Zhu Yun had left. Teng Snake Lord considered whether it might be wiser to abandon his report and flee first. Yet when he was about to act, the door had already been forcibly sealed. Under countless resentful gazes, Teng Snake Lord did his utmost to appear calm and unruffled. He took a deep breath, flew to the front of the display screen, and declared: “Su Er is very good at exploiting loopholes, but that is as a player. If he becomes a host, this ability will hardly be effective.”
This remark won the agreement of quite a few people below.
The display flickered.
Seeing that there might be a chance to turn the situation around, Teng Snake Lord felt slightly relieved.
“Improving one’s personal qualities is especially important,” a clear, cool voice rang out. “Only by putting oneself in the player’s place can one know what they are thinking, and thereby improve one’s professional skills.”
Who?
Teng Snake Lord swept the hall with a sharp gaze, finally fixing his eyes on the shoulder of Mister Rose, staring at the clay figure with open hostility. “Since when was it your place to speak here?”
At this, Mister Rose lifted his gaze and smiled coldly. “As a host, if you fear a single player, are you not useless?”
“......”a
Struck head-on, Teng Snake Lord was so furious that even the beat of his wings faltered.
Mister Rose rose to his feet. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If you cannot retaliate against Su Er, then shut your mouth.”
Outside in the twisting corridors, Mister Rose stopped walking. Though he said nothing, the little clay figures could already feel danger. If they could not provide a convincing explanation, their lives might be forfeit today.
First-generation clay figure remained rational. “To ensure Su Er’s safety and the fairness of the instance, the game will surely seal away the host’s strength. That way, we can become your assistance. Furthermore, the final victor will not go without reward. Others suffer, and you reap the benefits—why not?”
Last-generation clay figure added: “Su Er is not invincible. Things may well turn around later. In any case, there is no loss in this gamble.”
The Future Ghost King: “My father Su Er, all—”
Before he could say anything even more detrimental, First-generation clay figure quickly covered his mouth.
Their reasoning was sound. Mister Rose lowered his head in thought, his gaze inscrutable.
“The holidays are finally here.”
Dragging his suitcase out of the school gates, Su Er let out a long sigh.
It was different from high school—his expectations for university vacations were far lower, since life on campus was already free. The only drawback was that, earlier in the year, a serial killer had appeared nearby. To prevent tragedies, the school had been under semi-lockdown for half a semester. Even local students had to board on campus and could not leave with a request slip.
Dating under those circumstances meant he and Ji Heng had been limited to video calls—a bitter ordeal.
At this moment, Ji Heng was already waiting by the gate. He strode over to help carry the luggage. The two of them standing together, both handsome, inevitably drew some stares. Su Er ignored them, slipped straight into the passenger seat.
Ji Heng got in a moment later, producing several charts. They listed different restaurants, foods, and atmospheres, with home-cooked options as well. He had even itemized dishes he himself was skilled at cooking—perfect for someone who struggled with choices.
“Take a look—what do you feel like eating?”
Glancing at the charts, Su Er felt in good spirits. “I want to make the most of this break and go traveling somewhere.”
Ji Heng nodded. “Sure.”
A few destinations popped into Su Er’s mind. Just as he was about to search for travel guides online, a small card appeared out of nowhere inside the car. It floated in midair before landing on his lap. Opening it, he found a line of words at the top: Seven-Day Tour for the Host. Below was a form requesting basic personal information.
“Persistent as a ghost,” Su Er muttered, shaking his head.
Ji Heng also saw the note. “Any other details?”
Su Er flipped through until he found the rest of the description: “The game promises to ensure my safety. The temporary host’s reward is one hundred—”
“One hundred what?”
Su Er’s expression didn’t change. “That’s not important. Once the hosting is done, the game will take care of the serial killer nearby.”
But Ji Heng’s eyes had already caught the unfinished line he hadn’t spoken aloud—
One hundred large-scale wild photos of Ji Heng in the game.
