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墨書 Inktalez
"You... what are you?" I looked at the calm Hu Fang in surprise. Hu Fang smiled and replied, "It's nothing, just casual. Come eat..." As Hu Fang spoke, he brought the food to my mouth.
Afterward, I finished dinner with a sense of unease while everyone chatted cheerfully inside the house. I lay quietly on the bed without saying a word, my mind replaying Hu Fang's words: "You, what do I need to do to get the Void Spirit?"
I don't know how long it had been when suddenly a fierce wind picked up outside, and large raindrops pounded against the roof. "Is it pouring rain?" Hu Fang said as he turned to look outside.
"Yeah, it's getting late. You all should go rest; I can manage here by myself." Upon hearing my sudden words, everyone fell silent and turned their gazes toward me.
I looked at them and repeated, "Go rest; you all must be exhausted after these two days." Hearing this, they had no choice but to return to their rooms.
...
Just like that, I stayed in the village for a whole week. One day, I woke up feeling much better; the pain had disappeared.
Just as I was about to get out of bed and stretch my limbs, a stranger pushed the door open and entered. "Who are you!" I exclaimed, flipping off the bed.
As I steadied myself, I noticed this person was about my age, dressed in a brown hoodie and sweatpants, with what seemed to be a backpack slung over his shoulder. Seeing me a bit tense, he waved his hand and said, "Don't misunderstand; I'm sent by Mr. Death to find you."
I asked in confusion, "Mr. Death? Are you the Death Apostle?" He took off his hoodie’s cap and replied, "That's right; I'm Mr. Death Apostle."
This person was handsome with well-defined features; his only flaw was slightly dark skin. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but I ignored it and asked warily, "How do I know you're really sent by Death Apostle?"
He awkwardly withdrew his hand and said, "Death Apostle anticipated that you would doubt him. So he didn't tell me what he wanted from you; he just instructed me to find you here and take you to a designated place. Whether or not you believe me is up to you."
After hearing this, I hesitated for a moment but then thought that even if he wasn't sent by Death Apostle but rather one of Gu Kai's subordinates, it would be a good opportunity to figure out what Gu Kai was really up to.
With that in mind, I asked, "When do we leave?" "Now..." the man answered readily.
Hearing this and fearing it might be a trap that could involve Li Zhisheng and the others again, I quickly agreed before they woke up: "Alright!"
I organized my belongings and packed them into my backpack. "Alright, let's go," I said as I stood up and headed for the door.
"Mr. Death Apostle, your three friends are still here. Aren't you going to call them?" He handed me four plane tickets.
I took out the boarding passes and saw that they had my name, along with Hu Fang, Li Zhisheng, and Meng Zhuang, and the boarding time was set for six hours later.
Although I was a bit surprised, with Gu Kai and Death Apostle's abilities, it wasn't difficult for them to obtain our ID numbers and calculate the entire itinerary so precisely.
However, it was clearly impossible to hide this now. Since that was the case, leaving them behind could lead to other dangers, so I had no choice but to wake them up and explain the situation.
After understanding the circumstances, the three of them didn't question me further but completely trusted my decision, which genuinely touched me.
Before leaving, I left some money for Wang Po as a token of gratitude for her care over the past few days. She told me that if I ever needed help in the future, I could always come to her.
After bidding farewell to Wang Po, the five of us set off on our return journey. It took about an hour to get from the village to Luodian, and then two and a half hours from Luodian to Guiyang. Considering some delays along the way, we arrived at the airport exactly five hours later.
Standing at the airport entrance, I noticed the unfamiliar man who had brought us here was standing outside and didn't seem inclined to go in. I asked, "What's wrong? Aren't you coming in? Otherwise, we won't make it in time for boarding."
He seemed unconcerned and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offering one to me. "This is far enough; just wait a bit." I pushed his hand away and asked in confusion, "Wait? Wait for what?"
"Waiting for someone," he replied as he placed a cigarette in his mouth and skillfully lit it with an elegant lighter.
Seeing him smoke, Meng Zhuang couldn't help but take out his own cigarettes and join in.
"Why are we waiting here? Who are we waiting for?" I asked, feeling a bit impatient.
The man kept his eyes fixed on the exit without turning back. "No need to rush; he will arrive within half an hour."
Seeing his demeanor, I decided not to ask any more questions and stood aside watching people of all kinds pass by me continuously.
More than twenty minutes had passed, and Hu Fang and Meng Zhuang seemed a bit impatient, pacing back and forth in front of me. "How much longer do we have to wait?" Meng Zhuang asked.
