Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 342: The mirror facing the bed…
The hotel corridor was pitch black, extending silently into the distance.
The hotel manager, dressed in formal attire, walked ahead, the lantern in his hand serving as the only light source in the vast darkness. The dim glow faintly illuminated the dark red walls on either side, whose monotonous, repetitive patterns inexplicably induced a sense of dizziness and numbness.
A group of people followed closely behind, walking through the impenetrable darkness.
“Where exactly are we going?”
Zhong Shan shrank his shoulders and lowered his voice as he asked.
Ahead, Chen Mo shook his head without answering.
Apart from the hotel manager leading the way, no one knew the answer to that question.
Wen Jianyan slightly turned his head, examining the path they were taking and trying to match it with the hotel map in his mind.
He failed.
What should have been an intersection had become a solid wall, and what should have been a straight, unbranching corridor had inexplicably developed an unknown fork in the road.
The hotel map that had been deeply ingrained in his mind suddenly seemed to transform into a pitch-black labyrinth filled with the unknown. Their vision was severely limited, forcing them to rely on the faint light ahead to feel their way forward step by step, a deeply unsettling experience.
“……”
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes slightly.
He did not believe that his memory had failed him or that he had miscounted his steps, causing the entire route to become unrecognizable.
His thoughtful gaze fell on the back of the hotel manager walking ahead.
The man walked forward with his back to them, the lantern in his hand casting a weak glow—the only beacon in the darkness, leading them ever forward into the unknown.
As time passed, their patience gradually wore thin. Just as everyone was beginning to grow restless, the hotel manager suddenly came to an abrupt halt without warning.
The faint light illuminated the wall ahead, revealing an oddly smooth texture. It looked almost like…
“Ding!”
A crisp sound shattered the silence.
An iron door slowly slid open to the sides, revealing a narrow, familiar space.
It was… an elevator?
However, unlike the elevator in their memories, the light overhead was an ominous blood-red hue, filling the small, enclosed space with a suffocating crimson glow, as if the entire compartment had been submerged in blood. The sight sent a chill down their spines.
Standing outside the elevator, no one dared to step forward for a moment.
But the hotel manager entered naturally.
Under the eerie red light, his deathly pale face, adorned with an unsettling smile, appeared even more terrifying. He smiled and asked, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you coming in?”
“……”
The group exchanged glances before gritting their teeth and stepping inside.
The elevator doors automatically closed behind them.
No one saw the hotel manager press any buttons, yet the elevator trembled slightly and, accompanied by the faint sound of machinery, began to ascend slowly.
Before long, the elevator let out another “ding.”
Wen Jianyan glanced at the display screen, and his heart skipped a beat.
The number displayed was… 1.
The first floor.
But just now, they had clearly been on the third floor, hadn’t they?
The elevator doors opened automatically, revealing another pitch-black corridor.
The hotel manager stepped forward, and the rest hurriedly followed.
Wen Jianyan turned his head to take in his surroundings.
This place…
Although the layout resembled that of the first floor, based on his previous experience, the finer details were drastically different.
This was not the first floor of the Xingwang Hotel that they had previously sneaked into.
As Wen Jianyan pondered, the group had unknowingly reached the end of the corridor, where the hotel manager finally stopped.
What appeared before them was not any room on the first floor—it was a massive, heavy redwood door.
The hotel manager turned to the side, his ghastly pale face appearing even more terrifying under the light. With a stiff smile, he said slowly, “Please wait inside for a moment.”
With that, he raised his hand and pushed open the door.
Unlike the pitch-black corridor, the space beyond the heavy wooden doors was brightly lit.
The sudden flood of light made everyone instinctively squint their eyes. It took a moment before they could finally adjust.
It was a spacious hall.
In the center of the hall stood a dining table covered with a pristine white tablecloth, but it was completely empty. The chandelier overhead shone brilliantly, yet for some reason, an eerie chill lingered in the air.
There were people inside.
More than one.
Wen Jianyan’s gaze quickly landed on one of them.
—It was the gentleman and his team.
The other party raised a hand and adjusted the brim of his hat, as if their previous conflict on Ghost Street had never happened, offering them a polite smile.
Seeing those familiar faces, everyone instinctively tensed up. Yun Bilan’s face darkened as she locked her dark red eyes onto the opposing team, like a panther ready to pounce and tear out their throats at any moment.
Wen Jianyan raised a hand to stop Yun Bilan, shaking his head slightly.
Then, he led his team to the opposite corner of the room, maintaining a cautious yet civil distance from their rivals.
And so began a long wait.
