After finishing dinner with heavy hearts, the players returned to the courtyard, only to see that Li Zhi and a few others had returned earlier and were now standing under the eaves, directing the Jin family’s servants to replace the lanterns.
Everyone curiously gathered around. “What are you doing?”
Li Zhi was holding the lantern that had been taken down. “The previous lantern was too dim. After dark, you can’t see anything clearly. So, I’m having them replace it with a brighter one.”
Zhao Luan was baffled by her actions and frowned. “Why do you need it so bright?”
Once it gets dark, everyone will head to their rooms to sleep. There’s no reason to come out again, unless she plans to go for a midnight stroll?
Li Zhi, holding the lantern, remained composed and replied slowly, “Brighter light makes things easier to see. It’s less likely to trip and bump into things. Convenient for you, me, and everyone.” She looked at the servant hanging the lantern and asked with a bright smile, “Don’t you agree, young man?”
Zhao Luan: “…”
What on earth is she talking about? He didn’t get it at all!
The servant hanging the lantern gave an awkward but polite smile. “Yes, brighter is better. Master, does this brightness work for you?”
He flipped the switch, and the sudden brightness nearly blinded everyone.
Li Zhi nodded in satisfaction. “That’ll do, thanks.”
The servant moved the ladder and left. After replacing the lantern with a higher-wattage one, the courtyard indeed became much brighter. The light eased the players’ fear of the night, making them feel much safer compared to the previous night when the darkness was so thick you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.
However, Chi Yi still didn’t dare to return to bed. Just being near that window made her scalp tingle. She couldn’t shake the feeling that last night, hair had really crawled into her nose and ears and was now lurking inside her, waiting for the right moment.
She prepared to sleep on the floor and turned to see Li Zhi half-kneeling on the bed, using the ghost-repelling kitchen knife to carve a small hole in the window paper.
Chi Yi’s skin crawled. “Zhi Zhi! What are you doing?”
Last night, even with the window tightly shut, the hair still managed to squeeze through the cracks, and now she was making a hole in the paper on purpose? Was she trying to make it easier for the ghost to kill them?
Li Zhi pressed her eye against the thumb-sized hole. From that position, she had a perfect view of the entire courtyard.
She nodded in satisfaction. “Your kitchen knife is pretty handy.”
Not only could it repel ghosts, but it could also cut holes in windows. She wondered if she could get this all-purpose tool as a reward after clearing the game. If it were available, she’d spend all her points to get it.
Chi Yi scrambled onto the bed, looking through the tiny hole as the light from the courtyard lantern shone through, forming a thin beam. She was almost in tears. “Can you cover that back up? What if the ghost slips through that hole?”
Li Zhi pulled out the talisman pouch the Jin family master had given them earlier in the day. “Isn’t this what it’s for? We’ll test if the master was telling the truth.”
Chi Yi was on the verge of tears. “That only wards off the former madam! What about the three maid ghosts?”
Li Zhi said, “I don’t think they exist.”
Chi Yi was stunned. “Don’t exist? But didn’t you say earlier that there were two waves of ghosts last night?”
Li Zhi posed a question, “Would a ghost knock over a water kettle while walking?”
Chi Yi was speechless. Knocking over a water kettle was such a mundane action. In her mind, ghosts should have the same obstacle-avoiding abilities as cats. They’re supposed to glide through the world with supernatural grace. How could a ghost bumble around like that?
She lowered her voice and pointed at the lantern outside the window, “So that’s why you replaced the lantern? You suspect it’s a person?”
Li Zhi cleaned up the small hole she had carved in the window paper, making it easier to observe through. “We’ll know for sure tonight.”
Chi Yi was at a loss for words for a moment before replying, “In horror movies, it’s usually the ghost who peeks through a hole like that to watch people. You’ve flipped the script and are spying on the ghost instead.”
Li Zhi smiled humbly.
After everyone went back to their rooms, the live stream shifted to individual feeds. Unsurprisingly, Li Zhi and Chi Yi’s audience was the largest, as both of them were quite popular. With the two together, the number of viewers only grew:
[“Li Zhi’s crazy antics always amaze me, like that time she called ‘Daddy’ in the last instance.”]
[“Her thought process is really unique! Even the ghost didn’t expect to be spied on one day!”]
[“I don’t know why, but ever since we entered this instance, I’ve felt this oppressive atmosphere. This town just feels unsettling and creepy.”]
[“I feel like Li Zhi’s close to solving the mystery. She’s just too smart. Zhao Luan can’t even compete.”]
[“Zhao Luan’s just a brute without any brains. I’ve been wanting to say it for a while—comparing him to Li Zhi is an insult to her.”]
[“Hey, Li Zhi fans, can you hype her up without dragging Zhao Luan down? Stop trashing him, okay? Let’s leave Brother Luan out of it.”]
[“LOL, why are Zhao Luan fans here? Shouldn’t you be in his solo room instead of creeping around here in Li Zhi’s room?”]
[“Shoutout to Zhao Luan’s fans for boosting Li Zhi’s viewership. Here’s a little rose for you!”]
[“You Zhao Luan fans who say one thing but mean another, listen up! Your actions have betrayed you. Why not just switch teams and vote for Li Zhi already?”]
…
The lively banter in the chat lightened Chi Yi’s fear significantly. As the sky darkened, the lantern outside the courtyard still shone through the window paper, casting soft light into the room and illuminating the vague outlines of objects.
