[What the hell are they doing?]
[Pretending to be some phony mystic just to sneak into the palace? This is way too risky. Aren’t they afraid of getting caught?]
[Knew it. As soon as things started going smoothly, they got cocky. Why can’t they just lie low and play it safe until the end?]
[Ugh, it’s over. This instance is probably going to be a wipe, or at least half the team’s going to die. I had such high hopes too…]
[That’s a bit premature, don’t you think? I actually think this was a smart move. They hit a dead end with the main storyline—if they don’t act now, the instance ends in nine days, and without finishing the mission, it’s game over.]
[Agreed.]
[Wow, they actually made it inside!]
[This girl’s like a walking earthquake generator. Wherever she points, things just collapse!]
[HAHAHAHAHA earthquake generator I can’t breathe]
[What is this “Doctor” guy’s ability anyway? Mind control? He’s kinda terrifying.]
[Terrifying? Nah, I’d love to have someone like him in my party. He’s not even using it on his teammates—dude’s carrying the team.]
[God, the Emperor is so scummy. And the General… damn, she really let love cloud her judgment. I wanted to root for her, but this? She died for that guy?!]
[Exactly! She was the one who helped him unify the empire…]
[Damn right. Down with the dog Emperor!]
[LOL the Preceptor’s expression—I can’t, I’m dying ]
[Watching this instance live, the only thing I’ve learned is that this guy here laughs at literally everything…]
[laughcry.jpg]
Back on the General’s Platform, Fu Changxun remained completely unaware of the chaos unfolding in the livestream chat.
He stood there, quietly scanning the surroundings. It was the dead of night—midnight exactly—and the place was deserted. Nothing but wind and the chirping of insects filled the silence.
The Emperor and the National Preceptor, now realizing where they’d been brought, seemed to understand what was coming.
This was revenge. For the General who had died.
Since no one else was around, there was no need to keep their prisoner gagged. Dong Zi casually yanked the cloth out of the Emperor’s mouth.
The Emperor hadn’t expected Yun Qing to still have such loyal followers. For a moment, he was stunned. Then, realizing the situation was turning against him, he quickly blustered, “I have always devoted myself heart and soul to the nation! I consider myself a worthy ruler. What dissatisfaction do you harbor that you would dare to abduct your sovereign in broad daylight? This is a crime punishable by extermination of your entire clan!”
His bravado, thinly veiling his fear, came off as almost comical. Fu Changxun didn’t argue—he simply asked, “So you still believe everything you did was right? That you never once made a mistake?”
“You’re all here for Yun Qing, aren’t you? Yes, she died. But she died for a noble cause!”
The Emperor stared at them coldly. “She sacrificed herself for the Heng Dynasty. Her living sacrifice will ensure a thousand years of prosperity. How is that wrong?”
“Living sacrifice?”
Fu Changxun didn’t even have time to react before Yun He, who had just rushed in, caught those words.
Her eyes widened in horror, and in a flash, she charged forward and kicked the Emperor over. “What did you say? You—You made Ah Qing a living sacrifice!?”
A living sacrifice—just as it sounded. A person offered up as tribute while still alive. In the Heng Dynasty, most sacrificial rites involved burial. A living sacrifice meant someone was buried alive.
Naturally, Yun Qing had been buried beneath the General’s Platform.
The truth was… the General’s Platform was a tomb.
“What did she ever owe you?! She gave everything to help you conquer the world, and you buried her alive like a dog! And even in death, you gave her no peace! You buried her here—under this platform—where thousands of people trample over her bones every day! The very people she died to protect!”
Driven mad with grief and rage, Yun He could no longer care less about royal status or divine mandate. She drew her sword, ready to kill.
“Wait!”
Dong Zi stepped in to stop her. “We still haven’t finished the instance. That bastard Emperor’s still useful. Just hold on. Once everything’s done, you can do whatever you want to him.”
Yun He eventually lowered her sword.
She wasn’t afraid to die—but she wouldn’t let others be dragged down with her.
These brave players had promised to avenge her sister, and now—today—they’d truly acted on it…
They couldn’t die here.
The players didn’t fully grasp the weight of her pain, but they did understand the meaning of “living sacrifice.” Their outrage at the Emperor’s cruelty flared instantly.
Zhao-jie spat at him. “Trash. Not just a scumbag—you murdered your most loyal general.”
Fu Changxun looked at the Emperor, revulsion blooming in his chest.
“So you and the National Preceptor buried General Yun alive beneath this very platform?” he asked. “After everything she did for you, you just… buried her. And you’ve felt no guilt? Not even the slightest fear her ghost might come back for you? Have you truly never regretted it?”
Even now, the Emperor showed no remorse. “I am the Son of Heaven! Why would I fear some wandering ghost?!” His face was twisted with stubborn pride. “I did nothing wrong!”
Fu Changxun sighed, disgusted. There was no point speaking to him anymore. But the mission had stalled again. They had no clear objective now.
Were they supposed to execute the Emperor and Preceptor? Or dig up the General’s Platform to retrieve her blade?
“Let’s start digging,” Xu Zhengyi said with a sigh, glancing around for anything that could help them pry up the marble floor.
“Wait,” Fu Changxun interjected. “Xiao Xiao—can your item work on the General’s Platform? Try to keep the noise down. Can you do that?”
Xiao Xiao hesitated. “I… think so? I’ll give it a try.”
