Chapter 91, Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Fantasy Mansion
"Have you been having any difficulties these past two days?"
When Wen Ting returned home from get off work and had lunch, she inquired about the progress of Gong Baidie's housekeeping.
Gong Baidie smiled: "It's a little different from what I've encountered before. Don't worry, my wife, I'll get the hang of it as soon as possible."
Before returning to the capital with the female lead, Gong Baidie ran a brothel by herself. She not only controlled intelligence on the official and business circles in the south and many powerful families, but also trained a group of assassins.
With such abilities, managing a small family shouldn't be difficult.
“If anyone gives you trouble, tell me right away.” Wen Ting put a piece of radish on his plate. “If I’m not home, you can fight back yourself—any uncle or elder can do it, except for your father.”
Gong Baidie chuckled, "My reputation is already bad, how can I stand on my own two feet if I start hitting people?"
Just as Wen Ting was about to speak, a maid ran over and said, "My lady, Lord Yang is passing by and would like to invite you to have some wine with him."
"I'll go right away." Wen Ting put down her chopsticks, passed by Gong Baidie, and kissed his forehead. "Don't worry about them. You are the master of the Wen family and my husband."
The warm, soft sensation dissipates upon touch.
Gong Baidie was momentarily stunned.
He suddenly realized that Wen Ting hadn't kissed him in a long time.
"I'll be back soon." Wen Ting smoothed his hair. "What do you want? I'll bring it to you."
The way she said this made her look exactly like a perfect wife.
“I don’t want anything,” Gong Baidie said with a faint smile. “I just hope you come back soon.”
"Okay," Wen Ting replied, and went out with her maid.
The moment she stepped out of the Wen family's gate, the exquisite and beautiful mansion darkened.
Like a light bulb with an unstable circuit, it flickers a few times and then suddenly goes out.
The entire scene turned into a pure black block, and all the scenery and people disappeared into the darkness.
Gong Baidie stood in the darkness, her eyes slightly closed.
A wave of weariness washed over him, and he was so sleepy he could barely stand.
Wen Ting...
Come back soon, Wen Ting... He can't hold on much longer.
Having obtained the swallow's feather and unlocked the mystery of the White Butterfly of the Palace, he was extremely excited and vowed to fight Wen Ting to the death.
Now his strength is exhausted, like a dying lamp struggling to stay afloat.
He was tired, weary of always guessing her feelings for him.
Come back to Wenting soon, and let them end this game on this floor...
Gong Baidie closed her eyes and stood alone in the blank darkness.
"The master is back."
"Lord Wen is back."
Wen Ting was helped out of the sedan chair and staggered as she followed the people.
"The master is drunk." Various men's voices came from all around. "Help the master to bed and take off his clothes."
Go to bed... take off your clothes...
Wen Ting suddenly regained consciousness.
"Go away—" she waved her hand, half-awake and half-asleep, "Don't come any closer."
What's the use of being handsome and having a good personality when medical and health conditions are so backward? Who knows if those men have any diseases?
"My lord, my lord, don't move!" "My lord, be careful!"
"Get away." Wen Ting closed her eyes and rubbed her throbbing temples, using her usual excuse, "I'm married."
Gong Baidie heard this sentence as she entered the room.
She was so drunk that her face was flushed and she was not fully conscious. Two of her personal servants tried to change her clothes, but she chased them away.
"Didn't you hear me?" Even the lowest alcohol content will make you dizzy if you drink too much. She repeated impatiently, "I said I have a husband!"
The two servants were at a loss, so Gong Baidie stepped forward and took over for them: "Let me do it."
He walked up to Wen Ting and pulled off the jade belt from her waist. Wen Ting subconsciously pushed his head away.
She didn't open her eyes, sniffed the air, and suddenly laughed: "White Butterfly?"
That laughter was like a pebble dropped into a lake, creating ripples.
Gong Baidie paused, then looked up at her.
She smelled him again for a while, and then she was completely certain of his identity.
Wen Ting didn't know what the scent was, but she inexplicably knew it was the scent of the Palace White Butterfly.
