Chapter 57, Chapter 4: The Fantasy Mansion
"My lady, it's past midnight, you really should rest."
Gong Baidie leaned against the screen, looking lost and worried.
The girl ignored him.
She was hunched over her drawing tablet, her increasingly thick glasses concealing her busy work.
"My wife..."
Gong Baidie brushed her hand over the transparent barrier, unperturbed by her indifference.
On the contrary, he was very happy that even if Wen Ting was busy, she would open the app to let him keep her company.
In the brief moments between her busy schedules, she would occasionally look up, touch his face, and exchange a few words with him, which was enough to soothe Gong Baidie's heart.
Unfortunately, the response he could offer was very limited.
His body and his words were all created by Wen Ting. How he walked, how he sat, how he breathed and blinked were all controlled by his wife. She never entrusted any of his clothes to anyone else.
In this vast world, few relationships between characters and creators are so close.
Gong Baidie leaned over the screen, wanting to get closer to Wen Ting and see clearly who she was drawing.
He was constantly afraid, afraid that his wife, who was working tirelessly through the night, would collapse from exhaustion, and also afraid that such a wonderful woman would be taken away by another character.
...
The moment she confirmed her choice of Qin Mu, everything was settled, and she had no more worries.
He was completely relieved: "I gave you a chance, Wen Ting."
What does this mean? Wen Ting's heart skipped a beat. Did he see through her opportunism by choosing the simple Qin Mu and the black and white print?
“I’m sorry, Director.” She bowed her head. “I’m really pressed for time. Could you give me a little more time? I’ll deliver a new one to you on Monday morning.”
He stopped looking at her and returned his gaze to the tablet, as if selecting something. "You can leave now."
"I'm so sorry." Wen Ting sighed inwardly, deciding to finish a high-quality version for him over the weekend.
The director ignored her, and Wen Ting hesitated before moving towards the door. "Then I'll be leaving now. Should I call the administration to check the office lights?"
I don't know if the administration is still there at this time.
The young man sat alone on the sofa, looking down at the tablet on his lap.
Wen Ting tried pressing the handle, and the previously locked door suddenly opened.
She wondered, was it stuck just now?
Ignoring the door, Wen Ting was startled by the scene outside.
The entire 13th floor was pitch black, the corridors were like abyssal passageways, without a single ray of light, except for the faint green glow of the emergency exit sign at the end.
"The power is out outside too," she told him. "The repairmen have already gone home at this time, and the power might not be back on for a while. Supervisor, why don't you go home first?"
go home……
Gong Baidie chewed on this word.
In her old home, she would spend a long time comparing how a chair should be arranged; she would even carefully examine a piece of scrap paper on his table, pondering whether it should be used to praise plum blossoms or lament the autumn.
She was so dedicated.
While she stayed up all night decorating their home, he urged her to rest, lamenting that he couldn't take care of the household chores for her.
ridiculous.
It's ridiculous that she spent so much effort decorating the house and dressing him up, only to receive a paltry 30,000 yuan in return.
She didn't feel like she was losing out when she signed the contract with Wanluo and sold them off completely.
Upon learning of Wen Ting's departure, Gong Baidie awoke from a nightmare. He hurriedly rose from his bed, intending to catch up with her, but bumped into something and was knocked back onto the bed.
Looking up, he saw an advertisement in his simple and clean home.
The gleaming gold buttons are embedded in the wall, with the prominent play button followed by the words "Click + Favorability".
Such buttons filled his world one after another, blocking his outstretched hand and his protruding head from her view.
Then, the world fell into deathly silence, and everything was destroyed in the darkness without light or sound.
“Going home…” He smiled faintly, “I don’t like going home. The thought of it makes me feel disgusted.”
Wen Ting: ...What are you annoyed about? Are you annoyed about having to climb out of your 800-square-meter bed every day?
If it's really 800 square meters, then it is indeed quite annoying.
It's a good thing he has that kind of face, otherwise these words would sound like those of a middle-aged married man who would rather sit in the garage after get off work than go home to see his wife and crying child.
