Putting down the yellowed photo in his hand, Ning Qiushui could feel his heart pounding wildly.
Who exactly was watching him this whole time?
Someone… who could even see into the Mist World, a place supposedly beyond outside observation.
Sitting on the couch, Ning Qiushui took a long time to finally collect himself.
After a moment of hesitation, he sent the information to his friend, “Mole.”
Mole replied quickly:
“Great, we haven’t even figured out the last letter yet and now there’s another one… Alright, don’t stress. Things are slow for me right now—I’ll find a way to help. And if it comes down to it, I’ll contact her…”
At the mention of her, Ning Qiushui visibly paused, then replied after a moment:
“Thanks.”
After ending the call, it was as if all the energy had drained from his body. He collapsed weakly onto the couch.
A few days later, one morning, while brushing his teeth, a sudden feeling welled up inside him.
He quickly rinsed his mouth, went to the window, and looked downstairs.
Sure enough—
A thick fog had risen across the neighborhood.
A worn-out bus was parked right outside the building. Within a 10-meter radius around it, there was no fog at all, like an invisible barrier held it back.
Ning Qiushui opened his front door.
The entire building was silent.
It was as if he was the only person left here.
He sighed, went back inside, picked up the blood jade he had brought back from the first Blood Gate, and headed downstairs.
As soon as he boarded the bus, a familiar voice called out in surprise:
“Bro!”
Ning Qiushui looked up and froze for two seconds—he hadn’t expected it to be Liu Chengfeng.
Only now, Liu Chengfeng had cleaned himself up—he had shaved off his scruffy beard.
Without the beard, he looked much cleaner and more refreshed, though still carried his rough, rugged vibe.
“Just us?”
Ning Qiushui took the seat next to him.
“Seems like it.”
Liu Chengfeng sighed.
Though he still acted carefree as always, Ning Qiushui noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping well these past few days.
“Still having nightmares?” Ning Qiushui asked.
Liu Chengfeng nodded, twisting open a bottle of mineral water as he cursed:
“Damn it, that ghost woman… shows up in my dreams every night—scares the hell outta me.”
Ning Qiushui joked:
“Sounds like she’s really in love with you. You know what they say—‘a thousand miles of fate bound by a single thread.’ You better cherish the opportunity…”
Pfft!
Liu Chengfeng couldn’t hold in his drink and nearly spat out the water.
“Bro, you’re outta line!”
“Since you know so much about cherishing love, why don’t you go show her some affection?”
Ning Qiushui shrugged and said regretfully:
“I’d love to—but she’s not interested in me. She’s never even shown up in my dreams.”
Upon hearing that, Liu Chengfeng’s face turned a few shades paler, and he mumbled some curses about how being handsome always brings trouble.
Then suddenly, Ning Qiushui seemed to recall something and asked:
“By the way, you still haven’t told me—why did the first Blood Gate cling to me?”
Bringing up this question again after a few days, Liu Chengfeng’s eyes darted around before he leaned in with a mysterious look:
“Bro, let me ask you something… do you believe in fate?”
The unexpected question caught Ning Qiushui off guard.
He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.
“No.”
Liu Chengfeng chuckled.
“Well, I do.”
As he spoke, he flipped his palm over to reveal three ancient Chinese copper coins with square holes, each strung with a fine thread—one red, one yellow, one blue.
“Back in that Blood Gate, I did three divinations.”
“In the end, I found that two of them pointed to death. Only the one related to you was different.”
“You were the only one in the group who had a life hexagram.”
Ning Qiushui’s eyes flickered with interest, and he smiled:
“Liu Chengfeng, you really do know how to tell fortunes.”
Liu Chengfeng sighed:
“No choice—these days, it’s tough making a living. Gotta have a few skills to survive in this world!”
“So why didn’t you tell me before?”
At Ning Qiushui’s question, Liu Chengfeng looked a bit uneasy and replied seriously:
“Bro, our line of work has its own rules—”
“First, never tell fortunes for yourself. Reading for others is fine, but reading for yourself is a death sentence.”
“Second, never read the fortune of another practitioner if you’re aware of it.”
“Third, never read for the dead.”
“And aside from those three ‘no readings,’ there are also two ‘no tells’—”
“First, never tell someone everything in their fortune. The more you reveal, the more of your own life you lose.”
“Second, don’t speak of things that hold too much weight. Saving one life or helping someone avoid a disaster is usually fine. But if that person’s life or death ties into something much bigger… then the fortune-teller must not interfere. Otherwise, it may bring down divine punishment.”
Ning Qiushui nodded in understanding.
“So once everything was over, it was safe for you to talk about it. Right?”
Liu Chengfeng nodded.
“Exactly.”
“It doesn’t matter how much you talk about something that’s already happened.”
The bus drove into the mist. No other passengers boarded, and the two of them rode all the way to the familiar haunted house. As soon as they walked in, they saw four people sitting in the main hall.
They seemed to be discussing something important, but the moment the two entered, their conversation stopped instantly.
“Looks like we didn’t show up at the best time.”
Ning Qiushui said half-jokingly.
Liang Yan replied calmly:
“The haunted house is our home, and it’s yours too. You can come home whenever you want—there’s no such thing as a bad time.”
“By the way, your second door is about to open. Are you ready?”
Ning Qiushui let out a sigh.
“If we’re not ready, does that mean we don’t have to go in?”
An odd silence settled over the hall.
Bai Xiaoxiao stood up.
“Come on. Let’s head to the third floor.”
She had changed into a fitted athletic outfit, looking more youthful and energetic—no longer carrying the same sultry air she had when she wore her nightgown.
The two followed her to the third floor of the haunted house.
In the center stood the same wooden door that gave off a bone-chilling aura.
On its surface, new lines of blood-red writing had appeared.
【Task: Survive the temple ritual on the seventh day in the village】
【Clue——】
【The kind had their blood drained, turning into nourishing rain; the compassionate cut off their heads, bestowing peace; the innocent closed their eyes, praying for the rain and peace to come. And they waited, and waited… waited, and waited…】
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