The Hand of Confession – Chapter 131

Volume 5: Days of Applying Makeup to Corpses

Bad Women

Bad women are the most charming

Lou Jingmo: “…” What a bizarre train of thought.

It wasn’t the first time she’d discovered that Shen Maomao was a weirdo, she was used to it by now.

Xiaoqiao came back with food, eating with relish, while Gong Lian also took a portion and sat beside her.

Shen Maomao swallowed hard, certain thoughts stirring in her mind as her stomach growled noisily.

Lou Jingmo pressed her shoulder gently but firmly: “Bear with it, it’ll pass.”

Guan Qiwen beside them couldn’t hold back anymore, muttering to himself: “I think food without taste is more suspicious. Everyone else has eaten, and nothing’s happened to them…”

Lou Jingmo said coldly: “Do as you please.”

So Guan Qiwen stood up and inched step by step toward the food.

Shen Maomao simply closed her eyes and nestled in Lou Jingmo’s embrace, out of sight, out of mind.

Not long after, the people who went to search for clues returned.

Shen Maomao looked up and found that the number of returning people far exceeded her expectations. She leaned close to Lou Jingmo’s ear and whispered: “Lou-jie, do you remember how many of us there were?”

Lou Jingmo subtly moved her head aside, lowering her eyelids and saying faintly: “Forgot.”

Just two words, crisp and decisive.

Others had already taken their seats, and the originally spacious cafeteria suddenly seemed crowded. A group of people hurriedly passed by them with a whoosh, then returned just as quickly, and sat down on the stools to eat.

Shen Maomao felt like she was watching a play with mediocre actors – everyone’s expressions were stereotypical and fixed, and when she looked around, she even felt a bit face-blind.

Lou Jingmo said: “My guess is likely correct, but we’ll have to wait until tomorrow’s breakfast to confirm the specifics.”

Most people in the cafeteria weren’t actually people, yet they could sit here and eat. Can humans eat what ghosts eat? Only the ghosts would know the answer to that question.

Now they could roughly determine the pattern of food service in the funeral home – dishes that smelled fragrant but had no taste alternated with those that had no smell but tasted good, one type per meal. Skipping a meal would only leave you hungry for a while, but wouldn’t starve you to death.

The two waited patiently for a while, and soon enough, others put down their chopsticks.

San Huang had eaten until his belly was round, with his shirt buttons popping open underneath. However, he didn’t seem to mind, instead patting his round belly and saying: “We’ve managed to survive the first day safely. Everyone saw what happened last night – what are your thoughts on this?”

The main event had begun.

Shen Maomao straightened her back; since she had slept through it and hadn’t seen the monster, she was very curious about others’ opinions.

As soon as he finished speaking, a man said: “Is there something in the funeral home attracting that monster?”

Another woman said: “Aren’t we the bait?”

“I don’t think that’s likely. There are people outside too, so why doesn’t it attack them? Why is it only interested in this funeral home?”

“You have a point. There must be something special about this funeral home, we just haven’t found it yet.”

“Some rooms haven’t been opened yet, we should find the keys first!”

“There are still some buildings in the funeral home’s courtyard we haven’t even entered. It’s too late today, why don’t we check tomorrow?”

What followed was a cacophony of chaotic discussions, with everyone voicing their opinions, creating a complete mess.

San Huang knocked on the table and maintained order: “Alright, alright. Everyone stay calm. We still have plenty of time, we’ll continue the investigation tomorrow. The funeral home’s defenses should hold for a while longer. If that ghostly thing comes out to cause trouble again tonight, there’s no need to be so frightened – just get some peaceful sleep.”

Those extra people were quite obedient, dispersing quietly.

Shen Maomao wanted to see where they all lived, but Xiaoqiao stopped her in her tracks.

Xiaoqiao blocked her path, smiling sweetly: “I remember you live alone, right?”

Shen Maomao nodded: “Yeah, what about it?”

“I’ll sleep with you tonight,” Xiaoqiao said directly.

Shen Maomao glanced at Gong Lian behind her and said: “Why do you want to sleep with me? Won’t that leave Gong Lian sleeping alone?”

Xiaoqiao frowned: “None of us wanted to see Gong Lian’s death. You don’t need to remind me like this.”

Shen Maomao: “??”

Xiaoqiao added: “Forget it if you’re unwilling,” and turned to leave.

Shen Maomao: “…” Fine then, everything had been arranged crystal clear for her.

Gong Lian smiled at her, turned to follow Xiaoqiao who was walking out of the cafeteria, and both figures disappeared into the vast night.

It was then that Shen Maomao realized there had been zero communication between Gong Lian and Xiaoqiao from start to finish.

It seemed… Xiaoqiao couldn’t see Gong Lian.

But she, Lou Jingmo, Guan Qiwen, and the Great Poet and her group could all see Gong Lian coming out of room 102, so what exactly was going on with Gong Lian?

Lou Jingmo stood up, called for Guan Qiwen, then pulled her towards the exit, saying as they walked: “Gong Lian is definitely dead.”

