Translator: CinderTL
"Their collection of so many Gates and accumulation of so much despair must be aimed at awakening something."
"You all remember Xia Tan's resistance force, right? Over a dozen High-Ranked Disciples of the Door, including Xia Tan himself, vanished without a trace. In the end, only Xia Tan escaped—but at the cost of being completely corrupted by a Gate."
"What kind of Gate could drive him to such extremes?" Wei Jinting continued. "It's unimaginable."
"No. 1, I believe this is the Night Watchers' trump card. You must be extremely careful."
After Wei Jinting finished speaking, he waited several seconds for No. 1 to respond. When none came, he called out, "No. 1?"
A moment later, a furtive voice whispered, "No. 1 isn't coming. He said he couldn't bear to see an old man outlive his son and is drinking in his room. I heard he's even planning to write you a poem."
Wei Jinting exhaled deeply, then changed his tone. "Never mind. Since he's not here, No. 2, you listen instead. You and No. 1 are quite similar. You..."
"No. 4," the same hushed voice spoke again, sounding almost embarrassed. "No. 2 isn't here either. He said he couldn't bear to witness the final moment and went dancing with Miss Lin to drown his sorrows."
An awkward silence fell over the room. After about ten seconds, Wei Jinting cautiously asked, "No. 8, please don't tell me it's just you and No. 6 who showed up."
"No, that's not true," Fu Fu replied. "Everyone's here except No. 3, who said he was off fulfilling your dying wish."
"Oh, and No. 13 isn't here right now, but he's waiting outside to set off fireworks after you kick the bucket. He even came in earlier to hurry things along."
"Just say what you need to say," a calm female voice interjected. It was No. 7, Li Lu, who had arrived earliest and stood silently by the bedside. Her black formal dress was more fitting for the occasion—proper funeral attire.
"Oh, and No. 4," Fu Fu added reassuringly, "Mr. Wei was here earlier, but you were still unconscious, so he left. Probably thought you were taking too long to pass."
"Cough... cough..."
Hearing this, Wei Jinting, who had just calmed down, erupted into another violent coughing fit. Between gasps, he struggled to say, "No. 8, promise me... that you'll take a speech class when you have time. It'll be good for you. I'll cover the tuition... from my funeral expenses."
"Ah—" Wei Jinting turned his head, his bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at the ceiling as if trying to pierce through it to the world beyond. "I had so many words prepared... so many things I wanted to say to you all... but now... they've all vanished."
"Don't rush. We're here. Take your time," Chen Ran said, gently grasping Wei Jinting's hand, then loosening his grip slightly, afraid of hurting him.
Moments later, Wei Jinting, who had been still, suddenly thrashed wildly, blood oozing from every pore. "My... my mask! Where's my mask?!"
"Here! Here's your mask!" Chen Ran placed a small, toy-like mask into Wei Jinting's trembling hands.
Only after his fingers closed around the mask did Wei Jinting gradually quiet down, his blood-soaked body finally still. "The mask... the mask is here. Good. I'll think... I'll think slowly..."
As his chest, which had been heaving violently, gradually stilled, Wei Jinting stopped breathing.
Immediately afterward, No. 8 Fu Fu stepped back, took a deep breath, and shouted, "Crimson No. 4, Wei Jinting, has passed away!"
Her voice rippled outward like waves, carrying far beyond the building. Moments later, the night air erupted with the crackling of firecrackers and the brilliant bursts of red fireworks.
Around 10 PM, Fatty was sprawled on the sofa, engrossed in short videos. Just as a particularly thrilling moment unfolded on his screen, the bedroom door swung open, and Jiang Cheng emerged.
The sight of Jiang Cheng's face instantly snapped Fatty to attention. He scrambled to his feet, exclaiming, "Doctor, what's wrong?"
The dim light obscured Jiang Cheng's expression, but the faint glint in his eyes sent a chill down Fatty's spine. Something terrible had clearly happened.
Jiang Cheng grabbed his coat from the hanger and put it on. "Miss Lin called."
"Miss Lin?" Fatty's mind momentarily drew a blank. Then it clicked: That's Pi Ruan's secretary, the one he's been so shady with.
"Pi Ruan?" Fatty watched Jiang Cheng, who was already fully dressed and heading for the door.
"Doctor, wait for me!"
On the way, Fatty learned the whole story. After they left for Grey Stone Town, Miss Lin had lost all contact with Pi Ruan. Then, just yesterday, Xue Jinhua unexpectedly showed up at the company.
Miss Lin was terrified, but what followed left her completely stunned.
Instead of causing her trouble, Xue Jinhua insisted on gifting her company shares, a substantial sum of money, a luxury mansion, and a luxury car. In short, everything Pi Ruan had previously owed was now being transferred to her, whether she wanted it or not.
Miss Lin suspected foul play and adamantly refused. However, Xue Jinhua's sincerity was overwhelming. She even brought the contract, and as Miss Lin herself put it, Xue Jinhua was practically on her knees, begging her to accept.
Miss Lin meticulously scrutinized the contract multiple times, finding no loopholes. Every clause seemed undeniably favorable to her.
Overwhelmed by Xue Jinhua's relentless pleas—who claimed she wouldn't dare leave the office if Miss Lin refused—she reluctantly signed the contract in a daze.
"Damn it!" Fatty exclaimed. "Why does this kind of luck never happen to me?"
But after Jiang Cheng's gaze swept over him, Fatty's excitement gradually subsided. As his jealousy-suppressed intellect returned to full capacity, he sensed something was amiss. "I get it now, Doctor!" Fatty said. "Xue Jinhua would never be this generous on her own. She must have been forced—it's Pi Ruan! Pi Ruan must have forced her to hand over the shares!"
Jiang Cheng didn't respond directly. Instead, he revealed another piece of information: Xue Jinhua had recently died in her own bed. Her maid had discovered the body. There were no visible injuries, and the initial assessment pointed to natural causes.
For an ordinary 80-year-old, passing away peacefully in their sleep wouldn't be unusual. But when pieced together with everything else, the implications were terrifying.
The moment Fatty heard Xue Jinhua had died in her bed, a figure flashed through his mind—a man who was never seen without a book in his hand.
Luo He.
Fatty remembered witnessing Luo He use his power to trap Jiang Cheng in the dream world the ghosts had created to imprison Fu Fu.
The thought of using that ability in the real world sent a shiver down Fatty's spine.
As if sensing Fatty's thoughts, Jiang Cheng pulled out his phone and handed it to him. Fatty took the phone and saw a blurry photo, likely captured inadvertently by a surveillance camera.
The photo showed a luxury car driven by an elderly woman, with a man in the back seat, head bowed and reading a book.
(End of the Chapter)
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