On the sightseeing bus, Su Ximu received a thin page of script from Blue 242 Leader. He discovered that his role was even smaller than yesterday’s. He only needed to show up at the breakfast table for a moment, and he could continue serving as background the rest of the time.
It was similar to yesterday’s nepo treatment.
Su Ximu closed his script—which he had memorized with one glance—and couldn’t help but beat around the bush with the leader. “Blue 242 Leader, actu-actually, you don’t need to give me special treatment.”
For a young man who had suddenly experienced this preferential treatment, getting light-headed was just some people’s condescending assumption. Feeling at a loss was the reality.
Blue 242 looked at him. Complex emotions swirled in his eyes, leaving Su Ximu unable to discern them for a moment.
After a moment of silence, Blue 242 did not mention anything about special treatment. Instead, he pulled out his own script and unfolded it. “Look, my script content is also very sparse.”
“The Wang Family Mansion is just the name of the estate. The real story it tells does not star us. Some actors who come from outside to temporarily experience the estate script for a few days—they call [Wang Family Mansion] [Deeply Secluded Courtyard].”
Su Ximu silently repeated the name in his mind. He seemed to understand a little.
In the mansion, what kind of people would see the estate as deeply secluded, as if they could never escape it in their lifetime?
Of course, it was not the young masters of the mansion, nor the old master. It was only the women.
The maids who sold themselves into the household, the wives who married in, the concubines who were taken in, the young misses who would eventually have to marry.
They were the true protagonists of [Deeply Secluded Courtyard].
As for the old master and the young masters, men’s ambitions lay in all directions under heaven. Their world was never confined to a small estate.
Su Ximu looked at the script. He recalled that yesterday’s script for him had written about the Wang Family Little Young Master’s experiences: [returned from studying abroad, went out to do business].
The roads he had traveled and the places he had been to were unimaginable—and forever unreachable—for his mother, sisters, and aunts.
Therefore, it was reasonable for him to have such a small role. It was not special treatment.
“Are the stories that happen in the Wang Family Mansion real? Like, like what Blue 242 Leader said before—that many estates here have original owners and were not entirely built by the new Park Chief.”
“Probably?” Blue 242 smiled. “There were even film crews that came here to shoot before.”
Su Ximu heard the answer and looked up at the green walls and gray tiles that had come into view not far away. He zoned out a little. “Then, what is the ending of the script?”
There should have already been actors who performed it before.
All the stories in the Tourist Garden were performed in endless cycles.
Blue 242 was truly an exceptionally good guide. He answered every question with a gentle tone. Many veteran employees, even if they wanted to curry favor with nepo kids, would not have his meticulous patience.
He should have known the answer to this question, but he could not quite recall it. So he lowered his gaze to his hands and carefully recalled for a good while before digging the story’s ending out from his distant memories. “The ending should be… let me think.”
It was that the Ninth Concubine suffered a wound infection, her fate unknown. The Sixth Concubine committed adultery and was sentenced to death by fire. One young master from the same clan passed away, so two maidservants from the mansion with compatible birth charts were selected for a yin marriage. The old master of the Wang Family felt that these successive events were too ominous. He listened to the master’s arrangements, married off his daughter early for good fortune, and at the same time took in the tenth concubine.
Blue 242’s tone was light and floating, devoid of any emotion.
From a bystander’s perspective, he made it clear: the story in the Wang Family Mansion began among the women and ended among the women. The old master seemed like a bystander, but in truth, he was the real culprit.
As he spoke, the sightseeing bus stopped a short distance from the estate.
Su Ximu and Blue 242 got off together.
On the way to their workstations, the ‘Little Young Master’ tripped on a roadside stone. Just as he was about to fall, he was steadied by the ‘eldest young master’ walking with him.
“Careful.”
After steadying himself, Su Ximu smiled at the man who had helped him. “Thanks, brother.”
The man’s eyes shimmered as he held him up. “No need to thank me~”
The young man straightened up and continued walking forward. He pursed his lips, lagged half a step behind, and quietly rubbed his ear.
To make it in time for his morning breakfast scene, Su Ximu woke very early. When the two arrived at the Wang Family Mansion and entered the main hall, only the two ‘maidservants’ were inside.
The script introduced that the Wang Family eldest young master was named [Wang Henian], the Wang Family Little Young Master was named [Wang Hexuan], and the Wang Family old master was named [Wang Songhe]—from the generation name in the family registry meaning longevity like pine and crane.
The old master’s wife was introduced in the script as [Wang Liushi].
The rest of the wives and concubines were probably numbered from two to nine. As for their names, even the old master of the Wang Family might not remember them clearly.
The Wang Family also had a young miss. The script said the family usually called her [A Yuan]. Since she was an unmarried girl, she ate in her own place and did not join the others.
As her brother, Wang Hexuan had not seen her in a long time.
