Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 341: How strange! Take another look.
As soon as the words fell, Wen Jianyan felt the arm around his waist tighten slightly, as if unwilling to let him leave.
His thin clothes had yet to dry and clung tightly to his skin, molding seamlessly to the contours of his back from his shoulder blades down to his waist. There was almost no separation between them.
He could even feel the firm rise and fall of the other person’s chest and abdomen, as well as the curve of muscles tensing when the arm tightened.
“……”
His face stiffened, and he unconsciously tensed his body.
Sensing the rigidity of the young man in his arms, Wu Zhu slightly tilted his head. His cool nose tip brushed against Wen Jianyan’s earlobe, just barely touching.
“What’s wrong?”
Blond, who had been watching Wen Jianyan closely, asked nervously.
For some reason, after saying, “We should leave as soon as possible,” their captain’s already slightly unnatural expression had turned even stranger. Had he noticed something unusual?
After all, as time passed, the abnormalities in the corridor were becoming increasingly apparent—almost impossible to ignore.
Under the weight of numerous gazes, Wen Jianyan suppressed the slight distortion in his expression and forced a smile.
“…It’s nothing.”
Then, he changed the subject: “You’ve all seen that painting, right?”
Everyone nodded.
“Then let’s go.” Wen Jianyan turned around.
Taking advantage of the visual blind spot created by his movement, he pressed his hand against Wu Zhu’s arm and viciously pinched—
Let go!!
It seemed Wu Zhu realized that since Wen Jianyan was about to start moving, they could no longer maintain their previous close embrace. Only then did he reluctantly loosen his grip around Wen Jianyan’s waist.
However, before Wen Jianyan could even breathe a sigh of relief, he felt his hand—hanging loosely by his side—being caught.
Wen Jianyan: “……”
Cool, slender fingers forcefully intertwined with his, locking their hands together with no space in between. If the last time had been unintentional, then this time was clearly deliberate.
Wu Zhu had apparently mastered the essence of interlocking fingers all on his own.
“……”
Wen Jianyan glanced sideways, his expression blank.
Wu Zhu remained as impassive as ever, not sparing Wen Jianyan a glance. Instead, he stared straight ahead, completely focused, yet somehow…
Pretentious.
“…………”
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and withdrew his gaze, exhausted.
Fine.
Compared to the full-body embrace earlier, this was just hand-holding. As long as it didn’t interfere with his actions, he would let it be.
—
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room.
[……]
[……]
[I’m starting to have doubts. What exactly are we watching?]
[I had to double-check the title—is this really a horror instance?]
[What the hell, this is so weird! Why is the atmosphere between the system bug and the anchor who’s supposed to eliminate it this strange?! Why are they holding hands?! Interlocking fingers, even! Is this really appropriate for our platform?!]
[AND WHY DID THE ANCHOR JUST GO ALONG WITH IT? WHY?!]
—
As time passed, the air grew even colder. The ghostly aura in the pitch-black corridor thickened, sending shivers through anyone present. Simply remaining there made one’s heart pound uncontrollably with fear, urging them to flee.
“Crack.”
A faint sound of glass shattering echoed in the darkness.
The figures in the paintings became more active, and human-like shadows began to emerge.
Just then, a familiar mechanical system voice chimed in:
[Ding! Plot Deviation: 15 | Reward Points: 100,000]
Wen Jianyan’s heart skipped a beat.
Although he wasn’t entirely sure what had caused the plot deviation, he could make an educated guess.
The appearance of the Evil God’s fragment, the breaking of the corridor’s barriers, and the corridor’s gradual distortion—any of these could have contributed.
It seemed that, unlike the “Changsheng Building,” this instance didn’t have strict plot deviation restrictions. Instead, it functioned more like other standard instances, where deviations could accumulate gradually. And…
The point rewards were insanely generous.
Wen Jianyan quickly refocused his thoughts and picked up his pace again.
The team hurried down the corridor, their steps swift, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the increasingly eerie and perilous hallway.
Before long, the tightly shut doors of the framing shop appeared ahead.
