WTNL Chapter 253

Changsheng Building
Chapter 253: CPR

In the darkness behind them, the relentless, rigid footsteps suddenly stopped, then changed direction, heading away from their area step by step.

“…?!”

Listening to the gradually receding footsteps, Zhang Yu, who had been bracing for the next round of attacks, couldn’t help but be stunned.

“It seems we’ve succeeded.”

Next to him, Orange Candy stared into the darkness and suddenly spoke.

Only by finding the actual goods sold in the shop on the fourth floor would the “customer” abandon them as fixed targets and head toward the incense burner.

“So what now? Do we go back?” Wei Cheng asked.

“Of course,” Orange Candy nodded. “We’ll take a different route to avoid it.”

The three deliberately took a detour within the shop, putting more distance between them and the “customer’s” footsteps, to avoid attracting its attention again, and headed towards the counter.

Not far ahead, a dim oil lamp flickered, standing as the only beacon in the boundless, ocean-like darkness.

They quickened their pace, rushed into the light, and collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

Orange Candy lifted her gaze, scanned behind the counter, and frowned.

“Where is she?”

Though her question didn’t specify a person, everyone present knew exactly who Orange Candy was referring to.

Qi Qian’s face was somber as he shook his head.

Something was wrong.

After all, the distance between the incense burner and the counter wasn’t far, so the round trip should have taken even less time. Yet the situation now was that Orange Candy’s group, who had taken the longest route, even going out of their way to avoid the customer, had already returned, while Wen Jianyan was still nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile—

“Tap, tap, tap.”

The customer’s rigid footsteps were slowly approaching, and judging by the sound, it seemed to be very close to the incense burner.

Everyone’s nerves tensed up.

“Let’s wait a little longer.” Qi Qian stared deeply into the darkness, not far away. “If she doesn’t appear within a minute, activate the item.”

Tong Yao, beside him, nodded.

Activating the item would forcibly pull the person back; it was their last resort and couldn’t be used unless absolutely necessary. After all, no one knew what Wen Jianyan was doing now. If their rash actions interfered with whatever she was doing, it wouldn’t just mean all efforts had been wasted, but that they could all end up dead.

The group held their breath slightly, their hearts involuntarily tightening as they stared intently into the darkness, counting each second in their minds, waiting.

*

After dripping his blood into the incense burner, Wen Jianyan quickly realized how dangerous his situation had become.

Green smoke, thick with the scent of blood, spiraled upwards, like an invisible thread tightly connecting him to the incense burner in front of him.

Doing this was akin to making himself the sacrifice; the “customer’s” next meal.

In the darkness not far away, where the candlelight couldn’t reach, the footsteps that had been following the red light abruptly stopped, then turned.

Even without listening closely, Wen Jianyan knew it was definitely heading his way.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, he took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to turn and flee rising from deep within him.

In this situation, Wen Jianyan harbored no unrealistic hopes that simply leaving the area would prevent the “customer” from devouring him. In this instance, that was simply impossible.

Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm.

First of all, “people” are the merchandise of the fourth floor. This should be beyond doubt.

On the previous three floors, the “customer” had already formed a complete body. On the fourth floor, it entered the next stage—feeding.

On each floor, the number of customers the host needed to serve would increase. By the fourth floor, to continue moving upward, they would need to serve four customers.

But if each service required the sacrifice of a human life, then for them to reach the fifth floor, four people would need to die!

If that were true, the fourth floor would be a guaranteed death trap.

Their current number was sufficient because there were two teams, but for other smaller groups, losing four people would almost mean total annihilation.

This was overly simplistic and brutal, not only violating the rules of the Nightmare, but also contradicting the strict structure that the “Changsheng Building” instance had shown from the beginning.

Moreover, the fact that Wu Zhu sent him back to the third floor and had him use another method to go up suggested that the fourth floor wasn’t an unsolvable death trap, but had a proper way to break through.

Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his palms slick with cold sweat.

In the faint candlelight, his lips were tightly pressed together, a bruise still lingering on his lower lip, now stained with the fresh blood that had just seeped from his fingertips. Against his pale complexion, the red looked particularly jarring.

Think, think fast!

“Changsheng Building” was a rare instance structured by merciless rules. There were no NPCs, no text records, and no clear clues pointing the way. Yet, in another, eerier way, it was a self-contained system, like a precisely functioning machine. Every phenomenon had its explanation; every clue had its purpose.

…There had to be some detail he had overlooked.

In the nearby darkness, the footsteps drew closer, each step echoing on the ground like the toll of a death knell.

Wen Jianyan could hear his heart pounding wildly, his blood pressure spiking, and every muscle in his body instinctively tensing.

