Chapter 45: Run!

“…She really is a kind person. She said that for now, it’s just her and her sick daughter at home, along with a large hunting dog. After the snowstorm stops, she’ll send us on our way.”

Lan Qing read the words in the diary, “We can be saved, that’s great. Thank you so much. The hostess’s soup is truly delicious.”

The diary ended there. It was unknown whether the other 12 travelers had also kept diaries.

[Could the woman in the diary be the witch? She turned those thirteen travelers into soup… and the diary also mentioned the soup.]

[But, the tone of the witch’s soup recipe seems more like it was written by a little girl, so it might also be that woman’s daughter.]

[If this wasn’t a supernatural story, I’d think this mother and daughter were way too trusting. Just the two of them and a dog at home, and they still dared to take in an unidentified group of travelers?]

The comments were all over the place. This diary entry was full of suspicious points; it wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

The tour group from back then had thirteen people in total. One was already lying here, so what about the remaining twelve?

Most likely, they hadn’t fared any better, and had probably also become corpses. So Lan Qing suggested that they search inside and outside the villa to see if they could find any remaining bodies.

The interior walls of the villa were all inspected by the group, but there seemed to be no further anomalies.

The room where the female traveler was buried was very special. It was on the second floor and seemed to have originally been a little girl’s room, decorated in pink, with a princess bed—it most likely originally belonged to the hostess’s daughter.

There were also many medicine bottles from more than 30 years ago in the room’s drawers. Judging from the clothes in the closet, its owner was less than 150cm tall, probably not yet an adult.

Since nothing more could be found inside the villa, everyone went out to the courtyard. It could be vaguely seen that plants had originally been planted here, but now only a desolate expanse remained, covered in snow.

One of the Challengers had some knowledge of geology and carried a special shovel with him, which could dig out the soil layer to determine what was inside.

Both Azure Snow outside the story and the female lead inside the story noticed this detail. Azure Snow said, “Hey, that Challenger’s tool isn’t from the villa, is it?”

[No, I’m sure, I’ve been paying attention to the details.]

[Did he bring it himself? He’s a veteran. I think I also saw other veterans with their own tools. One person seemed to have a gun tucked into his waistband.]

[But the newcomers, like the female lead, are empty-handed except for the clothes on their backs. Is it only veterans who can choose to bring things? Then the female lead can bring weapons later, too!]

The worldview of “Infinite Heartbeat” seemed to unfold little by little before the audience’s eyes, the iceberg beneath the water gradually surfacing. This feeling of expanding from a single point, of carefully unraveling the threads, was incredibly addictive.

“How should we spend tonight?” When night fell, the General raised this question.

All day, everyone had avoided this topic. If nothing else, no one dared to stay in the room where the body had been discovered in the wall.

Lan Qing said bluntly, “Let’s choose people we trust to stay in a room together. How about you and I share a room?”

She guessed that some of the veterans knew each other and might have already experienced several worlds together. Sure enough, as soon as her suggestion came out, several veterans showed signs of being moved.

“Good,” the General said. “However, I must also share with that young lady. What is your opinion, sir?”

She was referring to the driver.

Outside of the scene, Azure Snow interjected, “The General trying to imitate modern people’s speech is so cute…”

The comments were a chorus of [+1]. On the screen, Lan Qing nodded. “Sure. Then the three of us will sleep in one room.”

The driver was overjoyed. She might die tonight. Originally, no one was willing to be with her, but now someone had taken the initiative, making her incredibly grateful.

Seeing that it was about to get dark, everyone discussed going back. Unlike before, after two days, there was a clear trend of people gathering in twos and threes, with various expressions on their faces.

[I’m already starting to get nervous. Hang in there, progress bar!]

[Damn it, this episode is almost over. How did it go by so fast? QAQ]

[Will someone else die tonight? I feel like the next episode will have a major development! If the protagonist duo and the driver stay together, will we be able to see what comes that kills people?]

Just then, the veteran digging in the ground suddenly said, “I’ve dug up something!”

Everyone gathered around. The veteran shoveled a few more times, and it was revealed that he had dug up a completely decomposed male skeleton, exposing its upper body in the soil. It was also wearing a traveler’s windbreaker.

