Mysterious Revival

The premature mourning announcement on the third day led everyone in the ancient mansion to immediately face unprecedented peril.

Originally, based on the situation during the vigil on the second day, Yang Jian and the others only needed to stay near the red coffin in the rear hall to remain safe. However, Fan Xing and the others first provoked a certain vengeful ghost’s curse, causing the ghosts in the mansion to discover the group hiding in the rear hall.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Zhou Deng, holding the white lantern, took a stroll outside and performed the mourning announcement for the third day ahead of time.

This act attracted the ghosts outside into the mansion.

Now, ghosts threatened both inside and outside the mansion.

With no escape, they had no choice but to fight desperately against the ghosts.

Yang Jian guarded the red coffin, preventing any ghost from approaching. His greatest worry was that the elderly person inside might be influenced by other ghosts at this critical moment, leading to an early awakening and disrupting the arrival of the seventh day.

Wang Feng and other ghost handlers guarded the back door.

By relying on a dice game, they forcibly delayed the intrusion of ghosts into the mansion.

“The key to breaking the deadlock lies with Li Yang. Only when Li Yang returns successfully can the situation here be turned around,” Yang Jian thought, fully aware of what needed to happen next.

The group had to withstand the pressure of the ghosts’ assault until the critical moment arrived.

If they failed.

Yang Jian would have to consider abandoning everyone, abandoning the message delivery, abandoning the mansion, and surviving alone…

He possessed the ability to live on and certainly wouldn’t accompany everyone to the grave.

Meanwhile.

Li Yang walked steadily as he kept an eye on the burning speed of the red Ghost Candle in his hand. His journey so far was relatively smooth; he passed the courtyard and arrived behind the main gate.

He attempted to open the wooden gate.

But found it stuck, as if wedged shut, making it impossible to open easily.

The Ghost Candle burned ever faster.

With less than half of the candle left, at this rate of consumption, it wouldn’t last even a minute.

Clenching his teeth, Li Yang shoved the Ghost Candle into the gap between the doors.

The flame of the Ghost Candle suddenly surged, and the sound of rapid footsteps came from outside, one following another. These footsteps scattered quickly.

Creaaak!

The old, decayed wooden door opened at that moment.

The Ghost Candle wavered, leaving only a small remaining length.

“The cost of using the Ghost Candle to drive away ghosts is too high; it can’t sustain such consumption,” Li Yang muttered through clenched teeth as he hurriedly placed the Ghost Candle some distance away to secure the area around the door.

Then he raised his head to look at the white lantern hanging above the door.

A cold wind blew.

The pale, faded lantern swayed and emitted a dim light.

Glancing back, Li Yang saw several eerie shadows flicker near the candlelight, appearing and disappearing intermittently, their precise positions untraceable.

Ghosts roamed just outside the door.

Judging from this post-mourning outcome, ghosts weren’t just at the back door but also the front; it seemed the entire mansion’s surroundings were shrouded in threats.

Taking advantage of what little time remained before the Ghost Candle burned out, Li Yang quickly climbed the main gate and took down the white lantern.

All went relatively smoothly.

There was danger, but he avoided disaster.

As soon as the lantern came into his possession, the Ghost Candle flickered out completely.

There were too many ghosts nearby for the faint candlelight to sustain even a moment longer; it burned through entirely, leaving not even a trace of wax.

Without that sinister, eerie flame.

The strange shadows illuminated by the Ghost Candle instantly vanished.

The ghosts hadn’t left, still lingering nearby.

But without the Ghost Candle’s influence, Li Yang could no longer see them.

He felt an overwhelming chill in the air.

Even his skin tingled with cold sensations, as if the ghosts had gathered around him, ready to consume him.

Although nothing was visible, Li Yang could still smell the stench of decaying corpses and the earthy, muddy scent.

“The ghosts aren’t attacking me.” Li Yang gripped the white lantern tightly.

The lantern’s faint, pale light illuminated the surrounding area, keeping him from losing his sense of direction.

Beyond this illuminated zone, the rest of the environment was shrouded in oppressive darkness.

“Get back quickly.”

Li Yang dared not waste a single moment; any hesitation here could spell the loss of more lives back in the rear hall.

