The Beauty with Terrible Luck Falls in Love with a Ghost - Chapter 43

Somewhat unexpectedly, it was Han Youyou, who had been silent all along, who spoke up: “Dea…d.”

The faint firelight barely illuminated her face, but her heavy, rapid breathing and hoarse voice betrayed her inner turmoil.

Soon, however, the heaving of her chest eased. She tightly covered her nose and mouth, as the cloying scent of blood in the air was almost nauseating.

“Don’t look back!” roared Yang Luoyu No. 3. His hand gripping the lantern was clenched so tightly it trembled, and he repeated, as if trying to convince himself, “No matter what happens, don’t look back, unless you want to become the next An He.”

For once, the living An He did not emphasize that it was an imposter. She clutched the triangular pendant tightly in her hand. Under the dim light, two sides of the pendant were stained blood-red, with only one side still bearing a human figure.

For a while after that, no one spoke. Silence lingered for several minutes.

“Let’s go,” said Jiang Pingcheng No. 2 calmly. He moved to Zuo Lihua’s side, pulled her in front of him, and arranged everyone in a single-file line, just as they had when leaving the safe house. He then pushed her forward.

The others followed silently without a word.

The scene on this side of the wall was no different from the other side: a long, pitch-black path stretched ahead, with no visibility of what lay beyond. They had no choice but to move forward into the darkness.

Yet it wasn’t entirely the same. At least they had left that broken wall behind, distancing themselves from the corpse. The smell of blood gradually faded from their minds, replaced by the familiar damp, musty odor filling their nostrils.

This leg of the journey was even more silent than before, with only the sound of footsteps echoing. Because Jiang Pingcheng was no longer cracking jokes.

Zuo Lihua quickly composed herself, unconsciously stroking the cat’s head with her fingers.

Han Hai’er seemed to be fumbling with something, rustling around repeatedly. Fortunately, they were shrouded in darkness, so the movement of fabric in her pocket went unnoticed.

As Zuo Lihua thought this, something suddenly brushed against her calf. She looked down to find An He’s petite face right before her eyes.

The skin of her face was deathly pale, her eyes bloodshot and vacant as they stared back.

Zuo Lihua shuddered, her breath catching.

In the next moment, a white shadow shot out from her pocket and pounced on [An He]’s head. [An He] thrashed wildly, helplessly dragged into the darkness by the kitten, which was many times smaller than her.

In a daze, Zuo Lihua thought she heard an angry meow.

She breathed in shallow, stiff gasps, her chest rising and falling in quick, small movements. Unsure if anyone else had heard the cat’s cry, and with no one speaking up, she chose to ignore it. Her footsteps could not falter.

A strong sixth sense told her: Don’t stop. Keep going. Move forward.

But the cat was gone. Han Hai’er, the only comfort in this perilous darkness, had chased after [An He] and fallen behind.

Her hand in her pocket curled slightly, the back of it still tingling with the soft, smooth sensation of fur from when Han Hai’er had left. Her fingertips brushed against a crumpled paper ball, hard and unyielding, two entirely different textures.

In the small patch of light, a corner appeared ahead.

Zuo Lihua slowed her pace, raised the lantern, and scanned the area. Aside from the corner, there was no other path.

Her nerves tightened. Holding her breath, muscles tense, she slowed her steps further, listening intently for any movement behind her.

At such close range, those behind must have seen the wall too.

“Lihua,” Yang Luoyu Number One lowered his voice behind him, “watch your step.”

That meant they were going straight ahead.

Zuo Lihua lowered her gaze. The corridor beneath her feet had ended, replaced by a series of wooden steps.

The stairs were of a style from the last century, tall and steep. Having been left unused for many years, the wooden planks groaned under their weight with unsettling creaks that set one’s nerves on edge.

Zuo Lihua had no choice but to slow down, proceeding with caution, one step at a time.

Most of her attention was focused ahead, leaving little for what was behind. So, when a hand shoved her hard from the back, causing her to miss a step and tumble down the stairs, it took her a moment to process what had happened.

Instinctively, she wanted to look back, but the image of [An He]’s body split in two flashed vividly in her mind. Zuo Lihua bit her lip, suppressing the urge to turn around with all her might.

“Sister Lihua! Are you okay?!” Yang Luoyu’s panicked cry came from behind, filled with genuine concern that seemed sincere.

Zuo Lihua paused, restraining her instinct to look back, and her mind cleared. The only person behind her was Yang Luoyu Number One. Being pushed, her immediate reaction was to blame him, but upon second thought, this place was teeming with restless spirits, the culprit might not necessarily be him.

At least the light hadn’t gone out.

Zuo Lihua breathed a sigh of relief.

Perhaps noticing her silence, Yang Luoyu quickened his pace, his shoes hitting the wooden steps with rapid, heavy thuds.

“Sister Lihua?” Yang Luoyu crouched on the step just above her, softly calling her name.

From this angle, the urge to look back grew stronger again.

Zuo Lihua lowered her eyes, licking the blood she had drawn from her lip. The metallic, cloying taste rushed to her brain, scattering the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind.

“Sister Lihua?” An He’s timid voice inquired.