I gestured towards the direction where the unfamiliar man stood. "Ask him; I have no idea how much longer we need to wait."
To my surprise, Meng Zhuang actually walked over to the unfamiliar man and offered him a cigarette. "Hey, buddy, how much longer are we going to wait here? The plane is about to take off." He even pulled out his phone to show the time.
The unfamiliar man smiled at me as he accepted the cigarette from Meng Zhuang. "Man, you're too straightforward."
Meng Zhuang didn't quite understand what he meant and was about to ask more when a familiar figure appeared before us. This person, dressed in a black tailcoat, stood out starkly against the crowd.
"It's really you!" I exclaimed in surprise. The Death Apostle took off his top hat and held it in his hands. "Who else would you think it is?" Not far away, Meng Zhuang rushed over upon seeing the Death Apostle. "Mr. Death, what are you doing here?"
"I came to hang out with you guys," the Death Apostle said, patting my shoulder and Li Zhisheng's, signaling us to follow him. As he led us forward, he whispered, "There are too many people here; it's not safe to talk. Let's find another place where I can explain."
Soon, we took a car to a restaurant in the city that had no customers at all. The Boss hurriedly urged the waiter to attend to us as soon as he saw customers arriving. The waiter approached us with an unwilling expression and monotonously asked, "How many of you are there? Where would you like to sit? What would you like to eat..." He fired off all his questions at once.
I thought to myself, "With this kind of service attitude, if it weren't for discussing business, I would definitely turn around and leave." Meanwhile, the Death Apostle pulled out his wallet and tossed some bills at the waiter dismissively. "Bring us a few glasses of water and then leave us alone."
The waiter immediately brightened up upon receiving the money. "Yes, yes! What kind of water would you like? Still water, juice, or red wine?" The Death Apostle didn't even look at him as he coldly replied with three words: "Boiled water."
Hearing this, the waiter nodded eagerly and dashed into the kitchen.
The six of us found a corner table to sit down. Meng Zhuang turned to the Death Apostle and said, "You still gave him money despite his poor service? If it were me, I wouldn't even bother with him."
Before the Death Apostle could respond, I interjected, "Actually, this is what they say: 'A pitiful person must have something detestable about them.' You see that it's almost dinner time and there's not a single customer here? Regardless of how good the food might be, first impressions matter—this service attitude drives people away. Naturally, if they don't make money because of poor service, the Boss will take it out on them. When employees get scolded too often, they end up working with that same bad attitude; it's a vicious cycle."
The Death Apostle carefully placed his coat and hat aside. "You're not wrong at all. But what we're looking for right now is precisely this kind of empty restaurant. Otherwise, I wouldn't be doing this."
"Alright then, let's get down to business," the Death Apostle said as he straightened up. "I won't beat around the bush with you guys; I'll be straightforward. The reason I'm here personally is twofold: first, I'm worried that Gu Kai might find out about our whereabouts—just like when you went to Meng Zhuang's hometown—so I used a diversion tactic to make him think I'm here to bring you back."
“Did you make a fake ticket?” Li Zhisheng interjected. Death Apostle smiled, “The ticket is real. You can take it and board the plane right now. If I had made a fake ticket, how would Gu Kai know I was planning to come back for you? I specifically had someone buy a real ticket.”
“That’s the second reason I came here. A few days ago, my assistant…” He gestured to the stranger sitting beside him, “discovered a legendary Ghost Building in Guiyang. This building is located in a bustling area, but it has never been occupied since its construction. According to people nearby, strange noises like arguments and children crying can often be heard coming from inside at midnight.”
I frowned slightly and said, “If that’s all there is to it, it’s just a haunted place, not even as notorious as the rumors you told us about Gui Tian Village. As for your personal visit? Unless there’s more to it…”
Death Apostle nodded and replied, “You’re right. If that were all, I wouldn’t have come. However, I found out that there’s another legend about this building that you know more about, so I’ll let you take over.” With that, Death Apostle handed the conversation over to his assistant.
The man pondered for a moment before speaking, “Actually, there are many versions of this legend, but they all point to a poem inscribed inside the building. It is said that whoever can decipher this poem will gain wealth and power, and some believe that solving it can cure ailments and dispel misfortunes… However, through my investigation, I found that most of these claims are just rumors; no one has actually seen this poem. Even if there are photos, most of them are fakes…”
“Have you ever tried to go inside?” I asked. He shook his head, “No way in; almost all the entrances are sealed off, and there are security guards patrolling the area. There’s simply no way…”
At that moment, a waiter approached with water and overheard our conversation. He casually remarked, “You’re talking about the Moutai Building, right?”
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