Du Xiaoyu stood by the well, silently counting the seconds. He kept a firm grip on the pulley, ready to reel in the rope at the first sign of trouble.
‘Qi Si, you have to make it back,’ he thought frantically. ‘I’ve already pissed off that Shang Qingbei kid. If it’s just the two of us, God knows what he’ll try to pull...’
As he fretted, he estimated that enough time had passed. Without hesitation, he began turning the crank, pulling the rope up coil by coil, all the while murmuring a silent prayer: ‘Please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t let me pull up a corpse or some monster.’
Despite his gnawing anxiety, his hands were steady.
He may not have held a steady job in years, but he’d never missed a single brawl. The weight of one man was enough to make him a little breathless, but it was manageable.
Half a minute passed, and the end of the rope was in sight.
A pair of pale, slender hands gripped the edge of the well. The fingers dug into the stone with such force that the knuckles turned a stark, bloodless white.
For a fleeting moment, Du Xiaoyu had the unnerving impression that the hands were waterlogged and wrinkled, like those of a drowned ghost surfacing from the depths, ready to drag a living soul down to take its place.
The terrifying fantasy lasted only an instant. The next second, a head emerged from the well, and the person below awkwardly used their arms to hoist themselves out. They stumbled to their feet, swaying unsteadily.
The young man who climbed out wore the same black hair and white shirt as before, but his eyes were somehow deeper, the scarlet glow within them completely gone.
Noticing Du Xiaoyu’s stare, the young man pulled a damp, yellowed sheet of scripture paper from his pocket. “I didn’t see Xu Wen, but I found the instance’s rules. Do you want to take a look?”
The fact that he could say “instance” and “rules” was a good sign; it was unlikely he was a ghost.
The two men on the surface breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Shang Qingbei, being the closest, unceremoniously took the paper and began to read. Du Xiaoyu eagerly leaned in beside him.
Written on the scripture paper in neat, block-like script were several lines of text:
[Welcome to Double Happiness Town. Our town has the following rules. Please believe and remember them:]
[1. Ghosts will not attack people who are asleep. Please go to bed as early as possible at night.]
[2. Dreams are dangerous. If you die in a dream, you will truly die. Please do not dream.]
[3. Ghosts will not kill humans without reason. Please believe that you are human.]
[4. Most of the people and ghosts in town are friendly, provided they do not feel they have been offended.]
[5. The Ghost Gate opens at night. Do not go outside. Do not go outside. Do not go outside!]
[6. There is one, and only one, path to leave Double Happiness Town. The other two lead to the Ghost Gate. Do not take them!]
[7. If you must break certain rules in an emergency, ensure you break as few as possible...]
While the two were engrossed in the rules, the young man continued speaking on his own. “Xu Wen went to great lengths to convince me to go down that well, so I thought there must be something important down there. But for some reason, I didn't encounter anything at all.”
“It might just be me. Why don’t you two go down and see if you can trigger something?”
His tone was perfectly calm, as if he were suggesting something entirely reasonable.
Shang Qingbei had no intention of taking him up on the offer. Who knew if “Qi Wen” would have the decency not to cut the rope once he was down there?
He pretended not to have heard, keeping his eyes fixed on the paper as he murmured, “I can’t believe this is a ‘rules of horror’ instance. Having a set of rules makes things much simpler.”
“Are you sure the rules are real?” the young man countered, tilting his head. “The clue on the phone was fake, after all.”
Caught off guard by the challenge, Shang Qingbei was momentarily stunned. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one picking fights and questioning everything?
He forced a tight smile and adjusted his glasses. “I believe these rules have a high degree of authenticity.”
“First, if none of us had been willing to go down the well, we wouldn’t have obtained this clue. It makes no sense for the game to set a trap on a chance event. Second, high risk should yield high reward; that’s a healthy game mechanic. If the game fed us a fake clue after all our effort, it would undermine its own system. Finally, I feel these rules align perfectly with the events we’ve experienced. Logically, I see no contradictions.”
Unaware that the fake clue was born from the malice of a higher power, Shang Qingbei analyzed it purely from a game design perspective, his reasoning sound and convincing.