But she had been revived by some kind of force and had fixated on Xiaoqiao.

Regarding Gong Lian’s death, Xiaoqiao hadn’t actually done anything – she had merely chosen to be a cold observer, not bothering to pretend sympathy for someone who was dying.

The formerly caring and attentive Xiaoqiao could coldly watch her die, while Shen Maomao, who didn’t even get along with her, was willing to lend a helping hand – even though it ultimately failed.

Perhaps this was why Gong Lian held a grudge against Xiaoqiao.

Shen Maomao felt emotional but said: “Xiaoqiao isn’t a good person, but Gong Lian isn’t any better, haunting her just because she didn’t help.”

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll hear you and come after you?” Lou Jingmo said mysteriously.

Shen Maomao changed her tune: “But bad women are the most charming, I’ll definitely learn from them.”

Guan Qiwen: “…” What a person without principles.

Lou Jingmo also said: “If you were like them, you’d have died in the game already.”

Shen Maomao immediately declared: “Though bad women are charming, they’re not as charming as you, Lou-jie. I should learn from you – to turn clouds with a flip of the hand, to master the game…”

Guan Qiwen: “…” Brown-nosers [舔狗 | tiǎn gǒu | slang for someone who excessively flatters others] are truly impressive.

Lou Jingmo pushed her away with a finger to her forehead: “Instead of wasting time on flattery, why not think about what kind of plot this instance is trying to convey.”

As for whether she was pleased by the flattery, others couldn’t tell.

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The second-floor corridor remained empty. To confirm who the actual players were, Shen Maomao followed Lou Jingmo’s instructions and started knocking on doors one by one.

Door after door opened from the inside, revealing identical expressions of impatience.

Even though at the moment they opened their doors, she could remember who lived in which room, but after they closed their doors and went back inside, all information about them completely vanished from her mind—she couldn’t remember either the appearances or names of the people she’d just seen.

After making the rounds, Shen Maomao’s mind was blank. As if walking on soft clouds, she floated back to Lou Jingmo’s side, entered their room together, and after closing the door asked: “Lou-jie, how many did you remember?”

“Not a single one.”

She turned to Guan Qiwen: “Xiaoguan, what about you?”

Guan Qiwen silently shook his head.

It seemed the instance wasn’t going to let them distinguish between players and ghosts.

“The people I can remember are—” Shen Maomao counted on her fingers, “Xiaoqiao, Gong Lian, San Huang, the Great Poet, and us three.”

Lou Jingmo added: “Also Xiaokong who despised you, the middle-aged woman who argued with San Huang, and the two men who kept watch with me, though I can’t remember their faces anymore.”

Guan Qiwen continued: “The person I can remember is Dao Ba who drove with me, but I can’t remember the other one…”

He paused, then added: “Like those whose roles I know but faces I can’t remember, there’s also San Huang’s teammate who always praises him; the man who lent me the Hundred Ghosts Illustration; and the newcomer who, according to San Huang, got them chased by the monster outside until they were running for their lives…”

Shen Maomao: “?? That’s already 16 people? What’s going on?” They definitely didn’t have this many people at the start! And what’s with this Hundred Ghosts Illustration? It sounds so ominous, and Guan Qiwen was really brave to read it.

Lou Jingmo asked: “Where’s the book?”

Guan Qiwen generously handed over the book, passing it to Lou Jingmo.

The book had a brown cover, looking very ancient and classical, with the words “Hundred Ghosts Illustration” written in gold with a blue-green tint, reminding Shen Maomao of the blue-green skin of the monster in the fog.

Lou Jingmo quickly flipped through the pages, scanning ten lines at a glance.

Shen Maomao leaned in for a look and found that most pages contained illustrations of ghosts with green faces and protruding fangs. She wondered which master artist had drawn these, making them exceptionally realistic – each malevolent spirit looked as if it might step out of the page at any moment.

After looking through it, Lou Jingmo turned to a specific page and opened the book for them to see: “Look at this one.”

This entire page showed a single enormous monster.

It had blue-green skin covered in black mane, red hair on its head with two small horn-like protrusions, one eye on its forehead and another on its chin, both eyes gleaming with murderous intent, as if ready to devour someone at any moment.

No matter how Shen Maomao looked at it, the image seemed familiar.

Guan Qiwen, who was more familiar with the monster outside than her, couldn’t help but cry out: “It’s that thing!”

Lou Jingmo raised her eyes to look at him.

Guan Qiwen said: “I read rather slowly, haven’t gotten to the back yet.”

Lou Jingmo asked: “Do you remember who gave you the book?”

Guan Qiwen replied: “Just thinking about it, I definitely can’t remember, but I might recognize them if I see them.”

Shen Maomao couldn’t help but criticize: “How can you be so reckless? We can’t even bring our phones into the instance, yet you dare to accept a book from a stranger?”

Guan Qiwen rubbed his nose: “Maybe I was bewitched?”

Come to think of it, that was entirely possible.

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