Just as he was about to step out of the corridor, Wen Jianyan hesitated for a moment.
An uncontrollable urge made him glance back.
The vast corridor behind him stretched into a bottomless abyss, black as ink, resembling a gaping void—one that, once entered, would never let anyone return.
Wen Jianyan pressed his lips together, a flicker of light passing through his eyes.
He understood that while they had to leave, it didn’t mean all the mysteries within this corridor had been unraveled.
Though he had deduced the corridor’s general nature and the possible function of the paintings hanging on its walls, one question remained: Why were these paintings displayed here in the first place?
And if the figures in those deep crimson frames were truly under some kind of protection…
Why had the townspeople ended up like this?
The image of those pale faces, their blurred features twisted into exaggerated smiles, flashed through Wen Jianyan’s mind.
A shudder ran down his spine.
More importantly…
Why were the Gentlemen so determined to have his portrait hung among them?
He vaguely realized that he had now grasped some key clues about this instance and even the hidden truth behind the Nightmare. However, many large gaps still remain in connecting these clues into a complete logical chain.
Wen Jianyan subconsciously lowered his hand, wanting to reach into his pocket, but quickly restrained himself.
Although he really wanted to search for clues, reason told him that he had to leave now.
This corridor was no longer safe—they had to get out as soon as possible.
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and withdrew his gaze.
Beside him, Bai Xue watched Wen Jianyan thoughtfully, an unreadable expression on his face.
Soon, the group returned to the entrance of the framing shop.
Before pushing the door open, Yun Bilan turned to look at Wen Jianyan, her eyes flickering beneath the mask as she spoke in a muffled voice:
“Are you really okay?”
The road outside the framing shop was a place humans could not set foot on. Without the disguise of a “ghost,” they would be discovered by the wandering corpses on the street. Wen Jianyan had given his mask to Yun Bilan, leaving himself with only a spare human-skin coat. However, without a mask, the coat could only serve as rain protection—it would not allow other corpses to mistake him as one of their own.
Wen Jianyan squinted and smiled.
“Of course.”
He seemed to have been prepared for this.
Yun Bilan took a deep breath, raised her hand, and pushed open the door.
With a creaking sound, the crooked wooden door swung open before them, revealing the gloomy, rain-shrouded street outside. Stiff corpses wandered aimlessly along the road, drifting downward with the flow of the street.
The group adjusted their “gear,” exchanged glances, and stepped onto the street.
Meanwhile, Wen Jianyan opened his backpack and took out an item.
[Bride’s Red Veil]
Effect: When the red veil covers the wearer’s facial features, it grants them three minutes of a non-human identity. (Note: This effect only applies to non-anchor entities within the instance.)
Uses: One
He activated and used the item.
A bright red veil embroidered with the “double happiness” symbol appeared in Wen Jianyan’s hands.
Blond was startled. “This is…?”
Wen Jianyan briefly introduced, “An item that makes ghosts mistake me as one of them.”
“Keep an eye on the corpses’ reactions for me.”
He gave the instruction.
After speaking, Wen Jianyan let out a shallow breath, placed the red veil over his face, and stepped out of the mounting shop.
Blond anxiously observed the wandering corpses on the street.
Their heads did not turn in response to Wen Jianyan’s movement—it was as if they hadn’t noticed a “human” entering the street at all.
Blond let out a sigh of relief and whispered to Wen Jianyan:
“No reaction.”
Wen Jianyan wasn’t surprised.
After all, he had obtained this item from within a painting on the third floor of the “Changsheng Building” instance, where it had already been proven effective. Since this instance was closely tied to the Changsheng Building, it should work here as well.
His voice came from beneath the veil:
“This item has a short duration—we need to move quickly.”
With that, Wen Jianyan took quick steps forward.
Blond nodded.
At that moment, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He hurried a few steps forward, asking worriedly, “But… won’t you have trouble seeing the road? Do you need to hold onto me while we run?”
After all, Wen Jianyan’s face was completely covered by the veil, making it nearly impossible to see the road ahead. The path was uneven, and many corpses wandered about. Moving quickly under such conditions could easily lead to an accident.