Every so often, the heavy redwood door would open again, admitting another team; their numbers noticeably dwindled. Some were from the Black faction, some from the Red.
As soon as they entered the hall, they immediately assessed the situation, located the area where their faction was situated, and quickly reunited with their teammates.
Wen Jianyan’s gaze swept over his side’s team.
Almost all the anchors who had arrived here were those who had remained silent and observed cautiously during the previous meeting, whereas those who had hastily voiced their opinions and taken a stand were almost entirely eliminated.
The number of people in the hall gradually increased.
However, overall, it was far fewer than the total number of anchors in the instance. In this large instance with nearly two hundred anchors, fewer than thirty had actually made it into this hall.
Moreover…
Wen Jianyan cast an inconspicuous glance toward the black faction.
It was evident that the black faction had more people than the red faction.
“Creak—”
The mahogany door let out a hoarse sound as it slowly swung open once more.
However, this time, the arrival was not a new squad but the hotel manager who had led them here.
The door closed behind him with a resounding boom.
“Congratulations, everyone. You have successfully invited guests to stay at our hotel and have worked diligently to make their brief time here more comfortable.”
The hotel manager maintained his ever-present smile and continued, “Everyone who has made it here has successfully passed the trainee employee assessment and has officially become a full-time employee of Xingwang Hotel.”
…Brief time?
Wen Jianyan frowned slightly.
His gaze landed on the hotel manager, waiting for him to continue.
“Becoming a full-time employee means that you will receive better employee benefits and official salary compensation, but you will also face more arduous work,” the hotel manager stated.
His lifeless, black eyes swept over the anchors in front of him as he continued to smile:
“Please check the contents of the full-time employee handbook in a timely manner.”
Full-time employee handbook—?
Wen Jianyan paused in his movements, as if realizing something, and took out the small black leather booklet from his pocket.
At some point, the surface of the black leather booklet had gained a few embossed golden characters:
“Full-Time Employee Handbook.”
The other anchors also reacted at this moment, hastily pulling out the small booklet they had received at the beginning.
Upon opening the first page, they saw the so-called “Employee Benefits.”
From the moment they became full-time employees, their ability to traverse between the two worlds was no longer limited to lights-out and blackout periods. Instead, they were granted three opportunities per day to open the door, each lasting one hour, which could be activated by adjusting the dial on the clock.
As for when to use it, that was up to them.
More importantly, all full-time employees would be assigned absolutely safe employee dormitories. As long as they stayed in their dormitories at night, they wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked.
The second page covered “Employee Compensation.”
Each guest brought into the hotel earned them one yuan.
Fulfilling a guest’s “wish” also earned them one yuan.
If a guest was satisfied, they might receive tips of varying amounts.
“Your new uniforms, employee badges, and today’s wages have already been delivered to your rooms,” the hotel manager said with a smile.
“Next, please take a good rest. Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new workday.”
After speaking, the hotel manager turned to leave.
“Wait a minute!”
A voice suddenly rang out.
The hotel manager halted his steps and turned his head.
The one who called out to him was an anchor from the black faction.
“What about those who didn’t become full-time employees today?” the person asked with a frown. “What will happen to them?”
The smile on the hotel manager’s face remained unchanged, but for some reason, there was an inexplicable hint of eeriness in his expression.
He did not answer the question directly:
“The recruitment of full-time employees will close at lights-out tomorrow night.”
Wait.
Suddenly, Wen Jianyan realized something.
“Tomorrow”?
In every instance he had entered before, the time measurement had never been in “days.” Instead, it had always been in more precise units of “hours.”
Even in instances lasting multiple days, the duration would be explicitly stated as “24 hours,” “48 hours,” and so on.
Following this logic, the duration of the Xingwang Hotel instance should have been “72 hours”… rather than the currently presented “three days.”
This was a highly ambiguous and easily manipulated concept.
Just like today.
When they entered the instance, it was “9 AM” in the instance world, and only twelve hours had passed since then. However, from the instance’s perspective, they had already completed “one day.”
This meant that their stay in the Xingwang Hotel instance was not bound by an exact 72-hour period. Instead, it was dictated by the events occurring within the hotel.
A rough timeline of the instance gradually took shape in Wen Jianyan’s mind.
The Xingwang Hotel instance lasted for three days. The essence of the first two days was “employee assessment.”
Then, what event would occur on the final day?
Wen Jianyan subtly turned his head, his gaze landing on the long dining table in the center of the hall, and suddenly froze.
As if confirming his suspicions, the manager’s voice rang out once more:
“All full-time employees will attend the banquet and receive the honor of serving the distinguished guests.”
