Chapter 66: Zhang Yi has a Ghost

“Mumu’s diary.”

The way Zhang Yi affectionately referred to Zhou Mu made Lin Kuo furrow his brows. This man couldn’t even recognize Zhou Mu’s handwriting—clearly, his so-called feelings weren’t as deep as they appeared.

Still, Zhou Mu had entrusted Lin Kuo with delivering the diary to Zhang Yi as his dying wish. Entrusted with a task, Lin Kuo would see it through. So he took the diary out.

Handing it over personally, Lin Kuo watched Zhang Yi open his mouth, as if wanting to say something, yet unable to find the words. When Zhang Yi’s trembling hands finally closed around the diary, Lin Kuo felt as if a boulder in his heart had finally dropped. A sense of relief washed over him.

Without sparing Zhang Yi another glance, Lin Kuo tugged Sheng Wen along and headed for the main hall to eat.

The two sat down at the table. Lin Kuo placed the “Humpback Whale” ghost’s eye on the table. Sheng Wen grinned and said,
“My boyfriend is amazing.”

Lin Kuo replied matter-of-factly,
“My partner is even more impressive. Not only did he get the Slippery Ghost’s eye, but he also took the Great Tengu’s eye.”

“…”

He quickly changed the subject.
“The others still haven’t come out?”

Lin Kuo shook his head.
“When I left, both the Rain Woman and Wisteria Spirit still had their eyes open.”

He paused before adding,
“The beads haven’t shattered, so there’s no need to worry.”

Just as Sheng Wen was about to say something, a group of people came marching into the hall. Sheng Wen instinctively pulled Lin Kuo closer, then looked up to see who was leading them.

It was Wang Qing’s team.

Earlier, when Lin Kuo had entered the “Humpback Whale” painting, Wang Qing had left with harsh words, promising revenge. Judging by their demeanor now, they were here to stir up trouble.

Lin Kuo met their gaze, his own expression icy.

But instead of hostility, Wang Qing greeted them with an ingratiating smile. His team had just emerged from a painting themselves and had heard that Sheng Wen had taken the “Great Tengu’s” eye from Zhang Yi. Zhang Yi was their team’s strongest fighter; for Sheng Wen to overpower him meant Sheng Wen wasn’t someone to cross lightly.

Knowing Sheng Wen had partly done it to avenge Zhang Yi’s treatment of Zhou Mu, Wang Qing swallowed his pride, stepped forward, and apologized to the two.
“We really were in the wrong. I’m here to apologize. I also heard you returned something to Yi-ge, right? Since you’ve vented your anger, could you give the Great Tengu’s eye back to us? Yi-ge worked hard to get it in that painting.”

With Sheng Wen’s fiery temper, he’d usually only calm down after stripping their team of every eye they had. But since Lin Kuo was beside him, Sheng Wen said nothing, waiting for Lin Kuo’s judgment. Whatever Lin Kuo decided, he would accept.

Lin Kuo’s voice was flat:
“If Zhang Yi got the eye, it’s not your place to demand it.”

Wang Qing’s smile faltered.
“Are you saying you want Yi-ge to come personally to apologize? There’s no need to go that far. He’s injured and will probably be bedridden for days. You should leave him some dignity—leave a thread of goodwill for the future.”

Guo Huai, another teammate, chimed in,
“Brother, you don’t look like you’re short on points. The reward for completing the Hundred Ghosts Scroll is only ten thousand points. You already lost eighty thousand just from that fight. Why fight us over an eye? Yi-ge might be unlikeable, but he has his reasons.”

Lin Kuo had no interest in their excuses.
“Zhang Yi will come to me.”

Not understanding what Lin Kuo meant, Wang Qing’s face darkened completely.
“Fine. If you want to break the rules, don’t blame us for bullying you with numbers.”

Sheng Wen, annoyed, waved his hand.
“Get lost.”

Seeing that neither Lin Kuo nor Sheng Wen would back down, Wang Qing had no choice but to retreat for now.

Sheng Wen quickly served Lin Kuo some food.
“Eat more. You’re too thin.”

Lin Kuo ate in silence for a while, then looked up at Sheng Wen.
“Sheng Wen, something feels off.”

“What’s wrong?” Sheng Wen asked, piling more meat into Lin Kuo’s bowl until it was full.

Lin Kuo pondered.
“What reasons could Zhang Yi possibly have?”

Sheng Wen didn’t dwell on it. He glanced at Lin Kuo’s untouched food, frowning.
“Obviously just an excuse to get the eye back. Stop overthinking it. Eat. Cold food will hurt your stomach.”

Lin Kuo remained quiet for a moment.
“Zhang Yi is on the leaderboard, so why didn’t he fight back?”

He was referring to when Sheng Wen had beaten Zhang Yi. Zhang Yi’s eyes had burned with hatred; his clenched fists trembled as if he wanted to tear Sheng Wen apart—but he never retaliated.

Sheng Wen’s arrogance stemmed from his wealth of points; he could act recklessly. But if Zhang Yi was also ranked, he had no reason to hold back. Guo Huai had said it himself: ten thousand points from “Hundred Ghosts Scroll” was nothing for someone of that level. Yet Zhang Yi had humbled himself and pleaded for the “Great Tengu’s” eye. Why?

After some thought, Lin Kuo murmured,
“He can’t afford to spend his points.”

