of the stairs. Under the flickering motion sensor light, blood spread steadily.

His eyes were still wide, staring blankly at her.

Cheng Songyun gripped the railing and looked down at the familiar yet foreign corpse.

She remembered the first time they’d walked up these stairs. Sun Jinfeng had held their daughter tightly and smiled with pride.

“Our little girl’s been through enough. I’ll buy her a big house someday. I swear I’ll never let her suffer again.”

He had kissed her cheek gently, afraid his stubble would hurt her.

Just now, he said: Who remembers that crap?

She stared into those bewildered, shocked eyes.

She remembered the first day they sent their daughter to preschool. Sun Jinfeng had been even more reluctant than she was.

“Kids grow up so fast,” he had said in a daze. “It’s too fast… What if she’s scared inside? Can’t we wait a little longer before sending her?”

A few days ago, he had taken their grandson from preschool, just to squeeze out some money. And said he would do it again.

At last, Cheng Songyun looked at the blood. Under the light, it was blindingly red. Just like the bouquet Sun Jinfeng had used to propose.

“I’ll treat you well for the rest of my life!”

She had never seen him so serious.

Now he was dead.

That moment she realized this, her first thought wasn’t fear, but surprise.

She would never get her husband back. That “It’s cloudy today” written in the year she turned 42. That was his final note to her.

…But how could that be the end?

She couldn’t stop thinking of the diaries. Of sky after sky.

Cheng Songyun slowly squatted down expressionlessly, her body like a puppet.

…Had she done something wrong? Not done enough? Failed to save him?

…Could there have been a different ending?

In a daze, a red thread slithered from the corpse, like a snake, and came to her. She instinctively grabbed it.

A flood of obsessions poured into her mind. Somehow, she knew they belonged to the dead man at the foot of the stairs.

[I must make a comeback. Or what was the point of my life?]

[I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win I want to win…]

She searched for more, but found nothing.

No regret. No anger. No fear.

No home. No her. No daughter.

Not even the weather today.

It turned out, a person could be alive, yet already dead.

It turned out, their ending had been decided long ago.

Cheng Songyun clutched the red thread. Silent tears streamed down her face. Then she began to sob uncontrollably.

In endless pain, everything turned to pure white.

Cheng Songyun opened her eyes, her face soaked in tears.

“Very good. You’ve understood.”

In Bai Shuangying’s palm, the red thread was now solid, almost tangible.

Cheng Songyun sniffled and moved her lips. “You were watching the whole time? You…”

“No need to worry. I won’t judge.” Bai Shuangying’s face was still expressionless. “…It’s just a common tale from the human world.”

---

The author has something to say:

This arc is Auntie’s story _(:з」∠)

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 53: Two Solutions

Bai Shuangying fixed his gaze on Cheng Songyun. “If you fully accept the karmic bond, I’ll be able to clearly reveal the threads of karma.”

Cheng Songyun unconsciously clasped her fingers together. “What does it mean to accept karma?”

Fang Xiu had shared some of his theories with them, including the idea that “the E is connected to karmic threads”. Unfortunately, none of them really understood metaphysics, and even Fang Xiu couldn’t explain much in detail.

Professional Bai Shuangying: “You still have emotional knots. You haven’t accepted this karmic bond, so the thread is unstable. Once you comprehend it, once you figure it out, you’ll naturally know how to stabilize it.”

Fang Xiu: “Uh… can you put it in plainer terms?”

Every time metaphysics came up, Bai Shuangying started talking like he was speaking in tongues.

“It’s a kind of instinct. Hard to describe.” Bai Shuangying glanced at him again.

Fang Xiu: “…”

He couldn’t help but think of a class genius he once knew.

Fang Xiu was smart, always in the top three in his grade. But his good grades came from consistent studying, not innate talent.

He’d seen real prodigies. There was a guy in his class who was a total math whiz but average in all the humanities. Fang Xiu would sometimes ask him for help with math problems, and the way that guy talked was exactly like Bai Shuangying.

…It’s so troublesome to explain in words. Isn’t it something you just see and get?

Natural instinct geniuses are just too hard to deal with, Fang Xiu sighed.

Guan He: “Sounds like she needs to resolve her emotional knots first? Let’s help Auntie Cheng with that before anything else.”

Fang Xiu shook his head lightly. “Guan He, think about yourself. Do you think emotional knots are that easy to untie?”

Guan He instantly went silent.

Humans are emotional creatures, after all. How could they easily let go of the shadow of death and the tangle of love and hate with just a few words?

Cheng Songyun lowered her eyes, nervously twisting her fingers. “Sorry, I’ll try to think of something…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. There’s definitely more than one solution. Don’t stress about it, Cheng Jie. Emotional clarity takes time. Rushing it only traps you deeper in the maze.” Fang Xiu’s tone was relaxed. “Let’s go upstairs first.”

Cheng Songyun, Guan He: “???”

Wait, wasn’t this place supposed to be super dangerous? And now they’re just going up like that?

Fang Xiu only smiled and said nothing.

He walked up to one set of stairs first. As soon as he lifted his foot past the step, he stepped into thin air.

“Looks like this path is no good.”

The second stairwell, however, allowed them to go up.

The group started testing each path one step at a time, slowly working through by brute-force exploration.

Guan He swallowed hard.

The darkness was thick, and the ghost flame only lit up a small area. The space around them was a twisted labyrinth of flipped spiraling staircase. It was like walking through an endless nightmare where they couldn’t even identify the start and end.

Worse still, these stairs mixed reality with illusion. Even basic spatial orientation—up, down, left, right—was distorted by hallucinations.

Some spots looked like floors and stairs, but stepping on them meant falling through thin air.

Others looked upside down but were safe to walk across. One railing looked perfectly normal, until the moment someone tried to grab it and nearly went tumbling headfirst.

At the front, Song Zheng was cautious to the extreme.

After four hours, they had only managed to climb two floors.

When they reached the twenty-ninth branching point, they hit another dead end and had to carefully turn back again. There were still many more forks waiting to be tested.

Guan He was dizzy and disoriented. “At this rate, how long are we gonna be stuck here…”

…If they come back tomorrow, will the layout reset?

…If they have to do this all over again, will they even be able to find this spot again?

…And when they leave tonight with nothing to show for it, Fang Xiu’s going to slice off another thirteen pounds of flesh!

This pace was suffocating. For a brief moment, Guan He even considered just joining Song Zheng’s “guess the size” game. At least they could rest and sort their thoughts.

Reaching a narrow and steep high stair, Guan He stopped and leaned over his knees, panting.

Even though it was a descent, Song Zheng still led the way up front. Seeing Guan He gasping, he chuckled.

“Tired, huh?”

Song Zheng stood steadily on the next platform and held out both hands. “Come on, I’ll help you up. Watch your step.”

The “Murderous Intent Seismograph” in his hands was completely quiet.

Guan He leaned forward, about to reach out, when Fang Xiu grabbed his arm from behind.

“Thank you for your company,” Fang Xiu said to “Song Zheng” on the platform. “As an illusion, you really are thoughtful.”

Guan He: “?!”

Cheng Songyun staggered, nearly losing her balance. Bai Shuangying tilted his head at “Song Zheng”, narrowing his eyes. A few seconds later, a flash of surprise crossed his gaze.

…It really was an illusion.

This illusion was so natural. Bai Shuangying had been scanning the surroundings and hadn’t tested Song Zheng at all.

Now, he turned to his human, eyes full of interest. Fang Xiu had no knowledge of metaphysics, so how had he figured it out?

“Song Zheng” kept a straight face. “Don’t joke around. We’ve been together this whole time… Fang Xiu, are you okay? You sure you’re not under a spell?”

Guan He instinctively glanced back and forth between Song Zheng and Fang Xiu. Cheng Songyun firmly grabbed him and stood on Fang Xiu’s side.

Fang Xiu smiled. “The Huanxi E is really intelligent, but it still can’t replace a human. You slipped up at the very beginning. I just wanted to see how you’d make your move.”

“Thanks to you, I understand this place much better now.”

Guan He: “Slipped up at the beginning?!”

He hadn’t noticed anything strange about Song Zheng.

Fang Xiu glanced at the two and explained, “When we first arrived, he said, ‘lucky ones lost half, unlucky ones were wiped out.’”

“If it were really that dangerous, would Song Zheng have waited until we got in here to tell us?”

Guan He: “Ah…”

Song Zheng crossed his arms. “People slip up. What’s the big deal?”

“So then I targeted you with killing intent, but your ‘Murder-Intent Seismoscope’ didn’t react.” Fang Xiu said, “An illusion is an illusion. Fake things don’t cut it.”

Cheng Songyun and Guan He: “…”

Killing intent is something you can just casually whip up like that…?

“Your killing intent wasn’t pure.” Song Zheng frowned. “Alright, enough messing around. Let’s head back first.”

Fang Xiu didn’t budge. “And lastly, the place you’re standing? There’s nothing there.”

“If Xiao Guan had stepped down, he’d have fallen straight down the stairs. Then you’d cover it up as an accident, and we’d rush to help, making it easier for you to trick us into falling too.”

The expression disappeared from Song Zheng’s face.

A second later, “Song Zheng” bared his teeth and gave the same smile that the casino host would welcome guest with.

He—or rather, it—spoke in a creepy, robotic tone. “How did you know there was no floor there?”

Fang Xiu shifted the ghost flame to his middle finger, then flipped it up. “Don’t underestimate humans, lines of code.”

“Song Zheng” stared at him for a few seconds, then burst like a soap bubble and vanished.

Fang Xiu caught his breath and stepped to the front of the group. “From here on out, I’ll lead. Don’t step wrong.”

Having just grazed past death, Guan He broke out in a cold sweat. His legs had gone weak and he sat down for a while before he could even move.

“What about the real Song Zheng?” Cheng Songyun asked worriedly.

Seeing they weren’t in the mood to go on, Fang Xiu decided to take a break too. “He was probably lured away by another illusion. Let’s hope his instincts and skills are enough.”

Guan He was still panting. “What even is this place? Could we be illusions? Could everyone be illusions?”

Fang Xiu laughed: “The Huanxi E is just a gambling app. It’s not that smart. Think about it… It doesn’t have the ability to ‘create’ things.”

All those apartment rooms were connected by karmic threads. They all exist in reality.

The stunning casino games and unrealistically beautiful staff were just enhancements on the idea of “sexy dealers dealing live”.

Even the fancy food, villas, and lovers on the menu all needed people to choose them first. After that, the Huanxi E probably scours its “karmic database” for the info and modifies it.

That dazzling “Huanxi World” was, in the end, built from human imagination and karma.

“…Right now it can only fake the setting, throw in a phony version of Song Zheng, and hope we slip up.”

Saying that, Fang Xiu couldn’t help but sighed.

“Because up to now, we’ve never ‘used’ the app. It has no karmic ties to our lives.”

Under the ghostly red light, both Guan He and Cheng Songyun froze.

It was true. They’d never gambled, never redeemed any chips. That free token had been hoarded, used only to block the death taboo.

Guan He felt a cold shiver crawl up the back of his neck. “Don’t tell me…”

“Yup. This is the ‘easiest mode’ of the ‘Emergency Exit’.” Fang Xiu said, “If people who’ve traded away loved ones with blood debts came here… The Huanxi E knows their karma inside out. Those illusions would be something else.”

Guan He looked around at the pitch-black surroundings, the staircase chaos like a drunk Hogwarts. He felt that “easiest” was… arguable.

Cheng Songyun seemed lost in thought. She dug her nails into her palm expressionlessly.

“So that’s it for tonight.” Her tone was a bit unhinged. “We know what it looks like in there but still don’t know how to walk it. If I can resolve my emotional knots and stabilize the karmic thread…”

“Cheng Jie, aren’t you curious?” Fang Xiu cut her off. “Why did I know that platform was actually empty? Even the Huanxi E was curious.”

Cheng Songyun stared blankly at him.

Fang Xiu spoke softly, “No matter how the Huanxi E decorates it, its still just illusions overlaid on reality. Which means, we’re inside a real, physical building.”

At present, from what he could tell, the “Emergency Exit” was special. There was no karmic interference from others here.

If the casino was like a movie set slapped on reality to confuse everyone equally, then for the three of them, the Emergency Exit was like a lightly airbrushed version; it was still masking things, but closest to reality.

Fang Xiu wasn’t sure yet what the place meant, or where it led.

But the Huanxi E was clearly terrified of the Emergency Exit. That had to mean it was their best breakthrough point.

After entering, Fang Xiu had memorized every step, every climb, building a mental model of the structure.

After all, real buildings follow logic. If he could figure out the real stair layout, he could pinpoint the voids and fake turns. Once he fully understood it, the illusions would no longer work on him.

Hopefully, this building isn’t too complex, he thought.

“Here, I can deduce the real layout from the path we walked.” Fang Xiu smiled at Cheng Songyun. “It’s slower than tracing the karmic line, but we should have enough time. Just go at your own pace.”

Cheng Songyun responded quietly, nails still digging into her palm.

At 11:30 p.m., a flash of light returned them to the lobby. Fang Xiu quickly scanned the area and spotted Song Zheng curled up on the ground in a defensive crouch.

He looked more like a mushroom in that position.

Fang Xiu: “Mr. Song.”

Song Zheng: “…Ah!”

Song Zheng staggered to his feet, looking like his legs were numb, and cursed under his breath. Seeing the three of them were okay, he finally relaxed.

“Shit. That place is fucked up,” Song Zheng shuddered. “As soon as I walked in, I was back at the office, you know? All my coworkers were there, asking me to go to lunch…”

His intuition had screamed. He’d immediately squatted down and didn’t move an inch.

No matter what his “coworkers” said, or even when his “boss” came to yell at him, Song Zheng didn’t react at all. He held that defensive position and stayed there for five straight hours.

Fang Xiu: “You didn’t see any stairs?”

“Stairs? What stairs?” Song Zheng was bewildered.

Seeing the casino doors were open, Fang Xiu winked at his two teammates, then said to Song Zheng, “We’ll talk in detail tomorrow.”

……

Inside the mountain-view room, Fang Xiu was skillfully butchering Shang Debao.

The good news: Shang Debao’s corpse hadn’t rotted. It was well-preserved. This time it was half an arm and a full right leg, about 40 pounds of human flesh was carved off.

No one knew whether it would become “free rice porridge”, or someone’s “custom gourmet meal” on their dinner table.

After dismembering the body, Fang Xiu rolled up his left pant leg above the knee. Though he was thin, his bone structure was excellent, and his skin was clean and smooth.

“Bai Shuangying, I’ll trouble you again today.” His tone was light.

“Why the left leg?” Bai Shuangying asked, puzzled.

Fang Xiu had already lost his left arm. For balance, removing the right leg would make more sense.

Fang Xiu touched the smooth, intact calf. “Not the right one. It has a scar.”

Bai Shuangying: “The others won’t even taste the difference.”

Fang Xiu burst out laughing, nearly tearing up from it.

“That scar’s important. I want it to stay with me a bit longer,” he explained vaguely.

Bai Shuangying said nothing and silently accepted the bone-cleaving knife. Under the moonlight, the blade flashed cold.

…Another perfectly weighed thirteen pounds of flesh.

Unfortunately, Fang Xiu was too skinny. He couldn’t keep the kneecap. Only his left thigh was left.

Yesterday’s pain hadn’t faded, and now a new, larger wound had joined in.

Fang Xiu hissed sharply, his eyes reddening with pain. Even so, he forced himself to stay upright, wobbling but not falling.

“Cut off Shang Debao’s left leg for me. I need a prosthetic,” Fang Xiu said hoarsely, pointing at the body.

Bai Shuangying: “I can carry you.”

“Thanks, but not yet,” Fang Xiu managed a weak smile. “I’m not that pathetic just yet.”

