Category: Her Prey [Infinite]

Chapter 42 The Quiz Show (4)

“Zhu Ming! Are you okay?!” Wenren Tu yelled.

Zhu Ming grimaced. “I think I pulled something in my back!” If she hadn’t reacted quickly, she would have broken her neck.

The stone giant’s eyes, two red gemstones, glowed menacingly. It stomped towards Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan, the ground trembling beneath its massive feet.

Wenren Tu quickly rolled out of the way. Being stepped on by that would turn her into paste.

The giant’s movement grazed Zhu Ming’s arm. She had to lie flat against its round, bald head to avoid falling off. The movement sent a jolt of pain through her back. Damn it!

“The blade!” Wenren Tu tossed the long blade to Yun Zouchuan. “Get behind it!”

“Got it!” Yun Zouchuan secured her braid with her teeth and, taking advantage of the moment the giant lifted its foot, darted between its legs. She drew the blade and swung it at the giant’s ankle.

Clang!

A white scratch appeared on the stone, not even a chip.

The stone giant’s defense was incredibly high. Even Yun Zouchuan’s full-strength attack couldn’t harm it.

It seemed she couldn’t use dispersed electricity to paralyze it. She needed a single, decisive blow.

The thought flashed through Wenren Tu’s mind. She brought her hands together, then slowly pulled them apart, a thick, purple arc of lightning crackling between them.

Her power increased with every instance she completed. She hadn’t used her abilities yet in this instance. This was her full power, enough to shatter even stone.

Electricity surged around her, her short hair standing on end, her clothes billowing. The air crackled with energy.

During this process, Wenren Tu couldn’t move. She watched as the stone giant’s fist hurtled towards her. She didn’t flinch. Just before impact, a protective amulet shattered.

The giant’s fist stopped momentarily.

Wenren Tu lunged forward, using the giant’s knee as a springboard, and unleashed the full force of her lightning into its abdomen. A dull explosion echoed through the passage. Wenren Tu shielded her face from the flying debris, the force of the blast throwing her backward.

Yun Zouchuan rushed forward and caught her.

Sizzle, crackle…

The last vestiges of lightning dissipated in a cloud of black smoke. Wenren Tu coughed, fanning the air. “Where’s Zhu Ming?”

Yun Zouchuan: “She should still be up there.”

Just as they were about to search the giant’s remains, they heard a whooshing sound, or rather, felt a sudden pressure drop. Yun Zouchuan’s face paled, and she pulled Wenren Tu back, narrowly avoiding the giant’s massive foot.

“It’s still alive?!” Wenren Tu exclaimed in disbelief.

The black smoke cleared, the faint purple light illuminating the scene. A charred crater, surrounded by deep cracks, marked the giant’s abdomen, but it was slowly regenerating.

If she had targeted its knees, she might have been able to cripple it, but she had needed a single, decisive blow.

One miscalculation, and the situation had changed drastically. Regret was useless now.

Wenren Tu’s lightning had limited effect on the stone giant. Yun Zouchuan’s abilities were equally ineffective. She could only rely on brute force, but the giant’s defense was incredibly high, her attacks barely leaving a mark.

“Zhu Ming! Think of something!” Wenren Tu yelled towards the figure perched on the giant’s head.

Zhu Ming, lying flat against the giant’s head, every movement sending jolts of pain through her back, grumbled, “Your abilities are useless against it! What am I supposed to do?!”

Thankfully, although the stone giant was strong and resilient, it wasn’t very agile. Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan focused on dodging and evading, neither side able to gain an advantage.

Wenren Tu looked up at Zhu Ming. “Its eyes are made of a different material! Attack its eyes!”

Zhu Ming frowned. “I’ll try.”

If she hadn’t injured her back, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But now, her movements were restricted, and she had to cling to the giant’s smooth, round head to avoid falling off.

Seeing her hesitation, Yun Zouchuan jumped back, using the blade like a spear, and threw it at the giant’s eye. She was skilled in throwing weapons, her aim precise. The blade spun through the air, whistling, and struck the giant’s eye.

Clang—

Clatter, clatter.

Wenren Tu flicked her wrist, and a silver chain shot out, retrieving the fallen blade.

But the red gemstone was unscathed, seemingly even harder than the stone body. They were at a loss.

Zhu Ming frowned and unstrapped the longbow from her back. It was heavy and awkward, unfamiliar in her hands.

Holding one end of Zhuque, she used the other to reach for the giant’s eye.

She had no arrows and wasn’t skilled in archery, and the angle was awkward, but the bow’s curve allowed her to reach the giant’s eye.

She intended to use Zhuque as a conduit for her ability.

But her face suddenly paled. The bow was actively drawing her energy. Using it in this state would be difficult to control. She had to focus.

But just as the heat coalesced, it vanished. Zhu Ming quickly stopped channeling her energy.

Zhuque drew her power, but the energy was released, absorbed by the stone giant’s eye!

Zhu Ming gripped Zhuque, her voice urgent. “It’s absorbing my energy! Run!”

All their attacks had been ineffective. Staying here would only lead to their deaths, exhausted and unable to dodge the giant’s attacks.

“Understood, Boss!” Yun Zouchuan, always trusting Zhu Ming’s judgment, turned and ran, quickly disappearing from sight.

Wenren Tu hesitated. She couldn’t leave Zhu Ming. “What about you?”

Zhu Ming, her face pale, her body stiff, said, “It only attacks those within its line of sight. And it doesn’t have ears. I’m relatively safe. Don’t worry about me.”

Wenren Tu insisted, “No! You can’t get down on your own!”

“I’ll recover eventually.”

As they were arguing, Yun Zouchuan ran back. “Dead end ahead! Left is a dead end! Right is a door!”

They didn’t have time for puzzles. Their only option was to risk passing beneath the stone giant’s feet, or they would be trapped.

But… after several encounters, the giant’s behavior had become more complex and unpredictable. It no longer attacked blindly, even seeming to anticipate their movements. Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan didn’t dare approach it.

“Azou, we’ll pretend to run between its legs, then dodge to the sides when it tries to crush us.”

Having been tricked once, the stone giant had learned to close its legs, trapping its prey. Wenren Tu had almost been crushed earlier.

“Got it!”

They ran towards the gap between the giant’s legs, feigning an attempt to pass through. Thump! The giant, faster and more agile than before, slammed its legs together. Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan jumped onto its knees, using the momentum to propel themselves to the sides—Rumble!

The giant lowered its body, its thick stone arms dropping down, blocking the gaps between its body and the walls.

Wenren Tu lashed out with her silver chain, using the recoil to jump back, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Yun Zouchuan used the giant’s arm as a foothold to climb upwards, but the giant’s massive, round hand, like a tabletop, swung down towards them, along with its other arm, creating a powerful gust of wind!

Yun Zouchuan, too close to dodge, was struck by the giant’s hand and sent flying backward like a rag doll, crashing into the wall.

Wenren Tu dodged the giant’s attack and rushed towards Yun Zouchuan.

“Azou!” Zhu Ming yelled, a mix of fear and anger. She almost jumped up, but the movement sent a sharp pain through her back. She couldn’t move.

That girl, with her shiny black braid, always hardworking, never complaining, her strong body and incredible strength making her seem invincible, someone you didn’t have to worry about, someone whose genuine smile could be bought with a 6.66 yuan red envelope…

Now she lay on the ground, her braid undone, so small and fragile from above, vulnerable and helpless. She was just a normal human, susceptible to injury and death.

Wenren Tu’s heart nearly stopped. Thankfully, Yun Zouchuan quickly looked up, her voice calm. “I’m fine. Remember my ability?”

Zhu Ming realized she had been holding her breath and gasped.

Wenren Tu helped Yun Zouchuan up, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. Looking at the approaching stone giant, she felt a sense of dread. Its strength, speed, and intelligence had all increased significantly. It had been difficult to deal with before; now it seemed impossible.

Yun Zouchuan sat on the ground, hugging herself, her lips moving rapidly as she silently recited something. The scrapes and bruises on her body healed at an astonishing rate. When she opened her eyes again, her injuries were gone, but her face was pale, her energy depleted. The stone giant was almost upon them.

Wenren Tu forced a laugh. “Zhu Ming, I want a black jade urn for my ashes. Something classy and elegant.”

Zhu Ming said dryly, “You won’t even have a body if you die here. What do you need an urn for? I’ll get you a memorial tablet. More eco-friendly.”

Having stayed put for a while, Zhu Ming felt a little better. She cautiously moved her body. Still painful, but she should be able to get down from the giant’s head.

If Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan continued to dodge, they would be cornered. It was better to distract the giant and try to escape together.

Just as she was about to climb down, a loud scraping sound echoed through the passage.

The ground trembled slightly.

Zhu Ming, having the highest vantage point, looked towards the source of the sound but saw nothing…

Something was behind the corner of a passage to the left of the stone giant. Judging by the sound, it was also large and heavy, but it seemed to be dragging itself along the ground, rather than walking like the stone giant.

The stone giant stopped abruptly.

Silence descended upon the maze.

Wenren Tu looked up at Zhu Ming. “What’s going on? Did you see something?”

Zhu Ming shook her head. “No.”

Then, something unexpected happened. The stone giant looked around, checking the side passages near Wenren Tu. Seeing they were all dead ends, it turned and ran, abandoning its prey.

The ground shook as it ran, almost throwing Zhu Ming off. She clung to its head, giving up on climbing down, and yelled, “Follow me! Run!”

What could possibly make the powerful stone giant flee without hesitation? But they couldn’t even defeat the stone giant, let alone this unseen entity.

Wenren Tu quickly understood and, grabbing Yun Zouchuan’s hand, ran after the giant.

They followed it through three passages, then the giant suddenly stopped, turned, and, with a sweep of its arm, pushed Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan into a side passage, then continued running, carrying Zhu Ming.

Wenren Tu rolled on the ground, cursing. “Using me as bait?! You just wait! You can’t escape me!”

But just as Yun Zouchuan helped her up, and they were about to follow the sound of the giant’s footsteps, the trembling stopped.

The passage was silent. They searched the nearby corridors, but the stone giant, and Zhu Ming, were gone.

The only thing that remained was…

Scrape—

The sound of something dragging itself across the ground.

…

Unlike Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan, Zhu Ming had been stuck on the giant’s head, forced to endure its frantic run, its head bumping against her back and stomach, making her dizzy and nauseous.

The constant pounding continued. Zhu Ming looked back but didn’t see Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan. Her face paled.

How fast could this giant run?! It had even left them behind!

She had no idea where they were. Judging by the compass on her hand, they were far from their previous location.

She couldn’t stop the giant, but thankfully, it was slowing down. Zhu Ming breathed a sigh of relief, then looked ahead and saw a woman in a qipao and windbreaker standing in a corner.

Zhu Ming: “…”

Yin Yu: “…”

Zhu Ming’s face hardened. Straightening her back, she looked down at Yin Yu from her perch on the giant’s head, her expression condescending.

The stone giant also saw Yin Yu. No longer fleeing, it remembered its duty—guarding the treasure chest, although the chest was nowhere in sight.

It lunged at Yin Yu, cleverly blocking her escape route. Behind her was a dead end with a treasure chest.

“Make it stop, and I’ll share the contents of the chest with you,” Yin Yu offered.

Zhu Ming had no idea how to make it stop. She said coldly, “If you die, I can keep the entire chest for myself.”

Yin Yu, dodging the giant’s attacks, retreated towards the dead end. “In that case, I’ll just open it and see if there’s anything useful inside.”

She moved out of the giant’s reach and, grabbing the chest, threw it at the giant!

The white chest tumbled through the air. As Zhu Ming saw the design on the latch, the chest opened—a cloud of white smoke billowed out, obscuring their vision.

The giant’s movements faltered, its massive body tilting slightly, shaking Zhu Ming almost off its head. Just as she regained her balance, she was showered with dirt.

The white smoke cleared. Zhu Ming spat out the dirt in her mouth and glared at Yin Yu.

The chest had contained soil, the soil they needed for the cultivation task, but now it was all over her and the stone giant.

And for some reason, a deep pit had appeared in the passage. One of the giant’s legs was stuck, its body tilted at an awkward angle, completely blocking the passage.

It couldn’t move, but its arms and other leg were still free. As it thrashed around, the precious soil slid off its body, landing just out of reach.

Whether they wanted to collect the soil or escape this dead end, they would have to enter the giant’s attack range.

It was a dilemma. If Zhu Ming took advantage of the giant’s immobility and escaped, Yin Yu, alone, would be in a difficult situation.

But Yin Yu didn’t seem to realize this. She looked at Zhu Ming, covered in dirt, then suddenly turned away, covering her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

“Hahaha…”

Zhu Ming: “…”

Unable to contain herself any longer, Yin Yu turned back to Zhu Ming, a smile on her face, her eyes crinkling at the corners even though her mouth was covered, a dimple appearing on her cheek. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… Hee hee…”

A surge of anger coursed through Zhu Ming. She grabbed Zhuque, an arrow materializing instantly, its tip aimed at Yin Yu.

“What’s so funny?! You have such a low laugh threshold! Why don’t you become a professional laugh track?!”

The arrow blazed brightly, fueled by both Zhuque’s power and Zhu Ming’s anger.

Honestly, she should thank Yin Yu. If Yin Yu hadn’t been constantly pushing her buttons, she wouldn’t have known her ability could reach such intensity.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop laughing.” Yin Yu cleared her throat, forcing her smile away, trying to appear serious, but the amusement in her eyes was undeniable.

Zhu Ming’s anger intensified. Yin Yu always had this ambiguous, noncommittal attitude, yet she claimed not to be in love. Then what was it? Friendship? Familial affection? Zhu Ming refused to believe she was as unlucky as Wenren Tu, constantly encountering manipulative straight girls.

Yin Yu must be trying to confuse her with this ambiguous behavior, waiting for an opportunity to strike!

Seeing the increasingly bright arrow, Yin Yu raised her hands defensively. “I really didn’t mean to!” she said. “Mingming, you can’t stop it, can you? How about this, one of us distracts it while the other collects the soil, then we split it.”

Zhu Ming didn’t budge. “You’re wrong. I do know how to stop it. And this soil is all mine. As for you… considering you were lucky enough to open the chest for me, I’ll let you leave alive. But if you refuse, I won’t hesitate to send you on your way.”

Yin Yu had been quiet while Zhu Ming spoke, seemingly considering her offer. But she had a better idea. She crossed her arms, tilting her head, a faint smile on her lips, a hint of arrogance in her voice. “Or… I could kill you and keep all the soil for myself.”

The gaudy purple light and the rough stone walls of the maze created a sinister, unsettling atmosphere. Yin Yu stood there, as calm and composed as if she were strolling through a garden.

She seemed utterly confident, unfazed by the threat.

Zhu Ming didn’t waver. She knew she couldn’t appear weak in front of Yin Yu, or she would push her limits. So she couldn’t reveal… that she had no idea how to use a bow.

And she suspected Yin Yu wasn’t as confident as she appeared.

“If you could do that, why didn’t you do it from the beginning?” Zhu Ming’s voice was calm and steady. “You don’t understand this monster. You don’t know how to stop it. You can’t collect the soil without me distracting it. Come on, Yin Yu. You have such good luck. Why not leave and find another treasure chest?”

They stared at each other for a moment, neither backing down.

Zhu Ming’s hand, holding the bow and arrow, trembled slightly. The blazing arrow shot out, striking the wall behind Yin Yu, erupting in a shower of sparks.

Having missed, Zhu Ming felt a twinge of regret. She rubbed her aching back. “Leave now, or the next arrow will be aimed at you.”

Thus threatened, Yin Yu sighed, lowering her head demurely. “Alright. I didn’t expect you to see through me, Mingming. In that case, I’ll do as you say and leave. Remember to distract that… thing for me.”

Despite their animosity, Yin Yu seemed to trust Zhu Ming implicitly. Zhu Ming used the flaming arrow to distract the stone giant, and Yin Yu, taking advantage of the opportunity, climbed over it and escaped.

Without looking back, she walked away, her footsteps fading into the distance.

Zhu Ming waited patiently for half an hour. During this time, the stone giant, restless, occasionally moved its head and arms, searching for a target, but with no living creatures in sight, its movements were slow and infrequent. Zhu Ming adjusted her position, trying to find a comfortable way to lie on its head.

Half an hour later, seeing that Yin Yu hadn’t returned, having likely truly left, Zhu Ming sat up, put down Zhuque, and prepared to deal with the stone giant.

Chapter 41 The Quiz Show (3) p2

Inside the temple…

Wei Yuan was guarding the Sword and Shield Team’s table. His ability was electronic systems control. He could control anything from airplanes to excavators, but it was useless in this technologically backward instance. And since he wasn’t a fighter, he was tasked with guarding their belongings and working on the poetry question.

Xiao Lang was guarding the Lyre Team’s table. The other three had gone to the underground maze. He didn’t want to go down there anyway, so he stayed behind.

Wang Ziwei was guarding the Ruler Team’s table. The newcomer he had been with had died so quickly, making him nervous, so he stayed behind despite the newcomer in his team looking at him with disdain. That newcomer, on her first instance run, acted so arrogant and superior, he didn’t know if she was truly capable or just ignorant.

As the saying goes, three men make a play. Hungry and thirsty, to distract themselves, Xiao Lang and Wang Ziwei started chatting.

But beneath the surface camaraderie, they were both trying to glean information about the other teams. This was a competition. Not only had the Zhao brothers thought about the reward allocation, but so had the others. It was possible the other teams were hiding something, hoping to keep the rewards for themselves.