She leaned against him, hugged his waist, and asked in a smug tone, "Am I back early or not?"
Gong Baidie said calmly, "It's already 9 PM."
"Hai Shi (9-11 PM)?" Wen Ting tilted her head. "What time is Hai Shi?"
Gong Baidie did not answer, and took off her outer garment.
“Hai Shi…” Wen Ting frowned, counting on her fingers, “Zi Shi is midnight, Hai Shi comes before Zi Shi, a Shi Chen is two hours—that’s still early, huh? Why are you getting off work so early today?”
Gong Baidie put away her outer garment and turned to hang it up. As she did so, an enamel bracelet fell from her pocket and tumbled to the ground.
He bent down to pick it up, and a warm, soft body covered his back.
Wen Ting wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, her breath brushing against his ear.
Gong Baidie trembled, and heard a woman's soft, smiling voice whisper in her ear: "Butterfly..."
"Do you like it?" Her voice was warm and soft, carrying not only the smell of alcohol but also a faint fragrance.
The smell of cosmetics.
Gong Baidie twirled the bracelet. "How many prostitutes did you hire?"
Wen Ting leaned on his shoulder and thought for a moment, then said, "Four."
Gong Baidie turned her back to her and chuckled coldly, her voice almost gentle, "You've been drinking tea or alcohol all this time, and people come to see you every day."
"My job is to gather information for the Queen."
“But I heard,” Gong Baidie glanced back, “that all the adults really like you.”
"Huh? What? Ahh~ Sorry... it's an occupational hazard from my previous job."
Gong Baidie turned around and stared at him intently.
Wen Ting had only been in this world for a short time, and she hadn't been able to change her speaking habits.
When she's engrossed in her work, she sometimes inadvertently blurts out, "Could you get that book for me?" or "Yes, thank you, darling."
When her colleagues, who were of the same generation, shared some homemade snacks in the government office, she exclaimed amidst a chorus of "Thank you" and "Thank you, sir," "Oh my god, you're so thoughtful, darling."
When older people help her with things, she occasionally says things like, "Sister, you're so kind, I love you~".
She tried to restrain herself, but in this social context, such words, once uttered even once or twice, have an unstoppable impact.
Is it just this era that's having an impact...?
Would such behavior be appropriate in modern times?
Ashley, Burberry—just thinking about that string of names made Gong Baidie hate her frivolousness and her ruthless methods.
To avoid gossip, Wen Ting takes advantage of the fact that men are fashionable and cautious; but when it comes to women of value, she uses the excuse of being the same sex to seduce them without any bottom line.
When things reached a stalemate, she looked innocent and surprised, saying, "Oh my god, I really didn't expect this... I've always thought of you as my best friend."
She has always been like this, using other people's feelings to gain meager benefits.
He truly hated her.
I hate her to the core.
"Let me see it on?" Wen Ting had recovered a little from her drunkenness and fiddled with the bracelet in his hand. "The butterfly pattern reminds me of you."
Gong Baidie glanced at the bracelet casually: "It's amazing that you can still think of me even when you're this drunk."
"I haven't stopped thinking about you or missing you for a single moment," Wen Ting said, her eyes crinkling with a smile.
She raised her chin and moved closer to Gong Baidie's face.
The warm aroma of wine wafted over, the old wine carrying a faint sweetness of rice. Just as they were about to kiss, Wen Ting suddenly pulled away.
Gong Baidie looked up. Her face was flushed, her clothes were disheveled, and a few strands of hair were stuck messily to her face and into her collar.
"Does it smell bad?" She was unsteady on her feet, leaning against the wall, and smiled smugly through her drunken eyes. "You go to sleep, I'll go wash up so I don't get you dirty."
As he spoke, he walked out.
Her steps were unsteady; she kept her head down, staring at the ground, walking very carefully on her own.
Unlike the female protagonist in the game, Wen Ting will never trip and fall on flat ground unless someone deliberately messes with her.
She's not the female lead; if she were, she would become the director's wife.