If he wasn't going to leave, then fine. Wen Ting, having done her duty with politeness, lifted her foot to leave.
Someone's dead!!!
A piercing scream made Wen Ting's mind go blank.
This time, without the door blocking her view, she could clearly hear the sounds from downstairs.
Someone died.
Someone died?
Before me lay a dark, silent corridor, like the esophagus of some monster, waiting to swallow any creature that dared to enter. The 13th floor was eerily quiet, a silence made all the more unsettling by the chaos below.
"Director!" Wen Ting's scalp tingled as she approached the living person. "Did you hear that?"
Gong Baidie lowered her gaze and looked at the woman's feet that were touching her.
She was wearing single-layer shoes, and the bluish veins on the instep and the prominent ankle bones were visible.
These feet were only two inches away from Gong Baidie; two inches away were his own feet, clad in leather shoes.
The one-finger gap between the shoe opening and the trouser leg was completely filled with black socks, so that not a single bit was visible.
Gong Baidie twitched his ankle slightly, and a strong destructive urge arose within him, making him want to crush those delicate white feet, crush them until they were bloody and the bones were shattered, leaving trails of crimson blood with every step he took.
That scenery must be breathtaking.
The white butterfly under her left eye faintly emitted a red hue. Gong Baidie moved her toes, her breathing heavy.
“Director…” Suddenly, a tiny force adhered to his cuff.
He looked up abruptly and saw Wen Ting gently pinching his suit sleeve with her fingertips.
Her face was paler than her feet, with a hint of shock showing through.
"Shall we go down and take a look together?" Sensing fear, her voice was like a dandelion in the wind.
Gong Baidie narrowed her eyes.
She was trying to charm him again, attempting to seduce him with a few words.
For the past five years, every time he couldn't help but want to tear her apart, she would put on a pitiful act and cry and whine to him.
And he never learned his lesson, willingly and shamelessly showing her affection.
Ah, ah... She was so innocent, so pitiful, that he wished he could cut her heart and intestines out and devour her whole.
Wen Ting was genuinely a little scared.
Think about it carefully, how could a major internet company easily lose power? Even if there is a power outage, there should be emergency lighting.
Based on the commotion I just heard, could it be that our rivals hired KB agents to take down Green Forest?
The idea was outrageous, but she really did hear the words "someone is dead."
Wen Ting pleaded, "Shall we go down and take a look together?"
Gong Baidie's chest heaved twice. After a while, he lowered his eyelids, put down the tablet, and loosely embraced her.
"Don't be afraid," he said softly, trying to comfort him.
It's not time yet; she still needs to live well and enjoy the nightmare he created for her.
The cool fragrance of snow orchids enveloped Wen Ting.
His gloved hand rested lightly on her waist, about three or five centimeters away.
Nevertheless, being so close to a strange man should have made her uncomfortable, but Wen Ting not only didn't feel uncomfortable, she didn't even feel any sense of "reality".
This tall and handsome man had no sense of being alive, like a snowflake or a piece of paper next to her, with only the fragrance of snow orchids proving his existence.
Without instinct, she resisted and was led out of the office by Gong Baidie's arm around her waist.
The 13th floor was eerily quiet; Wen Ting could hear her own footsteps with every step she took.
Her footsteps were all alone.
Darkness engulfed the ever-sleepless building.
The lights are out, but thankfully the elevator is still working.
Gong Baidie raised her hand and pressed the elevator button with her black gloves.
A soft voice came from inside her arms, reminding her, "Taking the elevator isn't really a good idea. Let's take the stairs instead."
If there were really thugs, wouldn't they just be throwing themselves at people's faces?
Gong Baidie glanced at her and nodded.
He decisively abandoned the elevator, which was almost there, and headed for the stairs.
Wen Ting was surprised by his willingness to accept good advice.
After following for a couple of steps, she suddenly heard the new director gently advise, "Wen Ting, speak properly and stop always acting coquettish."
Wen Ting:?