They tried to include Wei Yuan in their conversation, hoping to get some information out of him. The Zhao brothers seemed too intimidating, but Wei Yuan looked like an easy target, withdrawn and possibly gullible. This was the perfect opportunity.

But Wei Yuan ignored them, lost in his own thoughts. His aloofness annoyed Xiao Lang, who turned away, muttering, “What a stuck-up, effeminate wimp.”

Wang Ziwei leaned closer to Xiao Lang, a lewd grin on his face. “Well, he balances out the masculinity of his team, doesn’t he? They say men and women working together are more efficient. But he chose to team up with those three muscleheads. There were three pretty girls right there… Don’t you think…?”

He made a suggestive gesture with his hands, and they both burst into laughter.

Wei Yuan, focused on his assigned task, showed no reaction.

Disappointed by the lack of a reaction, Wang Ziwei and Xiao Lang lost interest and turned their attention back to what they could do.

Guarding the table meant they couldn’t leave the temple. Despite their friendly banter, they were both wary of each other. So their activities were limited to the temple. They couldn’t go search for materials, only work on the third exam question:

The great goddess descended upon the mortal realm.

On the first day, (…) arrogant (…) bled, paying the price for their pride.

On the second day, (…) malicious (…) were shattered, paying the price for their wickedness.

On the third day, (…) disrespectful (…) were thrown into the fire, paying the price for their insolence.

On the fourth day, (…) foolish (…) prostrated themselves, repenting, offering their loyal souls and hearts.

On the fifth day, the goddess illuminated the darkness, peace descended upon the land, and all beings submitted.

It was a fill-in-the-blank exercise, the same for all four teams.

Wang Ziwei suddenly had a realization. “Is this about the murals?”

Xiao Lang, who had been outside all morning, finally had time to examine the murals. “It is!” he exclaimed.

The goddess’s enemies in the mural corresponded to the descriptions in the poem: snakes shattered, frogs bleeding, owls burned, and humans bowing in submission.

Excited by their discovery, having made no progress all morning, they could finally complete one task.

Xiao Lang thought of the three women in his team and sighed. Tu Wei, with her mask, was silent as a mute, carrying a blade and radiating a chilling aura. Yin Yu, the most beautiful and gentle of the three, was completely uncooperative. And the newcomer, on her first instance run, was as helpful as a headless chicken.

He hadn’t even noticed the murals while he was outside. So obvious, yet none of them had noticed. You couldn’t rely on women for serious matters.

Xiao Lang and Wang Ziwei began counting. The animals in the mural were clearly depicted. Xiao Lang quickly counted the number of frogs, snakes, owls, and humans involved in the battle.

He filled in the blanks, then looked up to see Wang Ziwei filing his nails, his answer sheet blank.

Xiao Lang: “…”

Seeing Xiao Lang looking at him, Wang Ziwei, his expensive perm bouncing slightly, asked, “You’ve already finished?”

Xiao Lang suddenly felt a pang of doubt and regret. “Why aren’t you filling it in?”

Wang Ziwei feigned ignorance. “Filling what in? The answer sheet? I don’t think it’s that simple, so I haven’t written anything yet.”

“You…!” Xiao Lang’s face burned with anger. He jumped up, almost knocking over his chair.

If he hadn’t realized he was being played, he would be a complete idiot.

Wang Ziwei slowly stood up, his joints cracking. He stretched and sneered. “Don’t blame others for your own stupidity. What? Want to fight? I’m waiting!”

Xiao Lang, his eyes bloodshot, lunged at him, his fist raised. Just before hitting Wang Ziwei, he stopped.

He slowly lowered his hand, chuckling coldly. “You’re trying to get me to break the rules, aren’t you? Dream on, you bastard!”

Wang Ziwei, unfazed by the insults, chuckled and sat back down, resuming his nail filing.

…

In the underground maze…

Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, and Yun Zouchuan stopped in front of a door.

It was a door that couldn’t be broken or climbed over, requiring them to answer a question to proceed.

Looking at the stone display on the door, Wenren Tu felt a headache coming on. So this was the “quiz show” part of the instance. They tried going around it, but every path led to another door with a question.

They chose the door on the leftmost path. It was a relatively simple Sudoku puzzle, a 7×7 grid. Zhu Ming, chewing on her fingernail, slowly filled in the numbers.

Wenren Tu, bored, started counting the tiles on the floor.

The floor was paved with square stone tiles. Her gaze drifted towards the end of the passage, where she saw a half-tile with a partial design on it.

She was about to take a closer look when the door in front of them rumbled upwards, opening.

“Let’s go, Atu.”

Wenren Tu quickly followed, grumbling, “The lighting here is terrible! Purple? Seriously? Who designed this place?”

The purple fluorescent stones, cut with multiple facets, cast beams of light that scattered across the walls and floor, refracting and creating even more beams when they hit other stones.

The chaotic purple light reminded her of some cheap, gaudy nightclub, vulgar and disorienting.

Zhu Ming said, “Mere mortals like us can’t comprehend the gods’ taste.”

They walked further down the passage. Zhu Ming suddenly grabbed Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan. “Look!”

To their right was a dead end, but at the end of it, a large, white treasure chest!

So there were items in this maze.

Wenren Tu drew her blade and used it to open the chest, which, thankfully, wasn’t locked. A puff of white smoke erupted. A moment later, they gathered around the chest and looked inside, finding food: coconut juice and sandwiches.

They quickly ate, then turned to leave.

Exiting the dead end, they were about to continue following the left-hand rule when they stopped, staring at the path ahead.

Yun Zouchuan, feeling drowsy after eating, asked, “Boss, wasn’t there a three-way intersection here before?”

Why was there a four-way intersection now?

Zhu Ming: “How would I know? Atu?”

Wenren Tu hesitated. “I don’t know…”

They looked back. The path behind them had also changed.

Although the maze’s layout had shifted for some reason, they couldn’t just stand there. Zhu Ming looked down at the compass symbol on her hand. The arrow had moved slightly.

“Keep going?” Wenren Tu asked.

“Yes,” Zhu Ming said decisively. “Not only has the maze changed, but our position has also shifted. Follow the compass back to the anchor point.”

They followed the compass, Yun Zouchuan trying to leave marks on the walls and floor, but the environment couldn’t be altered. Her attempts failed.

They didn’t know how large this maze was, but so far, they hadn’t encountered any other teams.

Another obstacle appeared: a door with an English reading comprehension question on the display.

Looking at the four similar answer choices, A, B, C, and D, Zhu Ming’s hand trembled. English, her nemesis, her academic nightmare!

She immediately stepped back, pushing Yun Zouchuan forward. “You choose.”

Yun Zouchuan shook her head. “There are too many words I haven’t learned yet.”

“I’ll do it!” Wenren Tu puffed out her chest proudly. “I passed the CET-4 and CET-6 exams!” Although she had likely forgotten everything she learned years ago.

With unwavering confidence, she pressed C.

A second later, beep! The screen turned red, a large “X” appearing on it.

At the same time, they felt the ground tremble. They turned to see sharp spikes emerging from the cracks between the stone tiles on the floor and walls.

“Run!” Zhu Ming grabbed Yun Zouchuan and sprinted back the way they came.

The tiles were large enough for them to step on, but once the spikes from the opposite walls reached the center, they would be trapped! Then Zhu Ming noticed that the tiles on the walls were staggered. How devious!

“Didn’t Atu-jie pass CET-4 and CET-6?” Yun Zouchuan asked, bewildered.

Wenren Tu, running, replied, “Yeah, but I barely passed.” She had figured it was better to just choose an answer quickly instead of wasting time.

The spikes grew longer, their escape route shrinking. Zhu Ming dropped to the ground and slid through the gap at the bottom of the walls.

They narrowly escaped the spike-filled passage. The spikes, having reached the opposite wall, slowly retracted. Everything returned to normal. Zhu Ming raised her hand solemnly. “Let me handle this. You two wait at the intersection.”

She pressed D and slid out again as the spikes emerged.

Next, she pressed A and managed to run out before the spikes could reach her.

Finally, she pressed B, and the door opened with a rumble.

Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan looked at Zhu Ming, their expressions a mix of disbelief and resignation. A one in four chance, and she had managed to choose the correct answer last. Her luck was undeniable.

Zhu Ming coughed. “What? I’m not good at English.”

They continued down the passage. Perhaps there was a rule that all treasure chests were located in dead ends, because they soon found another white chest at the end of a short corridor.

Wenren Tu examined it, then flipped open the latch, which was shaped like a golden horse’s head, intricately designed.

“These chests are different,” Zhu Ming observed. “The latch on the previous chest wasn’t like this.”

Wenren Tu: “Let’s open it and see.”

She lifted the lid. A thick cloud of white smoke billowed out, and a powerful force slammed into her, sending her flying backward.

Thud!

Wenren Tu landed hard, wincing. She looked up to see a terrifying stone giant standing in front of the chest.

The giant had emerged from the chest along with the white smoke, instantly growing to its full size. It was this that had sent her and Yun Zouchuan flying. Strange, where was Zhu Ming…?

Wenren Tu looked around, finally looking up at the giant’s massive form.

Zhu Ming was perched on its head, precariously holding onto the ceiling. Her luck, as always, was exceptional. The giant had launched her upwards.

The walls of the maze reached the ceiling, but the space was tall and spacious, at least five meters high.

The stone giant was almost as tall, its head nearly touching the ceiling.

Chapter 41 The Quiz Show (3) p1

Attack, or continue the stalemate?

Zhu Ming stared at Yin Yu for a moment, then, placing a hand on her waist, pulled her closer and pressed her against the tree trunk, reversing their positions.

Yin Yu leaned against the tree, a few leaves fluttering down around her shoulders, the smile on her face a little too genuine.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the ground. Zhu Ming, shrouded in shadow, leaned closer to Yin Yu, lowering her voice menacingly. “You don’t really think I can’t do anything to you, do you?”

The woman against the tree swayed slightly, like a vine in the breeze, adjusting her position for comfort. Instead of retreating, she tilted her head back, a playful smile on her lips. “What do you want to do to me?”

Good. Very good.

Zhu Ming’s competitive spirit flared. Her hand trailed up Yin Yu’s slender arm, then… with a perfectly straight face, she started tickling her relentlessly.

“Pffft…” Before Yin Yu could react, she burst out laughing, trying to dodge, but the limited space made it impossible.

She hadn’t expected Zhu Ming to resort to tickling. Even a god wouldn’t classify this as an attack.

“Alright, alright! You win! I surrender!” Yin Yu, always pragmatic, quickly conceded defeat.

But having finally gained the upper hand, Zhu Ming wasn’t about to let go so easily. She maintained her serious expression, a cold sneer in her heart. Take that, you troublemaker!

Yin Yu, helpless, her laughter shaking her body, her face flushed, seeing Zhu Ming’s determination to torment her, her eyes sparkling with amusement,

decided to use her usual tactic.

Since she couldn’t escape, she would embrace the situation. Let’s see if Zhu Ming could handle it.

Yin Yu, who had been curled up, suddenly straightened, her chest pressing against Zhu Ming’s, the smooth silk of her qipao brushing against Zhu Ming’s skin. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, the sound lingering in the air.

Zhu Ming abruptly jumped back, creating distance between them. She steadied herself and looked at Yin Yu, who was leaning against the tree, watching her with amusement.

Zhu Ming’s face burned. She pressed her lips together, her voice a mix of embarrassment and anger. “You… shameless!”

But no matter how Zhu Ming treated her, even when insulting her, Yin Yu didn’t seem offended, as if she lacked the emotional responses of a normal person, immune to both desire and pain.

Perhaps because of this, she didn’t seem to consider the consequences of her actions, simply using everything at her disposal, including herself.

The thought made Zhu Ming’s heart clench. She looked into Yin Yu’s clear, dispassionate eyes, devoid of malice or any other emotion, only amusement.

Dappled sunlight danced around them like butterflies. As the flush faded from Yin Yu’s cheeks, her expression returning to its usual serene mask, the turmoil in Zhu Ming’s heart subsided, replaced by a cold indifference.

This Yin Yu… she wasn’t human, no matter how human she appeared.

“Having fun?” Zhu Ming took a couple of steps back, sneering. “Fine. You win. Let’s see how long you can keep this up.”

She turned and walked away.

“Nice new weapon,” Yin Yu called out from behind her.

Zhu Ming didn’t stop, didn’t even acknowledge the comment, but she understood. Being able to bring a weapon into the instance meant there would be opportunities for combat.

…

Zhu Ming returned to the front of the temple and placed the empty clay pot on the table.

“Where’s the water?” Deng Yan asked, seeing Zhu Ming return empty-handed. The other two teams had successfully brought back water. They had all gone in the same direction. Why hadn’t Zhu Ming?

Zhu Ming replied, “There was a… slight mishap. Let’s look at the other clues first.”

Deng Yan looked displeased but didn’t press the issue. “Fine. Go ahead. The murals are simple. They might be clues for the poetry question. Nothing else seems important. I searched the dormitories. They’re all the same, just a single bed in each. The placement of the beds is interesting, but I don’t know what it means. I didn’t enter the other teams’ rooms, so I don’t know if they’re the same. However…”

She lowered her voice. “I found a passage leading underground. In our dormitory.”

Zhu Ming: “You didn’t go in?”

Deng Yan: “I didn’t dare go alone. I was waiting for you.”

Zhu Ming: “Alright, we’ll go down together later.”

“Okay.”

They fell silent, having little else to say to each other. They were strangers, forced to work together by the instance.

Zhu Ming turned to look at the smaller statue inside the temple. She walked over and circled it, examining it closely. It was “small” only in comparison to the one outside, still taller than a person, and, being indoors, protected from the elements, much more intricate and detailed. Offerings of fruit, flowers, and other items surrounded it, piled high like a small mountain.

The six-armed goddess statue was in the same pose as the larger one, but there were four additional stone carvings at its feet: a frog, a snake, an owl, and a human. These smaller statues, all kneeling in poses of reverence, complemented the murals on the walls.

The murals were simple. The one on the left depicted a group of snakes, frogs, owls, and humans attacking the six-armed goddess, who sent large birds, gorillas, and monkey-like creatures to fight them. The goddess emerged victorious, the snakes dismembered, the frogs bleeding, the owls thrown into a fire, and the humans surrendering, becoming her devout followers.

Zhu Ming then looked at the mural on the right. This one was much more peaceful, depicting the goddess as a benevolent ruler.

Her sword and shield were invincible. She held the moon aloft, illuminating the night, her ruler guiding their work, her book and lyre teaching them knowledge and art. Simple human figures, holding flowers and fruit, danced and sang around her. Behind them, the snakes, frogs, and owls had also become her followers, while the large birds and beasts that had fought for her stood beside her, sharing in the offerings, a scene of harmony and prosperity.

Zhu Ming looked closely at the mural on the left. The long beaks and slender legs of the large birds looked exactly like the herons at the lake. She thought for a moment. She knew how to get the water now.

She picked up the clay pot and left again, returning a short while later with a pot of clear water.

Yun Zouchuan, seeing only water and no soil, was puzzled. “Is it all sand outside?”

Zhu Ming shook her head. “There’s soil, but it doesn’t seem… right. Let’s wait. I want to find clean soil.”

Yun Zouchuan said, “By the way, someone from the Sword and Shield Team came over and asked me how to plant the seeds. I told him to bury them in soil and water them every day, not too much, not too little. I don’t know if he understood.”

“Whatever.”

…

Outside the temple, the Sword and Shield Team…

The triplets were digging in a damp patch of ground.

Zhao Shanhai, the oldest, asked his brothers, “Did you get it?”

Zhao Shanhu, the youngest and most cunning of the three, shook his head. “That girl is watching too closely. No opportunity.”

In the minds of most people, women were easy targets, especially the all-female team next door, whose member seemed to be an expert in the first task.

This was too good an opportunity to pass up. They had initially intended to just ask the Moon Team for help with the cultivation task, but Zhao Shanhu had a brilliant idea, remembering Examiner Yaya’s words: The gods’ favor is limited. The lower your scores on the first three tasks, the more difficult the final task will be.

He pulled his brothers aside and explained his theory. “It’s obvious. This is a competition. The higher the team’s score, the better the reward. Since the reward is a fixed amount, it means that if one team gets more, the other teams get less. Even if all four teams get perfect scores, we’ll only get a quarter of the reward. And the reward is linked to completing the instance, so we have to get the most rewards!”

Zhao Shanhai smacked him on the head. “Get to the point!”

Zhao Shanhu rubbed his head. “None of us are good at these tasks. No matter what we do, our score will be low. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get the most rewards. As long as the other teams’ scores are even lower, we’ll get the biggest share.”

Zhao Shanhe’s eyes widened in understanding. “Little brother, you’re so smart!”

The three identical-looking men huddled together, whispering, and decided to target the Moon Team first. Zhao Shanhu came up with a brilliant plan to increase their team’s score, lower the Moon Team’s score, and avoid arousing suspicion.

After all, the exam lasted for several days. If the other team retaliated and sabotaged their work, it would be disastrous.

His plan was to switch the seeds.

He had observed that each team had one seed, and they all looked the same.

But when they submitted their finished work, since each team was assigned different herbs, the Moon Team’s plant would be counted towards the Sword and Shield Team’s score, achieving their goal effortlessly.