Du Xiaoyu nodded in agreement. “Yeah, if this clue is fake too, how are we supposed to clear the instance? It can’t be designed to kill us all, maybe just let one survive.”
The young man remained noncommittal. “So, what’s your take on these rules?”
Shang Qingbei began his analysis. “The first two rules seem contradictory, but if you examine the wording carefully, you’ll find the solution.”
“‘Please do not dream’ is a clear directive, but we can’t control whether we dream once we fall asleep. Based on last night, it’s highly likely we’ll enter a dream state. However, ‘falling asleep’ is an instantaneous action. Even if you wake up later, you haven’t violated the rule.”
“The third and fourth rules are vague. We need to figure out what constitutes ‘offending a ghost.’ I’m inclined to think it refers to trespassing on their territory. After all, we were only attacked by the statue ghost after we entered the Joy God Temple.”
He paused, allowing the others a moment to process before continuing. “The last three rules must be considered together. Of the three paths out of town, two lead to the Ghost Gate and one is the true exit. To leave Double Happiness Town, we will have to identify the Ghost Gates at night and find the correct path. This means we will inevitably violate one of the rules.”
“And the seventh rule tells us to break as few rules as possible, which implies that the rules *can* be broken. As long as we all break the same number of rules, we should be fine.”
Having laid out his reasoning, Shang Qingbei slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes sweeping over the two men before him. “Therefore, we need to go out together tonight to explore.”
“Damn, you’re pretty sharp! I didn’t know you had it in you, kid,” Du Xiaoyu said, eager to smooth things over with Shang Qingbei. He didn’t hold back on the praise.
Shang Qingbei offered a slight smile, then turned to the young man standing limply nearby. “Qi, what do you think?”
The young man seemed to snap back to attention, giving a slight nod. “Then let’s go out and have a look tonight.”
Tonight? It was only the second day. Why the rush? Shang Qingbei felt a faint sense of unease but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Still, he was the one who had come up with the solution, so it couldn’t be that far off the mark. And since the start of the instance, “Qi Wen” had always been proactive. Acting immediately after finding a solution seemed consistent with his style.
Shang Qingbei glanced at the listless young man. His shirt was soaked, his face was paler than paper, and he looked as if a strong gust of wind could knock him over.
A rare flicker of sympathy stirred within him. “Qi Wen, your clothes are wet. Aren’t you cold?” The daytime temperature in Double Happiness Town wasn’t low, but it wasn’t warm either. The misty wind carried the chill of late autumn. At night, it would be as cold as winter, a cold that even dry, long-sleeved clothes couldn’t fend off.
“Not cold,” the young man replied, his lips curling into a stiff, yet perfectly standard, smile. “I have another shirt in my backpack. It’s in my room.”
“Then let’s hurry back. Or hey, you can take my jacket,” Du Xiaoyu belatedly realized the young man’s poor condition. He quickly took off his own coat, moving to drape it over his shoulders.
The moment his fingertips brushed against the young man’s icy elbow, the other flinched back as if shocked. He quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping the spot, as though he had touched something filthy.
Du Xiaoyu’s face fell, and a flash of anger crossed his features.
But the young man turned and fixed his eyes on him, adding by way of explanation, “I’m not cold at all.”
How could he not be cold? His elbow was as cold as ice.
Staring into the young man’s eyes, which were as deep and dark as a bottomless pool, Du Xiaoyu sensed that pressing the issue would do him no good. He turned his head away and said nothing more.
The three of them walked back in silence along the path they had come. At some point, the young man had slowed his pace, trailing behind the others like a solitary shadow.
When no one was looking, he lifted the handkerchief covering his elbow.
On his pale arm, a dark, bluish-black burn mark stood out starkly.
On the first day, Xu Sao had told the players: ‘A newly dead ghost can’t become a powerful specter. A living person has the fire of life on their shoulders, and as long as that fire doesn’t go out, it can burn a lesser ghost’s soul to ashes!’
New ghosts feared the warmth of the living. Even an accidental touch could cause harm.