Shang Debao’s corpse had stiffened. He’d been fairly sturdy, and his leg was a bit thicker than Fang Xiu’s. Bai Shuangying cut it to the correct length, but the girth was off.

Fang Xiu didn’t complain. He silently tore apart the left side of his pants and strapped the oversized corpse-leg to himself.

Without a knee, movement was difficult. He couldn’t bend it at all. The leg could only be dragged along the ground, providing minimal support.

The image was pitiful, which made Fang Xiu quite pleased.

If he had time tomorrow, he’d try to find a stick or something. Maybe he could use it as a cane for climbing stairs… Damn, the new wound hurt even worse than the old one.

The intense pain blurred his vision and gave him tinnitus.

Fang Xiu sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing his forehead against his ghost’s chest and abdomen, soaking in that cool comfort.

As he suspected, Bai Shuangying didn’t offer any sympathy or consolation.

An icy hand lightly touched the top of Fang Xiu’s head, hovering just close enough to feel, but never quite settling.

Then Bai Shuangying said, “I looked closely. Inside the ‘Emergency Exit’, the illusions are precise but lack any design for change. When you go back in tonight, it’ll still be the same as yesterday.”

Fang Xiu: “…Good. That saves us a lot of trouble.”

Bai Shuangying nodded.

The room fell into silence, broken only by Fang Xiu’s labored, pain-filled breathing.

Bai Shuangying reached out and untied the bandages around Fang Xiu’s left leg. The ugly corpse-leg landed on the floor with a dull sound.

Before Fang Xiu could react, Bai Shuangying scooped him up and tucked him under one arm.

Fang Xiu: “???”

Now that he’d lost twenty-six pounds of flesh, he weighed less than a hundred and thirty-two pounds. Carrying him was no different from carrying some luggage.

His ghost dumped him in the bathtub with a splash, then jumped in after him. The familiar icy water hit the wound, making Fang Xiu shudder.

Before he could speak, Bai Shuangying’s true form emerged from the water and gently covered Fang Xiu’s eyes.

Bai Shuangying: “Rest.”

With his eyes covered tightly, Fang Xiu flailed for a moment. “But we still need to help Cheng Jie catch the ghost…”

“Rest,” Bai Shuangying repeated. “This is a command from a friend.”

Friends don’t give each other commands…

Fang Xiu thought that, but still kept quiet, obediently sinking into Bai Shuangying’s body. Anyway, Cheng Jie was just next door. If he was late, she and Guan He would probably come find him.

…A short nap counts as resting, right?

Fang Xiu closed his eyes.

His two wounds were numb and cold, the pain fading into a dull ache. Surrounded by Bai Shuangying, he felt safe and relaxed.

After two days of torment, he fell asleep almost instantly.

The next moment, Bai Shuangying opened his eyes. His pale gaze turned in a certain direction, glowing faintly in the dark.

Next door.

Cheng Songyun was just about to step out when a white phantom suddenly appeared before her. She opened her mouth to scream, but caught herself. Her dead husband didn’t have such long black hair, nor was he this young or handsome.

It was Fang Xiu’s seductive ghost. What was he doing here alone?

The phantom of Bai Shuangying loomed over Cheng Songyun got straight to the point. “I’m here to teach you how to stabilize karma.”

Cheng Songyun immediately focused. “Did Fang Xiu ask you to?”

“Do you want to learn or not?” Bai Shuangying couldn’t be bothered to explain, outright ignoring her question.

“…Yes.”

A seductive ghost probably knew a thing or two about romantic bonds. Cheng Songyun figured he might actually be the right kind of expert for this.

Then Bai Shuangying said, “Tonight, you’re sleeping here. Don’t turn on the Resentful Ghost Shield.”

As he spoke, he hooked his hand, and the red karmic thread gently coiled around his elegant fingers in an intimate gesture.

Bai Shuangying continued expressionlessly. “Your husband didn’t become a ghost and still has lots of lingering karma. That means he died with strong attachments. I’ll help you identify his obsession.”

“From here on, it’s up to you.”

---

The author has something to say:

While writing this, I suddenly thought of that doodle of the little stick figure hugging a cat and escaping through the “Emergency Exit”…

It’s so funny. It fits so well.

Also, both of them could totally be the cat (???

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 52: Emergency Exit

In the time that followed, Fang Xiu had no choice but to give his ghost a crash course on modern apps.

After spending a day in the human world, Bai Shuangying caught on quickly. He believed “apps” were illusions crafted by humans using programming techniques and required a screen to manifest.

Illusions created by evil spirits consumed yin energy while those created by humans consumed electricity. Both aimed to captivate the human mind. The difference wasn’t all that great.

Fang Xiu was silent for a long while, unable to find a single point to refute.

“Not a bad spell, but the name is too peculiar.” Bai Shuangying commented, “The phone’s too small, and the illusions here are too strong. At this point, tracing by karma is more reliable… Why are you laughing?”

“No reason. Just feels like we’re real partners.”

Fang Xiu lowered his shoulder beneath the “surface” to let Bai Shuangying’s true form flow over his wound. The pain had made it burn before, but now it felt like a cold tongue was licking the injury, more soothing than a hot bath.

After a while, Bai Shuangying finally responded. “Neither of us likes this place. Naturally, we should work together.”

“How about you eat some headless spirits first?” Fang Xiu worried again, remembering his ghost hadn’t eaten in a day and a night.

The jade Buddha was too precious to use, but he could feed the small token to the meal card.

Bai Shuangying: “You’re missing limbs. You should keep it for protection.”

“No other options?” Fang Xiu sighed. “Like, maybe don’t kill anyone, just shave off a bit of their living soul?”

Bai Shuangying: “There is.”

Fang Xiu: “I knew it was—wait, what? You said there is?!”

Bai Shuangying nodded distractedly. “There are three main ways for evil spirits to consume living souls.”

“First, killing to take the soul. That’s what we’ve always done.”

“Second, setting up arrays to raise evil spirits. Practitioners can draw formations to extract essence and soul energy to nourish evil spirits, either to control them or gain protection.”

In the clear mountain woods, Bai Shuangying’s tone was calm and soft like a cold mountain spring.

Fang Xiu listened intently. “Won’t extracting living soul energy harm the body?”

“No. The soul is like the body. So long as the core isn’t harmed, it can recover.” Bai Shuangying said, “Compared to the body, this is like ‘donating blood’.”

Fang Xiu was tempted. “Then I could…”

“The technique is complex, and you know nothing of the metaphysics,” Bai Shuangying interrupted mercilessly.

Fang Xiu: “…” There’s even a technical barrier?!

Depressed, Fang Xiu asked, “What’s the third method?”

Bai Shuangying: “Third is dual cultivation through intercourse. Evil spirits use sex to harvest essence… Don’t humans love fox spirits and sexy ghosts?”

Before Fang Xiu could react, Bai Shuangying added objectively, “This one you could actually do.”

Fang Xiu froze for two seconds before diving headfirst into Bai Shuangying’s form.

Seeing him curl up into a ball and grow hotter, Bai Shuangying force-cooled him for several seconds. Fang Xiu eventually stuck his head back out.

“I’ll destroy Huanxi E soon. I promise.”

Bai Shuangying looked confused. “What are you so nervous about? I’m not a lust spirit. I won’t do anything to you…”

But before he could finish, Fang Xiu plunged back in, even hotter than before.

……

By noon, Fang Xiu’s body temperature finally returned to normal.

He ate as usual, then fed the mushroom trio. Only Cheng Songyun and Guan He came to get food today. Jia Xu, Blondie, and Mei Lan didn’t show.

Fang Xiu mussed his hair in the mirror, rumpled his clothes, and perfected his “vagrant” disguise before picking up two roast chickens and knocking on Jia Xu’s door.

Bai Shuangying followed, a bit puzzled at what scheme Fang Xiu was brewing.

Jia Xu answered himself, reeking of meat and alcohol. Seeing Fang Xiu’s empty sleeve, a flicker of triumph passed through his eyes.

“Oh no, Fang Xiu, what happened to you? How’d you end up like this?” Jia Xu clicked his tongue sympathetically and stepped aside.

Inside were Blondie and Mei Lan. Jia Xu’s room had power and was brightly lit with various lamps even during the day.

The air conditioning was blasting despite the mild weather.

A large TV played games with booming speakers.

Blondie yelled while holding a controller, surrounded by open snack bags.

Mei Lan sat at the table eating. There were flowers in a vase, several bottles of red wine uncorked, and a spread of elaborate dishes that were Eastern and Western cuisines mixed together, barely fitting on the table.

Seeing Fang Xiu injured, a flicker of guilt crossed her eyes.

Jia Xu took the roast chickens and casually stuffed them into the fridge.

“Sit, sit.” He handed Fang Xiu a list. “Here’s that premium ‘Service Menu’ I promised to show you.”

Fang Xiu took the menu. It now looked anything but tacky, bound in leather with elegant gold embossing.

[Huanxi World Premium VIP Service Menu]

◆ One Night of Pleasure: 100 Chips

◆ Top-shelf Liquor & Tobacco: 100 Chips

◆ Gold & Jewelry: 100 Chips

◆ Room Unlock: 1000 Chips [Redeemed]

◆ Unlimited Premium Meals: 1000 Chips [Redeemed]

◆ 13 Pounds of Human Flesh: 1000 Chips

◆ Perfect Companion: 10,000 Chips / Each

◆ Mansion of Your Choice: 10,000 Chips / Each

◆ Recreate Loved Ones: 10,000 Chips / Each

~Special Offer~

High-End VIP trades: No fees!

Special tools & scales available in-room!

Special needs (e.g., pets, prosthetics) available at the service desk!

Fang Xiu read it carefully.

The food, meal, and clothing options were gone. In their place, offerings requiring tens of thousands of chips had been added.

In other words, one could now fulfill every desire short of “travel” with enough chips, even recreating loved ones from memory.

Jia Xu: “Pretty impressive, right? Even I was shocked.”

His tone didn’t sound “shocked” but rather smug.

Fang Xiu smirked. “Didn’t you only have 1296 chips? How’d you redeem 2000 chips’ worth of services?”

“Jia Ge’s magic item is amazing.” Blondie paused his game.

“Uncle Hou—the fat guy in the foyer—took a liking to him. Called it making friends, and just unlocked unlimited meals for Jia Ge, no payment needed.”

Fang Xiu simply replied with an “oh”.

Blondie: “Hey man, don’t take this the wrong way, but we’ve been eating your roast chicken and snacks nonstop. We’re kinda sick of it now. These meals are top tier. You can order whatever.”

He sighed with envy. “Too bad Uncle Hou didn’t like my sexy drawing. Dude redeemed two ‘Perfect Companions’ who stay with him 24/7. What a life…”

Jia Xu coughed. “I only unlocked room functions. Now I have power, water, internet. I still have 296 chips left. Uncle Hou gave me 4 more to round it up to 300.”

Fang Xiu: “So… Are you planning to live here long-term?”

Jia Xu didn’t answer directly, instead nodding toward Fang Xiu’s left shoulder:

“That injury is from breaking a taboo, huh?”

“Yes.” Fang Xiu didn’t hide the pain and cold sweat.

“I told you yesterday… Even if you couldn’t accept it right away, you should’ve at least gambled once.” Jia Xu sighed loudly. “We’re teammates. If you’re worried about losing your chips, I can lend you some.”

Fang Xiu asked bluntly, “You gamble a lot outside too?”

“Mostly online. Been to a few casinos in Country A.”

Jia Xu held a cigar in his mouth and lit it. “Work is stressful. I just play a few rounds to blow off steam. I’m good with numbers.”

Fang Xiu stared silently.

Uncomfortable under the gaze, Jia Xu added, “Uncle Hou said you’re welcome to borrow chips. He won’t even charge interest. You’ve got 24 hours. Your arm can still be reclaimed.”

“How much did you say?” Fang Xiu suddenly asked.

“Wha-What…”

“You’ve already explained our magic weapons. Uncle Hou knows who I am. So, you’ve probably shared our skills and pasts too, right?”

Blondie interjected, “Hey, hey! Don’t accuse Jia Ge like that! He just called our stuff ‘ghost techniques’. He didn’t go into details…”

In the first two rituals, he and Jia Xu had less experience than Mei Lan.

Having suffered setbacks with Lao Jin, Jia Xu was playing it vague this time.

Of course, he hadn’t admitted Fang Xiu was the team’s de facto leader and just said Fang Xiu was smart.

“Uncle Hou said you can come over anytime. He said since we’re all Jia Ge’s friends, he’ll treat us well.”

Blondie returned to his game. “I think this place is great… I’m living it up.”

Jia Xu stayed silent, just watching Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu had pretty much guessed it. Uncle Hou sent them to test the waters.

“You’re giving up on the first day? Not even gonna try?” Fang Xiu raised his voice, feigning irritation. “We’re here to break the E, not vacation. So, you three are giving up on returning to the human world?”

Blondie: “Dude, look at your state. What are you saying?”

Jia Xu exhaled a puff of smoke. “I think we should talk about this more. Just because you lost an arm doesn’t mean you need to go all-in.”

“Don’t be stubborn tonight. I can introduce you to Uncle Hou. Even if you don’t want to meet him, at least win once. There’s still time…”

Then, in an unusual display of softness, he said, “If you don’t know the rules, I can teach you. You’re smart. Winning should be easy.”

Fang Xiu said nothing.

“I’ll think about it. No promises.” He replied after a while.

Jia Xu nodded with a knowing smile.

“So, what about you three? If I don’t go to the casino, will you help me tonight?” Fang Xiu asked, “I’ve made some discoveries I can share. We still have enough human meat that you won’t need to break taboos.”

Jia Xu smiled helplessly and refused.

Blondie pretended not to hear.

Mei Lan hesitated but said nothing in the end.

Before leaving, Fang Xiu glanced at the feast-laden table.

Jia Xu kindly asked, “Want to take some with you?”

Fang Xiu shook his head and stood outside the door, looking at Jia Xu.

“We’re teammates, so here’s a tip: better not use that Luck Borrowing Dice too much.”

Jia Xu grinned. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

Fang Xiu was silent for a few seconds, then shut the door.

As soon as it closed, Fang Xiu covered his mouth and gagged.

Bai Shuangying reached for his forehead, but Fang Xiu gently stopped him.

“…I’m fine,” Fang Xiu wiped his face. “Just a little nauseous.”

Bai Shuangying was confused. Jia Xu and Blondie had always been unpleasant. Why such a reaction now?

Then he realized. “You sensed it.”

It was a statement, not a question.

Fang Xiu replied weakly, “Yeah. But don’t bring it up…especially not in front of Song Zheng and the others.”

He shut his eyes, trying to forget the image of that table of food.

In Weishan Village, the food came from offerings preserved by yin energy.

In the Mid-Autumn E, the illusion food was inedible.

But here, corrupted by Huanxi E, everything felt real.

Illusions could distort hunger, temperature, and even give you dreams of spring nights, but they couldn’t fill your stomach. “Unlimited gourmet meals”? Really? Whatever you wanted to eat, you can have it? How was that possible?

…Yet people survived here long-term, which meant they must have eaten something that existed in reality.

…And there was only one thing that could be supplied here continuously.

“13 pounds of meat lasts quite a while,” Fang Xiu muttered. “Hope they don’t eat me tomorrow. How creepy.”

……

That night.

While waiting in the foyer, glances kept coming from Uncle Hou’s side.

Fang Xiu squatted in a corner, putting on a pained, conflicted look and stealing glances toward Uncle Hou.

Cheng Songyun and Guan He silently stood by, with Fang Xiu specifically asking Guan He to keep his distance.