Was her tone too affected?
"Okay." She'll be more careful next time, speaking more fluently to the director.
Seeing that Gong Baidie had opened the door to the stairwell, Wen Ting took out her phone to provide light.
Gong Baidie turned around and glanced at her. Wen Ting looked blank, then realized what was happening and quickened her pace, getting closer to him so he could see where he was going.
Gong Baidie instantly withdrew her gaze, concealing her mockery.
She is always like this, meticulous and thorough, giving people the illusion of deep affection and tenderness.
Wen Ting had no idea what he was thinking.
Her eyesight wasn't good; she had surgery when she was almost blind, but within two years, her vision deteriorated further, and she had to carefully watch the steps even with a flashlight.
As Wen Ting descended to the 12th floor where the character design team was located, she was about to step forward to open the door for her boss when Gong Baidie pushed the door open first and stood on the inside, holding the handle and waiting for her to come out.
"Thank you." Wen Ting was quite surprised.
He would ask someone to pull out a chair for him during meetings, but he was quite polite and considerate in private.
Gong Baidie smiled and said, "You're welcome."
He's used to being a jerk.
The first room after exiting the stairwell is the office of the character design team.
The first three groups are the oldest and most established groups, with a large number of members and intense competition. An urgent task was issued on the OA system today, and it's only just past midnight; there should still be people in one group.
Wen Ting raised her flashlight and shone it through the glass wall, and sure enough, she saw someone sitting in a seat.
"Hello." She pushed open the door and entered, recognizing the person in the seat, "Brother Ge?"
The office was dark, with only the monitors lit.
The man lowered his head and lay on the tablet in front of the dual monitors, as if he had fallen asleep from exhaustion.
"Brother Ge?" Wen Ting walked towards him, raised her hand to push him, but Gong Baidie beat her to it.
He came up from behind, squeezed between Wen Ting and Ge, and reached out to pull Ge's shoulder away before she could reach him.
The man leaned back in his chair without any resistance, making a heavy thud.
The dim light from the display screen illuminated his upper body, and Wen Ting's pupils contracted sharply. She covered her mouth and took a half step back.
The next moment, she collapsed to the ground.
Under the cold light of the electron beam, it is a skeleton.
The upper body is only a longitudinal section, with bones embedded in the dried, dark red flesh. The head is relatively intact, with the left eye gouged out and the right eyeball protruding. The surrounding skin tissue shows red burn marks, and the lower part faintly reveals the outline of the cheekbone.
The screen displays an unfinished drawing in Photoshop.
The young boy sat on a wooden chair, his limbs intact, but his upper body had been cut open, one eye had been gouged out, and the other eyeball was protruding.
That's exactly what Ge looks like!
There are signs of modification on the boy's heart, and it seems that Ge hasn't decided whether to remove it or keep it.
After a moment of extreme fear, Wen Ting pushed herself up and realized something was wrong.
There was no blood on the ground, and I didn't smell anything unusual.
This corpse is too gruesome, too artistic; it looks more like a model.
Gong Baidie lowered her eyes and saw her tremblingly reach out her hand, still wanting to touch the dead man.
He grasped her fingers, which were icy cold to the touch.
Even through her gloves, he could feel her coldness.
“He’s dead,” he said softly.
Wen Ting was stunned, "How could..." How could she have died like this?
“He’s dead,” Gong Baidie emphasized. “He’s already dead.”
Wen Ting's legs, which she had just straightened, buckled again.
This time, Gong Baidie held her hand, preventing her from falling to the ground.
Wen Ting steadied herself against his arm, and the muscles beneath his suit suddenly tensed.
Gong Baidie examined the fingers resting on her arm.
Her fingers were long and slender, and her nails weren't very pink—he knew she was anemic, but she had a layer of clear nail polish on, which made them sparkle and shine even in the slightest light.
I wonder if tearing off those nails would bring any color back to her pale fingers.
Wen Ting leaned against Gong Baidie, disregarding all etiquette between superiors and subordinates. There was a dead body right there, surrounded by darkness, and no one knew what the murderer was.