The skeleton’s palm clutched a plastic sheet that hadn’t decayed over time. Lan Qing pulled it out. Azure Snow was extremely nervous, focusing intently on the crumpled paper.

At this moment, there were only a few seconds left on the progress bar. After the plastic sheet was unfolded, it could be seen that a sentence had been scratched onto it with a sharp object—

“They’re fucking scary! RUN!”

The words were seared onto their retinas like a brand, as if the corpse from thirty years ago was screaming ‘Run!’ at them too. It was the final shot of the episode.

Then, the screen went dark, but the comments surged instead of decreasing.

[Ahhhh! What a great place to cut it off! The sentence is ‘they’re too scary, run’? hiss, my back is chilled…]

[Is it confirmed that the hostess has a problem? Did this person escape from the witch’s clutches with his companions?? But he didn’t make it, and was caught again…]

[This kind of short sentence is even scarier than a long essay. But I really want to see what happens next, ahhhh!]

Azure Snow got goosebumps. This episode’s information was explosive. She lamented, “We have to wait six days to see the next episode. It’s too agonizing!”

–

Blue River Moon.

Shang Jingyan held the rabbit, and after a period of silent staring, looked at Pei Yi beside her. He seemed calm on the surface, but it took him a long, dazed moment to notice Shang Jingyan’s gaze, and he was startled: “Hmm?… I’m sorry! My rabbit.”

He hurriedly picked up the Angora rabbit, but the latter’s two front paws clung to the clothes on Shang Jingyan’s arm, refusing to go back.

The spirit body was a very magical thing, able to exist between the virtual and the real. Like now, it was tangible to Shang Jingyan.

Pei Yi tugged twice without success, so Shang Jingyan just brought the rabbit back. “It’s fine to let it stay with me.”

She teased, “Shopkeeper Pei, you can also hold onto me.”

Pei Yi: “…”

He curled his finger and pressed it against his lip, coughing lightly, and looked away. “That—I’m not that timid.”

Next, the NPCs saw two young people passing through the terrifying scenes. The one walking in front was so relaxed it was as if she were in her own home, and she was even petting a rabbit in her hands.

NPC: “?”

Suddenly, they felt a complete lack of accomplishment!

Pei Yi seemed to be infected by Shang Jingyan’s calmness and bravely walked through the entire ghost school. Only after coming out did he take a long sigh of relief, supporting himself on the vending machine, his face a little pale.

“…You said you wanted to try to treat my Externalization Syndrome. Is that true?” After a moment, he straightened up and confirmed.

Shang Jingyan had just casually mentioned this to Pei Yi while walking through the haunted house, and the latter seemed to just now be processing it.

“That’s right,” she said. “The reason I was able to cooperate with the Su family is because I cured Old Mr. Wei’s illness.”

Pei Yi’s eyes widened slightly. Clearly, he had also heard about the Su family’s affairs.

Throwing out the Su family made Shang Jingyan’s words much more convincing. Pei Yi followed her back to her home. In fact, Shang Jingyan felt that there might be no need to persuade him; Pei Yi would come as a test subject.

“You’re not afraid of me practicing medicine without a license, are you?” Shang Jingyan directed Pei Yi to lie down in the mental linking device—this was also sponsored by Su Tong. Although she didn’t need it, having the device was a good cover for her uniqueness—she said half-jokingly, “Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find that I’ve cut out your kidneys.”

Pei Yi said seriously, “That’s perfect. I’ll make you a dish of stir-fried kidneys.”

Shang Jingyan laughed loudly. “I wouldn’t dare eat that!”

Pei Yi lay in the chair and picked up the helmet.

“…Will I have a mental landscape, too?”

Before turning on the device, he suddenly asked, a little unconfidently.

He had been diagnosed with Externalization Syndrome since he could remember, had never experienced the feeling of a spirit body roaming the star network, had never played virtual holographic games, and of course, had never visualized his own mental world.

In this era, he was almost half-crippled.

Shang Jingyan sensed his apprehension, and her movements paused. She couldn’t predict this issue in advance either, but simply said, “We’ll know when we try.”