Delighted by his younger brother’s plan, Zhao Shanhai slapped him on the back. “You’re the smartest of us three! Good job! We’ll do as you say!”

They split up. Zhao Shanhai went to get water, while Zhao Shanhe and Zhao Shanhu tried to switch the seeds.

But Yun Zouchuan had the seed in her pocket, her hand never leaving it, sitting there motionless. They had to abandon their plan for now.

Zhao Shanhai rubbed his buzz cut. “We’ll switch the seeds when they plant it. If that doesn’t work, we’ll find a chance to dig it up and replace it.”

“Alright, let’s do it.”

The three brothers returned to the temple with the soil, only to find a small pot of water on the Moon Team’s table, the flowerpot empty.

How could they plant anything without soil? And how could they switch the seeds if nothing was planted?

Zhao Shanhe asked with feigned concern, “You’ve got the water. Why aren’t you planting the herbs yet? What if you run out of time and they don’t grow? Look, we have so much soil. We can share some with you.”

Yun Zouchuan shook her head. “Our team leader said she’ll find clean soil.”

Although the three brothers looked identical, their personalities were distinct. Zhao Shanhai was aggressive, Zhao Shanhe was straightforward, and Zhao Shanhu was cunning.

Now, the aggressive Zhao Shanhai forced a friendly smile, pulling his brother back. “Why are you so enthusiastic? You’ll scare them! Mind your own business! And look at the soil you dug up! It’s all rocks and sand! Go and dig some more!”

Zhao Shanhe felt wronged. Big brother, they had all dug the soil together!

Zhao Shanhu quickly pushed his brother away. “Go on, big brother! Go dig some more soil!” Stop making things worse!

…

Zhu Ming and Deng Yan were busy with something else. In the center of their dormitory room was a square trapdoor leading to a dark passage.

They descended the stairs. As they were completely enveloped by darkness, they realized their suppressed abilities were restored.

Faint purple fluorescent stones, embedded in the walls at intervals, provided minimal illumination, just enough to see the path ahead.

They walked for about five minutes, then the passage widened, leading to a three-way intersection: left, forward, and right.

They chose the left path, which soon led to another intersection.

This was clearly a maze. Not daring to venture too deep, they returned to the surface.

Back at their table, Wenren Tu had also returned, covered in sweat. It was the hottest part of the day. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead.

“Couldn’t find any metal, just wood.”

To forge a dagger, they needed metal, a hammer, and a mold. They could theoretically have Yun Zouchuan hammer the metal manually if they couldn’t find a hammer, but even then, it seemed impossible.

Half a day had passed, and the Moon Team hadn’t completed a single task. The other teams weren’t doing much better. Only the Ruler Team had planted their seed.

Driven by hunger and thirst, the participants gathered in the main hall.

The newcomers, unfamiliar with instance etiquette, looked around the empty hall and asked, “When is the examiner taking us to eat?”

There were dormitories and bathrooms here, but no dining hall.

The heat made their hunger and thirst even more unbearable.

Zhao Shanhai said, “I don’t think it’s coming back. It’s just messing with us.”

Zhao Shanhu agreed. “Exactly. Restricting food is a common tactic in instances, forcing everyone to participate. If we want to eat, we have to find it ourselves.”

Zhao Shanhe pointed at the offerings surrounding the smaller statue. “What about these?”

Despite his suggestion, no one dared to touch them. Examiner Yaya had repeatedly emphasized the gods’ importance in this instance. What if eating their offerings was a taboo?

Everyone was hesitant, but no one touched the offerings.

While the others were gathered around the statue, Yin Yu, who had been sitting at her table, suddenly stood up and walked towards the dormitories, Tu Wei following closely behind. The newcomer in their team quickly followed.

Zhu Ming said, “Let’s go back to the dormitory. The food is underground.”

Wenren Tu, having just returned, didn’t know about the underground passage. Confused, she was dragged along.

Then the members of Bai Lianxue’s team also headed towards the dormitories, the Zhao brothers following suit.

Within moments, all four teams had decided to explore the underground maze. There was no food above ground except for the offerings around the statue, and while there were birds in the oasis outside, it was unclear who would be eating whom.

Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, and Deng Yan descended the winding staircase. Hearing it was a maze, Wenren Tu said, “We need to stick together. Don’t wander off. We could get separated.”

Deng Yan suddenly asked, “What if we can’t find our way out?”

Wenren Tu replied, “We’ll find a way. If all else fails, we’ll just follow the wall.”

Deng Yan shook her head. “Give me your hands.”

She touched Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu’s hands. A compass-like symbol appeared on each of their hands. Although it was just a drawing, the needle moved. How strange.

Deng Yan explained, “My ability is called ‘Human Compass.’ No matter where you are, the red arrow always points towards the anchor point. I’ve set the anchor point on this stone.” It could be used on both people and objects, incredibly useful for regrouping.

“If you get lost, just follow the compass back.”

Zhu Ming suddenly turned to her. “Why don’t you switch with Yun Zouchuan? You can watch over our table.” A support-type ability like hers was better suited for a safer environment.

Deng Yan, having had the same thought, nodded. “Alright. I also want to take another look at the poetry question.”

But the moment she reached the surface, the compass symbols on Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu’s hands vanished. Deng Yan and Yun Zouchuan had to carry the exam papers and all their tools into the dormitory.

Deng Yan sat on the stairs by the entrance, maintaining her ability. If anyone entered, she could immediately see them.

As for Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, and Yun Zouchuan, they followed the left-hand rule, venturing deeper into the maze.

…

Chapter 40 The Quiz Show (2)

Once the groups were formed, Examiner Yaya flapped its wings, and a faint light flashed on each side of the square platform beneath the six-armed goddess statue. Four different patterns appeared, each with four names beneath it.

These were the team assignments. Everyone instinctively searched for their name and moved to the corresponding side of the platform.

Based on the patterns, the four teams were:

Moon Team: Deng Yan, Yun Zouchuan, Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu
Lyre Team: Xiao Lang, Tu Wei, Yin Yu, Zhang Xiaoya
Ruler Team: Bai Lianxue, Wang Ziwei, Sun Ningning, Zhou Xujin
Sword and Shield Team: Wei Yuan, Zhao Shanhai, Zhao Shanhe, Zhao Shanhu

Those who had intended to hide their real names felt a twinge of annoyance. Why display their names so openly?

Examiner Yaya, unconcerned with the examinees’ feelings, circled in the air, then landed and said, “Now, I’ll announce a few important rules. Please pay attention.”

“First: the gods favor devout believers. Offer them herbs, praises, and works of art. The more sincere the offerings, the more blessings you’ll receive.”

“Second: fighting and other disrespectful behavior before the gods are strictly prohibited!”

“Third: do not look directly at anything disrespectful!”

Having finished, Yaya flew into the air. “Follow me.”

The crow led the sixteen participants into the grand temple, where four large tables were arranged. A smaller statue, about as tall as a person, stood in the center of the temple, surrounded by offerings of fruit, flowers, and other items.

Further inside, they saw four adjacent rooms, their windows made of stained glass, complementing the vibrant murals and reliefs within the temple. The doors were marked with the teams’ respective totems.

Examiner Yaya hovered in the air, forcing them to look up. “These are your dormitories. These are your exam tables. I’ll now announce the first three exam questions. You have four days to complete them. The more perfect your work, the higher your score, the more favor you’ll receive from the gods, and the better your chances in the final assessment on the fifth day.”

“You are all devout believers. This exam will test your devotion to the gods. Each team will complete three tasks: cultivation, crafting, and poetry. Detailed instructions are on your exam tables. Your finished works will be offered to the great goddess. Please complete them promptly!”

After the announcement, the Zhao brothers’ faces fell. Cultivating herbs? Crafting? They couldn’t even keep a weed alive, let alone cultivate herbs, and crafting was out of the question.

Examiner Yaya, unconcerned with their abilities, considered them all devout believers who would obediently complete the exam.

“Begin! Begin!” it cawed, flying away.

“Examiner, I have a few questions,” Xiao Lang, the only male member of the Lyre Team, called out. “Are we allowed to go anywhere in this instance?”

Examiner Yaya cackled. “What do I care? What do I care? Caw! Caw! Caw! But as your examiner, I’ll offer a friendly reminder: the gods’ favor is limited. The lower your scores on the first three tasks, the more difficult the final task will be! Caw!”

It lifted its tail and dropped a white bird dropping, which landed squarely on Xiao Lang’s head. His face darkened, but he didn’t dare take his anger out on the examiner, only watching as it flew away.

The Zhao brothers chuckled, not bothering to hide their amusement. The more embarrassed Xiao Lang looked, the funnier they found it.

But their laughter soon died.

With the examiner gone, they had to focus on the exam. They found their assigned tables, marked with their team’s totem. Two sheets of paper and some tools were placed on each table.

One sheet listed the detailed exam questions.

“Question 1: Cultivation.

Please use the seeds and pot provided to cultivate a pot of herbs. Note: Each team has different herbs. Do not mix them.

Question 2: Crafting.

Please use needle felting techniques to create the item shown in the diagram. Notes: 1. Each team has different materials. Please find them yourselves. 2. Please complete your work within the designated area on the table.

Question 3: Poetry.

Please complete the poem provided. Note: Answer sheet attached.”

The other sheet was for the poetry question, a fill-in-the-blank exercise that looked simple but offered no clues.

Zhao Shanhe, the second oldest triplet, blurted out, “Cultivating herbs?! We can’t even keep weeds alive! How are we supposed to grow herbs?!”

Zhao Shanhai, the oldest, turned to their only non-family member, Wei Yuan. “Which of these can you do?”

Wei Yuan’s eye twitched. He took off his glasses and wiped them. “I’m a programmer.” Meaning he wasn’t good at poetry either.

“What’s your education level?”

“I just finished my master’s degree.”

Zhao Shanhai said, “Hey, a master’s student must be well-educated! You focus on the poetry question. We’ll figure out the other two.”

Unlike the all-male Sword and Shield Team, the other teams had female members, but that didn’t mean they were all skilled in gardening, crafting, or poetry.

At the Moon Team’s table…

Zhu Ming leaned on the table. “We can leave the cultivation to Azou. She takes care of our little vegetable garden. If they’re ordinary seeds, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Yun Zouchuan nodded. “I can try even if they’re not ordinary.”

Zhu Ming continued, “For the crafting task, we need to make a dagger. We have a furnace and a clay pot, but we’re missing materials. We’ll split up and search for them later. We all have experience; we should know what to do.”

It was clear that the three newcomers were in the Lyre and Ruler Teams. They were currently being briefed on instance basics. The all-female Moon Team and the all-male Sword and Shield Team were all experienced participants.

The temple was large and spacious, but there were no dividers. The four tables were arranged openly, making it impossible to hide their progress from the other teams.

The Moon Team’s table was on the left, near the entrance. The Sword and Shield Team was beside them, further inside. The Ruler Team was opposite them, and the Lyre Team was diagonally across.

Zhu Ming and Yin Yu were the furthest apart. Neither looked at the other, but that didn’t mean Zhu Ming wasn’t aware of Yin Yu’s presence.

She picked up the clay pot. “The cultivation task seems the easiest for now. I’ll go find some water. What are you two planning to do? And someone needs to stay here and guard our stuff.”

The tools on each table were different, related to their assigned tasks. With the teams competing, they were all wary of each other.

Yun Zouchuan volunteered. “I’ll stay. Boss, can you also bring back some soil?”

Wenren Tu looked at Deng Yan, the newcomer they knew the least. “Which area do you want to search?”

Deng Yan hesitated. “I’ll check the temple and the dormitories.”

Wenren Tu said, “Alright, then I’ll go outside and see if I can find any metal.”

Like the Moon Team, the other teams also divided their tasks and went to search for clues after reading the instructions.

Zhu Ming, carrying the clay pot and a small shovel, walked outside. An oasis must have water, but she didn’t know if there was suitable soil for growing herbs. She had never been to a desert before and was unfamiliar with the environment.

She carefully observed her surroundings, leaving markers as she walked, and gradually heard strange sounds. It seemed the environment up ahead was favorable, the sounds of large birds flapping their wings and splashing water, along with the croaking of frogs and the chirping of insects.

Pushing aside the increasingly dense foliage, she felt like she had stumbled into a swamp in the south, not an oasis in a desert.

A small lake, like a sapphire, shimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by lush grass. A dozen unusually large herons waded through the water, their long legs moving gracefully, clearly claiming this lake as their territory.

The muddy banks were covered in tall, thick grass, a few frogs hopping among the reeds.

Despite the idyllic scene, a faint, putrid odor lingered in the air. The depths of the lake seemed… unclean.

Comparing her height to the herons, Zhu Ming was surprised by their size. What did they eat to grow so tall?

Besides Zhu Ming, others had also arrived at the lake, one after another. The oasis wasn’t large. Following the vegetation was always a good strategy.

Zhu Ming from the Moon Team, Yin Yu from the Lyre Team, Zhou Xujin and Wang Ziwei from the Ruler Team, and one of the Zhao triplets from the Sword and Shield Team.

The five of them appeared, but none approached the lake.

The herons’ eyes were blood red, a clear warning. And they could all feel their abilities suppressed, meaning brute force wasn’t an option in this instance.

Zhu Ming glanced at Yin Yu, who was standing about three meters away, and sighed, holding the clay pot. “Can you stop following me around?”

Yin Yu smiled. “No.”

Zhu Ming took a step back, leaning against a tree trunk. “You refuse to tell me your purpose, yet you insist on following me, Yin Yu. Are you that bored?”

Yin Yu said lightly, “Perhaps.”

Zhu Ming: “…”

Neither of them moved.

Nearby, within the Ruler Team, Wang Ziwei whispered to Zhou Xujin, the newcomer, “We can’t just go over there.”

Zhou Xujin asked nervously, “Then what do we do?”

There were two newcomers in their team, himself and a woman. Since the woman knew Bai Lianxue, they naturally stuck together. Zhou Xujin, knowing no one and afraid of being alone, followed Wang Ziwei.

Wang Ziwei lowered his voice. “Are you stupid? We let someone else try first. See those two women over there? Come with me. Just agree with everything I say, understand?”

Zhou Xujin nodded quickly. “Understood.”

They walked towards Zhu Ming and Yin Yu. Wang Ziwei called out, “Hey! Since you’re here first, you go ahead and get the water!”

Zhou Xujin echoed, “Yeah, you go first.”

Under the shade of the trees, Zhu Ming and Yin Yu turned to look at them. One expressionless, the other with a faint smile. Wang Ziwei suddenly faltered. “You see, I have a newcomer with me. It’s not very convenient…”

Before either Zhu Ming or Yin Yu could respond, someone else stepped forward.

It was Zhao Shanhai from the Sword and Shield Team.

“What’s so inconvenient about it? I think it’s more convenient with more people,” Zhao Shanhai said, approaching them with a sneer. His large build was intimidating, but his smile seemed genuine. “Don’t waste time. Just get the water and go back.”

Wang Ziwei frowned. This Zhao Shanhai… he was clearly no match for him physically. And without their abilities, he and Zhou Xujin combined were no match for Zhao Shanhai’s brute strength.

He was instinctively afraid to antagonize him, but why had this man even stepped forward?

Wang Ziwei asked, “What’s it to you? Can’t you get your own water?”

Zhao Shanhai cracked his knuckles. “I just don’t like seeing women being bullied.”

Wang Ziwei gritted his teeth. “Cut the crap! Fine! You win!”

The examiner had warned them against fighting before the gods, but the statue wasn’t visible here, so perhaps that rule didn’t apply. He had noticed the Zhao triplets glancing at the Moon Team’s table earlier, their expressions sly and calculating. The Moon Team hadn’t noticed, but he had a clear view from across the temple.

Putting on a show of chivalry… who knew what this man was planning?

Wang Ziwei turned to Zhou Xujin, gesturing towards the lake. “You go get the water.”

Zhou Xujin said nervously, “They won’t attack me, will they?”

Wang Ziwei glanced back at Zhao Shanhai. “If you can convince someone else to go, be my guest.”

Zhou Xujin said honestly, “I can’t. My abilities are suppressed. Why doesn’t he go?”

Seeing that they were no longer bothering Zhu Ming, Zhao Shanhai also walked towards the lake, putting on an innocent facade. “There are two of you from your team. You go first. You wouldn’t bully me, a lone individual, would you?”

Zhou Xujin, holding the clay pot, hesitated. Everyone, both from his own team and the others, wanted him to go first.

Wang Ziwei urged him, “What are you waiting for? I’m here watching over you! If you don’t trust my experience, then don’t follow me! Go do your own thing!”

“Fine, fine! I’m going!”

Zhou Xujin picked up a thick branch and cautiously approached the lake, holding the clay pot. The herons, either bathing or preening, didn’t seem to react to his presence.

He breathed a sigh of relief, put down the branch he had intended to use to shoo them away, and squatted down, filling the pot with water.

Just as he lifted the pot, a shadow fell over him. Before he could look up, a long, sharp beak pierced his skull like a needle through jelly.

“Holy shit!” Wang Ziwei yelled, stunned by the sudden violence. Zhou Xujin collapsed silently, half his body falling into the water, quickly staining it red. The clay pot splashed back into the lake.

The commotion alerted the other herons, who crowded around Zhou Xujin’s body, their sharp beaks tearing at his flesh, their shrieks echoing through the air.

They seemed to be enjoying their human buffet.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Zhao Shanhai ran to the other side of the lake, quickly scooped up some water, and ran back.

