The director disagreed, “You barely ate dinner, how can you not be hungry? Tomorrow’s shoot is very important. Look at your small body, what if you get low blood sugar and delay the schedule? Come on, let’s go eat together. It’s included in the rental fee, so we might as well enjoy it.”
Under the director’s enthusiastic invitation, Bai Lixin followed the others toward the kitchen.
They had finished shooting in the castle’s living room, so to get to the dining room, they had to cross the hall.
When passing by the hall, he once again saw the lavish throne.
Remembering Emil’s words, Bai Lixin couldn’t help but take a closer look.
Upon careful inspection, Bai Lixin noticed details he hadn’t noticed before.
The throne was crafted intricately, with both armrests shaped like snake heads with closed mouths.
On the wall behind the throne hung a huge oil painting. It was a half-body painting—not the upper half, but the lower half.
The painting only showed a person’s lower body. It appeared to be a man in a cloak, with his hands extended from within the cloak and clasped together, holding a scepter at the bottom like the way a swordsman held his sword to the ground. The scepter had two intertwined snake tails forming the shaft, with a cobra head at the top, and two rubies set on either side of the cobra’s head as eyes.
The snake’s eyes seemed to stare out of the painting, and the artist had highlighted the rubies, making the snake head look alive, as if it were gazing outward.
Bai Lixin paused and closely examined the painting.
He had studied art and would often stop to appreciate good artwork.
The artist’s name was inscribed in the upper right corner of the painting. Bai Lixin squinted to make it out.
Shami… er?
An unfamiliar name.
The painting had formed a layer of grime on its surface, suggesting it was quite old, likely at least two hundred years.
He couldn’t recall any famous painter with that name from two centuries ago. So it was probably an artist whose work had fallen into obscurity.
Even if the painter wasn’t renowned, a two-hundred-year-old oil painting still held significant value.
If the castle owner could hang such a painting here, and if the crystals on the velvet throne were real, they would be worth a fortune.
Logically, the castle owner shouldn’t be short of money, so why would they rent out the castle?
Bai Lixin shared his doubts with the director.
The director: “I asked the agent. The agent said the owner is a foreigner who inherited the castle from a relative. He doesn’t live here and hires people to maintain the place. Since it would otherwise sit idle, he rents it out through the agency.”
“But not everyone can rent this place. Though the rent is lower than similar properties, the owner has high standards. He reviews the renters’ information and only agrees if he’s satisfied. There’s only about a one-in-several-chances approval rate, and no one knows what his criteria are. I was just trying my luck and didn’t expect to be accepted.”
“The agent told me that the last rental was three months ago.”
As they talked, they reached the dining room.
The long dining table was laid out with many dishes. Though not extravagant, it was a bountiful spread.
The crew members naturally found a place to sit and began eating heartily.
The director also pulled Bai Lixin to a seat.
No sooner had they sat than Bai Lixin’s stomach let out a loud growl.
Hearing this, the director laughed, “You said you weren’t hungry, but your stomach says otherwise. Eat up!”
With that, he grabbed a big portion for himself and started eating, commenting as he chewed, “This is quite good. The owner must have good taste. I’ll rent here again if we need this type of setting.”
Nearby, the others were happily eating, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation after a long day.
Beer was also set on the table, and the crew assumed it was a treat from the owner. They opened the bottles and drank.
Laughter and cheerful chatter filled the air.
An arm rested on his shoulder. Bai Lixin turned his head and saw it was Emil.
The blond young man sat beside him and whispered, “Did you hear anything when you came in earlier?”
Bai Lixin shook his head, “What did the voice say to you?”
The blond young man: “It said, ‘Welcome.’”
Bai Lixin: “…”
‘Welcome?’
That made him feel even less inclined to eat.
“Emil joined us too?” The director handed a beer over Bai Lixin to Emil, “Thank you for your hard work today, have a drink.”
Frustrated, Emil grabbed the beer and, before Bai Lixin could stop him, took a large swig.
He downed most of it in one go, then slammed the bottle down on the table in frustration, “Forget it. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t make sense of it anyway!”
Bai Lixin: “…”
‘No, Brother, even if you can’t make sense of it, don’t you atleast find it odd?’
Everyone ate and drank heartily. The crew members were considerate. After eating, they didn’t pat their butts and leave, but helped to clean up the table.
While it wasn’t spotless, it looked tidy enough.
The castle was quite large. According to the contract between the director and the owner, their designated rest area was the guest room section on the second floor.
The guest rooms were easy to find, they were not far from their filming location.
