Chapter 66, Chapter Thirteen: The Fantasy Mansion
"Sis, what are you doing?" Chaochao peeked out from the cubicle and looked at Wen Ting at her workstation.
Wen Ting stared at the drawing software on the screen, her hands moving non-stop: "This is the fourth time the same OA task has been issued. I plan to draw a few sketches in case there are any unexpected situations later and I don't have time to draw them. This will save me some time for brainstorming."
"They don't grade it, so feel free to touch it." Chaochao said nonchalantly, "I submitted a chibi-style line drawing yesterday, and nothing happened."
“I’m afraid it will be scored.” Wen Ting put down her pen and pondered. “The rules aren’t difficult. Apart from the death on the first day, no one else has had any accidents. Whether this is a malicious ghost story or a selection competition, it’s impossible to filter people out at this rate.”
The entire ghost story series is stagnant, with no new content, only daily pop-up tasks in the OA system.
The electronic screen in the lobby on the first floor displays the previous day's paintings every day.
“It must be useful,” Wen Ting thought. “Maybe, like KPIs, a ranking will be released at the end of the month or quarter, and the bottom few will be cut.”
As she spoke, she instructed the two of them, "You should also pay more attention to the painting."
DD nodded.
They all understood what "layoffs" meant here.
Chaochao had a different opinion. "Sister, I've been checking the OA system these past few days and I noticed the HR module is still there. What do you think would happen if I applied for 'resignation' on it?"
Wen Ting was taken aback.
“We can’t leave the company after ‘get off work’ because we have an employee lounge, and many employees stay in the company even after work. But if we ‘resign,’ there’s no reason for us to stay in the company anymore.” Chaochao tilted her head. “Aren’t we overthinking it? Maybe we can just submit a resignation application on the OA system and leave.”
Her words were like a pebble dropped into a lake, instantly clarifying DD's situation.
“That is indeed a possibility,” DD pondered. “I’ve seen similar rule-related strange tales, such as the railway strange tales, where you can leave by inserting your ticket into the ticket gate at the station; the shop strange tales, where you can leave by settling your bill; and the company strange tales, where you can leave after resigning… Logically, there’s nothing wrong with that. Since the rules in the employee handbook allow employees to take leave, then it should also allow employees to resign.”
Wen Ting simply couldn't understand how these two children could be so innocent and adorable. "So, which of you wants to give it a try?"
Chaochao volunteered, "I'll do it! I'll do it!"
"What are you saying!" Wen Ting tapped her head lightly with her pen. "That's right, after you leave the company you will disappear—do you think this 'disappearance' is more likely to mean leaving the ghost stories or dying?"
Chaochao was unconvinced. "I want to submit my resignation application on the OA system. Dead people can't apply on their own; only living people can apply. I have to be alive."
"If the company can't bother its employees after get off work, then it definitely can't bother me after I leave. Why should it interfere with my life!"
Her logic is quite self-consistent.
Wen Ting tapped her again, "This isn't a game, there's no way to restart it."
"But I think it makes perfect sense," Chaochao said, feeling wronged. "What if it's right?"
"What if it's wrong?" Wen Ting said seriously. "We can't afford to make mistakes. Chaochao, please don't spread this around. If someone tries it based on your advice and dies, can you bear the responsibility?"
Chaochao DD paused, and the glimmer of desire in his eyes completely vanished.
“However…” Wen Ting glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and muttered to herself, “What you said isn’t without merit.”
It's too early now, let's do it later.
If all else fails, you can find a rock to wade through the water.
Thinking of this, Wen Ting was startled, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She immediately said to Chaochao and DD, "Change your OA passwords immediately, the more complicated the better! Hurry!"
The two were a little stunned. After a moment of reaction, they exclaimed in astonishment, "No way..."
Every day, the default password is still LS123456. My phone automatically logs in every day and it's always there, never changed.
Like most employees, Wen Ting had changed her ways, but it was just her birthday.
This vulnerability is too big. While fixing it, DD said, "Should I remind everyone in the group to change their passwords?"
"Hey!" Wen Ting instinctively stopped her.
Meeting two pairs of clear eyes, she paused, then said in a low voice, "What's the difference between reminding everyone in the group and sowing discord? Food is scarce, and people are already panicking and conflicts have arisen these past two days. Bringing this up now is just adding fuel to the fire."
"But the password does indeed have significant vulnerabilities."
“I’ll do it,” she said, stopping him. “I’ll talk to the team leaders one by one in private. That way they’ll be more accepting, and we’ll also do them a favor.”
She has a point. Chaochao DD has always trusted the group leader, so he nodded and agreed.