Wang Ziwei followed close behind, seeing that the clay pot had drifted away. He jumped into the water, retrieved it, and ran, even faster than Zhao Shanhai, afraid the herons would be more eager to attack him now that he was in the water.

The herons shrieked and flapped their wings, chasing after them for a short distance before landing heavily, unable to fly for long due to their size. They weren’t persistent and returned to the lake, wading through the water.

The attack had been swift and brutal. Zhou Xujin’s flesh was quickly stripped from his bones, leaving only a bloody skeleton. The herons dragged it into the water. The surface of the lake returned to its tranquil state.

The herons dispersed, leisurely preening their feathers.

Zhu Ming and Yin Yu hadn’t moved.

“Are you wary of me?” Yin Yu tilted her head. “Fighting is prohibited in this instance. You don’t need to be so cautious.”

Not be cautious?

Zhu Ming scoffed, looking at her incredulously. “Just because we can’t fight doesn’t mean we can’t kill. Are you naive, or do you think I’m naive? We just witnessed a prime example. Aren’t you wary of me?”

Yin Yu was silent for a moment, then sighed softly. “So, I’ve become such a despicable person in your eyes.”

“Hahaha.” Zhu Ming forced a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Do you think you have a good image? Refusing to answer any questions… who would trust you?”

Yin Yu looked at Zhu Ming intently, then started walking towards her.

Zhu Ming uncrossed her arms, her eyes narrowed, every muscle tense. Yin Yu, seemingly oblivious to her wariness, continued to approach until she stood directly in front of Zhu Ming.

Although there were no statues here, and it didn’t seem like anything they did would violate the examiner’s second rule, considering how quickly that participant had died, Zhu Ming thought it best not to disobey the examiner’s instructions, especially since the invitation specifically stated: Listen to the examiner.

There was a tree behind her. Unless she wanted to press herself against the trunk and squeeze past, there was no way to avoid Yin Yu.

They were practically nose to nose, close enough to hear each other’s breathing. Zhu Ming took shallow breaths, afraid of accidentally touching Yin Yu.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice low. “Want to fight? Go ahead and hit me first! Don’t try to provoke me!”

Yin Yu looked at her carefully, her eyes reflecting Zhu Ming’s image like a mirror. “Since you think I’m despicable, I might as well live up to your expectations.”

Despicable indeed, trying to goad her into breaking the rules.

Zhu Ming blustered, “Don’t provoke me! Every rule has a loophole! Even if you can handle it, what about your teammates?!”

Yin Yu reached out and gently tucked a strand of Zhu Ming’s hair behind her ear. “You wouldn’t.”

Zhu Ming grabbed her hand, her voice a warning. “Don’t touch me! And don’t underestimate me! I’m much more ruthless than you think!”

Yin Yu shook her head slightly. “Your words are much crueler than your actions.”

Zhu Ming: “…” That certainty, as if Yin Yu knew her intimately, infuriated her!

“And you’re right,” Yin Yu said, her voice soft and close, their bodies almost touching, her breath warm against Zhu Ming’s skin. “I am trying to provoke you. After all, I’m so despicable. So, Mingming, are you going to attack me, or are we going to continue like this?”

Chapter 39 The Quiz Show (1)

“We cordially invite you to our world: Quiz Show. See you in three days.”

Seeing the invitation’s message, Yun Zouchuan breathed a sigh of relief. Good, it wouldn’t interfere with her midterms.

But having to take another test in an instance? Was this a cruel joke, or just a coincidence?

Zhu Ming glanced at Yun Zouchuan’s invitation, identical to her own, and snorted. “How considerate of them, scheduling instances during school breaks, so it doesn’t interfere with work or studies.”

After Yun Zouchuan returned to school for her exams, Zhu Ming contacted Wenren Tu and learned that “Quiz Show” was a new instance, not yet registered with the Bureau.

Wenren Tu told Zhu Ming to wait for her and arrived that afternoon. “I’m free at the moment. I have to enter an instance after my break anyway. Might as well join you in a new one instead of one that’s already been documented.”

She sighed dramatically, collapsing onto the sofa. “My coworkers are so annoying. I hate them.”

“Oh? You’re not even a full-time employee yet, and you’re already fighting with your coworkers?” Zhu Ming’s ears perked up, eager for gossip.

Wenren Tu’s face darkened. “They all say I only got into the Bureau because of connections, that’s why I’m so arrogant. Bullshit! I’ve toned it down considerably!”

They didn’t like her casual attitude, her disrespect for her superiors, her hair, her clothes, her flexible work schedule, her pickiness with instances.

Remembering their words, Wenren Tu felt a surge of nausea. “Especially those creepy old men! My supervisor doesn’t even care, but they keep nagging me! They’re all bootlickers and yes-men, trying to apply their disgusting corporate tactics to the Bureau. They pretend to give me advice, then gossip behind my back, saying I think I’m better than everyone else because I have family in management, that I dress like a slut and I’m not serious about my job.”

There were even more disgusting rumors, too vile for Wenren Tu to repeat, let alone share with Zhu Ming. She had always preferred the company of women, her only male interactions being with her family members. She hadn’t realized how truly repulsive and disgusting men in the workplace could be, like maggots writhing in filth.

The Bureau needed capable people, people who could solve problems efficiently. Those old men had simply joined the Bureau a few years earlier and were stuck in insignificant positions, doing menial tasks, with too much free time to be assholes.

Zhu Ming rolled up her sleeves after hearing Wenren Tu’s story. “Those narcissistic man-babies are all the same! Insecure and incompetent, they only know how to create pointless rules and put others down to feel better about themselves. And trying to reason with them is useless! They’ll just twist your words and treat their own delusional logic as gospel. And the fact that they’re a whole group of them just amplifies the disgusting factor. Come on, don’t they leave work at 5:30? Let’s go ambush them!”

Wenren Tu took a deep breath and coughed. “I already did.” She punched a pillow furiously. “I overheard those disgusting pigs gossiping, so I… took care of them. And then my supervisor suspended us all.”

Zhu Ming frowned. “Suspended for how long?”

Wenren Tu: “A week.”

Zhu Ming understood. “You went easy on them?” Only a week’s suspension meant they hadn’t been seriously injured.

Wenren Tu continued to pummel the pillow. “I had to hold back, since we were at the Bureau. Consider it a National Day vacation. I can join you in your instance.”

Zhu Ming stood up, putting on her shoes and pocketing her keys. “Do you know which hospital they’re at? Or where they live?”

Wenren Tu raised an eyebrow. “What are you planning?”

Zhu Ming cracked her knuckles. “You took care of your part. I haven’t avenged my bestie yet.” She wasn’t as restrained or as merciful as Wenren Tu.

Wenren Tu grinned, jumped up, threw the pillow aside, and clung to Zhu Ming. “You’re the best!”

…

At 1:30 a.m., they returned home, laden with snacks, fruit, and drinks.

Wenren Tu was very familiar with the Little Fire God Paranormal Investigations. She had a room there, on the second floor, directly across from Zhu Ming’s, though she rarely stayed over.

But tonight, they were having a movie night. Entering Zhu Ming’s room, Wenren Tu went straight to the freezer, scooped out some ice, and grabbed a bottle of red wine from the fridge.

Red wine mixed with Sprite. Delicious.

At 3:30 a.m., the movie ended. Wenren Tu was slightly drunk, while Zhu Ming was still sober.

“I want to quit,” Wenren Tu said, her voice muffled by the shadows, her eyes closed, the ending music fading. “Why does everyone hate me?”

Zhu Ming replied, “Then quit. You don’t need this job. You have plenty of money. You can do anything you want.”

Unlike most families, the Wenren and Zhu clans followed a traditional matrilineal system, where women held the power and children took their mother’s surname. Perhaps this was why the two clans had endured for so long.

However, if a man from these clans married outside and had a talented daughter, she could inherit the family name and receive the clan’s support.

Wenren Tu’s situation was unique. Her position within the clan was somewhat awkward, like Zhu Ming’s, but her parents managed the clan’s business affairs and had accumulated considerable wealth for her. The dividends from her trust fund alone were enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life, not to mention the inheritance her parents had set aside.

Besides their financial support, her parents had no expectations of her, only asking that she keep a low profile and stay out of trouble. They had never pressured her to be ambitious and even accepted her same-sex relationships.

With such freedom, Wenren Tu could do as she pleased. She had drifted aimlessly for years, only deciding to join the Bureau at twenty-five as a way to experience working life, only to be subjected to such unwarranted hostility.

With her temper, she should just quit and walk away.

But after Zhu Ming’s suggestion, she remained silent.

If she didn’t truly want to stay at the Bureau, she wouldn’t have bothered holding back. She could have easily inflicted lasting psychological trauma on those men, but she hadn’t.

Just as Wenren Tu understood Zhu Ming, Zhu Ming understood Wenren Tu. She knew Wenren Tu’s concerns and her struggles, knew she had always wanted to join the Bureau, knew the reasons behind her years of aimless drifting.

Atu had finally found something she wanted to do. Zhu Ming wouldn’t tell her to give up.

She said, “This is what you want to do. I know. No one can force you.”

Wenren Tu mumbled, “I’ve worked so hard to get this far. Except for those assholes, my other coworkers are nice, and it’s interesting to see all these strange things.”

Zhu Ming ruffled her hair. “What are you hesitating about? They already accuse you of getting in through the back door. Why not use that to your advantage? Don’t give up your career for a few losers. Just beat them up every time you see them! If it’s inconvenient for you, I’ll do it for you! I have plenty of free time. I can just hang out at the Bureau every day and wait for them. I’ll see if those bastards dare mess with you again! Remember, what those losers say doesn’t matter. Anyone who believes them is an idiot.”

Wenren Tu, hiding her face in her hands, couldn’t help but laugh. “Be careful, or you’ll get arrested.”

Seeing her cheer up, Zhu Ming smiled. “You’re not the only one with connections! The Bureau director is my coach!”

“She’s my aunt.”

“Can you ask her to be your godmother or your sworn sister? I can!”

“…”

…

National Day arrived. That night, Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, and Yun Zouchuan sat on the sofa, waiting for midnight.

The familiar dizziness washed over them. After the darkness, they were met with a blinding light.

Zhu Ming blinked, shielding her eyes. She was surrounded by sand, the sun blazing overhead. She had been transported directly from her living room… into a desert.

The sky was slightly hazy. A glance at the time showed it was early morning.

A patch of green in the distance. A closer look revealed an oasis with a structure in the center.

Zhu Ming hoped her crowbar had miraculously made it with her. Looking down, she saw something familiar yet strange—a longbow.

She froze, staring at the bow in her hands.

The last time she had visited the Zhu family’s ancestral home, something unprecedented had happened during the blood ritual in the underground altar. She had fainted, and when she woke up, everything had been normal. She didn’t know what had happened, but her instincts told her it was related to her ability and the bow’s reaction. She hadn’t wanted to tell Grandma Zhu, so she kept it a secret.

But now, it had appeared with her in the instance.

What a joke. Had she somehow… bonded with it?

Zhu Ming felt a sense of unease. This bow, called Zhuque, was a treasured heirloom of the Zhu clan, rarely used because of its volatile nature. Its violent energy could easily backfire on anyone who wielded it with even a hint of hesitation.

Even without using it, she had to absorb its negative energy every three months to appease it.

Such a dangerous weapon wouldn’t normally bond with anyone. According to the Zhu clan’s recorded history, no one had ever bonded with it.

Both Zhuque and the other heirloom of the Zhu clan were incredibly dangerous, always bringing death to their wielders, without exception. So unless faced with a major catastrophe, the Zhu clan never used them. It wasn’t until Zhu Ming’s return, when they discovered she could somehow soothe Zhuque and make it relatively stable, that they could use it without risking immediate death, provided the wielder was strong-willed and well-protected.

Zhuque’s importance to the Zhu clan was paramount. They would rather sacrifice a person than lose the bow. Zhu Ming twirled the bow in her hand, thinking that if Zhu Wanying knew she had brought Zhuque into an instance, she would have a heart attack… That thought amused her.

But was this the real Zhuque? It felt much gentler than before. Although the negative energy was still present, she could feel it wasn’t directed at her.

“Why would you bond with me? I don’t even know how to use a bow,” Zhu Ming grumbled, slinging the bow over her shoulder. “You don’t even have any arrows.”

There was no one else around. She pulled out the invitation. The message had changed. Besides the invitation, she also had two protective amulets, one gray, one white.

[We cordially invite you to our world: Quiz Show.

Mission: Complete the exam.

Hints: 1. Aim for a high score.
2. Listen to the examiner.
3. This mission will last for five days.
4. Participants are responsible for the consequences of mission failure.
5. Please discover other rules on your own.

Note: After completing the mission, tear the invitation to leave this world.]

It seemed she needed to find the examiner first. The oasis ahead was likely the exam location.

Zhu Ming started walking. The sand made it difficult to move, and the sun was getting stronger. By the time she reached the oasis half an hour later, her mouth was parched.

The oasis was surprisingly lush, not just green grass, but also tall trees. Through the gaps in the foliage, she saw a grand, Grecian-style building.

Thick stone columns, carved with intricate reliefs, supported the structure. Through the open doorway, she could see simple yet elegant murals on the walls.

It was a temple, but the statue wasn’t inside. It was outside.

In the open space in front of the temple was a large, four-sided, trapezoidal stone platform, about as tall as a person. On the platform stood an even larger statue of a goddess with six arms, holding or carrying a sword, a shield, a ruler, a crescent moon, a book, and a lyre.

Zhu Ming remained silent, scanning her surroundings.

There were people hidden among the trees and bushes, most of them, like her, choosing to observe before acting.

But some were less cautious. A few participants were already gathered near the statue, talking.

A few minutes later, a black crow wearing a small top hat and a monocle landed at the foot of the statue, cawing loudly. “All examinees present! Please gather at the foot of the statue!”

The participants emerged from their hiding places. Zhu Ming saw Wenren Tu, with her blade and bracelets, Yun Zouchuan, empty-handed, and three familiar faces: Yin Yu, Tu Wei, and Xiao Xue.

…So Yin Yu had appeared again.

Seeing her, Zhu Ming felt a strange sense of… inevitability.

Yin Yu also saw her and smiled, turning her head slightly. This time, beneath her camel-colored windbreaker, she wore an elegant, grayish-white qipao that accentuated her graceful figure.

Zhu Ming returned her smile with a cold sneer. Dressed so elegantly, was she here to fight or to take a vacation? But that was fine. The more cumbersome her attire, the better for Zhu Ming.

With so many people around and the instance’s rules still unclear, Zhu Ming suppressed her urge to attack. She asked, her voice sharp, “Are you still not willing to meet me in the real world? Are you afraid of me?”

Yin Yu: “Yes.”

Zhu Ming: “…”

Wenren Tu stepped forward. “Yin Yu, are you trying to annoy Mingming to death because you can’t beat her?”

Yin Yu: “How did you know?”

Wenren Tu rolled up her sleeves. “I challenge you to a duel!”

Yin Yu wagged a finger. “Only if you can catch me.”

Wenren Tu: “…”

The crow flapped its wings. “Caw! Caw! Silence! Silence!”

Zhu Ming pulled Wenren Tu back, her message clear. “This instance lasts for five days. We have plenty of time.”

Instances were highly unpredictable. Yin Yu, having gone to so much trouble to follow her, wouldn’t be here for nothing. Zhu Ming was determined to uncover her scheme.

Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, and Yun Zouchuan stood together, away from Yin Yu. Wenren Tu and Yun Zouchuan poked the bow on Zhu Ming’s shoulder curiously. “Where did you get that?”

Zhu Ming shook her head. “We’ll talk later.” Too many prying eyes.

There were sixteen participants and one crow. When everyone quieted down, the crow, somehow, removed its top hat with its wing and bowed.

“Greetings, everyone! I am your examiner, Yaya! It’s a pleasure to meet you! Now, for the first order of business: please divide yourselves into four groups of four within ten minutes!”

So this instance required them to work in teams. Was it a competition between the groups? It wouldn’t be good if they had to fight each other.

Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, and Yun Zouchuan naturally formed a team. They needed one more person.

Xiao Xue walked over and greeted them. “I saw you earlier and thought we could team up again, but you already have three people. And I have a friend here too.”

“This is…?” Wenren Tu asked curiously.

“Xiao Xue. We met in a previous instance,” Zhu Ming said. “This is my friend, Atu.”

Xiao Xue nodded. “I hope cooperation will be our priority, but if there’s competition, I won’t hold back.”

Zhu Ming smiled. “What a coincidence. We feel the same way.”

Like Zhu Ming’s group of three, there was another pre-formed team of three tall, muscular men who were clearly triplets. They looked around, finally choosing a skinny young man with glasses who had entered the instance alone.

“Join our team! With our muscles, our physique, our abilities, we can definitely protect you!”

The bespectacled man, a little over 1.7 meters tall, looked like a chick next to them. He took a nervous step back. “Why me?”

The oldest triplet said, “You’re wearing glasses. You look the smartest. Since this is a quiz show, having a smart person on our team is advantageous.” Among the men, the bespectacled man looked the smartest. And the women probably wouldn’t want to team up with three bulky men.

The bespectacled man considered it, then said, “Alright, I’ll join you.”

With one team formed, the others quickly followed. Yin Yu and Tu Wei teamed up with a man and a woman. Xiao Xue and her friend joined two other men. Finally, a lone girl, having no other options, joined Zhu Ming’s team.

