Chapter 63: Diary

Lin Kuo and his group started examining the painted wall from the far end, arriving finally at the last ghost, ranked one-hundredth on the scroll—the Wisteria Spirit.

Although Sheng Wen had participated in a round of “The Hundred Ghosts Scroll” before, he was only familiar with the top-tier ghosts. He had no knowledge of those at the bottom of the rankings. Fortunately, Guan Miao understood it well.

Guan Miao smiled at Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan, who were visibly startled by the mural of the Wisteria Spirit, and reassured them gently:

“The art style looks terrifying, but the Wisteria Spirit generally doesn’t harm humans. She’s a ghost of deep affection and unwavering devotion.”

The words “deep affection” and “devotion” seemed to ease Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan’s tension, and even Lin Kuo himself relaxed somewhat.

As if anticipating Lin Zhi’s question, Guan Miao spoke before she could ask:

“The one the Wisteria Spirit loves is the person who personally planted her. Humans age and die, but to wait for her lover’s reincarnation and see him even once, she transformed into a spirit. That’s her story. You just need to use her nature to find a way to claim her eyes.”

He paused and then added:

“You don’t need to feel guilty. Even if you take their eyes, they won’t die. After this dungeon ends, the ghosts’ eyes will be returned.”

Relief washed over Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan.

“Thank you, Brother Guan Miao,” Lin Zhi said gratefully.

“Don’t mention it,” Guan Miao replied.

He continued:

“To enter the scroll, you just need to prick your finger and smear your blood on the ghost’s painted eyes. If either of you two girls don’t dare cut your own fingers, I’m sure your Brother Sheng Wen can help.”

“…” Sheng Wen’s face darkened.

“What? You get to play the nice guy, and I get to do the dirty work?” he muttered.

Guan Miao chuckled without responding.

Lin Zhi raised her hand toward Sheng Wen.
“Come on, sis-in-law, I’m not afraid of pain.”

“I’m not afraid either,” Zhang Mengnan echoed softly.

Lin Kuo watched this scene quietly. The world inside The Hundred Ghosts Scroll was breathtaking: the courtyard stood halfway up a verdant mountainside, and from this height, they could see morning clouds rolling at eye level, so close it felt as if one could reach out and brush their fingers through the colorful mist. Around the courtyard, manicured greenery and bright blossoms of every shade created a painterly backdrop.

For the first time since entering the dungeons, Lin Kuo felt at peace—not only because of the scenery, but also because of the people by his side. He even had the fleeting thought that he wouldn’t mind if time froze at this very moment.

Sheng Wen plucked a leaf from a nearby branch and looked at Lin Kuo.
“Ready for me to do it?”

“Go ahead,” Lin Kuo replied.

“…” Lin Zhi was speechless. She had expected her brother to tell Sheng Wen to “be gentle,” but apparently she had been overthinking.

Sheng Wen used the leaf to make quick cuts on Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan’s fingertips. His movements were so fast that neither of them had time to feel the pain before droplets of blood welled up.

Both women smeared their blood onto the Wisteria Spirit’s painted eyes. The ghost’s pupils shifted, locking onto them. The wall rippled like water, the mural shimmering with magic.

“Just step through,” Guan Miao instructed.

Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan approached the wall and walked forward. Their figures disappeared into the rippling surface. The wall soon returned to normal, except for faint bloodstains marking their choice.

“Let’s move on,” Sheng Wen said.

The remaining four continued along the courtyard wall, examining each ghost. By the time they reached ghosts ranked around 20–50, they noticed that several ghosts were depicted in faded gray tones.

Guan Miao’s expression turned sheepish.
“Damn, I forgot to check the name registry in the flower hall.”

Sheng Wen shrugged.
“Wouldn’t have helped anyway.”

Lin Kuo agreed. In this kind of competition dungeon, no team would willingly reveal their status by crossing out names; doing so would only let other teams know they’d lost members. There was no advantage.

“No one in their right mind would use that registry,” Sheng Wen added.

Jiang Sheng, walking with them, looked thoughtful, but said nothing.

They circled the courtyard a bit longer until Sheng Wen stopped and tilted his chin toward one of the murals.

Lin Kuo followed his gaze. The painted ghost’s features were blurred, as though its colors had been washed away, but it was clear this was a female ghost.

“Ah,” Guan Miao breathed. “Rain Woman. You’re really setting the bar high for me.”

“Too difficult?” Sheng Wen asked.

“Not really,” Guan Miao replied.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“…” Guan Miao suspected Sheng Wen was intentionally giving him a hard time. With a silent sigh, he pricked his own finger and smeared his blood on the Rain Woman’s eyes.

Jiang Sheng quickly followed suit, pricking his finger as well, though Guan Miao had to lift him up so he could reach.

Holding Jiang Sheng in his arms, Guan Miao said,

“We’ll go ahead. You two, be careful.”

