Chapter 81, Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Fantasy Mansion
After closing the toilet stall door, Wen Ting tried to remove her employee ID card.
Five days have passed since the second assessment day.
The building had never been so quiet; it was so quiet that even breathing sounded jarring.
The moment the blue name tag strap was pulled up, a sharp tearing sensation caused Wen Ting to break out in a cold sweat.
Everyone is dead.
Five days ago, she was carried by Gong Baidie through the dense thickets of gray cocoons.
Each cocoon contains a person; the swirling, rope-like wisps of gray smoke crisscross the interior, transforming the company into the nest of a giant insect.
Of all the ghost stories, she is the only one still alive today.
No one bothered her anymore, and she didn't need to be on guard against anyone, but being in a world without living people, Wen Ting would occasionally feel a chill down her spine.
The pain intensified, and she tugged at her employee badge, focusing her attention on Feyns.
Wen Ting's mind was once filled with plans to kill Gong Baidie. It was probably because Gong Baidie's human form had numbed her vision, making her, like DD, believe that he would always find a way to defeat her.
But as 61 people died in an instant, Wen Ting realized in despair that she could not possibly kill him.
There was absolutely no chance of winning against Gong Baidie, but she couldn't give up until the very last moment.
The stronger the enemy, the more power she needs, and the more amulets she has, the better.
However, the cost of acquiring the skill far exceeded what Wen Ting could afford.
She never showed it, but she was actually a little afraid of pain.
From a young age, her elders said she had the body of a princess but the fate of a maid. She would get injured or sick from doing even the slightest work. Even if someone bumped into her elbow while she was eating, she would get a big bruise the next day. She was practically the body of the princess and the pea.
She had this kind of constitution, but being born in the countryside meant she had to cut grass, feed pigs, cook, and help take care of two younger siblings. Her delicate body was not doing her any good.
Wen Ting tried to turn the name tag to the other side, looking for a less painful path; however, as soon as she pulled the name tag, a sharp pain made her let go.
She clutched her neck, still shaken. The sudden turn felt like she had twisted a cervical vertebra; she could almost hear the cracking sound of the bones turning.
Why does it hurt so much...?
Wen Ting lowered her head, her body drenched in cold sweat. The employee badge on her chest was about the size of a palm, with her name and job title written on it, along with a two-inch photo.
As I looked at the photos, I felt a strange sense of disorientation.
She was just 23 when the photo was taken, the same age as Gong Baidie.
Wanlu's first job was at a small company with only a few employees. Nobody paid attention to her attire, so when she took this onboarding photo, she looked unsophisticated and her eyes were tired, but she was still young after all.
Youth is Wen Ting's greatest asset since graduation.
That year, she was kicked out by Wan Luo, and her love life was also terrible. She had to look for a job and move at the same time. Surprisingly, the photos taken under such circumstances did not show her as being too decadent.
It was a very embarrassing experience, but when recalling that period, Wen Ting only remembers the excitement and determination she felt when she joined Green Forest.
What if it were now?
She had already gained some fame and accumulated savings. Now that she's been fired by Green Forest, how will she react?
Wen Ting was momentarily bewildered.
She racked her brains for names of companies in the industry, only to realize that none of them would hire her. Her qualifications weren't good enough to be parachuted into a team leader position, and being a junior illustrator seemed superfluous.
As a last resort, should I go to a second- or third-rate company?
No, an immature company is a mess, and she would never repeat Wan Luo's experience.
Five years ago, she could say that she could support herself by taking on freelance writing, but five years later, in today's world where AI is rampant, she no longer has that confidence.
The fingers gripping the employee badge tightened.
She can't take this sign off, she can't leave this place.
The lingering pain hadn't subsided, so Wen Ting tried again.
Better a short pain than a long one, she closed her eyes and pulled the employee badge down to her chin in one go.
Suddenly everything went black, and Wen Ting collapsed to the ground.
She could no longer tell if it was pain or cold; the sudden jolt to the top of her head left her unable to open her eyes for a long time.
After resting on the ground for five or six minutes, Wen Ting finally stood up, drenched in cold sweat, leaning against the wall.
