In late May, Jiangcheng's temperature had already climbed to thirty-three degrees Celsius.
During the day, the streets were scorching hot, and under the plane trees by the roadside, groups of old-timers still randomly appeared to play cards and mahjong.
“Why is it glutinous rice again? What’s wrong with the nearby businesses? They’ve all switched to steaming glutinous rice.”
Song Mo put down her takeout box, grumbling softly.
“My Lady, is today’s meal not to your liking?”
A'zhu, the fierce ghost who constantly observed her movements, immediately floated over, opening his mouth, which emitted black mist.
“This sinful servant will go kill that cook and the delivery boy, flay their skins, and return to atone.”
As he spoke, blood tears streaked A'zhu’s face, and he forced a sinister smile. It was clear he wasn't joking.
“Stop, stop, stop!”
Song Mo interrupted A'zhu, a little horrified. “What’s wrong with you—with this ghost? You’re always talking about flaying people’s skins.”
The delivery person who brought her food had done absolutely nothing wrong, okay?
Six floors, no elevator, no extra delivery fee, and they even looked after a poor ghost like her, preventing her from starving. They were practically saints.
Fortunately, after a few days of adjustment, A'zhu had become quite adept at discerning Song Mo’s tone.
So, the fierce ghost drifted silently to a corner, like a scolded puppy.
Of course, he didn’t forget to pack up Song Mo’s takeout and throw it in the trash.
Song Mo rubbed her temples, a slight headache setting in.
Fierce ghosts, though intelligent and independent entities, seemed to have an overly strong killing intent, perhaps from spending too long in hell.
When facing her, the two ghosts could restrain themselves somewhat.
But once the two ghosts were let loose, it was truly a rolling black mist, a sky-high resentment, with only the thought of “kill, kill, kill” filling their minds.
Therefore, Song Mo had tried to avoid letting the two ghosts act together these past few days.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Song Mo looked up and saw blood-like black mist seeping through the window, finally coalescing on the ground into a human form.
“My Lady!”
A'yan, her face filled with devotion, didn’t even glance at her brother crouching in the corner. She excitedly reported to Song Mo:
“This servant followed your instructions and traveled along the river, collecting many wandering souls along the way, and even capturing a few minor ghosts…”
The black mist beneath her skirt slowly condensed, turning into tangible tentacles. A dozen gray, ghostly faces struggled and screamed at the ends of the tentacles.
A'zhu and A'yan both looked somewhat eager.
...
【Discovered Low-Grade Material Shadow * 1】
【Discovered Low-Grade Material Wandering Soul * 1】
【Discovered Low-Grade Material Wandering Soul * 1】
“Well done.”
Song Mo nodded in approval, gently tapping the gray mist with her finger. Ink-wash characters rippled outwards in circles in mid-air.
A Chinese ink-wash style map of Jiangcheng slowly unfolded before her eyes.
This was, of course, not a system function, but a Map Ghost Song Mo had created by spending ten Screenwriter Points.
【Supernatural Creature 002: Map Ghost (Loyalty: 100%)】
【Creature Traits: Timid, adept at concealment, remembers every path it has traveled and imprints it upon itself—consuming Screenwriter Points allows it to view the status of nearby Instances (can grow by inputting Low-Grade Material)】
The Map Ghost trembled as it unfolded itself, a black and white three-dimensional map appearing before Song Mo.
The streets, alleys, and bridges where the two fierce ghosts had roamed were projected onto the map, varying in height.
The map was also densely marked with the density of materials in various areas of Jiangcheng.
These past few days, Song Mo had intended to test the two ghosts’ abilities, so she had them take the Map Ghost and wander outwards, inch by inch, with the rented apartment as the center.
All landmarks such as abandoned factories, desolate graves, narrow alley ruins, and the like were specially marked.
...
“We can only float this far. Any further out, and we can’t sense your presence, My Lady.”
A'yan anxiously fidgeted with her fingers, took her head off, and held it in her arms, not daring to look at Song Mo.
“Also, this servant discovered a new material gathering point in the west of the city… Hmm… that’s all.”
“You’ve done an excellent job, much faster than I could collect them alone.”
Song Mo didn't stint on her praise, her gaze fixed on the flickering numbers.
Including the materials the Twin Ghosts had brought back during this time, she now had two hundred and thirty-one Low-Grade Spirit Materials and thirty-seven Mid-Grade Materials in her possession.
These were enough to support her in opening a new Instance.
Song Mo swiped her fingertip across the Map Ghost, bringing up the material distribution map.
Densely packed light spots on the map represented material gathering points. The denser the light spots, the higher the material concentration.
And thus, the more likely an Instance was to be generated.
“You don’t need to worry about Instances. Just continue collecting scattered materials.”
Song Mo casually took out the incense and paper money she had previously obtained from the system and placed them into the two ghosts’ hands.
“Eat up. We’re going out tonight.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
The two fierce ghosts glanced at the disappearing Low-Grade Materials, then cradled the candles and began to eat them ravenously.
...
...
“I must open a new Instance soon.”
Song Mo stroked her chin, murmuring to herself.