Carrying the lantern, he hurried along the mansion’s side, aiming to circle back to the rear hall.

But as soon as he moved, his face froze.

Behind him, a chain of footsteps sounded, seemingly the lurking ghosts now trailing him.

Li Yang sped up his pace, and so did the footsteps behind him.

Turning to look.

There was nothing behind him, only desolation and darkness.

“Ghosts won’t kill the one performing the mourning announcement, so surviving the third day hinges on this… Under normal circumstances, everyone should leave the mansion on the third day, carrying lanterns and wandering the area to keep the ghosts occupied until the mourning announcement concludes. Now I understand,” Li Yang thought to himself.

Li Yang wasn’t foolish; he was a survivor of previous supernatural events.

Without a certain level of cunning, he would’ve perished long ago during the Ghost Painting incident and never become a ghost handler or lived to this day.

“So, my task isn’t to return to the rear hall with the lantern but to lure away the ghosts surrounding the mansion, allowing the captain to focus on dealing with the ghosts inside.”

“The captain’s judgment was correct; the second day’s vigil and the third day’s mourning announcement must not overlap. Now, I have to find a way to correct this.”

Once Li Yang sorted through his thoughts, he quickened his pace.

He wouldn’t halt his actions, no matter what eerie phenomena occurred behind or around him.

Even though he moved swiftly.

For the group in the rear hall, surviving even one minute—let alone several hours—required an immense price.

A red dice rolled several times across the floor before finally coming to a halt.

The result was: 2.

Opposite it, a black dice showed the number: 5.

The ghost’s roll yielded 5, while Wang Feng’s roll resulted in 2.

The game had reached its fifth round, but Wang Feng’s luck had run out. His body stiffened, cold sweat dripping, his gaze fixating on his roll as if he was dazed, disbelief written across his face.

“I… I lost…” Wang Feng’s lips trembled.

Soon after, his body rapidly turned cold, his complexion drained of color, and the light in his eyes extinguished, like a flickering flame snuffed out mercilessly by the brutal world.

Wang Feng froze, motionless, utterly lifeless.

Having lost the gamble, he perished inside this nameless, terrifying mansion.

“He lost, huh?” The Eagle glanced at his fallen comrade with a profound sense of sorrow.

From the moment Wang Feng endured the curse of the haunted letters and became a messenger, he struggled to survive, delivering over a dozen eerie letters, facing countless dangers. Even invading the fourth floor’s ghosts failed to end him. Yet now, he succumbed at this final hurdle.

Failed to cross the fifth floor of the postal building, stopped in his tracks.

At that moment, a cold air began to infiltrate the mansion from outside the rear door.

Wang Feng had lost, and now the ghosts were about to enter.

“I’ll gamble with the ghost.”

At this moment, a ghost handler gritted his teeth, pushed Wang Feng’s corpse aside, and took the seat. He quickly grabbed the red dice and threw it.

Seizing the moment before the ghost entered.

This man forcibly resumed the gamble, continuing what Wang Feng had started.

The red dice rolled and eventually settled, producing an unimaginable result: 6.

The highest number had appeared.

“Haha.”

The ghost handler laughed, his tension evident as his face twitched unnaturally.

The game was on.

The cold air drew back, retreating from the mansion.

The ghost was compelled to participate in the game, bound by its rules.

Thus, regardless of whether the ghost won against Wang Feng, the game would persist as long as someone resumed it—until Yang Jian’s team was entirely wiped out.

Soon.

The black dice rolled, and the ghost’s result was: 5.

Another 5.

Previously, Wang Feng had lost to this number, but the ghost handler’s roll had already produced a 6.

The first round was a win.

The cold air withdrew further, departing from the rear entrance.

“The ghost… has dispersed.” The ghost handler exhaled deeply, flashing a cracked smile.

But just as this smile appeared, it quickly stiffened.

An old pair of black cloth shoes shuffled closer, stopping at the threshold of the rear hall.

Soon.

The black dice—used by the ghost—rolled again.

“Another ghost. The previous one left, beaten by Wang Feng. But in this short time, yet another has come?” The ghost handler’s chest tightened sharply.

Any ghost unable to be repelled by the supernatural game was undoubtedly highly dangerous.

