Chapter 66: Before Dawn (5)
Tang Cuo’s lack of fear wasn’t out of ignorance. As a true warrior, he didn’t waste time on idle chatter; his objective remained the basement.
In Jin Cheng’s 1926 timeline, the Yu Residence had become a haunted house overrun by ghosts. They roamed the kitchen, the corridors, and everywhere else. Only the area near the telephone could be considered a temporary safe zone. But if someone lingered there too long, the ghosts would eventually attack.
Fortunately, the path from the telephone to the cupboard was clear. The three of them quickly activated the mechanism and entered the basement.
This time, Tang Cuo didn’t use a candlestick, because Jin Cheng took out the glazed lamp he had obtained in the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight instance. The item wasn’t particularly useful—it only provided illumination—but as a mission item, it could be stored in the equipment inventory, making it very convenient to use.
The basement door was still locked. Qi Hui had the keys from the other timeline in his pocket, but Tang Cuo, deep in thought, asked Jin Cheng, “Do you still have the butler’s keys?”
Jin Cheng: “I used three to open the attic. There’s one left.”
Tang Cuo: “Just one?”
Did the clues change because the timeline changed? Tang Cuo pondered this as he stepped aside for Jin Cheng to try the key. Jin Cheng used the only remaining key, but it didn’t open the door.
This meant that in 1926, the key to the basement was no longer on the butler’s keyring.
Without another word, Tang Cuo used his key to unlock the basement. The moment the door opened, Qi Hui was on high alert, but having already opened the basement once, he wasn’t overly terrified.
Yet the scene before him still left him stunned.
Aside from the coffin, there were two corpses lying on the floor in the basement.
Jin Cheng crouched down and rolled over a corpse lying face-down. With just one glance, he identified him. “The butler.” He then looked at the other corpse. “Yu Wangnian.”
Tang Cuo proceeded to open the coffin. His gaze swept over the more desiccated but still recognizable corpse inside, and he said calmly, “Yu Wangyue.”
Qi Hui clicked his tongue. “The whole family was wiped out?”
Tang Cuo turned to Jin Cheng. “Are the bodies of the Madam and the others here?”
Jin Cheng: “Not in the unlocked rooms, at least.”
Tang Cuo nodded and examined the corpses on the floor again. Soon, he frowned and said, “Both of them died recently. They only have minor bruises from bumping into things; no fatal wounds.”
Jin Cheng spread his hands. “Then the ghosts killed them. Madam Lin Wan died harboring grievances, so she wiped out her husband’s entire household. A standard ghost story trope.”
But this wasn’t a standard ghost story.
Just as Tang Cuo was about to speak, he caught a glimpse of a ghostly figure flashing in the corner out of the corner of his eye, and his expression drastically changed. Jin Cheng’s reaction was even faster. He tossed a handful of starlight dust, forcing the ghost back while simultaneously illuminating its face.
“Yu Wangnian.”
Qi Hui jumped in fright and hurriedly hid behind the two big bosses. Tang Cuo swiftly searched the two corpses, shoving whatever he found into his pockets, and then rapidly retreated.
Five minutes later, the three of them were back by the telephone in the living room.
Tang Cuo finally had the time to ask Jin Cheng, “What was that you threw just now?”
Jin Cheng smiled. “Ash from a temple incense burner. It’s not of much use, but it can repel ghosts. However, I only have one pouch of this stuff; once it’s gone, it’s gone. If we want to make it out of here alive, we’ll have to rely on you, my great detective.”
Tang Cuo ignored his flirting and began inspecting their haul. From the butler and Yu Wangnian’s corpses, he had found three items: a key, a gun, and a small, palm-sized, worn booklet.
The key and the gun were from Yu Wangnian. The gun was missing two bullets.
The booklet belonged to the butler. Flipping it open, it recorded precautions for daily tasks. He couldn’t make out anything significant for the moment.
“We need to go to the second floor. Yu Wangnian’s key might open his bedroom or study,” Tang Cuo said. As he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on Jin Cheng.
Jin Cheng crossed his arms. “You really are giving me a tough problem.”
There was only one viable method: Jin Cheng would distract the ghosts on the second floor while Tang Cuo searched for clues. As for Qi Hui, both Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng turned to look at him.
Qi Hui suddenly shivered, feeling terrified by the big bosses’ tacit understanding.
Tang Cuo: “You stay by the phone and keep dialing until it connects.”
Qi Hui didn’t want to be alone, but he glanced at the pitch-black second floor, thought of that terrifying female ghost, and then thought of Zhou Dahai. Ultimately, he agreed to the plan.
“But if the call connects, what should I say?”
Without hesitation, Tang Cuo replied, “Just say Jin Cheng is dead.”
Jin Cheng: “???”
Tang Cuo tilted his head to look at him, saying nothing.
Jin Cheng: “Aren’t you going to explain?”
Tang Cuo retorted, “Can’t you see my face right now?”
I am explaining, with my extremely righteous and handsome face.
