Back at the familiar Jin Ji’s Rice Shop, Zhou Qi’an temporarily stashed the urns in the most inconspicuous corner of the cabinet, planning to retrieve them once the instance was over.
There was still some time before dawn. Zhou Qi’an looked at the two people behind him and said, “We’ll take turns keeping watch.”
With the amount of energy they had burned through tonight, if they didn’t get at least a little sleep, they might drop dead from exhaustion before the ghosts could even eat them.
Mu Tianbai had no objections and said coolly, “I’ll take the first shift.”
Zhou Qi’an shook his head. “I need to clean up the shop anyway. I’ll keep watch first.”
The college student volunteered, “I’ll do it instead.”
Zhou Qi’an and Mu Tianbai spoke in unison, “Alright, you do it.”
“……”
Zhou Qi’an naturally shoved the broom into the college student’s hands. “First lesson about society—never engage in unnecessary politeness with your coworkers.”
Seeing Zhou Qi’an leaning against a pillar near the fire extinguisher, the college student quickly said, “I’ll do it, just… please stay calm.”
Please don’t set the building on fire just to get out of cleaning.
Hearing that, Mu Tianbai gave Zhou Qi’an a long, meaningful look.
Zhou Qi’an: “……”
I’ve done so many things, and the only thing you remember is arson?!
The floor tiles were ice-cold. Apart from the lingering yin energy inside the building, the night wind from outside seeped in through every crevice. Zhou Qi’an unconsciously furrowed his brows and turned his head to the side.
His sleeping face looked utterly harmless—head tilted slightly upward as he breathed, fair complexion framed by black-rimmed glasses, carrying a youthful innocence reminiscent of his school days.
The college student silently swept the floor.
As he turned to gather the trash, Mu Tianbai’s eyes suddenly snapped open, staring at the tiles.
A shadow slithered along the aged ceramic floor, silently moving toward Zhou Qi’an. It took a jacket it had stolen from a clothing store and carefully draped it over him, then pointed to its own chest.
Mu Tianbai immediately understood what had drawn the shadow’s attention.
There was something inside this man—something so strange that it was even more alluring than a holy artifact.
But with how harmlessly he slept, was he just baiting them into action?
For some reason, Mu Tianbai had the distinct feeling that he had fallen for this kind of bait far too many times already.
In the end, he dismissed his initial thoughts of killing and looting and closed his eyes to rest.
Not long after Mu Tianbai drifted off, Zhou Qi’an’s hand shifted slightly. Without making a sound, he reached back and touched the tiles where the shadow had moved, deep in thought.
What kind of eerie ability is this… it can control shadows?
Adjusting his sleeping posture slightly, this time, he truly fell asleep.
In reality, Zhou Qi’an wasn’t as fearless as he appeared. As he slept, he started breathing more and more erratically, as if trapped in a nightmare.
—In his dream.
Zhou Qi’an had successfully cleared the instance. Nearly a week had passed in the outside world.
His boss stood before him, looking down at him from above, eyes bloodshot. That red tie around his neck was even more vivid than the bloody flesh of the old hag.
“Where’s the proposal?”
“I’m asking you—where’s the project proposal you were supposed to submit before the team-building event ended?!”
As always, his boss’s meticulously groomed hair was slicked back, revealing a pristine forehead, and his words carried a crushing pressure. However, when Zhou Qi’an shook his head, admitting that he hadn’t completed it, the elite businessman’s body visibly dissolved into a sea of blood, pouring down over him in torrents.
“NO!” Zhou Qi’an jolted awake in a panic.
He was drenched in cold sweat, feeling worse than when he had been sliced up piece by piece in the barber shop.
“…Amen.”
Please, let my dreams be free of my boss.
Across from him, both Mu Tianbai and the college student—who had been keeping watch—stared in silent disbelief as Zhou Qi’an solemnly made the sign of the cross over his chest.
“……”
You actually have faith?
Under their indescribable gazes, Zhou Qi’an muttered, “Dreams are the opposite of reality.”
Repeating that thought 10,086 times in his heart, he looked up at Mu Tianbai and asked, “Where’s the clue?”
Mu Tianbai took out the old photograph.
Taking advantage of the fact that his energy had somewhat recovered after waking up, Zhou Qi’an began carefully analyzing the clues.
He never let people work for nothing, so he called the college student, who was sweeping the floor, over to join him.
It was an old photograph, exuding a strong sense of time. The image was in black and white, showing several rows of people—men, women, young, and old—all smiling brightly.
Zhou Qi’an commented, “At this moment, their smiles were all genuine.”
The college student was curious. “How can you tell?”
Zhou Qi’an tapped his finger on the background, where a large character for ‘demolition’ (拆) was painted on the village wall. He answered seriously, “Demolition. Happiness.”