She staggered to the stall, stood in front of the sink, and paused for a moment when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
His face was deathly pale, like a water ghost, with bluish-black cheeks, cold sweat covering his forehead, and a few strands of hair soaked with sweat and sticking to his face in a muddy mess.
I wonder if the nurse tearing open my vagina during a natural birth felt as painful as I did just now.
Wen Ting was extremely grateful for Gong Baidie's matriarchal male pregnancy setting, since there were no condoms or birth control pills available for her here.
Once the water from the tap got warm, Wen Ting scooped up a handful of water, bent down, and washed her face, trying to wash away the deathly pale look.
Looking up, a man's face appeared in the mirror.
"Why do you look so pale?"
"Heh!" Wen Ting was so startled that she stumbled, but was caught by Gong Baidie behind her.
The name tag swayed as she moved, the straps rubbing against her skin, giving Wen Ting the illusion that her neck was being tied with a rope.
"When...did you get here?" She suppressed her breathing, controlling the rhythm of her breath.
"Just now." Gong Baidie lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on the slender nape of her neck, and helped her stop the swaying employee badge.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Wen Ting swallowed and slowly straightened up.
She turned her back to him, rubbing her temples to shield her eyes from his gaze in the mirror.
"I'm sorry... thinking about those people still makes me a little... a little scared. Lately, every little thing makes me feel like they've come back..."
Gong Baidie smiled gently.
He embraced Wen Ting's waist, his gloves melting away the moment they touched her.
“No,” he said, lowering his head to kiss the corner of her lips, “they’re gone, they’ll never be in our world again.”
The faucet wasn't turned off properly, and water dripped and dripped, echoing in the deserted building.
“Forever…” Wen Ting murmured, repeating his words.
"Stop thinking about them, Wen Ting." Gong Baidie nibbled on her earlobe, grinding her teeth restlessly, her voice soft and sweet. "Back to the office? Or, do you like it here?"
That earlobe seemed to have become his possession; the thick, sticky saliva seemed to be climbing up his ear and flooding into his brain.
She glanced at the mirror, where Gong Baidie grinned, her expression strangely pleased. Her usually aloof and noble face was flushed with a blush of spring fever, and even the shape of her phoenix eyes seemed to have changed, with the corners turned up, making them look gorgeous and alluring.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
She shivered involuntarily, reached out to turn off the tap, and slipped out of his embrace.
"Hmm?" He squinted, his tongue brushing against his teeth, still wanting more, his casual nasal tone filled with intense desire. "You want to go back?"
Wen Ting wondered if her pale complexion was related to her recent indulgence in sex.
Not only Wen Ting, but also invisible shadows flew around behind Gong Baidie.
Yanzi glared angrily at Gong Baidie.
It only knew he was crazy, but it never expected that with a single glance, the entire ghost story would vanish! Everyone had gone out!
Ah!!! What a reckless bastard! What's the difference between him and [the world's henchmen]?!
That damn madman! He didn't even last as long as a dog! He pulled up all its seedlings! Were those even its seedlings? Even DD knows they're Gong Baidie's fuel. Without people, doesn't he even think about how he'll survive?!
Yanzi tried to question Gong Baidie several times, but each time she stumbled upon an embarrassing scene she shouldn't have seen—she had gone to see him sixteen times in five days!
Yanzi was so angry that she jumped up and down, cursing him relentlessly, but he seemed not to hear her at all and paid no attention.
"Enough, enough, Xiaobai..." Wen Ting raised her hand to push him away.
He caught her hand as she tried to push him away and kissed her tenderly.
His long hair swayed with his waist, sweeping back and forth across Wen Ting's thighs like ripples of water, turning that patch of skin red.
Her flushed phoenix eyes stared intently, as if she were looking at a mirage.
He chuckled softly, as if he had glimpsed a beautiful dream, and was secretly delighted.
"Wen Ting... Wen Ting..."
There were no other living beings in the world besides them, and it was she who personally asked him to expel everyone.
Gong Baidie couldn't help but laugh, her tongue darting under her fingernails, her laughter both romantic and affectionate. "I really enjoy serving you."
Wen Ting felt weak all over and had no strength left to resist.
She sprawled out on the sofa in the director's office, completely slacking off.
