Pitiful

Translator: Cinder Translations

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You Qi's gaze lingered on Jiang Cheng for a while, his expression gradually turning peculiar. He couldn't see how Jiang Cheng's clothes looked expensive at all. Some edges were frayed, and the craftsmanship was questionable.

"Do we need to change into the clothes of the household?" Zuo Jing, who had been observing, spoke up. Her voice was magnetic and quite distinctive.

Based on the information they had so far, it seemed that Young Master Huang was suffering from some sort of delusional disorder. Patients like this were often afraid of strangers. If the purpose of changing into the household's clothes was to approach him without startling him, it made sense.

"Sort of," Steward Zhou's mustache twitched slightly. "I have other matters to attend to, so she will take you there." He gestured to the middle-aged woman standing behind him.

After saying this, Steward Zhou left, accompanied by a fierce-looking man and a young woman.

"Please follow me, doctors," the middle-aged woman's indifferent voice sounded again.

After passing through several courtyards, everyone gained a new appreciation for the vastness of the Huang residence. One courtyard led to another, connected by crescent-shaped archways, complemented by the ubiquitous openwork structures, creating a sense of spaciousness without any feeling of oppression.

In some almost unnoticeable places, there were carvings of unknown mythical beasts, presumably meant to ward off evil spirits and protect the household.

Moreover, as they walked, such carvings became increasingly numerous.

"If you ask me," Shi Liaozhi, who had been looking around, swallowed hard and whispered, "the young master might already be dead, turned into a ghost, so he can only come out at night, during the day..."

He suddenly stopped speaking.

In fact, not only him, but many others had thought of this possibility. However, thinking it and saying it out loud were two different things. The atmosphere in the group immediately became tense.

If this were true, then they were essentially walking into a trap.

Hearing this, Tang Shirou, who was the most timid, was so frightened that she could barely stand. After all, she was the only one who had seen the young master's "true form" with her own eyes.

Fortunately, An Xuan came over in time to support her, not minding that she leaned against him.

"Don't be afraid, Miss Tang," An Xuan said softly. "I'm here."

"Th-thank you, Mr. An."

"Just stay close to me," An Xuan nodded with a smile.

But in nightmares, some risks are inevitable. For example, if they didn't go now, they wouldn't be able to meet the young master and thus couldn't solve the mystery.

Moreover, it was better to take the initiative during the day than to have the young master come looking for them at night.

After weighing the pros and cons, everyone decided to brace themselves and change into the clothes to visit the young master.

"We're here."

After pushing open a dilapidated wooden door, a meticulously arranged three-story building appeared before everyone. The building's doors and windows were tightly shut, and there was no sound.

On the walls and pillars were paintings of beautiful women singing in operas, their slender fingers and graceful postures depicted vividly.

But combined with what had happened last night, everyone felt a chill in their hearts.

"The young master... lives here?" Shi Liaozhi asked in an unnatural voice.

"Yes."

"Aren't we supposed to change clothes first?" The Fatty blinked. "Why did we come directly to the young master's place?"

Hearing this, the middle-aged woman didn't answer. Instead, she stepped forward and pushed open the door on the first floor of the building. With a creak, the door opened.

Sunlight streamed in, bringing a hint of warmth to the building that hadn't been properly aired for who knows how long.

The middle-aged woman turned around and, in her unchanging tone, stared at everyone and said, "Please change your clothes."

As she stepped aside, something flashed in everyone's eyes, and their breathing became rapid.

The room behind her was filled with opera costumes of various colors.

White, green, blue, azure... but the most captivating was the bright red costume hanging right in the center.

The red costume was blinding, like a sea of blood splashing towards them.

The moment Tang Shirou saw the bright red costume, she froze, her expression already agitated. Then, with a "buzz" in her head, her vision went dark, and she fainted.

It seemed that the "thing" Tang Shirou had seen last night was wearing this bright red costume.

"Are we... still going to change clothes?" The Fatty asked, mustering his courage.

But before he could finish speaking, several figures had already walked into the room. Without bothering with the others, they directly took off their own clothes and started putting on the opera costumes.

A moment later, the Fatty suddenly understood. Although there were many costumes inside, most of them were unfinished. Only the ones further inside were wearable.

And he counted them—exactly nine!

But there were ten of them!

An Xuan reacted the fastest. He immediately dropped the unconscious Tang Shirou, rushed in, and grabbed an azure costume, as if worried someone would snatch it from him.

Just as the Fatty was worried he wouldn't get one and was about to rush in to grab a costume, someone suddenly pulled him from behind. He instinctively turned around and found it was the doctor.

The doctor, however, looked completely at ease, not in a hurry at all.

And the direction he was squinting at—Xia Meng had already changed into a blue costume. Her fair skin paired with the costume made her look even more beautiful.

"Doctor," the Fatty asked in a low but anxious voice, "aren't we going to grab the costumes?"

"What's the rush?" Jiang Cheng said calmly. "There's still her."

Following the direction Jiang Cheng indicated, Tang Shirou was lying on the ground, her face half-covered by her hair, the other half with her eyes tightly closed, seemingly in great pain.

Swallowing hard, he understood the doctor's meaning. As long as Tang Shirou didn't wake up, there would be enough costumes to go around.

But when she woke up, she would face a dilemma: either there would be no costume left for her, or she would have to wear the bright red costume hanging in the center—the one no one dared to touch.

The one the "young master" had worn last night.

Staring at this young woman, the Fatty sighed softly.

"Feeling sorry for her?" Jiang Cheng asked.

"A little," the Fatty admitted without hiding it. "But my pity is useless. Maybe because I've been deceived too many times before, I kept wondering if she was pretending. But now..."

"Anyway, whether she's pretending or not doesn't matter," the Fatty suddenly became somewhat calm. "If she's not pretending, then she's doomed. If she is pretending, then she must have some means or leverage that we're not aware of. So either way, she's definitely not an ally."

"In missions, anyone who isn't an ally should be treated as an enemy," the Fatty said coldly, staring at Tang Shirou. "Once you suspect them, don't give them a chance to draw their guns."

"You taught me that," the Fatty looked up and said, "Doctor."

(End of the Chapter)

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