Jia Xu was chatting animatedly with a young man wearing glasses near Uncle Hou and didn’t try to persuade Fang Xiu.

At 6:30, the crowd surged into the casino.

Fang Xiu’s group remained in the foyer, along with Song Zheng.

Once it emptied, Fang Xiu’s fragile expression vanished instantly.

“We’re set.” Song Zheng said. “Xiao Tian and Xiao Li are tracking Jia Xu. That guy’s cozying up with A’Qing, so he’s easy to spot.”

“With Xiao Tian on it, he won’t get away. But why are you watching Jia Xu? Isn’t he your teammate?”

“Think of him as a barometer for fortune,” Fang Xiu smiled.

Song Zheng didn’t get it but didn’t pry.

He looked toward the dazzling casino gate. “If I follow you tonight, we’ll need to pay 13 pounds of human meat. Sure about that?”

Even though his instincts weren’t on alert, he had to ask. Fang Xiu had provided his entire group with food and water, so he didn’t mind breaking the taboo once. One corpse wasn’t enough to share, and Fang Xiu had actually taken out 13 pounds of meat to hire him.

“We won’t be here long.” Fang Xiu winked.

The four of them approached the narrow door labeled “Emergency Exit”.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fang Xiu saw the casino greeters. Not only were they not tense, but their smiles grew even wider.

Fang Xiu retracted his gaze and looked at the narrow door.

It was tiny, no bigger than a bathroom door, and pitch-black beyond the threshold.

The Huanxi E was a gambling app.

The casino and apartments were gambling scenes.

So what did this door represent?

Song Zheng was also scrutinizing it. “I have a bad feeling…”

“This is just the beginning,” Fang Xiu said darkly. “The Huanxi E is powerful. There will be traps. All of you, stay sharp. Don’t trust your senses too much.”

Everyone nodded.

Cheng Songyun clutched her prayer beads and Guan He put on his spirit-vision blindfold.

Curious, Song Zheng examined them, then flipped his left hand.

A brass seismoscope appeared on the back of it. It was small and hovered above the back of his hand. Its eight dragons pointed in eight directions, unmoving as Song Zheng shifted.

Seeing Fang Xiu looking intrigued, Song Zheng explained, “This is my reward for breaking an E, the ‘Murder-Intent Seismoscope’.”

“If anyone nearby harbors murderous intent toward me, a ball will drop from the matching dragon’s mouth and sound an alert.”

“Great choice.” Fang Xiu raised an eyebrow. This skill paired perfectly with Song Zheng’s enhanced intuition.

Song Zheng edged the device toward the door. There was no reaction.

Relieved, he said, “Let’s go in. I’ll take the lead.”

“You two take the middle. I’ll cover the rear,” Fang Xiu instructed.

Song Zheng took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness.

Right before entering, Fang Xiu looked back towards the casino. Seeing that they had no intention of entering, the two greeters were about to close the gate. However, while their head remained still, their face kept twisting to the point where it moved to the side and kept staring at him.

Seeing Song Zheng enter, the smiles on their faces became even brighter. Their two beautiful faces became completely distorted, their eyes narrowed to the point where it almost disappeared, and the corners of their mouths were raised so high it came to their cheekbones.

No human could smile like that.

Fang Xiu took a breath and crossed the threshold.

As soon as he and Bai Shuangying had just stepped in, the door slammed shut. Instantly, the space was pitch-black, filled only with the scent of dust and decay.

Fang Xiu raised his remaining right hand, igniting a red flame.

The ghost-fire illuminated four faces. After observing the surroundings, everyone’s faces were even gloomier than the environment.

Afraid of losing his human, Bai Shuangying pinched the hem of Fang Xiu’s T-shirt.

No wonder. This place was bizarre.

It looked like a “masterpiece” made by “a friend who studied animation for three years”.

Twisting staircases defied gravity and logic, like Escher and Penrose gone wrong, without a hint of artistry.

They were at the bottom. Ahead were three or four staircases leading up, each splitting endlessly.

The ghost-fire didn’t reach far. Who knew where they led?

Song Zheng hissed, “Shit, is this luck-based too?”

How long would it take to reach the end?! And these were illusions… If they stepped wrong in the real world and fell… Well, that would be quite fun.

Guan He no longer reflexively looked to Fang Xiu. He tried to analyze. “Like the casino, we probably have five hours. If we don’t clear it in time, we’ll be forced to exit.”

“These beads can’t suppress the illusion.” Cheng Songyun tightly clenched her beads as she gritted her teeth. “This is ridiculous.”

Their brief hope was crushed by this chaotic scene.

No wonder no one explored here. Compared to this hellhole, gambling was easier.

Fang Xiu: “No wonder the ‘Emergency Exit’ wasn’t lit. Turns out it’s not safe at all.”

Then he realized something. “Song Zheng, you guys never entered this before?”

“No,” Song Zheng said honestly. “We saw other teams try. The lucky ones lost half, the unlucky ones were wiped out.”

“Even with intuition and luck, it’s not worth gambling our lives.”

“But you came in now,” Guan He said. With Fang Xiu here, he wasn’t scared.

Song Zheng shrugged. “We’re running out of chips. Can’t just wait to die. My intuition’s quiet. Should we just pick a path?”

The four stood in silence at the foot of the stairs.

Fang Xiu leaned close to Bai Shuangying and whispered, “Can you dispel this illusion?”

“This place is different from the guest rooms. The Huanxi E’s power is very strong,” Bai Shuangying explained.

He could force it, but doing so meant confronting the Huanxi E directly and drawing the Underworld’s attention.

And Bai Shuangying wasn’t in the habit of sacrificing himself to warm humans. Letting Fang Xiu soak in his true form was already the limit.

“…However, I do have a suggestion.”

His pale eyes slowly turned to look at Cheng Songyun.

---

The author has something to say:

Oh, of course they’ll end up using the third method to feed his ghost.

That’s the real Unlimited Premium Meals. Fang Xiu eats enough for the both of them~

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 51: The Thread of Karma

After returning to her “own home” yesterday, Cheng Songyun’s mood was indescribable.

Everything looked just as she remembered. The scenery outside the window was exactly the same as in her memories. She could even see cars coming and going downstairs.

The paper figure Dian Wu had claimed, “The room guarantees physical and mental well-being,” but Cheng Songyun found it absurd. The confusion between illusion and reality was spine-chilling. For a moment, she nearly doubted her own sanity, thinking the entire sacrificial ritual had been a delusion.

If not for the chunks of human flesh Fang Xiu had given her, now lying on the coffee table, she might really have lost her mind.

At midnight, a handsome and composed waiter knocked politely on her door and collected the human meat.

Afterward, Cheng Songyun sank once again into a fog of doubt, occasionally opening the door to confirm that she wasn’t truly at home.

After tossing and turning for half the night, she fell asleep sitting by the door.

Half-awake, she heard sounds in the living room. It was footsteps and someone sighing.

The sigh was terribly familiar… right, it was her husband Sun Jinfeng… Lao Sun…

…But Lao Sun was dead, indirectly killed by her.

Cheng Songyun abruptly snapped awake and looked toward the living room.

Her deceased husband stood in front of the sofa, black blood dripping from the back of his head.

“Where’s the money?” His tone was flat in the darkness. “The money I left here… Where is it?”

This must be a nightmare, Cheng Songyun thought. She swallowed hard and shut her eyes tightly.

The footsteps drew nearer. The air grew colder and colder. Finally, the chaotic noises stopped. Cheng Songyun exhaled in relief and opened her eyes…

Sun Jinfeng’s distorted face was inches from hers, his murky eyes locked onto her.

“Where’s the money?”

He asked, “Where’s the money? Where’s the money? Where—”

By the end, he sounded confused, as if he had forgotten what “money” even meant. He simply stared at Cheng Songyun, silently mouthing words, his teeth stained with dark blood.

Too terrified to even scream, Cheng Songyun flailed her arms in panic, trying to push away this horrifying hallucination, or nightmare, or whatever it was. But she couldn’t touch him at all.

“You’re already dead! You’re already dead…” she cried, clutching her head as blackness clouded her vision. She even forgot to use her ghost shield.

…Then Cheng Songyun woke up, not knowing if she’d come out of a dream or a fainting spell.

Dawn had broken outside the window. The clock in the house read past 4:30 AM.

There were no ghosts in front of her and none in the living room either.

Looking at the familiar decor, Cheng Songyun fell into momentary confusion. Was it all just a dream? Did the sacrificial ritual really exist? Was she not actually schizophrenic?

She propped herself up on the shoe cabinet near the door, swaying as she stood. A family photo of the three of them still sat there, their smiling faces now painfully jarring.

Cheng Songyun, trembling, instinctively picked up the photo.

In the reflection on the glass frame, she saw a face still resting on her left shoulder… her dead husband’s face.

His facial features twitched constantly, his mouth opening and closing erratically, teeth clicking with a sharp tap tap sound.

That sound stabbed into her left ear. Before her brain could even react, her body bolted from the room.

She’d rather stay in that endless hallway than step into that room again.

So, Cheng Songyun sat in front of Fang Xiu’s door until sunrise.

……

Guan He shivered slightly as he listened. “Auntie Cheng, after you hand over the meat tonight, come to my room, okay…”

His room had been perfectly peaceful. The only reason he couldn’t sleep was the sheer mental shock of the day. Compared to Cheng Songyun, his insomnia was downright mundane.

Fang Xiu, on the other hand, was intrigued after hearing her story. “Three rituals now, and I’ve yet to see such an old-school ghost story! I’ll go check it out later, maybe I can catch it.”

He sounded enthusiastic, like what haunted Cheng Songyun’s home wasn’t a ghost, but a cockroach.

Cheng Songyun felt conflicted. “……”

With just a few words, all her terror had become powerlessness.

But maybe he was right. Here, evil spirits could be caught. There was no need to be scared. Everyone just needed to work together and catch them…

Seeing Cheng Songyun’s mood improve, Guan He tried to lighten the atmosphere. “I couldn’t sleep either last night. I kept thinking about taboo violations. Fang Ge, I found a loophole!”

Fang Xiu: “Let’s hear it.”

Guan He wiped his face. “You produce enough food for ten to fifteen days, sell it on the Huanxi World platform to Song Zheng and the others for just 1 chip… The trade completes, so the transaction counts.”

“Then you have them find a criminal to kill, and they give the meat to you for free. Since the food transaction is over and can’t be counted again, I think it works.”

He’d thought so hard trying to find a loophole that his brain nearly short-circuited.

Fang Xiu couldn’t help patting his shoulder. “Nice. You’ve got potential.”

Cheng Songyun’s eyes lit up. “That could work?”

Fang Xiu gave a meaningful smile and continued, “If someone loses all hope and decides to storm the casino and go on a killing spree, that wouldn’t count as violating taboos either.”

Guan He’s expression slowly stiffened as realization dawned.

“…The taboos are fixed, but people are alive,” Song Zheng said, wiping his mouth after finishing his meal. “Fang Xiu really could sell us a ton of food for 1 chip and indirectly get us to kill. The taboo might be fooled, but you think people don’t understand what’s going on?”

Guan He’s face turned bitter. “So it’s still no use…”

Song Zheng sighed. “Since we’ve eaten, I’ll tell you about Uncle Hou.”

“If someone kills inside the casino, they’ll be killed on the spot by Uncle Hou’s people. Fang Xiu had a perfect excuse on his first day here, so they held back… But we’ve been here a month. If we suddenly start killing, we’ll be shot dead.”

Guan He clamped his lips and looked down.

“Think about it. If people just couldn’t win bets, they’d either sell their life or borrow chips from Uncle Hou… Trying to exploit loopholes for human flesh is way more complicated.”

“Only those who break taboos by not gambling would go that far. Not gambling means they’re trying to undo the E. That’s why Uncle Hou’s crew is so sensitive to ‘murder’.”

Song Zheng gave a faintly mocking smile. “Actually, most people here are sensitive to that.”

After listening, Guan He was stunned.

When he first spotted the theoretical loophole, he’d been ecstatic, but it was still useless.

Now that he thought about it, Fang Xiu probably guessed the situation early on. That’s why he killed someone immediately on day one. Now that Uncle Hou’s crew had their eye on them, the “revenge” excuse couldn’t be used again.

Fang Xiu choosing to act brazenly and even get hurt was likely to make Uncle Hou let his guard down, treating it as a naive “newbie trying to lift the E out of habit”.

…Only this way would Uncle Hou’s group stay out of it.

They’d be glad to let Fang Xiu suffer. Ideally, they’d scare off all the fools who dreamed of undoing the E.

The more Guan He thought about it, the lower his head sank.

Fang Xiu patted his back. “Relax. You’ve done way better than in the last two rituals. We adults aren’t all dead yet. What’s the rush?”

Watching this, Song Zheng’s expression softened. “I know more about Uncle Hou. Feel free to ask.”

Fang Xiu touched his wound. “No need.”

Song Zheng raised an eyebrow.

Fang Xiu: “I don’t want to play by his rules.”

Time was precious. Whether it was the casino’s rules or society’s, they were just pointless distractions.

He had only one goal: find and destroy the Huanxi E.

…Because every extra day he stayed here, he’d take another wound. And Bai Shuangying would go hungry another day.

Fang Xiu quietly stewed, then turned to Song Zheng. “If we’re going to cooperate, I need your side to fully comply. No objections?”

Xiao Tian and Xiao Li both turned to Song Zheng.

Song Zheng chugged a drink and exhaled loudly. “I already said, just keep feeding us.”

Then he smiled. “Oh right, my Underworld blessing is ‘enhanced intuition’.”

Xiao Li was shocked. “Bro, you just tell them outright?”

“Because this time my gut feeling’s great,” Song Zheng said. “You guys too. Spill it. Can’t freeload the food.”

Xiao Li wiped his mouth and nodded. “My ability’s ‘enhanced strength’… Oh, and A’Qing had ‘enhanced intellect’. The guy he took away had ‘enhanced negotiation’.”

He casually sold out his ex-teammates.

Xiao Tian put down her pastry. “Mine’s ‘enhanced luck.’”

Guan He couldn’t help blurting out, “Huh, enhanced luck…?”

With that kind of OP ability, Xiao Tian didn’t go gamble? Jia Xu had already strutted around just from using the Luck Borrowing Dice.

Xiao Tian looked at him, smiling with crescent eyes. “Kiddo, do you think ‘winning chips in this hellhole’ is lucky, or ‘surviving until now and finding a turning point’ is lucky?”

Guan He mulled it over.

Cheng Songyun was much more decisive. “So what’s the plan this morning. Do we keep exploring?”

Fang Xiu: “I was thinking…”

Bai Shuangying: “I want to inspect all your rooms first.”

He manifested and stood right beside Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu’s eyes widened in shock. The others weren’t just shocked, they were stunned.

A man in white appeared out of nowhere. Song Zheng jumped back in terror and nearly knocked over Xiao Li. Xiao Tian stared at Bai Shuangying’s face, her half-eaten snack dropping from her mouth.

“Wow, I really am lucky,” after a while she said, genuinely touched.

Fang Xiu awkwardly stepped forward, trying to block the taller Bai Shuangying. “This is my ghost, Bai Shuangying.”

Bai Shuangying had zero interest in socializing. He coldly repeated, “I want to inspect your rooms.”

As if everyone in front of him were no more than insects in autumn.

Fang Xiu tugged on his sleeve and whispered, “Why’d you come out?”

Bai Shuangying glanced at him. “You expect me to act out a ritual with you helping from the side? You’re unwell. Save your energy.”

Fang Xiu paused, then smiled. “Alright.”

If he remembered correctly, this was the first time Bai Shuangying had actively volunteered to investigate.

Fang Xiu had planned to focus on exploration at night. He had plans for midday, but nothing for the morning. Now that his own ghost had spoken up, he was happy to go along.