Having neither the time nor the energy to draw the little princess, she simply closed her eyes and imagined herself as Faye Wong.
How to remove the work badge is another matter; first, we need to make sure that we will definitely gain the skill after removing it.
She has to love her; she absolutely must fall in love with her.
Concentrating her mind, she imagined the pure white hair in her head, sketching out Fei Yangsi's appearance, and hummed softly, responding intermittently, "I love you too... Little White, I love you too."
She loved her, of course she loved her. She was intelligent, kind, ethereal, and elegant, like a six-pointed snowflake in winter.
"You love me?" The swaying long hair suddenly stopped.
He leaned down, and Wen Ting could feel Gong Baidie's closeness even with her eyes closed.
Fortunately, she had her eyes closed, so she didn't see those terrifyingly wide-open eyes.
Gong Baidie pressed close to her, her eyelashes already touching Wen Ting's face, but he still felt he couldn't get enough of looking at her, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't get a clear enough view.
He wanted to see Wen Ting, to see every part of her clearly. His eyes widened until they cracked at the corners, the lens of his eye protruded, and blood vessels were exposed on the vitreous humor.
"Hehe, hehehehehe... You love me, you love me." He rubbed his eyes against Wen Ting's lips, scratching his face with unbridled joy, his tone shifting from high-pitched to sweet, "I love you too, Wen Ting, I love you, I love you, I was born to marry you!"
This sentence sounds strangely familiar, as if I've heard it somewhere before...
In a moment of distraction, the face of Feonse in my mind was suddenly replaced by that of Gong Baidie.
Wen Ting frowned. His voice was so penetrating that it was hard for her to concentrate.
Her spirit was striving to climb toward the Ice Dragon Princess, while the physical pleasure repeatedly dragged her back into Gong Baidie's arms.
My thoughts are hazy and confused; the days after the assessment are always so chaotic and disorderly.
At the end of the day, Wen Ting couldn't remember what she had done, only the rich fragrance of snow orchids.
With no one around, she no longer needed to go to the office or stay in the staff lounge.
Gong Baidie expanded the director's office and redesigned the layout of the entire 13th floor.
The smoke billowed wildly, like a management simulation game; wherever the smoke swept, the walls and floors deformed according to his will.
Several hundred square meters of office space have been converted into residences.
He enthusiastically led Wen Ting to each room, asking her to comment on all the decorations.
From large items like desks and cabinets to small details like the color of the stapler, even the question of whether to put two or three boxes of paperclips in the drawer had to be discussed. Even Wen Ting, with her excellent patience, was on the verge of a breakdown.
If she responded with perfunctory "uh-huh" or "yeah," Gong Baidie's face would darken.
“This is our home, Wen Ting.” He pressed her against the railing of the terrace, facing the high-rise building below.
“You’re not attentive,” he said, sucking on her collarbone. “You weren’t like this before.”
She used to check the title of every book in the bookshelf in the game, and even adjust the angle of the chairs one by one.
She clearly has a strong desire to control her work and him.
Wen Ting wanted to cry but had no tears; her back ached so much it felt like it was about to break.
"I..." As soon as I opened my mouth, I was greeted by a mouthful of hair blown into my mouth by the wind.
She turned around with difficulty, facing Gong Baidie.
As she spun around, Gong Baidie tilted her head back, half-closed her eyes, and gasped for breath.
Despite her body aching terribly, Wen Ting still found the voice damnably sexy and beautiful.
She wasn't a professional actress, and it was only thanks to Gong Baidie's stunning looks that she could have convincingly portrayed this love story.
“I just think, um…” Behind her was the railing of the terrace, and the wind rushed past her waist. Wen Ting hooked her arm around Gong Baidie’s neck to steady herself. “This is the home you decorated with care. I didn’t do anything and shouldn’t be pointing fingers. Besides… um, you did it so perfectly to my liking.”
She lowered her head to kiss him, her lips and tongue entwining with the stray strands of hair that had flown in.
Their breathing became disordered, and they separated slightly. Two strands of hair, stained with saliva, tugged out from the corners of their mouths and clung glisteningly to Wen Ting's lower jaw.
