Chapter 110 Shuangxi Town (IV) Soul-Summoning Bell

Sister Xu’s words were heavy with urgency, laced with a palpable sense of malice.

Qi Si seemed not to notice, lowering his eyelids. “Sister Xu, just go ahead and clear the dishes. Don’t worry about me; a steamed bun is enough.”

“Food cannot be left in the room.” Sister Xu said vaguely, carrying the bucket over to Qi Si. “Leftovers and such must be cleared away, or they’ll attract rats.”

“I’ll finish it.” Qi Si’s speech was slightly slurred because of the bun in his mouth, which actually made his tone sound much more sincere. “There’s only this little bit of bun, how could there be leftovers? Sister Xu, I wonder if you could leave me another bun to have as a midnight snack?”

Sister Xu said nothing, her refusal crystal clear.

Qi Si swallowed the bun in his hand with disappointment, then nibbled the skin off the bun. Finally, under Sister Xu’s watchful gaze, he put the small piece of bun he had hidden in his pocket into the wooden bucket.

Even the most obtuse players realized there was something wrong with the food after this encounter.

Du Xiaoyu had eaten the most at dinner. At this moment, his originally dark complexion had paled significantly, turning a sickly, waxy yellow.

The moment Sister Xu left, he asked urgently, “Brother Qi, there’s something wrong with dinner, isn’t there? That old woman didn’t want us to keep it because she was afraid we’d find out… I can’t believe I fell for her tricks and ate so much!”

Qi Si chuckled softly and said, “It won’t kill you; it should count as a clue.”

Du Xiaoyu breathed a sigh of relief and pricked up his ears, waiting for the rest. However, he saw the young man pull a handkerchief from his backpack, unhurriedly wiping the bun crumbs from the corner of his mouth, then flipping it over to wipe the grease off his hands.

His heart tightened again. After half a minute of tension, Qi Si slowly picked up his phone and tapped into the photo interface.

He saw that a new photo had appeared in the album—it was a close-up of the bell at Sister Xu’s waist.

“Brother Qi, this is…”

“I just snapped it.” Qi Si skillfully opened the browser, selected the image, and performed an image search.

This time, the result was not a terrifying Ghost Bride, but an entry.

【Soul-Summoning Bell: Leads the Yang soul out of the body, brings the Yin Ghost back to the living. Yin and Yang have no boundaries, when the bell rings, it returns to the mystical yellow.】

Shang Qingbei leaned over. “It seems that photos of specific objects can also yield useful results; it doesn’t have to be the photos sent by Xu Wen. Does anyone here know about Feng Shui or divination? Who knows what these superstitious descriptions mean?”

“I’m not sure how this instance is set up, but I once read a record in a book.”

Li Yao pondered for a moment and spoke slowly:

“Wang Sheng was determined to pass the imperial examinations and stayed in the capital for eighteen years before finally succeeding. After returning to his hometown, he learned that his wife had passed away half a year prior. He was both sorrowful and regretful. A wandering Taoist priest took pity on him and gave him a bell, telling him to wear it and never take it off.”

“Wang Sheng wore the bell. As soon as the bell rang, he saw his wife resurrected. Her voice and appearance were exactly the same as when she was alive—sweeping the courtyard, cooking, and making tea, just as virtuous as in his memories. At first, he suspected she was a ghost, but after living together for a long time, he found that she had breath and a heartbeat, looking completely like a living person, so his doubts were dispelled.”

“He brought his wife to the capital. They never had children, but he never took a concubine either. They lived lovingly like this for seven years. Wang Sheng gradually grew accustomed to this life and forgot the Taoist’s initial warning. Once, he listened to his colleague’s instigation and took off the bell, wanting to see his wife’s true appearance.”

“He entered the kitchen and saw that his wife, working by the stove, was actually a skeleton wearing clothes. The food was rotting, covered in maggots. He was terrified and fled, running out the door. After calming down, he put the bell back on and returned home, but he couldn’t find his wife anywhere. Within a year, he died of depression.”

Shang Qingbei put the dictionary he was holding aside, stroked his chin, and analyzed: “The wife was a ghost, but because of the Soul-Summoning Bell, she appeared to be a living person. From this, we can infer that Sister Xu is also a ghost.”

“The food wasn’t meant for humans to eat; it’s just because Sister Xu has the Soul-Summoning Bell that we didn’t notice anything amiss. The reason she wants to take away the leftovers is because she’s afraid that once they leave the range of the Soul-Summoning Bell, the problem will be exposed.”

Du Xiaoyu gasped, “Then can we still eat? What should we do about the food we’ve already eaten?”

“Eat. If you don’t eat, you’ll starve; if you eat, you won’t die—Wang Sheng ate it for seven years and was fine. Can’t you think for yourself?”

