Chapter 65, Chapter Twelve: The Fantasy Mansion
[Having received my feather, you should at least tell me your name.]
That night, Gong Baidie stood in front of the mirror, looking at her new body.
The person in the mirror was completely unfamiliar to him; he never imagined that one day he could get rid of Wen Ting.
He abandoned the long hair she had given him, the features, figure, and clothes she had given him, and the endless hell that had imprisoned him with every stroke of her brush.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," the swallow urged impatiently. "I should know how to call you, shouldn't I?"
"Palace..." he began, then fell silent.
After a long while, he smiled at his new self in the mirror, "...Gong Feibai".
"My name is Gong Feibai."
He gave it up.
Every trace of her actions on him must be erased.
...
"My lady, don't worry, I have a way to ensure your safety. After you wake up, you only need to..."
His voice abruptly stopped, and the dream was abruptly cut off.
"My lady, my lady!" Gong Baidie frantically reached out, but failed to hold onto even a fragment of Wen Ting's consciousness.
A short-haired man in a suit appeared behind him, coldly staring at him: "What are you trying to do?"
As her last breath escaped from her fingertips, Gong Baidie slumped to the ground in despair.
He tilted his head, lost in thought, lifeless.
After a long pause, he spread his long, slender fingers, grabbed his face, and chuckled softly, his crimson lips moving between his pale fingers: "You won't let me talk, you won't let me talk, hehehe, you're scared now..."
Gong Feibai looked down indifferently at the man whose body was covered in beaded chains.
His red robe and hair were caught in the beaded chain, which was embedded in his flesh. He was entangled from head to toe, trapped in his own web, and the more he locked himself up, the tighter he became.
He smiled between the beaded necklace and his fingers: "Did you hear that? She doesn't care about Yun Heli or Qin Mu. No one but me will ever hurt her."
Gong Feibai remained silent as he stood there.
Gong Baidie, lying on the ground, turned around, her waist twisted as if it had been broken.
"What am I going to do?" The alluring phoenix eyes smiled, hidden between her fingers. "I'm going to help my wife solve her problems and tell her how to break the deadlock."
Gong Feibai finally laughed, looking at himself lying prostrate on the ground: "You pitiful fool. You think she'll believe you just because you said it? Let's make a bet. If she believes you and is willing to commit suicide just because of one sentence from you, then I'll go back to my cage forever."
"Haha, hahahaha, hahahaha..." Gong Baidie laughed loudly as she turned around to look back, her body covered in pearls trembling with laughter, her long hair shimmering with a watery black light.
Gong Feibai narrowed his eyes: "What are you laughing at?"
Why kill yourself?
Gong Baidie slumped down, his loose red robe and beaded necklace spilling onto the ground. He lay back, using his long hair as a pillow, looking up at Gong Feibai.
"You slut." He spoke abruptly, exhaling softly, "If she takes advantage of you, what backbone do you have left?"
Gong Feibai opened his eyes.
"Hahaha, hahahahahahaha—"
Where the golden light of the butterfly shone, the mad laughter of a madman echoed.
Gong Baidie collapsed to the ground, like a lump of decaying flower mud, rotting and dissolving into a wisp of red smoke that swept towards Gong Feibai, who was dressed in a suit and tie, and merged with him.
As the red smoke entered his body, a hint of a smile crept onto the man's icy face.
It's like a touch of red mixed into white, making it alluring and passionate.
He raised his hand and took off his black gloves.
The pale fingertips were stained with a dark red, emitting the bitter smell of medicinal wine.
Gong Baidie stuck out her tongue, put her finger in her lips, licked it clean, and savored it.
He had thought that she would at least feel sad and distressed for the golden hen that was still laying eggs.
He had been eagerly anticipating this game for so long, but he never expected that people could be so ruthless.
Even the deaths of Lian Yunhe and Qin Mu couldn't move her in the slightest, so what's the point of this game...?
...
After closing the incense burner, Gong Baidie looked at Wen Ting standing in front of her.
The woman tucked a stray hair behind her ear and gave him a hesitant smile.
"I'm sorry, Director, they're searching everyone's food downstairs. I really had nowhere to hide, so I borrowed your cabinet." She feigned insincere guilt. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you beforehand."
"It's alright," Gong Baidie said gently. "I understand your difficulties, don't worry about it."
His reaction was much better than Wen Ting had predicted.
The supervisor seemed alright today, which relieved her. "I'll need your help again later... It's not a good place to hide things, could I store them here temporarily?"
She wasn't worried at all about not being able to explain herself if something went missing from his warehouse.
Barefoot people aren't afraid of those wearing shoes, so he dared not make a fuss about it.
Gong Baidie readily agreed, "Please go ahead."
The conversation went too smoothly, and Wen Ting was still unsure about the new director's situation, so she decided to keep her distance, maintain a friendly relationship, and avoid making enemies.