Of the six present, only Cheng Songyun’s and Xiao Li’s rooms had karmic traces.

Cheng Songyun’s husband, Sun Jinfeng, was a gambler. Xiao Li’s cousin gambled online.

Xiao Li had lent his cousin a lot of money, and they always fought. One day while driving, they argued again and got into a struggle. They crashed and the cousin died on the spot.

There was no surveillance, and Xiao Li was badly injured. The incident was ruled an accident in the living world, but the Underworld still counted it as a blood debt.

Everyone in Song Zheng’s group had public blood debts, so they didn’t mind talking about it.

“…He threw the first punch, but I also didn’t hit the brakes. I let go of the wheel,” Xiao Li said. “Our whole group is like this.”

Xiao Tian sighed. “My blood debt happened when I was four. I cosplayed a magical girl with a friend. I pulled her to jump from the second floor. I landed in a bush, she broke her neck…”

Then she looked at Guan He. “You guys have a mix of old and young. Should be similar, right?”

Guan He glanced at Fang Xiu, his gaze shifty. “…Sort of.”

Fang Xiu was busy inspecting Xiao Li’s room.

It had belonged to his cousin, a filthy dump no one would buy. The room reeked, and the sheets were greasy enough to outline a faint yellowish human shape. Xiao Li had been sleeping on the floor in Song Zheng’s room to avoid this cesspit.

Since he didn’t live here, he couldn’t say whether anything paranormal had happened in it.

Bai Shuangying looked at him, then pointed to the trash-strewn bed. “Go sit there.”

Xiao Li hesitated. “Do I have to?”

Bai Shuangying stared at him silently. Xiao Li drew a sharp breath and reluctantly sat down.

As soon as he did, Bai Shuangying waved the Peach Bone Evil, and a blood-red thread of karma appeared.

It floated endlessly in the grimy rental room, one end attached to Xiao Li’s back, the other vanishing into the crack of the door.

Xiao Li jumped. “What is this?”

Bai Shuangying: “You’ve been entangled in your cousin’s karma. Try grabbing the thread.”

“Why is it red? Gross*.” Xiao Li grumbled and reached out.

*Clarity: He’s referring to the red thread of fate that is believed to link two people that are destined to be together. It’s gross because, well, that’s his cousin and two he didn’t even like him as family let alone as more.

As soon as his fingers pinched it, the red thread crumbled like a soaked tissue.

“Not solid enough,” Bai Shuangying said.

Xiao Li: “Yeah, we were like 10% family, 90% financial disputes.”

Bai Shuangying didn’t respond and just turned and left.

Rooms without karmic entanglement were like Fang Xiu’s, white karmic threads so faint they couldn’t be grasped. Still, Bai Shuangying inspected each one.

At last, they arrived at Cheng Songyun’s room.

It was warm and well-lit, without a trace of the horrors she described. Bai Shuangying gave it a quick once-over and told her to sit on the sofa.

Cheng Songyun paled. “That’s where he liked to sit…”

Bai Shuangying summoned the karmic thread and said simply, “Grab it.”

Cheng Songyun reached out and grasped the red thread connected to her chest. It squirmed like an earthworm, then slipped through her palm and vanished.

…But it didn’t break.

Bai Shuangying looked up. “You’re resisting it.”

Cheng Songyun was about to reply when Bai Shuangying vanished into the air.

She fell silent. This glamorous ghost could speak, but he either stayed invisible or monologued, so it was hard to communicate. She had no idea how Fang Xiu dealt with him day-to-day.

Thinking of her own vengeful ghost that only did psychic attacks, Cheng Songyun sighed.

I hope Xiao Fang isn’t under too much pressure, she thought.

……

After inspecting the rooms, the two groups parted ways. Since they’d just established cooperation, Song Zheng wanted to debrief his team privately. Fang Xiu understood.

He scheduled a midday meetup and returned to his mountain-view suite.

As soon as the door closed, he leaned happily against Bai Shuangying.

His wound was against his icy ghost while the sunlight streamed on his back. It was the most effective painkiller on earth. The floral scent of Bai Shuangying’s body even relaxed him for a few seconds.

Bai Shuangying, finding the posture uncomfortable, simply picked Fang Xiu up and placed him in the bathtub. Then, from the chest down, he returned to his true form and enveloped Fang Xiu.

The two sat facing each other at either end of the tub, shoulders and heads above water, like they were undergoing some strange medicinal bath.

Half-submerged in Bai Shuangying’s body, Fang Xiu’s ears flushed red. Under the sunlight, the tips glowed faintly, veins clearly visible.

“So, so—what did you find?”

After a few deep breaths, Fang Xiu managed to stay calm.

Bai Shuangying: “These rooms have housed many gamblers. They gambled day and night, forming deep karmic bonds.”

He continued, “Threads of karma can’t drift in from nowhere. They extend from the Huanxi E. The underworld assigned these karma-stained rooms not for ‘well-being’, but for another reason.”

Fang Xiu: “I figured. Cheng Jie was scared out of her mind.”

Not even a dog would live in Xiao Li’s cousin’s room. It was such a dump it felt like it could give you a disease just by looking.

Then he suddenly realized, “If the red thread leads to the Huanxi E, couldn’t Cheng Jie follow it to find Huanxi E?”

“Yes, if she can stabilize the thread,” Bai Shuangying said firmly. “As long as karma is solid, the two ends of the thread will naturally draw toward each other. The Underworld assigned ‘karmic rooms’ to push sacrifices to lift the curse sooner.”

The Underworld trying to mess with karma in front of him? Too naive.

If not for the chains restraining him, he could spot the Huanxi E in an instant. Sadly, he’d only broken nine of them, which was only enough to reveal only the simplest karma.

Fang Xiu fell into thought again, idly toying with Bai Shuangying’s body.

Bai Shuangying tilted his head slightly. “What did you figure out?”

Last night, when karma came up, Fang Xiu had gone quiet for a long time.

“Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Fang Xiu asked.

Bai Shuangying: “Bad.”

Let’s see how bad it really is.

Fang Xiu: “If even the Underworld has stepped in, then this E must be extremely well-hidden.”

“Typical. What’s the good news?”

Fang Xiu: “I think I’ve figured out what the Huanxi E really is.”

Bai Shuangying: “?”

Fang Xiu instinctively sank down, blowing two bubbles in the liquid. Then he saw Bai Shuangying’s unreadable expression and realized he wasn’t taking a bath.

“Sorry, sorry. It was accident.”

He touched his lips, which still felt cool.

After a long cough, he continued, “Whether it’s intelligence or complexity, the Huanxi E far surpasses the Weishan E or the Mid-Autumn E.”

“Huanxi World binds countless gamblers’ karma. It has an absurd number of projects. Every service worker has perfect looks and exaggerated bodies, plus customized sales pitches… Most importantly, you just confirmed, gamblers actually gamble in these rooms.”

“I think… the Huanxi E’s true form is a gambling app.”

---

The author has something to say:

Fang Xiu: Not only am I not stressed, I actually find it incredibly relaxing. (sniff sniff own ghost)

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 50: A Gentle Breeze Comes Slowly

Fang Xiu took Shang Debao’s corpse out of the qiankun pouch and laid it flat on the floor.

Nearly half the walls of the mountain-view suite were floor-to-ceiling windows. Bright moonlight flooded the room. Under the cold glow, Fang Xiu decisively raised the bone-cutting knife and brought it down.

Thud!

The first cut severed the corpse’s hand. Seeing the cross-section, Fang Xiu let out a curious hum.

The blade was extraordinarily sharp so the severed surface was cut clean. Fresh muscle and bone were exposed, yet not a single drop of blood flowed. It was as if what he’d just chopped wasn’t flesh and bone, but finely crafted wax.

Too bad he’d killed Shang Debao. Fang Xiu couldn’t ask how it felt.

Still, he had suspected the bone-cutting knife would have special effects.

From the ritual’s standpoint, it surely hoped the sacrifices would live longer, to contribute more karma and flesh. If a sacrifice died from blood loss the first time they broke a taboo, it’d be a guaranteed lose-lose.

Fang Xiu worked like a skilled butcher. He quickly hacked off 26 lbs. of meat, split it into two portions, and prepared to give them to Guan He and Cheng Songyun. He only used a bit more than one and a half arms; the rest of the corpse he returned to the pouch.

After tidying up, Fang Xiu compared the knife against his own left arm.

He was 1.8 meters tall but weighed less than 160 lbs., so even thinner than the corpse. He wasn’t even sure if one of his arms weighed 13 lbs.

Besides…

“Bai Shuangying, if I chop off my left arm, will the anomaly skill still work?”

Fang Xiu was worried. That paper figure had printed the Bagua symbols on his left arm.

Bai Shuangying silently approached, his fingertips pressing against Fang Xiu’s left arm. The “Kan” and “Li” symbols immediately surfaced, circling around his finger.

The cold fingertip glided along the skin, from forearm to shoulder, then from shoulder to collarbone. When Bai Shuangying’s finger pressed against Fang Xiu’s neck, he didn’t move a muscle.

He wanted to say, “that’s enough,” but for some reason didn’t open his mouth.

So the fingertip kept traveling—over his throat, chin, and finally rested on his left temple. Fang Xiu felt warmth where it touched, the symbols presumably reabsorbing into the skin.

But every place the finger had passed still burned, even more than the temple. It was bizarre, considering how cold the ghost’s fingertips were.

Fang Xiu slightly tilted his head, meeting Bai Shuangying’s eyes up close.

Bai Shuangying met his gaze for a moment. His pale lips parted slightly. “You said you wanted to leave your head for last, so I moved it to your head.”

“Mmhm, very fitting.”

The taboo loomed and tension ran high, yet Fang Xiu felt like laughing.

He rolled up his sleeve and handed the bone-cutting knife over with both hands. “Do me a favor. I can’t control the angle or strength properly. If I don’t cut through in one go, it’ll really hurt.”

Bai Shuangying looked down at the knife, its blade faintly reflecting the moonlight outside.

“You can ask another human,” he said quietly.

Fang Xiu shook his head. “Xiao Guan’s still underage, and Cheng Jie is too soft-hearted. She wouldn’t be quick or clean… Come on, we don’t have much time.”

His tone was calm, like asking someone to pass him a cup of water.

Bai Shuangying took the knife. It had just cut through a corpse yet bore no blood or flesh. He lightly ran a finger across the blade, then paused. “This blade isn’t only enchanted to stop bleeding, it also carries a curse that intensifies pain.”

He hesitated for two seconds. “If you just want the arm removed, I can use Peach Bone Evil.”

It was rare for his ghost to make suggestions. Fang Xiu paused, then smiled. “No. It’s only the first day. I can’t let anyone notice something’s off.”

“Whether it’s the wound or my reaction to breaking a taboo, it has to look natural. Actually, the more pathetic, the better.”

Then he repeated, “Time’s short. Do it…”

Swish.

Before he finished, his left arm flew off. Bai Shuangying struck quickly and steadily, the pain didn’t even register for several seconds.

The pale arm rolled twice on the floor, the fingers still trembling slightly.

Expressionless, Bai Shuangying picked it up and, mimicking Fang Xiu, placed it on the scale.

13 lbs. Not a gram more or less.

Fang Xiu hadn’t moved a step, but his knees buckled. Cold sweat soaked his T-shirt.

The wound had been cursed, and the searing pain far exceeded expectation. It felt less like losing an arm and more like having a palm-sized nail torn out alive.

Fang Xiu, practiced in suppressing screams and groans, couldn’t stop the sweat or his rapid breathing. He instinctively bent forward, barely able to stay upright.

Bai Shuangying slowly set down the knife, saying nothing.

Fifteen minutes to midnight, a knock came, right on time.

Fang Xiu instantly straightened like nothing had happened and cheerfully went to open the door.

His sleeve covered the gory wound; the shadows masked his pale face. Other than missing an arm and sweating a bit, he looked just the same as usual.

Guan He and Cheng Songyun entered. Their gazes locked immediately on his empty left sleeve, each showing their own brand of worry.

Fang Xiu: “What, expecting a public performance? I charge admission for those.”

Before they could speak, he went on quickly, “Come grab your meat and head back to your rooms to rest. We’ll find Song Zheng in the morning.”

Guan He: “Fang Ge… does it hurt?”

He stared at the deflated sleeve, not even noticing the severed flesh on the ground.

Fang Xiu smiled. “It stung during the chop. It’s better now. Off you go, don’t risk breaking a taboo.”

Guan He gathered the heap of arm meat, forcing himself to look at it like making a decision.

“…Fang Ge, I’ve decided. I won’t gamble.”

Cheng Songyun bit her lip. “Xiao Fang… thank you.”

Fang Xiu kept smiling. “It’s nothing.”

Once the door shut, he instantly slumped against it, sliding to the floor.

Good thing he hadn’t asked them to break the taboo too. This pain was insane. Like fire constantly searing his wound.

Now he understood why Song Zheng had warned against it so many times.

The seemingly mild “fail and suffer harm” clause was, in truth, excruciating, even for someone used to pain.

The ritual really went all-out to lure them into the casino.

At the stroke of midnight, another knock came.

This time, the visitor was a handsome waiter. Broad shoulders, long legs, perfect smile with eight teeth, he looked like a stock image of happiness. Definitely from Huanxi World.

He pushed a gleaming golden cart that was empty on top.

“Good evening, Mr. Fang. I’m here to collect your 13 lbs. of human meat.”

He beamed. “Please note the weight. No refunds for extra, no credit for less!”

Fang Xiu didn’t bother talking to the illusion. He pointed at the arm on the scale. “Take it.”

The waiter wasn’t annoyed. He politely retrieved the arm and sniffed it in front of Fang Xiu.

“No scent of transaction. It’s verified.”

He smiled and placed the arm into the cart.

Fang Xiu expected him to leave, but the waiter stayed, grinning ear to ear:

“Here’s the deal, Mr. Fang. We’ll store your 13 lbs. of meat for 24 hours.”

“If you order 13 lbs. of human meat within that time, we’ll restore your body for free, and the pain will vanish instantly!”

He said it as if it were an amazing promotional deal.

Irritated by pain, Fang Xiu snapped, “Not interested.”

Still not giving up, the waiter said, “Don’t be hasty, Mr. Fang. We’ve noticed a large amount of karmic debt on your record. As this is your first taboo violation, we’re offering a premium customer bonus, you can exchange your karmic debt right now!”

He pulled out a gleaming 1,000-value chip, stacked with a 10-value chip, and placed it before Fang Xiu.

“Your arm will regenerate instantly, and you’ll enjoy our ‘Get 10 Bonus for Every 1000 Redeemed’ promo! Surprise!”

Fang Xiu: “……”

The waiter leaned closer and playfully winked. “Oh, and we don’t encourage violence. Newly acquired blood debt in Huanxi World is nonredeemable, you’ll have to pick from your past debts.”

Fang Xiu had enough. “Scram!”

“Certainly, Mr. Fang. Good night, Mr. Fang. May tomorrow bring you great fortune!”

The waiter’s handsome smile never wavered, teeth still gleaming.

As the door closed, the round table, scale, and bone-cutting knife vanished simultaneously. Fang Xiu let out a breathy laugh and collapsed onto the bed.

“…Bai Shuangying,” he called softly a few minutes later.

Bai Shuangying was standing by the window. “Mm.”

“My wound hurts like hell.” Fang Xiu stared at the ceiling. “This time, the E is seriously strong.”

“I know,” Bai Shuangying replied.

“It really hurts.”

“I know.”

“I’m not complaining. I just wanted to say it out loud…” Fang Xiu lay on the right side of the bed and slowly shrank his body. “I asked you to chop it off so I’m not blaming you… It just feels better to say it out loud.”

“…I understand.”