Pei Yi smiled and said, “It’s nothing. I was just asking. I used to care a lot about these things, but I don’t anymore. I remember when I was a child, my classmates would discuss how fun the newly released holographic games were. I hadn’t played them, but I didn’t want to be left out of the conversation, didn’t want to be seen as different. Every day I would search online, lurking in the game forum to see what others were discussing, and then I’d go to school the next day and talk about it…”

He shrugged. “This trick lasted until I was about ten years old, in puberty, when it was exposed. The reason was that children developing in puberty can all see their mental landscapes, but I couldn’t. There was no point in making things up anymore.”

Teenage boys and girls shared and confided in each other about what their mental spaces looked like, some dissatisfied, some complacent, some complaining, some showing off…

But no matter what, they had them. Pei Yi didn’t. He could only see darkness when he closed his eyes.

Actually, theoretically speaking, unless using professional instruments, others couldn’t verify whether a person’s mental landscape was as he described. If Pei Yi had made something up, it definitely wouldn’t have been as easy to expose as not having the experience of playing holographic games.

But he just felt it was meaningless, and didn’t want to make up fake stories anymore. He openly told everyone that he had Externalization Syndrome.

And he had an Angora Rabbit to accompany him, which no one else could do. How cool was that?

Shang Jingyan said, “If there is one, I will replicate it so that you can see it with your own eyes.”

Pei Yi was stunned, and a smile rippled in his eyes, as if he were relieved. “Okay.”

He closed his eyes. Shang Jingyan sat down opposite him, her mental power enveloping him—

–

Shang Jingyan regained consciousness in the void.

Like Wei Wenbing’s mental space, Pei Yi’s mental landscape was almost entirely filled with darkness as thick as water.

She was standing on a winding path paved with round cobblestones. The stones were of various sizes and colors, and there were white fences and shrubs along the road.

These were all Shang Jingyan’s inferences. In appearance, they were actually mostly swallowed up by the darkness, difficult to identify.

“It’s still a landscape from childhood…” Shang Jingyan stepped forward, whispering to herself.

Wei Wenbing’s illness had developed later, at least not when he married his late wife; their genetically combined offspring, Su Tong, was also very normal.

Pei Yi’s was earlier. His mental landscape had never changed since it was a seedling.

The streetlights, signposts, etc. along the cobblestone road were full of childlike innocence and fun, and the proportions were also those of a child’s eyes. Even the grass along the road was zigzag-shaped, like a low-lying fairytale world.

In the darkness in the distance, a fluffy white rabbit hopped to her feet. Shang Jingyan looked down and asked, “Are you here to pick me up?”

She bent down to pick up the rabbit. The rabbit seemed to stiffen when she scooped it up, its ears moving shyly. It struggled free and jumped to the ground.

It would hop a few steps forward and then look back at her, meaning to lead the way.

“Alright.” Shang Jingyan shrugged regretfully. “You don’t want me to hold you.”

Unlike Wei Wenbing’s, Pei Yi’s rabbit looked very healthy, only the mental landscape was eroded.

Shang Jingyan followed the rabbit to the center of the landscape. From a distance, she saw a huge, Q-version dessert. As she got closer, she realized it was a small house.

The door was made of chocolate, the roof tiles of gingerbread, the small night light of strawberries, and the eaves were covered in frosting. It was suspended in the darkness, like… a wandering food house floating in the galaxy.

Shang Jingyan: “…”

Pei Yi was truly consistent.

She deeply suspected that this guy’s first set of toys as a child was a children’s plastic kitchen set, and he played with mud and dough every day.

As with the previous procedure, Shang Jingyan began to absorb the black mist.

When the black mist around the small house was cleared, what was underneath was revealed.

“…Oh my.” Shang Jingyan looked up and sighed softly.

—What was revealed in the darkness was the same jellyfish-shaped creature as before, but this one was clearly not alive, and it was also smaller in size.

It lay feebly floating in the darkness. The dense black mist lowered and the large body was nothing but skin. The surface also lacked that colorful pattern, and was dry, pale, and white. Some places were broken, swaying gently like seaweed.

Or perhaps, this was just a skin, like insects and other creatures shedding their skin every so often.