The young man pulled his sleeve down a little further, rubbing his chin as he thought to himself, ‘Looks like I’ll have to find a way to kill them sooner rather than later...’
...
In the town beneath the well, the shrill sound of the suona had finally ceased.
Qi Si was at last free of the old man.
He walked to a spot under the eaves where the ghostly figures were sparse and stood there. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed Xu Wen’s number.
This time, the call connected instantly. Xu Wen’s anxious voice came through the line. “You’re here, right? Don’t wander around. Be careful not to run into those paper figurines... If you see them, run! Otherwise, they’ll stuff you into a coffin!”
Qi Si asked, “Where are you? Where can I find you?”
“I’m in the Mourning God Temple. It’s safe once you’re inside; the paper figurines can’t enter...” Xu Wen said. “But you won’t find it by just running around blindly. It took me a long time to find it, too. Find a place to hide for now, and I’ll come lead you...”
“Will you be safe coming out?” Qi Si held the phone slightly away from his ear and heard the sound of wind that had been masked by her voice.
It wasn't a natural wind; it was too sharp, too urgent. Mixed within it was the rustling of turning pages, a clear premonition of danger.
“I’ll be fine,” Xu Wen said, her tone firm. “I’ve been wandering around here for over a month. I already know how to avoid them.”
Qi Si decided against asking questions like “Why are you only calling now?” or “What have you been eating for the past month?” He knew he was unlikely to get a reasonable answer.
He thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you know how to get out of here?”
He peeked out from under the eaves and saw, through the fog, dozens of suspended shadows. They were roughly human-shaped, but their sleeves and arms fluttered lightly in the wind. These had to be the paper figurines Xu Wen had mentioned.
The figurines were dressed in paper-made ancient costumes. Their deathly-white faces were adorned with blush on the cheeks and a wide, painted-on grin, which gave them a bizarrely comical appearance.
Carried by the wind, they advanced like an ancient military formation, a silent, floating phalanx stretching across the street.
On the phone, Xu Wen was silent for a moment before replying, “I’m not entirely sure, but I found a path. I saw them carrying the coffins in that direction, so if we follow them, we should be able to get out... But I always lose them. I heard you need two people to make it, one to lead and one to follow...”
“Oh,” Qi Si said. He took a step forward, as if to walk directly into the formation of paper figurines.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” a terrified voice shouted from the phone, echoed simultaneously by a woman’s voice right behind him.
A slender but strong hand shot out from behind him, grabbing his arm without warning. “Don’t let them see you. Come with me.”
The texture of the phone in his right hand changed, transforming into a crude paper replica of a mobile phone.
Qi Si turned his head and saw a young woman. She looked to be in her early twenties, with a baby face and long hair, and was wearing a gray down jacket. She was about half a head shorter than him—the same NPC from the photograph, the one who had been holding “his” arm.
It was Xu Wen.
Just as he’d suspected. The moment he showed any intention of getting himself killed, Xu Wen would appear to save him. It seemed he wasn’t allowed to die before he reached the Mourning God Temple...
As for why she didn’t appear from the very beginning, she probably wanted to let him suffer through the crisis for a while first, to induce the “suspension bridge effect”...
The suspension bridge effect, was it?
Qi Si thought of the photograph he had first seen, the one that had triggered his spiritual OCD. A faint smile touched the corners of his lips.
Xu Wen didn’t notice his expression. She expertly pulled him into a nearby house and shut the door behind them. “We’ll wait here until those paper figurines finish their patrol of this street, then we’ll head to the Mourning God Temple.”
“Patrol?” Qi Si raised an eyebrow. “What are those paper figurines patrolling for?”
Xu Wen whispered, “Did you know? They lure girls here, drug them, and then sell them off in coffins. To keep it a secret, they make sure everyone, from birth to death, never reveals it. No one can ever escape...”
“Xu Sao watches over the living, and the paper figurines guard the dead, making sure no one dares to gossip in public. Everyone who knows the secret has to stay, even outsiders...”
Xu Wen lifted her gaze, her eyes fixed on Qi Si. “And I,” she said, her voice dropping, “I know all their secrets.”