Bai Lixin counted twelve rooms in this corridor, divided into three configurations. Single, double, and four-person rooms.
Bai Lixin shared a room with his agent, Emil got a single room, some of his bodyguards took turns keeping watch outside the door, while the rest slept in the four-person room.
As for the others, they split up according to preference, so the twelve rooms were just right.
It was already eleven p.m by the time the rooms were assigned. The director sent a message to the group chat: [Tomorrow’s shoot starts at 10 a.m. Teacher Emil, you need to be up by eight for makeup, and everyone else, be up by seven.]
Bai Lixin glanced at the message and asked his agent, “Do I have to get up at seven too?”
The agent: “No. Your scenes are later tomorrow, so sleep in a bit.”
He looked at Bai Lixin with satisfaction, then stretched out his index fingers and thumbs to form a frame, “You did great today; you were born to be in front of the camera.”
Bai Lixin remained indifferent, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not interested.”
“Alright,” the agent sighed and put his hands down, “I still can’t convince you.”
…
At one in the morning, the steady, gentle snoring of his agent came from the bed next to him, but Bai Lixin couldn’t fall asleep.
For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this castle was very strange, as if something terrible would happen the moment he closed his eyes.
He turned on a small nightlight, gently took out a small blue booklet from under his pillow, and began reading it.
An hour passed before he knew it, and Bai Lixin’s consciousness started to blur as drowsiness crept over him.
Just then, his phone vibrated, and the buzzing sensation jolted his mind back to alertness.
He picked up his phone and saw it was a familiar, unlisted number.
It was a number he had seen recently—Emil’s phone number.
Bai Lixin tiptoed to the bathroom and answered the call in a low voice, “Hello, Emil? What’s wrong?”
But Emil didn’t speak on the other end of the line, all Bai Lixin heard was an eerie rustling and heavy breathing.
Hearing that rustling sound, a chill climbed up Bai Lixin’s spine.
He had heard a sound like this before, back when he first met Cao Lin in the school infirmary.
It sounded like a snake slithering over sand.
Bai Lixin held his breath.
Then he heard Emil’s terrified voice, “W-who are you? Why are you in my room?”
Bai Lixin could tell that this question wasn’t directed at him.
Someone else was in Emil’s room.
The heavy breathing echoed eerily through the phone, carrying a strange sense of oppression.
Then he heard a hoarse, deep male voice, “I treated you to a fine dinner, now it’s time for you to treat me.”
Emil’s voice trembled, “You…you want to eat me?”
A loud crash suddenly came through the phone, nearly rupturing Bai Lixin’s eardrum.
It seemed that the phone had collided with something heavy—perhaps it had been thrown.
“Ah!” Emil’s piercing scream followed, followed with desperate cries for help, “Let go of me! Bai Lixin, save me! Please, save me!”
“Heh, no one can save you. You ate my food, so you must pay the price.”
The rustling sound gradually faded, leaving only the still-connected call.
Bai Lixin stood frozen in place, staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror.
The young man in the mirror was pale, his expression stiff with horror.
Emil had been kidnapped!
The words flashed across his mind.
He quickly looked down and fumbled with his phone, trying to contact the director to report what had happened.
His fingers hurriedly fell on the phone, but they passed right through it.
Bai Lixin’s expression froze, and his face grew even more rigid.
He…actually left his body?
Why was his soul leaving his body? Hadn’t he consumed enough from Dr. Dijia before coming here?
What should he do?
Dr. Dijia wasn’t here, nor was the ghost husband.
Without sustenance, could he even return to his body after leaving it?
When out of his body, he couldn’t see it. He was basically like a lost child that was unable to find their way home.
It was nearly impossible to return to his body on his own.
Was it because there was something wrong with this castle that his soul left his body?
Looking at the still-active call on his phone, Bai Lixin took a few deep breaths and gradually calmed himself down.
He knew that staying here wouldn’t help him return to his body.
Since this strange castle could cause his soul to leave his body, maybe it could also help him return.
Emil had called him at his most desperate moment, hoping that he could come to his rescue.
Bai Lixin took another deep breath.
‘Damn it! Whatever happens, happens!’
‘Fortune favors the bold, the timid starve.’
‘Let’s go check it out!’
He left the bathroom quietly. His agent was still still fast asleep, unaware of his departure.
Out in the hallway, a soft, warm yellow light illuminated the long corridor.
Emil’s room was at the very end. As Bai Lixin approached, he found the door slightly ajar, with two men lying on the ground outside. They were Emil’s two bodyguards.
Were they dead?