“……”
The college student wanted to argue that happiness isn’t just about money, but when he saw the cold look in Zhou Qi’an’s eyes, he swallowed his words.
At the center of the photo stood a girl with two braids, smiling sweetly. A large red flower was pinned to her chest, and she held up a college acceptance letter with both hands.
A remote village, catching the opportunity for demolition, and even producing a college student—these were two extremely rare and significant events in that era.
Apart from that, there were also some familiar faces. For example, the long-haired woman who tricked them into the dance studio stood right next to the girl, the two appearing to be very close friends.
Zhou Qi’an’s gaze fixed on the conjoined old woman in the photograph. But in this picture, they were clearly two separate individuals—twin sisters, not conjoined at all. It was only later that they seemed to have been forcibly stitched together.
“Serves them right.” He thought expressionlessly.
Zhou Qi’an had never felt the slightest sympathy for monsters that wanted to kill him.
The six-armed monster passenger in the bus was also completely normal in this photo.
Mu Tianbai pointed at the middle-aged man standing beside the girl. “Jin Furen.”
A worn newspaper appeared in his hands—a clue obtained when the shadow completed a side quest.
But the moment he took it out, Mu Tianbai suddenly had the feeling that he had fallen into a trap.
If his guess was right, the man in front of him had deliberately handed over the old photograph with a casual attitude, knowing full well that someone like Mu Tianbai, if he had additional clues, would definitely bring them out too.
—Zhou Qi’an had planned this all along.
The more generous he acted, the more smoothly Mu Tianbai would offer up evidence in return.
All strong people have a subconscious habit of flexing.
A furry head suddenly leaned in close. Mu Tianbai rarely interacted with people at such a short distance, so he stiffened slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable.
Zhou Qi’an, completely oblivious to this, lowered his head and read the newspaper:
[Jin Furen—The Rise and Fall of a Business Empire]
“Seizing the opportunities of the era, Jin Furen, from the remote Jin Family Village, successfully established the country’s first well-known health supplement company… However, due to years of gambling addiction and reckless investments, the company’s financial situation deteriorated…”
“…A year ago, Jin Furen boldly declared that his new real estate investment, Jinxiang Tower, would become a landmark of Y City. He personally planned to establish his office on the top floor to overlook the city. Now, deep in debt, whether Jinxiang Tower can be completed as promised has become a major topic of interest in the industry.”
“Our newspaper will continue to follow up on this story.”
The college student instinctively said, “But the tower was built in the end.”
“Of course. When the money’s in place, everything can be arranged.” Zhou Qi’an mused. “I’m guessing Jin Furen first convinced his fellow villagers that if they invested, they wouldn’t just get double the interest, but also a free shop space, plus year-end dividends and all that.”
With just a few words, he made a bold yet reasonable deduction, as if he were truly experiencing that era firsthand.
“Jinxiang Tower had trouble securing financing, so there must’ve been very few buyers willing to purchase commercial spaces. Even if the building was forced to completion, it would’ve been useless if no businesses moved in. These villagers had both money and manpower, making them the perfect solution to fill the gap.”
Judging by the photo, Jin Family Village wasn’t very large, meaning their land was limited, and the compensation from the demolition wouldn’t have been that high.
Moreover, people in that era had a different mindset about labor—they weren’t the type to live off their savings without working.
The college student was skeptical. “Would the villagers actually believe him?”
“Of course.”
Jin Furen had once been wildly successful. After returning to his hometown in glory, seeing how much money he made, the villagers had no reason to doubt him.
Zhou Qi’an’s gaze sharpened. “We have to check the 18th floor.”
The 18th floor was the top floor.
The interview had mentioned that Jin Furen wanted to set up his office there. That meant something crucial must be hidden there—perhaps even Jin Furen himself.
Otherwise, why would the female ghost specifically ask them to destroy a protective charm?
Mu Tianbai said, “We’ll go in the morning.”
Zhou Qi’an put away the photo, agreeing with the decision.
The 18th floor… Just hearing the number didn’t feel like a good omen.
There were too many unknown dangers at night.
Next, it was Mu Tianbai’s turn to keep watch, while Zhou Qi’an took the last shift.
As time passed, in the latter half of the night, Zhou Qi’an crouched like a cat by the wooden-slatted, sealed-up window. It wasn’t until the sky outside began to lighten slightly that he woke the other two.
Even during the daytime, without the mall’s lights on, the interior remained dim.
Mu Tianbai opened his eyes. His light-colored pupils seemed to carry an inherent, icy malice toward all things. When their gazes met, Zhou Qi’an realized he was looking at something behind him.
“What’s going on?”