If she were the female lead, she would resolutely save Ajak;
If she's the female lead, she should trip and fall here so the male lead can catch her and deepen their relationship.
Her actions are not worthy of being a main character; such a vicious, hypocritical, and selfish person is not even qualified to be a positive supporting character.
"Stop fussing." Gong Baidie pulled her back. "Sit still, I'll get you some water."
He put on the bracelet.
It's inconvenient to hold it in my hand because I need to do things.
...
Wen Ting couldn't help Gong Baidie with anything regarding the household affairs.
Although the double-entry bookkeeping method used here is a more mature one, Wen Ting's work has always been far removed from finance. Fortunately, Gong Baidie is the male protagonist, and he doesn't even need an abacus to calculate those accounts; he can do it all with just a glance.
As for the various departments' regulations, the arrangements for holidays, weddings, and funerals, Wen Ting knew absolutely nothing about them.
The only thing she could help Gong Baidie with was matters of personal connections.
"I'm leaving, baby." After breakfast, she kissed Gong Baidie's forehead in front of all the servants as usual. "I'll be back for lunch."
Gong Baidie hummed in agreement and smoothed the hair on her forehead that had been kissed.
When she raised her hand to adjust it, a section of her sleeve fell down, revealing half a circle of colorful enamel.
"You wore it?" Wen Ting asked, her eyes shining with joy. "It looks really good."
The previous instance had just ended, and she suddenly gave him such a nice look. Gong Baidie gripped her wrist, feeling a little uncomfortable.
"Isn't it too fancy?"
Upon hearing this, Wen Ting took two steps back and carefully examined the situation.
"I understand." She clasped her hands together. "Could I make some alterations to this outfit?"
Gong Baidie was just being modest, thinking that Wen Ting would coax him a few words and leave. Unexpectedly, she had someone bring him colored ink, stretched his sleeves and hem, and knelt down to paint for him.
She was completely absorbed in drawing and studying the patterns on the bracelet. She mixed several of the same colors and painted butterflies and plum blossoms on Gong Baidie's plain-colored clothes.
This version of her was completely unfamiliar to Gong Baidie.
He was momentarily stunned, then realized that he had never seen Wen Ting from this angle before.
She actually knelt down for him.
The servants stared in astonishment at the scene. Dawn was approaching, and the maid urged anxiously, "Sir, it will be too late if we don't leave now."
"It's alright, I'll ride a horse." Wen Ting finished filling in the last line of red ink, put down her brush, and blew the ink off her clothes.
She got up from the ground and led Gong Baidie to the dressing mirror. "How is it? Are you feeling better now that you've received a response?"
Gong Baidie looked at the flowers and butterflies blooming on him, one by one, piece by piece.
"That's nice..." he murmured to himself in the mirror.
Wen Ting took his hand, which was adorned with the bracelet, and leaned down to kiss the back of his hand: "Thank you, my dear, for being willing to use my gift. I'm so happy."
Looking at her gentle, smiling eyes, Gong Baidie felt as if she had fallen into an ice cellar.
An unprecedented sense of urgency gripped his throat, rendering him speechless.
The game must end, and Wen Ting must die on this floor.
We can't let her leave... If she wants to, no man, woman, or anyone can escape her trap.
She was so adept at feigning affection that even he felt terrified.
“My lord,” the maid urged again, “we really have to go.”
Wen Ting then left, turning back to wave to Gong Baidie as she went, "See you at noon."
Gong Baidie couldn't help but raise the hand that had been kissed by her to say goodbye.
He only slowly lowered his hand after Wen Ting had completely walked away.
Out of the corner of her eye, Gong Baidie glanced at the mirror and froze.
The man in the mirror looked radiant with spring, his brows furrowed with tenderness.
He immediately suppressed his smile, and realizing he had made a hasty attempt to salvage the situation, he grinned and gave an exaggerated, sly laugh to cover up his earlier faint smile.
very nice--
He rubbed away the undried ink on his sleeve.
She has yet another reason to die.