Bai Lixin squatted down and leaned closer to observe the two bodyguards.
He could hear their steady breathing.
Bai Lixin let out a sigh of relief.
They were only asleep, not dead.
The light was still on in the room. Bai Lixin entered and saw clear signs of a struggle.
Bottles and jars were shattered on the floor, and items on the table were scattered in disarray.
The bed was messy, and Emil’s shoes were still on the shoe rack, untouched.
His phone lay among the shards of broken glass, its screen still lit, showing an ongoing call.
But the battery icon in the top right corner was red; it would probably shut off on its own soon.
Strange, with such loud sounds from the chaos, how come no one heard?
And why had the two bodyguards fallen asleep?
Did the culprit do something to them?
Or was there something wrong with the midnight snacks they had eaten?
Bai Lixin didn’t dwell too long on these questions. The main priority now was to find Emil’s whereabouts.
From the way the culprit had spoken on the phone, it seemed like he intended to treat Emil as food.
Was this culprit some kind of cannibal?
If he took too long to search, would Emil end up as the culprit’s meal?
Luckily, Emil’s earlier outburst had caused water from a vase to splash onto the culprit’s clothing, so there was a long trail of water stains on the floor.
The trail was faint, and if he didn’t hurry, it would soon disappear.
Without wasting much time, Bai Lixin quickly followed the water trail.
It led from the second floor down to the first, stretching towards the throne, but then vanished halfway.
Bai Lixin followed it to where the trail stopped.
He looked around and fixed his gaze on the throne not far away.
Emil had mentioned hearing a sound during the day.
He had heard it while sitting on the throne; could it be that there was some hidden space beneath it, and sound traveled through the solid surface to reach Emil’s ears?
The huge painting hung behind the throne, the two blood-red snake eyes staring down like arrogant gods, coldly judging him.
Bai Lixin glared at the painting and suddenly felt annoyed, “Keep staring, and I’ll slash you with a knife!”
Snake staff: “…”
After venting, Bai Lixin approached the throne and circled around it.
If there was space beneath the throne, there must be some sort of entrance.
He searched for a moment, then remembered that he was currently in a soul state; he didn’t need to find an entrance.
He tried plunging straight into the ground.
Without warning, he found himself face-to-face with a pair of blood-red eyes.
Bai Lixin froze, then realized that what he was looking at wasn’t alive but a sculpture.
There was indeed a hidden space beneath the throne.
With a shiver, Bai Lixin let his entire body pass through the ground again, and ended up below.
He looked around the area.
The space was wide. In front of him was a large door, and behind him was a staircase leading up, likely connecting to the base of the throne.
A thick carpet covered the spot above, and no one would ever suspect that there was a secret chamber beneath.
Two three-meter-high snake statues stood on either side of the door, which was engraved with designs resembling a magic array.
It was very dark and eerie. It looked like the secret lair of some cult from a TV show.
Ever since he’d been able to leave his body, he’d really opened his eyes to strange things.
Passing easily through the door, he entered a massive circular room.
The room was arranged like an altar, with spectator stands around it similar to those in an arena, and a conspicuous circular platform in the center.
At this moment, the circular platform was full of people standing around. They all wore black cloaks and held candles in their hands.
The man in the lead held an ancient, worn book in both hands, chanting words Bai Lixin couldn’t understand.
A pentagram was drawn on the floor beneath the circular platform, with Emil lying on it, his hands and feet bound.
Emil’s face was filled with terror, and his mouth was stuffed with a thick piece of cloth.
These people—they really looked like cultists.
Bai Lixin wasn’t sure if they could see him, so he cautiously moved closer.
“Oh great Snake God,” the man in the lead suddenly closed the book and opened his arms, his voice filled with excitement, “Your loyal believers present this most delicious offering to you, please accept it with delight!”
The magic circle beneath Emil suddenly emitted an eerie red glow.
Seeing the light, the surrounding believers gasped in shock and awe, and hurriedly knelt down in unison.
Bai Lixin wasn’t sure what was happening and could only watch carefully.
Under the expectant gazes of the cultists and Emil’s horrified eyes, a blurry shadow emerged from the magic circle. It was at least five meters tall, resembling a monstrous creature with the body of a man and the tail of a serpent.
Bai Lixin had never seen anything so bizarre, and he was momentarily transfixed.
The snake tail wrapped around the pale-faced Emil and lifted him to eye level, as if smelling his scent.
A thunderous voice echoed above Bai Lixin’s head, like a giant bell crashing into his mind.
“I’m satisfied with this offering. What is it that you desire?”
