Translator: Cinder Translations
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Outside the door, Qin Jian seemed to sense something. His previously dying voice had disappeared, replaced by an eerie tone that grew sharper and more distorted by the second.
"Why won't you open the door?"
"Open the door! Why won't you open the door!!"
By the end, the shrill voice was almost piercing enough to rupture eardrums—filled with resentment, distortion, and a mixture of countless negative emotions.
It was now clear that the voice belonged to a woman—not very old, but overflowing with boundless hatred.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The knocking on the door grew louder and louder, leaving bright red handprints on the pristine white paper of the door. The fragile-looking door didn't seem like it would last much longer.
However, Luo Jing's face showed no fear at all.
Because they had already seen through the ghost's scheme.
According to the rules, a ghost could not break into the room unless someone inside voluntarily opened the door for it.
Just like Shi Liaozhi, who had already lost consciousness.
Chen Qiang and Luo Jing huddled behind the door, remaining silent.
Gradually, the shadows on the door changed. What was once a single shadow became two.
The newly appeared shadow was far more translucent than the first. It had an average height but an abnormally wide body—twice as broad as a normal person. It stood slightly behind and to the side of the first figure.
It was clear now—the first shadow was indeed Qin Jian. But he was already dead. The figure outside was just his corpse.
And the second shadow… was the ghost that You Qi had mentioned.
The ghost was indeed a woman.
A bold yet chilling thought struck both Chen Qiang and Luo Jing at the same time—the bloated ghost had dragged Qin Jian's corpse ashore, propped it up at the door, and then stood behind it, using its hands to manipulate the corpse, making it knock on the door.
Trying to trick them into opening it.
"Was he looking for you?"
Hearing Jiang Cheng's voice, Fatty's face stiffened slightly, but he still nodded, hesitating as he replied, "Maybe… maybe so."
"What the hell is going on?" Jiang Cheng glanced at Fatty.
He was holding a large leaf, bigger than a human palm, with some sticky substance on it. He rubbed it between his fingers and tilted his head.
"This isn't some kind of secret signal, is it?"
Fatty had no idea how to explain, but he was sure the doctor was overthinking it.
Ten minutes ago, Fatty had been dozing off when he was suddenly woken by a knocking sound.
Rubbing his eyes, he looked around. In the dimly lit room, he suddenly noticed that the doctor's and Xia Meng's beds were both empty. No one else was in the room.
The moment he realized they were gone, Fatty instantly sobered up.
He suppressed his fear, kept his mouth shut, and shakily climbed out of bed, intending to hide under it.
But before he could crawl under, a terrifying memory surfaced—back when he first met the doctor, there had been a ghost that crawled out from under the bed.
Later, when they found Xie Yu, her corpse had been in a horrifying state.
Swallowing hard, Fatty immediately abandoned the idea.
What if he crawled under, only to find a ghost waiting there for him?
The next second, just as Fatty was wondering what had happened and where the doctor and Xia Meng had gone, he caught something in his peripheral vision—a hand reaching out from under his bed.
Before he could react, the hand quickly covered his mouth.
Then, to Fatty's shock, he saw the doctor and Xia Meng crawl out from under his bed.
It was the doctor who had covered his mouth.
Knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock, knock.
Knock.
The knocking sound continued. It wasn't loud, but in the silent night, it was crystal clear.
Fatty frowned. The sound had a distinct rhythm, almost like a coded message.
A sharp pinch on his face made him snap back to reality. Following the doctor's pointing finger, he turned to look—what he saw made him suck in a cold breath.
A perfectly round object was pressed against the window.
It seemed like someone was standing outside.
No—there was no way it was a person.
It was a ghost.
The shadow outside suddenly disappeared, followed by the sound of light footsteps running away.
Fatty blinked in confusion.
Did the ghost really think they would chase it outside in the middle of the night?
After waiting for a long time without any further movement, Jiang Cheng cautiously moved toward the window.
He took a quick peek through a gap, saw nothing unusual, and carefully pushed the window open a little.
The moment the window opened, a small object that had been wedged in the gap drifted down—it looked like… a piece of paper.
Picking it up, he found another large leaf tucked behind it.
The same type of leaf Fatty had plucked earlier in the day, the one he had used to wrap a steamed bun before giving it to the pitiful little beggar.
After hearing Fatty's explanation, Xia Meng shot him a glance but didn't say anything, clearly displeased that he had lied to her earlier.
Fatty, knowing better, avoided her gaze.
Unfolding the crumpled piece of paper, they found a crude drawing on it.
The center of the drawing featured what looked like a small boat, with three stick figures aboard.
The two figures at the front and back of the boat had their hands in motion, as if rowing. The one in the middle was drawn with more detail, standing upright, suggesting a higher status.
It seemed like the person who drew it was trying to convey that someone had been on a boat.
Below the middle figure, a broken line extended outward, ending in an arrow with the word "Huang" written beside it.
"Does this mean Young Master Huang was on the boat?" Fatty whispered, frowning. "But why are there people at the front and back? Are… are they all ghosts?"
Standing nearby, Xia Meng examined the drawing and pointed at a spot.
"What's this?"
The stick figure labeled "Huang" had a smudge over its head, as if something had been erased and then scribbled over.
"It's…" Fatty squinted. "Huh?"
He seemed to recognize something and suddenly exclaimed, "It looks like the erased part also said 'Huang.'"
"He crossed out a 'Huang' and then wrote 'Huang' again." Xia Meng adjusted her robe and looked up.
"What is he trying to say?"
"Could it be that even he isn't sure whether the person on the boat is really Young Master Huang?" Fatty suggested.
For now, this question remained unanswered.
Unless the little beggar returned—or they took the initiative to capture him and force an answer.
The drawing was clearly recent. The ink wasn't fully dry—Jiang Cheng smudged a bit with his finger, revealing fresh ink stains.
(End of the Chapter)
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