"Then I'll go down first." She was about to leave when Gong Baidie called her back.
"Wen Ting."
"Hmm? Please go ahead."
The man looked at her, his eyes filled with obvious tenderness. "If you have any difficulties, you can come to me."
Wen Ting's eyes darkened slightly. "Alright, since you've come to me, I won't be polite."
She left the director's office and went downstairs after nine o'clock.
My phone vibrated; the OA system had issued a task, and my employee badge appeared around my neck.
The task was the same as always. She tried to take off her employee badge, but before it even reached her chin, she turned pale with pain.
A new day begins, and the atmosphere is even more somber than before.
The food shortage was like a death knell around everyone's necks.
Wen Ting completed the task first and submitted it to the OA system; then, while searching for clues, she also took the opportunity to socialize.
The rules in the manual are still the same few, there are no new discoveries, and no way to leave can be found.
Back in the lounge that evening, Wen Ting told herself not to rush.
These strange tales are very time-sensitive; a turning point might only occur at special times like the fifteenth of the lunar month or the full moon.
It wasn't all for naught. Today, Chaochao successfully entered the vegetable garden with her great enthusiasm and became a member of the vegetable planting team; DD was also regarded as a labor force and was recruited everywhere; and she also narrowed the distance between herself and Dong Si.
That offered some consolation.
Before going to bed, Wen Ting scrolled through today's group chat history, did her daily routine with her mobile phone lover, and then, having nothing else to do, fell asleep.
...
"village head……"
"Village chief, have you made up your mind?"
Wen Ting opened her eyes, and unexpectedly a round, dark red face appeared in front of her.
She composed herself and realized that a burly old woman was speaking to her, surrounded by many other people, all dressed in the stereotypical attire of farmers during the transition from the old to the new era.
The old woman grabbed her arm, her expression anxious: "What should we say? Village chief, have you made a decision?"
"Decide about what?" Wen Ting asked blankly.
"You've decided on the offerings for this time!"
Wen Ting looked around at the surrounding environment and then at the people around her.
Was it another dream?
Offerings, an old village, a village chief—these are classic elements of folk horror games, and she guesses the offering is a woman.
But she is also a woman. There has never been a female village chief in this type of game, and it is impossible for a woman to be a village chief in this era.
What a strange background.
Wen Ting tentatively asked, "What do you think?"
As soon as she finished speaking, the red-faced old woman clapped her hands anxiously, "What's there to discuss? Didn't we agree to use that old man from the Gong family!"
The old man from the Gong family?
Gong Baidie appeared in several dreams in a row, and Wen Ting asked uncertainly, "Gong Baidie?"
"Yes, think about it, his whole family is dead, he's all alone, he's gone crazy, there's no point in him living."
"The Gong family only has this one son left. Not only is he mentally unstable, but he also can't have children at his age. It's as if even God doesn't want this branch of the Gong family to survive."
"At this age?" Wen Ting asked in confusion, "How old is he again this year?"
"Oh my, I'll be twenty-three after the New Year."
Wen Ting, who is three years away from thirty-two: ...
It sounds like there are other options. Wen Ting asked, "Besides him, is there no one else?"
The villagers immediately showed expressions of strong disapproval: "Do you still want the priest to go?"
priest?
“This epidemic is indeed fierce, but no matter how anxious we are, there is no need to sacrifice priests.”
"Yes, village chief. Although he is a man, he is a priest after all."
"He is still young. If you give him a few more years, he will improve his skills."
Wen Ting gleaned information from the cacophony of voices.
In places where human sacrifices are performed, the priests should theoretically hold a supreme position, even higher than the village chief.
The village chief was even able to use the priest as a sacrifice, which made it sound like the priest had no ability or prestige.
A female village chief who only sacrifices men—is this a matriarchal worldview?
Wen Ting pondered, "Bring them both over, I'll take another look."
"Time is almost up, you'd better make a decision soon."
“Yes,” Wen Ting assured, “I’ll make a decision after I’ve looked into it.”
The two women went out, and Wen Ting looked around and found that the only place in the room to sit was on the kang (a heated brick bed).
She patted the dust off the mattress and sat down to wait.
A group of people huddled in the small room, chatting about something.
"Aside from the offerings, how are the other preparations going?" she started a conversation.
When the topic of sacrificial rites came up, the women chatted enthusiastically. Wen Ting listened attentively, and when the conversation reached a key point, she would ask a guiding question.
By the time the two offerings arrived, she had a general understanding of the current situation and felt confident.
The situation was pretty much as she had guessed; it was a typical horror folk tale setting, except that the genders were reversed and the men became the victims.
It's strange, why are all my recent weird dreams set in game backgrounds?