The red of plum blossoms and the white of butterflies create a chaotic mix of colors. The thumb is stained with red and white paint, and the white butterfly holds the finger in its mouth, licking away the remaining color from the fingertip with its tongue.
It tastes bitter.
He deserves this suffering; it's his own fault for not wearing gloves.
...
After Wen Ting finished her court session, she went to the Imperial Hospital and invited the imperial physicians back to examine the servants in her household.
As with the previous times, the imperial physician had no clue and only prescribed some mild tonics.
The strange illness in the manor caused no fever or vomiting, but left people feeling weak all over, with pale and ashen faces, as if their life force had been drained.
Not only people, but Wen Ting also saw the crabapple tree that the housekeeper had mentioned being sucked to death by butterflies.
This is a game she created, and Wen Ting is well aware that it contains no fantasy elements.
She suspected that there might be some special radioactive material in the house, so she hired an expert and began preparations to move.
In any case, she will not divorce Gong Baidie.
Who knows what the NPC here is thinking? She's unfamiliar with the place and easy to fool, so she needs someone trustworthy to help her with logistics.
On the other hand, the game revolves around the male and female protagonists, and in a sense, the world operates with them at its core.
Wen Ting dared not gamble on the tragic ending of the male and female protagonists or the disappearance of the male protagonist; the worst possibility was that the entire world would collapse.
She didn't want to go back to being a lowly team leader.
The male lead is very important; she not only cannot leave him, but she also has to appease him.
Wen Ting called people from the clothing and jewelry store to her home. She painted something on one of his clothes and then had it repaired twice as much.
Whenever she had a social engagement involving prostitutes, Wen Ting never tried to hide it from him; instead, she always brought gifts home.
She couldn't give him the pure love of a game heroine, but she could give him a comfortable home.
Besides, the game's female protagonist didn't give him genuine love—which player would love only one character for their entire life?
No matter how Wen Ting thought about it, her actions could not be called exploitation; they should be described as cooperation and mutual benefit.
"My lord, you're back so late today?" The maid at the gate opened the door for Wen Ting after midnight.
She got up in the middle of the night to open the door, and Wen Ting said apologetically, "Sorry for waking you up."
"You're too kind, sir." The maid glanced at the food box in Wen Ting's arms and smiled knowingly. "The master has already gone to sleep."
"Then I'll take it to the kitchen." Wen Ting nodded and walked towards the kitchen with the glass lantern in her hand.
She had only been to the kitchen once since she transmigrated. The kitchen was far from the master's living room, and she was unsure of her direction when it got dark.
After trying to find two paths based on her memory, Wen Ting chose to give up.
She prepared to return to her room and asked a servant to escort her.
As she turned around, a red figure flashed past Wen Ting's eyes.
She was startled, and upon closer inspection by the moonlight, she realized it was a red butterfly.
It was a very peculiar color; Wen Ting had never seen a pure red butterfly before.
It hovered and flew low in the air, not very agile.
Wen Ting squinted. The butterfly's proportions were not very harmonious; its body was slightly bloated and bulging, as if it were filled with water.
The butterfly fluttered its wings and flew up and down to a cluster of balsam flowers.
A dark red butterfly landed on a fiery red flower, extended its mouthparts, and sipped the nectar.
Wen Ting's attention shifted, and just as she was about to take a step, she suddenly froze.
Her gaze returned to the scene, and she was astonished to see the beautiful balsam withering at a visible rate.
The tender petals withered and wrinkled, and the vibrant colors became dry and dull.
The flower withered and died in an instant, while the butterfly's belly grew larger.
It drained the flower, flapped its wings, and clumsily flew forward.
The housekeeper said that Wen Ting didn't take it seriously when the butterfly sucked the flowers to death, thinking it was just that it was collecting too much nectar. She didn't expect it to be to such an extreme extent.
What kind of flower-growing locust is this?
It seems that while treating the servants' illnesses, we should also hire some gardeners.
She carried a lantern as she walked towards her lodgings, and the butterfly followed her the whole way.
It flew away slowly, circling around the outside of Wenting Courtyard.