Fang Xiu was quiet for a while. Then he asked softly, “Was Shang Debao’s soul really that disgusting…?”

“His karma was nearly empty.” Bai Shuangying walked to the left side of the bed and sat down. “It tasted faintly off, dry and crumbly, like dregs.”

Fang Xiu didn’t answer. Bai Shuangying turned and saw that he’d fallen asleep.

Fair enough. After spending the day trekking through the apartment and five hours in the casino, not to mention killing someone and losing an arm, it was no surprise.

Fang Xiu had never been physically strong. Now, exhausted and weakened, his reaction was understandable.

…But his sleep wasn’t peaceful. Every one or two minutes, he twitched.

Sometimes, pressure on the stump made him convulse violently.

Bai Shuangying leaned over and brushed Fang Xiu’s bangs aside. His hair was soaked in sweat, and his temperature alarmingly high.

Seeing Fang Xiu, usually bouncing off walls, now so still made Bai Shuangying uncomfortable.

He could have persuaded Fang Xiu to give in to Huanxi World. Compared to the Mid-Autumn E, this place was far better for creating a lasting “two-person world”.

But if it meant Fang Xiu would become bland, hollow “human scum”, Bai Shuangying rejected the thought outright.

…Besides, Fang Xiu really hated this place.

Bai Shuangying left the bed and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

Placing one hand on the wall, he began quietly deciphering the spell matrix of the ritual site.

But soon, he felt heat on his back.

Fang Xiu had gotten up and, barefoot, walked behind him. Now he pressed his forehead gently against Bai Shuangying’s back.

“Can’t sleep,” Fang Xiu murmured. “Hurts too damn much…”

There was no electricity, and so little to do. The two sat side by side before the window, watching the moonlit forest outside.

Fang Xiu leaned his good arm against Bai Shuangying and silently tugged his sleeve with his right hand. He didn’t speak. Whether from pain or just lack of words, it was unclear.

He just stared at the view, eyes reluctant to blink.

Bai Shuangying glanced at him.

Fang Xiu’s sleeve-tugging was surprisingly nice. It was warm and gentle, like a massage. But now, his palm was so hot, Bai Shuangying found it unfamiliar.

“You like the mountains?” Bai asked.

Fang Xiu: “Yeah. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

Bai Shuangying thought for a moment. “Nothing special.”

Fang Xiu laughed, which tugged his wound, making him flinch.

“It’s different through a window, like watching a screen,” he said. “The best part of mountain views is the wind, smells, and sounds.”

He reached out with his remaining right hand and touched the glass. “…Say, are these illusions too?”

“Illusions anchored in reality.”

Learning the scenery was fake, Fang Xiu’s eyes dimmed. “No wonder nothing in this room can be exchanged.”

Bai Shuangying had just given him useful intel. He should start thinking… thinking…

“Want to see it?” Bai Shuangying said, holding Fang Xiu’s hand that was pinching his sleeve.

Fang Xiu blinked. “See what?”

“The real mountains.” Bai Shuangying picked up the Peach Bone Evil with his other hand. “Even if it’s an illusion, I can do better.”

Before Fang Xiu could respond, he tapped the ground with the Peach Bone Evil.

In an instant, the glass before them vanished.

Moonlight poured in. Stars glittered above.

Damp night wind swept the room, billowing the curtains. The air carried the scent of earth and plants, filled with insect chirps and bird calls.

They felt as if they were sitting in a mountain courtyard, not a cruel ritual site.

In the mountain breeze, Fang Xiu turned to look at Bai Shuangying.

Those pale eyes met his, still emotionless. The wind stirred Bai Shuangying’s long hair, strands brushing his lips, then falling away.

Fang Xiu forgot the pain, forgot how to speak.

Bai Shuangying stared at him. “You’re in such bad shape, you should see better scenery.”

Fang Xiu gently reached out. Just before touching the red mole, he veered and tucked Bai Shuangying’s hair behind his ear.

The strands brushed Bai Shuangying’s face. His eyes didn’t blink, didn’t move, like a dead thing.

“Even the best illusion… is still just an illusion,” After a while, Fang Xiu whispered.

Bai Shuangying was indifferent. “If life and death are both within illusions, then what difference does it make?”

Fang Xiu was silent for a long time, then smiled. “True.”

He stretched his lone arm, trying to embrace Bai Shuangying. But without his left arm, he couldn’t keep balance and gave up.

In the end, he awkwardly leaned against Bai Shuangying, like a frozen animal against a car, seeking residual warmth.

“To be honest, Miss Zhang Haizhen, the girl Shang Debao killed, wasn’t really my loved one. In fact, she was a client.”

Bathed in mountain wind, Fang Xiu rambled again. “She really did want to marry after graduation, but not me. She found me after her death. We had no relationship beyond the commission…”

Bai Shuangying: “?”

The topic jumped so fast he was a bit lost.

“I mean, you’re still my first and only lawful spouse. I didn’t secretly remarry.”

Fang Xiu showed the hair-ring. With no left hand, he’d moved it to his right ring finger.

Bai Shuangying nodded, then frowned. “Why didn’t I marry you?”

“…That works too.”

Fang Xiu laughed, which again pulled his wound, drawing sweat from his brow.

Bai Shuangying looked at him and brushed the sweat away. The cool white fabric instantly made Fang Xiu feel better.

“Thanks, hubby, wifey, darling, sweetheart,” Fang Xiu joked. “Pick your favorite.”

Bai Shuangying suddenly felt that the phrase “Thank you, God” from the God of Weishan had been so elegantly succinct.

This human was ridiculous.

Still, seeing Fang Xiu’s spirits rise, he let it go.

“…Just kidding.” Fang Xiu leaned on his shoulder. “Back to business. If these rooms are ‘illusions anchored to reality’, why are they so different?”

Bai Shuangying: “See for yourself.”

He activated the Peach Bone Evil. A faint white thread appeared, drifting around the room.

Fang Xiu immediately focused on it. He reached out to grab it. “What is it?”

Bai Shuangying: “Karmic thread. This room is tied to someone’s karma. It’s built from their memories.”

Fang Xiu stretched and managed to catch it, only for it to dissolve in his hand.

Before he could ask, it reformed a few meters away, floating like a ghost.

“Don’t bother. You have no karma with this room. You’re not linked to it,” Bai Shuangying said.

Fang Xiu deflated. “Oh…”

Then he seemed to remember something and fell unusually quiet. Bai Shuangying didn’t force the conversation, idly fiddling with Peach Bone Evil.

After a while, he noticed Fang Xiu’s breathing had become steady and shallow.

He’d fallen asleep leaning on him.

In the breeze, Fang Xiu was doing better. He was no longer sweating and tossing and turning, but his frow still furrowed in pain, trembling every now and then.

His right hand still tightly clutched Bai Shuangying’s sleeve.

Bai Shuangying glanced at his severed left shoulder, then the soaked bedsheet. In the end, he picked Fang Xiu up and carried him to the bathtub.

Then he reverted to his true form.

Bai Shuangying submerged most of Fang Xiu’s body, letting the wounded stump soak in him. He dulled the pain into near-death numbness, knowing Fang Xiu needed it.

Lack of rest would ruin a human’s condition.

This time, Fang Xiu didn’t gnaw on him in his sleep. He just relaxed and stretched his right arm, awkwardly wrapping around Bai Shuangying.

“…Thanks,” Fang Xiu murmured. “Thank you, Bai Shuangying.”

……

The next day, Fang Xiu woke up inside Bai Shuangying’s real body, and he nearly sprang out of the bathtub on the spot.

His entire body first turned as red as his T-shirt, then gradually returned to white, before he fell into deep thought.

Finally, he said solemnly, “So… we’re just gonna sleep like this from now on?”

Considering this man was going to chop of a piece of him again tonight, Bai Shuangying had no objections.

He deliberately observed for a while and noticed that although Fang Xiu was still breaking into cold sweat, his mental state was much better than the night before.

…The pain curse was clearly still in effect, yet this guy’s tolerance to pain was downright abnormal.

Meanwhile, Fang Xiu carefully smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt and happily admired the mountain forest under the morning sun.

“Let’s go find Song Zheng and the others,” Fang Xiu said, chest out and head held high.

Then he opened the door…only to find three mushrooms squatting right outside. Mushroom-Song Zheng had brought Xiao Tian and Xiao Li, all of them staring eagerly, waiting for him to wake up.

Apparently, after a night of hesitation, the three of them still decided that “not getting to eat” was scarier than “Fang Xiu is a killer”.

Cheng Songyun and Guan He were also waiting outside. Both of them had all their limbs intact, just dark circles under their eyes. Seeing the relaxed look on Fang Xiu’s face, they clearly let out a breath of relief.

Fang Xiu’s lips lifted in a smile. He opened the door wide. “Come in, I was just about to look for you.”

He’d already prepared food inside. When they saw the floor covered in meat, snacks, and drinks, Song Zheng’s eyes turned green. “How much intel do you want for this?”

Fang Xiu: “This meal’s on me. Consider it a thank-you for last night.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the three of them darted forward and started scarfing down food with zero dignity. After swallowing a big mouthful of meat, Song Zheng’s eyes welled up with tears. Xiao Tian and Xiao Li simply ate while crying.

“No rush. There’s more after this,” Fang Xiu said, a little pained to see this. Just how long had these people been surviving on rice soup and plain veggie rice?

Song Zheng chewed as he tried to speak. “As long as—mmff—we get food—mmff—we’ll do anything to help…”

Fang Xiu raised his eyebrows. “Not afraid I’ll go on a killing spree?”

Song Zheng hurriedly swallowed. “Hey, last night was just too sudden. I didn’t have time to react. That guy had blood debt points. When they’re redeemed, his crimes get broadcast publicly, exactly like you said.”

“Trash like that deserves to die. I fully support your revenge!” Xiao Tian choked out through bites of pastry.

“…Just eat first. Talk later,” Fang Xiu said, a little worried they might choke to death right then and there.

He turned to his own companions and pulled them aside. “How’d things go for you two last night?”

Guan He: “A female server came to my room and took away the pile of human meat. She even sniffed it and said it didn’t have the smell of a transaction.”

Fang Xiu: “She didn’t say anything else?”

“She threw in some sarcastic jab, said, ‘You have to rely on yourself. Acting like this, no wonder you can’t get a girl.’”

At this, Guan He frowned. “That was totally out of nowhere. Who talks about falling in love in a situation like this?”

Fang Xiu: “…Well, not necessarily. ‘Falling in love’ and ‘pure lust’ are two different things.”

Guan He: “?”

Fang Xiu looked away. “Go on.”

“That’s it. She left after saying that,” said Guan He.

Cheng Songyun took over naturally. “A man came to my room. It went about the same as Xiao He’s. But after he took the meat, he just left. Didn’t say a word.”

She lowered her eyes. “Maybe they already know. There’s no point telling me anything. I won’t gamble anyway.”

Fang Xiu’s brow twitched.

Both their rooms got opposite-sex servers, so why was his a same-sex one?

He sure didn’t think Mr. Eight Teeth had a shred of charm. Just remembering those sales pitches gave him a headache; he almost wanted to carve “unsubscribe” into the guy’s forehead.

…Whatever. Not an important detail.

Fang Xiu opened his mouth, just about to organize his findings, when Cheng Songyun continued on her own.

“Just in case, I spent the night in my own house,” she said.

She took a deep breath. “…And then something terrifying happened.”

---

The author has something to say:

Huanxi E: I see now—you’re into non-human male types. Then a handsome male apparition is sure to be a flawless choice!

Fang Xiu: [Unsubscribe*]

*Clarity: He’s typing TD which people usually do in China when they think they are getting spam. It’s basically equivalent to STOP, Unsubscribe, Cancel, ect.

Actually, Xiao Fang’s weight is pretty unhealthy, so everyone, don’t follow his example (???).

In the future, Xiao Bai will fatten him up!

---

Kinky Thoughts:

Uh… I think it’s a pretty important detail lol.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 49: Taboo Loophole

“We’ll break the taboo together,” Fang Xiu said.

Hearing this, Song Zheng grew anxious but didn’t want to give out free intel. After a long pause, he said, “Then I’ll keep showing you around… Are we still waiting for those three?”

Jia Xu and the others had gone to the service desk to upgrade the guestroom menu and hadn’t returned yet.

Fang Xiu smiled, but his eyes held no amusement. “No need. We’re probably looking for different things.”

After hesitating for a few seconds, Song Zheng led them to the high-low dice game area.

The people here mostly looked dusty and worn out, their faces blank with numb expressions. Their auras resembled mushrooms growing in the corner, clearly a “Bankrupt Alliance”.

Song Zheng plucked two of the “mushrooms” from the group and introduced them. “These two are my teammates. Xiao Tian and Xiao Li.”

He pointed first to the young woman, then to the young man beside her.

Both were pale and emaciated, their expressions so blank they looked like they were wearing masks. But upon hearing Song Zheng introduce them, they both nodded slightly.

“How’s today?” Song Zheng asked.

Xiao Tian: “I won one round at the start. Xiao Li lost two, won one. His chips are even. Bro, you haven’t won yet, right?”

Song Zheng shook his head.

Xiao Li: “One bowl of veggie rice per person today. That’s a straight deduction of three chips. We’ve only got eleven chips left. Lao Song, don’t lose too badly today, or we’ll be down to just rice soup.”

He said this listlessly, his tone utterly flat.

Song Zheng looked at Fang Xiu. “Mind if I play a bit?”

Fang Xiu shook his head.

Song Zheng blew warm air onto both hands, rubbed them vigorously, and stepped toward the high-low table. Despite the fallen state of the players, the dealer’s smile remained as sweet as ever.

Song Zheng cautiously took out one chip and placed it. “Small.”

The dice rattled. 1, 5, 6. “Big”.

One chip was instantly gone.

He pulled out another chip, gritted his teeth. “Small!”

Dealer rolled. 4, 4, 6. “Big” again.

Sweat beaded on Song Zheng’s forehead. He wiped his palms on his pants and pulled out another chip. “Big…”

Dealer smiled and rolled 1, 2, 4. This time “Small”.

In a flash, three chips vanished.

Xiao Li cursed under his breath. Song Zheng sighed repeatedly. Half a minute later, he licked his cracked lips, shivering slightly, and placed another chip. “…Small.”

Finally, the dice came up 1, 3, 4. “Small”.

Realizing he’d won, Song Zheng slumped slightly in relief.

“We’re down to 9 chips. Breaking even, we can last maybe three more days,” Xiao Tian said bitterly. “Maybe… maybe I should trade the karma between me and my sister…”

She shivered slightly, then forced a calm tone. “A hundred chips. That’ll last us a few more weeks.”

Having just seen Jia Xu easily turn 1 chip into over a thousand, then looking at these folks grinding chip by chip, Guan He felt a surreal sense of absurdity.

He couldn’t help licking his lips. “What about familiar folks? Have you… traded all of them?”

Hearing this, Xiao Tian gave a furious laugh.

Song Zheng shook his head and sighed. “Let me explain. It’s not valuable info, so I won’t charge.”

…Once, his team had been young, strong, and in harmony.

Together, they’d cleared three rituals. This was Song Zheng’s fourth. Having five people enter a fourth trial spoke volumes about their strength.

A month ago, they arrived at Huanxi World.

Like Fang Xiu, they disliked the place and wanted only to destroy the “E”.

Everyone agreed to win just once per day, no greed. To prevent anyone from getting carried away, they centralized chip management.

“We lent all our chips, interest-free, to the calmest person in the group, A’Qing,” Song Zheng said with a bitter smile. “He’s a PhD from a prestigious university, the smartest in our group. He did the most in our first three rituals.”

Guan He glanced at Fang Xiu… A’Qing sounded like their group’s “Fang Xiu”.

