Going up from the twenty-second floor, the musty smell in the stairwell gradually faded.
In its place was an exceptionally thick smell of ash from burned incense, candles, and paper money.
It was so thick that every breath felt as though sticky incense ash was coating the throat. Swallowing even left a distinct sensation of a foreign object lodged inside.
The three of them suppressed the urge to cough, keeping the first taboo firmly in mind so Uncle Biao wouldn't notice anything amiss.
Uncle Biao walked ahead with his hands behind his back, his flat body floating light as a feather.
“Further up, there's a communal kitchen that the tenants chipped in to set up.”
He floated upward without looking back, his voice slow and leisurely.
“The pots, pans, and bowls all belong to individual households. Don't go messing with them when you're patrolling. If you break something, they'll definitely make you pay.
Some of the old ghosts have nasty tempers. If they splash boiling water all over you, even I won't be able to help you.”
Chen Xi nodded in agreement, her gaze sweeping across the open space at the corner of this landing.
Though it was called a communal kitchen, there was no sign of any fire.
The higher they went, the stronger the wind blew.
From the twenty-third floor up, the windows were completely bare, devoid of glass, allowing the chilling wind to howl inside.
Chen Xi felt as though a layer of paper ash had been stuffed up her nostrils.
“Those living up here are all old ghosts. Some have been dead for two or three hundred years.”
Uncle Biao slowed his pace and lowered his voice slightly.
“Old ghosts have strange temperaments and prefer peace and quiet. Don't go to the rooftop when you're patrolling. I won't be responsible if anything happens.”
He spoke nonchalantly, but the warning carried heavy weight.
The group softened their footsteps.
As they passed a door that looked charred, they caught a glimpse of a faint red glow slipping through the gap beneath it, as if someone had lit a candle inside.
“Scratch, scratch, scratch—”
A hand with long fingernails suddenly reached out from under the door, grabbed a handful of incense ash from the floor, and quickly retracted.
Uncle Biao acted as if he hadn't seen a thing and continued straight up.
Reaching the rooftop entrance, Uncle Biao came to a halt.
A large brass lock hung from the iron door to the rooftop, looking completely rusted shut.
Several yellow talismans were wrapped around the door hinges, the paper already blackened.
“See? The rooftop is off-limits.”
Uncle Biao's tone grew serious, stripped of his previous casualness. “It's locked tight, so don't bother going. In the past, some tenants didn't believe in the danger and went inside. They never came back.”
He repeatedly warned them twice before turning to head back down.
“Alright, that's about it. The daytime is your rest period. At night, you'll patrol twice—once at one and once at four.
During the second patrol, insert three sticks of incense at the doorway of every household on every floor. Leave immediately after doing so. Do not engage in conversation, and do not linger.”
“This building has thirty-three floors in total and houses forty-four households. There aren't too many ghosts. As long as you keep to the rules, you'll be fine.”
On the way down, Uncle Biao pointed at the plastic bag in Chen Xi's hand.
“Everything is in there. Use them sparingly. If you lose them and ask me for more, it'll cost you.”
He paused, squinting his eyes as he scanned the group.
“Let me remind you all one more time: in this place, big ghosts eat little ghosts. You newly dead ghosts shouldn't wander around outside for no reason. It's safest to stay inside the building.
If you wander out and get caught and eaten by a big ghost, I won't be coming to save you.”
With that, he waved his hand and floated away, jingling his keyring.
He was likely heading back to the first floor.
The remaining three stood at the stairwell landing of the seventeenth floor, exchanging glances.
“Big ghosts eat little ghosts...”
Jiang Chen frowned as he analyzed, “What did he mean by that? Does he think we're 'ghosts' too?”
“It's probably our character settings.”
Chen Xi put away the incense. “Our current identity is the new security guards. In the eyes of the native residents, we're no different from the wandering spirits in this building.”
“This building is full of ghosts. As living people, we're actually the odd ones out here.”
Kang Xiaojia was the most cowardly. Only now did the fear catch up to her, making her legs turn to jelly.
“Uncle Biao looks fierce, but he's actually looking out for us quite a bit by telling us so many rules.”
“Looking out for us is one thing, but he definitely won't lift a finger if something actually goes wrong.”
Jiang Chen shook his head. “Let's look at our quarters first. We need to settle in quickly and get some rest. We have to patrol again at four in the morning.”
After climbing thirty flights of stairs, all he wanted was to find a place to rest as soon as possible.
The three of them walked to the end of the corridor, where four subdivided flats stood side by side. The paint on the wooden doors was peeling, and the crooked room numbers were all backward.
Lin Jianguo, Wang Lei, and Zheng Wenxuan were already waiting there, their faces looking rather grim.
...
“Captain, none of them look good,” Zheng Wenxuan whispered, as if afraid of disturbing something.
“Room 1701 has one bed, and there's a water ghost lying on it. It's soaking wet and has been muttering non-stop.”
“Room 1702 has two beds. There's a family portrait hanging on the wall, and a sweet scent is wafting from the kitchen. It smells like sweet soup, which is a bit strange.”
“Room 1703 also has two beds. It looks pretty clean and doesn't have any weird things. Uncle Lin checked it with a skill earlier, and this room is the 'cleanest'.”
“Room 1704 has three beds, but on the one closest to the door, there's an unmarked memorial tablet.”
Chen Xi nodded, turning the doorknobs to inspect the rooms one by one.