His gaze dropped, and he suddenly fell upon the offerings in front of him.

“……”

Wen Jianyan was startled.

If human life was truly the real sacrifice, then the cakes, fruits, and other items on the plates would be completely meaningless, wouldn’t they?

It would suffice to drip blood into the incense burner to complete the ritual.

But…

Contrary to this notion, in front of every ancestral tablet—whether at the grave mounds or within the quadrangle—these traditional offerings, seemingly useless in this dungeon, were placed and were all in a state of decay.

This was definitely not a coincidence.

In other words…

These ordinary offerings might also be an integral part of the sacrificial ritual.

Wen Jianyan leaned down, closely examining the offerings in front of him—

Due to the dim candlelight, he hadn’t noticed until now that a faint wisp of greenish smoke seemed to hover above the three plates of offerings, as if it had drifted from the burning incense, silently entwining itself around them.

Unlike the clear connection between Wen Jianyan and the incense burner, the smoke on the offerings appeared to be an unconscious coincidence.

But Wen Jianyan knew that this was absolutely not the case.

This also confirmed his suspicion: merely using these offerings without human life would be insufficient to complete the sacrificial process, but without them, it would lead to an almost guaranteed death trap for the entire group.

In an instant, it was as if a flash of light crossed his mind, and Wen Jianyan suddenly realized something.

He raised his hand and hovered his finger over one of the pastries on the plate, applying slight pressure—

The unhealed wound split open instantly, and a drop of bright red blood fell with a “plop,” landing on one of the snow-white pastries.

The blood was absorbed in an instant.

Almost immediately, the faint, indistinct smoke that shrouded the three plates of offerings condensed into a thin thread, tightly linking the incense burner to the plate with the bloodstained pastry.

*

Time passed excruciatingly slowly, each second stretching into what felt like an entire century, yet also passing so quickly that more than half a minute seemed to have gone by in the blink of an eye.

Only twenty seconds remained.

Everyone stared intently into the darkness not far away, the air deathly silent except for the heavy, rigid footsteps steadily approaching, the atmosphere so heavy and oppressive that even breathing seemed difficult.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

Judging by the sound, the “customer” should now be standing before the incense burner.

However, there were only ten seconds left.

Everyone’s hearts sank.

If Wen Jianyan hadn’t returned by now, the likelihood of his death was almost unimaginable.

“No more waiting,” Qi Qian gritted his teeth and looked at Tong Yao. “Ac—”

Before the last word left his mouth, a sudden rush of footsteps came from the darkness ahead. Like a rabbit with its tail on fire, a silver-haired girl holding a candlestick dashed forward, almost crashing into them before they had time to react!

She had returned!

She was really back, alive!

At the sight of Wen Jianyan’s figure, everyone’s spirits lifted, their eyes brightening.

However, just as he appeared in their view, the “customer’s” footsteps abruptly stopped without warning.

The next second, Wen Jianyan’s legs gave out, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

“!!!”

Everyone froze, shock evident on their faces.

An Xin, the closest, took a swift step forward, catching Wen Jianyan’s collapsing body just before it hit the ground—and almost lost his balance under the sudden weight.

He had no time to worry about the other’s weight, shaking Wen Jianyan’s cold body in alarm.

“Wen Wen, Wen Wen! Are you okay?”

The other remained motionless, face down, his slender limbs hanging limply, looking as though he were dead.

Until he was turned over.

The girl’s face was deathly pale; her long, silvery hair was thick and soft, cascading down like flowing water. Her eyes were tightly closed, and her eyelashes of the same color were drooping low, making her appear excessively fragile and pitiful.

An Xin placed his fingers under her nose, carefully checking.

A faint, weak breath brushed against his fingertips, and An Xin let out a long sigh of relief…

Thank goodness, she’s alive.

*

Wen Jianyan could clearly feel the process of his life force being drained from his body—quickly, and coldly. His knees buckled, and he collapsed.

Before he could hit the ground, his vision went black, and he fell into a brief unconsciousness.

“…Wen Wen, Wen Wen!”

“Are you okay?”

An Xin’s voice seemed to come from far away, the urgency in it unmistakable.

“……”

Wen Jianyan frowned slightly, his eyelashes fluttering as he slowly opened his eyes.

He saw his own body lying in An Xin’s arms, his face pale and his eyes tightly closed, looking almost indistinguishable from a corpse.

“?”

This perspective felt strange, leaving Wen Jianyan momentarily confused about his current situation.

Until something began to creep out of the darkness, wrapping around his limbs, and slowly tightening.

A cold, pale hand grasped Wen Jianyan’s waist, and an icy chest pressed tightly against his back.

