Chapter 43: Shanchi Haunted House (Part 3)
Chapter 43: Shanchi Haunted House (Part 3)
“What do you mean by ‘Ghost Palace’?” Wang Tan Zhi asked.
“Are you about to ask, ‘Is it edible?’ next?” Feng Bu Jue shot back.
“I’m way past the age of asking silly questions just to act cute… And I’m being serious here!” Wang Tan Zhi huffed.
“See for yourselves,” Feng Bu Jue said, stepping aside so Xiao Tan and Long Ge could examine what he’d been inspecting on the wall.
As they leaned closer, they noticed words carved into the stone—entirely in English. Players could activate their Game Menu to view translations.
It appeared to be a short poem:
Verdant depths of the valley,
Angels' vigilant guard.
Once stood a majestic palace—
Radiant splendor, towering to the heavens.
In the kingdom of ‘thought,’
It stood, majestically towering.
A six-winged angel unfurling wings,
Graceful arrival at the exquisite palace.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Wang Tan Zhi frowned, baffled.
“Maybe the article titled ‘Ghost Palace’ has six sections?” Long Ao Min guessed.
They both assumed Feng Bu Jue would explain everything eventually. But when they turned around, he was gone.
“Feng Bu Jue?” Wang Tan Zhi scanned the room, then glanced up the staircase to the second floor. “Where’d he go? Did he vanish the moment we looked away?”
Long Ao Min shrugged. “He did say we should split up earlier. He probably slipped off while we were reading.”
“Then let’s start searching for clues,” Wang Tan Zhi said. “Feng Bu Jue said to regroup here once the main quest updates.”
They began investigating the first floor, opening every accessible door for more fragments of “Ghost Palace” or other leads.
———
In the labyrinthine corridors of the first floor, two female players advanced cautiously. Their tense posture suggested they’d already encountered traps.
Siyu Ruoli clutched a gleaming longsword—a Common-quality weapon that had earned her the title Merciless Decapitator. Beiling Xiaogu, meanwhile, kept her firearm holstered. Like Feng Bu Jue, she’d deduced guns were useless in a scenario dominated by ghosts and traps.
“Hmm?” Bei Ling paused, then chuckled. “They’ve found a side quest.”
Siyu Ruoli glanced at the quest log. “Should we look for ‘Ghost Palace’ too?”
“Not intentionally,” Bei Ling mused. “We don’t even know what it is. Focus on our current clues first.”
They pressed onward.
———
On the second floor, Yongzhe Wudi stood in a cavernous room. Narrow, high-set windows allowed faint red light to seep in, casting an eerie glow over the shadowy oak floor. The source of the crimson hue remained a mystery in the dead of night.
Yongzhe Wudi’s sharp eyes failed to pierce the distant corners or the intricately carved ceiling, though he cared little for such details. As long as no monsters lurked in the shadows, he was satisfied.
Faded tapestries hung from the walls, and oversized, decrepit furniture loomed like relics of a forgotten era. Scattered books and broken instruments added no warmth to the oppressive gloom.
After checking the quest notification, he assumed the two female players had triggered the side quest. He doubted the three novices could’ve found it. Though not a puzzle expert, his experience as a class player taught him to rely on instinct.
He scoured the room for equipment or consumables but found only a wooden guitar and a snapped-string violin—useless for combat. His title, Rash Brawler, passively boosted his unarmed damage, making the fragile instruments redundant.
Next, he targeted the most suspicious object: an envelope on the desk, weighted down by an inkwell. Lifting the inkwell, he noticed a dried stain seeping through the envelope. He blew off dust, tapped it clean, and unfolded the letter inside.
The letter was incomplete, smudged with ink, and partially illegible. The writer, afflicted by a mysterious “Curse,” begged his closest friend to visit, hoping their presence might ease his torment. The text reeked of desperation, the handwriting shaky, the sentences disjointed.
Though puzzled, Yongzhe Wudi pocketed the letter. After a final sweep of the room, he left.
———
In a pitch-black stone tunnel, a flashlight flickered to life, illuminating a narrow path. Feng Bu Jue muttered, “This house is seriously messed up… Castlevania vibes? Spatial distortions and teleportation?”
Minutes earlier, he hadn’t intentionally slipped away from Xiao Tan and Long Ge. He’d simply wandered to another wall in the living room to examine a painting…
(End of Chapter)
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