The Wang Family rules were strict. If not for the old master’s fondness for the lively atmosphere of the whole family gathering, the concubines would not normally be allowed in the main hall to dine together.
During the wait, to stay in character, Su Ximu even forced a few more lines of conversation with Blue 242 Leader.
The chat topics all fit the era background of the Wang Family Mansion, like business firms, or where there had been military unrest again, even touching slightly on the international situation.
If the old master and madam had arrived just a little later, they would have slipped up that day.
In no time, at the rosewood round table—aside from the Sixth Concubine who was under confinement—even the Ninth Concubine who had just entered yesterday was present.
The ‘Ninth Concubine’ was carried in on a soft chair by the servants. He still wore yesterday’s pair of red embroidered shoes on his feet, but the color looked much darker than yesterday.
A circle of white cloth was wrapped around his ankle, blood seeping through the cloth along with a strong herbal scent.
Su Ximu watched as Rao Fei was forcibly supported in offering tea to the ‘madam.’ He now knew that Rao Fei was playing one of the protagonists in this [Wang Family Courtyard] play: the Ninth Concubine.
The Ninth Concubine’s ending: wound infection, fate unknown.
Su Ximu sniffed. He glanced at Rao Fei’s foot again.
The women in the estate generally had wide skirt hems that covered their feet. But Rao Fei clearly did not fit. His height was at least 180 cm, and compared to the other aunts who did not show their feet, his feet were probably boat-sized.
The jacket and skirt he wore also looked ill-fitting.
As the ‘Ninth Concubine’ moved, more red seeped from his ankle.
The wounds on Rao Fei’s ankle were quite severe; even the lightest one exposed bone. With his movements that morning, the blood that had never fully stopped now gushed out again.
Mixed with the herbs, it formed a sickeningly fishy-sweet smell.
Su Ximu inhaled again. The hand hanging idly at his side unconsciously clenched tight.
What was that smell?
It felt familiar, but he could not place it.
Was it the smell of fake blood from the film crew?
His sixth sense and subconscious screamed wildly.
In the end, the young man looked up in bewilderment. For the first time, he forgot to consider that it was working hours and spoke to his most familiar Blue 242 Leader. “What is this smell?”
His clear, watery eyes grew somewhat unfocused. He tugged at Blue 242’s sleeve for help and asked again. “What is this smell?”
This was important.
As he asked, Rao Fei—who had been barely maintaining his tea-offering pose—suddenly gulped down all the scalding tea in the bowl. His whole body went rigid and tense.
In his mind, he bitterly found amusement: it was here, finally here. This Weird from Wealth Avenue that had sneaked into the C-Grade Instance was finally showing its true colors!
Weird creatures that suddenly attacked and killed players generally fell into two types.
One had no wind-up and struck directly.
The other was like now: suddenly showing abnormalities out of nowhere. The reason was most likely that a player had triggered some rule they did not fully understand. There was a chance that rule was a death rule.
From the day he became a player—living and dying in dungeons—yesterday’s foot-chopping aside, after being toyed with all night by an old Weird’s ‘jade feet,’ Rao Fei’s mental state was now in a peculiar condition.
Living was nice.
Dying was whatever.
This dungeon-crasher Weird had better take out the old master too when it snapped.
On the other side, Blue 242—now appealed to—looked at the hand grabbing his sleeve. His expression showed some satisfaction. He soothed in reply. “It’s blood. Forgot? Brother told you, the Ninth Concubine ended up with a wound infection. That’s blood from his wound.”
The bewildered young man nodded at his words and repeated to himself. “Yeah, Ninth Concubine got a wound infection, Sixth Concubine was burned to death, two maidservants got paired for yin marriage, the young miss married for good fortune.”
He was like a child who encountered a problem he could not solve. After repeating it, he stubbornly shook his head. “No, that’s not right.”
“What’s not right?” The ‘Little Young Master”s tone was both confused and stubborn. As the doting older brother, the ‘eldest young master”s good mood soured a bit. His expression turned pained.
“There’s blood. Someone’s bleeding.” Su Ximu lowered his head and picked at his fingers, using a lot of force.
Someone was bleeding. He should go save them.
But it was all fake. The blood was fake. Everyone was acting. No one needed saving.
Blue 242 gently steadied the young man’s shoulders and met his gaze directly. “There is blood, but it’s fake. Don’t think about it.”
“It’s fake?”
Blue 242’s tone was gentle but firm. “Fake. If you don’t believe me, look at the others. He can bleed too right now.”
At this moment, Blue 242 was like a new parent whose fallen child would not stop crying, so he decided to hit the floor instead.
As his words fell, Su Ximu halted his actions and slowly looked up.
Where his gaze landed, the old master—who had been sitting properly—began to show a deeper crimson stain from within his dark long jacket.
Yet he still sat upright. Aside from his eyes bulging wide as if they might split, there was no cry of pain, no struggle.
So, getting injured really was fake. There were probably blood packs inside the clothes.
