Chapter 14: A Gift for Lin Kuo

Lin Kuo had his own temper.

In normal times, he wouldn’t have associated with people like Liang Sihong and the scar-faced man—he wouldn’t even have spared them a glance.

Even in this instance, where the stakes were life and death, Lin Kuo—who wasn’t one to fuss—felt he had already done more than enough.

Li Yinan also agreed. But she still remembered that piercing scream.

Her eyes widened as she said, “Boss… it seems they didn’t understand.”

That scream made Li Yinan imagine the worst, which she now shared with Lin Kuo.

Lin Kuo was a bit surprised.

He hadn’t heard the scream.

At the time, he’d been fleeing from the other side, crashing into a room to hide.

He had taken off his shoes, stained with incense ash, and hidden under a table.

When they had broken into the room, he’d used the chaos to slip back out.

From Li Yinan’s description, it seemed Liang Sihong and the scar-faced man had been in serious trouble.

Although Lin Kuo disliked them both, hearing the news still stunned him for a moment.

“Was my hint not obvious enough?”

Hiding in the closet—wasn’t that clearly a signal to seek cover?

Li Yinan gave a helpless, bitter smile.

People with insufficient intelligence really couldn’t keep up with Lin Kuo’s thinking.

Worried he might blame himself, she quickly added, “Boss, you can’t be blamed. You hadn’t even confirmed if incense ash made us visible at that point. And Liang Sihong was already acting like he knew everything. It’s not your fault.”

Lin Kuo pursed his lips and replied stiffly, “…Thanks.”

He looked toward the corridor. It was long and empty.

If not for the light seeping out from under the doors, it would’ve been hard to even spot the incense ash on the floor.

“How long until dawn?” he asked.

Li Yinan quickly checked her phone.

“About half an hour.”

Lin Kuo looked down the corridor again, then stepped out from the nook beneath the stairs.

“Boss, what are you doing?” Li Yinan called out anxiously.

Lin Kuo paused, half-turned, and said, “You stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

Hearing that, Li Yinan froze.

“Then… then, Boss, be careful.”

“Okay.”

Without looking back, Lin Kuo disappeared into the corridor.

The bullet chat mirrored Li Yinan’s confusion:

____________________________________________________________

[Wouldn’t he be fine under the stairs? What’s he doing?]
[Is he thinking of a counter-kill?]
[Counter-kill? With those skinny arms? Really?]
[He looked pathetic hiding, but this suicidal charge is kinda beautiful ngl.]
[If this dog streamer actually pulls it off, I’ll call him Daddy.]

____________________________________________________________

Sheng Wen stared at the screen.

No matter how you looked at him, Lin Kuo looked like the frail, sickly type.

He was tall, but so thin it made him appear gaunt.

Yet his sharp, cold features exuded a kind of chill that warned others not to underestimate him.

As if sensing something, Lin Kuo looked up.

His gaze swept forward—and for a second, Sheng Wen felt as though Lin Kuo had looked right at him.

He knew it wasn’t real.

Still, sensing the icy sharpness in Lin Kuo’s eyes, Sheng Wen smiled.

He knew what Lin Kuo was about to do.

Perhaps, in the entire Walled City, only he understood Lin Kuo’s thought process.

As Sheng Wen expected, Lin Kuo entered a quiet bedroom, calmly turned the doorknob, and stepped inside.

He searched the room and found a clean, unopened pair of new socks in the closet.

Then he went to the bathroom and grabbed two rinsing cups, stuffing them into his pocket.

Next, he returned to the piano room from earlier, carefully avoiding the incense ash scattered on the floor.

He paused by the door, listening intently.

After confirming it was safe, he half-knelt, slipped the socks over his hands, and began scooping the incense ash into the rinsing cups.

The bullet chat exploded:

[Ah? Why’s he collecting incense ash?]
[Is he trying to make them visible?]
[Is this seriously a counter-kill in the making?]
[Wait… why does this dog streamer actually seem clever?]
[Where’s the guy who said he’d call him Daddy?]
[I said if he counter-kills! He hasn’t yet! Don’t cue me!]
[Are the dog streamer defenders okay??]
[PUA’d over a few words?? Really?]
[You’re not ‘Sweet as the Wind’ are you?]
[I am Sweet as the Wind. Want your name erased from the census?]

Sheng Wen watched them argue, amused.

His points began rising again after the sharp drop from earlier.

The more chat activity, the more points he earned.