A furious voice came rushing in before the sound of hurried footsteps—it was the rice shop owner.
Back at the elevator, he had already noticed that several jars were missing. His narrow eyes were practically shooting sparks as he strode over in large steps. His pale face flushed slightly with anger. “You—”
Just as he was about to strangle Zhou Qi’an, he caught sight of the open rice sack—filled to the brim with bone rice.
“I made a trade,” Zhou Qi’an said. “A few jars in exchange for rice. It’s a great deal.”
Every product had its value, both in quantity and quality.
This bone rice had been personally handed to him by the female ghost. It carried a heavy yin energy, far superior to the ‘old rice’ from before.
In just half a minute, the rice shop owner experienced a rollercoaster of emotions. His expression changed so fast it was like flipping through a photo album.
He didn’t bother explaining his earlier outburst, nor did he apologize. Instead, he waved impatiently. “Alright, as long as the goods are fine. You’re off night duty now. Be sure to come back by 5 PM for the shift change.”
In other words—free time.
Zhou Qi’an stretched his limbs slightly and glanced at the college student, signaling him to follow.
According to the directory signs, the staff cafeteria was on the eighth floor.
Last night, the college student had tried several times to change his clothes, but the white dress seemed to be welded to his skin—it wouldn’t come off at all. A few times, he got desperate and forcefully pulled at it, only to hear the chilling sound of his own flesh peeling away, which completely stopped him from trying again.
He followed Zhou Qi’an into the elevator, looking utterly defeated. His stomach wouldn’t stop growling.
“S-Sorry, I’m just really hungry,” the college student said awkwardly. “Brother Zhou, aren’t you hungry?”
Mu Tianbai remarked, “He ate plenty of offerings last night.”
“……”
The eighth floor was originally a food court, but a section had later been converted into the staff cafeteria.
The cafeteria was located deep inside. Under the dim yellow lighting, a transparent glass partition revealed a chef cooking wontons.
The sight of bright red meat filling nearly made the college student gag.
Zhou Qi’an said calmly, “What’s the panic? I already sent the bodies for cremation. There’s no human flesh for you to eat.”
Not human flesh, not even monster meat.
Strangely, the college student actually felt comforted by that.
The three of them shared a table while Mu Tianbai went to get food.
At that moment, Baseball Cap happened to pass by, carrying a bowl. As he walked past Zhou Qi’an, his steps faltered slightly.
Today, he was wearing an extra loose-fitting jacket, but underneath, his movements were noticeably stiff.
He was injured.
Tsk, too bad he’s not dead.
Was the Red Cloak just freeloading? Even in that situation, they still failed to kill him?
Zhou Qi’an remained seated calmly, as if last night’s events had nothing to do with him.
Soon, Mu Tianbai returned with a tray. Zhou Qi’an poured some vinegar into his wontons, lifting his eyelids slightly as he ate, quietly enjoying the tension between Red Cloak Girl and Baseball Cap.
Not far away, Origami Boy looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, giving the impression of a body completely drained of energy.
Some players were whispering to each other, while others were lying on the tables catching up on sleep. Compared to when they first got off the bus, several people were missing.
For a four-star instance, this was an expected attrition rate. The unusual part was that, normally, this ‘expendable loss’ came from new players—but this time, it was the old players fighting among themselves.
Everyone ate breakfast with their own thoughts. Zhou Qi’an silently planned the top-floor exploration, when suddenly—
A mechanical voice rang out without warning.
“Notice: Jinxiang Tower is about to receive a new external worker.”
Everyone’s chopsticks froze.
This was a group announcement, meaning a new player was about to enter.
The experienced players exchanged glances.
Midway insertions could happen for two reasons—one, for story development, but more often, it was because a player or an eligible newcomer accidentally entered before the instance entrance closed.
Ever since the Holy Artifact appeared, new entry points had been opening daily. No one knew which unlucky soul had wandered in this time.
Someone shook their head. “Not sure if that’s good luck or bad luck. At least they didn’t get completely lost in the overworld map.”
Jinxiang Tower was just a coordinate. But the map tied to it was as big as a city.
Usually, unless a staff member guided them, players wouldn’t receive any game prompts before reaching the tower. So under normal circumstances, even an experienced player who entered the instance by accident would have an extremely high chance of never even finding the mission location before the instance ended.
“I doubt they’re weak. Most likely an experienced player,” someone else commented.
After all, most people wouldn’t even make it through the overworld map. The tunnels alone were filled with countless monsters. Most accidental entrants ended up erased, reduced to one of those bloated corpses floating in the tunnel.
A new player?
For some reason, an uneasy premonition suddenly rose in Zhou Qi’an’s heart.
The wonton in his mouth… suddenly lost its flavor.