“......”a
Normally, unless supernatural beings were involved, the game’s surveillance would automatically retract when players bathed or used the restroom. But special cases—swimming, sudden changes of clothes, and the like—were exceptions.
Pulling up old records and grabbing a few screenshots would be easy for the game.
Su Er began filling in the form.
Quietly, Ji Heng asked, “You’re going?”
Without lifting his head, Su Er replied: “That killer is extremely cunning. Once he went into hiding, even the police were at their wits’ end. To ensure public safety and give students a healthy environment…”
Ji Heng cut him off. “Not for the photos?”
Su Er shook his head, frowning. “How could you think that?”
Ji Heng believed him—until, suddenly, new words appeared on the reward line of the card.
[Two hundred shots.]
[One hundred fifty.]
[One hundred eighty, not a single one less!]
Clearly, someone was using the card as a medium to haggle with the game.
“Heh.”
A faint sound slipped into his ear. Su Er followed with a hollow chuckle. “All a misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding.”
Whether it was real or feigned, in the end, he still took the role of host.
Su Er was responsible for helping with part of the task design. The game temporarily picked an instance world and gave him a rough outline of it in advance.
[Please read carefully. Time remaining until dungeon opens: 3 hours, 2 minutes, 20 seconds.]
After the system’s prompt, Su Er found himself alone in an empty, desolate space. Back in high school, he had trained himself to read ten lines at a glance. In just half the allotted time, he had already memorized the entire document word for word.
The remaining time could only be killed by wandering aimlessly. Just as he was growing bored, the countdown began—
[Three… two… one. Fixed-point teleportation commencing.]
Su Er appeared at a mountain pass. The road led to a graveyard, and behind him stretched a mountainside holding at least a thousand buried corpses.
As the host, he arrived first. Five minutes later, the players of this round appeared one after another. They were all familiar faces, except for the little girl who liked to carry a lantern.
“The Minor Host Protection Law…” Mister Sea of Books, still reading without pause, seemed to sense Su Er’s thoughts. He explained, “Feng Wu won’t be coming this time.”
Feng Wu?
Su Er raised a brow. Quite the fancy name for such a brat. His gaze shifted to a man standing on the edge. Curious, he asked, “And you are?”
The man’s hat obscured his features, but when Su Er bent down slightly, he caught part of his face. It seemed to be the mysterious man who had sent him and Ji Heng to the last instance.
Princess Tea Flower, cold as ever, said flatly: “He was the host of that instance. Just a trick of appearances.”
Su Er still didn’t quite follow.
The Smiling Merchant offered clarification, slowly uttering two words: “A statue.”
“......”a
Skipping that awkward subject, Su Er glanced at their chest tags.
Even for a large instance, there would be no more than a dozen people. The game hadn’t assigned many hosts, and every player chosen had previously been under Su Er’s hosting—supposedly for “special training.”
The hosts’ original powers were sealed. The strength they had now was carefully balanced. The tags displayed only their names, plus physical power and spiritual power. Charm was not included. Everyone’s stats were identical, based on the average of all players.
In other words, inside the instance, everyone’s strength was essentially the same.
The only exceptions were that each host could bring three items. Their power would be scaled down to fit the instance’s limits.
And then there was Mister Rose. His clay figures had not been confiscated. Since the game could not definitively classify their existence—they were more like fragments shed by a Painted-Skin Ghost—their abilities were weak, and it was unclear whether they counted as independent entities.
“Greetings, everyone.” Taking in the scene, Su Er displayed a professional smile. “I am your host for this round—the College Entrance Exam Champion.”
“......”a
In the silence, the Smiling Merchant couldn’t help blurting out: “You? The College Entrance Exam Champion?”
Su Er, skilled as he was in business, could tell the man’s math was poor.
“It’s just a title,” Su Er replied, expression cooling. “Who said it had to be real?”
What’s wrong with a little fun?
The Smiling Merchant sighed. “Tell us the mission, then.”
Thick skin is sometimes needed in business, but compared to Su Er, the merchant knew he fell short.
