Just one short sentence, yet Su Er felt as if it were a soul-deep interrogation.
Before deciding to expose the clay figure, he had hesitated for a long time. In the end, he still chose to reveal its existence. First, because the staff weren’t allowed to participate in the performance, but the child’s role in the story was indispensable. Second, the clay figure might not be able to leave the instance. Now that it had developed sentience, it could barely be considered a living being, and it didn’t feel right to just leave it behind.
If it really couldn’t be taken out, and given that ghosts have no compassion and the mud figure had no means of self-defense, it would sooner or later perish on the island. After much deliberation, Su Er reluctantly realized that the only person he could entrust it to was Mister Rose—at least, he was honest and kept his word.
Killing the clay figure in a fit of rage would be petty and out of character for the host. With that as a premise, there was still room to negotiate.
"I caught it on the island," Su Er said vaguely. "Just fate, I guess."
Ever since that night when he found bits of clay at the door, Mister Rose had been suspicious that Su Er was secretly up to something. Who would’ve thought that he really was… messing with spirits.
Without confronting him directly for the weak explanation, the host narrowed his eyes and directed the cameraman to remove the equipment.
“Where’s the clay figure?”
Su Er looked up, just in time to catch the fluttering of Mister Rose’s eyelashes as he squinted—yet the gaze hidden beneath was impossible to read.
“Show him.”
Ji Heng’s low voice floated over, and Su Er didn’t hesitate any longer. He pulled the clay figure from his pocket.
For a few seconds, Mister Rose silently stared at the mud figure that also had a rose growing from its ear.
The voice that broke the silence came from elsewhere—
At the moment the mud figure appeared, Qu Qingming couldn’t help but sneer, “You’re really something, tricking us all.”
She had even foolishly cast her vote.
Su Er smiled innocently. “I just wanted to hear what everyone had to say.”
No one likes to be played. Lu Quanqiu and Man Jiangshan were also displeased, but since they shared common goals—to escape the instance—they didn’t react as strongly as Qu Qingming.
Finally, Mister Rose looked away from the mud figure, waiting for the “culprit” to state his intention.
“You’re a gentleman, so of course I’d be honest and upfront with you,” Su Er even used an honorific. “You’re the last person in this world I’d ever want to deceive.”
The idea of dodging questions was Ji Heng’s suggestion. As he put it, the host would soon figure out what they were plotting, and by not responding directly, they were in effect letting the host name his own terms.
If the terms were acceptable, they could agree and secure a way out for the mud figure.
If not, and the clay figure really couldn’t be taken out of the instance… then they’d make it into a breathtakingly beautiful man and send it off in style.
When they discussed this, they hadn’t tried to hide anything. The clay figure, listening in, simply made a throat-slitting gesture—if it could be transformed into an absolute stunner, it would gladly ‘die’ on the spot.
Perhaps because its core yin energy came from the cameraman, who had a penchant for capturing beauty through the lens, that subconscious impulse had magnified within the clay figure to an extreme. Its pursuit of beauty could only be described as obsessive.
The atmosphere grew increasingly awkward until Ji Heng spoke to smooth things over: “Isn’t it time for the other group to present?”
The process had to continue. The cameraman following Lu Quanqiu and his group began showing their new video.
The footage accurately captured an intense battle in the forest.
The video lasted 21 minutes in total—20 of which were filled with brutal infighting. As requested by Lu Quanqiu, the story culminated in the original wife beating up the scumbag and his mistress.
The fight scenes were executed brilliantly. The splattered blood was real. If judged solely on action, they’d get a perfect score.
“Both groups’ works have their own merits. What’s truly commendable is how different their creative directions were.” Mister Rose transitioned smoothly the moment the video ended. “Now, it’s time for the exciting announcement of the rankings!”
Su Er genuinely admired him—delivering lines so smoothly under these circumstances went beyond professionalism.
“But first, let’s welcome our special guest and emotional expert to share her story!”
Clap clap clap.
As Mister Rose finished, only Su Er and the clay figure clapped.
The limp applause made things awkward. Man Jiangshan belatedly nudged Lu Quanqiu for a token clap.