“Your appearance, your personality… Xiaobai, everything about you makes me feel—” she stroked his cheek, smiling gently, “is absolutely wonderful.”
"Mmm!" Before she could finish speaking, she was kissed deeply.
The twilight was like fire, burning the sky a clear yellow and a deep purple-red.
The wind from above whipped their loose hair into a wild frenzy, tangling haphazardly in mid-air like splashes of ink.
He kept squeezing her space until Wen Ting's upper body was pushed off the terrace.
The fear of being lifted into the air startled her awake. She pushed Gong Baidie away, and through his semi-transparent shirt, she touched his firm and powerful muscles.
He held her tightly, leaving no room for maneuver, his teeth chipping her lip, blood mingling with saliva as it spread.
"I will not betray you, Wen Ting." He whispered between his lips, eagerly drawing in her saliva, her blood, her breath.
Wen Ting held her waist and abdomen tightly; in this position, if Gong Baidie let go, she would fall off the terrace.
Holding onto Gong Baidie alone couldn't put her at ease; who knew if he might suddenly turn to ashes and watch her fall?
She focused on what was beneath her, and after what seemed like an eternity, the long kiss finally came to an end.
There was no taste of blood in my mouth, my tongue was dry, and both my saliva and blood had been swallowed by Gong Baidie.
He smiled contentedly, his lips, whether from being crushed or stained with blood, were a vivid, ghostly red.
Her long, flowing hair blocked their view, and Gong Baidie raised her hand to tidy up her disheveled hair.
“As long as you love me—Wen Ting,” he whispered, repeating his promise, “I will never let you down.”
After those sweet words, Gong Baidie stopped pressuring her for decorating advice and instead pestered her to go to different rooms for intimate moments.
Sweet talk and coquetry are quite effective on Gong Baidie. He will show obvious joy when Wen Ting praises a certain layout.
It's like a housewife who bought beautiful new tableware but keeps it to herself, hoping her family will discover it on their own.
So cute it's almost pitiful.
The ghost stories are gone, but OA still issues tasks day after day, and Wen Ting still draws Fei Yangsi every day, which makes Gong Baidie very unhappy.
He sat on the table, twirling her pen, examining her for a moment, and said, "She doesn't really look like a prostitute."
Wen Ting was surprised; had he actually changed his opinion of Fei Yangsi?
Gong Baidie tilted her head to look at the screen, a sarcastic smile on her face. "I've seen some prostitutes, and they are indeed charming. As for her—" The pen tip poked at the screen, leaving a white dot, "She's like a plastic candy full of additives."
Wen Ting remained silent.
If she tells him to go away, Gong Baidie can grab her hair and bite her lip until it bleeds in the next second;
But if she throws a piece of candy at him and complains lightly, "How mean. How could you say that? I don't like it."
He would be incredibly excited.
“I’m sorry,” he bent down and rubbed his forehead, his voice soft, “You don’t like me saying that? I’m sorry, Wen Ting, I’m sorry.”
He smiled broadly, showing absolutely no sincerity in apologizing.
It's just pretty.
The ability to act coquettishly is surprisingly effective against Bai Die.
He's a monster, but not difficult to get along with.
Days passed by like flowing water, and my schedule, which didn't require me to go to work, became increasingly chaotic.
Wen Ting wakes up in Gong Baidie's arms every day and doesn't have to rush to go to work. She can lie in bed and daydream for a while.
He had made breakfast sometime during the day, but it was still steaming hot when she ate it.
She didn't cook or wash dishes. She would casually pick some vegetables and feed them to Gong Baidie during meals, which was considered payment for his labor. At some point, she didn't even have to wash her own clothes anymore, and she never touched housework again.
After lunch, I strolled around for a while until noon.
No one is left, but the creatures that T left behind are still alive.
Gong Baidie opened a separate sunroom on the 13th floor for the potatoes and cabbages, and Wen Ting would go there to water them.
The potatoes that Chaochao was in charge of sprouted, and Wenting would occasionally stare blankly at those tender little seedlings.
What is she thinking?
She didn't know either.
But after all, so many of her colleagues died, she had to think about something.
Each time, just as Wen Ting was about to realize what she was thinking, a cool touch would envelop her, stirring up her thoughts with wet, sticky kisses.