“I’m fine,” Zuo Lihua shook her head, raising the kerosene lamp that had never gone out. Its dim, yellowish light illuminated the iron lock on the wooden door ahead, the crucial point. “It seems we’ve arrived.”

Yang Luoyu No. 1 stepped forward and pushed the door open.

A sudden burst of bright light washed over everyone. They squinted, greedily taking in the illumination, even as the intense glare turned their vision white and burned their eyes, making it impossible to see. Still, they couldn’t bring themselves to close their eyelids.

Seconds ticked by, and once their vision finally adjusted enough to make out their surroundings, their hearts sank abruptly.

“Oh my, Young Master Liu, you’ve finally come! Our girls have missed you so much they’ve been eating half a bowl less!”

“A-Lin’s mother, my sweetheart, my darling, come give me a kiss!” A man dressed in coarse ancient-style clothing puckered his lips toward a beautiful woman. The woman giggled coyly, covering her face with a handkerchief, then delivered a solid slap across his cheek.

The man staggered to the side, spitting out a large, bloody chunk of flesh, likely an internal organ.

Zuo Lihua and the others: “…”

Outside the door, the scene was brilliantly lit and bustling with “people”, lively and noisy.

The only remaining An He hid behind Zuo Lihua, her voice trembling. “What is this?”

Zuo Lihua was also shaking slightly. “It looks like… a brothel?”

Their voices were as faint as the buzzing of mosquitoes, yet they were still discovered. A woman with wrinkled skin, heavily made-up and looking quite formidable, suddenly turned her head toward them. Frowning, she scolded, “Slacking off instead of working? Do you need another beating? You! You! And you! All of you, and you too! Get out there and serve the guests!”

Her finger pointed at several people in turn, and a few servants dressed in uniform stepped forward, arranging them with unmistakable clarity.

An He shrank back. Standing before her was a man with no whites in his eyes, staring motionlessly at her, waiting for her to follow him. She couldn’t make up her mind and was utterly terrified. Instinctively seeking help, she realized that the others had already started following their assigned servants. Only Yang Luoyu remained by her side, and that was only because he had been standing further back and hadn’t yet moved.

Yang Luoyu said, “We’re in their territory now. We have to follow their rules. Ghosts may take lives, but they operate by their own logic. As long as we adhere to it, we can survive.”

Though young, Yang Luoyu was composed, his voice low and firm, his reasoning clear, making it hard not to trust him.

His words flowed into An He’s mind, giving her a sudden sense of stability. Even her fear lessened considerably. Lifting her head, she followed the servant in front of her.

Yang Luoyu, however, was in no hurry. He watched as An He brushed past him, then turned his gaze toward the direction Zuo Lihua had left. His expression was unreadable, as if lost in thought. It wasn’t until the servant in front of him grinned, revealing blood-stained teeth, a clear threat that his neck would be snapped if he didn’t move, that he finally lowered his head and followed.

The moment the servant approached, every cell in Zuo Lihua’s body screamed at her to follow. It was her sixth sense at work, just as it had saved her countless times before. Without hesitation, she stepped forward. Since she was at the very front, she was the first to leave. Only after walking a considerable distance, as the intense sense of crisis began to fade, did she realize she hadn’t even had a chance to say a word to her companions behind her.

Zuo Lihua was led around a corner into a barren, empty corridor.

The servant’s neck twisted unnaturally, his eyeballs rolling erratically in their sockets. Slowly, he raised his hand.

Zuo Lihua instinctively thought he was about to attack, her heart leaping into her throat.

Then she watched as his two thick arms hammered against the wall.

Bang, bang, bang! After several strikes, a hole was smashed through the wall.

A foul, damp, and sticky odor surged out. Zuo Lihua wrinkled her nose uncomfortably. The smell enveloped her, clinging to her skin with a disgusting sensation of being tainted.

A slender, deathly pale hand, adorned with bright red nail polish, reached out. The fingers were immaculate, their graceful curve suggesting a life of luxury, the kind of pampered, highly sought-after courtesan.

“What took you so long?” a coquettish female voice followed. The hand made only a brief appearance before retracting back into the darkness.

Zuo Lihua didn’t dare to breathe.

The servant beside her remained silent.

Perhaps angered by the lack of response, the woman’s voice suddenly sharpened: “Have you gone mute?” Along with her words came the sound of shattering porcelain.

In Zuo Lihua’s mind, the image of a temperamental, top-tier courtesan began to take shape.

The sound of shattering porcelain seemed to act as a signal. The servant cast an expressionless glance at Zuo Lihua, then took a step back, positioning themselves slightly behind her.

Now, Zuo Lihua was completely exposed. An intense sense of crisis prickled her nerves, and her sixth sense began screaming wildly.

It was only at this moment that she suddenly realized the earlier questioning had been part of the “game.” By failing to answer, she had unwittingly triggered another, less favorable “side quest.” Had she answered correctly earlier, she might not have had to confront this eerie presence directly.

So, at this very moment, the servant was actually the safe NPC!

Zuo Lihua’s realization came too late, it was clearly impossible to change course now.

In the dark, musty room, a woman’s lazy, coquettish laughter rang out. “Little mute, come in and help me with my hair. The guests will be arriving soon. If you delay, you’ll see how I punish you~”