The blonde woman wiped away the bloodstains left by the sea fish she had eaten earlier, removed her sunglasses, and stood before the group to recount her tragic past at the hands of her boyfriend: “…I’ll never forget the sound of his laughter as he gouged out my eyes. That man had merfolk blood—cruel, obsessive, and desperate for true love!”
Overwhelmed with emotion, her hollow eye sockets began to ooze two streaks of black-red blood.
“After doing all that, he even held my hand and cried… said that long ago, merfolk could only live in the sea, and one of their ancestors tore off his tail to seize the only chance to take human form.” Even now, her voice brimmed with hate. “Creatures like them should never set foot on land!”
Mister Rose gave a perfunctory few words of comfort, using the ex-boyfriend’s tale as a segue into the island’s legend—more or less the same as the story Su Er had found in <Mermaid’s Tear>
His voice had a unique charm, making the story captivating to hear.
Su Er, however, ignored it, glancing sideways at Ji Heng and mouthing a few words.
Ji Heng nodded.
Their exchange didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but there was nothing they could do—lip-reading wasn’t a universal skill.
The scene play ended with an unquestionable win for Su Er and Ji Heng. Just like the two previous competitions, any contest involving rivalry earned a reward from the host: an information card.
This time was no exception.
Su Er had no intention of staying for dinner. After receiving the card, he glanced at Man Jiangshan and went upstairs to his room. Ji Heng followed, seemingly to discuss matters, but slipped away midway to retrieve the heart he’d hidden before the shoot.
Once the door was closed, the atmosphere lightened. Qu Qingming had just pulled a dramatic move like a werewolf self-destructing; soon the tension downstairs would be thick enough to cut. Staying would be a waste of time.
Su Er opened the card. On it was a single sentence: ‘Love made us walk upright.’
“The previous two messages were about the love killer themselves,” Ji Heng said after a glance. “This one clearly isn’t.”
Su Er casually destroyed the card. “Probably related to the altar.”
In the blonde woman’s story, the merfolk had to tear off their tails to walk on land. The island’s shape resembled a fish tail—there had to be some connection.
“If severing the tail marked the start of love,” Su Er pondered, looking at Ji Heng, “the altar might be located around the waist.”
Ji Heng nodded. “Try searching along the eastern coastline.”
Su Er hesitated. “Isn’t that too wide an area?”
The island was quite large. A thorough search would be time-consuming.
Ji Heng roughly sketched a map. “Start from the center of the coastline—that would be the rupture point.”
Su Er found that reasonable. A fishtail must be torn from the middle to transform into legs, so the altar being at the center was highly likely. With that in mind, he reached into his pocket and patted the little clay figure’s head. “I’m counting on you.”
It was hard to pinpoint the rupture point from land, but the clay figure could fly into the air and roughly mark out the area.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was even worse than Su Er had anticipated. After they went upstairs, the remaining players completely stopped interacting.
Lu Quanqiu’s eyes were bloodshot, and he kept scratching at the leather sofa, the harsh sound grating on everyone’s ears.
Man Jiangshan finally couldn’t take it anymore and frowned. “If it gets worse, you should put the death immunity coupon somewhere else.”
They feared he might lose his mind.
Lu Quanqiu glared warily and immediately snapped, “You’re trying to steal it, aren’t you?”
He realized he'd misspoken, but he just couldn’t control himself.
Man Jiangshan was normally good at managing his emotions, but this time, he unexpectedly exploded. He shot to his feet and started hurling insults right back.
Off to the side, Qu Qingming watched with her head propped in her hand, sneering and occasionally throwing fuel on the fire with sarcastic remarks.
The farce lasted about ten minutes. Eventually, Man Jiangshan lost it, even more agitated than Lu Quanqiu. He grabbed a cup from the table and hurled it—venting in the most primal way.
Lu Quanqiu took a hit to the shoulder, and the two of them broke out into a full-on fight.
After enjoying the show for a while, Qu Qingming suddenly sensed something was off. It seemed Man Jiangshan was deliberately provoking Lu Quanqiu—and mainly dodging rather than retaliating during the fight. Every time Lu Quanqiu began to calm down, Man Jiangshan would provoke him again.
