Chapter 60, Chapter Seven: The Fantasy Building
"Um……"
Wen Ting felt both hot and cold, and her body was sweating profusely, making her feel stuffy and uncomfortable.
She was weighed down by a thick quilt, which was occasionally lifted up to let in a draft.
Her sweaty body touched the cool breeze, making her shiver. She clutched the blanket and shrank further inside, but after a while, she got sweaty again and pulled the blanket off, only to be chilled once more by the draft that let in.
This cycle continued until she finally couldn't sleep anymore.
Wen Ting opened her eyes a crack and barely saw anything before she was startled awake.
The scene was entirely red, dark and gloomy.
The red candles lit in the distance did not illuminate the room; instead, they cast a dim, old-fashioned gloom over everything in the room.
She came back, back to that forcibly pieced-together picture of a bridal chamber filled with dismembered remains.
Through the openwork of the canopy bed railing, Wen Ting glimpsed the red paper with the character "囍" pasted on the window in the distance. The two "喜" characters were slightly crooked, and there seemed to be a break in the middle.
The large room was lit by only one red candle. It was pitch black outside the window, and there was a faint musty smell in the air.
Wen Ting was stunned.
I was stunned for a moment, and then a little scared.
This is practically a classic scene from a domestically produced folk horror game.
Its body was abnormally red, extremely dark in color, without any luster, and had a blood-soaked feel.
Families with such large canopy beds wouldn't be unable to afford bright red, but the bed sheets, covers, and curtains here are all dark and black, and in some places they have faded.
She was encased in these dark reds, like amber formed from congealed blood.
Squeak—
The door was pushed open with a sickeningly old sound that sent chills down my spine in the night.
Someone came in from outside the door, carrying an oil lamp, and dressed entirely in red.
He moved around the room without making a sound, only the slight rustling of his clothes.
Wen Ting hugged the quilt, holding her breath. Her view was blocked by the bed frame of the canopy bed, and she could only see the lower half of the person's body.
He walked very lightly, and with each step, his shoes peeked out of his red dress by the same amount of space, as precise as if they were programmed.
Forgetting to marvel at his gait, Wen Ting felt that this perspective was increasingly resembling a horror game.
As she expected, the woman in the red dress wandered around the room for a while, then suddenly stopped and headed towards the canopy bed.
We've been discovered!
With its layered design, the canopy bed offers no hiding place whatsoever.
Wen Ting looked around and suddenly felt a leather bag on her waist.
It contained the dagger given to it by the leader of the fourth action team.
Wen Ting pulled out the dagger, which was unsealed and could only be used as a rolling pin.
Not being able to move freely in bed, she quietly got out of bed, turned sideways and hid behind the drawn curtains, keeping a close watch on the approaching red figure.
Theoretically speaking, ghosts exist in a quantum form, so physical attacks are ineffective.
However, in domestically produced horror folk games, physical exorcism is usually effective.
Her legs went weak, and Wen Ting's palms were sweating as she gripped the dagger.
The red figure gradually approached, getting closer and closer. The moment it appeared in her field of vision beyond the bed curtains, Wen Ting suddenly raised her dagger and smashed it towards the side of the other person's neck.
Hit!
The ghost let out a muffled groan and collapsed. Wen Ting turned and ran, but her legs were grabbed by the ghost lying on the ground.
"Ah!" she screamed, using the dagger as an ice pick to frantically chisel at the thing holding her leg.
After a few frantic thrusts, she heard a call from beneath her: "My mistress..."
Her hand, holding the dagger, froze in mid-air. The familiar voice brought Wen Ting back to her senses. Her hair disheveled, she looked down and finally saw what the ghost looked like.
Gong Baidie, dressed in a wedding gown, sat diagonally on the ground, hugging her leg, and staring up at her in a daze.
His eyebrows and eyes were exquisite, his lips were adorned with lip rouge, and he was dressed in full makeup. Even the white butterflies under his eyes were dusted with gold powder, which shimmered under the flickering lights.
His neatly combed hair was disheveled by Wen Ting with a dagger. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a pitiful, bewildered gaze.
It wasn't a ghost. Wen Ting suddenly felt weak, dropped the dagger, and collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
"My lady." Gong Baidie leaned forward and stroked her sweat-dampened hair. "What happened?"
Wen Ting shook her head, panting, and noticed that the hem of her wedding dress had come undone in the fight. She pointed at it and said, "Look at your injuries." She had used all her strength just now.
Gong Baidie turned her head and glanced at the loose clothes.
He tore off his waist sash, and the dark wedding robes fell in layers, lying on the ground like a blooming peony.