Lying on the bedding in the corner, Chi Yi whispered, “Are you really not coming to sleep?”
Li Zhi, sitting cross-legged by the window with a pillow, her elbow propped up on her head, replied lazily, “You go ahead. I’ll wait for the ghost.”
The way she said it made it sound like she had a date with the ghost. Chi Yi was momentarily speechless. She pulled the blanket over her head and tried to sleep.
As the night grew deeper and quieter, the only sound was Chi Yi’s steady breathing as she drifted into sleep. Outside, the night wind swept across the eaves, causing the bright lantern to sway gently. Li Zhi yawned, resting her head on her arm, staring at the shadow of swaying tree branches on the window paper.
After some time, the quiet courtyard was suddenly disturbed by the sound of raindrops.
Rain?
But the sound was faint and soft, slowly approaching as if something was moving.
Li Zhi’s drowsy mind snapped awake. She gripped the talisman pouch given by the NPC in her left hand and the kitchen knife in her right. Slowly, she edged closer to the window, squinting one eye as she peeked through the small hole in the paper.
At the arched gate of the courtyard, a white figure slowly walked in.
The figure was slender, moving with graceful, measured steps, like a lady raised in a noble household. Even her walking posture exuded elegance, each step perfectly measured as though each distance had been meticulously calculated.
But she was drenched. Her white gown clung tightly to her body, and her long black hair was entangled with strands of waterweed, as if she had just crawled out of a lake, her entire body dripping wet.
The faint sound of water droplets came from her.
As she walked, a trail of water formed behind her. Following that trail were three bloodied infants crawling slowly along the path of water. Li Zhi couldn’t hear any sounds from them, but judging by their expressions, she guessed they were smiling—wide, toothless mouths gaping open as they happily crawled around the ghostly woman’s feet.
The female ghost stood motionless at the window of the first room, her slender silhouette projected onto the window paper by the lantern’s light, swaying gently. Then, her long hair, dragging behind her like tentacles, began to move. It crawled up the window frame, just like the night before, silently squeezing through the cracks and slipping into the room.
Li Zhi remembered that the two players living in that room were part of Zhao Luan’s group.
She held her breath, contemplating the possibility of saving them, when suddenly, the ghost pressed against the window turned her head around. Despite the distance, Li Zhi could clearly feel the ghost sensing her through the small hole in the window.
In the blink of an eye, the ghost disappeared from the window. Li Zhi had no time to react, and before she knew it, an enormous, bloated eyeball appeared right in front of her.
The bloodshot, swollen eye was crawling with corpse worms, wriggling along the veins.
The ghost crouched outside, pressing her eye against the window paper, peering in through the small hole.
For a moment, their eyes met through the thin paper. The sudden, face-to-face confrontation was so shocking that even someone as calm as Li Zhi felt her scalp tingle. She immediately jerked back and, without hesitation, used her left hand to press the talisman pouch over the hole.
As the pouch neared the hole, a blood-curdling scream echoed from outside.
Li Zhi saw the ghost’s silhouette, cast on the window paper, retreat in a panic. A thin wisp of white smoke rose from the talisman pouch she used to block the hole, and the scent of sandalwood grew stronger.
The ghost’s screams became angrier, and the three blood-soaked infants at her feet began wailing, their sharp cries piercing the night wind. They stumbled toward the window, climbing up the ledge and slapping their tiny bloodied hands against the window in an attempt to break through.
Tiny, bloody handprints smeared across the window paper. Li Zhi tightened her grip on the kitchen knife and handed Chi Yi, who had been woken up and was trembling in fear, a bottle of confusion spray. In a low voice, she instructed, “If they get inside, spray this.”
The confusion spray could only be used once, and when sprayed, it would cause ghosts to mistake the user for one of their own. Li Zhi didn’t want to use it unless absolutely necessary.
But perhaps the talisman pouch was enough to deter them. After slapping the window for a while, the ghost infants quieted down and slowly crawled back down from the ledge. Outside, the female ghost’s trembling shadow was still visible on the window, and Li Zhi had a feeling it was out of frustration.
The white ghostly figure stood there for a moment, then, as if venting her anger, she raised her waterweed-entangled hands and slapped Li Zhi’s window hard.
Li Zhi: “…”
She wanted to say something but held back.
The viewers were getting excited:
[“Here it comes, here it comes! She’s about to say her famous line again!”]
[“Let me say it!!! ‘Powerless rage!!!’”]
[“Li Zhi really is a ghost’s worst nightmare, isn’t she?”]
…
But even after the ghost and the ghost infants disappeared into the courtyard, Li Zhi remained silent. The water stains and blood trails left by the crawling infants vanished along with them.
Chi Yi, drenched in cold sweat, clutched the confusion spray tightly, her palms slick with sweat. She collapsed onto the bed, utterly drained.
Li Zhi took out a piece of tape she had prepared in advance and sealed the small hole in the window. “Alright, go to sleep.”
Chi Yi, her body still weak, crawled back to her floor bedding. “They won’t come back, will they?”
“They shouldn’t.” Li Zhi lay down, gazing at the talisman pouch in her hand under the faint light. The earlier scent of sandalwood had faded, but after a while, it became somewhat pungent, giving off an odd odor.
“So, did you figure anything out?”
After such a heart-pounding experience, there had to be some sort of revelation, right?
Li Zhi closed her eyes and quietly said, “I can confirm that Feng Zhenghao wasn’t killed by the former madam.”