She would have preferred to team up with another solo participant. After all, if a group of friends decided to gang up on her, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Chapter 38 Reality Check: The Little Volunteer

…

It was the weekend, and Yun Zouchuan was on break from school. She mailed the letter to her mother, then returned to the Little Fire God Paranormal Investigations.

She put down her backpack and heard faint sounds coming from the training room.

“I’m back!” She opened the door and peeked inside, seeing Zhu Ming, her face pale, furiously attacking a sandbag.

She suddenly remembered the date. According to custom, at the beginning of every third, sixth, ninth, and twelfth month, Zhu Ming would return to the Zhu family’s ancestral home. Every time she came back, she would be out of sorts for a few days: physically weak and emotionally volatile.

Yun Zouchuan quietly went about her business. A moment later, Zhu Ming emerged from the training room, kicking a dented water bottle aside. “You’re back? Go check on your little vegetable garden. I don’t know how much water it needs.”

Yun Zouchuan waved her hand in front of Zhu Ming’s face. “Boss, are you okay? It’s already the 6th.”

Zhu Ming, squatting in front of the freezer, eating a popsicle, brushed her hand away. “I was in an instance. I went a little later this time.”

Yun Zouchuan squatted down beside her, touching her forehead with concern. “Should I call Atu-jie?”

“What for? She’s busy.”

Yun Zouchuan replied matter-of-factly, “To spar with you. I’m afraid you’ll tear the house down if you don’t vent your frustrations.”

Zhu Ming: “…”

She was speechless. But before she could contact Wenren Tu, Wenren Tu showed up.

“Finally, a break!” Wenren Tu stretched languidly and dragged Zhu Ming to the training room. They had been friends for years. She knew about Zhu Ming’s post-ancestral home visits. She usually sparred with Zhu Ming during these times, but her new job at the Bureau kept her busy.

Wenren Tu took off her jacket and beckoned Zhu Ming closer, sparks of electricity crackling around her fingers. “Tsk, Wenren Bai is even busier than me, otherwise I’d have asked her to come.”

When they first met, Zhu Ming had been a newcomer to Huadu, untrained and easily overpowered by Wenren Tu in their sparring sessions.

But Zhu Ming improved quickly. She was naturally stronger than most people, and her relentless training had gradually closed the gap between them. Wenren Tu could no longer rely solely on physical combat to suppress her.

No one knew Zhu Ming’s talent better than Wenren Tu. She realized that no matter how much she sparred with Zhu Ming, it wouldn’t be as effective as training with someone stronger. Wenren Tu could rely on her abilities; she didn’t need to be as skilled in hand-to-hand combat. But Zhu Ming didn’t have that luxury. To protect herself within the Zhu clan, she needed strong martial arts skills.

So Wenren Tu had approached Wenren Bai, the woman she least wanted to interact with, the head of the Wenren clan and the Bureau director, and asked her to train Zhu Ming, to hone her skills, to teach her how to protect herself.

Over the years, Zhu Ming’s increasing strength was largely due to Wenren Bai’s training.

This year, with the emergence of the Dark Realm, the Bureau was overwhelmed. Wenren Bai hadn’t had a break in ages. She had wanted Zhu Ming, her secret disciple, and Wenren Tu to join the Bureau as interns. Wenren Tu, after years of unemployment, had finally agreed, but Zhu Ming preferred her freedom.

“If you’re busy, Coach must be even busier,” Zhu Ming said, referring to Wenren Bai as she always did. “Don’t hold back. Use your abilities if you need to.”

Even without her abilities, Wenren Tu was no longer Zhu Ming’s match in hand-to-hand combat, but her lightning was still a powerful weapon, capable of turning Zhu Ming into a human lightning rod.

Wenren Tu smiled. “You’ve become so resistant to electricity over the years. I’m afraid it won’t be effective against you one day.”

Wenren Tu’s most frequent electrocution target: Zhu Ming.

Without another word, Zhu Ming lunged forward, barehanded. Wenren Tu, startled by her intensity, turned and ran. Starting this strong meant Zhu Ming was in a bad state this time.

Her assessment was correct. Whatever little restraint Zhu Ming had possessed before the fight quickly vanished. Wenren Tu had no choice but to electrocute her early.

When Zhu Ming woke up, Wenren Tu said, “I’m getting too old for this kind of beating. I have a great idea. Let’s go ghost hunting!”

Zhu Ming: “?”

Wenren Tu held up her phone, smiling mysteriously. “I have a job for you. The CEO of Tangxin Real Estate has offended something… unclean. It’s affecting their new development, and construction has stalled. They’re offering 500,000 yuan to solve the problem.”

Zhu Ming sat up abruptly. “I’m in!”

Nothing was more important than making money. Well, except maybe making more money!

She jumped up, wrapping her arms around Wenren Tu. “You know me so well.”

CEO Tang lived in the suburbs. Wenren Tu drove Zhu Ming and Yun Zouchuan to his residence. She wasn’t there as a Bureau employee, but as a consultant for the Little Fire God Paranormal Investigations.

Sometimes, in this gray area, they had to turn a blind eye and take on some private jobs for extra cash. It was common practice.

“CEO Tang, you’re too kind, coming to greet us personally,” Wenren Tu said. “I’ve brought the master.”

CEO Tang, about fifty years old, wasn’t surprised by their youth. He had dealt with Awakened individuals before and knew that abilities weren’t determined by age or gender.

“Thank you for coming. It’s like this. A week ago, we were constructing an artificial lake…”

The case was easy to solve once they identified the source of the problem. That night, the three of them went to the artificial lake, using CEO Tang as bait. They waited, captured the troublesome ghost, and eliminated it. Ordinary people were helpless against ghosts, but for Awakened individuals, the solution was often simple and brutal: kill it.

CEO Tang’s problem was solved, Zhu Ming vented her frustrations, and Yun Zouchuan made money. Everyone was satisfied.

Except for CEO Tang’s daughter, Tang Qiaoqi.

“Dad, I heard you hired some… masters… to perform a ritual?” A young woman rushed over just as Zhu Ming and the others were about to leave. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

CEO Tang sighed. “Qiaoqi, don’t worry about such matters. Dad can handle it. Three little masters, the payment has been transferred. Xiao Zheng, please take our masters to the hotel and make sure they’re well taken care of.”

As they were being led away by CEO Tang’s assistant, Yun Zouchuan overheard the young woman saying, “Dad, this is a world of science! You have to believe in science! Those ‘ghosts’ are probably just people in disguise! And there are so many scammers using superstition these days! Don’t be fooled!”

…

After the weekend, Yun Zouchuan returned to school, finally experiencing normal student life after the military training period ended.

It was a novel experience. She wanted to record every detail and tell her mother, of course, omitting the unpleasant parts. The good parts were enough.

Another weekend arrived, and Yun Zouchuan returned to the studio, intending to clean, but she was met with the sight of a young woman with a chestnut brown bob diligently mopping the floor.

“Wow…”

Yun Zouchuan stared at the spotless studio, her jaw dropping. Given her boss’s laziness and stinginess, she had assumed she would be tasked with cleaning, as per their agreement: Zhu Ming paid her a basic salary, and she cleaned and ran errands on weekends.

Why had Zhu Ming hired someone?

Wait, wasn’t that CEO Tang’s daughter, Miss Tang Qiaoqi?

Seeing Yun Zouchuan return, Zhu Ming turned to Tang Qiaoqi. “Qiaoqi, go to the deli down the street and buy some pig ears. Give Xiao Chuanchuan some extra protein.”

Tang Qiaoqi looked at the sky, hesitant. “But it’s so hot outside…”

Zhu Ming sighed dramatically. “If you can’t even handle this small test, how are you going to learn anything from me?”

“Fine, fine! I’m going!” Tang Qiaoqi put down the mop and reluctantly went outside, holding a parasol.

“Boss, did we not… completely solve their problem?” Yun Zouchuan asked dutifully after Tang Qiaoqi left. “Should we go back?”

Zhu Ming, her usual demeanor restored, smiled slyly. “No, no. She’s here because she doesn’t believe us.”

Tang Qiaoqi, firmly believing in neither ghosts nor masters, seeing her father ignore her advice and resort to superstition, had decided to expose the Little Fire God Paranormal Investigations herself.

A studio like this must have scammed other people too. If it were just about money, that would be one thing, but what if their superstitious practices prevented people from seeking proper medical treatment? How unethical!

She would observe them carefully. Once she found evidence of their wrongdoing, she would make them pay!

She had found the studio’s address and, upon arriving, claimed to be deeply impressed by the “masters” and their work, wanting to volunteer and learn about the occult. Zhu Ming had readily agreed.

So whenever she had free time, she came to the studio, but so far, she hadn’t found any incriminating evidence or learned anything about the occult.

Yun Zouchuan didn’t understand. “You know she’s here with ulterior motives, and you’re still letting her stay? Boss, should I just… show her my abilities? Then she’ll know the truth.”

“No!” Zhu Ming grabbed her arm. “Are you stupid? If she realizes her mistake, repents, and leaves, who will clean for me? Will you find me a new volunteer?”

Yun Zouchuan was stunned. “Boss, you…”

Zhu Ming said matter-of-factly, “Since you started school, I’ve been all alone in this big studio! Have you considered how lonely and bored I am?! And more importantly, who’s going to clean? Who’s going to run errands for me? I can’t wait for your weekends every time, and hiring a cleaner is too expensive! But now, with her, I have free cleaning services! Do you know how wonderful this is?! You’ll understand after experiencing it yourself! So, you’re absolutely forbidden from revealing your abilities to her!”

Yun Zouchuan was deeply impressed by her boss’s shrewdness. To avoid losing her bonus, she obediently agreed, suppressing her guilt as she joined the ranks of Tang Qiaoqi’s oppressors.

It was quite nice having someone else clean…

A month later…

Tang Qiaoqi still hadn’t given up. She continued to “volunteer” at the Little Fire God Paranormal Investigations, her frustration growing. “Boss Zhu, don’t you have any new cases?” Couldn’t they be a little more active and give her a chance to expose them?

Zhu Ming, sprawled on the sofa, replied lazily, “These things depend on fate. Besides, your dad paid us well last time. It’s enough for now.”

Tang Qiaoqi seethed inwardly, forcing a smile. “Really? But your lifestyle seems quite… frugal.”

She hadn’t seen Zhu Ming spend the money on anything. Her food and clothes were simple, and she rarely went shopping. She mostly spent her time playing with her phone, reading, or training.

Sometimes, she admired the scammer’s dedication. Working out tirelessly in the training room every day… She looked down at her own small belly, then at Zhu Ming’s abs, feeling a twinge of shame.

Too bad she was a fraud. With such physical prowess and discipline, she could be doing anything, yet she chose to peddle superstition.

Zhu Ming tilted her head. “Are you bored?”

Tang Qiaoqi nodded quickly. “Yes, a little.”

“You can read any of the books on my bookshelf. You wanted to learn about the occult, right? There are many related books there.” Zhu Ming gestured towards a large bookshelf, smiling sweetly. “And while you’re at it, dust them for me, little volunteer.”

Tang Qiaoqi: “…”

She knew there was a catch!

She hated those books. Dry and boring. She didn’t know how Zhu Ming could stand reading them.

…

National Day, October 1st, was approaching. Yun Zouchuan felt a growing sense of anxiety.

Zhu Ming immediately saw through her. “Worried about the monthly exams?”

Yun Zouchuan lowered her head guiltily. “Yes.”

Her foundation wasn’t strong, and she was lagging behind her classmates. She didn’t know how she would perform on the exams. If she did poorly, it would be a waste of two years of tutoring and all that money!

“What’s there to worry about? Exams are just a way to assess your progress. One monthly exam doesn’t determine anything. Knowing your score will help you identify your weaknesses.” Zhu Ming waved her hand dismissively. “Come on, I’ll take you somewhere.”

Yun Zouchuan, puzzled, followed her out.

Wenren Tu hadn’t visited this week. Without her, they could only use the studio’s own transportation: a small electric scooter for Yun Zouchuan to travel between school and the studio and a more imposing blue three-wheeled electric motorcycle.

Yun Zouchuan climbed into the back of the three-wheeler. Zhu Ming gripped the handlebars and started the engine.

The wind blew against their faces as they drove for half an hour, finally stopping in front of a small temple.

It was a simple temple, the kind commonly found near tourist attractions. Inside were three statues and a large incense burner. The space was small, with no gate, opening directly onto a street filled with food stalls.

“The three deities every student prays to before exams: Wenchang Dijun, Kuixing, and Wenquxing,” Zhu Ming said, buying a bundle of incense sticks from a vending machine and handing them to Yun Zouchuan. “Here, go pray.”

“Does this really work?” Yun Zouchuan was skeptical. “Boss, how did you even find this place?”

Zhu Ming stammered, “I came here last year to pray.”

Yun Zouchuan was curious. “Last year? I don’t remember that.”

Zhu Ming scolded, “Don’t ask so many questions! Just pray and stop worrying about it! Whatever score you get, you get. I won’t scold you.”

Yun Zouchuan, holding the incense sticks, said, “But if I’m too stupid, I won’t be able to make enough money to buy a house.”

And if she couldn’t buy a house, how could she convince her mother to leave the mountains?

Zhu Ming almost burst out laughing. “Don’t worry about that until you graduate from university! Just focus on working for me for now!”

Yun Zouchuan sighed maturely and solemnly offered the incense to the three statues.

That afternoon, back at the studio, after lunch, Yun Zouchuan was about to return to her room to study. The exams were tomorrow, and then it was National Day, a three-day break.

But before she left, she noticed something familiar lying on the table.

“An invitation.” She picked it up, surprised, and turned to Zhu Ming. “Boss, I received an invitation. Did you?”

Zhu Ming frowned and raised her hand. “I got one too. Damn it.”

They opened their invitations. This time, there was no totem on the inside of the cover, but a phrase every student knew well: Exams, exams, exams, the teacher’s weapon. Grades, grades, grades, the student’s lifeline!

Chapter 37 Reality Check: Number 44

Jia-jie, who had been pretending to faint, peeked through one eye, then, without hesitation, tore up her invitation. Her figure faded and vanished.

Yin Yu waved, smiling at Zhu Ming. “Goodbye, Mingming. I look forward to our next meeting.”

Before Zhu Ming could retort, “I certainly don’t!”, Yin Yu and Tu Wei disappeared.

Legs, expressing her hope to team up with them again in future instances, also left.

As Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu were about to leave, a translucent fragment detached itself from Dou Dou’s body. Wenren Tu’s eyes widened, and she quickly picked it up. “The instance core!”

It looked like a piece of crystal. Zhu Ming examined it, then looked at Dou Dou’s body.

She placed the dog’s severed head back in the old man’s arms and asked, “How do we destroy this thing?”

Wenren Tu: “Easy. With our abilities.”

Now that the mission was complete, their abilities were restored. Wenren Tu handed the fragment to Zhu Ming. “Here you go, Zhu ‘Skinner.’ Be generous with Azou when you get the bonus.”

Zhu Ming coughed. “Of course, Atu-jie.”

Without hesitation, she summoned a flame. Black smoke rose from the beautiful, crystal-like fragment. A moment later, it vanished completely.

At the same time, the world around them shook violently, cracks appearing in the sky, the light dimming, as if the heavens were collapsing.

Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu quickly tore up their invitations.

Their vision blurred, then cleared. They were back in the Little Fire God Paranormal Investigations.

Wenren Tu checked the time on her phone. The time in the instance and the real world were synchronized. Two days had passed.

It was late at night. They were exhausted, especially Zhu Ming, whose clothes were torn and tattered. There was no time for serious discussions. Sleep was their priority.

…

In a dark, quiet room, a woman gasped and sat bolt upright in bed.

It was the middle of the night. Yin Qingjia quickly got dressed and hurried out.

In the underground laboratory, the attendant on duty greeted her. “Yin Laoshi, where have you been? You’re finally back!”

Yin Qingjia paused. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The attendant, walking with her, replied, “Good news! Number 44 is showing signs of consciousness! Its fingers moved! It hasn’t fully awakened yet, though.”

Yin Qingjia’s face lit up with joy. “Wonderful! I knew this would work!”

They reached the deepest part of the underground laboratory, where a large, vertical incubation chamber stood, connected by tubes to several other chambers. Inside the central chamber was a grotesque, humanoid creature with wings. The creatures in the other chambers looked much more… normal.

The winged creature was Number 44, Yin Qingjia’s miracle.

It was the only one with a designation. The creatures in the other chambers were its food.

The attendant didn’t know the details of 44’s creation. He hadn’t been involved in the project at the time. He only knew that Yin Qingjia had poured all her efforts into 44, but it had never awakened.

The attendant said, “The experiment logs for the past two days are here, Yin Laoshi. Should I inform Director Zhao about the good news? He might increase our funding.”

In the dimly lit laboratory, Yin Qingjia walked towards Number 44. It had a woman’s head, deformed claws, hard, translucent scales, and dark, iridescent insect wings.

The attendant, recalling something he had heard, said, “I heard it was the only survivor out of a batch of one hundred experimental subjects. Now it’s finally awakening. Truly a miracle. Yin Laoshi, why don’t we create another batch? We might get more viable subjects.”

Yin Qingjia chuckled softly. “There’s no need. A miracle is a miracle because it can’t be replicated. It’s my most perfect creation. I’ll dedicate everything to its development.”

The attendant said hopefully, “I hope it’ll be… friendly when it fully awakens. That would make subsequent experiments much easier.”