Wen Ting did not object to Gong Baidie's interruption; it was best not to dwell on the past.
At first, Gong Baidie would ask her what she was thinking;
Later he asked her, "Are you bored?"
Wen Ting was so badly injured that she could barely speak.
She was unable to answer. He wiped the moisture from the corner of her lips and smiled silently, "How about I cheer you up?"
His suit and shirt were half-open and half-undone, hanging loosely below his waist, making the well-tailored clothes look like a dissolute theatrical robe.
He rode on her back, his eyes smiling, humming a soft, melodious tune.
Three thousand strands of black hair swayed behind him, shimmering in the light. The lyrics of the song were fragmented, and the melody was a mess, completely incoherent.
Wen Ting couldn't make out what he was singing, but amidst the overwhelming feeling of her eyes rolling back in her head, she vaguely recognized the tune.
It seemed like there was a time when she was sitting on the bed, and Gong Baidie was sitting at the foot of the bed with her back to her.
He was dressed in white cloth as if in mourning, and was shockingly thin. He sang and laughed at the same time.
When was that?
What did he sing at that time?
Click, click...
Wen Ting tried hard to recall, but had no recollection of it. She only felt that there was something else playing besides the singing at the time.
What kind of instrument is it...? Crisp and short, an instrument she had never heard before, clicking and crackling, playing a resolute and desolate melody.
That was like a scene from a dream.
As the sun sets, its purplish-gray afterglow paints the sky outside the terrace, a dazzling spectacle tinged with the melancholy of twilight.
Wen Ting finally found time to paint.
Now she can get first place even if she draws stick figures with her eyes closed.
She no longer had an excuse to carefully depict Feongs, but all she had to do was say in a hoarse voice, "Please, Xiaobai, I want to draw properly, let me draw."
He could then be quiet for two or three hours without disturbing her.
She sat at the desk that Gong Baidie had set up for her, drawing, while he sat on the sofa opposite her, idly observing her, sometimes taking out his ocarina to amuse himself.
Wen Ting couldn't understand whether it was due to the inherent characteristics of the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument) or some other reason, but Gong Baidie played only melodies that were quiet and sorrowful.
Sobbing and whimpering, like crying.
After he finished playing a tune, he added two spoonfuls of incense to the incense burner next to the sofa, and a straight column of red smoke rose from the incense burner with the bird's beak facing it.
When he added incense for the third time, Wen Ting knew that his patience had run out and he would find it difficult to behave himself any longer.
Sure enough, he stood up and walked toward her.
"Wen Ting..."
He leaned against the table, smiling as he reached out to her, but Wen Ting slapped his hand away. "No, you can't."
Gong Baidie's smile froze, then she forced an even more ingratiating smile. "Why? Did I not serve you well?"
“I have kidney deficiency,” Wen Ting said, shutting him down.
She braced her aching back, turned her neck, and her joints cracked loudly: "Spare me, little darling, I'm not your age anymore."
Gong Baidie looked disappointed.
He pressed against Wen Ting's waist and licked his lips. "Then I'll rub it for you."
Wen Ting's eye twitched; this feigned virtuousness was rife with ulterior motives. But he was handsome, and when he seduced her with his unsatisfied desires, he was so beautiful it made Wen Ting dizzy.
"Ouch..." He rubbed her so hard that she couldn't straighten up for a moment.
"Does it hurt?" He turned around and saw her gritting her teeth and enduring the pain.
Wen Ting nodded and then shook her head. She couldn't tell if it was pain, soreness, or comfort. She hummed meaninglessly twice and pointed to her back, "I want it here too."
Gong Baidie readily agreed, "Okay."
She lay on the table enjoying Gong Baidie's massage, her eyes fixed on Fei Angsi on the screen, silently deepening her impression of her.
A sudden chill ran through my eyes.
Long, slender hands covered her eyes, gently rubbing them, while his breath brushed against her ear: "Keep it dark, don't let it see the light."
That's because he wouldn't let her go during the day.
Wen Ting thought to herself, but said aloud, "Hmm... a little lower, yes, pinch there too, um!"
