Night had fallen, and snow drifted softly within the palace walls.
A newly appointed young guard was on duty for the first time. After the shift change, he stood watch beneath the Cold Moon Gate, but as the long night stretched on, he could not help but feel drowsy. Glancing around and seeing no one nearby, he leaned against the corridor and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Bang…”
A sharp, clear sound of something shattering broke the silence of the deep night.
The young guard jolted awake and instinctively reached for the blade at his waist. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned his surroundings with alert caution.
“Who is there! Show yourself!” he shouted angrily.
No one responded.
Cold Moon Palace lay in the southwestern corner of the imperial grounds, right beside the cold palace, where those forgotten concubines or condemned prisoners were kept.
Looking out, the long street was overgrown with weeds, and a thin layer of silver frost covered the cold stone path. The wind carried snowflakes through the empty palace halls ahead, producing a mournful, whimpering sound.
The night was utterly still. Moonlight pierced through the clouds and fell onto the faded palace doors, worn by time and erosion. Another gust of wind passed through, and with a creak, the vermilion doors slowly opened a crack.
The guard’s heart tightened. He gripped his sword even harder, yet curiosity pushed him forward step by step.
He leaned in close to the gap, peering carefully into the empty palace. The courtyard beyond was shrouded in moonlight, calm and still, with nothing unusual in sight.
The earlier sound seemed like an illusion.
Just as he scratched his head and prepared to withdraw, a pair of blood-red eyes suddenly burst out from the darkness, staring straight at him. Those eyes were deep and ghastly.
A chill surged from his feet to his spine. He instinctively stepped back, and in the next instant, the eerie eyes vanished from the crack in the door.
The wind around him suddenly stopped. Snow fell in silence.
Then a heavy hand landed on his shoulder from behind.
The guard froze, and before he could maintain his composure, a scream tore through the night.
“Ghost! There’s a ghost!”
“What nonsense are you shouting!” A slap came from behind, delivered by the captain of the guards.
“What are you doing here?”
Still rubbing his head, the young guard pointed at the palace doors. “I heard a sound and came to investigate. This place… is it housing people or ghosts?”
The captain glanced at him coldly, signaling him to shut up.
In the imperial palace, curiosity was not a virtue.
He then stepped up the stairs, pushed the creaking doors shut, and under the pale moonlight, the young guard faintly saw a figure inside.
A person lay collapsed on the cold stone floor, hair disheveled, curled up in pain. Low groans escaped him, but it was impossible to tell whether it was a man or a woman.
“That is the former crown prince who was deposed…”
As they stood beneath Cold Moon Gate, the captain brushed snow from the young guard’s cap.
“You are young, you do not know. He was once the most favored son of the late emperor, born of the empress herself, and was crowned heir at birth. He lived up to expectations, kind to the people, and was widely praised as a benevolent ruler. Everyone believed he would inherit the throne.”
“But later, for reasons unknown, he became erratic and violent, even storming the palace and claiming he would kill His Majesty.”
“Fortunately, heaven had eyes. His attempted assassination failed, and he was demoted to a commoner, never again allowed to leave the palace gates.”
“I heard his younger brother, the Sixth Prince, also mysteriously disappeared. How could a living prince just vanish?”
“In the end, his mother died, his wife perished, his brother scattered. He lost his sanity and now barely survives in the cold palace…”
The captain sighed as he looked toward the distant palace shrouded in falling snow.
“What a pity…”
The young guard glanced around before daring to ask, “Can madness be contagious?”
“I also heard from my cousin’s sister’s second uncle’s nephew’s friend that the Sixth Prince was abducted and killed by Wen Shu Yu, the famous Wen family strategist with three ministers in one court. Some say he intended to control the emperor from behind the scenes and is plotting rebellion. His Majesty is furious and has issued a warrant for his arrest, dead or alive…”
Dream Nightmare: System’s Escape Game
“First bow to Heaven and Earth!”
The officiant, also a paper figure, shouted at the top of its voice.
It was a dilapidated temple, with a cracked statue facing away from them. Cobwebs covered the interior, and peeling red paint revealed its long abandonment.
Yet the hall was filled with red candles and festive silk decorations. A ritual altar stood in the center with three ancestral tablets, offerings of livestock and grain on either side, and two cushioned seats beside an eight-sided table.
The paper bridegroom was shoved forward by other paper “companions.” A red veil covered its head, and beneath it, half of its decayed face still wore a strangely shy smile.
Whether from nervousness or the crude craftsmanship of its paper body, it trembled unnaturally.
Suddenly, one of its twisted fingers snapped off and dropped to the ground.
It froze.
The paper companions hurriedly picked up the finger and stuffed it back into place, laughing with eerie, rasping sounds.
The temple was packed with paper guests. They crowded around the altar, watching the couple, while paper musicians hung upside down from the rafters, blasting out a deafening wedding tune.
It was like a grotesque nightmare.
Tang Li thought so.
Tears filled her eyes with fear. Having grown up in a rational world, she had never witnessed anything like this. Her heart felt close to stopping.
“Mmm…”
Let me go.
She tried to scream, but the paper bride attendant forced a rag into her mouth and pinned her wrists, dragging her to the altar.
No matter how she struggled, she could not break free.
“First bow to Heaven and Earth!”
The officiant repeated impatiently.
In desperation, Tang Li shifted her strength to her legs.
She seized an opening and kicked hard at the paper bride attendant. The sound of tearing paper rang out, and for a brief moment she felt hope.
But her wrists only tightened further.
The paper bride attendant’s severed leg, instead of falling, moved as if alive, hopping back into place. It then kicked her hard behind the knees.
She collapsed onto the ceremonial platform, forced into a kneeling position. The paper attendant pressed her head down, compelling her to bow.
She was utterly trapped.
Cold sweat drenched her face as tears spilled uncontrollably from her frightened eyes. She looked like a fragile begonia flower battered by a storm.
“Second bow to the ancestors!”
She was forcibly turned and made to bow toward the ancestral tablets. One of them faintly bore the character “He.”
Was the paper groom named He?
He… was this “escape game” triggered by the System connected to He Sheng?
Before she could think further—
“Couple bows!”
Her head was forced down again, completing the ritual.
“Finally, the bride shall lift the groom’s veil!”
The paper attendants released her hands for a moment.
Tang Li’s eyes lit up, but a firm grip immediately returned to her shoulders, warning her not to flee.
“Lift it!”
Surrounded by jeering paper guests, she had no choice.
Her hands trembling, she grabbed the edge of the veil and pulled it off.
Silence fell instantly.
Everything vanished. White mist surrounded her.
Tang Li found herself standing in an empty space. The paper monsters were gone.
A room gradually appeared before her. She pushed open the door.
The air was thick with medicinal scent. Soft sobbing came from behind a screen.
“Lang!”
A woman knelt by the bedside, holding a medicine bowl, panicked and desperate.
“Wake up, drink this medicine…”
On the bed lay a young man, unmoving as if under a curse.
Tang Li stepped closer.
The crying woman turned around.
Wang Cuihua.
But her expression was unfamiliar, her eyes bloodshot and filled with hostility.
“You… who are you? Why are you here?”