Wen Ting paused.
After the butterfly disappeared from the corner of the wall, the creaking sound of the window being pushed open suddenly rang out in the quiet, deserted night.
The room in front of her was lit by a dim yellow light. Through the window paper, Wen Ting saw a figure standing by the wall.
He pushed open the window on that side and stretched his hand out.
The lamplight flickered, and people's shadows swayed and grew longer.
A bracelet adorned her slender wrist, accentuated by the lamplight.
The hand reached out of the window, then retracted.
A fat butterfly perched on an overly long finger.
Wen Ting tilted her head.
The oil lamp flickered, and the reflection on the window rippled like the moon's reflection in water.
He raised his slender hand, opened his mouth, and swallowed the butterfly in his hand in one gulp.
Snap
The dim yellow lights went completely off.
Wen Ting was stunned.
Is it misaligned?
But why would such a strange butterfly fly into Gong Baidie's room?
Wen Ting kept the matter to herself that night.
The next morning at breakfast, she glanced at Gong Baidie and saw that he seemed perfectly normal.
"What's wrong?" He raised his hand to touch his face to check. "Is there something wrong with me?"
Wen Ting looked at the enamel bracelet on his wrist.
After a moment, she smiled and said, "I have to go to court to see a group of old ladies again. I'll look at something nice to look at before I leave."
A faint blush rose on the man's pale face. He turned his head away. "Don't make fun of me."
"You're so cute, baby." Wen Ting put her arm around his shoulder and kissed him lightly. "You've been here for so long and haven't gone out yet. The weather's nice today, shall we go for a walk after court?"
“I don’t feel bored,” Gong Baidie said. “There are still things to do at home.”
Wen Ting blinked and gently shook his hand: "Okay, I want to go out and play with you, please..."
The fingers she was holding twitched.
He asked, "Where to?"
"I'm going to the temple. I want a talisman for conceiving a child."
Gong Baidie glanced at her, then suddenly laughed: "Okay."
They went to the temple, and when they reached the foot of the mountain, a maid suddenly called Wen Ting to the government office, saying there was an urgent matter.
Wen Ting looked at the temple so close by with resentment. Gong Baidie got out of the sedan chair and comforted her, "It's alright, I'll go up first."
"I'll get there as soon as possible. If I'm late, you should go home first." Wen Ting apologized with guilt and reluctance. "I'll make it up to you when I get back."
Gong Baidie smiled but didn't say anything.
Wen Ting gave a wink to her maid and then mounted her horse.
She rode all the way back to the mansion and went straight to Gong Baidie's room.
The servants in the manor asked in surprise, "Why has the master returned?"
“Come back and get some documents.” Wen Ting sent him away. “Go to the kitchen and prepare some refreshing drinks for the lord when he returns.”
"yes."
Wen Ting lifted the curtain and entered the room, seeing Gong Baidie's room for the first time.
This room looked extremely familiar; from the large bookshelves to the text on the open books, everything was designed by her.
Everything here is the same as the room she arranged for Gong Baidie in the game, except that the bed is different; it has become a canopy bed.
This dowry bed, with its elaborate and ornate design, was a labor of love and a source of great interest. Wen Ting will search for it here first.
She wasn't sure what she should look for—maybe a witchcraft doll, a strange formation, or a letter that recorded some secrets. In any case, she decided to check if there was anything unusual in Gong Baidie's room first.
She walked into the bed, flipped over the pillows, and opened a few hidden compartments, but there was nothing special about them.
She squatted down again to check the outer drawer, and after rummaging through it, she stood up and suddenly felt dizzy.
The game's female protagonist also suffered from hypoglycemia, just like her. She was quite surprised, grabbed the bed curtain next to her to steady herself, and endured the dizziness.
The moment her fingers gripped the fabric, fragments of memories flashed through her mind—
The double happiness symbol, red candles, a dagger, and a long red skirt.
Cold sweat seeped from Wen Ting's forehead. She shook her head and saw the window through the bed frame where the butterfly had flown in the night before.