“Please make sure not to mess up and tarnish our hotel’s reputation.”
The indistinct features on his face seemed to stretch into a deeper smile:
“After the banquet concludes, I will settle your wages.”
With that, he turned around, pushed open the mahogany door behind him, and said to everyone, “Please follow me. I will lead you to the employee dormitories.”
Next was the so-called “dormitory assignment.”
As part of the “full-time employee benefits,” this dormitory corridor would not have any “guests” appearing—at least for tonight, it was guaranteed to be absolutely safe.
The anchors from the black faction were assigned to the corridor on the right, while those from the red faction were assigned to the corridor on the left.
Although the two factions were opponents, no one was foolish enough to start a conflict under such an open and transparent setup. Any direct confrontation would only lead to mutual destruction.
Wen Jianyan received a key from the hotel manager.
He turned the key in the door handle and exchanged a glance with the others—before resting, they needed to organize the information and clues they had gathered so far.
The others followed suit.
The so-called employee dormitories were, in fact, identical to the guest rooms within the Xingwang Hotel in terms of facilities. However, the layout was entirely reversed.
Aside from that, there was one particularly striking difference…
The large painting that should have been on the wall directly facing the bed had been replaced by a mirror of the same enormous size.
Blond curled his fingers and knocked on the mirror, producing a dull “dong dong” sound.
He joked, “At least it’s not a painting this time. At least tonight, we don’t have to worry about something crawling out of it.”
“But a mirror facing the bed…” Rui Rui shuddered slightly as if she had thought of something ominous. “It just feels… unsettling.”
“Hey!” Zhong Shan waved a hand dismissively. “Didn’t that white-faced guy say it? This room is an employee benefit, so there’s no danger. Worst case, just think of it as a fun mirror.”1The term “情趣镜子” (fun mirror) refers to a type of mirror in some hotel rooms, usually meant for intimacy.
He chuckled, “Plenty of hotels have them too! Just, y’know, usually on the ceiling!”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
He glanced at Zhong Shan with a complicated expression but didn’t respond.
No one else laughed at the joke either.
Yun Bilan furrowed her brows. “Speaking of which, how did you even join us?”
And why was he acting so familiar with them? Had he completely forgotten that at the start of the instance, he had tried to screw them over?
Zhong Shan seemed to catch the underlying meaning in Yun Bilan’s words. His expression immediately turned obsequious as he grinned. “Ahh, my bad, my bad! I really didn’t know who I was messing with before. Thank goodness for your generosity, Boss, that you’re actually willing to let me tag along. I swear, from now on, I will—”
“Alright, enough.”
Wen Jianyan pinched the bridge of his nose, cutting off Zhong Shan’s next words.
He had no patience for empty oaths. If it came down to swearing loyalty, Zhong Shan might as well start calling him ancestor. The only reason he hadn’t kicked him out yet was because it wasn’t necessary—for now, keeping them around still served a purpose. It wasn’t because he actually trusted these opportunistic teammates.
“Let’s talk business.”
At his words, everyone’s expressions turned serious, shifting their focus back to him.
“You all heard what the hotel manager just said, right?” Wen Jianyan asked.
The group nodded.
“Good.”
Wen Jianyan nodded slightly and concisely explained his deductions regarding the instance duration and the three-day event structure.
After finishing, he paused, allowing the team members time to process the information.
“So, what you mean is—”
Chen Mo, who had been lost in thought for a while, was the first to break the silence. “We don’t actually have to stay in this instance for three days? As long as we make it through the banquet, we can leave?”
“Exactly.”
Wen Jianyan nodded.
“Whoa…” Zhong Shan deflated like a punctured balloon, sighing in relief. “That’s great, that’s really great… Staying 72 hours in this damned instance would be worse than death.”
Wen Jianyan glanced at him expressionlessly.
For most anchors, a shorter instance duration meant a lower risk. But for him… the situation was the complete opposite.
As the protagonist of a versus instance, his goal wasn’t just to endure—but to win.
And right now, the black faction was far ahead of the red faction in both information and strategy. The shortened instance duration put him at a serious disadvantage.
It meant he had even less time to turn the tables.
“There’s one more thing—about the victory conditions in this versus instance.” Wen Jianyan said.
Blond perked up, “You’ve figured something out?”
Wen Jianyan nodded, then turned and walked toward the bed, reaching out to open the wardrobe.
Sure enough, just as the hotel manager had stated—
A neatly folded, brand-new employee uniform lay inside, perfectly arranged.
Next to it sat a red employee badge with the label:
[Full-Time Employee 001]
Beneath the badge, several joss papers were tucked away.