Wen Ting changed the password, lowered her eyes slightly, and unconsciously rubbed her thumb against the lower right corner of the screen.
The chibi version of Gong Baidie rests her chin on her hand, blinking her big eyes as she looks at her.
Wen Ting put down her phone and confirmed with the two of them, "Is it all corrected?"
"alright."
"It's fixed, sis."
She emphasized again in a soft voice, "Our group is small and we can't contribute much. The password is a big plus, so don't tell anyone, even your close friends. I'll tell them. If everyone finds out from other people, we won't have the chance to build goodwill, understand?"
"Sis, you're so cunning," Chaochao said with a grin. "You must find playing otome games very easy."
“That’s right,” Wen Ting said with a smile, “I started out as a otaku.”
She picked up her pen again and continued sketching.
Chaochao didn't disturb her, and instead took DD to see the potatoes she had planted.
As she walked down the corridor, she sensed something was off: "It's so quiet."
DD looked at the glass walls on both sides and said, "They're all at their own workstations."
"What are they doing? Aren't they looking for clues anymore?"
“We’ve been searching for days, we’ve searched everywhere.” DD frowned. “It seems everyone thinks the only variable is that OA task.”
"This is ridiculous." Chaochao looked at the people slumped over their workstations, extremely puzzled. "Usually everyone complains about having too much work, but now that there's clearly no work, they're actually voluntarily working for some unknown tale."
“Every step in the task is necessary.” DD glanced at her. “Windy’s concerns are reasonable. Perhaps every image we submit will be scored, and at some point we will have to lay off a number of people.”
Whether you're a game industry professional or a corporate employee at a large company, this OA (Office Automation) task is definitely important and deserves your attention.
"Who cares?" Chaochao said nonchalantly. "In real life, you get severance pay when you're laid off. If I get laid off here, maybe the ghost stories will give me something in return—a ghost story commemorative badge? Or a monster cub that I can raise?"
“…” DD was speechless for a long time before replying, “Yeah, good mindset.”
Chaochao ignored him and scratched her neck. "This name tag strap is rubbing against my neck and it's making it itchy. I really want to take it off."
“It will hurt when you pick it, it doesn’t seem like a good thing.” DD pulled her restless hand down. “You should listen to Windy and be careful.”
"I've been listening, and I still haven't picked them." Chaochao felt oppressed by the working atmosphere in the offices on both sides, as if everyone in the classroom was studying while she was the only one skipping class.
She quickened her pace and urged DD, "Hurry up, hurry up, it's so embarrassing, we feel like they're all watching us."
DD quickened his pace slightly: "After I finish watering the plants with you, I also need to go back and think about the composition for tomorrow and the day after. Your foundation is weak, so it will be slower for you to draw. Think about it if you have time."
"Okay."
...
Wen Ting opened her eyes in her dream.
It was yesterday's village, and it was late at night.
She looked around at her surroundings. It was the village chief's courtyard, but unlike yesterday, the whole village was deserted.
Pushing open the courtyard gate, the old creaking sound echoed in the desolate night.
This is the fourth time I've had this dream, but it's the first time I've had consecutive dreams.
Every time Wen Ting enters a dream, she can recall some of the events from the previous dreams, but she completely forgets them when she wakes up in reality.
The dream began after I entered the world of ghost stories.
Could these dreams also be part of the ghost stories?
Thinking about it this way, there must be a connection between the death chart of the OA I submitted the day before appearing in my dreams and the dream... But why is there a Gong Baidie in every dream?
He has absolutely no connection with Green Forest, and his name is not on the role list specified in the OA task.
There are many possible reasons, but none of them are supported by evidence, so speculating is pointless.
As soon as I stepped out of the village chief's yard, I stepped on something.
Wen Ting lowered her head, her scream stuck in her throat.
A piece of pitch-black human bone was pressed under the ball of her foot.
She immediately pulled her leg back, grabbed the wooden door, and looked out along the bone.
A black skeleton lay against the courtyard wall, its hand reaching towards the door.
She walked shakily around the skeleton, her hands covered in fine particles. In the dim light, Wen Ting saw that her palms were covered in charcoal ash.
She turned around in astonishment and realized that the entire courtyard, from the gate to the outer wall, was blackened by fire.
The dark clouds parted, and the icy white moonlight illuminated the earth.
Countless corpses lay scattered across the fields, all burned to the bone.
This hellish scene made Wen Ting tremble and retreat.
She took a few steps back, then suddenly turned and fled.
What happened? What's wrong?
Was it the government that ordered the burning down of the village with the epidemic, or did the ritual backfire and harm the village?