Room 1701 was extremely small, barely over two square meters, with a metal bunk bed crammed tightly inside.
A man—no, rather, a male ghost—lay on his side on the bottom bunk.
He was drenched from head to toe, water dripping from his hair, his clothes clinging tightly to his back.
Water droplets trickled down the edge of the bed, pooling into a dark brown puddle on the floor.
The ghost's face was turned toward the wall as he mumbled incoherently, his voice sounding as if it were coming from deep underwater:
“It's raining... Mom's calling me home... she made sweet soup...”
“It's raining... I want to go home...”
He repeated those few lines over and over—sounding like a drowning person squeezing words out of their chest with their dying breath.
The room was incredibly damp. The wallpaper was bloated, and the air was so wet that it felt as though anyone who entered would instantly sprout gills.
“A water ghost.”
Chen Xi only took one glance before backing out, closing the door behind her.
If they chose this room, they would have to share a bed with a ghost.
The second room was 1702.
When the door opened, a sweet, cloying scent of dessert soup rushed out, carrying a hint of ginger. It smelled warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the damp chill of 1701.
This room was slightly larger, with a wider bed set against the wall, partitioned by a curtain in the middle.
On a table less than half a step from the bed sat a neatly arranged plate of roasted meat rice cakes that actually looked quite delicious.
Since they all carried the 【Thousand-Mile Hunger-Free Pill】 with them, they had no interest in food found inside the Instance.
Hanging on the wall directly opposite the door was a black-and-white memorial portrait.
The photo showed a family of three:
A dark-skinned man with thick lips was bent low at the waist—because a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old student was riding on his neck.
The student was quite large, his weight pressing the man's spine so hard that it protruded, and the man's head hung almost to his chest.
A woman in a white shirt stood beside them, her arm bent backward at a bizarre angle, with bone visibly piercing through her skin.
The proportions of the entire photo were warped, exuding an indescribable eeriness.
It looked as though the family of three had been forcibly "posed" inside by some entity.
...
The third room was 1703.
Just as Lin Jianguo had said, this room was clean and free of any anomalies.
There were no memorial portraits, tablets, or ghosts. Two single beds faced each other, almost touching.
Though they were piled with old newspapers and miscellaneous items, compared to the other three rooms, this place felt like an entirely different world.
Lin Jianguo looked at Chen Xi's back, feeling a bit anxious.
He had checked with his skill, 【Ox Eyes】.
There was not a trace of dark energy in the room. It was a safe house, absolutely the safest of the four.
However, keeping his expression neutral, he stepped forward and spoke to Chen Xi:
“This one looks alright to me. No weird things. I just don't know if there's any catch.”
“I think it's great!”
Wang Lei quickly chimed in beside him, seizing the opportunity. “Uncle Lin, since these two beds are so close, why don't we stay in this room?”
Lin Jianguo feigned hesitation for a couple of seconds before nodding. “Alright, let's take this one. We can squeeze in together; two beds are just right.”
Chen Xi glanced at him but didn't say anything.
Jiang Chen crossed his arms and let out a clear, scoffing laugh.
Lin Jianguo didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt for snatching the safe house. After all, it was every man for himself.
...
The last room was 1704.
The moment the door opened, a heavy scent of incense and candles billowed out, making everyone cough.
There were three beds in the room. The one closest to the door had no bedding; instead, a black wooden memorial tablet stood upright and neat upon it.
The tablet was completely blank, with no name carved onto it.
In front of the tablet sat a small copper incense burner, holding three burnt-out incense sticks.
The burner was piled high with ash, suggesting someone offered incense here daily.
The other two beds were empty, their dusty blankets looking usable enough to sleep on.
“A tablet room.”
Lin Jianguo shook his head, his tone carrying a hint of schadenfreude. “An unmarked tablet. No telling what kind of spirit is enshrined here, but it's probably extremely fierce. Sleeping here is basically sleeping right next to someone's altar.”
Zheng Wenxuan frowned and said nothing, his face looking quite uneasy.
After inspecting all four rooms, the group retreated to the corridor to discuss.
“Uncle Biao said we can't damage the room fixtures, which means we shouldn't mess with the layout.”
Lin Jianguo spoke first, acting like an experienced veteran.
“An Instance wouldn't give us a guaranteed-death room right off the bat. As long as you follow the rules and don't touch what you shouldn't, you should be fine.”
“Little Wang and I will stay in 1703. One of us has poor stamina, and the other is only half-alive.”
He made the arrangements on his own. “As for the remaining three rooms, you young folks are in good shape and can handle it, and Captain Chen has a Class, so you'll definitely be safer than us.”
Wang Lei quickly chimed in, “Yes, yes, exactly.”
The two of them worked in tandem, making it perfectly clear they intended to claim 1703.
Zheng Wenxuan, being honest and mild-tempered, didn't argue.
As for Jiang Chen, he didn't care either way.
Chen Xi didn't dispute with him. Her gaze swept across the four doors as she rapidly calculated in her mind.
1701 had one water ghost of unknown danger.
Room 1702 had the family portrait of three. It looked bizarre and had the highest number of spirits, but at least they hadn't shown much aggression yet.
Room 1703 was empty with no spiritual entities, seemingly the safest.
Room 1704 had the unmarked memorial tablet, presenting the highest level of uncertainty.
Yet, Chen Xi couldn't shake the faint feeling that something was off.
Rate on N.U.
