Chapter 120 Shuangxi Town (14): The Ghost of the Xu House

Behind the gauze curtain crouched a hunchbacked old man, dressed entirely in black—black clothes, black cloth shoes, a black hat—his white hair the only splash of color.

He paid the players no mind. With swollen fingers he lifted sheets of yellow paper and fed them into the brazier before him.

Qi Si asked, “Old sir, who are you burning paper for?”

Without turning, the old man rasped, “Sending word to the Joyous Goddess.”

“Sending word?”

“I burn scripture paper and whisper what I want to say. The Goddess will see it.”

Qi Si rubbed his chin, intrigued. “How do you know the Joyous Goddess can read? What if She’s illiterate?”

The old man froze, then whipped his head around. “What would a brat like you know? Spouting nonsense!”

The players saw his face—wrinkled like Sister Xu’s, but without the white powder, darker, more alive.

He waited a few breaths; when Qi Si said nothing, he assumed he’d cowed the youth and resumed feeding yellow paper to the flames.

Qi Si stepped closer, crouched, and wordlessly slipped a few sheets into the fire.

Du Xiaoyu had no idea what Qi Si was up to, but trusting a veteran beat trusting himself; he copied the gesture and tossed in a stack.

Shang Qingbei watched the swelling ranks of paper-burners and twitched. “Qi Wen, what are you people doing?”

Without looking up, Qi Si answered, “Sending paper to an acquaintance. In an Eerie Game the spirits might actually deliver the message.”

Shang Qingbei: “…” This guy’s insane.

The temple was eerily quiet; the crackle of the flames swallowed every breath, as though no people, no Ghosts, no gods were present.

The curtain between the side chamber and corridor drifted in a faint breeze, like a drop of blood diffusing through clear water.

By the leaping brazier the old man in black hunched, head bowed, focused and solemn, trembling as he fed each sheet to the fire.

The yellow paper blackened and curled, shrinking in seconds to charred bones, crumbling into the ash already thick on the iron grate; a few scraps rose on the heat, disintegrating into invisible motes.

After a while Qi Si asked casually, “Old sir, what are you telling the Joyous Goddess with all that scripture paper?”

The old man snapped, “I burn, that’s all. Year after year the same plea—keep us safe and sound.”

The firelight flickered across his face, making it impossible to read his expression.

Qi Si raised an eyebrow. “You come here to burn and pray every time?”

“Yes. This temple is under my care.”

“Sister Xu says the town’s haunted; people come here asking the Joyous Goddess to suppress the Ghosts?” Qi Si sounded like a tourist hungry for local lore—idle question, idle curiosity.

The old man’s face twisted; the wrinkles writhed like worms, as though some unbearable memory had surfaced.

Qi Si noted the reaction, feigned ignorance, and smiled. “Your town’s always celebrating weddings—looks festive. The boatman who ferried us said your water’s good, gathers fortune; the feng shui doesn’t look like ghost country.”

He left it hanging. The old man tossed his paper to the ground and sighed, “A sin… a sin indeed.”

Clearly he knew something.

Du Xiaoyu and Shang Qingbei held their breath and leaned closer.

The old man bit back his words.

Qi Si pressed, “Did something happen?”

“Nothing at all. Our town’s peaceful, protected by the Goddess—what could happen?”

“Oh?” Qi Si feigned surprise, stood back, and pointed toward another side chamber. “Then what are those Coffins about?”

Six identical Coffins lay silent, black against the temple’s scarlet, jarringly out of place.

Shang Qingbei realized Qi Si hadn’t burned paper to send messages; he’d only wanted to cozy up and pry information.

Never trust a single word from “Qi Wen”… Shang Qingbei’s eyes darkened as the conviction settled.

When no answer came, Qi Si continued, “Are the Coffins for the newly dead? Keeping them in a temple is an odd custom.”

As he spoke he toyed with the Identity Card hanging at his chest.

The old man could read; when he saw “Folklore Investigator” on the card, the crow’s-feet at his eyes deepened.

He dropped the yellow paper, braced his back, and stood, eyes boring through Qi Si as if to peer into his soul.

At last he bared toothless gums and rasped like a broken bellows: “Seven days in the temple makes them townsfolk; once townsfolk, they can be married off…”

Qi Si’s gaze snapped up as the old man’s skin peeled away like onion layers, revealing bluish-black flesh beneath, the verdigris under a faded idol.

“Run!” Shang Qingbei yelled, first to react.

He hugged his dictionary to his chest and bolted for the door.

Qi Si’s hand closed over the Pocket Watch of Fate; he wanted to observe a moment longer.

The next instant a reek of rot hit him. The old man’s flesh rippled like water as fat white maggots burst through, burrowing in oozing meat.

Countless black insects poured from mouth and nose, swarming over him, gnawing him inch by inch into nothing… sorry to intrude.

Qi Si abandoned any idea of lingering for clues and retreated step by step, careful not to alert whatever else might lurk in the temple.

Du Xiaoyu, one foot across the threshold, was first to see outside.

He jumped back, stammering, “L-look! Out there—what is that?”

Qi Si followed his pointing finger. Outside the temple white fog billowed; within it gray shapes stood scattered, drifting closer.

The nearest, only five paces away, proved to be a statue in wedding dress, colors faded except the face—painted red and white into a huge, grotesque grin.

“Shut the door,” Qi Si ordered.

Du Xiaoyu’s face crumpled. “Then we’re just trapped rats…”

Qi Si turned toward the side chamber on the right. After the black insects finished devouring the old man, they dissolved into smoke, leaving only a black robe drifting to the floor, quickly swarming with pale maggots.

Only now did Qi Si notice the robe was a burial shroud; at first he hadn’t realized.