The openwork carvings on the bed frame gave her a slight headache, and she felt inexplicably palpitated, staring fixedly at the window.
It was a bright and sunny morning, but Wen Ting was shocked to see moonlight on the ground, red lines all over the courtyard, and the cry of Yun He, whose head had been cut off in half...
"He's so handsome, younger than me, more elegant than me, even his hair looks like it's made of silver. Isn't it?"
A damp, sticky sound brushed past her ear, and Wen Ting turned around abruptly, the glaring red suddenly hitting her eyes.
The plain-colored bed was suddenly plunged into a blood-red hue, with the curtains on both sides dyed crimson. Red necklaces and sachets hung on the bed frame, and the highly saturated colors gave the wood a red glow.
"You even have to act cute and clingy to me when you do something like this?"
Wen Ting took a half step back in fright, her heel touching the drawer cabinet, but a burning pain shot through her ankle.
"Okay, I'll help you."
The voice drew closer, tinged with laughter, as if it were ringing directly in her head—
"Raise your hand"
"pay close attention"
"Stab it down."
"Ha!" Wen Ting turned around abruptly, her face pale, and ran out as fast as she could.
run!
Run!
Fear screamed in her mind, urging her to leave the eerie red room immediately.
The crimson tide surged and roared behind her, threatening to engulf her. She had to run!
...
The investigation yielded nothing; apart from those inexplicable memories, Wen Ting found no substantial evidence.
The butterfly likely flew into Gong Baidie's room by accident, but a sense of unease made Wen Ting pay close attention to Gong Baidie.
There was nothing unusual about him; he was exactly as the character was in the game: aloof, noble, and dignified.
Wen Ting rested her chin on her hand and watched him lean against the bed reading.
She'd been staring for too long. Gong Baidie averted her gaze and looked over helplessly: "What are you looking at, my lady?"
It feels out of place.
A strong sense of unease arose once again.
His expression seemed normal, but Wen Ting felt that this was not something Gong Baidie would say.
So what should he say?
She wondered what he would say with that gentle, smiling face—
Are you hungry? Or do you want some?
Wen Ting was taken aback.
She stared at Gong Baidie's lips, and whether it was her imagination or not, his lips were so red they looked like two pieces of blood, overlapping with the wings of the red butterfly.
Those red butterflies gradually became a strange tale in the mansion, the flowers in the garden died in batches, and the sick were carried out of the house.
Red butterflies passed by every dead flower and the sick person without exception. Most of the servants in the mansion who were free had left. If this continued, even the emperor would have to intervene.
Wen Ting had no choice but to intensify her investigation.
She compiled a list of locations where people had seen the Red Butterfly and personally staked out areas where the Red Butterfly frequently appeared.
After waiting for three days, she finally saw a red butterfly.
The butterfly landed lightly on a waiter's head.
Through her tightly combed hair, the butterfly's mouthparts couldn't possibly pierce her scalp, but Wen Ting could see that the butterfly's abdomen was slowly getting bigger!
It only stopped for about half a minute, and the male servant was completely unaware. Half a minute later, the round-bellied butterfly flapped its wings and flew away as if it were carrying a heavy iron weight.
Wen Ting wrote down the male servants' names while following Butterfly.
The road beneath my feet was becoming increasingly familiar, and an ominous premonition was already sounding the alarm.
Wen Ting stopped and did not go any further.
She watched as the butterfly flew into Gong Baidie's room.
That evening, news came that the male servant had fallen ill.
When the butler came to report, Wen Ting was having dinner with Gong Baidie.
She listened as the butler nervously described the male servant, saying he was barely breathing and his face was ashen.
Wen Ting shifted her gaze slightly, glancing at Gong Baidie who was eating.
He didn't use rouge, yet his lips were as red as blood.
She observed him discreetly, but Gong Baidie noticed immediately.
The man turned to look at her, his red lips curving into a smile, innocent and bewildered: "My lady, why are you looking at me again?"
Wen Ting gripped her chopsticks tightly, then suddenly smiled at the butler, "I've heard a story—"
"I heard that if a flower in a flower bed is particularly brightly colored, the gardener will cut it off."