Jin Cheng laughed out of sheer exasperation. He raised a hand and rubbed Tang Cuo’s head vigorously, as if determined to mess up his hair. Tang Cuo swayed from the force, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye—Is there something wrong with you? You’re so childish.
Qi Hui quickly tried to mediate. “Don’t fight, you two! Let’s talk this out, talk this out.”
Jin Cheng shot him a glare sharper than a knife. “Are we fighting?”
Qi Hui: “Are you not???”
Jin Cheng absolutely refused to speak with someone so incredibly unperceptive. He grabbed Tang Cuo’s wrist and dragged him away. “You, come here.”
Tang Cuo remained expressionless but didn’t resist in the slightest.
Qi Hui grew even more worried they might break into a fight, but he truly didn’t dare mediate anymore.
Stepping onto the pitch-black staircase leading to the second floor, Jin Cheng released Tang Cuo’s hand. He actually wanted to hold it a little longer, but that wasn’t conducive to fighting.
Tang Cuo had already drawn the Sword of Judgment.
“Do you want to trick the remaining two players?” Jin Cheng asked.
“Blowing up fish in a pond, isn’t that your specialty?” As they spoke, the two had already reached the final step of the second floor. In the pitch-black corridor, chilling winds blew and ghostly energy permeated the air. The faint sound of a woman crying drifted from ahead.
Jin Cheng lowered his voice. “These ghosts have different levels of aggression. The Madam is a malicious spirit; anyone stepping into her territory will definitely be attacked, and her power is the strongest. The others are mostly minor ghosts and can be handled. The dismembered ghost in the bathroom falls somewhere in between, but his aggression isn’t as strong as the Madam’s. Also, the ghosts on the first floor won’t come up to the second floor; they are afraid of the Madam.”
These were conclusions Jin Cheng had drawn from numerous combat encounters over the past two hours, and Tang Cuo memorized them one by one.
The two hugged the wall as they moved. Since both had received professional training, their footsteps were practically silent, and even their breathing was adjusted to be inaudible. The entire house was suddenly filled only with the ghost’s self-pitying cries and the sounds of Qi Hui dialing the telephone in the first-floor hall.
Qi Hui was extremely nervous. He saw a ghost floating around inside the kitchen door, Yu Wangnian was in the basement, and ghosts could appear in the corridor or on the ceiling at any moment.
Pop! Another bulb in the chandelier above burst, leaving only three flickering on and off.
Up on the second floor, Tang Cuo had already started trying the first door. His movements were incredibly light yet fast; if one didn’t work, he moved on to the next without hesitation.
Jin Cheng guarded his side. In the darkness, their limbs occasionally brushed against each other—like tiny sparks flying in a world of ice and snow, carrying a scorching heat.
But now wasn’t the time for idle thoughts.
Jin Cheng listened carefully to the female ghost’s whimpering. Suddenly, he pulled out his small lap harp, raised his hand, and played a segment of Requiem. He only had half a pouch of incense ash left; he needed to conserve it.
Simultaneously, Tang Cuo’s unlocking speed abruptly increased. He rushed to the next door, accurately inserting the key into the keyhole—click—it worked!
This was a study.
Without breaking stride, Tang Cuo took a quick glance and headed straight for the desk. Flipping through books, opening drawers, searching for hidden compartments—all his movements flowed smoothly, fast and steady.
A fight had already broken out in the corridor.
Tang Cuo had no time to look up. Catching sight of a cloth bag in the corner out of the corner of his eye, he immediately swept everything he deemed useful into it. Right at that moment, he spotted the first photograph he had seen since entering the Yu Residence.
It was an old black-and-white photograph, a bit blurry, but it was clearly a family portrait of four. The picture was taken on the lawn outside the mansion. Yu Wangnian and his wife Lin Wan were sitting together; Lin Wan held a cute little girl with a sweet smile in her arms, while the gentle and elegant Yu Wangyue stood behind Yu Wangnian.
Tang Cuo pulled the photograph from the frame and saw the date written on the back: January 3, 1923.
Judging by the photo, in early 1923, this family still appeared to be living in joy and harmony.
Tucking the photo away, Tang Cuo turned his attention to a small door deep within the study. The small door led to another room. Tang Cuo examined the keyhole carefully and had a flash of inspiration.
He sprinted back to the study door. “Keys!”
Catching on, Jin Cheng unleashed a sonic attack to force the female ghost back, turned, and tossed the entire butler’s keyring. Tang Cuo caught it steadily, hurried back to the small door, and successfully unlocked it.
Inside was a small bedroom. It wasn’t hard to tell this was where Yu Wangnian usually slept. The color scheme was dark, completely devoid of decoration, revealing the owner’s rigidity and strictness.
Clink. Tang Cuo kicked something. Looking down, he discovered it was a key.
The key to the basement.
This instance was becoming increasingly interesting. The key to the basement was in the small room connected to the study. Although the key to the small room was on the butler’s keyring, one had to enter the study to open the small room—yet the key to the study was in the basement.
If Tang Cuo hadn’t brought the basement key from another timeline, this would be an unsolvable loop.
