Translator: Cinder Translations
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The sound of footsteps approached from afar, slow and deliberate, as if the person was full of confidence. However, the unsteady steps betrayed his true emotions.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
A knock echoed on the door. "Is Miss Chen here?" Qin Jian's voice came from outside, his breath steady and calm.
Yet, perhaps due to preconceived notions, the fatty couldn't shake the feeling that the old guy was actually struggling to catch his breath.
Before Jiang Cheng could respond, Xia Meng had already gotten out of bed.
She walked to the door but had no intention of opening it. Instead, she replied in a cold and indifferent tone, "What does Elder Qin want?"
"Nothing much." Qin Jian licked his lips and spoke in his usual calm tone, "We've just discussed some clues and wanted to go over them with you, Miss Chen, to decide on our next steps."
The fatty sneered inwardly. This old fox Qin Jian was no less scheming than the doctor. Clearly, he was afraid for his life and wanted to see the painting, yet he made it sound as if he were some kind of savior.
"Thank you for your concern, Elder Qin." Xia Meng cut him off without hesitation, her attitude now completely different from before. "I'm tired and need to rest. We can talk later when I have time."
No matter what Qin Jian said after that, Xia Meng did not respond.
After a brief standoff, Qin Jian left with a dark expression, flicking his sleeves in frustration.
After all, without any concrete evidence, he didn't dare to force his way in.
On his way back, Qin Jian frowned. He was now certain that the people inside that room were plotting something. Otherwise, why would Chen Xiaomeng refuse to let him in?
Just moments ago, she had invited him in voluntarily.
What was she so worried about?
Qin Jian's relaxed fingers suddenly tightened into a fist. Chen Xiaomeng had said, "I'm tired."
Why didn't she say, "We're tired"?
And what about that fatty and Hao Shuai? Why hadn't they spoken at all?
Could it be…
They weren't there?
A flicker of unease flashed in his eyes. He suddenly had a bad premonition.
He quickened his pace. He couldn't afford to wait any longer. He had to find a way to verify their words, and most importantly…
He had to see that painting!
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"Elder Qin."
Sitting calmly, An Xuan appeared relaxed. A flower pot sat in front of him, filled with an unnamed plant. It seemed to be nearing the end of its blooming season, already withering and lifeless.
Gently stroking a leaf, An Xuan smiled and looked up. "You don't actually believe what they said, do you?"
Qin Jian narrowed his eyes, his expression unchanged. "You overthink, Mr. An."
Hearing their conversation, You Qi sat up from the bed.
The painting that had been hanging in their room had disappeared. If it were still there, he wouldn't have dared to remain this relaxed.
"So that painting is the real problem," You Qi's voice sounded more serious than usual. "After it appeared in our room, Tang—"
He paused and glanced at An Xuan. Seeing no reaction from him, he continued, "That girl had an accident. Now the painting has been moved to their room. Looks like the next victims will be them."
"We just don't know who exactly," You Qi added with some regret.
In these kinds of missions, using human lives as test subjects was cruel but also the most effective way to uncover the truth.
As long as the ghost made a move, it would inevitably leave behind clues.
The ghost's method of killing, its appearance, its attire, even its movements and habits—these were all details that could help the survivors piece together the story and find a way out.
Take Tang Shirou's death as an example. They had already deduced that Young Master Huang had once been married, and that his wife was dead, with her body most likely sunk in the lake.
But right now, Qin Jian wasn't concerned about that.
While maintaining his composed demeanor in front of An Xuan and You Qi, his mind was preoccupied with those few lines of text:
"At the third watch, the drum sounds,
A boat sails across the lake,
A shrouded corpse travels at night,
Wealth rests upon silver frost."
What did it mean?
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"Doctor," the fatty whispered excitedly. "You're amazing! That old fox Qin Jian… took the bait!"
Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow.
"Heh." Xia Meng, who had just played along with Jiang Cheng's scheme, was clearly displeased. She glared at them and sneered, "I suggest you don't celebrate too soon. The final outcome is still unknown."
The fatty was about to retort when the middle-aged woman arrived. She still had the same lifeless expression as before as she mechanically relayed the rules for the night lake tour to them.
Before leaving, as usual, she informed them that the afternoon was free for them to move around the manor. However, some places were not recommended for them to visit.
The reason?
They might be frightened.
As for what kind of fright, the middle-aged woman didn't say, and Jiang Cheng's group didn't ask.
After she left, Jiang Cheng leisurely stood up, closed the door, stretched in an exaggerated manner, then darted toward the bookshelf in the room.
The bookshelf was as tall as a person, made of solid material. Knocking on it produced a dull sound.
Jiang Cheng spread his arms, grasped both sides of the bookshelf, and seemed to be preparing to move it.
"Doctor," the fatty ran over. "Let me do it!"
Jiang Cheng didn't let him. Instead, he pouted and turned to Xia Meng, "Mengmeng," he said dramatically, "help me~!"
Xia Meng glanced at him, then at the painting hanging on the wall, before turning away without a word.
Unbothered, Jiang Cheng continued his task, huffing and puffing as he dragged the heavy bookshelf in front of the painting, completely covering it.
Then, he made a few adjustments to ensure everything in the room looked natural.
"Doctor," the fatty stared at the now perfectly concealed painting. "You're…"
"Is the painting scary?" Jiang Cheng asked, panting.
The fatty answered instinctively, "Yes."
"What if the painting suddenly disappears?" Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes.
Xia Meng had seen enough. She pushed open the door and left.
Moments later, a sneaky figure crept along the gravel path, constantly glancing around as if afraid of being seen.
Then, in a flash, the person slipped into Jiang Cheng's room.
Once inside, Qin Jian immediately shut the door.
Hidden in the bushes nearby, a pair of eyes blinked.
"Doctor," the fatty whispered. "Qin Jian is here."
"Just like you said," he added. "That old fox wouldn't be able to rest until he saw it with his own eyes."
Half an hour earlier, everyone had gathered and discussed using the free afternoon to search for more clues.
Qin Jian had secretly followed Jiang Cheng's group. But after they had walked far enough away, he had hurried back to sneak into their room…
Because he had to see the painting.
Especially…
The words written on it.
(End of the Chapter)
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