None of that matters, it has nothing to do with her!
She ran towards the edge of the village, but the more she ran, the denser the skeletons became along the roadside.
She tried to keep her eyes focused straight ahead, not wanting to see those things, but a fleeting glance from the corner of her eye revealed boundless horror and sorrow.
She saw a large and a small skeleton nestled together, a skeleton crawling forward on the ground, a skeleton looking up and questioning the heavens... She didn't want to look! But these charred bones forced their way into her eyes.
New dark clouds drifted in, obscuring half of the moonlight.
Wen Ting slowly stopped and stared blankly at the village entrance.
At the village gate leading to the outside world, dozens of charred skeletons were piled up, forming a mound.
A boy sat crouching atop the black bones.
His grey skin blended into the night, and his green eyes, like will-o'-the-wisps in the night, were fixed on Wen Ting as she ran towards him.
Snap, snap...
He casually tossed three black pebbles—three charred finger bones.
“…Ajak.” Her throat tightened, and Wen Ting took a half step back.
The boy rose from the mound of bones.
He tossed the three finger bones upwards and caught them in his hand.
A ghostly green flame ignited from that fist, and when he released it, a pinch of black bone powder drifted down from between his fingers.
He stared intently at Wen Ting: "You created me, you know what abilities I have, yet you still dared to choose me as a sacrifice."
“I…” Wen Ting was covered in cold sweat.
She backed away, and the boy in front of her suddenly disappeared, her back slamming into a hard chest.
Wen Ting suddenly turned around, her green eyes almost touching hers.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, her voice trembling, “I’m sorry, Ajak, I thought those mortals couldn’t hurt you, that you would be alright.”
"Ha." The boy scoffed at the flimsy excuse, his deep, hateful voice falling on Wen Ting's ear, cold and dark, "I bleed too, I die just like if my head is chopped off—I am human too, Wen Ting."
Wen Ting's pupils suddenly contracted.
She glanced at the boy's handsome neck, her voice choked with guilt, "I was so naive, I'm so sorry, I'm really sorry..."
"It doesn't matter." The boy leaned close to her. "In the end, I wasn't hurt, so I can forgive you."
With a clang, he drew his sword from his waist and placed it in Wen Ting's hand. "Restore the ceremony to its proper place, and we'll call it even. How about it?"
The cold hilt of the knife made Wen Ting flinch: "The ceremony is back to normal?"
"Offer the original offerings to the gods."
"You mean... Gong Baidie? He's not dead?"
Ajak nodded.
Wen Ting composed herself. "And then... after killing him, you..." "We'll get married," the young man said matter-of-factly.
Wen Ting was taken aback.
"You're unwilling?" The boy interpreted her silence as dissatisfaction. "Fine, you can die in his place. I'll lock your soul away and turn your body into a puppet. We'll still get married."
What kind of game is this...?
"I... I didn't mean to." His face was too close, and Wen Ting turned her head away uncomfortably. "But you're too young... you're still a minor."
“Sixteen is an adult here,” the boy said coldly. “I have been an adult for more than three months.”
By turning her head, Wen Ting took a look at where she was at the village entrance.
Ajak saw through her little trick at a glance. "You can't get out. This village is the only place in the whole world. Your only choice is to depend on me or be killed by me."
"If you don't believe me, you can go out and see for yourself."
Wen Ting took two breaths, then turned her head. "No, that's not what I meant."
She looked down at the curved knife in her hand, the tip of the blade trembling along with her fingertips. "I only have this one choice, don't I?"
Ajak remained silent.
The air was mixed with a few dust particles, which were ash and bone fragments.
Wen Ting closed her eyes resignedly: "Take me to him."
"A wise choice." The boy turned and walked forward.
Wen Ting followed behind.
If dreams are also part of ghost stories, then dying in a dream might also be risky.
We need to be careful.
She followed Ajak to a dilapidated courtyard, where the character "宫" (palace) could be faintly discerned on the charred doorplate.
Passing through the front yard and the main house, Wen Ting saw Gong Baidie tied up in the backyard.
His hands were bound in front of him with straw rope, the ends of which were tied to the well's rocker. In the corner stood a withered plum tree.
Someone came over, and after looking at them for a moment with wide eyes, he jumped up happily, his eyes sparkling as he shouted at Wen Ting, "Love me! Love me! Love me!"
As he jumped, his hair and tattered clothes swayed up and down like jellyfish.
Ajak crossed his arms and leaned against the back door. "Let's get started."
Wen Ting spoke with difficulty: "Could you... excuse me for a moment and let me finish him off alone?"
Meeting Ajak's gaze, she quickly added, "I won't run away, I can't escape anyway."
