Do not turn around.
Absolutely do not turn around.
Weng Yang gritted her teeth and kept walking forward, even deliberately quickening her pace.
But the footsteps behind her also quickened.
“Clack, clack, clack!”
“Splat, splat...”
The footsteps drew closer, louder, and more hurried.
The heavy, beast-like panting was right next to her ear, and the fishy, foul breath was practically spraying onto the back of her neck.
It was sticky and greasy, like the layer of slime on a dead fish.
Weng Yang's heart hammered so fast it felt like it would burst, and her chest felt too tight to breathe.
She stared dead ahead, not even daring to blink. She could feel that the thing was already right behind her.
Just when Weng Yang thought the thing was going to pounce on her—the footsteps suddenly veered off to the side.
A pitch-black shadow slowly overtook her from her side.
Weng Yang's pupils contracted sharply.
She saw it clearly.
It was a corpse.
A corpse so bloated from water-logging that it had already entered the bloat stage.
It was swollen like an overinflated leather ball, its skin stretched shiny and taut, displaying a bizarre grayish-green hue.
The facial features of the corpse were squeezed together, its eyelids turned inside out, and its lips swollen terribly high.
A purplish-black tongue lolled out, dripping turbid slime, making it look like a giant toad.
Its body was wrapped in dark green water plants, which hung off it in root-like strands, clung with clumps of black silt.
With every step, a piece of rotting flesh would fall off the corpse's body, landing on the muddy ground with a squelch and leaving a puddle of foul-smelling, purulent water.
It was barefoot, its feet swollen like steamed buns, with pitch-black toenails peeling and curling backward.
It didn't spare Weng Yang even a single glance.
Or rather, it seemed as if it couldn't see Weng Yang at all.
The corpse simply took heavy steps, walking toward the Lake-Center Pavilion step by step.
Its destination was clear.
Weng Yang's brain buzzed as if struck by a heavy hammer.
No, that's not right.
Everything is wrong.
Everyone had taken it for granted that the person walking around the artificial lake with the candle would be in danger, being the target of the water ghost's attack.
Besides requiring them not to turn around, the mission had another point: they must not let the candle go out.
The Lake-Center Pavilion had a candle too!
They had all overlooked this!
Weng Yang suddenly realized:
The candle is an amulet! The person holding the candle is the one who is safe!
The water ghost's true target is those in the Lake-Center Pavilion who aren't protected by a candle!
Once that candle in the Lake-Center Pavilion burns out, the five defenseless people inside will become the water ghost's prey!
The danger of this mission isn't in the thick fog at all—it's in the Lake-Center Pavilion!
She could even feel the water surrounding the Lake-Center Pavilion faintly boiling.
Looking closely, beneath the churning surface of the water were pale, bloated faces.
Every corpse had its mouth wide open, crowding together like goldfish begging for fish food.
“Oh no!”
Weng Yang let out a low cry. No longer caring about her posture, she shielded the candle tightly in her arms and bolted back.
“Run! Get out of the pavilion! The water ghost is heading there!”
“Moli! Moli! Light a candle!”
“Hurry! Get away from there!!”
Weng Yang shouted with all her might, her voice echoing in the fog, but strangely, even though she screamed herself hoarse, there was absolutely no response from the pavilion.
The thick fog was like heavy acoustic cotton, completely swallowing her voice.
The people in the pavilion still stood there, as if they couldn't hear her shouting or see the strange movements on the water's surface around the Lake-Center Pavilion.
The candlelight inside the pavilion flickered, looking as if it could go out at any moment.
Countless pale faces gathered beneath the water surrounding the pavilion.
Zhao Weilai and the others were completely oblivious.
Weng Yang's heart sank to rock bottom.
This won't do.
Gritting her teeth, she ran until her lungs felt like they would burst. The cold wind rushed down her throat, stinging like a knife.
The water ghost was not far ahead of her, taking step after step with a clear destination.
One human and one ghost, heading in the same direction, began a silent race.
Weng Yang ran so hard that mud got into her shoes. She slipped several times, nearly falling into the lake.
Yet, she shielded the candle in her hand perfectly the entire time. The flame flickered wildly, but it never went out.
Closer.
Even closer.
Weng Yang could already see the outline of the pavilion. She could see the figures of several people inside, still eagerly waiting.
The water ghost had already stepped onto the Nine-Bend Bridge.
The wooden planks creaked loudly under its weight, letting out a groan of being overburdened.
With every step it took, the bridge swayed.
“Get away from the pavilion!”
Weng Yang roared, rushing forward with all her remaining strength.
The water ghost had almost reached the entrance of the pavilion.
It raised its swollen hand, and just as it was about to step into the Lake-Center Pavilion—
“Move!”
Weng Yang suddenly lunged into the pavilion, shoving aside Ding Feifan, who was blocking her path.
Stumbling, she threw herself toward the stone table, bringing the stub of her candle close to the center one—
With a soft whoosh, the ever-burning candle that was on the verge of going out flared up brightly.
A green halo of light instantly expanded, enveloping the entire pavilion.
The water ghost's hand brushed against the edge of the halo. It let out a guttural, low growl, then turned and retreated into the thick fog.
The bobbing heads on the water's surface slowly sank back down, their pupil-less eyes staring fixedly upward.
...
Supporting herself against the stone table, Weng Yang gasped heavily, her lungs burning with pain.
The sweat on her forehead mingled with the mist and dripped down; her back was completely drenched.
The others around her were utterly bewildered.
“Be careful... watch out for the candle...” Weng Yang panted. Before she could finish her sentence, the familiar ink-wash characters materialized once more:
【Player Weng Yang has completed the check-in for the Ghost Story: The Water Ghost in the Lake.】
【Player Weng Yang has left the Instance 《Campus Ghost Stories》.】
The moment the characters flashed, Weng Yang's figure began to turn translucent.