Realizing something, she rushed upstairs. Light leaked through the crack in the door, but no matter how hard she knocked, no one answered from inside.
Anger wiped away her usual flirtatious charm. Qu Qingming clutched the banister tightly, staring down from above. “You’re deliberately stalling?”
Man Jiangshan feigned confusion, but inwardly, he was full of mockery.
They had originally found the altar thanks to the little clay figure’s guidance. But since it was now under Su Er’s control, it proved the altar they’d found was fake. The reality was, she currently had no leverage at all.
Thinking of the hint Su Er had given him before going upstairs, Man Jiangshan cursed his cold-blooded heart a thousand times—yet had no choice but to help stall.
Understanding it all now, killing intent flashed in Qu Qingming’s eyes. She stopped wasting time and made to leave, but Man Jiangshan blocked her path.
“I can’t beat you,” he said with a smile, “but it seems you can’t kill me either.”
She hadn’t spared him earlier out of kindness—she simply didn’t meet the conditions to kill.
Qu Qingming’s expression turned icy. “You think you can stop me?”
“I can’t.” Man Jiangshan shrugged with a lazy tone. “But if I can stall you for a bit, that’s enough.”
The nighttime forest was ominous and unsettling.
There was no time for fear—Su Er ran a long distance in one go. When he finally stopped, his throat ached. “Are we close?”
As soon as he spoke, a white blur flashed in front of him, claws swiping toward his face. Su Er instinctively stepped back, but Ji Heng grabbed the figure mid-air and slammed it against a nearby tree.
The thick trunk trembled violently. The water ghost's waist nearly snapped from the impact. It lay half-dead on the ground, moaning in pain.
Ji Heng didn’t even look at it, eyes locked ahead. There, the ground dipped inward—right where the clay figure had hovered earlier.
“Just a few hundred meters left.”
Su Er took a deep breath, ignored the groaning ghost, and ran forward again. Watching Ji Heng’s steady breathing, he panted, “No wonder you earned the ‘Test of Endurance’ achievement.”
His stamina was amazing!
“It had nothing to do with long-distance running,” Ji Heng replied. “I just like to explore.”
It was the first time Su Er had heard him talk about this, so he listened closely.
“Like the sailing activity earlier,” Ji Heng continued, “I’ve done many similar things in the past.”
Talking helped distract them from exhaustion. Before long, they reached their destination.
The sea was not calm tonight. Waves surged ashore and quickly retreated, leaving behind traces. The recessed spot on the ground resembled a half-drawn heart. Su Er crouched down, scooped some fine sand, rubbed it between his fingers, then sniffed it. A faint scent of blood lingered.
He exchanged a glance with Ji Heng, and the two began digging in sync.
Their efforts paid off. Just as Su Er’s wrists started to ache, his fingers touched something hard. Wrapping his sleeve around his hand, he dug faster. It wasn’t buried deeply—soon, most of it was visible: a scallop shell the size of a plate.
Su Er pried it open. Inside lay dozens of strange organ-like structures.
“Eyeballs,” Ji Heng said.
Su Er frowned. “Why are these ghosts always obsessed with human organs?”
Scaring people was one thing—why be so disgusting?
Ji Heng, unbothered, pushed the long-stored eyeballs aside and stared at the recess beneath them, a smile playing on his lips. “Found it.”
The groove was just the right size for a heart.
Right then, a gust of cold wind blew against their faces. Ji Heng looked up. Qu Qingming had arrived, her gaze sharp like a blade poised to flay.
“You’re too late,” Ji Heng said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, as if he were looking at a dying insect.
Qu Qingming’s voice was hoarse. “When did you find the heart?”
“Just a moment—”
His words cut off as he suddenly felt Su Er grabbing his hand and placing the heart into the groove.
“Villains die from talking too much,” Su Er said seriously.
As soon as the heart settled in place, the scallop shell closed and slowly sank into the ground. Qu Qingming’s face turned pale. She clutched her chest in pain.
Knowing they had fulfilled the conditions to pass, Su Er turned to Ji Heng. “You can talk to her all you want now.” Then to Qu Qingming, “Got questions? We’re happy to answer.”
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