The first night was a "ghost bride," the second night was a "chase," and tonight it's another typical rural folk horror game.
Even if excessive mental stress caused frequent nightmares, why didn't she have nightmares with Western horror themes?
Now that things have come to this, these dreams are no ordinary nightmares.
The key question is why she completely forgets her dream when she wakes up, but can remember several nightmares after falling asleep?
Is something limiting her memory...?
"Village chief, the person has been brought!"
Just as Wen Ting had finished questioning the group of women, a rough female voice came in.
Accompanied by shouts as if shooing away dogs, the two women brought two men with them.
A splash of red was the first thing to break in.
His clothes were tattered, his hands were bound with rope, his hair was disheveled, and his head was hanging down, his hair obscuring his face.
Even without seeing his face, Wen Ting recognized him at a glance.
The previous dream ended abruptly; I woke up before I could even hear what Gong Baidie was saying.
Wen Ting clenched her fists, suppressing her eagerness. Tonight, she had to get the answer to leaving the ghost story from Gong Baidie no matter what!
The other man who was brought in was dressed in a flowing ceremonial robe, adorned with silver ornaments, animal teeth, and bird feathers, his dark attire embroidered with ancient amulets.
The one dressed in such solemn and dignified priest's robes was a boy of sixteen or seventeen.
The boy had a grayish complexion and dark green eyes like a lynx in the night.
As he entered, the women on both sides automatically made way for him, a subtle sign of respect.
"Village Chief." The boy bowed to Wen Ting.
Wen Ting was taken aback, and then pronounced his name: "A-Jia Ke".
This is the character she created in Green Forest, and it's also the death image she submitted in her OA today.
Recalling Yun Heli and Qin Mu from the previous two dreams, Wen Ting already had a premonition about Ajia Ke's fate.
But the worldview of Ajiake is definitely not that of a folk village.
Because he was a priest?
Because I drew a picture of him being burned to death on a cross, the dream was pieced together into this background story.
"Village chief, the person has arrived, please make your choice quickly," the red-faced old woman said anxiously.
"Yes, village chief, hurry up and make the election! Another day of delay and more people will die!"
Urged on by the crowd, Gong Baidie, who was bound by hemp rope, suddenly laughed.
"Hehe...hehehe..."
He staggered and trembled, his hair and tattered red clothes swaying wildly, and a wide-open eye peeking out from between his tangled hair.
Amidst the thick black hair, the large, bloodshot eyes startled the woman opposite him.
"Madman!" someone cursed in disgust.
He went completely mad, spinning around in place, his hair covering his face, his hands tied, and he pursed his lips and blew air, making his hair float up and fall down.
"Giggle, giggle..." He found it extremely amusing, laughing as he blew hard.
A-Jia-Ke coldly swept his gaze over him, then turned his attention to Wen-Ting.
The boy's clear green eyes were fixed on Wen Ting, his ears slightly red. The feelings of a young man were like a newly opened bud, trembling and fragile, which anyone could see.
Wen Ting raised her hand and pointed at him: "Tie him up."
His beautiful green eyes widened instantly, and the woman beside him exclaimed in disbelief, "Village Chief, Ajak...!"
“Using a madman as a sacrifice will anger the gods,” Wen Ting said. “As a priest, he is more effective than anyone else.”
The crowd exchanged bewildered glances. Wen Ting raised her voice, "Hurry up! People will die if we're too late! Don't you want to live?!"
As she said this, a woman grabbed Ah Jiake's shoulder.
He shrugged abruptly, staring at Wen Ting in shock: "Why!"
“I’m helping you, Ajak,” Wen Ting said in surprise. “Becoming a sacrifice will allow you to see the gods. Aren’t you happy?”
"I…"
"What are you going to say!" she suddenly shouted, her expression changing abruptly. "Look at your expression! You have no faith in the gods whatsoever! It's because our village has an unfilial priest that we've been punished by the gods!"
These words were like a wake-up call, shocking all the women in the room.
"Ah!" "So that's how it is..." "Damn man! How dare he disrespect God!"
"This kind of person is not fit to be a priest! Send him back to God's side so that God can reform him!"
A group of women angrily escorted A-Jia-Ke away.
His furious gaze was fixed on Wen Ting, but Wen Ting looked away, avoiding his eyes.
"Village chief, I'll take this madman back," the remaining woman said.
“Wait a minute,” Wen Ting said. “You go and prepare for the sacrifice. I’ll take him back in a bit.”
"But…"
Wen Ting waved her hand, "Go, go."
The woman responded and left.
Once Wen Ting was sure she was far away, she immediately closed the door tightly.
Gong Baidie was still standing there, drying her hair.
"Oh dear, my little darling." Wen Ting pulled him to sit on the kang (heated brick bed) and brushed aside the strand of hair that was blowing in the wind. "How did you end up looking like a fool this time?"
