Translator: Cinder Translations
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Seven people remained, but there were eight branches.
One extra branch.
"How could this happen?" You Qi had a mournful expression as he stretched out his hand, trembling, as if hoping someone would claim the extra branch. He stammered, "Whose branch is this?"
Of course, no one would claim it. Everyone just looked at him with pity.
Chen Qiang instinctively glanced at the painting. His action seemed to trigger a chain reaction, as the others also turned their gaze toward it.
If there was still another "person" in this house, it would be the woman in the painting.
Could the extra branch belong to her?
Seeing this, You Qi's face turned deathly pale, as if all the blood had been drained from it.
Though terrified, he didn't dare to carelessly throw away the branch given by the NPC. Moreover, he didn't know which of the two branches to discard. His entire face twisted in distress.
Just as everyone expected, the night was far from over.
"Did you notice?" An Xuan spoke up. "Earlier, she said it was the master who sent her to inform us."
Before this, she had only ever mentioned the young master.
Xia Meng nodded slightly, narrowing her eyes. "It seems they already know we have figured out Young Master Huang's true identity, so they've stopped hiding it."
Night fell quickly. After dinner, everyone gathered in Jiang Cheng's side room, waiting for the task to begin.
An Xuan once again reviewed some key details of the mission and the points to be cautious about. "Based on the rules this time, the ghost is very likely to disguise itself as one of us and then lure others into speaking."
He glanced at each person. When his gaze met Jiang Cheng's, he noticed that Jiang Cheng was staring at him as well. An Xuan quickly and naturally averted his eyes. "So my suggestion is: no matter what you see or hear, don't say a word."
"And about this branch." He opened his hand, revealing a small section of the branch resting quietly in his palm. "Once you put it in your mouth, do not take it out until the task is over."
At the mention of the branch, everyone glanced at You Qi, who was curled up in the corner. His face looked even worse.
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
The sound of drums echoed, heavy and dull.
Everyone's pupils constricted—the mission had begun.
When they arrived at the lakeshore, the water was once again shrouded in mist. What was even stranger was that the fog was denser than before, blanketing the surface of the lake in an eerie white haze with extremely low visibility.
A small boat emerged from the fog and docked at the shore.
No one was particularly surprised—according to the rules, they were to be separated using boats.
What did surprise them, however, was that this time, the boat wasn't empty. Instead, it contained a paper head and a bright red opera costume.
The costume was propped up by a wooden frame at the bow of the boat, with the paper head placed atop it. At first glance, it looked like a person standing on the boat with arms outstretched. Combined with the eerie surroundings, the sight was chilling.
The rules stated that once they reached the designated location and placed the branch in their mouths, they were not allowed to speak. But at this moment, You Qi couldn't hold back. He asked, "Are we… supposed to wear this? The rules didn't say—"
Before he could finish, he abruptly stopped, as if someone had gripped his throat.
Because from the fog, more boats silently emerged.
Each boat carried a set of the same bright red opera costume, its sleeves and hem fluttering in the night breeze—like figures dancing in the dark.
Xia Meng counted.
Seven boats in total.
An Xuan took a deep breath and was the first to step onto a boat. The situation was clear—they had to put on the red opera costumes and wear the paper heads.
However, everyone was cautious. Instead of taking off their original attire, they simply put the red opera costume over it, making their figures appear somewhat bulky.
The moment they finished dressing and donned the paper heads, the seven boats set off simultaneously, each heading in a different direction, disappearing into the mist.
Swallowing nervously, the chubby man glanced around. The thick mist obscured everything; he couldn't see any of the other boats. The water beneath him made strange noises, but his rationality stopped him from peeking over the edge.
He feared seeing something he shouldn't—perhaps a bloated, rotting face floating in the water, or a corpse with pale arms reaching out from the depths.
His imagination ran wild. In just a few seconds, he conjured up dozens of possible ghostly murder scenarios. The result? He crouched in the middle of the boat, curling his large frame into as small a ball as possible. His head swiveled around constantly, scanning every direction like a living, breathing radar.
He remained in this state until he reached the shore.
According to the game rules, he only needed to wait here. Someone would come for him and pass the "bride" to him, and then he would take the bride to the next person.
The process wasn't complicated. As a doctor had once explained, it was just a variation of the Shoulder Tap Game.
In the Shoulder Tap Game, four people participate at midnight in a rectangular, darkened room. All the lights must be off, and each person must stand in a different corner, facing the wall without turning around.
The game begins when the first person walks to the next corner and taps the person in front of them on the shoulder. Then, the tapped person repeats the action, moving in the same direction, either clockwise or counterclockwise.
If someone reaches an empty corner, they must cough before continuing past it to the next occupied corner.
After a while, there comes a moment when no one coughs. This means that every corner is occupied, yet according to the rules, one person is still walking.
The extra person is the new participant in the game.
But in this bride retrieval ceremony, the setting was much larger—they were moving around this eerie, ghostly lake.
The seven people had been spread far apart, making it impossible to hear a cough. The rules also forbade them from making any sound.
Wearing the identical paper heads and red opera costumes ensured they wouldn't recognize each other.
It was all too deliberate—just shy of outright stating that the ghost was planning to blend in and kill them.
Once ashore, the chubby man immediately noticed a paper figure.
It stood beneath a tree, seven or eight meters from the shore, wearing an exaggeratedly eerie makeup, a green melon cap on its head, and a long braid hanging down its side.
Under the dim moonlight, the paper figure struck a bizarre pose—slightly hunched over, one arm extended, pointing towards the pitch-black left side.
His breathing grew uncontrollably rapid. Slowly, he turned his body, following the paper figure's direction. He faced the left side and stood still, silent.
He had no idea how long this torment lasted.
Suddenly, a rustling sound arose behind him—like someone dragging their feet, scraping the ground inch by inch, getting closer and closer…
(End of the Chapter)
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