A creaking came from the direction of the Statue of the Joyous God, mixed with the patter of lacquer flakes falling.

Beneath the Joyous God, the two statues—one male, one female—stirred, rising stiffly and shambling toward the players.

‘Seven statues outside,’ Shang Qingbei judged, barely holding his calm. ‘Shut the door and it’s three against six; leave it open and it’s three against nine.’

Du Xiaoyu, huddled behind Qi Si, whispered, ‘Should we rush out? We could split up—maybe some of us escape…’

Qi Si stepped back, ushering Du Xiaoyu forward. ‘Go ahead and run. Good luck—I believe in you.’

Du Xia Xiaoyu: ‘…’

While they spoke, the statues in the mist drew closer; the nearest stood one step from the threshold, as though about to press its face to the gap.

Those farther away came into view: identical crimson smiles, yet their brows were twisted in sorrow, as though the grins had been forced and fixed in place.

Shang Qingbei didn’t hesitate. He heaved the left half of the door shut, slamming it hard.

Qi Si pushed the right half closed, then slid the bar home, sealing both leaves together.

Behind them, the male and female statues seemed to limber up, baring bright teeth in smiles that stretched to their eyes. Arms flailing like dancers, they lurched forward.

‘We’re locked in!’ Du Xiaoyu quivered, his voice cracking.

People fear Ghosts because they fear death, and before death everyone is fragile.

Shang Qingbei’s lips were white from his own biting.

Surrounded by Ghosts in the Joyous God temple, shutting the door was the best choice—but not necessarily a path to survival.

Trapped in a sealed room with two Ghosts, total wipe-out was only a matter of time.

The Eerie Game never sets an absolute death trap; there had to be a solution… one of the three must carry an item that could deal with Ghosts… Shang Qingbei looked to Qi Si.

The young man’s expression was calm, something unreadable gathering in his deep eyes as he soundlessly retreated toward the left side chamber.

At a moment like this he was still hiding something—what was he planning?

Thud… thud… thud…

Knocks sounded on the barred temple door, one after another—testing, threatening.

Giggle-giggle… giggle-giggle…

Inside, the two statues danced, laughter like silver bells.

Du Xiaoyu’s legs shook, yet his hand slipped into his trousers and fished out a crumpled paper talisman.

A formal Investigator, however useless, would have at least one prop in reserve.

But would an ordinary prop really work?

Qi Si leaned against the Coffin, glancing toward the temple’s depths. His hand rested on a soul-suppressing nail driven into the Coffin’s corner, lashes lowered.

Since entering this instance, everything had been too strange.

On the first day the clues contradicted one another, and a key NPC connected to the main quest had given false information.

As a puzzle game, flooding players with misdirection from the start was malicious in every sense—an intentional attempt to kill them… as though the supreme rule behind the Eerie Game wanted him exterminated.

Cheating in a gamble is perilous; a discovered cheat inevitably brings backlash and punishment.

In the Hopeless Sea instance, his contest with the Puppeteer had involved cheating; the eyes of the rule hung overhead, perhaps not unaware… Qi Si lifted his gaze in sudden understanding.

Above the shrine, the deity in red lowered crimson eyes, pity in their gaze, a mocking smile on their lips—【side quest (Mandatory): Escape the Xu Residence】.

Nearby, a woman in elaborate bridal dress crouched in a ready-made blind spot of the courtyard, holding her breath.

After triggering the side quest in Xier’s room, Li Yao had lost Liu Bingding.

The scene around her shifted into something unfamiliar.

A three-courtyard compound loomed, layered and enclosing—not a modern layout.

Servants passing along the corridor wore mandarin jackets and queues, confirming her suspicion—

She had returned to Shuangxi Town centuries ago.

Distant footsteps pattered; two servants came through a moon gate, talking as they walked.

‘The young lady insists on marrying that boy. In my view we should throw him in the well; he knows too much—he’ll be trouble.’

‘Hah, what’s to fear? The magistrate turns a blind eye; a mere county registrar can’t make waves.’

‘True, but we must dispose of those goods soon—can’t leave evidence.’

‘Easy enough; so many men in the nearby towns need wives…’

At first Li Yao listened in confusion; at the last line her eyes turned cold.

—News reports: Xier vanished without trace; in Shuangxi Town she marries as an orphaned girl, bewildered.

—Shuangxi Town specializes in arranging weddings; Sister Xu leads the men each year, matchmaking for outsiders, bringing prosperity to the whole town.

Piecing the clues together, the answer was obvious.

The two servants came closer, stopped outside the side room, glanced in, and their voices turned panicked.

‘The young lady is gone!’

‘Quick, tell the old mistress—don’t tell me she’s run off with that boy!’

Li Yao knew the ‘young lady’ they spoke of was almost certainly the role she now played.

She pressed her lips tight, making no sound.

The servants shouted loudly, yet their movements stayed steady; they continued along their path and soon were only three paces from her hiding spot.

From Li Yao’s angle she could see their pale faces and rouge on their cheeks.

The red pigment where mouths should be split into grins that opened and closed, producing eerily lifelike voices.

They weren’t living people at all but life-sized Paper Effigies, clothed in paper garments, drifting unsteadily in the wind.

【The town is full of paper soldiers, gloomy all day. Scholar Zhang was trapped in nightmares, wasting away, dazed and unaware of how he arrived】

Tales of Paper Effigies flooded Li Yao’s mind; a chill ran down her spine.

She mustn’t be found by the Paper Effigies—she had to escape—but how?

‘So this is where you are…’

A thin voice sounded right behind her ear, icy breath brushing her nape.

Li Yao turned stiffly. A grotesque smile stretched to the corners of its eyes pressed against her nose, eerie and terrifying.