Into the Trap
Translator: Cinder Translations
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Zhou Rong took a deep breath and said nothing.
Upon hearing this, Pei Qian couldn't hold back any longer and sneered coldly, "Mr. Yin is indeed thoughtful."
Now that they had entered the building, they couldn't do anything to Jiang Cheng, and thus a matter that could have been serious was left unresolved.
His gaze slowly swept across the room. It was unclear whether the room's layout was problematic or if it had been renovated, but even though it was noon, the room still felt gloomy.
It was as if a gray filter had been placed over everything.
The three of them dared not separate, so after Zhou Rong briefly determined the direction, they moved toward the area with slightly better lighting.
As before, Zhou Rong was first, Pei Qian in the middle, and Jiang Cheng stayed at the back, in case the ghosts cut off their escape route.
The floor was made of old-fashioned mud and gray tiles, so it didn't make the creaking sounds that old wooden floors would, which helped reduce the risk of being exposed.
Though none of them actually expected this to fool the ghosts.
Still, it was somewhat reassuring.
They had entered what seemed to be a living room, which was very large. Zhou Rong approached a slightly translucent wooden plank and slowly exerted force to pry it open.
Sunlight filtered through, and the visibility improved considerably.
The room's décor had a vintage feel, with intricately carved wooden chairs and a thick table that looked very heavy.
The table was stacked in the corner of the room, and Pei Qian seemed to have noticed something. He walked over and touched it, and after a few seconds, his expression changed drastically. "Locust wood?"
"Locust wood?" Zhou Rong immediately stepped forward and examined the large, heavy wooden table, though it was clear he wasn't knowledgeable about the material.
After a moment, Zhou Rong turned his head and asked seriously, "Are you sure it's locust wood?"
Pei Qian nodded emphatically, his eyes even showing a hint of fear.
For an artist, especially a Chinese painter, some older painters were very conservative, and sometimes for inspiration, they would venture to the countryside.
There was a saying among the people: "Locust wood doesn't make coffins, willow wood doesn't build houses."
The character for "locust" in Chinese includes the "wood" radical, and it also has the meaning of "ghost" or "death wood."
Used for coffins, it was said that it brought suffering to the deceased, and worse, it could disturb the peace of the home. Old locust wood was also commonly used in carvings placed near coffins, to ward off evil spirits.
In a place like this old mountain village, where customs were highly regarded, and in a wealthy family, how could such a large locust wood table appear?
Wasn't this essentially cursing themselves?
Moreover, the table was positioned in the darkest, most humid corner of the room, giving it a suffocating feel.
Something flashed rapidly in Pei Qian's eyes, as if he was thinking, but more than that, he was confused.
However, his confusion was quickly overwhelmed by the rising fear.
"Not good!" Pei Qian shouted, "This room is not meant for people to live in!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Though his voice wasn't loud, in such an environment, anyone with ears would definitely hear him.
Not to mention ghosts.
What surprised Pei Qian was that neither Zhou Rong nor Jiang Cheng seemed to stop him. They didn't even look at him, but instead, they were nervously scanning their surroundings.
Pei Qian immediately shut his mouth and followed their gaze. His breathing grew frantic.
At some point, the surrounding environment had returned to the gray, misty state. The wooden plank Zhou Rong had pried off earlier was still embedded in the wall.
The edges of the wooden board were secured with dozens of thick iron nails, as if it were unbreakable.
What made Pei Qian even more desperate was when he turned around and realized that the window they had entered through had vanished.
At this moment, the advantage of being seasoned players over new players became apparent. None of them screamed or panicked; instead, they immediately gathered together, pressing their bodies against the wall.
At least they ensured that the ghosts wouldn't be able to attack them from behind.
As time passed, their breathing grew quieter, and even their heartbeats seemed to be suppressed within an acceptable range.
Zhou Rong had the habit of meditating. At this moment, he crouched in a corner. If it weren't for his vigilant eyes scanning the surroundings, one might think he had fallen asleep.
Pei Qian, who had just lost his composure, had now regained his calm. As a skilled Chinese painter, he always took time to meditate before painting, to clear his mind and enter the right state of focus.
In contrast to their expertise, Jiang Cheng seemed much more amateurish. He simply leaned against the wall, motionless and silent, his body not even rising with his breath.
On the other hand, if viewed from a different angle, Jiang Cheng blended into the gray environment, almost invisible.
Under his loose pants, his muscles were tense.
Unlike Zhou Rong and Pei Qian, who were focused on hiding, Jiang Cheng seemed to have other plans.
"Do-do. Do-do."
"Do-do. Do-do."
Suddenly, a sound echoed in their ears.
It wasn't fast, but it was forceful, and it didn't feel strange, because Jiang Cheng recognized the sound.
He searched through his memory, and in the next second, the image of Fatty's big face popped into his mind.
He could almost imagine how terrified Fatty would be if he were here.
In the three seconds after thinking of Fatty, Jiang Cheng's pupils suddenly contracted, and he realized what the sound was.
It was the sound of chopping vegetables.
The noise made when a kitchen knife cuts through vegetables and hits the chopping board.
The sound was muffled, and just by hearing it, Jiang Cheng could imagine that the knife being used was no ordinary kitchen knife.
It must be a heavy cleaver capable of chopping through bones.
In this bizarre building… someone was chopping vegetables!
With a huge knife!!
Zhou Rong and Pei Qian, both experienced players, quickly realized what the sound implied. They all turned to look toward the source of the noise.
It came from the other side of the room.
There was a slightly ajar door, and the sound was coming from within.
Light could be seen leaking through the door.
Zhou Rong's throat constricted.
Pei Qian's face turned ashen.
As veteran players, they wouldn't comfort themselves by thinking that the person behind the door was just a woman or young girl who had wandered into the building and was now cooking because she was hungry.
The more likely reality was that there was a terrifying ghost inside, holding a huge, mysterious knife, chopping something.
What could it be?
Zhou Rong suddenly thought of something from the night before.
Li Lu had drunk a bowl of meat soup.
(End of the Chapter)
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