Shang Qingbei picked up the dictionary again, opened the first page, and started reading from “abandon,” practically having the words “I have an intolerance for stupidity” written on his face.

“Fine, fine, I’ll take a few more photos to see if there are any other clues, that’s fine, right?” Du Xiaoyu spat, took the phone from Qi Si’s hand, and started taking pictures in all directions.

The others also dispersed, searching every corner of the room, from the bedding to the pillowcases, searching with extreme care.

With his back to the light, Qi Si unfolded the handkerchief he had used to wipe his lips earlier.

On the white fabric, there were sparse, mottled bloodstains, as if someone had pricked their skin with a needle and then pressed it against the cloth.

The sky outside the window darkened. Red silk ribbons and paper-cuts intertwined, looking like an ocean formed of blood.

Qi Si folded the handkerchief casually, stuffed it into the other pocket, then stood up and walked to the window, looking toward the west wing.

The bride, called “Xier,” was sitting by the window, grabbing handfuls of meat and vegetables with her hands, stuffing them into her mouth like a beast. Her mind was clearly not clear.

An orphan girl with mental issues, “luckily” chosen to be married off in a grand ceremony to please the Joyous Goddess…

Qi Si believed that people are inherently selfish; whatever fell upon such a girl could never be a good thing.

He watched for a while, then lowered his head to observe the windowsill.

The windowsill’s construction was quite unique; the wooden structure protruded, forming a sharp corner. If one accidentally knocked against it, it would likely cause bleeding.

Qi Si noticed that the dark yellow wooden block was dotted with clumpy brown stains.

He pulled a blade from his wristband, scraped a bit off, and held it up to his eyes to examine it closely. “There’s blood here. It looks like someone died in this room.”

“What’s the situation?” Liu Bingding leaned in. “We’re staying here, we won’t run into anything tonight, will we?”

“We definitely will.” Li Yao’s tone was quite eerie. “I found a note. The things recorded on it are somewhat similar to our experience…”

She placed a crumpled piece of rice paper on the wooden table, on which a strange tale was written in traditional characters:

【In the town lived Zhang Sheng, whose trade was farming. He had two sisters, both exceptionally beautiful. In a year of famine, their meager property was exhausted, and they wandered the countryside, becoming separated on the way. He eventually searched his way to Shuangxi Town.】

【The town was filled with Paper Effigies and soldiers, gloomy all day long. Zhang Sheng was often trapped in nightmares, wasting away, dazed and not knowing why he had come… One day, he accidentally fell into a well and saw bones lying there, feeling despondent and sorrowful…】

A part of the story was missing, and the key points were vague, but the general idea could still be made out.

Zhang Sheng came to Shuangxi Town to find his missing sisters, but gradually got lost in the town, and unluckily fell into a well, where he saw a corpse.

This story was not unlike the players’ own experience; they were both here to look for people, and the people they were looking for were both good-looking.

The “Paper Effigies and soldiers” and “nightmares” recorded in the story would likely appear during the instance.

Shang Qingbei bit the end of his pen. “It seems that while looking for people, we must also be careful ourselves. We cannot forget our purpose and where we came from, and we should try to avoid the well.”

“There’s a corpse at the bottom of the well, which might be an important clue.” Qi Si added indifferently. “However, judging from this story, we really need to collect information as quickly as possible and take Xu Wen away from here to avoid getting lost like Zhang Sheng.”

Liu Bingding took the opportunity to hand a makeup mirror to Qi Si. “Brother Qi, I found this under the pillow just now. Could it be useful?”

After the phone incident, he was eager to clear his suspicion and wished he could pile everything he found in front of Qi Si.

Qi Si saw through his psychology clearly and readily took the mirror to examine it.

Li Yao said, “This is a relatively new model, equipped with an LED light. It doesn’t seem to belong to Shuangxi Town; it must have been left by Xu Wen.”

“It seems to be an important clue. Even if it’s not a clue, it can be used for lighting,” Shang Qingbei analyzed calmly.

Qi Si nodded and handed the makeup mirror to Liu Bingding. “You found it, you keep it.”

“This… is that okay?” Liu Bingding knew that important clues in the instance always involved danger, and he hesitated to take the mirror.

Shang Qingbei also chimed in, “Liu Bingding’s suspicion hasn’t been cleared yet. You should keep it, Qi Wen. The capable should do more, and we’ll all feel at ease.”

“Alright, I’ll keep it for now.” Qi Si smiled freely, turned back, and placed the makeup mirror on the bed. “It’s getting late. We’ll continue the search tomorrow. Everyone, get some rest early.”

The sky grew darker and darker. There were no lights or candles in the wing room, so it was indeed not suitable for continued exploration.

The players got into bed one after another. Du Xiaoyu also put his phone under his pillow, covered his head with the quilt, and fell asleep.