The little streamer is finally earning points…

Strangely satisfied, he adjusted the contract split from 30-70 to 10-90 in Lin Kuo’s favor.

Back in the instance, Lin Kuo didn’t know the bullet chat was shifting in tone.

After filling two rinsing cups with incense ash, he paused.

His gaze drifted to the bathroom—there were more rinsing cups there, and enough incense ash left to fill at least seven or eight more.

He went to the bathroom and grabbed two more empty cups.
But when he returned…

The cups he’d already filled were gone.

His face darkened instantly.

Where did they go?

He scanned the room, held his breath, and listened carefully.

Da da da da.

Footsteps exploded in his ears.
He could feel something brush past him.

They’re back.

Lin Kuo instinctively pressed himself to the wall and moved cautiously to the piano.
In this situation, with no way to see the enemy, the best option was to find cover.

The piano provided that.

He crouched beside it.

Lowering his viewpoint, he spotted the two rinsing cups.
They had rolled near the bed, some ash spilled as if kicked over.

Then he saw it—
A foot.

Covered lightly in ash, pacing around the room.

It hovered near the closet.
Near the bed.
Then slowly moved toward the piano.

If Li Yinan had been here, she would’ve been trembling.
But Lin Kuo wasn’t worried.
He trusted his judgment.

If the piano was safe—it would remain safe.

Sure enough, after lingering a moment, the foot retreated.
Disappointed footsteps echoed as the door clicked shut.

Lin Kuo waited a beat, then prepared to stand.
There wasn’t much time left.
He had to refill the cups before the butler cleaned everything up at dawn.

But just as he moved, his gaze fell on the piano leg.

He had taken a few steps when something felt off.
He turned back.

There—
Carved on one of the piano legs were three characters.

A gift to Lin Kuo.

His heart skipped.

Were these just common characters?
Or… was this piano his?

The questions came flooding in—but this wasn’t the time.

He shook the thoughts off, refilled the cups, and made his way back under the stairs.

Li Yinan, who had been holding her breath the whole time, finally relaxed.

“It’s almost dawn,” she said.

Lin Kuo nodded, planning to hide the rinsing cups.

Then—

“What are you doing?”

A sudden voice startled them.

“Ah!” Li Yinan cried.

Lin Kuo turned around.

“…None of your business.”

It was Liang Sihong.

He looked like hell—disheveled, pale, drained.

He glanced at the corner where Lin Kuo stood, then looked away.
In a tone tinged with grief, he said, “Ah Jian’s gone.”

Ah Jian—the scar-faced man.

The scream from last night…
Li Yinan had thought both of them had died.
So this news didn’t shock her too much.

Seeing the flat reactions, Liang Sihong gave a cold smile.

“Disappointed I survived?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Lin Kuo peeled off the socks on his hands and prepared to check their room.

Liang Sihong stopped him.

“Don’t go.”

Lin Kuo raised an eyebrow.

“It’s gruesome,” Liang Sihong said. “Ah Jian cared about his looks. Let him keep some dignity.
I know you’re looking for clues. I was hiding in the room all night. If you have questions, ask me directly.”

Hearing the word gruesome, Li Yinan shuddered.

They had survived the third night.

Not an easy feat.

Liang Sihong had always been obsessed with clues.

Now, his sudden desire to stop Lin Kuo reeked of guilt.

He clearly understood Lin Kuo’s hint the night before.

But instead of warning the scar-faced man, he’d let him die in his place.

Lin Kuo didn’t want to waste words.

He still insisted on going.

As he walked away, Liang Sihong called out, “Last night… they said there were four left. Seems the butler already told them how many of us remain.”

That clue meant little to Lin Kuo.

So Liang Sihong added, “They also mentioned a name. Lin Kuo… guess whose name they called out?”

Lin Kuo stopped walking.

“It’s dawn,” Liang Sihong continued.

“Let’s eat first. Everyone’s been hiding all night. We need to replenish our strength.
Don’t worry. I’ll tell you everything at the table.”

“You’d better.”

Lin Kuo’s face was openly annoyed.

The three descended to the first floor, passed through the living room, and reached the dining room— Someone was already sitting there.

“Xiaoyu!” Li Yinan exclaimed in delight.

Even Liang Sihong looked genuinely pleased.

Not just because she was alive, but because her survival proved one could safely stay on the first floor.

Xiaoyu turned to look at them.

It was the first time Lin Kuo had seen someone’s complexion go so gray it looked inhuman.

She raised a trembling finger…

And pointed at Lin Kuo.