Fang Xiu: “And then?”

“A’Qing suggested we first trade away unimportant acquaintances for chips. Then take turns playing high-low using a martingale strategy. Know martingale? If you lose a round, you double the chips on the next.”

“That way, just one win recovers all losses plus profit. That profit buys veggie rice, and with free rice soup, you survive the day. Sounds foolproof.”

Cheng Songyun sneered. Guan He mentally ran the math and agreed.

If Song Zheng had used martingale: bet 1 lose 1, bet 2 lose 2, bet 4 win 4. Net gain: 1 chip.

Too bad Song Zheng hadn’t enough chips… Wait, not enough chips?

Guan He suddenly realized something and looked up at Song Zheng.

Song Zheng closed his eyes. “At first it worked great…until one day, A’Qing lost five rounds in a row.”

Fang Xiu hummed. “Lost 31 chips total. Sixth round would require betting 32.”

“Yeah. We only had four chips left. I advised A’Qing to switch to betting one per round to make do. But A’Qing wouldn’t accept it. He said keeping only four chips was too risky. The odds couldn’t be that cursed.”

Song Zheng looked down.

Things unfolded as Fang Xiu had guessed.

A’Qing, who was carrying a blood debt from an accidental death, wasn’t heavily penalized for revealing it. Brimming with confidence, he traded for 1,000 chips to continue martingaling.

…Then he lost five more rounds.

By round 10, he’d lost 1,023 chips. Round 11 required betting 1,024. But now the group had just a few chips left again.

Throughout this, Song Zheng had tried to stop him, but A’Qing had the chips and insisted.

“Ten losses in a row on 50/50 odds? Impossible… Unrealistic…”

A’Qing slumped soullessly at the table. The dealer’s smile didn’t flicker. 1,000+ chips devoured in silence by three dice.

Then A’Qing began exchanging again.

He traded every colleague and classmate he knew, his glamorous job, his properties, all his savings. “It’s fine,” he said, “once I pass the trial, I can wish for tons of money.”

…Thus, he scraped together 1,024 chips and bet again.

Round 11, loss.

Total chips lost: 2,047. Next round would need 2,048.

But they had nothing left.

“Odds can’t be this cursed,” A’Qing muttered, yanking at his hair. “I need more chips…”

“More chips, my ass!” Song Zheng snapped. “The only thing left to trade is family! You crazy?!”

A’Qing snapped too, eyes bloodshot. “So what? I haven’t won once today! If I bet 1 chip now and win, all my previous losses were a joke?!”

Gritting his teeth, Song Zheng grabbed A’Qing’s collar and marched to the service desk, trading in his own blood debt.

His blood debt was also accidental death. After trading, he said coldly, “I’ll lend you chips—one at a time. Go bet one by one.”

A’Qing stared at him for a while, then smiled a little manically and turned to the desk. “I’ll trade my beloved. I have a childhood fiancée…we were planning to marry by the end of the year.”

Song Zheng: “What the f—”

“If the karma’s gone, it’s gone. I’ll just pursue her again after this. It’s not irreversible…” A’Qing’s eyes bulged. “Can I trade it?”

“Verification complete. You do love your fiancée. How enviable.”

The girl at the counter smiled sweetly. “Here you go. 100 chips. Your karmic bond between you and your lover is cleared.”

A’Qing stared at the chip for a while.

They’d known each other for over ten years, and it ended just like that… It felt too easy.

After a while, A’Qing’s throat moved. “I’ll also trade my grandparents.”

“They have many grandchildren, not just me. They’re old anyway. Even if they forget me, it’s okay…”

He muttered, not sure who he was trying to convince.

“Here’s your 200 chips. Your karmic bond with your grandparents is cleared.”

Holding the 300 chips, A’Qing squatted silently for a long time. The “100” printed on each chip looked like strange pupils staring at him with a twisted tenderness.

A’Qing didn’t take Song Zheng’s chip. He bet the 300 directly.

This time, he didn’t bet high-low. He bet that the total dice sum would be 9, 10, 11, or 12. Odds: 6 to 1.

…And he won.

Guan He was stunned. “Winning’s good, isn’t it? Now he has 2,100 chips. He’s recovered completely.”

Plus Song Zheng’s 1,000, if he just bet carefully now, things shouldn’t have ended like this.

Fang Xiu showed no expression. “Everyone knows the logic. But do you think someone who won or lost over a thousand chips in one go would bet one by one again?”

Guan He was stunned, at a loss for words.

Once the discipline breaks, once the chips you’ve traded with your life… once you tasted the rush of a thousand-chip win… the human mind suffered a ‘broken window effect’. Once you take the first step, the second is inevitable.

Before Song Zheng could continue, Xiao Tian frowned. “After that, Song Ge wouldn’t let A’Qing handle the chips anymore. But A’Qing insisted he was right. Said if he’d listened to Song Ge, they’d have lost everything.”

“He said he’d switch to playing poker, a ‘higher skill game’, and even took another group member. Thinking about it now…”

Song Zheng shook his head to stop her.

He concluded directly, “In the end, A’Qing lost his parents too. Once he traded everything, he said returning to the human world was meaningless. Might as well stay here, win more chips, live in comfort.”

“So he tricked us, pretended he wanted to return, and stole all our chips… As for how, that’s paid info.”

Guan He: “Huh? He’s not dead?”

Song Zheng made it sound like a eulogy. He thought A’Qing had gambled himself into oblivion.

Song Zheng grinned. “Nah, now he owes Uncle Hou a lot of chips. Uncle Hou values his brains and keeps him working… Oh, Uncle Hou’s that fat guy. His info’s also paid.”

Guan He nervously glanced at Fang Xiu again.

Fang Xiu was an orphan and seemingly unmarried, with fewer human ties than A’Qing. Guan He imagined Fang Xiu turning into another A’Qing and broke into cold sweat.

Fang Xiu, seeing Guan He’s expression, almost laughed. “Relax. I won’t gamble.”

Cheng Songyun had no reaction the whole time. She just quietly listened, her eyes unreadable.

After the story, Song Zheng finished showing them around Huanxi World.

The casino was massive, larger than the most extravagant malls Fang Xiu had ever visited. His legs felt weak from walking. Bai Shuangying occasionally tugged his collar to stop him from toppling over.

It didn’t help much. Fang Xiu still drifted sideways and muttered occasionally.

After grumbling about the lighting being too bright, Fang Xiu asked, “You said there’s only one evil spirit here… so what are the dealers and staff?”

Bai Shuangying: “Illusions.”

Seeing Fang Xiu blink in confusion, he added, “Like the pedestrians in Mid-Autumn E. But this E is much stronger, so the illusions are more refined.”

“This E is that strong?” Fang Xiu reached out, his fingertip brushing the ornate wallpaper.

“Evil spirits don’t need karma. The karma from chips is all consumed by the E.”

Bai Shuangying explained casually. “Objects with lingering will gather karma and becomes an ‘E’. The more karma, the stronger the E.”

Fang Xiu’s brows twitched. “If all the karma’s drained, wouldn’t the souls taste bland? Then how would you get nourished—cough, I mean, how would ghost immortals be raised?”

He’d seen ghosts eat sacrifices to grow an E but never seen an E and ghost fighting over food. Terrible working conditions. What ghost could bear it?

Bai Shuangying gave him a side glance. “Worry about yourself first.”

Fang Xiu grinned mysteriously. “The mountain hermit has his tricks*!”

*This comes from a phrase said by Zhuge Liang. The mountain hermit refers to himself, because he was originally considered a hermit. The full context would be like “though I am a humble man from the mountains, I have a good solution.” In this context, it’s basically Fang Xiu playfully saying, “don’t worry about me, I have my ways/solution/trick up my sleeve.”

……

“I still think the safest way to win once a day is to trade some familiar people, draw a chip, and bet on high-low,” Song Zheng said gently after they returned to the first floor. “Breaking a taboo is too risky.”

Fang Xiu raised his hand cheerfully. “The first taboo says, ‘you must win once a day.’ Does that necessarily mean ‘you must win a bet in Huanxi World’?”

Upon hearing this, a trace of nostalgia crossed Song Zheng’s face. “When we first got here, A’Qing raised that same question.”

“We tried gambling in private with people who had nothing, even wagering magic weapons or food, intentionally losing to let the other win. We also tried clear win/lose games like arm wrestling. It was all useless.”

“‘Win once’ strictly means ‘win a game with chips in Huanxi World.’ There’s no loophole.”

After his reflection, he caught himself. “Wait, that was paid info…”

Fang Xiu held back a laugh. “Mhm, I’ll pay you with a roast chicken.”

He wasn’t disappointed. If the first taboo were that easy to bypass, 800+ people wouldn’t be stuck here.

Then Fang Xiu stretched a bit and walked once more toward the high-low tables.

Cheng Songyun frowned. “Xiao Fang, didn’t you say you wouldn’t gamble? You—”

Before she could finish, Fang Xiu suddenly lunged toward a figure in the corner. He moved behind the man and swiftly locked his throat.

That man was part of the “Bankrupt Alliance” over 1.9 meters tall. Yet he was scrawny and pale, looking even worse off than Song Zheng’s group.

He was sitting blankly when Fang Xiu struck. Several seconds passed before he realized what was happening. Fang Xiu leaned on the chair back with his body weight, choking the man tightly in place. In minutes, he was dead, without even a struggle.

The noise wasn’t huge but seeing someone killed so casually stunned everyone nearby.

Song Zheng was frozen. He spread his arms, shielding his teammates like baby chicks. “Y-Y-You—”

Fang Xiu didn’t explain. He took out a chip, drew a circle around the corpse, and scanned the surroundings.

Sure enough, within 30 seconds someone arrived. A man built like a tank with a hostile air, clearly another sacrifice.

“Kid, there are rules here.” The brawny man’s voice was low. “Explain. Now.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and his muscles were tense. His forearms were thicker than Fang Xiu’s thighs.

Fang Xiu: “He had a personal vendetta with me. He killed someone close to me.”

The man frowned. “…Go on.”

“Shang Debao. 41, from Chou Province. I know him. Outside, he raped and killed two girls. One of them was Haizhen—Zhang Haizhen. She was a grad student at the time. She said they’d get married after graduation.”

Fang Xiu stared down at the man. “He killed someone close to me. I took revenge. Got a problem?”

The man paused, as if verifying his memory. In the end, he just clicked his tongue. “We’ll let it slide this time. Don’t do it again.”

He moved to deal with the body.

But Fang Xiu swiped his hand and stored the corpse in his qiankun pouch.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

The man’s face darkened. “Let me be clear. If you’re killing to harvest meat to beat the taboo, or trading human meat for chips, that’s taboo!”

Fang Xiu stood firm. “I just want to bring my enemy’s corpse back and tear it apart. Why are you meddling?”

The man glared silently, then growled, “I’ll remember you.”

Fang Xiu: “You have a good memory.”

The man left, fuming.

Song Zheng had never seen someone so reckless. “That guy works for Uncle Hou. You… Haa…”

He looked toward Fang Xiu’s companions, but Guan He and Cheng Songyun were equally stunned, speechless.

Eventually, Cheng Songyun struggled to speak. “I thought we couldn’t hurt people…”

“‘Deceiving, coercing, or harming others to gain chips or chip items is considered stealing chips.’”

Fang Xiu recited Huanxi World’s rules. “So, directly harvesting human meat is banned. Trading human meat for chips is banned. Even trading meat for meat is considered chip bartering. It’s still banned.”

“Trading meat for magic weapons, then selling the magic weapons for chips, whether that works, I don’t know. But given the mess here, it’s probably impossible.”

Cheng Songyun pressed her lips together. “So you can only cut your own flesh.”

“…No, you can still gift it.” Fang Xiu said brightly, “If I simply kill someone and give the corpse away for free, that breaks no rules.”

As he suspected, violence wasn’t entirely forbidden here.

If violence were banned outright, Song Zheng wouldn’t have warned them against broadcasting their intent to break the E. The enforcer of Uncle Hou who rushed over proved it…

You could use violence here and you could kill people. However, Huanxi World was so peaceful that it was quite “unprofitable” to do so.

Giving away a corpse for free might win you allies, but those you can win over are usually marginal players who can’t win once per day anyway. They’re only useful to loan sharks like Uncle Hou, not regular players.

…But that was under “normal circumstances”.

Fang Xiu patted his pouch. “This guy’s a bit weak, but still about 265 lbs. Cheng Jie, you and Xiao Guan can split him. Should last around eight days.”

Bai Shuangying frowned slightly. Guan He tensed up. “Fang Ge, what about you?”

Fang Xiu smiled. “I’ll have to break the taboo.”

“If I can’t crack the E in eight days, I’ll probably just have my head left. At that point, you guys do what you have to. Think for yourselves.”

Cheng Songyun: “……”

Guan He: “……”

“Don’t get all emotional. I need your cooperation.” 

Fang Xiu looked at Cheng Songyun in particular. “Whatever you do, don’t kill for me. If we start exchanging human meat and it gets flagged as next-day trading, we’re all doomed.”

Bai Shuangying stared at him, but Fang Xiu didn’t respond to the look, as if he assumed Bai wouldn’t care.

Bai Shuangying paused, then grabbed a wandering soul still drifting nearby.

Unhappily, he bit into it. Then immediately froze. He lifted his sleeve to cover his mouth and gagged delicately before spitting it out as politely as possible.

A soft “urgh” sounded. Fang Xiu spun around lightning-fast. “What happened?!”

“It tastes awful. I can’t eat it,” Bai Shuangying said frankly, still covering his mouth.

Fang Xiu: “…”

Fang Xiu said with conviction, “I’ll try my best and crack the E within three days.”

Bai Shuangying: “Mm.”

……

At 11:30 p.m., the casino lights began to dim. A golden light shimmered at the lobby. Fang Xiu nodded at Cheng Songyun and Guan He and dashed straight into it.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his mountain-view suite.

Seeing the change in his room, Fang Xiu lifted the corner of his mouth. “So thoughtful.”

A golden round table had appeared in the center of the room. On it sat an exceptionally sharp bone-cutting knife and a perfectly sized weighing scale.

Fang Xiu touched his left arm and sighed.

“Sorry again,” he said to it.

---

The author has something to say:

There’s no such thing as a good ending for a gambling addict. There’s no such thing as a guaranteed win.

Gambling is *not* cool! Gamblers are just as disgusting as johns and junkies. Porn, drugs, and gambling go hand in hand.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 48: Chip Exchange

Bai Shuangying protectively wrapped an arm around Fang Xiu, holding the Peach Bone Evil across Fang Xiu’s chest. The pose looked less like protection and more like a bandit holding a hostage.

The hostage surnamed Fang looked up, eyes sparkling. “Bai Shuangying, look, there are so many living souls here.”

“Mm.” Bai Shuangying remained vigilant, scanning the surroundings in case his human got trampled.

Thankfully, no one got physical. People just kept begging like broken recorders, their postures both pathetic and ridiculous.

“This isn’t our first ritual. We’re not idiots!”

As more people gathered, Jia Xu stepped to the front, raising his voice. “We’re not lending anything! Not until we know what’s going on!”

Blondie shoved people back. “All I’ve got is one chip, now fuck off!”

Driven off, the crowd dispersed like zombies, though a few, especially the good-looking ones, kept trying to sell themselves.

They were scantily dressed, practically pressing themselves forward: “The menu says one night is 100 chips. I only ask for 1! Please think it over…”

Cheng Songyun looked extremely unwell, and being older, no one approached her. Guan He shouted, “I’m not even of age!” and awkwardly hid behind her.

Seeing a man and woman rushing his way, Fang Xiu moved his hair-ring from his middle finger to his ring finger. “Married. Deeply in love. Don’t make me punch you.”