Her prop could be used three times per instance. She’d already used it twice.
This last time, at least, she had experience.
The little girl assembled her building blocks, carefully removing one piece first. When the platform held stable, she pulled out another.
The stone ground trembled faintly.
Then—with a grinding sound—a crack opened across the General’s Platform. It stretched ten meters long and about three meters wide.
A translucent figure floated into view, hovering silently in midair, staring at them in stunned confusion.
Yun He froze.
“…Ah Qing…”
***
In their last instance, the cat ghosts had appeared early—pure horror from the start. But in this one, there had been no signs of the supernatural. Not until they’d unraveled the entire mystery did Yun Qing finally appear.
She was the only ghost NPC in the game—and she’d been missing the entire time.
The real obstacles in this instance hadn’t been ghosts. They were humans.
And just when the players had written this off as a purely puzzle-solving instance, Yun Qing had returned—drifting into view like a whisper, her gaze filled with quiet sorrow.
The moment she appeared, the Emperor recoiled in terror. But he was still bound like a zongzi—he could only twist and writhe feebly, unable to flee.
Yun He rushed forward. “Ah Qing! You—how are you now?!”
Yun Qing seemed to be coming to her senses. Her translucent form was stabilizing, gaining definition.
She looked over and called out, “Jie-jie!”
The two sisters, after so long apart, were finally reunited—but Yun He’s hand passed straight through her.
Staring at her sister in disbelief, Yun Qing gave a faint, bitter smile. “Don’t be surprised, Jie-jie. I… I’m already dead. Just a wandering ghost now.”
Yun He stood frozen. Then, fat tears began to stream silently down her cheeks.
It was true. Her sister was gone. She no longer had a little sister.
“I missed you so much, Jie-jie,” Yun Qing whispered gently, her voice like wind. “Were you doing okay… while I was gone?”
Yun He sniffled and choked out, “No… not at all. Ah Qing, I’m going to kill Heng Beishuo. This time, no one will stop me!”
Yun Qing didn’t respond. She hesitated… then slowly drifted toward the Emperor.
Heng Beishuo was a mess. Still tied up tightly, he’d struggled so hard that his imperial robes were in tatters. His hairpiece had fallen off. His long hair hung loose and wild. He looked even more wretched than he had in his pre-coronation days.
“Your Majesty,” Yun Qing said, her voice icy, “I just don’t understand. Why didn’t you trust me? I never once betrayed you. Did I ever even think about it?”
That single “Your Majesty” rang in his ears like a curse. Heng Beishuo’s lips parted—then closed again.
He said nothing.
But as Yun Qing hovered before the Emperor, questioning him face to face, Fu Changxun—ignored in the background—suddenly felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Goosebumps prickled across his skin. He couldn’t help but take a step back.
[SAN Value: 76]
Even so, his expression held. It didn’t collapse.
Only Dong Zi noticed that Fu Changxun’s little finger was trembling. Without a word, he took two long steps forward and positioned himself squarely in front of Fu Changxun, using his tall frame to block his line of sight.
“Thanks,” Fu Changxun murmured.
He was still afraid of ghosts—especially this kind.
Human-shaped ghosts.
When the Black Cat had still been a cat ghost formed of black mist, he’d definitely been scared, but not this badly. And now that it was just an ordinary black cat, he wasn’t afraid at all anymore. But suddenly being faced with a human ghost like Yun Qing—even knowing he’d helped her, even knowing she wouldn’t be a hostile NPC—his body reacted before his mind could stop it.
He was afraid. Pure reflex. There was no helping it.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry.” Dong Zi turned to face him, lowered his head slightly, and spoke in a steady, reassuring voice. “If you’re scared, don’t look at her. Look at me.”
Fu Changxun: “Mm… yeah… huh?”
Why did that sound… weird?
He didn’t have time to think it through before he was completely stunned by what could only be described as Heng Beishuo’s peak scumbag rhetoric.
“It’s not that I didn’t trust you,” the Emperor stammered. “I—I was simply too concerned about the future of the Heng dynasty, and you were… an unstable variable…”
Before he could finish, Yun He—seething with fury—kicked him square in the chest.
“Variable your grandmother’s ass!” she roared. “You dared to toy with my sister’s feelings, refuse to take responsibility, and then you killed her!”
She came from a martial family. Those two kicks weren’t just symbolic—Heng Beishuo’s internal organs were injured on the spot, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
Seeing this, the National Preceptor immediately sensed danger. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention to him, he struggled his way toward the edge of the platform, intending to slip through the crack and escape.
Unfortunately for him, Yun He seemed to have eyes on the back of her head. She strode over, grabbed him, and dragged him back beside the Emperor.
She dusted off her hands and sneered. “A ‘variable,’ huh? A ‘loyal minister’ and a ‘wise ruler,’ huh? Since you value him so much, let’s see whether the esteemed National Preceptor is willing to die generously for our glorious Emperor!”
Her words had barely fallen when a shrill, panicked scream suddenly rang out behind them.
“Ah—!”
“Dad!!”
Fu Changxun spun around and saw the gloomy-looking player pull out a knife and viciously stab toward the little girl.
Xu Zhengyi had been keeping an eye on his daughter the entire time. In that instant, he didn’t even have time to pull her away, nor did it occur to him to use a prop. His mind went completely blank as he threw himself forward.
“Xiao Xiao—watch out!”