Although Wen Ting's touches didn't break the skin through her clothes, they did cause bruising.
Several reddish-purple marks on her pale skin were shocking. Wen Ting quickly apologized, "I'm so sorry, I thought it was a ghost. Do you have any medicine? I'll apply it for you."
"A ghost?" Gong Baidie tilted her head, and the pearl chain on her crimson-gold crown swayed and tilted.
He grinned, his lips adorned with glossy lipstick.
"How does my wife know I'm not a ghost?"
Wen Ting froze.
Seeing her reaction, the man shuddered and chuckled softly. It was clearly just a joke.
He picked up the dagger that had fallen to the ground, held it by both ends, and returned it to Wen Ting.
Wen Ting's eyelids twitched; the gesture seemed familiar, as if she'd seen it somewhere before...
By the way, this was the same posture the director used when he gave her the stylus on the first night.
"Th-thank you." Her mind was a little confused, and Wen Ting subconsciously took the dagger.
She opened the leather bag, intending to put the dagger away, but Gong Baidie in front of her hadn't finished dressing and was touching the red mark on her collarbone.
He pressed down and let out a sigh.
"Does it hurt..." Wen Ting asked apologetically.
“No,” the man smiled, his eyes crinkling into a smile, his made-up eyes long and alluring. He rubbed the bruise on his face, staring intently at her. “Bai Die likes it very much.”
Wen Ting felt a chill run down her spine from the stare, and the dagger she should have put away suddenly gripped her hand.
Following her movements, Gong Baidie also looked at her hand that was tightly gripping the dagger.
He exhaled a sticky, hot breath, bent over and knelt down, saying, "I have disturbed my wife, please punish me."
Wen Ting opened her eyes wide and stood there stunned.
The faint musty smell in the air was covered by the rich fragrance of snow orchids. He took off his clothes, and the scent of snow orchids spread everywhere, completely overpowering the other smells in the room.
Confused by the unexpected reaction, Gong Baidie looked up in confusion.
He thought for a moment, then changed his posture, supporting himself with his arms behind him and straightening his upper body.
The man's strong pectoral muscles undulated slightly, his lower back was tucked in, and his smooth abdominal muscles were clearly visible.
He licked the rouge off his lips with the tip of his tongue and put on a fawning smile, "Please teach my wife a lesson."
Wen Ting's hand trembled so much that she almost dropped the dagger.
It's one thing for other roles—she wasn't the copywriter or planner, so she wasn't familiar with the specific character settings—but Gong Baidie shouldn't be like this.
Although Wanluo released a few explicit Palace White Butterfly cards after she left.
Wen Ting could understand.
She was at the peak of Gong Baidie's career, when his story had ended six months prior and was already showing signs of decline.
After Wen Ting left, Gong Baidie's popularity plummeted after the story ended. Wan Luo managed to revive her popularity by selling sex appeal, but it was only a drop in the ocean.
Even during his time selling his body, he never exhibited such... vulgarity.
That lewd and decadent posture made Wen Ting frown.
It's common for character settings to change. The character Gong Baidie was created seven years ago, and she left more than five years ago. It's unknown how many times the illustrator, writer, and planner took over her role.
“You…” After signing that buyout contract, taking the money and leaving, he had little to do with her anymore.
"Don't do this." She helped him pick up his clothes, wanting to say something more, but having no right to do so.
Gong Baidie took the hand that was helping him dress, "Aren't you going to punish me?"
Wen Ting shook her head.
"You are so gentle."
He raised his eyebrows and smiled alluringly, which stirred the butterfly patterns on his face, reflecting glimmers of golden light.
Just as Wen Ting was about to ask him why he was there, the gentle and charming man suddenly looked up.
Red pounced on her.
Wen Ting's head hit the bed, her vision went black, and her neck felt cold. Before she could recover from the dizziness of the impact, her neck was forcefully gripped by icy hands.
A chilling breath brushed against her ear. "You always carry a dagger, but you won't let me use it. Who are you planning to use it on? Hmm?"
Wen Ting struggled with her head tilted back, struggling to breathe as she was being choked.
Before she could recover from Gong Baidie's sudden change in expression, he grabbed her by the neck and dragged her out of the canopy bed.
His wedding robes trailed on the ground, like blood flowing from his body, trickling across the floor with each step.
He was incredibly strong; he grabbed her by the neck and led her to the window.
Bang--
The window with the crooked "囍" character pasted on it was knocked open by a cold wind.
He threw her onto the windowsill and pinned her down from behind.
"Is it him?"
A cold arm wrapped around Wen Ting's waist and abdomen, while the other hand pinched her chin, forcing her to look ahead.
