Chapter 13: Ashes in the Incense Burner

After Lin Kuo finished speaking, he gave the butler a meaningful look.

Liang Sihong was about to say something, but upon seeing that look, he immediately changed the subject and smiled.

“Your rating definitely won’t be low.”

Lin Kuo had no interest in the rating whatsoever.

It was like asking him to submit his work for evaluation by a nitpicking layman; he wouldn’t listen to a single word.

Mentioning the Main God System again, sarcastic words instinctively rose to his lips.

Just as Lin Kuo was about to make a cutting remark, a clear, mellow voice suddenly echoed in his mind: Next time you offend, I’ll sing to you in person.

He froze for a moment, then stiffly shut his mouth.

The group followed the butler back to the second floor of the villa for the third time.

The long corridor stretched endlessly. The dim yellow wall lamps couldn’t pierce the darkness at the far end.

The butler led them. “Tonight, you still need to be careful… be careful. I hope… I hope you succeed.”

Just like the previous two days, the butler slipped away after saying this, leaving only the group standing there, exchanging glances.

Liang Sihong gave a bitter smile. “Only now do I understand. The butler’s nightly advice was never for us.”

On the first night, the butler had said, Don’t go out casually at night, because he had seen them—and was warning the people on the other side.

On the second night, he said, Be careful, because the other side had learned of the intruders and decided to act.

It was his way of showing concern.

Tonight…

The girl with the weakest presence couldn’t stop trembling.

“Do we really have to stay in the room tonight? Can’t we stay somewhere else?”

She was visibly repulsed by the second floor.

Liang Sihong hesitated.

“Nothing is impossible. You can go back to the first floor if you want, as long as you…”

He deliberately trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

Lin Kuo’s expression instantly turned grim. His tone was more severe than ever. “Don’t go down.”

He had easily guessed Liang Sihong’s unspoken words.

The full sentence was: as long as you’re sure the butler’s advice to return to the rooms was only for the other side.

Otherwise, going against the instance’s plot would lead to predictable tragedy.

Liang Sihong was guiding the girl straight into a landmine.

It was only the third night.

If the girl wasn’t killed downstairs and somehow survived tonight, maybe she could stay there again tomorrow night.

Unfortunately, fear had already consumed her rationality.

She didn’t listen to Lin Kuo.

After the corridor’s chaotic footsteps echoed once more, she darted down the stairs in a single bound.

Li Yinan subconsciously called out, “Xiaoyu!”

The girl named Xiaoyu ignored them, quickly disappearing from sight.

Liang Sihong shrugged and made a ‘what can I do?’ gesture.

“This was her choice too. Can you guarantee the first floor is definitely dangerous? Besides, the second floor is definitely dangerous. If she finds a safe spot, isn’t that good for you… for us?”

Lin Kuo laughed out of sheer anger.

“I hope you live long enough to verify that the first floor is safe.”

Liang Sihong’s smile froze.

The scar-faced man snapped, “What did Ah Liang say wrong? Stop f*cking cursing people.”

Lin Kuo ignored them both.

He chose the piano room again and called, “Li Yinan.”

She hurried after him.

Lin Kuo slammed the door shut behind them with a loud bang.

He trusted people too easily—but that made him all the more intolerant of those who trifled with others’ lives: people like Liang Sihong, the Main God System, and the malicious viewers of the livestream.

After shutting them out, he felt a little better.

Although Li Yinan was also disgusted with Liang Sihong, her own danger was imminent.

“I hope Xiaoyu will be okay.”

She looked at Lin Kuo.

“Boss, are we really going to hide in the closet tonight?”

The closet had partitions.

Lin Kuo was thin, but his height meant hiding inside would restrict mobility and cut off escape routes.

It was clearly unwise—yet he had said it himself.

Li Yinan tried to decipher his reasoning.

Then her eyes lit up. “Boss, I get it! You said that on purpose so the butler would hear it!”

A day had passed.

Lin Kuo re-examined the furnishings: the piano, the bed, the closet—few things offered real cover.

He gave a noncommittal Mmm.

Then he spotted the curtains by the bed.

They were long, thick, and wide enough.

After estimating, Lin Kuo stepped over and let them down.

“Hide here.” He pointed to the left.

Li Yinan tiptoed over and took her position.

Just as Lin Kuo glanced toward the door—thump thump—strange footsteps and murmurs echoed in the corridor.

Drive them out… Kill them… all of them!

No time.

Lin Kuo pulled the other side of the curtain closed and whispered, “Even if something tries to yank it open—don’t move. Stay wrapped in it.”