Only by opening Instances and having players clear them could she continuously obtain Screenwriter Points, lifespan, and materials.
Players clear Instance → acquire Screenwriter Points → generate new Instance, forming a virtuous cycle.
This was the survival method she had set for herself.
Moreover, she had a few hypotheses she wanted to verify through Instances and players.
The Map Ghost trembled uneasily, its illusory body shaking. Among the countless architectural areas, four Instance locations marked by Song Mo stood out:
【Dagucun Subway Station: During its construction, hundreds of unidentified skeletons were unearthed. After the subway was built, a cat spirit caused mischief, leading to severe malevolence.
(Creating Instance requires 300 Screenwriter Points, Instance Difficulty: High.)】
【Sapphire Building: A major fire occurred ten years ago, resulting in thirty-one deaths and twenty-eight injuries. The top floor remains vacant, and the deceased still linger there.
(Creating Instance requires 300 Screenwriter Points, Instance Difficulty: Medium.)】
【Jiangbei Third Medical University Affiliated People's Hospital: This is a gate of life, yet also a place of death. Daily experiences of birth, aging, sickness, and death cause resentment and death energy to converge here.
(Creating Instance requires 500 Screenwriter Points, Instance Difficulty: High.)】
【Jiangcheng University: Before the founding of the nation, it was a mass grave. Numerous supernatural legends have spawned within the campus, where the desires of countless beings gather, and obsessions fester.
(Creating Instance requires 150 Screenwriter Points, Instance Creation Difficulty: Low.)】
...
Song Mo’s finger slid back and forth between the four locations, and she fell into deep thought.
Although Dagucun Subway Station and the Sapphire Building weren’t overly difficult, they required too many Screenwriter Points, which she couldn’t afford right now.
Jiangbei Third Hospital was a good location, with many Low-Grade Materials and an abundance of supernatural stories, making creation simple.
But the core of an Instance lay with the players.
A Mid-Grade Instance would be too difficult. Current players had no Instance experience whatsoever; entering would be suicide.
At that point, she wouldn’t just fail to earn Screenwriter Points; she would also attract high-level official scrutiny.
If no one was willing to enter the Instance, half of her created Instance would be wasted.
While Song Mo’s script creation speed was fast, official efficiency was also high.
Even Song Mo, a living corpse, could keenly sense that Jiangcheng was undergoing a subtle transformation.
During this period, the Jiangcheng Daily and official public accounts pushed headline articles daily.
The title was: “Welcoming the Tourist Season, Jiangcheng Upgrades Public Security and Prevention for Tourist Safety.”
The article detailed the newly added patrol points and the number of police forces deployed.
It emphasized that “this city-wide security upgrade is to cope with the upcoming summer tourism peak and ensure the personal and property safety of citizens and tourists.”
The comment section was filled with messages like “Thank you for your hard work” and “Thumbs up for Jiangcheng.”
But the most liked anonymous comment was: “The tourist season is in July; it’s only mid-June now. And when did places like Taiping Cemetery become tourist attractions?”
Of course, this comment was quickly deleted.
The official debunking announcement hung on the homepage for a full week:
“Don’t Believe or Spread Rumors! Online Claims of ‘Jiangcheng Hauntings’ Are Pure Rumors.”
The announcement sternly criticized “certain individuals with ulterior motives for fabricating false information and creating social panic,” and it publicized several cases of people being administratively detained for spreading rumors.
However, at the end of the announcement, a seemingly unrelated reminder was added:
“Citizens are advised to minimize unnecessary outings at night. If you must go out, please go in groups and pay attention to your personal safety.”
Armed police patrol vehicles, which previously only appeared during holidays, were now common sights on main roads.
Armed police officers in black combat uniforms and bulletproof helmets patrolled along the river in groups of three, carrying real guns and ammunition.
Cinnabar and peach wood branches sold out at pharmacies, and online sales of peach wood swords and Bagua mirrors surged.
The incense offerings at several temples and Daoist temples in Jiangcheng were more than three times busier than usual.
Queues started forming at the entrance of Dayuan Temple from six in the morning, with people burning incense stretching halfway down the street.
Peace Talismans that used to cost ten yuan for five now sold for fifty yuan each and were snatched up instantly.
Many Daoists simply set up stalls at the entrance, offering palm readings, fortune-telling based on birth charts, and drawing protective talismans. Their business was incredibly good.
Life for Jiangcheng residents seemed unchanged, yet some felt that everything had changed.
Because this change wasn't sudden.
It was like boiling a frog in warm water.
By the time the frog realized the water temperature was changing, it was already too late to turn back.
...
...
Finally, Song Mo’s gaze settled on Jiangcheng University.
One hundred and fifty Screenwriter Points was exactly within her acceptable range.
Moreover, Jiangcheng University was located near a university town, with an enormous flow of people. There was no shortage of Instance participants, and she might even be able to screen for special players with Talent Classes.
Most importantly, the campus was filled with countless supernatural legends.
These were ready-made script materials she could directly utilize, greatly reducing her creation difficulty.
“Jiangcheng University it is.”
Song Mo finally made her decision.
Rate on N.U.
