Chapter 22: The Third Question

It felt as if Yin Luo had returned to the very start of the instance, filled with a sense of novelty for everything.

The moment the blade-wielding Fierce Ghost died, the negative emotions that had plagued him dissipated. Reason returned, and his mood lifted considerably.

He stepped out of the infirmary with a light gait, discovering that outside had transformed in the blink of an eye to bright daylight.

The room’s decor had reverted to its original luxury, cheerful birdsong drifted in from the window, and everything was peaceful and serene.

“Is it… over?”

Yin Luo raised his eyes. A decorative statue in his line of sight instantly frosted over with ice. With another mental command, the statue cracked and crumbled into a pile of shards.

“Seems it’s not over.”

Only then was the white-haired youth satisfied. Hugging Little Bear, who had somehow become a bit subdued, he strolled around.

Unlike two days ago, when he’d constantly felt out of place and powerless, the villa was now almost entirely under his control. It felt as cozy and comfortable as his own little den.

Yet countless questions still lingered in his mind.

How had that Zou Zihao managed to blend in with the players?

Did he also have a main quest? Was he aware of the game’s existence? If he completed his quest, would he leave this place like the other players?

Was all of this orchestrated by this so-called game?

“You know something, don’t you?” Yin Luo lifted the white rabbit plushie up, staring at it intently. Two pairs of crimson eyes met.

Little Bear turned its head aside, avoiding his gaze. Its two ears drooped, making it look somewhat guilty.

“Say something,” the white-haired youth shook it.

Its ears flopped back and forth from the shaking. Feeling a bit dizzy, Little Bear simply tilted its head to the side and played dead.

Yin Luo poked its round face. “You little brat.”

Instead of taking the elevator, he walked up the stairs. Through a window, he had a perfect view of the outdoor swimming pool in the second-floor sky garden.

Through the glass and from over ten meters away, the glimmering water of the pool froze in an instant, solidifying like a giant piece of fluorite, reflecting shattered light under the sun.

Hmph. That’s for swimming in the middle of the night.

The white-haired youth felt even more pleased.

“Pearl.”

Yin Luo turned. The long-skirted woman he hadn’t seen in a while was standing at the stairway entrance, watching him warmly.

She seemed to have known everything all along, quietly waiting for Yin Luo’s arrival.

Or perhaps she was truly like an NPC guide in a game, but one who only served Yin Luo.

“Aunt Jing.” The white-haired youth walked up to her. He had too many questions, so he simply picked one at random. “That person… was he resurrected?”

That person, of course, referred to Zou Zihao.

The long-skirted woman answered, “No one who becomes a Fierce Ghost can be resurrected. If such a thing were possible, it would never happen to a useless individual like him.”

“Then he was…”

“Merely lingering on borrowed time, relying on a deity’s power.” Her tone was even. “Just like those so-called guests.”

Deity? Did she mean the game?

Yin Luo’s heart pounded with the nervous excitement of glimpsing the truth.

After a long pause, he asked, “What about me? Am I the same as it, as them?”

“Pearl, how could you be the same as them?” The long-skirted woman couldn’t help but laugh softly at this. “It was a remnant soul, they were on the brink of death, but you are a living person.”

Living person?

Yin Luo thought of his current state, of the game prompts about the Flesh and Blood Force and Corpse Frost Power. Hearing Aunt Jing’s words created a huge sense of contradiction and dissonance.

Or did she mean his state in reality?

He finally realized that perhaps Aunt Jing wasn’t quite normal either…

But Yin Luo had never been good with words, only with silence.

So he changed the question: “Then how did it manage to blend in with the guests?”

“Perhaps an overambitious wager with a deity?” The long-skirted woman cared for little beyond those she cherished, much less a waste of space that was both stupid and had hurt Pearl. “Or perhaps it was a transaction.”

“If he completed his quest, could he really have left this place?” Yin Luo was especially curious about this.

“A mindless monster can never leave this place.”

Seeing the white-haired youth’s slightly confused look, Aunt Jing switched to a simpler, more direct explanation: “It was too weak. It was unworthy.”

Ah. Now Yin Luo understood.

He could sense that Aunt Jing was likely aware of many things, but something seemed to restrain her, forcing her to speak only in veiled hints. It always sounded somewhat obscure.

But he wasn’t in a rush. There was a strange, wonderful joy in uncovering the truth step by step on this path; the future was worth anticipating.

So he asked one final, less critical question: “Then, was everything that happened here in the past real? To me, I mean.”

“It can be, or it can not be.” Aunt Jing gently ruffled Yin Luo’s hair, which had turned white due to the aberration of the Corpse Frost Power, and said softly, “But since it wasn’t particularly pleasant, let’s just call it a story.”

“A story about an ungrateful wretch who applied for a job as a family chef. Driven by a sense of injustice and self-righteous cynicism, he got drunk and killed the defenseless young master. Then he tried to dismember and freeze the body, and set a fire to cover his crimes. Tedious and disgusting.”

“But at least the story’s true main character wasn’t him, and he ultimately paid the price.” She smoothed back a stray lock of hair from her temple.

The white-haired youth blinked. “Aunt Jing, you look so cool when you talk like that.”

The long-skirted woman’s originally icy expression cracked; she couldn’t help but laugh. She patted the youth’s shoulder and guided him forward. “End this quickly and go back. Someone will be worried about you.”

“Who?”

Aunt Jing shook her head, not answering. She simply smiled and waved her hand.

She stood precisely at the edge of the shadow; a single step forward would be sunlight. But the long-skirted woman remained where she always had been, watching the white-haired youth walk ahead, until his next backward glance.

…

“So how much longer do we have to wait here?” Wei Congxin was fidgety, a mix of anxiety and excitement.