Ajakli landed, turned around, and took a few steps back towards the door. "Don't keep me waiting too long."
Wen Ting carried the knife out and whispered to him, "Thank you."
The door closed, and she approached with a knife in her hand.
Gong Baidie, who had been beaming with joy, seemed to sense something, and stopped smiling, becoming quiet.
He stood by the well, staring at Wen Ting with his dark eyes.
Wen Ting pulled up his bound hands, used her back to block the window behind her, and wrote a word in his palm:
[kill]
Gong Baidie stared at her without changing her expression, still looking dazed.
Wen Ting sighed.
I was hoping we could join forces, but it seems he went mad in his dream this time too.
She pulled Gong Baidie over, making him turn his back to her, then raised her curved sword and gestured at his back a few times, finding it difficult to make a move.
Looking around, she found a wood-chopping knife in the backyard.
Wen Ting walked over and picked it up.
While she was picking up the knife, Gong Baidie turned around again and stared straight at her.
"Turn around!" Wen Ting grabbed his shoulders and pressed him against the well opening.
She tried using a machete a few times, and sure enough, the longer the machete, the stronger it was; it was much easier to handle.
It would be even more convenient if Chaochao had that long spear.
Gong Baidie was not happy about being pinned down on the well. He struggled and complained, "Let me go! Let me go!"
"Okay, okay." Wen Ting took two steps back.
She pulled on the straw rope binding his hands, examined its strength, and asked, "Have you tried to run away?"
"You can't escape, you can't escape!" Gong Baidie shook her head like a rattle drum. "The rope is strong!"
Wen Ting asked suspiciously, "Really? You can't break free?"
"Solid and solid!"
Still not believing it, and fearing something might go wrong, she rolled up the rope and pulled it hard from end to end.
It is indeed sturdy.
Having confirmed this, Wen Ting pulled Gong Baidie to sit down at the wellhead.
"Bai Die," she gently advised him in a kind voice, "looking at you now, there's no point in living."
"My family is gone, and the village has been burned to the ground."
Gong Baidie looked at Wen Ting with a blank expression, as if she didn't understand what she was saying.
"I really considered giving my life for yours," Wen Ting gripped the woodcutter's knife and scimitar tightly, "but if I die, who will care for you?"
"If no one brings you food, you'll starve to death in a few days."
"Although this is just a dream, it could very well be an extension of the ghost stories. I can't die in this dream."
"If I die here, my phone will be uncharged, 'Desktop Lover' won't run, and you'll still be buried with me."
Am I right?
Gong Baidie looked at her blankly.
After a moment, he smiled, his eyes crinkling. "Yes! Wen Ting is right!"
"Hmm," Wen Ting smiled, "Then can you do me a favor?"
"Help! Help!"
"Good boy." Wen Ting leaned forward, placing her hands, holding the knife, on his shoulders. "Bai Die, relax. Don't struggle no matter what I do, okay?"
Gong Baidie nodded and grinned foolishly: "Okay, okay!"
"Relax, relax..." Wen Ting felt the body under her hands slowly soften. When he relaxed to the point of slightly hunching over, she immediately pushed Gong Baidie, who was sitting at the well's edge, down with all her might!
Bang--!
The well water sloshed and splashed high.
The white butterfly fell downwards.
His field of vision narrowed, becoming only the size of a well.
As he immersed himself in the cool water, he gazed at the warm water above the well and smiled with relief.
That's right, that's right!
This is her...
He idly soaked in the water, his long hair and clothes billowing out like seaweed without duckweed, slowly swallowed by the deep well.
Suddenly, he heard a scream coming from the well.
The call of Wen Ting.
“Ajak, Ajak!” she cried out in terror.
The boy burst through the door, asking, "What's wrong?"
"He...he's a ghost!"
The boy raised an eyebrow, completely baffled by what Wen Ting was saying.
"Come quick!" Wen Ting exclaimed anxiously, jumping up and down. "I pushed him in, and he's laughing at me from underwater! He's a ghost, a monster! Throwing him into the well won't kill him!"
Ajak walked to the well.
Dark clouds obscured the moonlight, making the sky gloomy, and the well was even more pitch black.
He could only see the swaying red skirt and couldn't make out Gong Baidie's expression at all.
“No.” He frowned.
"Look there! Look there!" Wen Ting was so frightened she couldn't get up. "Look carefully!"
Ajak lay on the well opening and looked down.
When his entire head was sticking out of the well, he had a vague premonition of what was going to happen. He steadied himself, gripped the well opening tightly with both hands, and prevented himself from tilting forward.
