Qi Zhiyong was in a sour mood.
Besides him, the most valuable and seemingly confident companion, He Qiong, had died bafflingly in that basement.
Only the two sisters, their clothes smeared with mud, had returned to the inn. Since their return, they had been clinging to each other, weeping bitterly, adding a somber note to the evening's bonfire gathering.
The sound of their crying irritated Qi Zhiyong. He slammed his plate sharply.
"Enough! Don't waste precious time on all this crying and sobbing!"
The two women finally stopped and pulled out tissues to wipe their swollen, red eyes.
"Let's talk about what we discovered today. The dead are already dead—we need to figure out how to stay alive."
Wen Chao looked completely different from the day before. Overnight, he seemed to have aged ten years. He no longer resembled a university professor, but more like a disheveled, lost old wanderer.
"I didn't find much. Just picked up some junk," he said, opening a small bottle of liquor and taking a harsh swig of Erguotou. The strong drink made him cough violently, his face flushing instantly.
"That hit the spot!"
For the sake of his ideals and research, he hadn't touched alcohol for thirty or forty years.
But today, there was no need to care about that anymore.
Wu Xian looked thoughtfully at Wen Chao's bag. Inside were tape, wooden planks, firecrackers, steel pipes, some bottles, and miscellaneous electronic parts.
As a detective, Wu Xian had once studied what to do if weapons couldn't be obtained through legal means.
His final conclusion was that robbing from gangs was the easiest solution.
But from what he had learned, he could tell exactly what this old man intended.
"This old guy's not simple at all."
Qi Zhiyong frowned and then looked at Shi Ji.
"And you?"
Shi Ji recounted his encounter in the canteen, though he left out the part about the statue. He added some other information.
He had found a diary behind the canteen's counter, which detailed the whole story.
The starving man's name was Chen Yan, who had come to Laifuyuan City to seek refuge with relatives named Yu Yinghua.
When Chen Yan went to eat, the canteen owner's enemy recognized him. The owner kidnapped Chen Yan and locked him in the basement during the day, providing only basic water with no food. At night, the owner would set out food in the canteen but gag Chen Yan and tie him to a pillar in the middle of the canteen.
Day after day…
Chen Yan was starved to death in a canteen full of endless food.
The canteen owner had also planned to kidnap Yu Yinghua, but Yu Yinghua had already disappeared by then, forcing the next kidnapping plan to be abandoned.
Qi Zhiyong only cared about information that might help him survive tonight. Wen Chao was a bit drunk, the Su sisters kept sobbing, and no one paid much attention to the story.
But Wu Xian asked curiously, "What was their grudge?"
"The canteen owner's son disappeared years ago. When he was found, he was a dried corpse. The police suspected he was starved to death. This was connected to Chen Yan."
"I see…"
Wu Xian nodded and took over the conversation, sharing his own discovery.
"Today I went to the inn's secret room and found some documents. The inn's owner is named Wang Zhiwu, and his wife is Yu Yinghua—I'm sure everyone remembers that name."
"They only took over the Peaceful Inn two years ago. Before that, it was run by a couple surnamed An."
"Interestingly, the An couple deliberately kept the guest records from about ten years ago, and the names Wang Zhiwu and Yu Yinghua appear in those records."
The secret room at the inn was the last place Wu Xian had visited today.
His instinct told him that understanding what had happened here was probably more useful for survival than blindly trying to grow stronger.
At this point, Qi Zhiyong suddenly interrupted.
"By the way, I ran into a wanderer named An Xin today. He told me his daughter went missing ten years ago. His wife went mad because of it. He's worried no one will take care of his wife after he dies and asked me for help."
Wu Xian's eyes lit up. "What did you say?"
"I didn't say anything. I killed him."
Wu Xian was speechless.
That lead ended right there.
The Su sisters kept sobbing and were no use for any valuable information, only blaming themselves for He Qiong's death and saying they didn't want to live anymore—utterly meaningless.
...
The night gathering ended abruptly.
Wu Xian returned to his room, washed up, and lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, organizing all the information gathered since the beginning.
Among the things he found in the secret room was a newspaper.
The paper recorded a piece of news.
A woman named Zhao Juan had gone mentally unstable after her husband's death. Overwhelmed by grief, she committed suicide in room 406 of the Peaceful Inn.
This was also why Wu Xian had been attacked by the malevolent spirit at the very beginning.
This piece of news was like a puzzle piece, connecting the clues they had gathered before. The story that had unfolded here gradually became clearer.
The inn's owners, Wang Zhiwu and Yu Yinghua, Mr. Wang from Fuxin Huayuan, and the starving ghost from the community canteen—all four belonged to the same criminal gang.
Ten years ago, they had committed multiple serious crimes in the area. Their victims included the original inn owner's family, the community canteen owner, and the cursed spirit Zhao Juan.
Two years ago, this gang decided to turn over a new leaf. The Wang couple took over the Peaceful Inn; Mr. Wang was entangled with Zhao Juan, and the starving ghost was kidnapped. Their dark deeds were becoming harder to hide...
But on the surface, it all sounded like an ordinary case.
How then, did this become the origin of the malevolent spirit disaster that plagued this world?
...
Three o'clock in the morning.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the empty corridor as the Break-Door Demon arrived right on schedule.
Thud. Thud-thud!
The footsteps stopped. A huge figure abruptly appeared at the door of Room 408.
"Sign… there are… living beings here."
The Break-Door Demon lifted its massive foot and kicked the door open like a piece of scrap paper. Its enormous, grotesque head poked inside—but it saw nothing.
"No one... fooling me!"
"Roar!"
The demon let out an angry roar.
The next second, the corridor lights went out. When the lights flickered back on, the Break-Door Demon had vanished, leaving behind a trail of tiny footprints in the lime dust on the floor.
The footprints led into Wu Xian's room and the others'.
...
Room 406.
Wu Xian was fast asleep, legs tucked under the quilt.
Neither Yu Yinghua's knocking nor the demon's door-breaking had stirred him beyond a sleepy blink.
It wasn't that he was careless, but that it was unnecessary.
He already had a clear idea of what would happen. Even if awake, there was nothing he could do. And if something unexpected occurred, he had long since prepared a contingency plan.
"Hehe, come play, come play."
"Hehe."
In his sleep, Wu Xian suddenly heard childish voices calling.