"If the king of flowers is not removed, the other ordinary flowers will feel ashamed of their inferiority and slowly wither away."
The butler looked bewildered.
Wen Ting's gaze returned to Gong Baidie, sweetly intoxicated, "After thinking it over, I can only conclude that the flowers and people in the manor have fallen ill for this reason."
“Starting tomorrow, let all the young men leave, leaving only the household slaves and the old men.”
The butler was shocked. He had seen people blinded by lust, but he had never seen anyone so blinded as to risk their life.
She was so sick, how could she come up with such an absurd reason?
A moment of confusion flashed in Gong Baidie's eyes.
Was it not serious enough that she didn't take it to heart?
Then let her take another look.
Although the outcome of the bet would be the same whether she won or lost, it was the last time, and Gong Baidie wanted to win this time, to laugh at her properly, and to show her just how ridiculous her ideas were—
She is Wen Ting, a powerful and influential woman. How could she possibly keep such trouble by her side?
She will definitely try every means to get rid of him.
Dismissing the young male servants did not improve the situation.
Such measures not only caused widespread anxiety, but also made the large mansion feel less lively and more eerie and terrifying.
The number of red butterflies has increased.
Wen Ting stood by the window, frowning as she watched the butterflies flitting by under the moonlight.
She had initially assumed that Gong Baidie wanted to absorb the essence of young men to nourish her body, so she made up an excuse to send them away. Now it seems that she was too stereotypical.
The clumsy butterfly still flew towards Gong Baidie's room.
Wen Ting put on her coat and followed.
She pushed open the door and ran out, but bumped into something and bounced back.
Looking up, all I saw was a pitch-black courtyard, so dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face.
Why is it so dark...? Wen Ting immediately turned her head and looked at the window where she had just been standing.
The bright moon shines outside the window.
A huge full moon hung in the sky, and from her angle, she could even see several shadows of lunar maria.
Turning my head again, the darkness outside the door suddenly disappeared for a while—
The area closest to the door lit up, and the moonlight pushed outwards inch by inch, revealing the surrounding scenery inch by inch before Wen Ting's eyes.
It was as if the game map was loading little by little.
Wen Ting stared blankly, her fingertips tentatively reaching forward.
There was nothing in front of her; there were no obstacles at all. But the moment she stepped out, she was clearly blocked by a wall.
Once the entire courtyard scene had been loaded, a red butterfly appeared diagonally in front of it, disappearing into the corner of the wall.
Wen Ting immediately chased after her.
She stood outside Gong Baidie's room, the creaking sound of the window being pushed open clearly audible in the night, like rotten branches breaking off from the wood.
Recalling the scene of Gong Baidie swallowing the butterfly, Wen Ting's palms became sticky with sweat, which was quickly dried by the cold night wind.
The wind suddenly picked up tonight.
The empty courtyard, the fierce night wind, and the lonely full moon made Wen Ting feel a little breathless.
A jumbled mess of scenes surged through her mind. In a daze, she seemed to see mountains of heart-shaped gift boxes; and then she saw blood-red bubbles of text boiling and overlapping in the darkness—
[Heart][Open Gift][The Gift You Gave Me][Heart][Heart]
[Stop][Watch out][Come back][Stop!]
Please...
Bang!
A loud bang suddenly rang in my ears.
Wen Ting snapped back to her senses in surprise as a gust of wind blew open the window in front of her.
The window covered with white paper swayed in the wind, and she was caught off guard when her eyes met those of the person inside.
The wind blew out the only dim oil lamp in the room.
The moonlight was gradually poured into the room.
At the intersection of cold light and darkness, a man with long hair and a red dress chewed, half a scarlet butterfly wing convulsing and trembling outside his lips.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed what was in his mouth, then stuck out his tongue to scoop up a butterfly wing stuck to his lips and put it back in his mouth.
Throughout the entire process, he kept his eyes fixed on her.
