A Survival Game Where You Have to Fall in Love with a Madman - Chapter 10

The sound of rain grew heavier, drumming steadily against the windowpane.

You Yan walked over to his computer and opened his folder of room escape designs. A neat array of 492 unfinished concepts lined the screen. He clicked on the most recent one: a project titled “The Ghost Marriage Ancestral Mansion.”

“What’s this?” He Yanqing leaned in closer, his damp hair brushing against You Yan’s cheek.

“A design draft for my next theme,” You Yan said, instinctively flinching back a little. “Chinese gothic horror, centered around a ghost marriage.”

He Yanqing stared at the screen, his expression suddenly turning serious. “That’s our next instance.”

“What?”

“The System reads the memories and phobias of its players to construct its instances.” He Yanqing pointed at the 3D rendering on the screen. “There is a very high probability that your design will become our next battleground.”

You Yan’s finger hovered over the mouse as a sharp cramp twisted his stomach. If this was true, then every single room escape concept he had ever designed could become a deadly game.

Suddenly, the lights in the room flickered violently, and a pop-up window forced its way onto the screen:

[Next Instance: The Ghost Marriage Ancestral Mansion] [Difficulty Rating: B+] [Total Players: 6] [Preparation Time: 12 Hours]

He Yanqing let out a low whistle. “Looks like we’re going to have company.”

You Yan shut his laptop, suddenly overcome by an immense wave of exhaustion. He walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, his fingers unconsciously tracing the surface of his silver lighter.

“Get some rest,” He Yanqing said, his tone uncharacteristically grounded. “Tomorrow is going to be very interesting.” He spread a blanket across the floor, lying down beside You Yan’s bed like a watchful guard dog.

You Yan turned off the lights, keeping his eyes open in the dark. The sound of the rain, He Yanqing’s rhythmic breathing, and the occasional distant honk of a car everything felt so intensely real, yet so entirely illusory.

His right hand began to turn translucent again. This time, there wasn’t even any pain; it vanished soundlessly, like an eraser wiping away a pencil mark.

“He Yanqing,” he called out softly.

“Hmm?” the other man responded instantly, clearly awake as well.

“What if… I really am not human?”

The rustle of fabric cut through the darkness. He Yanqing climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around You Yan from behind. A genuine, solid warmth radiated through their clothes, arresting the spread of the translucency.

“So what?” He Yanqing’s voice murmured next to his ear, laced with a faint chuckle. “I stopped being human a long time ago.”

This time, You Yan did not push him away.

Suddenly, the harsh, grating alarm of the System flared to life: [Warning: Close proximity between entities is strictly prohibited within the Survival Game…] The rest of the message dissolved into a burst of static.

The piercing ring of an alarm jolted You Yan awake.

He opened his eyes to find that He Yanqing was already up, standing by the window and smoking a cigarette. The morning sun cast a golden silhouette over his bare torso, making his scars glint like medals of honor.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” He Yanqing said, blowing a ring of smoke. “Time to hit the road.”

You Yan checked his phone. There was no signal, but a strange countdown timer had appeared on the screen: 03:27:15, ticking down second by second.

“Instance countdown,” He Yanqing said, tossing him a set of black tactical outerwear. “Wear this. It makes moving around easier.”

You Yan changed into the gear, slipping his lighter and scalpel into his pockets. He Yanqing handed him a military combat knife. “Use this. It’s a hell of a lot stronger than that crappy scalpel of yours.”

They managed a quick breakfast if instant noodles could even be called breakfast. By then, the countdown had reached its final hour.

Suddenly, the apartment door began to rattle violently, and spiderweb cracks crept across the window glass. You Yan gripped the armrest of the sofa just as he saw He Yanqing’s pupils constrict into dangerous, vertical slits—the precursor to him activating his abilities.

The moment the bookshelf collapsed with a roar, the man who usually did nothing but joke around shielded You Yan with his own body. Three bloody gashes tore across his back from the flying shards of glass.

“It’s starting.” He Yanqing’s voice trembled with a bloodthirsty thrill. He gave a delighted lick to his canine teeth as his wounds began to close up at a speed visible to the naked eye.

A swirling black vortex manifested in the center of the room, and a mechanical voice pierced through their eardrums:

[Players You Yan and He Yanqing, preparing to enter the instance: ‘The Ghost Marriage Ancestral Mansion’]

[Instance Lore Introduction:] During the Guangxu era of the late Qing Dynasty, the Cheng family magnates of the Jiangsu-Zhejiang salt trade held an underworld wedding ritual for their prematurely deceased only son, Cheng Hao. They forcibly abducted a young girl from a impoverished family, Jiang Wan, to be buried alive alongside him as his spirit bride. On the night of the funeral procession, a torrential downpour struck. As the entourage passed through a pauper’s graveyard, blood began to seep from the coffin, and the eight palanquin bearers dropped dead under bizarre circumstances.