The scene outside the window caused Wen Ting's pupils to shrink sharply, and she even forgot to struggle.
Dark clouds obscured the moon, and within the inner courtyard, a dense network of red lines stretched out in all directions.
Amidst the crisscrossing red lines, a figure in black and white can be seen.
He was cut and pierced by the red thread, his head hung low, and his long silver hair was tied up in a single strand, fluttering in the cold night wind.
The dim moonlight obscured the man's face, but Wen Ting recognized him nonetheless.
The cry of the crane in the clouds.
This scene is exactly like the death map of her first OA submission!
"You want to use it on him?" The tip of my ear was touched by a cool, sticky substance, which stung a little.
The man's voice, mingled with saliva, flowed into her ear canal, "He's so handsome, younger than me, more noble than me, even his hair looks like it's made of silver. Isn't it?"
But he's dead—
“He’s dead,” he said innocently and worriedly. “Do you still want him?”
Wen Ting opened her mouth in a daze, but before she could even move her lips, her jaw was suddenly gripped tightly.
“Indeed,” a cool breath brushed against Wen Ting’s earlobe, and the man behind her chuckled, “Even in death, he was so beautiful.”
He truly hated it; he hated it to the core.
"Then let him serve you nearby."
As her phoenix eyes darted around, the crane, which was fixed to the red line, began to move.
He stiffly raised his head, his neck stiffened, and the red line blocking his head immediately sliced off a small piece of his head.
Unaware of Yun Heli's cries, he turned blankly toward the window.
The courtyard was covered with red lines, and with just one turn, his body was cut into countless pieces like cheese.
Pat pat...
A handsome, ethereal silver-haired beauty walked in expressionlessly. With each step, his body was slashed open by crisscrossing red lines. In less than five steps, he was cut in half at the waist by the red lines, and his upper body fell down. During the fall, he was cut into pieces by more red lines.
The broken pieces that fell to the ground wriggled and rolled toward the window; each piece was a creation of Wen Ting's pen.
The horrifying scene made Wen Ting want to faint.
She was trembling uncontrollably, and the hand that was wrapped around her waist slowly moved down and found her hand.
"Why are you shaking so badly?" Gong Baidie smiled, wrapping her fingers around Wen Ting's five fingers and helping her hold the dagger.
"Feeling sorry for you?"
He curled her fingers, but she trembled and let go. Gong Baidie caught the slipping dagger with lightning speed and patiently helped her hold it again.
"You even have to beg me to do this?" He raised his lips, his tongue forcefully tracing the veins on the side of her neck. "Hehehe... Alright, I'll help you."
Yun Heli's head rolled out of the window.
Gong Baidie raised her hand, and the head flew to the window.
It was covered in dust and its appearance was completely altered by the red lines.
Gong Baidie gently lifted Wen Ting's hand, coaxing her like a baby: "Raise your hand."
"pay close attention."
"Stab it."
Wen Ting was completely powerless and watched helplessly as Gong Baidie grabbed her hand and stabbed the dagger into Yun Heli's head.
The unopened blunt weapon, upon impact, sliced through iron like mud, easily splitting Yun Heli's head in two.
The skull split open from under the knife, and red and white brain matter spilled all over the ground. The two halves of the head fell from mid-air, like a smashed watermelon.
The dismembered body parts outside were still wriggling and rolling towards Wen Ting, while the red candles inside flickered with a depressing red light.
Wen Ting's eyes rolled back, and she completely fainted.
Gong Baidie caught the soft female body.
Holding Wen Ting in his arms and looking at her pale face, he didn't feel as happy as he had imagined; he felt like something was missing.
What's missing?
Gong Baidie lowered her eyes and glanced at the dagger lying on the ground.
He suddenly realized what was happening, grabbed Wen Ting's hand, wrapped her fingers around the dagger, and pointed the gleaming tip at his forehead.
Controlling Wen Ting's hand, he plunged the dagger into her forehead.
Gong Baidie breathed a long sigh of relief.
Feeling the coolness of the metal penetrating his brain, an indescribable pleasure coursed through him from beginning to end. This intense ecstasy caused his eyes to roll back, saliva to spill out, and his whole body to convulse and sigh with pure bliss.
The moonlight was cold and eerie, and the dilapidated old doors and windows wailed and howled in the wind, with a crimson glow both inside and outside the windows.
In the dim light of time, the man in wedding attire knelt on the ground, laughing wildly. He held the woman's hand and plunged the dagger into her forehead again and again.
That's right, that's correct.
It's only fair that he should get a share of what others have.
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