She gripped Gong Baidie's sleeve tightly while taking out her phone to call the group leader.
The call was not answered.
Wen Ting paused, staring at her phone which was now just a busy signal, her unease growing stronger.
She peered across the street. Group 2 was opposite Group 1, separated by two glass walls. Before she could see if anyone was inside, she heard heavy footsteps.
Someone's there!
Wen Ting was so frightened that her scalp tingled, and she hid under the table.
She pulled hard, dragging Gong Baidie down to squat under the table.
Gong Baidie frowned; there were two strands of hair on the floor tiles that she didn't know whose they were.
He turned away in disgust, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Wen Ting kneel down on all fours, her hand that had just touched him now pressed firmly to the floor.
He looked up and met Wen Ting's waist, hips and legs.
She lay face down on the ground, her lower back arched, and both legs facing him.
This is a rare sight.
Although they were husband and wife in name for seven years, they had never consummated their marriage. Wen Ting had always freely caressed his body, and he could not overstep the bounds in the slightest.
It's strange, but compared to the character she's created now, his body is rough and simple, yet she hasn't gotten tired of playing with him for seven years. She even takes the time to play with him in public meetings.
Do you enjoy watching him make a fool of himself...?
Wen Ting peeked out from behind her desk, and after taking two breaths, she saw a dark figure.
A person was strolling leisurely down the corridor.
The figure passed a group of offices, reached the end of the corridor, and bumped into the wall with a thud.
He stopped moving, his forehead pressed against the wall for a long while, then slowly turned around and swayed back, as if sleepwalking.
When the person turned around, Wen Ting recognized him—
“Mela!” she called as she got up.
Upon hearing the sound, the woman stopped and stood there blankly for a moment before turning to Wen Ting.
Wen Ting glanced around and, seeing no danger, quickly opened the door and waved to her.
Mela walked over slowly, and as she got closer, Wen Ting sensed something was wrong.
The other person looked at her, but their pupils were not focused, and they seemed dazed, tilting their head to stare at Wen Ting.
After watching for a while, the woman suddenly smiled and said, "Green tea bitch!"
Wen Ting:?
Mela pointed at her and giggled, "Green tea bitch, green tea bitch!"
Wen Ting:......
She turned to look at Gong Baidie, who had already gotten up from the ground, frowning as she took a folded handkerchief to wipe the dust off her clothes, completely ignoring Mela's strange shape.
"What's wrong, Mela?" Wen Ting stroked her arm. "What happened? What happened down there?"
Mela didn't react at all, just giggled strangely, a creepy laugh.
"madman."
A slightly cold voice interrupted Wen Ting's one-sided question. She turned to look at Gong Baidie, who patiently repeated, "She's gone mad."
Looking like this, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him crazy.
How could a perfectly healthy person suddenly become like this?
Wen Ting couldn't understand what had happened. The situation was beyond her ability to handle on her own, so she chose to call the police directly.
The call went unanswered.
Wen Ting was stunned. In disbelief, she dialed again, but all she got was an endless busy signal.
She tried calling emergency services, fire department, traffic police, and even 114 (police information center), but all of them were unreachable.
"How could this happen... how could this happen?" She held her phone, her palms slippery and cold.
The woman was still laughing, and that laughter made Wen Ting feel slightly irritated.
She looked at Gong Baidie, seeking help from the only person present who could communicate with her: "Director..."
Gong Baidie coldly watched her terrified and helpless face.
"Looks like they're trapped." He admired her expression. "It's probably not the same world anymore."
Wen Ting stared blankly: "...Huh?"
Even if what happened tonight was indeed bizarre, this statement is still too far-fetched.
She hesitated, suspecting that the overly young director was having a fit of adolescent delusions, but then she caught a glimpse of a look of smug satisfaction in the corner of his eye.
Bloodstained, yet smiling, with a sense of exhilarating satisfaction, as if a great revenge had been achieved.