Just like before, the wall rippled as they stepped through, but this time, droplets of water trickled down its surface, carrying with them the earthy scent of rain.

“How strong do you think she is?” Lin Kuo asked.

“Ranked around 20 or 30,” Sheng Wen answered. “Not weak.”

Then, looking at Lin Kuo, Sheng Wen added with a teasing smile,

“If you want to ask me something, just say it. I won’t hide anything from you.”

Lin Kuo hesitated, then asked gravely,
“Why choose the Rain Woman? There are lower-ranked ghosts we could’ve picked.”

Instead of answering aloud, Sheng Wen took Lin Kuo’s hand, smoothing his palm open. Using his fingertip, he traced characters into Lin Kuo’s skin.

“You two are friends, aren’t you?” Lin Kuo asked quietly.

Sheng Wen nodded. “Yes. We’re friends in the real world too.”

Lin Kuo frowned. That made Sheng Wen’s silent message all the more suspicious. In this world, the main system monitored all spoken words and actions, but not thoughts. Writing in someone’s palm was the safest way to share secrets.

If Sheng Wen had chosen to write rather than speak, it meant his words were dangerous to say aloud.

In Lin Kuo’s palm, Sheng Wen had traced: I’m suspicious of Guan Miao…

Just as he finished that word, a group of people approached.

Lin Kuo looked up; Sheng Wen stopped writing.

The group was led by Wang Qing, with Zhang Yi among them. The upper-city players were herding lower-city players like prisoners, forcing them toward the painted walls.

Zhang Yi shoved one man forward, pressing his head so hard against a mural that his face nearly flattened.

“Two choices,” Zhang Yi said coldly. “Pick a ghost, or come with me to face the Slippery Ghost.”

The others trembled.

“I… Please, Yi-ge… I’m just from District B,” the man whimpered. “I can’t face a ghost alone.”

“Then come find the Slippery Ghost with me,” Zhang Yi said flatly. He glanced at the others. “Your choice?”

They stayed silent, torn between death sentences: facing a ghost alone or being used as bait against one of the deadliest ghosts.

Everyone had heard of Zhang Yi’s reputation: a ruthless, efficient killer in the dungeon world. Following him was no guarantee of survival; he would discard anyone who slowed him down.

“Stop wasting my time,” Zhang Yi said impatiently.

Someone finally broke.
“I-I’ll face a ghost alone…”

At Zhang Yi’s signal, Wang Qing cut the man’s finger and smeared his blood on the mural.

Lin Kuo and Sheng Wen watched openly. The chosen ghost was ranked just below the Rain Woman. Sheng Wen glanced at Lin Kuo.
“‘Nine Lives Cat Demon.’ Odds are he’s done for.”

Sheng Wen smirked like he was watching a show, then caught himself and quickly schooled his expression.
“…They’re being pretty cruel,” he added.

“Are they?” Lin Kuo murmured.

“…” Sheng Wen smiled faintly.
“Do you want to be a hero, boyfriend? I’ll follow your lead.”

Lin Kuo said nothing, just watched Zhang Yi closely.

One by one, the upper-city players forced the lower-city players to make their choices, cutting their fingers and smearing blood on the murals. Duan Qiu and Guo Huai kicked them through the rippling walls without ceremony.

One man tried to resist, but skeletal hands reached out from within the wall, seizing his head and yanking him inside. His scream was cut short.

Zhang Yi grabbed another victim by the neck and dragged him toward the Slippery Ghost mural.

Sheng Wen muttered, “We can’t just stand here.”

He grabbed Lin Kuo’s hand, leading him forward. Lin Kuo realized Sheng Wen’s choice was also the Slippery Ghost.

They closed the distance quickly. Sheng Wen pricked his finger and smeared his blood on the mural’s eyes before Zhang Yi could claim it.

“Sorry, brother,” Sheng Wen said casually. “The Slippery Ghost is mine.”

He turned and beckoned.

“Come here, boyfriend.”

Lin Kuo walked forward. As he passed Zhang Yi, he “accidentally” dropped Zhou Mu’s old notebook on the ground.

Bending to pick it up, Lin Kuo heard Zhang Yi’s voice above him: “Wanna die?”

“Yes,” Sheng Wen said lightly.

Catching on to Lin Kuo’s ploy, Sheng Wen added deliberately, “Boyfriend, why’d you drop your notebook?”

Zhang Yi glanced down. The notebook’s worn leather cover was cracked with age. He kicked it aside, sending it rolling to reveal the scrawled pages inside: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

Lin Kuo straightened and met Zhang Yi’s gaze.

“Pick it up.”

Zhang Yi looked at the notebook again, then tossed his captive aside and stepped forward. He stared down at it for a moment before grinding his boot onto the cover.

“What if I don’t?” he sneered.