Qi Si slept on the bed in the middle, with Du Xiaoyu and Liu Bingding occupying the beds to his left and right.

Li Yao slept against the wall, Shang Qingbei was next to Du Xiaoyu, and there was an empty bed on the other side.

The players were not familiar with each other and knew well that not being able to sleep at night meant danger, so no one chatted at night. They all wrapped themselves in their quilts, trying their best to brew sleepiness.

In the silence where only breathing could be heard, Qi Si toyed with the makeup mirror in his hand, studying his own face.

Although he had painted himself in a mess in the Game Space, for some reason, what appeared in the mirror was his original face. Except for his eyes, which shone with an eerie, faint red, it looked no different from the photo in the newspaper at first glance.

No wonder Du Xiaoyu could recognize him at a glance.

Qi Si touched his chin; the rough skin and stubble felt distinct under his fingertips, quite different from the clean and smooth-skinned image in the mirror.

He was almost certain that in this role-playing instance, his appearance had changed, and in the eyes of the NPCs, he was probably a different person.

It was just unclear why players could still see each other’s most original images…

Qi Si suddenly thought of a very philosophical question:

Given that the player’s image in the eyes of NPCs and players is different, which image is the real one?

If the image seen by players is true, then the identity of “Investigator” and Xu Wen’s friend/relative cannot stand.

If the image seen by NPCs is true, why would the Eerie Game go to the trouble of distorting the players’ vision?

Thinking aimlessly like this, the sky outside the window stretched into an impenetrable, pitch-black darkness.

The players’ shallow breathing rose and fell, gradually becoming steady.

Drifting into dreams.

…

In the second half of the night, Shang Qingbei tossed and turned, not sleeping soundly.

His dreams were chaotic; one moment he was being chased by a terrifying Ghost, the next he was sitting in an exam room, unable to solve a single question.

Bad memories ruminated in waves. He woke up from his dream in a daze, and then heard thunderous snoring.

By the dim, hazy light, he saw Du Xiaoyu beside him with his mouth open, snoring, with a puddle of drool.

Shang Qingbei prided himself on being a smart person who could take the initiative and gain benefits in the Eerie Game. In his life, he hated nothing more than idiots like Du Xiaoyu, who had no plan for the future and spent their days goofing off.

He analyzed his temporary teammates in his heart using the concept of “mob mentality,” then twitched his mouth and turned over, out of sight, out of mind.

He didn’t expect that there was also someone sleeping on the other side, eyes wide open, facing him, seemingly staring at him.

His brain crashed for a second, and Shang Qingbei was almost instantly awake, holding his breath and observing the person.

It was a bride wearing a red wedding dress. Her features looked extremely young, and her face, covered in a thick layer of powder, was frighteningly white, reminding one of a lifelike corpse in an ancient tomb Coffin.

Shang Qingbei almost screamed.

The bride held her index finger to her lips. “Xier is scared… Xier is hiding for a while…”

Xier? That orphan girl with mental issues who was about to be married off?

She was running around during dinner, which gave him a fright; now she was running around again, and even ran into the room; didn’t anyone know how to keep her under control?

Shang Qingbei complained internally, but after all, he was under someone else’s roof and couldn’t say much.

He adjusted his sleeping position to lie on his back, about to close his eyes again to recharge.

Suddenly, a beam of light shone from his side, hitting Xier, and his eyes were also dazzled uncomfortably.

He looked along the beam of light from the corner of his eye and saw a cyan-black claw exposed from under the red wedding dress.

The sharp, long nails were pitch black, no different from the legendary zombie.

—Xier is a Ghost!

A conclusion exploded at the bottom of his mind, instantly consuming all the composure he had been forcing himself to maintain.

Shang Qingbei felt his whole body stiffen, unable to move, and could only move his gaze slightly and instinctively.

He saw that Qi Si had sat up from the bed at some point, holding the makeup mirror with the LED light turned on, acting as a light source.

The source of the light was explained, and Shang Qingbei didn’t care about face or self-respect anymore, hurriedly looking with pleading eyes at the young man who had also woken up in the night.

The latter seemed completely unaware of the anomaly, his face calm as well water, getting out of bed holding the light source, and walking toward him with a leisurely stroll.

“Since you’re already awake, come out and take a look with me.” Qi Si reached out and pulled the stunned Shang Qingbei up from the bed, dragging him out the door without question.

The words and actions were too matter-of-fact, not at all like the reaction one should have after being startled at night and encountering a Ghost.

Extremely suspicious!

Shang Qingbei hurriedly pulled his hand back, retreated to the head of the bed, picked up the English dictionary from the bedside, and held it in front of him. “Are you human or a Ghost?”

The young man, with his back to the light, looked at him with confusion, then suddenly realized and smiled, “Good vigilance.”

Then he spat out four words: “Eerie Game.”