Chapter Forty-Nine: The Calamity of the Seventh Night (Part Five)

Ye Liangchen muttered a few complaints, utterly unwilling to continue strolling through the courtyard. Yet as he gazed at those eerie vermilion houses, an ominous chill swept through him, and he felt the urge to retreat.

But then another thought struck him: “Who am I? I am Ye Liangchen! How can I be scared? I am destined to save the world!”

A sudden surge of confidence seemed to fill his body. His eyes blazed, and with his head held high and chest out, he strode into the first house.

This house’s door matched the building’s deep red hue. The windows and door were carved with exquisite craftsmanship, the wood was lavish—clearly the home of the wealthy. On either side hung a pair of red paper scrolls, perhaps couplets, but the ink had faded with age, the words barely distinguishable.

Ye Liangchen stepped inside. It appeared to be a woman’s boudoir; layered veils hung everywhere, and behind the pink gauze, a woman seemed to be present.

The moment he saw someone inside, Ye Liangchen was mortified and was about to withdraw, when suddenly a gentle voice floated from behind the veil, “Since you are here, you are a guest. Why not come in and share a moment with me?”

“Ah? Are you inviting me?” Ye Liangchen paused, pointing at himself in confusion.

“There is no one else here but you, sir. If I am inviting someone, it must be you—not a ghost, surely?” The woman spoke again, her voice soft and sweet. It warmed Ye Liangchen’s heart, and he felt himself falling under its spell.

Ye Liangchen was secretly delighted. “With such a lovely voice, how could her appearance be lacking? It seems my luck has turned today—a beauty inviting me to her chamber! Even if it’s just a room, it proves my charm, ha ha ha!”

“Thank you for your kindness, miss. I shall gladly accept your invitation.” Ye Liangchen replied, brimming with joy.

“Please, sir, come in.” The woman rose and walked to the tea table, pouring a cup of tea and waiting quietly for Ye Liangchen.

Seeing her so graceful, Ye Liangchen grew even more pleased. He lightly lifted the veil and stepped into the fragrant chamber.

He found a young woman seated at the tea table, seemingly awaiting his arrival.

“Please, sir, taste my tea,” she said with a gentle smile, extending her hand invitingly.

At that moment, Ye Liangchen was utterly stunned. From the first glance, he knew this was his goddess.

Her long hair fell naturally, unadorned, making her appear even more ethereal and pure. Her smile was like blossoming flowers, captivating his eyes and soul. The pink dress she wore radiated gentleness and beauty.

To Ye Liangchen, she was like a celestial maiden descended to earth, flawless in every way.

“Sir, are you besotted?” The woman’s soft voice pulled Ye Liangchen back to reality.

Ye Liangchen awkwardly scratched his head, no longer arrogant but rather bashful. He spoke, “May I be so fortunate as to learn your name, miss?”

“My name? I have many names. Why don’t we chat about it after tea?” She giggled, casting him a flirtatious glance.

“In that case, let me drink first to show my respect.” Ye Liangchen’s face flushed red, and he downed the tea in one gulp.

“Now, miss, would you tell me your name?” he asked impatiently.

“My name, this skin’s name, is Zhang Yingying,” she replied with a mischievous smile.

“Such a beautiful name, Zhang Yingying, Yingying…” Ye Liangchen murmured, utterly entranced.

Suddenly, realization dawned on him. He stared at the woman in terror, his voice trembling, “You—you said, this skin!?”

“Only now do you realize? Too late. Men really are foolish,” the woman covered her mouth, laughing so hard that tears nearly streamed from her eyes as she watched Ye Liangchen’s horror.

“Monster! I’ll kill you!” Humiliated and enraged, Ye Liangchen launched a furious punch.

Unexpectedly, the woman was struck dead by his blow, blood oozing from her seven orifices.

Ye Liangchen stared in shock at her fallen body, clutching his head and screaming, “Ah!”

“Heh heh, you seem to like this skin. Shall I give it to you?” The woman’s voice sounded again. A hideous, blood-soaked creature appeared, holding a skin in its hand, its mangled mouth stretched into a grotesque smile.

“Monster, stay back! Stay back! Ah!” Ye Liangchen watched as the bloody creature multiplied, one becoming two, two becoming many, all grinning as if they would devour him. Terrified, he turned and fled.

“Hahaha, run, run!” The voice echoed in his ears, making his scalp crawl.

He ran, not knowing how long. It seemed he passed through veil after veil, endless layers, never able to escape.

Everything around him felt eerily familiar. Every decoration was identical. He kept running, not daring to pause.

Fatigue mounted, fear gnawed at him, and exhaustion began to overwhelm him even faster, deepening his terror.

Ye Liangchen seemed trapped in an endless loop, panting heavily, until he could run no further. He braced his hands against his knees, staring in horror as the monsters drew ever closer.

“Ah, no!” Ye Liangchen began running again, a desperate sprint for survival.

As he ran, the world spun around him, everything shuddering.

Suddenly, he found himself in a room of mirrors. Mirrors surrounded him, and the monsters had vanished.

Ye Liangchen collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. For some reason, his whole body began to itch.

The itching intensified with time, and he scratched madly to find relief.

“Ah, it itches!” Ye Liangchen clawed at himself in desperation.

“Haha, finally, finally it doesn’t itch.” He rasped, but then let out a scream of agony, “Ah!”

“Don’t come near me!” Ye Liangchen saw the mangled figure in the mirror and instinctively thought it was the monster.

Suddenly, realization struck. He looked down in horror at his own body—there was not a single patch of intact skin left.

“Ah!!!” Ye Liangchen howled, charging headlong at the mirror before him.

With a loud crash, a figure burst out of the vermilion house and plunged into a field of crimson flowers.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but in that final moment, Ye Liangchen thought he heard the flowers roaring.

The man in blue robes appeared again, gazing at the expanded flowerbed and smiling, “The back garden is becoming ever more beautiful!”

At that moment, the couplet on the door was no longer blurred, but written in two lines of blood:

“A lady’s chamber, improper to enter—only death awaits.”

“A lady’s fragrant tea, to drink lightly is not to survive.”