The soreness dissipated as she was massaged, and her whole body felt languid and limp; she didn't even know when she fell asleep.
The next day, Wen Ting was woken up by her phone vibrating.
She groggily picked up her phone to check the time, then habitually lay back down in Gong Baidie's arms for a nap.
A moment later, his closed eyes suddenly opened.
Wen Ting suddenly stood up, grabbed her phone, and checked the time again.
At nine o'clock in the morning, a new message from OA appeared horizontally in the middle of Gong Baidie's lock screen wallpaper.
Rankings for the beginning of March
In an instant, Wen Ting broke out in a cold sweat.
His muscular forearm covered her shoulder, and Gong Baidie pulled her back into his arms. His voice, still languid and husky from just waking up, asked, "Why are you up? Are you hungry?"
Wen Ting's breathing became sluggish.
When did it become like this?
She would actually lie back in Gong Baidie's arms, and every day she would wake up to eat, drink, play, and fool around with him.
What is she doing?
Time passed quietly, and it was already the third assessment day. Compared to the previous assessment day, she had made no progress at all.
Even though there was no time limit for escaping the ghost stories, such days still filled Wen Ting with panic.
She realized that her determination to leave was being eroded.
If things continue like this, she will succumb to her fear of adventure and perish in the comfort created by Gong Baidie.
It's time to wake up.
The message that popped up in the OA system was a wake-up call, making her realize that she needed to wake up immediately!
Pushing Gong Baidie's hand away, Wen Ting got out of bed and dressed.
The third assessment day served as a wake-up call.
A sense of urgency weighed on Wen Ting's heart, making her anxious and restless.
So much time has passed, and she still hasn't found any way to kill Gong Baidie.
The first thing we could try is to "resign" Gong Baidie.
Unfortunately, she searched through Gong Baidie's tablet several times but couldn't find the resignation application module. It couldn't possibly be that easy or simple.
She couldn't find any breakthrough, and the matter of killing the Lord of the Strange Tales was making no progress. On the contrary, Gong Baidie was taking up too much of her time and energy, leaving her no time to think about Fei Angsi.
I had just finished getting dressed when there was a strange noise downstairs.
There had been no other sounds in the building for a long time, which startled Wen Ting, who looked out nervously.
"Want to go down and take a look?" Gong Baidie understood.
What's next?
Gong Baidie smiled, in a good mood, "You'll see when you see it."
His cheerful reaction made Wen Ting uneasy.
After he changed his clothes and tied his hair, the two took the elevator downstairs.
It was very dark outside the 13th floor where they lived. They didn't know when the lighting had started to need to be manually controlled, and the lights wouldn't turn on automatically even after the energy-saving period.
The elevator stopped on the 12th floor, the doors opened, and Wen Ting suddenly stepped back.
A monster that defied all expectations suddenly appeared before her eyes.
A giant human-shaped butterfly was perched on the wall, facing the open elevator door.
The human's back grew butterfly wings, and its limbs clung to the wall.
The dark red butterfly wings were broken and missing, leaving only half; the human torso was even more severely damaged, with exposed skin covered in burn-like red scars; the limbs and body were limp and seemed to be decaying.
This is a complete monster, unrecognizable, disgusting and terrifying.
Wen Ting instinctively stepped back, but was pulled back by Gong Baidie.
He inserted his five fingers into the spaces between hers, "Did you recognize who it was?"
Wen Ting stopped.
Suppressing her discomfort, she carefully examined the rotting human-butterfly figure on the wall. After a long while, she asked incredulously, "...Max?"
Her hand tightened, her wrist throbbed with pain, and she was suddenly pulled out of the elevator.
The alloy door closed behind me, and without the light from the elevator, the corridor, unlit by anyone, felt dark even during the day.
He tightened his fingers, which were inserted between her fingers, and pulled her hand up.
"You recognized him?"
In the dim light, Gong Baidie stood beneath the decaying human butterfly and whispered, "Wen Ting, why did you recognize him?"
-----------------------
Author's note: Wen Ting: He's just a little boy, I'll pretend to play along with him for now.
-after a while-
Wen Ting, so engrossed in her pleasure that she forgot herself, was startled awake from her deathbed.
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