The moment Blond mentioned “holding onto” him, Wen Jianyan distinctly felt the cold hand gripping his right hand tighten abruptly—like a wild animal whose territory had been invaded, carrying a tense, dangerous aura.
He quickly said, “No need!”
Blond: “?”
He had no idea why Wen Jianyan’s tone suddenly became so urgent.
Wen Jianyan gently squeezed Wu Zhu’s fingers, trying to soothe him, and spoke in a calm voice:
“I can see outside from within this item; don’t worry about me. Just run—I’ll follow behind you.”
“…Oh, okay.”
Blond nodded, no longer insisting. He picked up his pace and ran forward.
Wen Jianyan let out a breath of relief.
He suddenly tugged Wu Zhu forward and, taking advantage of the sound of the rain, lowered his voice and gritted his teeth:
“You scared off my crutch—so now you have to take responsibility, got it?”
Of course, he had lied to Blond.
Underneath the red veil, everything was a hazy red blur—he couldn’t see anything at all. At most, he could catch a glimpse of the wet ground below. With such a limited field of vision, navigating a complex street at high speed was nearly impossible.
“Mm.”
A low male voice sounded right beside his ear.
Though it was only a single syllable, Wen Jianyan clearly caught the unhidden note of amusement in it.
“…”
Oh, so now you suddenly understand everything perfectly, huh?
Underneath the veil, Wen Jianyan rolled his eyes hard.
The group sprinted through the rain-drenched, shadowy street, carefully avoiding the wandering corpses around them. Bound by the instance’s rules, they didn’t dare to glance in any direction outside the road as they charged forward.
Out of everyone’s sight, the young man with the red veil covering his head ran at the back. One of his hands reached slightly forward, fingers curled loosely, as if firmly holding onto someone else’s hand.
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room.
[……]
[Not only is he wearing a red veil, but he’s also holding hands… Uh… Am I the only one who finds this scene weird?]
[I double-checked the stream’s title multiple times. Yep, it’s definitely a horror instance…]
[But why does this stream’s atmosphere feel so damn gay?! I can’t take this! I came here for blood and screams, not this!]
[Why do I feel like I just shipped an unexpected CP…?]
[So weird… I’ll look again.]
[Y’all need to stop overreacting. It’s perfectly normal! The anchor is obviously exploiting a loophole! Whether it was using that guy to escape the hallway earlier or avoiding obstacles now, it’s all about getting an advantage. That’s why he hasn’t gotten rid of him yet. It’s just acting! Once the danger is gone, he’ll definitely turn on him!]
[Exactly! Don’t let the superficial gay vibes fool you. The anchor is clearly the type to use anything and anyone to clear the instance. Stop shipping them; this CP is obviously fake!]
[But am I the only one who noticed…? The anchor is running without the slightest hesitation. It’s almost like his eyes aren’t covered. If he didn’t subconsciously trust the person pulling him forward, would he really run so blindly?]
“We’re almost there!”
Through the rain, Chen Mo shouted from the front, “Pick up the pace!”
In the distance, they could faintly see the mask shop.
Once they passed it, in theory, they would leave this ghost street and enter a normal road.
Under the slightly swaying red veil, Wen Jianyan panted heavily, sprinting forward despite his impaired vision.
The rain-soaked fabric clung heavily to his face, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose, making it almost impossible to breathe.
In a world of endless red, he instinctively tightened his grip on the only thing that felt real—the hand in front of him. He glanced at the countdown timer.
[00:25]
Fifteen seconds left.
Chen Mo was an ordinary human with limited vision in the rain. If he said they were close, then the remaining distance should be short.
Fifteen seconds—more than enough.
Wen Jianyan sped up again.
Suddenly, a corpse that had been standing motionless on the street unexpectedly took a step sideways— right into Wen Jianyan’s path.
“!?”
Caught completely off guard, Wen Jianyan’s pupils shrank, and he nearly stumbled.
His heart pounded violently as he struggled to regain his balance.