“It will be,” Yin Qingjia replied, her lips curving into a slight smile, a promise only to herself.

The closer she got, the stronger the subtle connection between her and the creature became. As she placed her hand against the reinforced glass, the monstrous creature within stirred and moved towards her.

The attendant exclaimed, “Yin Laoshi, it’s sensing you! Its reaction is much stronger than before!”

Her decision to incorporate her own blood into the experimental subject had been correct.

Yin Qingjia’s smile widened. “Yes, it remembers me. You wanted to find Director Zhao? Have him come and witness this himself.”

The attendant said excitedly, “I hope he’ll be generous this time.”

Yin Qingjia added, “And call everyone else too.”

“Alright!”

An hour later, the researchers and Director Zhao had all gathered in the secret laboratory, staring at the creature with uncontainable excitement.

After the initial excitement subsided, Director Zhao suddenly asked, “Yin Laoshi, it’s awake, but how will this give me superpowers?”

Yin Qingjia smiled. “This is only the first step towards success. Unless you’re willing to become an experimental subject yourself, there’s no quick and easy method.”

Director Zhao frowned. “I want a safe and fast method. Isn’t your research progressing a little too slowly?”

Yin Qingjia, holding a remote control, gazed at Number 44 and stepped back slightly. “There’s no rushing perfection. Creating a god-like being isn’t easy.”

Click!

The laboratory was plunged into darkness.

“Who turned off the lights?!” Director Zhao exclaimed, startled.

Splash!

“What’s that?! Water?!”

The sudden darkness caused panic. A viscous liquid, carrying a strange yet familiar odor, spread rapidly across the floor. Director Zhao didn’t recognize it, but the other researchers did. It was the incubation fluid!

A sickening squelching sound filled the laboratory. The attendant, his hands trembling, reached for the light switch.

But his fingers didn’t find the switch. They touched something cold and slimy.

…

Ten minutes later, the lights came back on. The laboratory was filled with dismembered bodies.

Blood mingled with the incubation fluid on the floor, staining it red. Number 44 crouched in a corner, gnawing on a bloody arm.

She seemed to be afraid of the light, her body flinching slightly, but she continued to devour the flesh and bone.

So hungry, so hungry, so hungry!

A figure approached. Number 44 quickly dropped the arm and wiped her mouth, her remaining human memories telling her this was a disgusting, repulsive act. She didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want her to be disgusted.

But she wasn’t.

Yin Qingjia stroked her damp hair, a twisted smile on her face. “Good girl. You did well.”

Number 44 looked at her adoringly, nuzzling her hand.

Yin Qingjia pulled her up. “Now, let’s find you some clothes and get out of here.”

At the entrance to the secret laboratory, Yin Qingjia’s true and only assistant stood waiting. She asked, “Laoshi, why are we moving so soon? Director Zhao would definitely increase our funding after seeing the results. Then we could have anything we want.”

Yin Qingjia’s face darkened. “She found me.”

The assistant’s eyes widened. “You mean… Yin…?”

Yin Qingjia nodded, a hint of anxiety in her voice. “I suspect she’s already discovered I’m here. We need to leave, change our identities, find a new location. What about that Mr. Wang who wanted me to research immortality for him? Have him make preparations. We’ll go to him.”

Since they were leaving, Director Zhao and the others couldn’t be allowed to live. Dead men tell no tales.

“I understand. The car is ready. You take 44 and leave. I’ll delete the surveillance footage.”

Half an hour later, a fire engulfed the secret underground laboratory, incinerating all its secrets.

About a kilometer away, in an abandoned, unfinished building, a young woman in a white dress, her face plain and unremarkable, hid in the shadows, making a phone call. “Sister, Yin Qingjia left. They’re going to a businessman named Wang Jinbao.”

She had been watching Yin Qingjia for a long time. They had even tried to recruit her.

Unfortunately, Yin Qingjia was too timid and only dared to work with ordinary humans.

A seductive voice chuckled from the other end of the line. “Prepare some joss paper for that Mr. Wang. He’ll be joining Director Zhao soon.”

…

The next afternoon, Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu woke up.

After washing up and eating, Wenren Tu said, “I’ll report the instance to the Bureau and collect your bonus. Don’t thank me. Normally, the bonus isn’t paid until the next instance, after the white amulet is verified.”

Zhu Ming smiled. “Sure. I’ll send you my account information later.”

Wenren Tu added, “And about Yin Yu… although there’s no record of her in the system, we at least know two people connected to her now. I’ll investigate further. We’ll find her eventually.”

The two people connected to Yin Yu: one was Tu Wei, whose name, taken from the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, was likely an alias. And with her face hidden by a mask, she would be difficult to track.

But Jia-jie… Yin Yu had called her Qing Jia. That name was likely real. Wenren Tu had memorized her face and would have someone draw a portrait. She would find her one day.

A minute after Wenren Tu left, two women in black suits emerged from a hidden corner.

“Dajie, you’ve already delayed for three days,” one of the women said, bowing respectfully. “The Family Head has learned of your… detour to the Dark Realm and has decided to forgive you for missing your appointment. But you must return home tonight. This cannot be postponed any longer.”

Zhu Ming snorted. “I need her forgiveness?”

Despite her words, she stood up and followed the two women in black, getting into a nondescript black Audi SUV.

The car drove for an hour, then stopped in front of a large, traditional-style house. In the expensive real estate market of Huadu, owning such a house indicated considerable wealth.

They walked through the tree-lined courtyard, past an elaborate rock garden. One of the women in black turned to Zhu Ming. “Dajie, the Family Head requests your presence…”

She was already gone.

Zhu Ming, familiar with the place, went to a quiet courtyard, unguarded because it didn’t need guards. Few were allowed to enter; the house itself repelled outsiders.

She entered the main building, opened an intricately carved door, and flipped a switch, dim lights illuminating the way down a stone staircase. Down, down, down…

Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs, but not her destination.

The temperature down here was higher than above ground, increasing as she descended.

She followed a narrow stone passage, passing through several heavy doors carved with complex formations, finally reaching a stone chamber. The heat here was more intense than the hottest summer day.

There was no electricity down here. Zhu Ming found a box of matches on a table by the door and lit the lamps, one by one.

In the center of the chamber was a circular, slightly raised altar, upon which lay a simple, ancient-looking longbow. Its material seemed to be both wood and metal. When she flicked it with her finger, it emitted a clear, resonant sound.

A suppressed, violent aura emanated from the bow. Zhu Ming, holding a small knife, slowly approached.

So hot.

As she stepped onto the altar, the intense heat almost burned her.

In the dimly lit chamber, the black-haired woman removed her clothes and cut her wrist. She knelt beside the longbow, cradled it in her arms, and slowly smeared her blood on its surface.

It was a familiar ritual, one she had performed many times. She knew what would happen next. The bow’s violent energy would surge into her body, and she would use her blood and flesh to appease it.

Intense emotions surged within her, a sharp pain in her head, the whispering, roaring voices intensifying, filling her mind.

No, the bow’s reaction was too violent this time.

Something within her, deep within her soul, exploded. Zhu Ming looked down, her eyes unfocused.

Drip, drip, drip.

Blood dripped from her nose and mouth.

Whoosh—

A small flame ignited on the bow, warm and comforting.

How… Zhu Ming thought dully. This was the first time she had seen such a reaction from the bow.

The flame quickly spread, engulfing her, then seeping into her flesh, forging a connection she had never felt before.

Zhu Ming shook her head, her vision blurring, then collapsed, clutching the bow, unable to resist the sudden wave of exhaustion.

Chapter 36 The Four Seasons Train (13)

Zhu Ming hurried over to the peculiar small lamp-like objects by the front window, unique to carriage 1. She flipped the switch.

“Look at this. We thought they were cameras or lights. Now we know every carriage is monitored, but these are only in carriages 1 and 60, so they’re most likely lights. And they’re connected to the carriage. If we can turn them on, we can use the interior lights to illuminate the outside!”

These lights were connected to the carriage’s electrical system, part of the train itself. Only they could illuminate the tunnel.

One last problem: there was a switch, but it didn’t work.

After their discussion, she guessed the lights were meant to help them determine the inner curve of the tracks at night. But they wouldn’t turn on. Could they be… out of power? Zhu Ming paused. “Holy crap, could that be it?”

She immediately checked for any removable parts and found a small panel that slid open, revealing a charging port.

Zhu Ming was both exasperated and amused. Such an obvious solution, yet they were out of power. She flipped off the train owner. “You’re hilarious.”

The train owner, holding his dog, coughed delicately. “Do you know the consequences of turning them on? I’m not telling you.”

Wenren Tu walked over and examined the lights. “I see. The train has prepared tools for us to verify the route. There are two sets of lights. We can try turning on one set first.”

Everything was ready, except for a charging cable. All eyes turned to the little border collie. The train owner remained silent, holding the dog tighter.

During the sixth autumn cycle, the border collie vendor, sensing its owner’s distress, pushed its cart through the carriages dejectedly. Zhu Ming and the others spent all their remaining food coupons, purchasing ample food, water, charging cables, watches, and other supplies, and informed carriage 60 to be prepared.

As night fell, ushering in a cold winter, the daytime ghosts vanished. Zhu Ming connected a charging cable to one of the lights. Four and a half minutes into the “night,” carriage 1 and carriage 60 simultaneously switched on their left lights.

Hum—

A bright yellow beam pierced the darkness, reaching towards the other end. The darkness recoiled, boiling and churning. When the two beams met, the occupants of carriage 1 could finally see carriage 60.

The left beam shone outwards. The train was curving to the left. The route map showed a clockwise direction, but the train was moving counterclockwise!

Sizzle, sizzle, crackle—pop.

After barely three minutes, sparks flew from the light, and it burned out, the bright yellow beam dissipating like liquid into the darkness.

The train owner, holding his dog, closed his eyes, his expression serene. The border collie licked his face.

The train entered the sixth round of winter. A pure, tranquil white landscape stretched before them. Zhu Ming went to the engine compartment, enjoying the view from the best vantage point.

“You were very thoughtful, preparing two sets of lights. Too bad we won’t need the other one.”

The train owner: “…”

Zhu Ming asked again, “What happens if the train reverses?”

The man opened his eyes, adjusted his cap, which had almost fallen off, and said, “I can’t recall. Old age, you know. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

If not for the perilous train and the dwindling lifespans, this world was truly beautiful. Spring, vibrant with life and blooming flowers; summer, lush and green; autumn, a sea of gold and crimson; winter, a pristine white wonderland.

Perhaps only at this moment did the passengers have the time to appreciate the beauty of the four seasons.

The train entered the seventh round of spring. Legs and Wenren Tu leaned out the windows, waving at the participants on the ground beside the tracks. “Want to get back on? Don’t miss this chance! There’s only one opportunity when we return!”

Just before the end of spring, Jia-jie, with the help of others, jumped off the train. Tu Wei from carriage 60 also jumped. Without assistance, it would be difficult for Jia-jie to climb back on.

She watched as the train entered the tunnel, then, after the calculated time, pulled the left track switch lever.

The train passed through summer and entered autumn. At the end of autumn, just before entering the tunnel, Legs jumped off, sprinted to the tunnel entrance, and pulled the left lever. The moment she completed her task, the train plunged into darkness.

Worried about Legs being alone, Wenren Tu had also jumped off.

The Four Seasons Train, number 999. Carriage 1 passenger: Zhu Ming. Carriage 60 passenger: Yin Yu.

This darkness felt longer than any previous tunnel. Bathed in the warm, orange glow of the engine compartment lights, Zhu Ming closed her eyes, dozing.

After some time, the train owner suddenly spoke. “Do you know my precious dog’s name?”

Zhu Ming: “…”

He continued, his voice rambling, “Dou Dou. Seems like a lot of dogs are called Dou Dou. I couldn’t think of anything else. He was so small when I found him, his eyes like two little black beans. I raised him, watched him grow stronger, then older… Zhu Ming, is it? How old are you this year?”

Zhu Ming: “…”

Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Judging by your temper, you’ve never had a pet. Some people just aren’t suited to having pets. Irresponsible and hypocritical. Just buy a stuffed animal and put it on your bed. No need to clean up poop, no need to feed it, no furniture destroyed. But they don’t. They put in minimal effort, then expect their pets to be as smart and obedient as humans. And they’re irresponsible. They abandon their unwanted puppies in the freezing cold. Dou Dou was lucky. He was the prettiest of the litter, and the most resilient. He survived until I found him.”

“My Dou Dou is my precious baby. Why can humans live so long, but Dou Dou can’t?” He held the dog’s paw, swinging it gently. “I’m a lonely old man. I’ve been insulted, beaten, had my land stolen. Dou Dou was the only one who treated me well. Sometimes, looking at those heartless bastards, I just want them to die. Humans are worse than dogs. In this era, the more selfish you are, the better you live. You should be more selfish, young lady. People like you should live longer.”

Zhu Ming opened her eyes, her voice cold. “What does that have to do with me? Or you, for that matter?”

The train owner: “…” Had today’s youth lost all empathy?

Silence returned to the carriage. Zhu Ming checked her watch. If her calculations were correct, the train had reached the midpoint of the diagonal tunnel.

Suddenly, the usually placid train owner lunged to the side. There was a hidden door next to the driver’s seat! Zhu Ming’s eyes widened, and she jumped up, trying to stop him. She missed the slippery man but grabbed the dog’s leg. He had already opened the door!

Darkness poured in through the gap like water. The train owner, protected by his absolute defense, was unharmed. He stepped through the doorway, about to jump.

Holding the large dog would be difficult. With a sharp tug, Zhu Ming pulled the dog from his arms and jumped onto the control panel, holding the dog by the scruff of its neck. “Close the door!” she yelled.

The train owner, stuck halfway through the doorway, darkness flowing over his body, looked back at Dou Dou.

Dou Dou barked furiously and tried to bite Zhu Ming, who shoved her hand into its mouth. Its teeth pierced her palm, blood mingling with dog saliva. Zhu Ming looked coldly at the train owner. “I’ll say it again. Close the door. Unless you want to abandon him.”

The train owner blinked, then retracted his foot and closed the door, smiling. “You’re so cruel.”

Zhu Ming smiled back, her smile cold. “Not as cruel as you.”

He might be pathetic, he might be miserable, he might have a thousand reasons to hurt others, but so what? He could hurt others, and others could fight back. Those were the rules of the game. He had accepted them; there was no point in complaining.

The darkness that had spilled into the engine compartment was thick, the dim lights struggling to dispel it.

Zhu Ming, holding the dog, squatted on the control panel, using it as leverage against its owner. “From what you said, you were a real person, weren’t you?”

The train owner swiveled idly in his chair. “What else would I be? Surprised?”

Zhu Ming continued her interrogation. “What is this Dark Realm? Why are you NPCs? Who brought you here? What gave you your powers?”

The train owner opened a bag of plain potato chips, eating some himself and offering some to the dog. “Don’t ask. I can’t tell you. Hey, hey! Don’t hurt Dou Dou! He also has absolute defense! He’s not a good hostage!”

Zhu Ming loosened her grip on the dog’s neck but didn’t let go. Even if she couldn’t harm Dou Dou, as long as it was in the carriage, the train owner couldn’t do anything.

The darkness on the floor finally dissipated. Zhu Ming picked up the ropes and tied the train owner up again, securely this time. He sat in his swivel chair, Dou Dou jumping onto his lap, licking his face.

He asked, “Who in this world loves Daddy the most?”

Dou Dou: “Woof!”

He asked again, “Who in this world does Daddy love the most?”

Dou Dou: “Woof, woof!”

…

This darkness felt longer than any previous tunnel, but they finally saw the light at the end. No matter which track it was on, the train continued to move. This was life, time, the symbol of everything irreversible.

The train burst into a vibrant spring, life returning to the world. Jia-jie and Tu Wei climbed back on board. From this moment on, the train was officially moving in reverse.

New sprouts emerged from the earth. They entered a cold, desolate winter. Leaves returned to the branches. They entered a fruitful autumn. Green replaced yellow. Summer returned. And finally, they arrived back at the starting point.

“Attention passengers! Welcome to the Four Seasons Train, number 999! It has been our pleasure to serve you on this journey. Please observe proper train etiquette:

1. No fighting or loud noises in the carriages!

2. Please fasten your seatbelts!

3. Keep your train ticket safe! Lost tickets will not be replaced! Lost tickets will not be replaced! Repeat, lost tickets will not be replaced!”

Not only Jia-jie, Tu Wei, Legs, and Wenren Tu, but several other participants also climbed back onto the train during the reverse spring cycle.

“I’m pressing the ‘Accelerate’ button after the next spring cycle,” Zhu Ming said, her fingers twitching. “I’m not curious, I just don’t want to miss anything.”

Wenren Tu scoffed. “Sure! By the way, that Tu Wei woman is pretty mysterious with her mask. They seem organized, not simple at all.”

Zhu Ming narrowed her eyes, looking out the window. “I can’t help you there. She doesn’t talk. Even the ghost who copied her memories refused to say anything.”

Wenren Tu raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you try luring her to the real world? We can set a trap and capture her.”

Zhu Ming was puzzled. “How am I supposed to lure her?”

Wenren Tu, exasperated, said, “Seduce her!”

Zhu Ming stared at her, dumbfounded. “Are you crazy?! You told me not to fall into the same trap twice!”

Wenren Tu poked her forehead. “I’m telling you to seduce her, not to rekindle your old flame! She played with your feelings. Don’t you want revenge? We can lure her to the real world… and then bam! Revenge is sweet!”

