Translator: Cinder Translations
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Behind a jade-screen partition, numerous musical instruments were displayed—an erhu, a jinghu, a gong, a flute, and a danxian. In the corner stood a drum.
The strange things that Master Liao Zhi mentioned must have been referring to these.
"These things weren't here last time I came." Liao Zhi appeared tense, but he was unwilling to leave so easily. After all, he was the next one targeted by the ghost.
If he couldn't find any useful clues, tonight might very well be his last.
"These seem to be instruments used for opera performances." An Xuan was extremely cautious. He only observed but did not touch anything. He walked near the drum, examining it carefully.
"Look at the position of this drum." His voice had a slight shift, as if he had discovered something. "Doesn't it resemble the strange circle in the painting?"
In the painting, a round object appeared at the top of the pavilion. It wasn't large, and its size matched that of the drum.
Just as Jiang Cheng stepped forward, preparing to inspect the drum more closely, Liao Zhi accidentally knocked over a standing instrument while turning.
The instrument fell, its top striking the drumhead, producing a dull thud.
Because the impact landed on the drum's edge, the sound wasn't loud. However, the moment the noise echoed, all three of them felt a simultaneous shiver down their spines.
"What are you doing?!" An Xuan whispered angrily.
"S-Sorry…" Liao Zhi, who had caused the noise, was clearly more frightened than the other two. His face twisted with fear, as if he were about to die.
He immediately scanned the surroundings. Only after confirming nothing was unusual did he slowly regain some composure, though his fingers still trembled.
Jiang Cheng was even more cautious than them. He meticulously examined the surroundings—especially the ceiling, behind the partition, and near the bed—places where something could be hiding.
Only after ensuring nothing was out of place did he retract his gaze and return his attention to the drum.
> "At the third watch, the drum resounds; the boat sails beneath the moon. Half a plain pouch can ease one's sorrows."
The first line of the coded message directly referenced the drum. And now, a similar drum appeared in the painting. Could there be some hidden meaning here?
Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. There were so many instruments here, yet every night during the opera performance, he only ever heard the sound of the drum.
Was that truly just a coincidence?
The drum seemed very old, its red lacquer peeling off in many places, revealing a mottled surface filled with the traces of time. On the drumhead, there was a particularly noticeable stain.
It wasn't large—about the size of a few fingernails—but its shape was odd, prompting Jiang Cheng to take a few more glances.
As he pieced together everything in his mind, a bold idea began forming.
Just as he was about to reach out and touch the drum, a strange sensation suddenly washed over him.
He froze, scanning his surroundings. Then, he suddenly realized—An Xuan was missing.
"Where is An Xuan?" Jiang Cheng immediately asked Liao Zhi.
Liao Zhi, who had been studying a musical instrument at his feet, lifted his head and replied, "An Xuan went downstairs. He seemed to want to check that opera costume."
Jiang Cheng's heart tightened. He rechecked the surroundings—nothing seemed out of place. Yet, his instincts screamed that something was wrong.
He walked over to where An Xuan had been standing and viewed the room from his perspective. His gaze moved slowly until—
In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of the bronze mirror on the dressing table.
Through the reflection, he could see the bed.
And at that very moment, behind the canopy that had been empty before, a black shadow emerged.
The shadow wriggled forward. A bloodless, lifeless hand slowly reached out from the gap in the curtains.
Yet, in reality, the canopy remained perfectly still, unmoving.
Jiang Cheng took a deep breath and turned to Liao Zhi, his voice unnervingly calm. "Something may have happened to An Xuan."
"Huh?" Liao Zhi shuddered, his face paling. "How do you know?"
"In all this time, have you heard a single sound from downstairs?"
Liao Zhi thought for a moment, then his face turned deathly white. Indeed, downstairs was far too quiet.
"I'll go check. Stay hidden here." Jiang Cheng lowered his voice. "Even if something happens to An Xuan, I have a way to escape. But you… be extra careful."
Then, Jiang Cheng fixed Liao Zhi with a sincere gaze. "After all, the ghost is after you."
Liao Zhi wanted to go with him, but he didn't dare. Jiang Cheng was right—if something really had happened downstairs, he would be walking straight to his death.
"Alright… Mr. Hao, I'm counting on you." Liao Zhi's face was so pale that he was visibly trembling. "You really are a good person."
"You're too kind."
"Oh, wait." Liao Zhi grabbed Jiang Cheng's sleeve, his hands shaking. "Brother Hao, be extra careful with An Xuan and Zuo Jing. There's something between them… This whole mess might be something they orchestrated."
Hearing this, Jiang Cheng hesitated mid-step before reluctantly stopping. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well…"
"Hurry up," Jiang Cheng urged, casually glancing at the bronze mirror.
In its reflection, the ghost's head had already emerged halfway from behind the canopy. Its face was hanging low but was slowly lifting.
"I just have a feeling," Liao Zhi admitted. He wasn't sure why he was telling this to Jiang Cheng—perhaps it was simply because of his kindness. He didn't want someone like him to fall victim to a scheme.
Having been in mercenary groups before, Liao Zhi was highly sensitive to subtle gestures, eye signals, and even blinking patterns used for communication. He had once tried deciphering Zuo Jing and An Xuan's signals through Morse code but had failed.
"…Alright, I got it." Jiang Cheng pulled his arm free, his expression full of annoyance. "You wasted all that time over a 'feeling'?"
As Jiang Cheng walked away, Liao Zhi shrank behind the partition, straining his ears to listen for any sounds from downstairs.
An Xuan and Zuo Jing couldn't be trusted.
He thought to himself.
Perhaps… this Hao Shuai wasn't a bad person to cooperate with.
He might not seem entirely normal, but at least he had been loyal.
At least he hadn't abandoned him.
Lost in thought, Liao Zhi absently scratched his neck. Then, he suddenly frowned.
Strange. Why was his neck so itchy… and damp?
Where did this moisture come from?
The next second, a realization struck him.
That tingling, numbing sensation on his neck—he had felt it once before.
That was… on the boat, when something had been behind him.
His throat bobbed harshly as he stiffly turned his head—slowly, ever so slowly.
And at the last moment, as Jiang Cheng was stepping out of Young Master Huang's room, he caught a glimpse in the mirror—
A grotesquely swollen humanoid figure, nearly as wide as three men, was emerging from behind the canopy.
Its upper body sprawled on the ground as it crawled rapidly toward the partition where Liao Zhi was hiding.
(End of the Chapter)
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