After a while, he swallowed the plump red butterfly, his blood-red lips curving upwards as he greeted Wen Ting softly, "What are you doing here, my wife?"
Wen Ting took a half step back.
"I don't want any misunderstandings," she said, swallowing as he did so. "Bai Die, let's have a proper talk?"
Gong Baidie emerged from the shadows.
Bathed in the frosty moonlight, he leaned against the windowsill, smiling as he looked at her, "Let's chat."
The sleeve fell down to the wrist, revealing half of an enamel bracelet.
He didn't offer any explanation, so Wen Ting composed herself and spoke first: "Let me think of you in a positive light first—is this a niche food like eating silkworm pupae or centipedes?"
Gong Baidie chuckled, "Why not think of me in a negative light?"
Wen Tingxin's heart sank a little.
"Then I can only conclude that you need to draw on the life force of others to nourish yourself."
Gong Baidie did not refute.
"You're scared," he said with certainty, tinged with a hint of expectation, "You want to divorce me, no, you want to destroy me?"
"I'm scared." Wen Ting took a step forward, forcing herself to speak.
Gong Baidie was slightly taken aback. Instead of backing away, she moved even closer to him—what did she want to do?
"But I won't give up on you right away." The eyes in the night were clear and firm, echoing the bright moon in the sky. "White Butterfly, I think of you in a positive light first—we can continue to be together."
The light in his phoenix eyes flickered, dim and unclear.
Wen Ting understood his gaze, and he told her to continue.
"Instead of shooting one shot and changing to another, draining the Wen family dry and then moving on to another household, why don't you make use of my resources? I can find a continuous source of vitality for you."
"You have no reason to do this."
"Of course."
Because she was afraid of angering him and the male lead's revenge; because she needed Gong Baidie's ability to handle things; because raising a demon, although it would bring disaster to her descendants, would bring her wealth and glory in this life.
The first two are the main reasons, the middle one is the objective fact, and the last one is her wishful thinking.
A mix of various reasons, big and small, were combined, and Wen Ting embellished them slightly: "Because I need you, Bai Die, I want to live peacefully with you."
Gong Baidie was stunned.
To show her sincerity, she took two more steps forward until she looked up at him from the window.
The bright moon was behind them, and the woman's face was hidden in the shadows.
She feigned a frown, then spoke with genuine emotion: "Whether you are human or ghost, you are my husband. Bai Die, I need you, I don't want to be your enemy."
Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her fear.
She only said this because she was forced by circumstances; she realized she couldn't escape, so she made herself sound nice.
The wind whipped their hair, and after Gong Baidie's power was exhausted, the strange tales always leaked out.
When he was at his weakest, he was most eager to please Wen Ting. Whenever he was awake, he was either working, cooking, or serving her pleasure.
That was also the time when Wen Ting was most intent on deceiving him.
Gong Baidie's tongue felt dry, and the bitter taste of the mixed red and white paint surged up from her.
Her eyes were pitiful and helpless, but in contrast to this appearance, Gong Baidie saw Wen Ting's confident smile from the 11th floor.
"I'll bet you," she said.
"I was able to live peacefully with you even knowing 'Gong Baidie's' identity."
"Ha..." he chuckled self-deprecatingly.
The same harmful butterfly scared her so much in the last round that she ended up competing with him to see who could go the craziest; but in this round, she actually dared to act cute towards him?
She was annoyed by the director's advances and hated the miserable madman, yet she was willing to keep an evil creature in her home.
Gong Baidie—she emphasized that she must know the identity of "Gong Baidie" in this bet.
What is so special about the Palace White Butterfly?
Gong Baidie thought about it for a while and then gave up.
He was too lazy to think about it deeply, nor did he want to. She was a despicable person, and the reason was simply that she was being despicable and malicious.
No need to overthink it. He hated her his whole life, and in his final moments, all he needs to remember is that he hated her.
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A note from the author:
Yanzi: Ha, who caused the lack of time? How many times did I advise you? You spent all your money on a game, squandered the savings I left you, and now you're selling your kidneys and blood to keep playing. If you don't deserve it, who does?
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