No one paid him any attention.

Zhang Bing had a stern face. Yan Shanque was absorbed in writing in her diary. Lin Yujing stood by the window, gazing outside, leisurely sipping hot tea.

Wait, where did he get tea?

Wei Congxin once again realized that Lin Yujing was the only person here who was truly on vacation.

He actually had many questions, but he’d rather try to cozy up to the cold-faced Zhang Bing than strike up a conversation with the seemingly amiable Lin Yujing.

His intuition told him that beneath that pleasant, smiling exterior, the man’s heart was ice-cold.

Just as, even though they were about to leave this place, never to return to this instance or see its people again, Lin Yujing hadn’t shown a single shred of reluctance.

Even Wei Congxin felt a little wistful.

That Pearl, after all, was the first instance Boss he’d ever encountered. Even though he’d been petty and vengeful as a human, and even more violent, vicious, and powerful as a ghost, he was still uniquely unforgettable.

And as for money? The one million in debt he owed?

Given that frog’s appetite for gold, Lin Yujing might actually care about money, but he clearly didn’t care that much about such a “small amount.”

Lin Yujing had no idea that the most cowardly Wei Congxin was actually daring to grumble about him internally. He was currently looking down at the swimming pool, now frozen into a solid block of ice, and calmly taking a sip of tea.

Interesting.

He considered it for a moment, and was just about to head out and find the kid, when he saw Yin Luo walking in.

At this moment, Yin Luo was wearing a hoodie printed with cartoon patterns. If not for that striking white hair and red eyes, anyone would assume he was just an ordinary middle schooler.

The moment he entered, Yin Luo fixed his gaze on Lin Yujing. Just as the other players started to suspect some strange dynamic between them and wondered if a fight was about to break out, the white-haired youth suddenly asked, “Where’s your frog-baby?”

Lin Yujing shrugged. “Full and fast asleep.”

“Really?” Yin Luo didn’t believe him.

“Well, these low-level instances have restrictions, so it can’t show up for too long.”

Yin Luo was silent.

Although the players always assumed NPCs couldn’t hear them discussing the game or instances, he could hear them perfectly.

This deeply ingrained belief among players must have been tested, validated, and confirmed through experience. So why was he an exception?

He didn’t know if he was some alternative player, or really was the ultimate Boss.

Lin Yujing truly did and said whatever he pleased, and for a moment, Yin Luo couldn’t tell if the man was just being himself, or if he knew full well Yin Luo could hear this information and was saying it deliberately for his benefit.

The white-haired youth snorted.

“Why are you suddenly angry again?” Lin Yujing felt a bit helpless. While ghosts were indeed notoriously temperamental, this kid’s mood swings were a tad too quick.

Yin Luo ignored him and simply held out his hand. “Give me one.”

“What?”

“Candy. The tiger-shaped ones.”

Habitually reaching for various gems, Lin Yujing paused, then switched pockets to continue rummaging. “Don’t have any. Only big lions and little kitties left. Pick one.”

The white-haired youth pursed his lips. “Then I don’t want any.”

Lin Yujing, whose hand was already extended: ?

“No! You have to take one!”

“I won’t. I only want the tiger one. I don’t want any of the others.”

The grey-haired man was extremely displeased, looking like he very much wanted to stuff the candy into the other’s mouth by force. “Why? Why don’t you want the big lion? Why don’t you want the little kitty?”

Reluctantly, Yin Luo said, “Give me the kitty one then.”

“Are you looking down on the big lion?” Lin Yujing’s voice grew even louder.

“…” Zhang Bing felt he was probably getting too old for this. “What are they arguing about?”

“Uh, hehe…” Wei Congxin forced an awkward laugh.

Only the silent Yan Shanque was utterly engrossed, her eyes sparkling as she scribbled furiously in her diary.

The group felt like they’d just finished a murder mystery party game, enduring all sorts of intrigue and backstabbing to finally win. Now, no one cared what background their teammates had; everyone just wanted to collapse in exhaustion.

No one even suggested saying goodbye or completing the main quest.

“Hey. Do you still remember one thing?” Yin Luo took a sip of the tea Lin Yujing had poured him and suddenly spoke.

He didn’t name anyone, but everyone knew whom he was asking.

Lin Yujing feigned confusion. “What?”

“You still owe me the third question.”

“Oh dear, I thought you’d forgotten.” The grey-haired man stroked his chin. “Anyway, since it’s come to this, no one would blame me if I reneged now, right?”

The white-haired youth stared at him.

“Fine, fine. Ask away.” Lin Yujing relented under that silent gaze. “Do you want to ask stealthily, or secretly?”

The white-haired youth stood up, moved to sit beside Lin Yujing, and leaned his head in close.

He brought his unique, cold aura with him, his lips almost touching the fine hairs on the other’s skin.

“You’ve seen me before,” he said quietly. “Two days ago, at the very least.”

“…”

The careless smile that had always graced the grey-haired man’s face vanished.

He lowered his eyelids, concealing his expression.

It was like a lion that usually only basked and dozed in the sun, but when it truly rose to pounce on its prey, its fangs and claws were revealed.

Seeing him like this, Yin Luo suddenly burst out laughing.

A full, hearty laugh that seemed to belong to an adult.

He had his answer.

A spoken “yes” or “no” no longer mattered.

A corner of the fog that had shrouded his heart was finally torn open, and heavenly light streamed in.

He stood up, facing the bewildered players, and spread his arms wide. Like a true host addressing overnight guests, he revealed a deeply meaningful expression.

On that increasingly exquisite and beautiful face, one that transcended gender, was a look of condescending mockery, looking down from on high.

He said, “Goodbye, players.”