The paper had a faint greenish tint, and the pattern on it was strikingly familiar—it was unmistakably the underworld currency he had encountered in the previous instance.
Wen Jianyan paused, set his badge aside, and picked up the paper money to count it.
A total of four yuan.
There had been three guests brought in today, and with one guest’s “wish” being fulfilled, the total wages amounted to just this much.
Wen Jianyan turned to look at the others, shaking the paper money in his hand, and asked, “Do you remember the last thing the hotel manager said?”
“That wages will be settled after the banquet…?”
Chen Mo was briefly stunned before quickly reacting:
“You mean that victory in this instance for the red and black factions is determined by the final employee performance?”
“Based on the currently available information, that seems highly likely,” Wen Jianyan replied cautiously.
“Well, this instance is certainly interesting…”
Yun Bilan’s eyes flickered as she pondered. “In most instances, the difficulty increases as the game progresses, but this one seems to work in reverse.”
At least, that appeared to be the case so far.
The anchors entering the Xingwang Hotel instance had to explore blindly without any prior information. They had to navigate the malicious environment, avoid numerous pitfalls, compete with rival anchors for guests, secure accommodations, and evade hostile guests who might appear during the illuminated periods—an extremely perilous situation.
However, once an anchor grasped the rules and completed all internship assessments, they would gain full employee status.
Official employees not only had access to safe lodging but also the privilege of freely traversing between the two maps. This allowed them to further uncover the true mechanisms governing the instance.
For them, the level of danger was significantly reduced.
From this point forward, all they had to do was strive to “earn money” and make it through the third-day “banquet.” That would be enough.
“…Perhaps.”
Wen Jianyan curled his lips into a slight smirk, his gaze falling on the underworld currency in his hand.
Seeing the familiar pattern, he inexplicably felt no optimism. On the contrary, an overwhelming sense of hidden dangers lurking everywhere gnawed at him.
He shut the cabinet before him and turned to the others. “Do you all have anything—”
His sentence was cut off midway, the words catching in his throat.
Wen Jianyan’s eyes widened slightly as he stared at the mirror directly facing the bed.
The mirror reflected every corner of the room, capturing each person’s silhouette with clarity.
Zhong Shan, Blond, and Chen Mo had their backs to the mirror. Yun Bilan and Bai Xue were positioned sideways. Rui Rui leaned against the mirror. Wen Jianyan himself stood near the wardrobe, far from the reflective surface.
But there was one problem—
The number of people in the mirror was greater than in reality.
A black-haired, golden-eyed man stood naturally beside Wen Jianyan, as though he existed not only in the reflection but also in the real world.
He lowered his head, his gaze fixed curiously on the paper money in Wen Jianyan’s hand.
Wen Jianyan’s pupils contracted sharply. He turned his head suddenly to look beside him—
Empty.
Yet in the mirror, Wu Zhu was undeniably present. Not only that, but he had even drawn closer.
The cold, silky strands of long hair brushed past Wen Jianyan’s ear, grazing his shoulder. Jolted by the sensation, Wen Jianyan instinctively recoiled, only to slam into the cabinet with a “thud.”
“What’s wrong?”
Everyone was startled by his sudden movement.
“Did something happen?”
Chen Mo noticed Wen Jianyan’s gaze and turned toward the mirror.
“!!!”
Wen Jianyan didn’t even have time to stop him before Chen Mo had already turned his head—his eyes scanning the reflection. Yet, he appeared completely oblivious to the towering, unannounced godlike figure standing there. Puzzled, he turned back and asked,
“Is there something wrong with the mirror? What did you see?”
Of course, something was wrong.
Something was very wrong!!
Wen Jianyan clenched his jaw but maintained a neutral expression. “It’s nothing… I just mistook a shadow on the wall for something unusual.”
“Are you sure?”
The others still seemed concerned.
“…Of course.” Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and smiled. “I guess my nerves are just too tense today.”
In the mirror, Wu Zhu’s golden pupils gleamed playfully.
He raised a hand and pressed his palm against Wen Jianyan’s lower back, pulling him away from the cabinet.
Wen Jianyan’s spine stiffened, but he didn’t resist.
His mind raced.
How could this be?!
Why was Wu Zhu in the mirror? Hadn’t he been left behind on that street?
More importantly…
Why was he able to feel everything happening in the mirror so vividly in reality?!
Bwahahahahahaha, I love it. My puppy is Back in Action. CUTE!!
Jeez he’s so adorable, I could just see his tail wag when he pushed Wen Wen from the wardrobe.