"It's time to go." Gong Baidie slowly adjusted her cufflinks. "This place is full of corpses and lunatics."
"Green tea bitch, green tea bitch, hehehe."
Mela laughed appropriately, her laughter echoing for a long time in the silent, dark building.
A chill ran down Wen Ting's spine. She didn't follow Gong Baidie, and instinct compelled her to take two steps back.
Gong Baidie didn't wait for her and left on her own, disappearing into the dark corridor.
Wen Ting and Mela, who were left behind, were in the same room as the corpse on the chair. Gong Baidie was right; this place was full of either corpses or madmen.
What to do when the company experiences a power outage outside of working hours?
Leave the company.
What to do when a body is found in the company?
Leave the company.
What should you do if a colleague goes insane for unknown reasons?
Leave the company.
Wen Ting only has one thing to do now—
Leave the company.
She made a quick decision to abandon the erratic Mela and save herself first.
She went down the stairs, walked up two floors, and Wen Ting deeply regretted her momentary hesitation.
She should have stayed with the director; no matter how strange he was, he was still a living person. Now she was all alone.
Holding onto the stair railing, Wen Ting's mind was filled with Ge's corpse and the woman's sinister smile; her legs grew weaker with each step.
The stairwell was too dark, so to prevent herself from going to the underground, Wen Ting used her phone's light to check the floor signs every time she went down a floor.
Third floor, second floor, first floor—
She carefully exited through the security door. The lobby on the first floor was dimly lit, except for the electronic screen that never went out, which was still playing music.
With the glass door right in front of her, Wen Ting took two quick steps and, before stepping out, suddenly caught a very familiar reflection in the glass!
She turned her head sharply, and a familiar character was playing on the electronic screen behind her: Yun Heli.
A brand new illustration appears on the screen.
In the moonless and starless courtyard, countless crisscrossing red lines filled the screen, and at the center of the red lines hung Yunheli with her eyes closed and head bowed.
The aloof, ethereal immortal, like a puppet suspended on strings, died amidst the dense network of red threads.
Wen Ting's pupils suddenly contracted.
Just an hour ago, she submitted this death image to OA.
In the complete silence, she could only hear her own rapid breathing.
In an empty company building, who replaced the electronic screen?
She shouldn't keep thinking about it. Wen Ting turned around abruptly and rushed through the company gate.
All her doubts will be answered when it gets light; for now, she needs to leave this place.
The moment I stepped out the door, a slight dizziness surged up inside me.
Wen Ting opened her eyes and saw a small bedside lamp shining in front of her, emitting a warm and soothing light for sleep.
She stepped out of the company gate but ended up in the staff lounge.
Wen Ting even remembered that she stepped out of the building with her left foot, but when that foot landed, she was not on the sleepless Second Ring Road, but in the staff lounge where she had slept the night before!
The small room she had slept in for five years now felt completely unfamiliar, making her hair stand on end.
Clinging to the hope that "maybe I just misread it," Wen Ting pushed open the door to the lounge and ran downstairs again.
She went down the stairs, checked the first floor, and stepped out of the glass door.
Something has changed—
Before stepping out the door, she saw the horizontal screen's reflection on the glass.
At this moment, what is displayed in landscape mode is no longer the image of the crane crying in the clouds that she drew, but the images of the deaths of other characters.
The black and red color blocks stained the clean and transparent glass.
With a quick glance, before she could even see which character was in the picture, Wen Ting returned to the lounge after regaining her senses!
Looking at the familiar room, Wen Ting's hair stood on end.
She burst out of the room, not daring to stay there for even a moment longer, and took the elevator down.
It must be because she went downstairs the wrong way. This time, taking the elevator instead of the stairs will definitely be fine...
First floor, electronic horizontal screen, new death map, glass door.
lounge.
It's back again.
Wen Ting stood in front of the bed, stunned for a moment, then took out her phone and called each of her contacts one by one.
Beep beep beep, beep beep beep—
No one responded.
The bedside lamp was constantly on, and apart from that, there was not even the sound of wind, only the busy tone of a mobile phone.
