Translator: Cinder Translations
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After turning around, Xia Meng looked in the direction the fatty was staring, and then her pupils suddenly contracted.
On the previously blank wall, a painting had appeared.
The painting depicted a beautiful woman in a bright red opera costume, gracefully dancing.
Her steps were light, her fingers delicately holding an orchid gesture, her jade-like fingers slender, her neck pale and elegant. The opera costume hinted at her alluring curves beneath.
The painter's skill was profound. Even though only a small part of the woman's face was visible, the subtle charm exuding from the painting was palpable, creating a powerful atmosphere.
As soon as they saw the woman, everyone thought of the story of Young Master Huang.
"Look... look at the opera costume she's wearing," the fatty said, pointing at the painting, but before he could fully extend his finger, he seemed to realize something and quickly retracted it, frightened.
"Why does it look so familiar?" he stammered.
Of course, it was familiar. This was the same opera costume that had been hanging downstairs in Young Master Huang's residence.
It was also the same costume that Tang Shirou had been wearing this morning, after she had been skinned.
The sudden appearance of such a painting here surely had a deeper meaning. Xia Meng immediately thought of An Xuan and the others who had tried to force their way into their room earlier.
"It's this painting!" Xia Meng said with certainty. "This is the painting An Xuan and the others were looking for!"
"This painting appeared in their room yesterday?" The fatty's eyes widened. This news didn't bring him any sense of security; on the contrary, it made him even more afraid.
Because Tang Shirou had been staying in An Xuan's room.
But she was dead.
"Married" by Young Master Huang.
Taken away in a paper sedan chair.
The sudden appearance of the painting inevitably led them to think of the worst possible scenario. Could the painting be an omen, foretelling that one of the three of them would die today?
But... who?
And why?
Had they done something wrong?
They had explored relatively less dangerous areas today, while the other two teams had gone to Young Master Huang's residence and the haunted abandoned house from last night.
Xia Meng's expression froze.
She had figured it out.
If there was anything that had gone wrong today, it must have been the meal they had this morning.
That blood!
Slowly turning her head, Xia Meng looked at Jiang Cheng with a gaze filled with disbelief and terror.
Jiang Cheng was sitting by the table, his expression calm, holding a teacup and sipping lightly, as if he had just returned from a leisurely stroll.
"You!" Xia Meng's beautiful eyes widened. "You! It was you!"
The fatty blinked. Although Xia Meng wasn't as composed as the doctor, she rarely lost her composure like this. His attention had now shifted from the strange painting to Xia Meng.
"You were the one who ate that bowl of blood!" Xia Meng exclaimed.
After a moment of silence, the fatty's expression also changed. He was stunned for several seconds before he turned to look at the doctor. Gradually, his expression began to lose control.
His lips trembled as if he wanted to confirm something, but... he didn't dare.
Jiang Cheng slowly put down his teacup. After a moment, he raised his head, and his eyes suddenly filled with something terrifying as he stared at Xia Meng.
"Hand over the newspaper," he said, looking at her.
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"Miss Zuo," Shi Liaozhi asked with a fake smile, "are you sure you didn't find anything during your trip with An Xuan?"
Zuo Jing glanced at Shi Liaozhi. "I've already said it many times. We got lost, and by the time we reached Young Master Huang's residence, it was too late."
"Alright," Shi Liaozhi nodded. "Alright."
These two words, spoken in succession, made Zuo Jing frown slightly, but she remained seated, her wide sleeves covering her wrists.
She didn't offer any further explanation. Since returning, she seemed like a different person.
Chen Qiang sat on his bed, observing the scene with a scrutinizing gaze. Shi Liaozhi's probing was too obvious. He had done it many times tonight, to the point of being annoying.
It seemed that An Xuan had gotten some leverage over Zuo Jing. Chen Qiang speculated that something must have gone wrong when the two of them were exploring Young Master Huang's attic, resulting in Zuo Jing being targeted by a ghost.
But then An Xuan had approached Zuo Jing, claiming he could help her, which led to...
Chen Qiang had no fondness for An Xuan. He just found it strange why so many people were willing to be manipulated by him.
If he were the one being blackmailed, his first instinct would be to find a way to counter it, not to conspire with the enemy. After all, Tang Shirou's fate was a clear warning.
From the current observations and the fragmented words of the players, Chen Qiang had already deduced some things, though they still needed verification.
For example... all the selected players were here to survive. Their ultimate goal was the same, so why were they so intent on undermining each other?
Was it just to find scapegoats?
He didn't think so.
The malice here was too great, so great that just standing there, he could feel the undisguised gazes from behind, wishing him dead.
Could it be... He suddenly clenched his fist, and his eyes changed.
Besides survival, were there other benefits here?
(End of the Chapter)
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