This feeling…

Why did it seem so familiar?

Wen Jianyan turned his head slightly, glancing to the side.

The man, who shouldn’t have been there, was now clearly and undeniably present behind him.

Wen Jianyan: “……………”

Oh, right, he was unconscious now.

Wu Zhu was severely restricted within this dungeon, almost entirely unable to invade in the usual way, but he could enter Wen Jianyan’s dreams—just like when Mu Sen knocked him out on the third floor.

Although Wu Zhu hadn’t mentioned it, Wen Jianyan suspected this might be an added effect of the mark on his body.

The man emerged from the darkness behind Wen Jianyan, peering over his shoulder at the scene not far away—his gaze fell upon the unconscious Wen Jianyan and An Xin, who were holding him.

In the dim light, the handsome young man cradled the beautiful and fragile girl in his arms, his anxiety apparent. In such a perilous situation, the two seemed exceptionally close, leaning on each other for support.

A dark glint flickered in those golden eyes.

“……”

For some reason, a sense of foreboding crept up Wen Jianyan’s spine.

Behind the counter.

“What’s wrong with her?” Orange Candy frowned and asked.

An Xin shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He wrapped his arm around Wen Jianyan’s slender shoulders and touched his cheek with his fingers, worry evident on his face as he said:

“So cold.”

Wu Zhu’s arm suddenly tightened.

“?!” 

Wen Jianyan’s waist was squeezed, and he instinctively gasped.

The next moment, the man behind him leaned down, cold strands of hair cascading like snakes into the hollow of Wen Jianyan’s neck, causing an unbearable tickle. Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but shrink his neck. Then, a low, emotionless voice sounded in his ear:

“Who is he?”

Wen Jianyan: “……”

Qi Qian squatted down and briefly checked Wen Jianyan’s pulse and pupils, saying:

“There’s no immediate danger to her life.”

Su Cheng also squatted down, took his wrist, and carefully observed it before shaking his head, “No signs of decay on her body either.”

Orange Candy frowned. “Then why isn’t she waking up?”

“I don’t know,” Qi Qian frowned, “but the customer hasn’t left yet, and the information she has is crucial to us. We need to wake her up quickly.”

Zhang Yu nodded solemnly, “Alright, I’ll check the system shop to see if there are any items that can speed up the process.”

“Good.”

Tong Yao, standing by, suggested:

“To increase the success rate, should we try CPR?”

The real Wen Jianyan, standing beside them: “……”

Wu Zhu turned his head slightly, staring at the stiff profile of the young man in his arms. His deep voice was emotionless, as if merely curious, and he repeated:

“CPR?”

Wen Jianyan: “……..”

Damn it.

If he didn’t do something now, it might be too late later.

Countless thoughts flashed through Wen Jianyan’s mind. Keeping a blank expression, he freed one hand from the other’s embrace, turned around, grabbed Wu Zhu’s chin, and before Wu Zhu could react, pulled him close and planted a forceful kiss on his cold, tightly closed lips, producing a loud “smooch.”

“……”

This time, it was Wu Zhu’s turn to be stunned.

He blinked, his expression blank for a moment, as if he hadn’t quite processed what had just happened.

But the next second, a familiar flame ignited in those golden eyes.

Wen Jianyan had seen this before, more than once.

Whether in the Ping An Asylum with those severe maniacs or just now in the paper sedan chair on the third floor, Wu Zhu’s eyes had the same flame—filled with desire, greed, and yearning, burning silently within the icy golden depths as if ready to consume everything.

Sure enough, the next second, the arm around his waist tightened, and Wu Zhu’s face moved closer.

It wasn’t like a kiss—it was more like a hunt.

Wen Jianyan swiftly covered Wu Zhu’s lower face with his hand.

Having already done this once in the sedan chair, his actions were smooth and practiced this time, without the slightest hesitation or delay.

“?”

Wu Zhu remained silent, letting Wen Jianyan cover his mouth, gazing at him with a hint of confusion deep within his inhuman eyes.

It seemed he didn’t quite understand…

Why… After the other had initiated things, he wasn’t allowed to continue.

“Aren’t you curious?”

Wen Jianyan leaned in, the corners of his lips curling into a faintly tender smile, and he said with a cheerful grin, “This is CPR.”

He moved a little closer, staring into the other’s bottomless golden eyes, his tone light and teasing, almost provocatively:

“If I don’t wake up soon, they’ll probably do it.”

The silver-haired young man stuck out his scarlet tongue, slowly and sensually licking the back of his hand, which was pressed against the other’s lips, leaving a glistening wet streak.

His amber eyes curved slightly, their corners lifting like hooks:

“You wouldn’t want to see that, would you?”

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