Though he managed not to fall, the rain-soaked red veil slipped askew, revealing his pale jaw.
The countdown abruptly froze.
In that instant, Wen Jianyan realized—
The prop’s condition required his facial features to be covered!
Before he could react, a shadow loomed over him—
A cold, soft sensation pressed against his lips, rainwater seeping between them, cool and damp.
[00:24]
The countdown resumed.
The human skin coat on his body quieted down again, the constriction loosening, no longer restricting his movements.
Wen Jianyan steadied himself, immediately raising his hand to straighten the red bridal veil. Before the other person pulled away, he ensured that his chin was fully covered once again.
Finally, the group burst out of the danger zone and returned to the mask shop where they had started.
The cramped, dark shop echoed with the group’s heavy breathing.
Everyone was soaked to the bone, looking utterly disheveled.
Wen Jianyan lifted his hand and grasped the red bridal veil over his head. It had completely lost its effect, turning transparent and gradually fading from his palm.
“Time, the time—”
As soon as he spoke, Wen Jianyan realized how hoarse his voice had become.
He cleared his throat and asked, “How much time is left?”
Chen Mo pulled a pocket watch from his pocket, glanced at it, and replied in a slightly breathless voice, “Just about exactly.”
On the surface of the pocket watch, the hands had aligned precisely at the boundary between black and white.
In other words, the Xingwang Hotel should have plunged into darkness again, entering an all-night blackout phase. During this time, they could once again traverse between the two worlds and return to the relative safety of the hotel rooms.
Wen Jianyan wiped his face and turned to look at the street behind them.
Outside the door, the wet street remained the same, but all the corpses had vanished. Looking further, the road no longer seemed endlessly deep and dark—only an ordinary, deserted street remained, identical to before.
It seemed his earlier guess was correct.
When the passage between the two worlds reopened, that eerie street would disappear. If they hadn’t left before it vanished, they might have been trapped there all night.
If they had really been stuck in that terrifying corridor… Wen Jianyan truly doubted whether they could have survived the next eleven hours intact.
His body relaxed slightly, and he let out a long sigh of relief.
Then, he met Wu Zhu’s eyes.
Those golden eyes, emotionless and unreadable, flickered in the darkness, fixed unblinkingly on him.
“!”
Wen Jianyan’s heart skipped a beat.
He didn’t know if it was just his imagination, but the touch he had ignored earlier seemed to become clearer—cold and soft, lingering on his lips, feeling incredibly strange.
Under Wen Jianyan’s silent gaze, Wu Zhu appeared to ponder something. Then, he lowered his head once more and placed another kiss on Wen Jianyan’s lips.
Wen Jianyan: “……”
Was that what I meant?
But the moment Wu Zhu pulled away, his figure abruptly turned transparent. Like mist dissolving under sunlight, like a shattered reflection in water, Wu Zhu disappeared before Wen Jianyan’s eyes.
Startled, Wen Jianyan instinctively called out, “Hey—”
Before he could finish, the words stuck in his throat.
Chen Mo turned his head at the sound. “Hmm? What?”
“……”
Wen Jianyan stared blankly at the empty air in front of him.
Then, he turned to Chen Mo and said, “Nothing. We should head back to the hotel now.”
A dim light flickered at the end of the pitch-black corridor.
A shadowy figure stood beneath the lamp, silently watching them.
“Thump, thump, thump.”
Slow, heavy footsteps approached.
Under the faint light, they finally saw clearly—it was the hotel staff member who had greeted them at the beginning of the instance, pushing a cart.
“Good evening, everyone.”
The man, still clad in a neat suit, his eyes hollow and black, his mouth curved into an unnaturally high grin, stood in the now-dark corridor, making everyone’s hearts pound with fear.
“Congratulations on passing the trainee assessment and officially becoming part of our family.”
Slightly stepping aside, he revealed his pale, stiff face under the flickering light and said:
“Please follow me.”
Pls I’m dying, wu zhu is so funny here
Miss our husband already. Too short 🙁
Awww, I was hoping he’d be around longer. Thank you for the chapter!