The plan seemed sound, but Zhu Ming doubted Yin Yu would fall for it.

The topic made her uncomfortable. She averted her gaze. “She already said she doesn’t love me. Don’t even think about it.”

But Wenren Tu wasn’t convinced. She analyzed the situation carefully. “That was seven years ago! You’re much more charming now! Even if it’s not love, lust can cloud judgment! She might be tempted. I saw the way Yin Yu looked at you. There’s hope!”

Thud!

Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu immediately stopped talking, turning towards the source of the sound. Jia-jie quickly bent down, picking up a water bottle, and wiped the mouth of the bottle as if it had been an accident.

“Ahem.” Zhu Ming glared at Wenren Tu. “Stop giving me bad ideas! We were fighting to the death just now! If I suddenly changed my attitude, even Yin Yu wouldn’t be stupid enough to believe me.”

Wenren Tu muttered, “Your attitude wasn’t that firm to begin with…”

Zhu Ming smiled and covered Wenren Tu’s mouth, changing the subject. “I suspect she already knew you were from the Paranormal Affairs Bureau. Why else would she avoid appearing in the real world all these years, only meeting me in instances? She’s afraid of being caught.”

Wenren Tu removed Zhu Ming’s hand from her mouth and considered it. “That’s possible. I’ll go find her and threaten her.”

“No need. I’m here.” Yin Yu’s head appeared in the window. “Hello there, everyone.”

Everyone: “…”

Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu quickly looked away, pretending nothing had happened, their faces burning with embarrassment. God knows how much Yin Yu had overheard.

Yin Yu climbed into carriage 1. “Why are you all looking at me like that? The moment of victory is approaching, and Tu Wei and I are all alone back there. How lonely.”

Zhu Ming’s temples throbbed just hearing her voice. “We’ve already reversed the train. Why didn’t you just stay in your carriage? What are you doing here?”

Yin Yu replied, “Don’t be angry. I just came to chat. Oh, isn’t this Qing Jia? What a coincidence. You’re here too.”

Jia-jie whirled around, her face as pale as a ghost. “Why is Yin Yu here?!”

Zhu Ming was surprised. “You know each other?”

Jia-jie looked at Zhu Ming frantically, unclear if she was asking her or someone else. “Why didn’t you tell me she was here?! Are you working with her?!”

Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu exchanged glances. “We didn’t not tell you. It’s a coincidence.” They just hadn’t mentioned Yin Yu’s name in carriage 1.

Besides, they had been fighting on the roof of the train. It wasn’t their fault Jia-jie hadn’t noticed.

Jia-jie looked at Yin Yu, shrinking back, her glasses almost falling off her face. “I didn’t tell anyone about you! Really! I didn’t say anything!”

Yin Yu raised a hand dismissively. “I know. There’s no need to be afraid of me. I have to be on my best behavior in front of a Paranormal Affairs Bureau employee. I wouldn’t want to antagonize them.”

Whether or not Jia-jie believed her, Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu remained skeptical. Jia-jie’s lips trembled for a moment, then she collapsed onto the seat, closing her eyes, pretending to faint.

Zhu Ming: “…”

She had wanted to ask Jia-jie about Yin Yu, but it seemed that wasn’t happening. And Jia-jie, your fainting act is terrible. Try actually fainting next time.

Jia-jie might have fainted, but Wenren Tu hadn’t. She glared at Yin Yu, her fingers twitching towards the blade at Zhu Ming’s waist.

Zhu Ming placed a hand over hers. “It’s useless. She has a companion.”

A companion whose abilities were unknown, but powerful enough to clear an entire carriage of ghosts on their own. And Yin Yu herself was strong. They had no chance against them both.

“There’s no need for more conflict,” Zhu Ming said, looking at Yin Yu. “Do you dare meet me in the real world?”

Yin Yu chuckled softly. “The timing isn’t right yet. Perhaps when you’re a little stronger, I’ll consider it.”

Zhu Ming stared at her for a moment, then turned to look out the window.

After passing through the next spring cycle, no longer waiting for the remaining participants outside, Zhu Ming pressed the “Accelerate” button.

The train lurched forward, then sped up, hurtling through the seasons at breakneck speed. The one hour and fifty minute daytime cycles were compressed into four minutes, the ten-minute nights into less than thirty seconds. The scenery outside blurred into streaks of color. At this speed, there was no turning back.

Zhu Ming’s eyes ached. She cupped her hands around her eyes like binoculars. Wenren Tu yelled, “Damn! If you had pressed that button while the train was moving forward, we would have been dead in a matter of minutes!”

They all looked at the train owner and Dou Dou, sitting in the swivel chair.

The man and the dog aged rapidly. His hair turned gray, hers coarse. Wrinkles appeared on his face, her eyes clouded. They were hurtling towards death.

Too old to stand, Dou Dou feebly licked the man’s hand.

He looked down at her and asked, “Dou Dou, who in this world loves Daddy the most?”

“Woof!”

…

When the train owner finally died, his body old and hunched, no trace of his former youthful handsomeness, the train screeched to a halt, forever stopped in a perpetual spring.

Their invitations vibrated simultaneously. Opening them, they saw a dazzling display of fireworks and a message: Congratulations! You have completed the mission ahead of schedule! The instance is closing! Please tear your invitation to leave this world!

Chapter 35 The Four Seasons Train (12)

“I remember you. Mingming cares about you a lot.”

Yin Yu’s kindness flattered Legs, though her words felt a little strange. “Not really,” she mumbled, unsure how to respond.

Yin Yu said, “Of course she does! You’ve only just met, and she’s been carrying you around, protecting you from harm.”

Legs felt a surge of sadness. “That’s because I’m too weak!” she wailed.

Yin Yu said gently, “Everyone has their strengths. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

Legs looked down dejectedly. “But I’m not helpful at all.”

Yin Yu replied, “That’s not true. You’ll play a very important role soon. But Mingming values you so much; I’m afraid she won’t let you take the risk.”

Zhu Ming, who had been pretending to sleep, couldn’t take it anymore. She might be ignoring Yin Yu, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear her. “Yin Yu, can you just get to the point?”

Yin Yu chuckled. “Alright. I want this little one to go outside again. Blondy told me you reached the engine compartment but couldn’t stop the train, so everyone’s planning to jump. But Mingming and I agree that we’re not giving up so easily.”

Zhu Ming didn’t argue. They hadn’t discussed strategies much since entering the instance, but Zhu Ming wouldn’t underestimate Yin Yu. She likely had some new discovery they hadn’t noticed yet.

In the previous instance, Yin Yu’s few words had exposed the ghosts’ initial plan, forcing them to improvise a flawed new scheme. Later, reviewing the events, Zhu Ming realized the key had been the hint on the invitation. Just by seeing the phrase “9 participants in this world,” Yin Yu had deduced that the instance would play tricks with their numbers. Given her sharp wit and decisiveness, any clues she offered were worth considering.

Yin Yu said, “We’ve been too focused on the train itself, the ghosts, the carriages, the engine compartment… But a train can’t function on its own.”

Zhu Ming’s eyes snapped open, a spark of understanding igniting. “You mean… the tracks?”

Yin Yu nodded. “Exactly. There are other elements outside the train related to its movement. Besides the tracks, there are also those guard posts at each tunnel entrance and exit, four per tunnel. Normally, you wouldn’t need so many. I want to know what’s inside them. Have your little friend and… what was her name? Tu Wei. Have them each check a guard post, one on the left, one on the right. Although it’s not as far as the back of the train, it might take some time.”

Tu Wei, the tall, silent woman in the mask, was the fourth living person in carriage 60. After calming down, Legs had noticed that, even though it was “daytime,” carriage 60 contained only the four of them, no ghosts.

Legs considered Yin Yu’s request, then agreed. “I need some time. I can go once my ankle heals.”

Yin Yu smiled and stepped aside. “Tu Wei is skilled in massage and bone setting. She can help you.”

As Yin Yu moved away, the masked woman, Tu Wei, squatted down and examined Legs’ ankle. Legs felt a little embarrassed, her body stiff as Tu Wei removed her shoe and sock and began massaging her ankle. She had to admit, Tu Wei’s technique was excellent. Her ankle felt much better already.

They bought some medicine from the vendor. After one “day-night” cycle, thanks to her accelerated healing, Legs was fully recovered.

Injuries healed quickly on this train, but the reason behind it made them wish they didn’t.

To give Legs and Tu Wei enough time to check the guard posts, they moved to a carriage further up the train, planning to have them jump off and check the posts at the tunnel exit during the next autumn cycle. The train was long; it would take some time for the entire train to exit the tunnel, giving them ample time to investigate.

Unlike Legs, who needed assistance getting on and off the train, Tu Wei was much more independent, always silent, like a mute. Although she wasn’t as fast as Legs, she didn’t slow them down either.

The guard posts were surprisingly simple, like the engine compartment, easily surveyed at a glance, requiring no time-consuming search. Legs and Tu Wei quickly returned to the train.

“There’s a small control panel inside with a lever that can only be moved to the left. There’s a diagram of a railway junction on the panel. A solid line going straight ahead and a dotted line going to the left,” Legs described. “Nothing else.”

Tu Wei, breaking her silence, said, “The guard post on the right was the same, except the lever and the dotted line pointed to the right.”

Zhu Ming tapped the table. “So, the guard posts control the track switches. We can’t stop the train, but we can change its route!”

Jia-jie suddenly stood up. “The route map in the engine compartment is circular. Perhaps we should examine it more closely.”

They returned to the empty engine compartment. Zhu Ming saw Yin Yu in carriage 60, her back to the camera, looking out the window.

Jia-jie touched the route map on the display, and the four colored segments shifted slightly. Two dotted lines appeared, connecting the opposite corners where the segments met, the tunnel entrances. Jia-jie said, “After Zhu Ming left, we examined the map and discovered these lines, but we couldn’t figure out what they meant. Now, considering the levers in the guard posts, I think these are hidden tracks inside the tunnels. If we switch the tracks correctly, we can send the train across the diagonal, reversing its direction!”

The unstoppable train, moving forward, stole their lifespans. What would happen if it moved backward?

Legs’ eyes lit up with excitement. “Does that mean… we can get our lost years back?”

Zhu Ming mentally calculated the time. “Yes, if our theory is correct.”

Wenren Tu said, “Let’s ask our dear conductor.”

With a new plan and a new goal, they were eager to try, grateful to have a lead.

Wenren Tu nudged the seemingly lifeless train owner. “This train can switch tracks, can’t it?”

The train owner opened his eyes, his voice flat. “Why would I help you? Since you’ve figured it out, go ahead and try. Later.”

Zhu Ming sat down on the other side, her hand resting on the back of his chair, observing him. “Giving up already?”

The train owner, unfazed by her taunt, replied, “Everything is meaningless until you succeed. Have you considered why the tracks can switch to both the left and the right? Have you considered the consequences of switching to the wrong track?”

Zhu Ming said, “That’s why we’re asking you.”

The train owner said, “Let me down, and I’ll tell you the consequences of switching to the wrong track.”

The ropes were cut. The train owner fell to the floor with a thud. He stood up, chuckling coldly. “The consequences are simple. You’ll be swallowed by eternal darkness. Go ahead, try it. See if you dare take the risk. But don’t expect me to tell you which way to switch the tracks. I’ve never seen such lazy players, asking the GM for all the answers.”

Zhu Ming raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re the GM? Then I have another question: what happens if we switch to the right track?”

The train owner sat back in his swivel chair, smiling. “I told you, I won’t tell you. You have to complete this instance on your own.”

Annoyed by his smugness, Wenren Tu’s fingers twitched. She stood up, about to tie him up again.

Zhu Ming placed a hand on her shoulder, licking her fangs playfully. “Not yet. I’m curious to see his reaction when we switch to the right track.”

…

Knowing they could switch tracks didn’t mean they could immediately reverse the train’s direction. They likely only had one chance.

Jia-jie bought paper and pens from the vendor and drew a diagram of the route, extending the dotted lines representing the hidden diagonal tracks. “If we switch to the wrong track, we might end up traveling through eternal darkness, never to return. There’s no vendor at night. We’ll starve to death. And that’s just one possibility. Something worse might happen.”

Zhu Ming, having climbed onto the roof several times to observe the surroundings, agreed. “The tunnels are inside the mountains. They seem to stretch endlessly in both directions, but our vision is limited. We don’t know how long the mountain range is. We might crash into the mountainside while traveling through a side tunnel.”

In that case, the train would be destroyed, and everyone would be swallowed by the darkness.

Jia-jie pointed at the dotted diagonal lines. “But there is a correct path. The mountain range is probably X-shaped; we just can’t see the whole thing. The train enters from one end, crosses the diagonal, and exits from the other end. It’s possible.”

Having finished her calculations, Zhu Ming said, “The current sequence is spring, summer, autumn, winter. Let’s label the guard posts within each season as Spring 1, Spring 2, Summer 1, Summer 2… The tunnel between Spring 2 and Summer 1, and so on. We won’t distinguish between left and right for now.

If we want to cross the spring-autumn diagonal, we need to switch tracks at Summer 2 after exiting the tunnel and at Winter 2 before entering the next tunnel. The train will then cross the diagonal tunnel and exit at Summer 2, reversing through summer and spring. At this point, the tracks for the spring-winter tunnel will be misaligned. We need to switch them back at Winter 2. The tracks at Summer 2 also need to be switched back to reconnect the tracks into a circle, reversing the train’s direction from winter-autumn-summer-spring to spring-summer-autumn-winter.”

Jia-jie said, “That’s simple. Whoever goes down to switch the tracks just stays there and switches them back at the calculated time. The train’s speed is constant, and the duration of each season is fixed, meaning the distance traveled in each season is the same. It’s a symmetrical, predictable route. We can calculate the time it takes to cross the diagonal. After the train reverses, we pick up the people who switched the tracks, and we all travel backwards together.”

Zhu Ming said, “I want to try that ‘Accelerate’ button then.”

Jia-jie said, “I hope you won’t be too reckless. And I want to be the first to switch the tracks. If switching tracks is a trap and something happens to the train inside the tunnel, I can escape. Don’t mind me, my life is precious.”

Zhu Ming said, “No problem. The first person switching tracks needs to wait for the train to pass, so speed isn’t important. The second switch needs to be done before the train enters the tunnel, so we need someone fast. Legs can do it. This way, Atu and I can stay on the train and keep an eye on the train owner. Any objections?”

Wenren Tu/Legs: “…” They hadn’t even had a chance to speak before being assigned their tasks.

“Wait!” Wenren Tu suddenly remembered a crucial detail. “Forget Spring 1 and Spring 2. The tracks can switch to both the left and the right. Which way do we switch them?”

Zhu Ming shrugged. “Just because the arrow on the route map moves clockwise doesn’t mean the train does in reality. It’s like a map where north is up, south is down, west is left, and east is right. You can’t be facing west and still think north is in front of you. So… I don’t know. Hahahaha!”

Wenren Tu: “…”

Wenren Tu opened the window, letting the wind blow through her hair. “Zhu Ming, look at the tracks from the roof. Since we’re traveling in a circle, the tracks should curve. We can switch them towards the inner side of the curve.”

Zhu Ming shook her head. “I thought about that too, but I couldn’t tell. The tracks looked straight as far as I could see, and the train itself was also moving in a straight line when I was on the roof.”

The route map was circular, but the train was moving in a straight line.

Jia-jie suddenly drew a new diagram on the paper. “The train isn’t moving very fast, which means we should be able to see the curvature of the tracks if they’re far enough. Even without the map, we know we’re going in circles. The actual route is a loop. If we’re moving in a straight line during the day, then there’s only one possibility: the curves are inside the tunnels. The train isn’t traveling in a perfect circle, but a square with rounded corners!”

Wenren Tu gasped. “So we can only determine the direction of the curve during the ‘night’! But when the doors open, all the carriages are in a straight line!”

And when the doors were closed, the passengers couldn’t go outside. The darkness outside was corrosive and would consume them.

Jia-jie tapped her pen against the paper, frowning. “That’s the tricky part. I’ve been observing. The doors open eight minutes into the ‘night.’ By then, the train has already passed the curve, which is why we see a straight line. We need to observe between the fourth and fifth minute. That’s when the train is most likely to be on a curve.”

As night fell, they tried using their flashlights to see outside, but the darkness swallowed the beams, even the light spilling from the other carriages. The darkness was a physical presence, a solid mass pressing against the train. They couldn’t see through it.

The train owner, holding his dog, watched them with a smug, mocking smile.

“Is it because the train is too long? Are our flashlights not strong enough?” Legs asked.

Wenren Tu, crouching by the window, frowned. “That shouldn’t be the case. Do you expect the vendor to sell high-tech laser pointers? Tsk, even if it did, it wouldn’t be much use. This darkness burned a hole in my hand! Who would dare stick their hand out to turn on a light? And we can’t illuminate the back of the train from inside the carriage.”

Ordinary flashlights were useless against the darkness outside, and human flesh was even more vulnerable.

Suddenly, Zhu Ming stood up and slapped Wenren Tu’s hand. “I’ve got it!”

Wenren Tu retracted her hand, rubbing it, and stared at Zhu Ming. “What is it now?”

Zhu Ming smiled, her eyes gleaming. “You reminded me. We do have something that can counteract the darkness outside. Remember? The darkness burned a hole in your hand, but the light inside the carriage neutralized it.”