Shang Jingyan had only caught a fleeting glimpse last time. This time she could observe its appearance carefully.

It didn’t look much different from a jellyfish, with a circle of shorter tentacles under the cap, slender like streamers, with spiral, wavy structures on the surface. There were three longer tentacles in the center, with smoother surfaces.

Shang Jingyan separated a small ball of light to poke it, thinking, is the difference between Pei Yi’s and Wei Wenbing’s illnesses this? The strange creatures on both sides, one was still alive, one was a shed skin.

…Perhaps more samples were needed to be sure.

Shang Jingyan couldn’t just take the whole thing back like last time, so she also cut off a small section and pushed the rest away, letting it drift away with the “water.”

She also left a small mark in Pei Yi’s mental landscape, in the shape of Pan’s goat head, carved on the candy house. As long as a jellyfish appeared, she would be able to detect it.

When she treated Wei Wenbing earlier, she also made the same mark.

Then, she returned to her own mental landscape and put the tentacle in a new glass jar.

Shang Jingyan: The two placed together look even more like jars of pickled jellyfish skin.

—By the way, she could freely travel back and forth between other people’s and her own mental worlds. It felt like switching maps in a game.

Shang Jingyan knew that she also had many unusual traits. She had no one to discuss it with, so she could only ponder it herself. Hmm… Could she really be the chosen one?

–

Pei Yi slowly woke up, feeling as if something heavy had been removed from his consciousness, and he felt lighter than ever before.

And Shang Jingyan smiled and held up her chin, projecting the light screen in front of him. “How do you feel? —Look, I’ve recreated the appearance of your mental landscape.”

–

The three episodes of “Infinite Heartbeat,” each more gripping than the last, continued to dominate the new drama charts in the Exile Star System, attracting more and more people’s attention.

[I’ve been hearing people talk about this Dreamweaver named Shang Jingyan lately. I heard she got first place in the entrance examination a while ago. She’s made a series now, has anyone seen it?]

[Me too. Several of my friends are watching, but I was put off when I heard it wasn’t romance. I’m hesitating whether to watch…]

[Infinite Heartbeat, the name sounds so dokidoki, I’m curious!]

Its name was too deceptive. Fans were all laughing when recommending it.

[All I can say is, it’s definitely heart-pounding, and it’s definitely infinite. Watch it and you’ll understand (dog head).]

[Watching it guarantees your heart rate will go up to 120! I’m a puppy if I’m lying.]

[Hahaha, you guys are all bad people. I’m an honest person, I’ll say first, if you want to understand Director Shang’s style, it’s best to watch the trailer first, and then see if you can accept it…]

As a long-running series, “Infinite Heartbeat” had its own sub-section in Shang Jingyan’s personal forum, just like “Building 18.”

It was originally a place for fans to discuss, but after the third episode aired last night, a thread with a rather peculiar style appeared in the sub section, titled: [What are you all guessing? The Witch of the Blizzard will definitely have a twist. Just wait and see.]

Main post: [As the title says. Shang Jingyan likes to be unexpected. The “thirteen travelers were killed by the witch back then” that you’re all analyzing is too easy to think of. Would she be so kind?]

1L: […Can’t tell if the OP is a fan or a hater with this tone. Observing from the front row.]

2L: [Searched the OP’s ID “Don’tLikeSweets.” The last post was called [“The supernatural ability of Little Mei in ‘Building 18’ is too illogical. It’s best to arrange it more carefully.”], it got into a huge argument. I think they’re a hater.]

[Ah! It’s her. This person is so good at nitpicking. Why is she watching “Infinite Heartbeat” now?]

OP replied: [No need to observe or search. I’ll tell you directly, I’m not a fan. I just watched Shang Jingyan’s works. And what nitpicking? I was having a reasonable discussion and analyzing the plot.]

The tone of “Don’tLikeSweets” seemed to inherently provoke. Her statements and the mainstream guesses in the forum also differed, making people especially eager to reply.

5L: [Since you’re so sure, what do you think the truth will be?]

OP replied: [How could you see the whole picture now? It’s only been three episodes. If it were me, I would definitely set up an information gap.]