He said it so convincingly even Cheng Songyun wavered for two seconds.

Blondie gasped, “Bro, you’re really into male beauty ghosts?”

Fang Xiu: “The Underworld doesn’t ban office romances.”

Bai Shuangying: “?”

Blondie: “???”

Fang Xiu chuckled: “Just kidding. We’re not dating.”

Blondie looked at him half-doubtful and mumbled a few things.

Bai Shuangying, however, stared at Fang Xiu for a while, until the conman started blushing. “Hey, if it bothers you, I won’t use that excuse again.”

Bai Shuangying replied without hesitation, “I don’t mind. Use it as you like.”

It was just a label. He’d been called worse. And besides, this was one of the nicer ones. Then, realizing “as you like” might be too broad, Bai Shuangying added quietly, “But you and I can only be in a proper, formally recognized relationship. Don’t assign me any indecent roles.”

Fang Xiu: “…”

His mouth opened and closed before stammering, “…Okay.”

Then he quickly looked away, scanning the surroundings as if to purge the phrase “formally recognized” from his mind.

While they were being pestered, the rest of the lobby had moved on to legitimate transactions.

Well…“legitimate” as in chip trades.

Some traded their bodies, others bartered their magic weapons or room cards. A few sold off previous gains like jewelry and liquor. Fang Xiu listened carefully, but didn’t hear anything about “human meat”.

Some people rented chips on the spot. The nicer ones asked for a 9-for-13 return; the nastier ones demanded double repayment.

Each time a deal was struck, a beam of golden light flashed around the pair, flashier than a pay-to-win game level-up screen.

The liveliest “stall” was in the center of the hall, manned by a fat guy.

He had a round nose and plump earlobe looking quite jolly.

His pockets were stuffed with chips, and people lined up around him to rent. Golden light flashed constantly, chips circulating like a mini bank.

Fang Xiu watched and realized the “1” chip he held was the lowest denomination.

The fat man’s minimum was “10”. He had a good number of “50” and “100” chips, and even a few rare “200” and “1000” ones. The “1000” chip sparkled like it was made of real gold.

They lay in plain sight. People stared hungrily, but no one dared snatch them.

Everything seemed peaceful, too peaceful.

Earlier, the crowd surged at them. After being rejected, they retreated obediently without a single scuffle.

Trading chips was life or death, yet the atmosphere was tamer than a senior citizens’ farmers market. With this many scumbags around, that was suspicious.

No way… is violence banned here?

Fang Xiu felt a bit glum at the thought. No business for his ghost meant no food. For the first time, he felt united with the Underworld in wanting to wreck this ritual ASAP.

“The taboo centers on chips…” Fang Xiu leaned into his ghost’s chest, muttering while staring at the fat guy.

“To get chips, you have to trade legitimately, either with Huanxi World or others. With ‘theft is forbidden’ as a taboo, stealing or robbing would trigger punishment.”

A man’s voice came from behind. Fang Xiu turned to see a tramp-like figure.

The man looked about thirty, with a dignified face…ruined by fatigue and bloodshot eyes. His faint authority was paper-thin.

“I’m Song Zheng. I represent my team and want to trade with you,” the man introduced.

Fang Xiu raised an eyebrow: “I’m not buying or selling chips.”

Song Zheng looked around, then lowered his voice: “I’d like to trade information for food.”

“…How do you know I have food?” Fang Xiu narrowed his eyes.

Song Zheng sighed. “To be honest, I was the one spying on you guys earlier.

“I heard someone say, ‘we’ve got food and shelter’, and saw them going to your room for supplies. You must have a way to obtain food.”

“You’re new here, so intel could be useful… Of course, it’s up to you.”

Fang Xiu studied his face. This guy wasn’t on his “bad people” list.

“Alright,” Fang Xiu said.

He’d been thinking of trading food for intel anyway. The approach saved him the trouble.

Song Zheng was sharp and decisive. Fang Xiu didn’t mind dealing with people like that.

Fang Xiu reached into his qiankun pouch for a drink can as a down payment…only to touch the chip.

Song Zheng gave a wry smile. “Only chips and Underworld magic weapons work here. Regular stuff doesn’t make it in.”

Fang Xiu was surprised. “Then how are those people making deals?”

He’d clearly heard of people trading room cards and physical goods. But with endless floors, how would they find each other again?

Song Zheng: “Oh, the ritual guarantees delivery. As long as a deal is made here, the room menu will gain a new option.

“The buyer clicks it, and the seller automatically gets the chips. No need for either party to meet, unless it’s a physical service.”

Fang Xiu fell silent.

So Song Zheng could only make this non-chip deal because they happened to be on the same floor. Otherwise, even knowing Fang Xiu had food, he wouldn’t be able to find him.

Previous rituals pushed people toward internal conflict. This one seemed terrified of disputes and even acted as a third-party escrow platform.

…What kind of obsession could have birthed this thing?

“You give a quick intro later. Once we’re back, I’ll give you food,” Fang Xiu said, feeling a bit drained.

……

At 6:30 PM sharp, the doors of Huanxi World slowly opened.

The inside was even more lavish, like a six-floor grand theater. The air carried invigorating incense, and the lights were brighter than day.

Slot machines blinked, roulette tables were everywhere. Each gambling station had scantily clad beauties or handsome hosts, their sweet smiles unnervingly fixed.

At the center of the first floor was a futuristic circular service desk. Above it hung a massive screen displaying glowing words: “Chip Exchange Counter”.

Below that, instructions read:

[Huanxi Xin Karma-to-Chip Exchange Chart]

• Loved ones and friends: 1 chip per person
• Current job: 10 chips per position
• Current savings: 10 chips per 10,000 yuan
• Beloved partner: 100 chips
• Blood relatives: 100 chips per person
• Property: 100 chips per property
• Blood debts: 1000 chips per incident

~Special Offer~

Bonus 10 chips for every 100 chips exchanged!

Win 100 chips to unlock intermediate [Service Menu]!

Win 1000 chips to unlock advanced [Service Menu]!

※ Notes ※

① All trades are regulated by Huanxi World.

② A 10% service fee applies to trades ≥10 chips.

③ Fraud, coercion, or harm to gain chips/items = theft. Huanxi World will confiscate all chips.

Song Zheng, now acting like a tour guide, explained, “If you run out of chips, you can come to the service desk to exchange. But remember, doing so means sacrificing your karma.”

“For example, trading in ‘loved ones and friends’ makes them forget you completely. ‘Current job’ means you’ll lose it in the living world.”

Jia Xu was curious. “What about ‘blood debts’? If they’re erased, wouldn’t that be a win-win?”

Song Zheng: “…That one’s different. If you trade your blood debts, your crimes will be made public, both here and in the living world.”

Jia Xu dropped the subject. Blondie, on the other hand, was intrigued. “So the Service Menu has upgrade levels?”

Song Zheng: “Your rooms don’t have utilities, right?”

Jia Xu casually replied: “My fridge has solar storage, so it works. But yeah, the rest doesn’t.”

Song Zheng smiled politely and continued, “I heard the intermediate menu unlocks full room functionality. Advanced ones even provide internet. Aside from not contacting the living or traveling, it’s just like the real world.”

“Holy crap…” Blondie was visibly tempted.

His thoughts were practically written on his face… The ritual only required daily wins and holding a chip. As long as you played nice, the taboos were easy.

With enough chips, they could upgrade rooms, enjoy gourmet food and companions, even surf the internet.

Song Zheng looked down. “A lot of people genuinely want to live here long-term. If you’re planning to break the E, best keep it quiet.”

Fang Xiu rubbed his lips, eyes locked on the screen.

Second taboo: All stakes must be exchanged with life. Steal and be punished.

…So this was what “paying with life” meant. Huanxi World earned and spent its own chips, with exchange and service tables forming a full economic loop.

Song Zheng turned to Fang Xiu. “That’s all I can explain for now. Any other questions?”

“I have two.”

Fang Xiu pointed to the lobby. “First, what’s that little door?”

At 6:30, more than one door opened.

Aside from the gaudy main entrance, a narrow side door opened quietly. It was dark, dim, and almost invisible. Fang Xiu barely noticed it.

A faded “Emergency Exit” sign hung above it, but it wasn’t lit.

Song Zheng licked his lips nervously. “I’ll tell you once I get the food. For now, I can only say, it’s a ‘pick one of two’ door.

“If you enter Huanxi World tonight, you can’t go through that door. And vice versa, once you step through it, you can’t come here tonight.”

Cheng Songyun: “We can split up and explore. I’ll go there.”

The casino was fancy and comfortable, but she looked like she didn’t want to stay a second.

Song Zheng hesitated, then warned. “That’s not a casino. Choosing that path guarantees breaking a taboo.”

First taboo: You must win a game daily. Fail, and suffer harm.

Fang Xiu nodded. “That leads to my second question, if we don’t win, what kind of ‘harm’ is it?”

Song Zheng hesitated, then finally said, “13 pounds of flesh.”

“…What?”

“If you don’t win anything by midnight, you must offer 13 pounds of human meat. Otherwise, Huanxi World will deduct 1000 chips from you… and if you don’t have enough, you’ll trigger the death taboo.”

Third taboo: You must always hold a chip. Lose it, and die. 

Cheng Songyun’s hands shook on her prayer beads. “If I don’t gamble, I lose 13 pounds of flesh daily?”

She was barely 105 pounds total. She wouldn’t last long.

And they couldn’t kill someone to harvest meat, either. That would count as stealing a 1000-chip “chip item”, triggering full confiscation and risking death.

“Don’t overthink it for now. We’ve got daylight left to figure it out.”

Jia Xu wasn’t concerned. “Since we’re already here, let’s just get today’s win out of the way.”

He rolled his human-bone die and walked to the nearest roulette table.

“Single bet, red 16.” He placed the chip down. The pretty dealer smiled sweetly and nodded.

After placing his bet, Jia Xu turned to the others. “Anyone want in?”

With a 1/36 chance, no one spoke. Even Blondie laughed nervously. “After you, boss.”

Jia Xu rubbed his die and said nothing.

The roulette spun. The ball bounced between black and red, slowing… and landed on 16.

At 35:1 odds, Jia Xu’s 1 chip became 36.

He cleared his throat dramatically and looked at the others. “Gonna play again. You joining this time?”

Blondie jumped forward with a yell. Mei Lan silently followed. Guan He hesitated, but a death grip on his wrist stopped him. Cheng Songyun looked frayed and the blood vessels around her eyes looked ready to burst.

“Don’t touch that, child,” she said nearly hysterical.

Guan He looked at Fang Xiu, who hadn’t moved and just stood arms crossed, watching. So he obediently stayed put.

Jia Xu glanced at them, half-smirking, then placed another single bet on red 36.

The ball spun again, and landed squarely on 36.

Jia Xu’s chips skyrocketed to 1296. Blondie and Mei Lan now had 36 each. The smiling dealer handed Jia Xu a gleaming 1000-chip token.

“Sir, you’re amazing,” she cooed. “You can now upgrade your service menu, and any staff here is available for a night’s pleasure~”

She winked at Jia Xu, completely ignoring the onlookers.

Two perfect bets from a newcomer drew every gaze, including that of the fat chip mogul in the lobby.

Jia Xu puffed up, basking in the attention.

It didn’t matter. He had the “Luck Borrowing Dice”. No one could steal it. Violence was banned. This was paradise!

Blondie hooked an arm around Jia Xu, face glowing. “Yahoo! Taboo cleared for today. You’re a beast, Jia Ge!”

Jia Xu stayed humble. “It’s nothing.”

Then he turned to Fang Xiu and coughed. “From here, you guys are on your own. It’s not that I won’t help, but the dice has limits. You remember, right…”

Fang Xiu nodded: “I remember.”

The “Luck Borrowing Dice” borrowed future luck for present gain, making the user wildly lucky.

But the balance had to be paid. The luck borrowed would be repaid back in the future with misfortune. As the price for violating the way of Heaven, the total amount of bad luck returned will be more than the good luck borrowed, equivalent to a kind of interest.

When Fang Xiu first read the description, he felt it really should’ve been called a “Luck Loan”.

But unlike loans in the living world, the “repayment” of bad luck was calculated backwards from the user’s death date, as recorded in the Book of Life and Death.

If Jia Xu only borrowed luck for one day, he’d pay for it with bad luck on the day he was meant to die. If he borrowed again tomorrow, he’d also suffer on the day before that… and so on.

To be fair, this artifact was quite practical, and Jia Xu’s choice wasn’t wrong. The same amount of luck meant far more in a life-or-death ritual than in everyday life.

But he shouldn’t have used it in this setting, Fang Xiu thought.

Jia Xu, riding high on his win, turned to Fang Xiu. “I’m heading over to upgrade the advanced Service Menu. Wanna come take a look? There might be some new clues.”

Fang Xiu waved a hand. “No need. I can check it when we’re back.”

“Alright, let’s split up for now and regroup later.” Jia Xu was brisk and decisive.

Blondie slung an arm around Jia Xu again. Mei Lan clutched her chips and, after some hesitation, followed them.

Guan He nervously rolled his own chip between his fingers. “Fang Ge… what should we do? If we don’t win, we’ll have to give up 13 pounds of meat…”

Cheng Songyun cut in, firm and cold. “I’d rather die than gamble.”

Bai Shuangying looked down at Fang Xiu.

He knew. If Fang Xiu so wished, he could trade in an untold number of blood debts for chips. Just in the last two rituals, he had ended six lives.

Even if those debts were exposed to the human world, the human world couldn’t touch him. At 1000 chips per blood debt, those 6000 chips were practically free for Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu lacked nothing in terms of food or comfort. From now on, he could just bet on red or black each night and “win once” without trouble. It didn’t seem like gifting chips was forbidden either, he could easily help his teammates.

But Bai Shuangying had never seen Fang Xiu this serious.

“Guan He,” Fang Xiu asked, after a long silence, his tone unusually grave, “how much do you trust me?”

Guan He swallowed hard. “Um… pretty much, I guess?”

“Then don’t gamble. Don’t trade your chip either. Tonight, we break a taboo together.”

---

The author has something to say:

Everyone, please believe me. When Xiao Fang says he’s going to fix the branches, he *really* means fixing the branches. Someone *will* be going offline lol.

Also, a small clarification for the comment section—

Aside from what’s listed on the service menu, everything else is free of charge. Their housing is completely free lol.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 47: Room Assignments

“Holy shit, they’re selling human meat?!” Blondie was shocked.

While he gasped, he tore off the chip and stuffed it into his pocket. The chip was kind of gross-looking, but what if this was the only free one they got? Better safe than sorry.

After surviving the fratricidal Mid-Autumn ritual, Guan He was a bit traumatized. He leaned toward Fang Xiu and whispered, “Fang Ge, with stuff like human meat and knives showing up again, are we about to start killing each other?”

Fang Xiu shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it for now. The meat’s for sale to us… It doesn’t mention buybacks.”

Everything else on the menu was normal, including meal options. The “human meat” was likely for some special scenario. As for what that “special scenario” was, there wasn’t enough information yet.

As Fang Xiu thought, he casually used his room card to swipe the same door Blondie had opened first.

When the scene inside was revealed, Blondie inhaled sharply with envy. It clearly hadn’t looked like this when he opened it!

If Blondie’s room was like a 200-yuan-a-night motel, then Fang Xiu’s was a 2000 yuan+ mountain-view luxury suite…

Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of golden green autumn foliage, birds chirped cheerfully, and the room came with an oversized bed and a bathtub by the window.

Fang Xiu closed the door, then randomly picked another to test. It was another scenic mountain suite, with the same angle of sunlight streaming in.

A menu lay on the bed in the mountain-view room too, and beneath it was a wiggling chip, exactly the same as Blondie’s.