The next moment, there was no unexpected thrust, only a slight burning pain.
The burning pain slowly spread, and something flowed out from the back of his head.
He looked back in disbelief.
Under the pale moonlight, Wen Ting raised her cleaver high and smashed it against the back of his head and neck.
Her pupils dilated, her gaze was fixed, but her facial features were strained, both ferocious and calm, without uttering a sound.
With two heavy cleavers, she then thrust the curved blade into the boy's back.
With her hands free, she gripped the machete with both, and, like pounding medicine, frantically and quietly smashed his neck.
One cut after another, my palms were slick with cold sweat.
Even after Ajak fell to the ground, Wen Ting did not let him go.
She knelt beside him, one hand gripping the hilt of the knife, the other grasping the back of the blade, holding the knife across his half-broken neck, pressing her entire weight down on it, one knee resting on the back of the blade.
Click, click, click...
She pressed down three times, as if chopping bone, and finally severed his entire head.
Blood was flowing everywhere, and Wen Ting stood up in a daze.
She took a few breaths, then rushed to the well, grabbed the crank handle, and gritted her teeth to start turning the pulley.
So heavy—
She gritted her teeth, struggled to turn around twice, and looked down to see that Gong Baidie's hands, which were bound by straw ropes, had already emerged from the water.
She quickly spun around twice more.
At this moment, water also came out of Gong Baidie's nose.
She couldn't turn anymore. Even though Gong Baidie's clothes were thin and tattered and didn't absorb much water, the weight of a man was still too much for Wen Ting to bear.
"White Butterfly, White Butterfly!" she shouted loudly, pressing down on the wheels.
There was no response, but she heard a slight coughing sound as if she was choking on water.
Okay, there's still some breath left, we can try to save him.
"Bai Die, listen to me, straighten your legs, put your feet on the well wall, and let your back press against the well wall as well."
"Are you ready?"
The coughing grew louder, and after a while, she heard sobbing.
Wen Ting pressed hard on the handlebars, tilted her head back, gritted her teeth, and said with utmost patience, "Be good, Butterfly. I'm a little... out of strength."
The crying grew louder, interspersed with muffled words: "Afraid...afraid."
"Are you scared? Then let's hurry up and come up, okay?" Wen Ting took a breath. "Once you come out, there will be two of you, so you won't be scared anymore."
The crying continued for a while, and then a moment later, a wronged response came from down the well: "Step, step, all done."
"Okay, that's great." Wen Ting gripped the slippery handle. "Straighten your body, imagine there's a road beneath your feet, and start taking steps, one step at a time, uphill. As you walk, we'll be out, okay?"
"...Slippery, I can't move..."
“I’ll help you from up here. Let’s count how many steps it takes to get through? Hmm… I guess it’s twenty steps. Our Xiaodie is really good, she can definitely get through twenty steps, right?”
"fifteen."
"You can walk out in fifteen steps? That's amazing, baby. Take one step and count, then let's see how many steps it is."
Wen Ting waited, and after a while, a muffled, trembling voice came from the well: "...one."
She immediately shook herself around.
"two."
The upward pull helped Gong Baidie complete that step, and he clearly gained confidence when he counted to two.
"three!"
Four, five, six, seven...
"fifteen!"
A wet head popped out of the well.
He tilted his head back and gave Wen Ting, who was rocking the wheel, a sweet smile mixed with youthful pride.
Wen Ting also smiled.
She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him out of the well.
The two of them fell to the ground together.
Gong Baidie felt the woman behind him breathing heavily with difficulty. Her fingertips touched his back, and her hands trembled from exerting too much force.
Before him lay Ajak, his body severed from his head.
Blood flowed all over the ground, diluted by the well water he brought out, but it also spread even more.
The boy's green eyes had lost their usual luster, becoming dull and gray. Gong Baidie stared at the head for a long time, and after a long while, she whispered, "Dead. He's dead."
After a long time, Wen Ting finally regained some strength.
She staggered to her feet and pulled Gong Baidie up with her blood-stained and water-soaked hands.
A wisp of cloud parted, letting in a sliver of light.
She brushed aside the wet hair stuck to his face, and a few strands of her own hair were also stuck to her face with blood.
“Yes, he’s dead.” She gasped for breath, then smiled with relief. “Luckily, he was human too; he would have died even if his head had been cut off.”
Gong Baidie looked up at her.
The water from his hair and the blood from her fingertips dripped down together.
“It’s still not safe,” she said. “We have to cremate him.”
-----------------------
A note from the author:
“I bleed too, I will die even if my head is cut off. I am a human being, Wen Ting.”
Wen Ting: Thank goodness, this is really good news.
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