Sheng Wen focused on piling food into Lin Kuo’s bowl. Lin Kuo lowered his voice.
“The last person on the leaderboard… how many points do they have?”

Sheng Wen thought for a moment.
“Not sure. Probably five or six million.”

The leaderboard used a hundred-slot system. Lin Kuo’s train of thought drifted, distracted for a moment.

Noticing Lin Kuo’s distracted gaze, Sheng Wen chuckled, resting his chin on his hand, drawing out his tone playfully.
“S-god must have over a hundred million points. I can’t count that many zeros.”

Then he smirked.
“Want to know how many points I have?”

Lin Kuo was curious.
“Of course.”

He pulled out his phone and opened his profile.

Name: Lin Kuo
District: Lower City, B Zone
Address: Building 23, Apt. 7-708
[Personal Ability] [+] (Tap to view details)
[Points Information]
Points Balance: 9,830
Rank: 71,355

Sheng Wen smiled.
“Once this dungeon ends, you’ll finally break five figures.”

Lin Kuo blushed faintly.
“…I’m not worthy of you, am I?”

Sheng Wen’s smile vanished. His tone grew serious.
“Don’t say that. What’s mine is yours.”

Seeing Sheng Wen’s expression, Lin Kuo realized he’d said the wrong thing and quickly changed the subject.
“…Did you see Zhang Yi’s expression when I gave him the diary?”

“Yeah.”

Zhang Yi had cradled the diary like it was something precious, his eyes fixed on its cover, unwilling to look away.

That was exactly what puzzled Lin Kuo. Someone who couldn’t even recognize Zhou Mu’s handwriting had reacted like that? If Zhang Yi truly cared about Zhou Mu, why abandon him? Zhou Mu had implied they hadn’t spoken in a long time—long enough for him to reach Upper C District, digging for news until he learned Zhang Yi was alive and already in Upper A.

If Zhang Yi cared, why hadn’t he reached out even once?

Sheng Wen frowned.
“…You think he was trying to transfer points?”

Seeing Lin Kuo’s confusion, Sheng Wen explained:
“Once you reach a certain point threshold, you can advance districts.”

He traced an “S” on the table.

Lin Kuo understood: Zhou Mu’s strength was likely between Upper C and Lower A Districts. He’d been living near the border, ideally staying in Lower A to farm dungeons until he was strong enough for the Upper Districts. But Zhou Mu had rushed to find Zhang Yi, and the moment he had enough points, he ascended districts without hesitation.

The Upper City was dangerous; the only way out of the Walled City was through the S-Zone’s S-level dungeon. Sheng Wen implied Zhang Yi might have planned to transfer his points to Zhou Mu. Even though districts couldn’t be skipped, with enough points Zhou Mu wouldn’t need to clear dungeons in the Upper City—just pass through a few doors, though it would take time.

But if Zhang Yi really gave Zhou Mu his points, he wouldn’t have enough left to cover the Upper City’s daily fees. That would mean death.

Lin Kuo shook his head.
“If he really loved Zhou Mu that much, he’d recognize his handwriting. And the diary itself was Zhang Yi’s idea for Zhou Mu in the first place. He couldn’t even recognize that?”

Relationships were more complex than any dungeon puzzle. Lin Kuo couldn’t make sense of it, so he concluded,
“Zhang Yi’s hiding something.”

When he finished speaking, he noticed Sheng Wen staring at him intently. Lin Kuo touched his face instinctively.
“Is there something on my face?”

Sheng Wen asked softly,
“You saw Zhou Mu in the Humpback Whale’ painting?”

Lin Kuo nodded, his eyes bright.
“I held him.”

Sheng Wen smiled.
“That’s good.”

Afterward, Lin Kuo told Sheng Wen everything that had happened inside the “Humpback Whale” painting. They finished eating, then strolled around the outer wall of the courtyard.

On their way, they ran into Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan emerging from the “Wisteria Spirit” painting. Both looked pale and drained, Lin Zhi’s usual liveliness replaced by melancholy.

Lin Kuo asked, concerned,
“What happened?”

Lin Zhi let out a small whimper. Zhang Mengnan explained,
“The Wisteria Spirit was too devoted. It was… touching.”

“…”
“…”

Lin Zhi glanced at Lin Kuo, then at Sheng Wen, handing Lin Kuo the ghost’s eye with a sigh.
“When will I meet a man who only has eyes for me? And he has to be willing to marry into the Lin family, too—since I’m the only heir.”

Zhang Mengnan gave an awkward laugh.

Since they’d come out, the group decided to check on the “Rain Woman” painting, hoping to see when Guan Miao and Jiang Sheng would emerge.

But instead of them, they found Zhang Yi.

He had cut his finger and was preparing to enter another painting. Wang Qing and his team tried to dissuade him.
“Yi-ge, you’re in no condition to…”

They left the rest unsaid but tried again,
“At least get some rest.”

Duan Qiu warned coldly,
“Zhang Yi, don’t throw your life away.”

Zhang Yi shoved away those blocking him.
“Out of my way.”

Ignoring everyone, he smeared his blood on the ghost’s eye.

Lin Kuo didn’t recognize this ghost, but Sheng Wen whispered beside him,
“Echo of the Deep Valley. Rank three among the Hundred Ghosts.”

Hearing Sheng Wen’s voice, Zhang Yi glanced over, saw the two of them, and opened his mouth as if to say something. But in the end, he said nothing, only tightening his grip on the diary in his pocket before stepping into the painting without looking back.