Fang Xiu: “Looks like the room follows the card.”

“This isn’t fair!” Blondie fumed. Now he felt like his crappy room was worthless.

He shoved Guan He, who also had a white envelope. “Kid, you try it.”

When Guan He’s room appeared, Blondie instantly felt better.

It was like a college dorm with four bunks, desks underneath and beds on top. Three of the beds were empty, and one had simple bedding with the same menu on the pillow.

High schooler Guan He: “Better than our school dorm. We had eight per room.”

He didn’t think it was unfair. Instead, he curiously looked around.

The three with white envelopes were done opening their rooms. Now it was the red envelope holders’ turn.

Cheng Songyun rubbed her prayer beads and swiped the door next to Guan He’s. The door creaked open, and her expression instantly changed.

Inside was a standard residential apartment, roughly 70 square meters, two bedrooms and a living room.

The decor was soft wood style, with healthy green plants by the window. The place was tidy and clean. The table was empty, but fruit bowls and other containers had been left behind.

On the entryway shoe cabinet sat a photo of a happy family of three.

The husband was upright-looking, holding a chubby-cheeked little girl with eyes full of love. The wife leaned into him as the two encircled their daughter, smiling with happiness and contentment.

Fang Xiu recognized the woman at a glance. It was a younger Cheng Songyun.

Cheng Songyun’s breathing grew rapid. She slammed the door shut and took a long time to recover. “…This is my house.”

Recalling how that “harmonious family” ended, Fang Xiu sighed inwardly.

Jia Xu mused, “So that’s what ‘karmic tie’ means.”

He swiped the door closest to him and laughed. “Well, what a coincidence. This one’s my house too.”

He flung the door wide open so everyone could see inside.

Jia Xu’s home had a dark metal theme. It was clear that a lot of money was spent on decoration. The place was split into two levels, with a cityscape view outside.

He even had a self-portrait on the wall in a contemplative pose, full of artistic flair.

Blondie clicked his tongue, looking around. “Damn, how many square meters is this?”

Jia Xu waved him off. “Just under 200 usable.”

“Not many decorations… It feels kinda empty,” Blondie commented regretfully, clearly not someone who appreciated minimalism.

Jia Xu: “…It’s called minimalist style.”

He left the door open and entered the bedroom. After a while, he came back with a chip-labeled menu. “Mine has a menu too. But my liquor cabinet and fridge are empty. There’s no food left in the house.”

The last to open a door was Mei Lan.

Her situation was slightly different. She said it was her ex-boyfriend’s place. The decor was also fancy, but a bit inferior to Jia Xu’s.

After everyone had seen each other’s rooms, Jia Xu cheerfully said, “Nice setup from the Underworld. Being in your own place is definitely the most comfortable. Xiao Guan, want to come stay with me? I’ve got a guest room upstairs, private bath included.”

Guan He mumbled, “I think the dorm’s fine.”

“Alright, let’s get down to business.” Jia Xu leaned against the wall, playing with the creepy chip with a confident smile on his face.

“Chips, the phrase ‘must win’—it’s obvious the theme of this ritual is staking¹,” he enunciated.

Cheng Songyun’s face darkened. She rarely snapped at people, but now she did. “If it’s gambling, just call it gambling. Don’t get all euphemistic¹.”

¹Clarity: Jia Xu uses the term [bocai] (博彩) while Cheng Songyun uses the term [dubo] (赌博). While they both mean gambling, the latter term has a negative connotation, while the former has a more neutral and sometimes even positive connotation.

Jia Xu said indifferently, “These days it’s mostly entertainment. Even national lotteries are gambling. A little wager is good for fun… It’s understandable if you can’t accept it at your age.”

Seeing how unsettled she looked, Fang Xiu placed a hand on her shoulder and gently applied pressure. Cheng Songyun took a deep breath and went back to counting her beads.

“Anyway, those three taboos seem trustworthy. With ruthless groups around, it wouldn’t take long to test them. There’s no need for empty threats.”

Jia Xu continued, “If we assume those taboos are real, they all revolve around one idea: ‘win’. We have to use this ritual-issued chip to win our way forward, using luck and brains.”

He looked around, his gaze lingering on Fang Xiu. “Right now, our priority is to find where the chips are used, and figure out what ‘stakes must be exchanged with life’ really means… How about we meet at my place? I’ve got a meeting room.”

Fang Xiu smiled politely: “Better to gather more intel first.”

Jia Xu clicked his tongue. “Fair. Anyway, we’ve got food and shelter. There’s no rush.”

As they spoke, the door next to Jia Xu’s suddenly opened a crack.

A chain lock held it in place. The room inside was pitch black… Only a single bloodshot eye moved rapidly, scanning them up and down.

No one screamed. After so much horror, they were mostly desensitized.

Jia Xu: “You—”

Before he could say “good”, the door slammed shut. The other party clearly didn’t want to chat.

Fang Xiu turned his head just as Bai Shuangying remarked, “Not an evil spirit.”

Fang Xiu nodded slightly.

So this ritual included other participants. But the hallway was so quiet, and the doors all identical, they couldn’t tell who was in which room, or how many there were.

Even though the three taboos were spelled out, there were still many puzzles…

As Fang Xiu was sorting his thoughts, Bai Shuangying leaned close, his cool long hair brushing Fang Xiu’s cheek.

“Eight hundred and eighty-eight people,” Bai Shuangying said. “Including you six, there are 888* sacrifices.”

*Clarity: In Chinese culture, the number 8 is considered lucky (since it sounds similar to the word  [fa] (發) which means to prosper), so 888 symbolizes triple fortune, further amplifying it. Given the context of gambling, it’s similar to how 7 is considered lucky in American culture, and casino slots often have 777 as the jackpot.

Fang Xiu’s eyes widened slightly at the outrageous number. Bai Shuangying added quietly, “The Peach Bone Evil is quite useful.”

Fang Xiu smiled with satisfaction. “Glad you like it.”

Last time, they had to manually count heads. Bai Shuangying’s sudden boost in power was clearly thanks to the staff.

Fang Xiu leaned slightly toward him and whispered, “Can you sense any evil spirits?”

Bai Shuangying: “I was just about to tell you, something’s off here… There’s nearly a thousand participants, but only one vengeful spirit.”

“And it’s not a normal one. I can sense its aura but can’t pinpoint its location.”

Only one evil spirit?!

Fang Xiu was shocked as he asked, “Wasn’t Li Shuo like that last time? Could this one also be a half-step ghost immortal?”

Bai Shuangying shook his head; Fang Xiu tilted his in confusion.

Instincts were hard to explain. Bai Shuangying thought for a few seconds and offered a metaphor Fang Xiu would understand. “Finding an evil spirit is like a person searching for other humans in a forest.”

“Li Shuo used the power of the E to craft a camouflage outfit. He blended in perfectly with the surroundings, making him hard to detect. But this evil spirit is more like a monkey. It’s not quite human, so I can’t track it with ‘human-finding’ methods.”

Fang Xiu: “That makes it sound kind of… low-level.”

To his surprise, Bai Shuangying nodded. “It is low-level. With me here, you don’t need to worry about the evil spirit. Just focus on breaking the E.”

Fang Xiu was stunned for two seconds.

Then he pinched Bai Shuangying’s sleeve and awkwardly said, “…Okay. I’ll leave it to you.”

……

There was still time, so they pocketed their cards and explored the building.

Good news: Huanxi Xin Apartments did have stairwells.

Bad news: No matter whether they went up or down, the floors seemed endless.

Worse news: Every floor looked exactly the same with identical doors, carpets, paintings… and dead silence.

There were no windows in the stairwells, and the floors weren’t labeled. Lose track for a second, and you couldn’t even find your way back to the starting floor. It felt like a horror game built around endless loops.

They never found the place where the “win a game daily” taboo was supposed to occur.

Fang Xiu hated climbing stairs. Exhausted, he eventually pulled out a can of Wangzai and tossed it down the stairwell.

The red can slipped between the narrow gaps by the railing, plummeting into the darkness. And then… nothing.

No sound of impact. It was as if the building extended straight to hell.

Blondie rubbed his goosebumps. “Let’s just head back. I hate this kind of weird nonsense the most.”

Seeing Fang Xiu about to speak, Jia Xu jumped in. “Right, let’s all go back for now. We can check things out again tonight. Switching from day to night always changes things, just like the last two rituals.”

Fang Xiu hummed and said no more. Jia Xu cleared his throat with satisfaction and led the way.

They returned to the original floor and picked six adjacent rooms to rest. Fang Xiu called everyone into his place to hand out food, as usual.

“Anyone unhappy with their room can come crash at my place. The mattress is five-star hotel-quality, super comfy,” Jia Xu said. “Hey Fang Xiu, give me some extra food. I just checked an my fridge still works.”

Fang Xiu was happy to oblige and handed over more food and drink. Jia Xu stashed it with satisfaction and sighed, “Don’t you think our luck’s finally turning around?”

Blondie: “Turning around? In this hellhole?”

Jia Xu: “Think about it. The only free thing here is rice soup. A bowl of veggie rice costs 1 chip, and a good meal 10. But with Fang Xiu on our team, we don’t need to worry about food.”

“Fair point.” Blondie stuffed a piece of pig head meat in his mouth.

Jia Xu twirled his chip. “This time it’s gambling, and the taboos don’t encourage in-fighting… If it’s about brains and luck, I won’t lose.”

Blondie choked. “What am I supposed to do? I’d rather fight.”

Jia Xu leaned in mysteriously. “Just follow my bets when the time comes. I guarantee you’ll win.”

Then he shot a side glance at Fang Xiu, who was sipping his drink, looking totally uninterested.

…Forget it, Jia Xu thought. Fang Xiu would eventually cave.

He himself had the best luck. His choice of the “Luck-Borrowing Dice” as his ritual magic weapon was brilliant. With both smarts and luck, Round 3 would be his playground!

Imagining Fang Xiu bowing his head, Jia Xu smirked.

Watching Jia Xu switch between brooding and grinning like an idiot, Fang Xiu became mildly concerned. “Bai Shuangying, are there any mind-altering spells in this place?”

“No.”

“Oh…”

After food was distributed, Cheng Songyun turned to Mei Lan. “Xiao Mei, do you have extra space? Could I stay with you?”

Mei Lan looked awkward. “Sister, don’t you have your own place? Mine’s… uh, not too convenient.”

Cheng Songyun smiled apologetically and didn’t explain.

She turned to Guan He and whispered, “Xiao Guan, can Auntie stay with you? You’ve got three spare beds… If you mind, just say so.”

Guan He didn’t understand why she didn’t want to stay in her own home, but he could see the fear and sorrow on her face.

Clearly, she didn’t want to room with Jia Xu or Blondie, and Fang Xiu’s room had only one large bed, not suitable. He was likely her last option.

“I don’t mind,” Guan He said.

Since his room only had bare boards, Fang Xiu helped move bedding and daily necessities from Cheng Songyun’s place.

But when they reached her door, they hit an invisible barrier, stuff spilled everywhere. The family photo at the entrance nearly fell, but Cheng Songyun caught it just in time.

Guan He stepped back and forth at the doorway. “Looks like stuff can’t be taken out of the room. Maybe you should ask Mei Lan again?”

Cheng Songyun lowered her gaze. “I’ll just sleep on the boards. Firm beds are good for the back.”

A warm, familiar home, but Cheng Songyun refused to stay in it.

She had said her husband died falling down the stairs, but this place didn’t even have stairs, no thresholds, either. Fang Xiu could understand if she was emotionally affected, but this level of rejection was hard to grasp.

Fang Xiu offered to swap rooms. He’d stay in hers, and she could have the scenic suite. But the cards didn’t work for others.

Even if Fang Xiu opened the door first and Cheng Songyun entered alone, once he closed the door, she’d be teleported out.

Fang Xiu raised an eyebrow at the card in his hand.

Items couldn’t be taken out, and rooms couldn’t be seized.

Combined with the second taboo, “theft of chips is forbidden”, this ritual seemed designed to prevent rule-breaking conflicts.

…Interesting.

In the end, Cheng Songyun went to Guan He’s dorm room, and Fang Xiu returned to his suite.

After a long day, it was nearing dusk.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sunlight bathed the golden leaves, lifting one’s spirits.

Even better, an artistic light fixture hung over the bed, meaning Bai Shuangying couldn’t lie directly above him on the ceiling.

Then a worrying thought hit him: the bathtub was across from the bed. What if Bai Shuangying returned to his true form and lay in the tub? Or worse, choose some dark corner of the ceiling?

These thoughts made Fang Xiu’s mood dipped.

He watched as Bai Shuangying eyed the ceiling, pacing slowly around the bed like he was stepping on Fang Xiu’s nerves. Just as Bai Shuangying opened his mouth…

Fang Xiu blurted out, “This bed’s two meters wide. It’d be a waste for me to sleep alone. Wanna join me?”

Bai Shuangying simultaneously, “I want to sleep in the bed.”

Fang Xiu: “…”

Bai Shuangying: “…”

Fang Xiu: “Okay.”

His heart skipped again. Fang Xiu pressed his chest, savoring the flutter.

For once, he agreed with Jia Xu. His luck really had turned around!

To hide his twisted grin, Fang Xiu flopped onto the bed and tore the chip off the menu. The chip was warm and quivered slightly in his hand, just gross enough.

He grimaced and stuffed it into the qiankun bag.

It slid in smoothly, proving it wasn’t a spirit or living thing. Fang Xiu felt a bit better but had no intention of taking it back out.

Third taboo: You must always carry a chip. Lose it and die.

…He had no desire to test a death taboo.

The TV didn’t work, nor did the bathtub faucet, but the mountain view more than made up for it. From sunset to nightfall, the landscape was breathtaking.

Bai Shuangying had no interest in the scenery. He lay on the bed, switching between human and true form like he was testing the mattress. He finally settled in human form, black hair spreading across the sheets.

Fang Xiu sat on the edge of the bed, playing with a lock of hair, passing time contentedly.

At 6 PM, a strange phenomenon appeared.

There was no power in the room, only bright moonlight. So the golden light at the door stood out starkly.

Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying exchanged glances, then cautiously approached. The moment his fingers touched the light, Fang Xiu was yanked forward, like an invisible hand had grabbed him.

If Bai Shuangying hadn’t caught him by the collar, he would’ve faceplanted.

When he raised his head, he was stunned.

Even knowing there were 888 people, seeing them all at once was overwhelming…

They were now standing in a vast, gilded lobby.

The floor was covered in gold-and-red carpeting, and the dazzling lights made his eyes ache. On the wall opposite the main door, two characters glowed: “Huanxi World”.

Below that was a grand, double-doored theater entrance. 

On either side stood a man and woman with perfect, almost inhuman beauty.

They smiled and gestured toward a sign, which read: “Open Hours: 18:30–23:30”

Perhaps due to room proximity, Fang Xiu’s companions stood right beside him.

Blondie gawked, “Holy crap, so many people?! All of them alive?!”

Jia Xu frowned. “The door opens at 18:30, but it’s only 18:00. What does that mean?”

The next moment, they got their answer.

The surrounding crowd noticed the six newcomers and all turned to look. Cheng Songyun stiffened, ready to defend herself…

But then, everyone’s expressions changed.

They all broke into flattering smiles.

“New arrivals!”

“Damn, they’re new—!”

“They haven’t exchanged their chips yet!”

“Wanna trade for a better room?”

“Bro, sis, need a companion for the night?”

“…Just lend me your chip and I’ll do whatever you want!”

Countless hands reached toward them.

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The author has something to say:

Jia Xu: Thank you, ritual 🙏

Fang Xiu: Thank you, ritual (meaningfully)

And so the world where only Cheng Jie gets hurt… has been achieved…

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