“Born of the earth, buried in the earth—burials have a long history. In recent years, cremation has become more common, with many advantages: conserving land, convenient for rituals, better for the environment. But there is one more thing…”
Catching the essence of a host’s style, Su Er’s lips curved into a peculiar smile. “Some things, once put into the earth, may yet have the chance to crawl back out. Please work together. Within seven days, help a sleeper named Zhao Shinan close his eyes. He was buried with his eyes open, and for hundreds of years, he has not slept a single good night.”
The mountain wind was cold and harsh. His words carried a chilling atmosphere.
“One special note: death in this instance will not cause true death. But losers will experience, in full, the pain of dying.”
Scoffing voices came from among the now-player-hosts. Clearly, they didn’t care about pain.
As if expecting this, Su Er added gently: “Later, your performance will be compiled into teaching material, shown to other hosts as a lesson. If you die too miserably, you’ll be mocked.”
Teng Snake Lord reflexively wanted to flap his wings, but he now had a human form—one of the game’s enforced rules for fairness. Deprived of that outlet, he could only vent through words. “This must be one of your damned ideas!”
Su Er smiled faintly, answering without a flicker of emotion. “No, this really was the game’s arrangement. My damned idea comes later.”
“......”a
“The victor’s reward is three thousand wisps of Yin energy, plus one Exchange Coupon.”
Teng Snake Lord: “Exchange Coupon?”
Su Er: “If you don’t want to host a certain instance, you can use an Exchange Coupon to change it.”
In the past, nobody cared about Exchange Coupons. But after Su Er’s experience, they realized that just in case, such things were absolutely necessary.
Su Er: “It’s taboo to shout and make a racket in front of a grave. To make communication easier for everyone, communicators have been provided.”
“I’m sorry, the number you’ve dialed is out of service…”
As he was speaking, a choppy voice came through.
And it wasn’t just one voice—layer upon layer of overlapping voices wove together.
To avoid any mishap, the game temporarily increased Su Er’s physical power. With his extraordinary senses, he quickly locked onto a few sources of the sound. The ones making the calls were Mister East Wind, Mister Pu Liu, and Divine Seer—and they were all calling the same number.
“It’s useless.” Su Er smiled. “This is a special communicator, it can only be used between players. But I’m actually pleased you thought of calling the police. Especially you, Divine Seer—giving up metaphysics to actively seek outside help is real progress.”
“......”a
The other hosts immediately looked at those three oddly. Calling the police? How did they even come up with such a ghost-busting move?
Can they even continue practicing ‘feudal superstition’ properly at this rate?
Su Er rarely wasted words. He clapped his hands: “If there’s no problem, I now declare the game officially begun.”
The mountain path was rugged and hard to walk.
Their spatial transfer abilities had been sealed. Hosts who once had boundless magical powers now had no choice but to rely on physical strength and slowly climb.
Teng Snake Lord glared at Su Er with great distaste: “Can you stop swaying around in front of me?”
Su Er actually humbly took his advice and shifted to walking in the shadows.
“There’s no need for verbal squabbles.” Mister Sea of Book, who had hardly spoken since entering, finally said calmly. “Though we’ve lost our powers, if we make use of our tools and stick together, we can finish the task within a day.”
This was no exaggeration. Compared with ordinary players, hosts had a natural advantage—they were deeply familiar with all the game’s tricks. To put it bluntly, many instances weren’t actually difficult; the real reason for the low clear rate was the suspicion, rivalry… and even rule-exploiting slaughter among players themselves.
But as old hands in the business, attempts at sowing discord hardly worked on them.
At the cemetery entrance stood an old woman. Ordinarily, a wandering soul like her could be crushed to death with a single finger from the hosts, but now they were forced to halt.
As a newly opened instance, the spirits inside didn’t recognize the hosts, much less fear them.
The old woman’s face barely had any flesh left, skin sagging loosely over her bones. She struck the ground twice with her cane: “The world of the dead allows no lies. Anyone who wants to enter must have a true heart.”