Li Yinan wanted to ask why, but Lin Kuo’s urgency was unmistakable.

The sounds drew closer.

Cold sweat broke over Li Yinan’s back.

Each breath made the chill burrow deeper into her bones.

She glanced toward Lin Kuo.

Thud thud thud!

Fists hammered on the locked door like muffled thunder.

But Lin Kuo remained fearless.

Li Yinan could only admire him more.

Sensing her gaze, Lin Kuo looked back. “They’re coming in.”

Bang—!

The doorknob broke and fell, cracking the tile floor.

An indescribable chill swept in with the open door, as if it could rip out one’s soul.

Lin Kuo gently parted the curtain to peek.
There was nothing at the door, just silence—but the footsteps continued.

His gaze followed the sound toward the closet.

Swoosh.

The door slid open.
Lin Kuo’s pupils shrank.

Click.

He snapped one last Polaroid and stuffed it into his pocket, gripping the curtain tight.

He signaled Li Yinan—hold on.

Her heart pounded in her ears.
She could hardly breathe.
The sharp scent of incense ash burned her lungs.

She choked—twice.

No! I’m going to die here!

Something yanked her curtain.
Then—whoosh—a handful of incense ash rained down on her.

In that moment, Lin Kuo pulled her aside.
“Run!”

The room, coated in ash, burst into a blinding haze as they moved.

They dashed into the corridor.

At the corner, Lin Kuo let go.
“Take off your shoes!”

Li Yinan scrambled to obey.

“Stay here. Don’t move.”

As she huddled against the wall, she watched the floor in horror.

Footprints.
Dozens of footprints—hers, Lin Kuo’s… and something else.

“Boss!”

She saw Lin Kuo dart into another room.
The crash echoed endlessly.

She took one step forward—then froze.
He said not to move.

She didn’t dare.
She couldn’t burden him again.

Tears streamed down her face.

Why me? Why this world? Why can’t I be stronger?

She collapsed, sobbing.

Then—

“Are you okay?”

That voice?

She looked up.
Lin Kuo stood before her, chest heaving.

“Boss…”
She stood, wanting to hug him.

Lin Kuo recoiled in horror, stepping back.

Realizing her mistake, he awkwardly rubbed his nose.
“I’m not used to…”

Li Yinan: “…”

[Another disappointing day.]
[This instance is trash. Couldn’t even make the dog streamer give in.]
[This streamer is ridiculous.]
[S: How is he ridiculous?] (High-ranking leaderboard marker)
[God S! Look at me!]
[Notice me, Senpai S!]
[S: Isn’t this great? Maintaining a safe distance from the opposite s*x.] (High-ranking leaderboard marker)
[????]
[Ah???]

The awkwardness chased away Li Yinan’s fear.

Lin Kuo led her beneath the second-floor staircase.

“It’s safe here. Wait until dawn.”

Li Yinan noticed his bare feet—cut and bleeding.

“Boss, I’m sorry… I almost got you killed.”

“No,” Lin Kuo said.

“I almost got you killed.”

He knew the shutter sound had drawn them.

To stop her guilt from festering, he asked, “Remember the first film?”

She nodded.

“The butler wasn’t in it. If they can’t see us, how did they kill Zhu Hai and Wang Miao?”

She thought about the ash, the room, the clues— “It’s the incense ash!”

Lin Kuo nodded.

“The ash on Zhu Hai was focused on his face. Something threw it at him.
Wang Miao had it on his hands—he tried to block it.”

But his position was bad—on a bed, no room to run.
The ash made him visible… and marked for death.

Li Yinan caught on quickly.

Then she asked, “Boss… then why did you tell the butler where we were hiding?”

Lin Kuo: “Mainly, to take a picture.”

He held up the developed Polaroid.

It showed three figures:

1. One holding an urn of incense ash.
2. One pulling open the closet.
3. One with a peachwood sword, mid-ritual.

They had no idea they’d been caught on camera.

“We saw the incense ash on Zhu Hai—but not the peachwood sword stuck in him. That proves the sword belongs to their side. But the incense ash… doesn’t.”

He added, “So I wanted to verify whether incense ash makes us visible—or both sides visible.”

The photo revealed another detail:
The one throwing ash wore gloves.

They’re afraid of it too.

“There are two nights left. We can’t sit and wait to die.”

Li Yinan almost dropped to her knees.

After recovering, she asked, “What was the secondary reason?”

“Secondary?”

Back to the butler.

Lin Kuo’s face chilled.

“If I told Liang Sihong directly, he’d use someone else as a shield again.”

Then he mocked, “I hinted to him. Whether he understands or not… is his business.”