No wonder teams entering this instance kept getting wiped out one after another.
Time was tight; Tang Cuo couldn’t afford to dwell on it. He quickly began searching for clues. Walking around the bed in the bedroom, he discovered a corpse—the corpse of the maid. She was wearing a high-slit qipao with the top frog button undone, looking as though she had dressed up carefully, and she even had rouge on her lips. She was clutching her chest, her eyes wide open, as if she hadn’t expected her end right up until her death.
Her cause of death was a bullet to the chest; a fatal one-shot kill.
Tang Cuo thought of Yu Wangnian’s gun, missing two bullets, and then remembered the old fountain pen hidden in the maid’s room. The fragmented, chaotic clues began to link together, revealing a corner of the story.
There were very few items in the bedroom. Tang Cuo quickly retraced his steps, carrying the cloth bag back into the corridor.
Jin Cheng had once again lured the female ghost into fighting the dismembered ghost, perfectly replicating his previous strategy. Although the process wasn’t as smooth as last time, he at least managed to pin both ghosts down at the far end of the corridor, away from Tang Cuo.
Tang Cuo took a quick glance, assessing the situation, and then charged decisively toward Yu Wangyue’s room. Before coming to 1926, he had already obtained the key to this room and encountered Yu Wangyue’s ghost inside.
The moment the door opened, Tang Cuo had his second encounter with him.
Yu Wangyue sat by the window, his expression vacant and plain. He looked back again, his movements still slow, his expression entirely devoid of ripples.
“Yu Wangyue?” Tang Cuo tried speaking to him, but Yu Wangyue was like a gourd with a sawed-off mouth—he neither initiated attacks nor showed any interest in communicating.
Tang Cuo simply ignored him and proceeded to search the room.
Having finally managed to temporarily force the two ghosts back, Jin Cheng caught his breath and poked his head in to check the situation, only to see the man and the ghost occupying opposite sides of the room, distinct yet living in harmony.
Are you two making friends in there? Jin Cheng thought to himself, I’ve been out here fighting ghosts for three hundred rounds straight since the instance started, and you’re in here experiencing peace, love, and harmony?
My forehead is turning black with bad luck, and my head feels a bit green.
Tang Cuo explained, “If you don’t believe me, hit him. He won’t fight back.”
Jin Cheng: “…”
Tang Cuo added, “Have you noticed the Madam has stopped attacking you too?”
Jin Cheng: “…………”
He looked back. It was true.
The pitch-black corridor had returned to peace once more. The dismembered ghost, terrified by the female ghost’s beating, had temporarily retreated into the bathroom. The female ghost looked at Jin Cheng standing in the doorway of Yu Wangyue’s room from afar, yet made no move to approach.
Boundless resentment surged like the tide, rising and falling, leaving behind a profound sorrow. With that sorrowful, indescribable expression, she gazed toward them before turning and vanishing into the wall.
There really was something going on between Madam Lin Wan and Yu Wangyue.
Just as Jin Cheng was thinking this, Qi Hui’s joyous shout suddenly drifted up from downstairs. “It connected! It connected! Dahai, is that you? It’s Qi Hui!”
Qi Hui yelled this loudly specifically to notify the two upstairs. Jin Cheng turned and exchanged a glance with Tang Cuo, and the two quickly headed downstairs.
“Don’t panic yet. What exactly is going on on your end?” Qi Hui asked, comforting Zhou Dahai while enthusiastically winking at Tang Cuo.
Tang Cuo didn’t speak. He pulled out the diary he found in the study and used the maid’s old fountain pen to write down a question for Qi Hui to see.
Catching on, Qi Hui made an “OK” gesture and asked into the phone, “Are you the only one there? I’m all alone on my end now too. That Tang Cuo guy suddenly disappeared, scared me half to death!”
Not suspecting a thing, Zhou Dahai asked nervously, “Then what do we do now?”
Qi Hui: “We can only rely on ourselves for now. Dahai, let me ask you, did the Yu Wangyue you saw in the basement look like he just died? Did you find out who the murderer is?”
Zhou Dahai: “How would I know who the murderer is? But he does look like he just died. Are you okay on your end? I noticed that Yu Wangyue’s ghost doesn’t seem to actively attack me. I’m hiding by the telephone right now, safe for the moment.”
Qi Hui: “What time is it on your end? What year? What time of night?”
Zhou Dahai: “I saw the newspaper on the table. December 25, 1923. It’s past 9:00 PM right now. But what’s written in the newspaper seems wrong! Didn’t Yu Wangyue die? The newspaper says he went abroad to study!”
His robust voice blared from the earpiece. Hearing this, Tang Cuo finally pinpointed the timelines of the three different spaces.
Zhou Dahai: December 25, 1923. Yu Wangyue is dead.
Him and Qi Hui: 1924. The bathroom dismemberment case.
Jin Cheng: 1926. The Yu Residence massacre.
A murder occurred in each of the three different time periods. Notably, based on the tally marks under the attic bed, the time of Yu Wangyue’s death might perfectly align with the duration the attic occupant had been imprisoned.