Since then, every night at the stroke of midnight, the sound of bridal suona horns and the weeping prayers of a woman echo through the Cheng estate. Every door and window bleeds a thick, metallic crimson dew, and the century-old scholar tree in the courtyard became draped overnight in faded double-happiness silks. In the early years of the Republic of China, the Cheng estate vanished from the face of the earth. Now, only on the night of a full moon will a blue-brick courtyard wall, plastered with blood-stained double-happiness talismans, materialize in the desolate wilderness…

[Main Quest: This instance is a Team Survival Mode. Survive until the conclusion of the wedding to clear the game.] [Sub-Quest: Eliminate the instance Bride. Locate the scattered concentric knots (0/3).] [Special Notice: Do not look the Bride directly in the eyes.] [Game Livestream is now live. Wishing all players a successful survival.]

He Yanqing grabbed You Yan’s hand. His palm felt as cold as a corpse. “Don’t let go, or we’ll get teleported to different locations.”

As they plummeted into the abyss, You Yan caught his whisper right next to his ear: “Remember, the gap in your memory regarding how you became a player is your fatal flaw…”

A wave of foul stench mixed with the aroma of aged sandalwood slammed into his senses.

You Yan found himself standing before a set of faded, vermilion-painted grand gates. The door knockers were shaped like ferocious Taotie beasts, with green copper rust congealing down them like tear stains.

The sky was grim and overcast. Faded red silks hung from the lintel of the old mansion, and two white lanterns swayed creakily in the wind. The panel on his wrist indicated that it was three o’clock in the morning, but the sky was a bizarre, murky dark green, resembling jade soaking inside a copper furnace.

He Yanqing was nowhere to be seen.

“He Yanqing?” You Yan called out in a low voice. There was no reply.

The echo bounced off the screen wall, warping into what sounded like a child’s whimper. You Yan gripped his combat knife tightly and rounded the wall. Suddenly, a floor full of joss paper whipped up into the air without any wind, arranging themselves into the character for death: (Mourning).

Creeeeak—

The grand doors of the ancient mansion slowly groaned open. The moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating a black coffin emblazoned with a crimson (Double Happiness) character. The shade of red was so vivid it looked like it had just been freshly painted with wet blood.

A lock of long black hair dangled from the seam of the coffin lid, its tips writhing slowly. You Yan took half a step back, only for the back of his neck to hit something ice-cold.

“The fifth player has finally arrived.”

A strange male voice drifted from behind him. You Yan turned around sharply to see a tall man standing beside a veranda pillar.

He wore a meticulously tailored, black Sun Yat-sen suit. A silver pocket watch was pinned to his lapel, its chain adorned with a miniature Bagua mirror. His facial features were sharp and deep-set, and he was casually twirling a string of jade prayer beads in his hand.

“Jiu Chenjing,” the man introduced himself, his voice detached. “Looks like this one is a six-player instance.”

The players watching the livestream instantly blew up the chat:

[ID: Wangzai, You’re Looking Hot~] Jiu the Boss and Gaffer He are in the same instance again?!! [ID: The Prayer Beads Boss Jiu Loves to Touch] This stream is going to be epic. They’re both top-tier pros. [ID: The Wave-Riding Sect That Loves Aged Vinegar Jellyfish] Look over there, the Main God Instance Informant is in this game too! [ID: Mentally Sane Lazy Sheep] Doesn’t that mean clearing this is going to be a walk in the park??

You Yan did not lower his guard. “You Yan,” he replied, keeping his voice just loud enough for Jiu Chenjing to hear. Revealing one’s real name so casually in an instance wasn’t a smart move, unless one possessed absolute strength to guarantee survival against specific cursed items.

“I know who you are,” Jiu Chenjing said, stepping closer, his sharp eyes pinning You Yan like a hawk. “The NPC who ripped out a monster doctor’s heart with his bare hands. The anomaly in the System. He Yanqing’s new toy.”

He let out a cold snort, using his string of prayer beads to tilt You Yan’s chin upward. “Let me see what a rule-bending former NPC actually…”

Before You Yan could fire back, the sound of slicing air cut the words short.

He Yanqing’s short knife grazed past Jiu Chenjing’s ear and embedded itself deeply into the doorframe. The red string wrapped around the hilt suddenly snapped taut, violently choking back a dark shadow that was trying to crawl out of the coffin.

The black coffin let out a muffled thud as eight peach-wood stakes violently burst outward from the inside. A foul-smelling fluid seeped along the grain of the wood, pooling into a ritualistic array.

A familiar, airy chuckle drifted down from above. He Yanqing was hanging upside down from the eaves, the hem of his red coat soaked in fresh blood.

“My, my, Boss Jiu. Touching what’s mine is going to cost you extra.”

He Yanqing dropped down gracefully, landing right beside You Yan and naturally throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t let him scare you, my little theorist. Boss Jiu just has a cold face but a warm heart.”

The distinct smell of burning corpse oil wafted through the air. You Yan scanned his surroundings, his gaze settling on the three remaining players huddling in the corner.

Jiu Chenjing frowned. “He Yanqing, don’t screw around this time. A B+ rank instance is no joke.”

“When have you ever seen me screw up?” He Yanqing retorted with a grin. However, out of sight, his finger was subtly tracing characters onto You Yan’s back: Watch out for him.