10L: [Hehe, so after all that, you just don’t know! Everyone’s guessing, why are you so certain?]

OP replied: [I can actually guess a little. The “They” in the sentence at the end isn’t clearly designated. There’s another way to understand it: They are too scary, you run. “They” could be the people in the tour group, and the person he’s warning is the hostess and her daughter in the villa. By the way, who said the words in the diary must be true?]

[? Seems to make sense. Chilling, holy crap!]

[Makes sense? What’s so sensible about that! It’s nonsense! This dead person was also a member of the tour group. Why would he think his teammates were scary?]

[But isn’t the witch the villain setting? Ahhhh, my head is going to explode…]

Because of the OP’s speculation, the entire following page was filled with derivative discussions. Comically, the OP ignored everyone who argued with her.

Only when someone jokingly said, [OP, are you a fan? We’re not even this detailed…], the OP replied instantly: [I am not a fan of Shang Jingyan!]

—The person behind this “Don’tLikeSweets” was, of course, Hua Feitian.

She had been practicing diligently with her [NoSweets] alt account in the hide-and-seek game lately, but no matter how much she played, she couldn’t find Shang Jingyan. She felt that winning against others was meaningless.

So, after watching the three episodes of “Infinite Heartbeat,” she idly browsed Shang Jingyan’s forum. At first, she was just secretly comparing the number of posts and followers of their two accounts. But then she found that everyone’s discussions weren’t hitting the mark, and she couldn’t stand it anymore, so she posted.

Hua Feitian actually wanted to see what other people’s thoughts were, to help herself deduce the truth of “The Witch of the Blizzard.” From last night until now, she had only slept for five hours. The rest of the time, she was full of energy, arguing with everyone in the forum.

Someone threw out the all-purpose provocation [If you’re so good, why don’t you do it?]. She was even more unconvinced, planning to create a story using the snowstorm villa model next.

Beside her, Guan Gaoyang inadvertently glanced at her light brain interface: “??”

What was this? Wasn’t this Shang Jingyan’s personal forum? So you haven’t been sleeping in the middle of the night to lurk on her forum?

Guan Gaoyang was furious, feeling like his life was a joke. He couldn’t openly get angry, so he could only say in a low voice, “Tiantian, why are you always looking at her and ignoring me… You haven’t become her fan, have you?”

“I am not!”

Hua Feitian was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “I’m just understanding my opponent. How is that being a fan…”

She sat up, ready to argue with her boyfriend. Suddenly, she saw a private message pop up on her light brain. She frowned and said to Guan Gaoyang, “Wait a minute, I’ll talk to you later.”

Guan Gaoyang: “…”

What is it this time!

Hua Feitian opened the private message. It was an official account, precisely “Starry River Wandering Kitchen”—as someone who was watching her opponent, she had of course noticed this show’s invitation to Shang Jingyan.

Now, why were they looking for her?

–

Blue River Moon.

Shang Jingyan was perfecting the ideas for the next instance of “Infinite Heartbeat,” discussing it with the actors tonight. Her light brain popped up with a bunch of private messages.

Starry River Wandering Kitchen (Note: Not-so-reliable invitation, look again):

[Director Shang! Director Shang! Our show has a confirmed guest! Do you have any interest? I invited a guest, the show can get off the ground! My mom will also support it!]

Shang Jingyan paused in her writing and replied: [Who?]

She remembered telling Yun Yongxue that if that unreliable little Qin always invited him, to refuse first.

The other side replied: [You definitely know the person, it’s Hua Feitian!]

Shang Jingyan: “?”

She remembered that Hua Feitian had never been interested in participating in variety shows. Why did she agree to a group that hadn’t even been formed yet? Shang Jingyan couldn’t help but ask: [How did you invite her?]

[Hehe, I didn’t say much. I just said that you had a certain intention to participate in the show, and asked her if she wanted to compete with you, Director Shang. As soon as she heard that, she immediately agreed.]

Qin Xiao revealed a bit of pride in his tactics. He also gossiped, [Big Sister Yan, is it true that you two don’t get along, as the outside world says?]

Shang Jingyan: “…”

Little brother, your skills in deception have truly grasped the essence of how I used to swindle investors.