Then, she vanished.
...
The remaining six people in the pavilion were completely dumbfounded.
Just a moment ago, they had only seen Weng Yang suddenly burst out of the thick fog into the pavilion, shove Ding Feifan aside, and look utterly terrified, as if she were being chased by some horrifying entity.
Before they could even ask her what had happened, she was teleported away.
It was as if she had never been there in the first place.
On the stone table, the white candle Weng Yang had brought back still glowed with a green light.
They looked at each other, seeing shock and lingering fear in one another's eyes.
“She... she cleared it?” Zhao Weilai was the first to react, her voice trembling. “Just like that... she's gone?”
“She was probably teleported out of the Instance.” Ding Feifan swallowed hard, looking at the newly lit ever-burning candle on the stone table. Recalling Weng Yang's warning to “watch out for the candle,” his heart skipped a beat.
Watch out for the candle?
What did Weng Yang mean?
Could there be something wrong with the candle?
He lifted the candle and looked outside the pavilion.
The lake remained calm, but on the concrete floor at the entrance of the pavilion, there were a few wet, muddy footprints.
The footprints were huge, bloated, and misshapen—there was no way they belonged to Weng Yang.
The footprints extended from the other end of the bridge and stopped right at the entrance of the pavilion.
Ding Feifan's heart instantly went cold.
Just now... something had chased Weng Yang all the way here?
The few of them had been crowding in the center of the pavilion, waiting for Weng Yang to return, completely unaware that a ghost was only a step away.
“Wh... whose footprints are these?” Liu Guilan also saw them, her face instantly turning pale. “Why are they so big? And so wet...”
No one answered, but the answer was glaringly obvious.
It was the water ghost.
The water ghost had just been here.
It had stood just a single step outside the pavilion, staring at them with greed and desire.
...
“So, so the person holding the candle will be chased by the water ghost?”
Zhao Weilai trembled all over, tears almost welling up from fear. “If we can't outrun the water ghost, will... will we die here?”
“Alright, everyone, don't panic.” Ding Feifan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Weng Yang has already proven that we can leave this place as long as we complete the mission. Since the candle is the key...”
He pointed at the stone table. “There are still two candles left. Let's hurry. Who's next?”
Silence fell over the pavilion once more.
Weng Yang's experience just now was clear. As long as one held the candle, they would have to face the water ghost—
But as long as they completed the mission, they would be teleported away immediately, returning to reality.
To put it bluntly, no one knew what other dangers lay ahead, but whoever left first would be safe first.
Those who remained would have to continue facing the threat of the water ghost.
Deng Ziwen gritted his teeth and was the first to reach for the second candle. “Weilai, you go second.”
Zhao Weilai loved sports and ran five kilometers every single day without fail; this short distance around the lake was nothing to her.
“Ziwen!” Zhao Weilai grabbed his hand and shook her head. “We should let Auntie Liu go first.”
She looked at Liu Guilan, her tone very sincere. “Auntie, you're older, and we won't feel at ease if you stay behind. Although this mission carries some risk, as long as you follow the rules, you should be fine. You should go second. Worst case scenario, Ziwen and I will just look for a new check-in location.”
Liu Guilan was stunned. She hadn't expected Zhao Weilai to yield her spot.
She had just been calculating that since it was only running with a candle, she should be fine if she ran a bit faster.
She just hadn't known how to speak up and fight for the second slot.
Now that Zhao Weilai had voluntarily offered it, she felt a bit embarrassed instead.
“Th... this, how can I accept this?” Liu Guilan rubbed her hands together, her face turning slightly red. “You young people should go first, I'm not in a hurry.”
“Auntie, please don't decline.” Zhao Weilai shoved the candle into her hands. “If it weren't for you last night, Ziwen and I would have been in trouble long ago.”
“I just happened to be there...”
Liu Guilan held the cold candle, hesitating, wanting to say something.
In the end, she looked at Zhao Weilai, then at Deng Ziwen. Her lips trembled, but she only managed to squeeze out one sentence:
“Good kids... thank you... Auntie will remember your kindness.”
She knew she was taking advantage of them, but she also truly wanted to get out alive.
Her parents and son were still waiting for her to come home.
Liu Guilan didn't even dare to think about what would happen if she died here for no clear reason, without even leaving a whole corpse for her parents and son. How devastated her family would be.
...
“Since it's decided, Auntie will go second. Auntie Liu, you must remember,” Ding Feifan instructed solemnly, “no matter what you hear or feel along the way, do not turn around. You must protect the candle in your hand and absolutely cannot let it go out, understand?”
“Alright, I've got it. If I really run into the water ghost, I'll hurry back to warn you guys.”
Liu Guilan nodded, tightly gripping the lit candle. She took a deep breath and stepped into the thick fog.
Her figure was soon swallowed by the mist as well, leaving only a tiny speck of green candlelight slowly moving through the fog.
Now, five people remained in the pavilion: Deng Ziwen, Zhao Weilai, Ding Feifan, Tan Moli, and Fu Qinqin, who had barely spoken.
There was only one last candle left.
Everyone was very quiet.
Deng Ziwen wanted Zhao Weilai to go—but he had already let Liu Guilan go first just now. If he hurriedly pushed for Zhao Weilai to go next, it would really be a bit inappropriate.
Ding Feifan also wanted to leave, but he was a teacher, and he felt too embarrassed to fight with his students.
Tan Moli lowered her head, her heart filled with both desire and anxiety.
She was in poor health. While Weng Yang was here, she could at least feel a bit at ease, but now that Weng Yang had been teleported away, she was even more afraid to go alone.
Silence spread through the pavilion, as suffocating as the fishy stench of the lake water.
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