Though aged, her eyes gleamed with shrewdness: “You must first send two people forward to answer my questions. Remember—truth only.”
The most learned among them was Mister Sea of Book, but since the crone emphasized “truth,” it might actually be a disadvantage to know too much. After weighing the risks, Teng Snake Lord stepped forward first, followed by Mister Pu Liu.
“Ready?” The old woman cackled strangely.
Teng Snake Lord, of course, wouldn’t be frightened by her, and calmly nodded.
Then, her cane suddenly sprouted upward like a sapling, shooting higher and branching off. From one of the branches hung a silver thread, thin as spider silk, which coiled around Mister Pu Liu’s wrist.
From afar, the cane’s transformation resembled a scale. But instead of a weight, the opposite end hung an axe. A mysterious force shifted Teng Snake Lord’s position, setting him on the other side of the scale.
The old woman: “The two of you now stand under the ‘Scales of Truth.’ One will answer questions, and if there’s even half a lie, the axe on the other side will fall.”
In other words, if Mister Pu Liu lied, Teng Snake Lord would be killed by the axe.
The old woman produced a thick stack of cards: “What is your name?”
Mister Pu Liu looked at the stack uneasily, but still answered truthfully.
The old woman nodded, pulling just one card from the pile while the rest vanished back into her hand. “Three questions left… Tell me, have you ever been persecuted by Su Er?”
Mister Pu Liu instantly understood the real purpose of this game: to sow discord among the hosts.
Such a malicious trap—it wasn’t hard to guess who designed it.
Glancing at Su Er, who was smiling like a flower not far away, Mister Pu Liu said coldly, “No.”
Among the remaining hosts, aside from Green Lotus Sage, their moods immediately turned complicated… so, there was actually one who hadn’t been trampled on by Su Er, a traitor in their midst!
The old woman eyed the scales, licking her dry lips: “Very good. I like honest children.”
She then asked: “Have you ever privately paid attention to Su Er’s persecution of other hosts?”
Mister Pu Liu’s eyelid twitched. At last, he slowly nodded.
The old woman’s voice rose with excitement: “Now, the final question! Whenever you hear of someone else suffering misfortune because of him, do you feel delight—smiling, your heart bursting with joy, feeling life couldn’t be more wonderful, and yourself a one-in-a-million lucky man?”
Mister Pu Liu’s lips moved but no sound came.
The axe on the other side of the scale began to stir, as if about to drop.
“Ten seconds left. Timeout will be counted as failure.”
Mister Pu Liu closed his eyes. Lying was pointless—deny it now, and the falling axe would expose the truth anyway. Gritting his teeth, he said: “Yes.”
“Beast!” cursed Teng Snake Lord, having been implicated twice.
The others also looked at Mister Pu Liu with icy disdain.
This was clearly Su Er’s attempt at sowing discord. Mister Pu Liu understood this, and of course so did the rest—but emotional anger wasn’t something reason could always restrain.
“Well then.” The Gravekeeper’s Servant, who had also been persecuted before, sneered. “So you actually enjoy that sort of pastime.”
The silver thread around his wrist was withdrawn. Mister Pu Liu returned to the group, face dark.
The old woman ignored their bickering: “Next group.”
Divine Seer frowned: “Does everyone have to be tested?”
The old woman said mysteriously: “Truth is cruel. Sometimes it’s even disgusting. Too much of it makes me uncomfortable! One more group, and then you may enter the grounds.”
Judging from her earlier move, she must have been using the names to draw out the question cards. And the one who wrote the questions was definitely Su Er.
But they couldn’t lie about names—so they had no choice but to play along.
This time, however, no host volunteered. Who knew what kind of questions they might face? Offending others was the best case.
All the while, Su Er, who had been standing idly in the shadows enjoying the show, pretended to be kindly helpful: “Don’t be afraid. Aren’t we all good colleagues on ordinary days?”
“......”
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