Wenren Tu’s eyes widened in understanding. “I get it! But we can’t exactly remove the lightbulbs from the ceiling! And based on our experience with opening the windows, that just lets the darkness in. The light inside isn’t strong enough to dispel the darkness outside.”

The train windows acted like a barrier, preventing direct contact between the light and the darkness. If only they could find a way to project the train’s own lights outwards…

Zhu Ming said, “We can. This train has external lights.”

Chapter 34 The Four Seasons Train (11)

Yin Yu released her hold on the blade, which clattered to the roof. She gasped, clutching her chest, her tattered dress barely clinging to her.

The green ghost fire dwindled and died like fading embers as the train entered a new, golden autumn, the gruesome scene masked by the returning chatter and laughter of the passengers.

Zhu Ming retrieved the fallen red train ticket and the blade, then looked at the barefoot woman. “Why didn’t you use your ability?”

If Yin Yu’s ability was a strong offensive one, eliminating the flaming ghost would have been much easier.

Yin Yu tugged at her torn collar, smiling. “If I told you, wouldn’t you be prepared?”

Zhu Ming: “…” She doubted there was anyone more cunning and shameless than Yin Yu.

She walked over to Yin Yu and reached for her sleeve. Yin Yu obediently raised her arms. “Isn’t this a bit inappropriate in public?” she teased.

Ignoring her, Zhu Ming pulled the tattered sleeves of Yin Yu’s shirt dress around to her back and tied them tightly, transforming the simple white dress into a makeshift halter top.

“Your dress is still wearable. Don’t ask me for food coupons as compensation. If you want a new one, buy it yourself,” she said.

Having dealt with Yin Yu’s attire, Zhu Ming prepared to leave. She straddled the window, looking back. Her own torn black clothes weren’t much better than Yin Yu’s.

But bathed in the bright, golden sunlight, she looked like a black gemstone studded with gold. “Go back to your carriage 60,” she said. “Open the window for me when I need it, or I won’t trust you again.”

With that, she climbed out of the carriage and returned to carriage 1. Seeing her tattered clothes, Wenren Tu was furious. She was about to rush out and tear Yin Yu apart. “It was her again, wasn’t it?! I saw you two running around on the roof!”

Zhu Ming slapped her on the back. “Come on, would you even dare go up there?”

Wenren Tu: “…” Probably not.

Getting back to business, Zhu Ming showed them the two red train tickets. They had cleared out a four-seater, and the “passengers” in the other seats were stirring restlessly.

Zhu Ming kept one ticket and gave the other to Wenren Tu. When the front door opened at night, they could finally access the engine compartment.

“Didn’t you say even the siblings’ own sister couldn’t tell them apart? How did you do it? Don’t tell me you just… killed them both?” Wenren Tu asked curiously.

Zhu Ming, occupying two seats, was catching up on sleep. She replied, eyes closed, “I’m not that unreasonable. It’s like this…” She briefly explained her method.

A while later, the blond man returned, asking if they had made any progress in carriage 1. He had gone to carriage 33 during the summer cycle, seeing that there had been no progress in 37 yet.

He had arrived at the right time. Wenren Tu told him about the method for identifying the fake participant and asked him to inform the others in the other carriages. There might be other disguised ghosts, especially in carriages without participants during the transition to the second day.

Learning that they had obtained the red tickets, the blond man was overjoyed. The train could finally be stopped! He hurried back to inform the others, then returned to carriage 1, wanting to see how they would stop the train.

The golden autumn quickly passed. As night fell, Zhu Ming was nudged awake.

Eight minutes into the “night,” the carriage doors opened. The seven participants squeezed into the small compartment. A digital display on the heavy metal door read: Please insert red train ticket.

Without hesitation, Zhu Ming inserted a red ticket into the card reader below the display.

Hum—

The ticket was swallowed by the machine. The heavy metal door vibrated, the small screen displaying cheerful fireworks and playing a celebratory tune as the door slowly opened, finally revealing the engine compartment!

Everyone was excited, even Jia-jie, who usually kept her distance, smiled.

It was a simple driver’s cabin, unlike the train’s antiquated exterior. At the front was a control panel with a digital display and a red button beneath it. A large, comfortable swivel chair sat in the center, currently occupied by a man with his feet propped up on the control panel. Beside him was the familiar cart.

The border collie vendor was napping on the floor. The scene was peaceful and serene.

A round of applause. The chair swiveled 180 degrees, revealing a young, handsome man in a neatly pressed Zhongshan suit and a peaked cap. He looked at them with an approving gaze. “You’ve reached here on only the second day? Quite impressive.”

His appearance, like a final boss, made them wary. Did they have to defeat him to complete the instance? Wenren Tu stepped forward, her tone blunt. “Are you the driver? Stop the train!”

The man shook his head. “I’m the owner of the Four Seasons Train, but that doesn’t mean I can control its movement. Some things are immutable.” He smiled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Since you’re here, why don’t you try controlling it yourselves?”

While he wasn’t looking, Legs dashed to the control panel, then quickly returned, her face pale.

“The screen is a monitor showing the train’s route,” she said. “The button says ‘Accelerate.’”

The train owner shrugged. “Don’t be afraid. I’m a civilized man. I’ll allow you to look around, as long as you don’t damage anything. Oh, wait… you can’t damage anything anyway. Hahahaha!”

“Let’s search the place.” Wenren Tu and the others spread out, thoroughly examining the small cabin, especially the control panel.

The digital display showed live feeds from all the carriages. It was daytime, and most carriages were filled with the usual noise and activity. In the center of the screen was a circular route map, divided into four colored sections: pink, green, yellow, and white, representing spring, summer, autumn, and winter. A small black arrow, representing the train, was slowly moving through the white section. The cycle would repeat endlessly.

There were no other hidden mechanisms. The only thing they could interact with was the red button. But the word on the button made them hesitate.

There was no “Stop” button, no way to stop the train, only “Accelerate.”

What was the point of reaching the engine compartment then?!

Despair, confusion, and frustration filled the air, heavy and suffocating.

The night was short. The train entered the fifth round of winter, the scenery outside turning white with snow, the temperature dropping. Perhaps because they had opened the engine compartment, the two doors connecting it to carriage 1 remained open, while the other carriage doors closed as usual.

Zhu Ming walked over to the train owner and tapped his chair, her eyes narrowed.

The train owner, who had been watching the monitors, knew what she was like. He coughed delicately. “You can’t harm me. I have absolute defense in here. So don’t even think about attacking me.”

He was right. Zhu Ming glared at him, summoning a small flame, which dissipated harmlessly against his body. He was like the train itself, invulnerable, indestructible.

The train owner picked up his border collie and stroked it, enjoying their despair.

They had paid the price of a life to discover what the train truly harvested. They had risked their lives, struggled, and finally obtained the red tickets to open the engine compartment, thinking they could finally stop this relentless train, only to realize they were still far from the end!

What could be more satisfying than this? The train owner grinned, shaking the dog’s paw. Their reactions were perfect. His elaborate prank was a success.

He hummed the Super Mario Bros. theme song, then suddenly found himself yanked off his chair by the collar.

The train owner: “?”

He turned to see Zhu Ming sprawled in his seat.

He was both amused and annoyed. “You think you can control this train just by stealing my chair? Don’t be naive.”

Zhu Ming crossed her legs, her tone condescending. “You’re the naive one. I just don’t like people sitting higher than me.”

The train owner was speechless. He had absolute defense; he wasn’t afraid of being attacked… But Zhu Ming hadn’t attacked him. She had simply… moved him. Fine, be arrogant, be smug. In the end, you’ll still have to surrender your lifespan.

Zhu Ming swiveled the chair to face the control panel. Not only were the others stumped, but she had no idea what to do either. She had suspected opening the engine compartment wouldn’t solve everything. Even stopping the train would only minimize the damage, but the damage had already been done.

Wenren Tu, deep in thought, discreetly tried using her electricity to disrupt the train’s systems, but it didn’t work. She placed her finger on the red button, hesitant to press it.

“Even though the label might be fake,” Jia-jie said, “I wouldn’t recommend taking the risk.”

Wenren Tu said, “I know. I was just testing the train owner. Zhu Ming, look! Any reaction?”

Zhu Ming chuckled sheepishly. “I wasn’t looking at him.”

Wenren Tu sighed and retracted her hand. There were no other buttons or controls besides the “Accelerate” button. If pressing it truly accelerated the train, then their lifespans would be drained even faster. Whoever pressed the button would be responsible for everyone’s deaths.

But if it was actually a “Stop” button, and the label was fake, then not pressing it meant continuing to lose their lives.

Frustrated, Wenren Tu slammed her fist on the control panel, then walked towards the border collie vendor, her face grim. “Good boy, I want to buy three ropes.”

The dog dutifully retrieved the items from the compartment under the cart. Wenren Tu uncoiled the ropes. Zhu Ming immediately jumped off the chair and walked over. She knew what Wenren Tu was planning. Excellent. She wanted to do the same.

When it came to causing mischief, they were always on the same wavelength.

Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu approached the train owner, ropes in hand, their intentions clear. The train owner panicked momentarily, then forced himself to remain calm. “What are you doing?! I’m warning you, don’t try anything funny!”

Zhu Ming’s voice was cold. “I know you have absolute defense. We can’t hurt you. Don’t worry, we’re not going to attack you.”

Behind them, Legs, the blond man, Jia-jie, and the other two Awakened individuals all rolled up their sleeves.

The engine compartment was small, and the conductor didn’t interfere here. Outnumbered, the train owner was quickly overpowered. Five minutes later, he was tied up and hanging upside down in the aisle of carriage 1, the luggage racks conveniently serving as anchor points for the ropes.

Blood rushed to his head, making him dizzy and lightheaded. His face red, he yelled, “You dare offend me?! I’ll make this journey a living hell for you!”

Zhu Ming and Wenren Tu sat down, one on each side, taking turns pushing him gently. Zhu Ming said, “The train is on autopilot. It doesn’t even need you to control it. What can you do? Go ahead, try something.”

External attacks had no effect on the train owner, but what about internal ones? He gritted his teeth and thrashed around, his dizziness intensifying, almost making him vomit. And since he was the one moving, the stupid conductor kept hitting him, regardless of his status.

Furious, the train owner vowed to fire the conductor as soon as he got back!

The little vendor, seeing its owner tied up, barked anxiously. The train owner tried to soothe it. “Good boy, Daddy’s fine! We’re just playing! It’s not time for your walk yet. Go back now.”

Bound by the rules, the vendor could only whimper and retreat to the engine compartment.

…

Venting their frustration on the train owner didn’t change the fact that the train was still moving.

The blond man was deeply disappointed. He had thought staying in carriage 1 would allow him to hear the good news first, but he had just experienced the crushing despair of falling from heaven to hell.

Dejected, he climbed out of the carriage, intending to inform his companions that there was no hope of stopping the train and they needed to find another solution.

“Wait,” Wenren Tu called out to him. “You can tell them that they can jump off the train if they want, but we don’t know the consequences. It’s their decision.”

The blond man sighed. “Actually, we considered that when we realized we could climb out the windows.” But firstly, they weren’t sure if it was safe outside, and secondly, there was hope of stopping the train in carriage 1, so they had chosen to wait.

He continued, “We threw some clothes out the window and they came back around with the train. It should be safe outside. It seems jumping off is our only option now. If we stay in one season and don’t move forward, we won’t continue losing our lifespan.”

The train owner clicked his tongue.

Wenren Tu gave him another push. “What? You have a problem with that?”

The train owner shook his head. “No. Jumping off is a wise choice. I find today’s youth quite rational. Very good, very good. Of course, if you’re stubborn and want to waste your lives, I won’t stop you. Don’t think I’m lying. I don’t want to kill all of you. If you leave, there will be more participants. As long as I’m entertained, that’s enough. Hahahaha!”

Wenren Tu frowned dramatically. “Youth? You’re acting like an old man! How old are you anyway?!”

The train owner chuckled mysteriously. “You can guess, but I doubt you’ll get it right.”

Wenren Tu, speechless, gave him a hard shove. He was so annoying!

The blond man scratched his head. “You guys should make a decision soon. Oh, and I hope you won’t press that button too quickly. At least wait until after the next spring cycle.”

He had decided. Spring was the most comfortable season. Jumping off in spring meant not having to worry about freezing or overheating. If they stocked up on food and water beforehand, they had a good chance of surviving until the mission ended.

The blond man left carriage 1 to inform the others.

Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, Legs, Jia-jie, and the two other participants remained. After careful consideration, the two other participants decided to jump. Zhu Ming and the others wouldn’t stop them.

“What about you? Are you jumping?” Wenren Tu asked Legs.

“I want to wait and see,” Legs said hesitantly. “If they’re safe after jumping, I might go too.”

In this cold winter, debates raged in every carriage. Some argued they should jump immediately to minimize their losses, while others believed there was still hope and they shouldn’t give up so easily.

When the sixth round of spring arrived, someone took the plunge, wrapping themselves in a down jacket and carefully climbing out the window.

All eyes were on him as he tumbled onto the ground, slowly got up, removed the jacket, looked around, and then waved excitedly. “I made it!”

The spring meadow was beautiful and vast, green grass dotted with colorful wildflowers, a gentle breeze, a pleasant temperature, even the sunlight was perfect, warm but not scorching.

With the first successful jump, more and more participants followed. They traded their remaining food coupons for supplies, hoping to survive the fifth day.

Driven by herd mentality, no one wanted to be left alone in another season, especially since the tunnels couldn’t be traversed on foot. The two participants in carriage 1 also carefully jumped, sustaining minor injuries from the moving train, but it was better than losing years of their lives.

The jumpers gathered below. Zhu Ming sat by the window, watching as they became smaller and smaller in the distance.

“No!” Zhu Ming’s face paled, suddenly realizing something. “Why are there so many people down there?!”

Jia-jie, who had also been watching, adjusted her glasses, her voice cold. “The ghosts with train tickets must have jumped too.”

Ghosts who hadn’t been exposed could maintain their human disguises, move between carriages, and even go outside. Many participants were alone and hadn’t encountered such ghosts, so there was no way to verify their identities.

Legs said quickly, “I’ll go down and tell them! I’m fast! You guys can pull me back up!”

Time was running out. Legs put on her down jacket to cushion the fall. Zhu Ming hung upside down out the window, lowering Legs down until she was close to the ground. Because of the low height, Legs landed safely. She scrambled to her feet and ran towards the nearest participant—

No.

She ran past them.

Unable to be sure if they were a real participant or a disguised ghost, Legs targeted a familiar face, waving her arms. “Over here! Come here!”

The person, a little confused, ran towards her.

Legs quickly explained about the discrepancy in the number of participants, then turned and chased after the train.

She was fast, able to reach speeds of 100 meters per second at her peak, but her ability had a fatal flaw: it wasn’t sustainable. And the faster she ran, the shorter the duration. At her top speed, she could only maintain it for three seconds before collapsing from exhaustion.

She ripped off her down jacket as she ran, her body overheating, her face flushed.

Damn it, she was getting tired! Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision. The train was close, but she didn’t have the strength to climb back on.

“Give me your hand!”

Legs’ spirits lifted. She looked up to see Zhu Ming! She had gone to the back of the train to help her!

Zhu Ming, gripping the railing with one hand, reached out with the other. Legs, panting, her body heavy with exhaustion, swiped at Zhu Ming’s hand, but her sweaty fingers couldn’t get a grip. She missed.

Seeing that Legs wasn’t gaining ground, but falling behind, Zhu Ming hooked her foot around the railing, leaned out, and grabbed Legs’ wrists with both hands.

Legs, tears streaming down her face, yelled against the wind, “I can’t… I don’t have… any strength left!”

Zhu Ming reassured her, “I’ll pull you. I’m strong.”

She pulled Legs closer, but hanging upside down made it difficult to lift her onto the train.

Legs, while running, tried to hook her foot onto the narrow ledge beneath the train, but it was too small. She couldn’t get a grip and almost tripped.

“My legs are too short! Waaaaah!” Legs cried in frustration. “I can’t get up!”

Against the roar of the wind, Zhu Ming yelled, “Try again!”

Legs tried again, but her legs gave out. She screamed as she fell, her body dragging along the ground, held up only by Zhu Ming’s grip on her wrists.

Legs’ fall and the added weight were too much. Zhu Ming’s grip on the railing was slipping!

Just then, a hand grabbed Zhu Ming’s belt, pulling her back.

Yin Yu, leaning halfway out of the last window of carriage 60, held onto Zhu Ming, smiling. “Hello there!” Yin Yu pulled on Zhu Ming, who pulled on Legs, and they finally managed to pull her back onto the train.

They tumbled into carriage 60, one after another.

Legs lay on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Her ankle was injured, and she couldn’t move. She had been dead weight, completely helpless, only able to be dragged and carried by Zhu Ming.

“Don’t worry. We’ll buy some medicine when the vendor comes. You’ll be fine soon,” Yin Yu said, helping her to a seat, her clothes clean and white once more.

Legs sniffled and wiped her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m not scared! It just hurts!”

This woman was so gentle, so beautiful! Legs adored her. But… she seemed to have some kind of conflict with Zhu Ming…

Legs glanced nervously at Zhu Ming, hoping she wouldn’t be accused of switching sides.

Zhu Ming, exhausted, was lying down, resting, oblivious to Legs’ inner turmoil.

Yin Yu sat down beside Legs, gently wiping her tears with a tissue. “Little one, I remember you. Mingming cares about you a lot.”