After trying the forty-seventh number, Wen Ting could no longer hold on and ran upstairs like a madwoman, all the way to the 13th floor, heading towards the art director's office.
"Director, Director!" She raised her hand and knocked on the door, her voice trembling. "Director, are you still there! Director!"
At first, she didn't dare to speak loudly, afraid of attracting attention. But when she received no response, it felt as if she was the only person left in the entire building. The sense of panic gradually overwhelmed her. Even if it was a KB agent, Wen Ting desperately wanted to see a person, a living person.
"Director! Director, are you there! Director!"
The banging on the door sounded eerie and chilling in the night. Wen Ting's heart pounded. She turned around hastily and saw a green light from a safety sign at the end of the dark corridor behind her. The green light seemed to be getting farther and farther away, and even that faint light was about to abandon her.
There was no response from inside the door.
The terror nearly drove her mad, and with a determined effort, she tried to escape by taking the elevator from the 13th floor.
It's not a problem with the way you left, but rather with where you started? Since the director has already left, perhaps going down from the 13th floor would be a smooth way to leave!
The elevator doors closed, and she pressed the button for the first floor, but the elevator didn't descend.
The elevator car was stopped on this floor, and the number 13 was lit up in red, remaining motionless.
Wen Ting pressed "1" and the close button twice more. Suddenly, the overhead light flickered. She looked up at the flickering light, and when she looked down again, she screamed, "Ah!"
The gleaming elevator doors reflected Wen Ting and a disheveled corpse.
A white robe clung to Wen Ting's back, and her long, dark hair reached her ankles, obscuring her face and making it impossible to tell whether she was male or female, except for her pale, thin chin.
With Wen Ting's scream, the lights flashed once again.
The light disappeared, and after a brief period of darkness, the lights returned to a steady state.
The body had disappeared, leaving Wen Ting alone in the enclosed elevator.
Her breath trembled in the air.
The clock on the elevator display panel jumped one digit, from 00:23 to 00:24.
Clang.
The entire elevator car shook, and it descended awkwardly, much like an elevator from the last century.
As Wen Ting wished, it stopped on the first floor.
She walked stiffly toward the glass door.
As she passed by the electronic screen, her eyes stung from the intense red light.
Wen Ting glanced sideways; a smiling human head lay in a pool of blood in the center of the screen.
His feet were on his head, his hands at the bottom of the screen, and his body was scattered in pieces, with scarlet blood covering the entire screen.
That was one of the characters Wen Ting had designed, and one of the characters she presented at the meeting today.
Just one glance at the screen and Wen Ting felt her eyes turn bloodshot.
She stiffly straightened her gaze and focused on the exit.
The glass door was illuminated blood red by the screen, and the crack in the door corresponded precisely to that laughing head.
She took a step forward, and the sensor door split open from both sides, cleaving the head in two.
My front foot passed through the smiling faces, and only after stepping out did I return to the lounge.
Thump...
Wen Ting collapsed to the ground.
She crossed her arms, her mind a jumbled mess.
What happened? What exactly happened?
Has she gone mad?
Has she finally gone mad from drawing? Spending more time in the world of anime and manga than in the real world every day has caused her brain to become confused and forget what the real world is like.
Yes, that's possible. Maybe the brain is just too tired... It's not uncommon for people in this industry to get mental illnesses, so there's no need to make a fuss about it.
Wen Ting shivered as she threw off the covers, lay down on the bed, pulled the covers over her head, and forced herself to sleep.
Just rest for a bit, and you'll be fine when you wake up.
When she woke up, the first thing she did was ask for leave to go to the hospital.
She promised that she would go to bed before midnight every day and only work or study for thirteen hours a day.
Life is more important; she will never be greedy again…
The smell of the bedding enveloped her; the company's blankets were rarely sunned and mostly dried in dryers, leaving a slight odor over the years.
With this oppressive smell, after an unknown amount of time, Wen Ting drifted off to sleep, hoping to wake up and return to normal.
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