"Hehe, hehe..." Gong Baidie, who had parted her hair and revealed her face, smiled at her.
"Do you still recognize me?" Wen Ting asked anxiously, wanting to know the words he hadn't finished saying in the last dream.
Gong Baidie tilted her head and looked at her for a long time before happily saying, "You won't kill me, you love me."
Wen Ting sighed, "Has she really gone mad?"
Damn it, the crucial lead we finally got has been lost.
She scrutinized Gong Baidie with suspicion, but had no evidence to prove that he was faking his madness.
Upon closer examination, there is also no evidence to suggest that Gong Baidie truly exists or possesses any special abilities.
Ultimately, it was just a dream, and it might all be her own imagination.
"Madwoman..." Gong Baidie heard her muttering curse, and the joy on her face instantly turned into sorrow.
"I'm crazy...crazy, don't you love a crazy person?"
Tears welled up in her phoenix eyes in an instant, and were about to fall as she spoke.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Wen Ting quickly interrupted, “I didn’t say that.”
He looked doubtful and pitiful: "Then you love me?"
Wen Ting casually coaxed him, "Yes, I love you."
"You love me?" Gong Baidie on the kang (heated brick bed) suddenly brightened up, swinging her legs and giggling, "You love me? You love a madwoman!"
This is truly insane; you won't get anything out of them.
Wen Ting didn't regret replacing Gong Baidie with Ajia Ke.
Even if Gong Baidie can't provide useful information, based on the current situation, if we have to choose between the two, the obvious choice is to eliminate the influential Ajia Ke and keep the irrational fools.
With the priestess dead, no one could challenge the village chief's authority, and she could live as she pleased.
As for whether there's a way to ensure neither of them dies—
It's just a game character, and a low-revenue character at that.
She was too young then and didn't know what kind of roles would make money. She just kept her head down and painted, wasting a month or so on Ajak.
Yun Heli and Qin Mu have both died, so adding Ajia Ke wouldn't make much difference.
Gong Baidie on the kang kept making a racket, not only was she noisy, but she was also filthy.
Wen Ting couldn't bear to watch any longer, so she took a hair tie and tied his hair up, then found a towel to wipe his face. "Alright, little darling, be quiet, lift your head, and don't move."
His eyes crinkled into a smile, and he laughed sharply, "You love madmen! You love madmen! Hahahaha! You love a madman!"
He kept fidgeting, which annoyed Wen Ting. She removed the towel, looked at his dirty face, remembered who he was, and found it a little funny. "It's a pity I can't take screenshots or record videos. I really should show you what you look like now."
The playful Gong Baidie suddenly fell silent.
He hung his head, like a doll whose spring had run out of wind, all his joints limp and drooping, without uttering a sound.
"What's wrong?" Wen Ting squatted down and looked up at him.
The handsome man lowered his head, his features obscured by shadows.
As if possessed by a demon, he whispered, word by word, "Killing the priest will bring you retribution."
Thinking he was about to say something, Wen Ting sighed, "I've already suffered my retribution."
What kind of person would get caught up in a ghost story halfway through work?
She was still somewhat unwilling to give up, and looked at Gong Baidie's head with a troubled expression. "What's wrong with this head? I am the owner of this dream. Let me try to imagine it. Can you recover?"
Gong Baidie remained silent, slumping on the kang like a broken doll.
"Alright, never mind." Wen Ting sighed, "It's rare to see you like this, it's kind of cute."
She rubbed a towel in the basin, preparing to wipe him again, when she opened her eyes and was shocked to meet his gloomy and cold black eyes.
He stared at her expressionlessly, tilting his head to one side. After a while, he suddenly opened his mouth, revealing his upper and lower rows of teeth.
A strange laugh escaped from between his teeth.
He was gritting his teeth, he was trying to suppress a laugh, he was furious, he was joking.
The expression and laughter were so terrifying that Wen Ting couldn't help but take a half step back. Her back foot touched the ground, and the surrounding space distorted. She was momentarily dazed and found herself lying on a bed in the staff break room.
It was still dark, and the only light in the room was the warm glow of the bedside lamp.
This was the earliest Wen Ting had woken up since entering the world of ghost stories.
It was only three in the morning when she felt drowsy and turned over, falling asleep again.
She seemed to faintly smell the fragrance of snow orchids, cool and refreshing.
-----------------------
Author's Note: [BE 03: The Final Kick]
You made the right choice, but said unnecessary nonsense.
(The reason why Gong Baidie suddenly got angry here is hard to guess; it will be explained in Chapter 14.)
When he has a split personality, I use "Gong Feibai" and "Gong Baidie" to distinguish him. When he appears alone, he is always Gong Baidie.
It's just schizophrenia, not two people or two personalities; it's just pure madness.
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