The second ghost participating in the game appeared to be unlucky.

The result: 2.

“Looks like I’ll survive longer than you did.” The ghost handler shot a glance at Wang Feng’s corpse.

At this moment, Fan Xing had already dragged Wang Feng’s body out the rear entrance, treating it like trash. It quickly disappeared from sight, rolling down a slope into the woods behind.

The messenger’s corpse couldn’t remain inside the mansion.

If something possessed the body, it would no longer be a corpse but a ghost.

Moreover, no one could guarantee that Wang Feng himself wasn’t a ghost handler.

Thus, no one objected to Fan Xing’s actions, remaining silent.

Despite Wang Feng’s significant efforts and sacrifices, his death rendered everything meaningless; the survivors had to continue struggling to live without being affected by his corpse.

The new ghost handler learning from Wang Feng’s approach held the red dice in his hand for precisely ten seconds.

Once the ten seconds passed.

Without greed for further delay, he immediately threw the red dice.

The ghost’s result was 2.

The odds of winning were high.

But fate seemed to mock him, as the red dice finally stopped rolling to reveal a despair-inducing number: 1.

The result: 1.

Smaller than the ghost’s 2.

“How could this happen? How could this happen? How could it be 1…”

The man instantly spiraled into madness, his rage resembling that of a gambler who had bet everything and lost. His eyes burned red, bloodshot from his fury and anguish.

“Luck works like this. You could roll a 6 or a 1; you might win a round, but the ghost never loses. The greatest injustice isn’t in the game itself but in the identity of the players—humans can never truly outwit ghosts, much like gamblers can never win against the house,” The Eagle remarked grimly.

The ghost handler continued to shout and vent his frustration.

But it was futile.

Soon.

He staggered and collapsed onto the floor.

His face turned ice-cold, his mouth gaping open, his eyes lifeless and dull; his life extinguished.

He had been erased by the supernatural forces tied to the cursed ghost dice.

Even as a ghost handler, he was powerless against the dice’s dreadful curse.

Yet his death left no choice—the game had to be resumed by someone.

The old black cloth shoes now stepped closer to entering the rear hall.

According to Yang Jian’s rules:

When a ghost handler died, a messenger had to take over.

Now, only three messengers remained.

The Eagle, Da Qiang, and Yang Xiaohua.

Da Qiang’s eyes flickered, as if unwilling to involve himself so soon, while Yang Xiaohua, an ordinary person holding the red balloon, was yet to take her turn.

Thus, The Eagle stepped up without hesitation, picking up the black dice from the floor and rolling it.

The game continued.

The old black cloth shoes paused once more.

As before, since The Eagle had initiated the game, the ghost was bound by its rules and dragged back into the ongoing dice throw.

“Is Li Yang still not back? Three are dead already. At this rate, we’re destined for annihilation,” Fan Xing said, his mood growing increasingly agitated as he took in the dismal situation.

Everyone around him was dying one after the other.

Not from direct ghost attacks but sacrifices made to delay the ghosts’ assaults.

The most draining aspect was that their efforts against the ghosts showed no signs of hope.

This was despite Yang Jian holding his ground, single-handedly resisting all ghosts advancing from the main hall without letting a single entity through.

Yet even so, it was futile.

As the pressures of ghostly invasions remained untamed, extinction seemed inevitable.

Looking back, Fan Xing cursed his own power struggle; had he obediently clung to Yang Jian’s leadership and not sought to assert control, perhaps they could have survived through the seventh day.

Then there was that damned Zhou Deng.

If everyone had followed Yang Jian’s orders from the start, this ordeal might have ended safely.

“Rustle… rustle…”

From the shadowy main hall, the persistent sound of the radio crackled once more.

The signal quickly connected as eerie words articulated from its static: “Hey… hehehe… you’re all about to die… so close now… rustle~!”

Yang Jian’s expression darkened.

His grip tightened on the Coffin Nail, his impulse tempting him to pin the thing down. Yet reason warned him that it wasn’t the time to use the Coffin Nail.

If things spiraled entirely out of control and became uncontainable, he would save the Coffin Nail for the entity inside the coffin.

At the very least, he needed to eliminate the most dangerous force before leaving the rest to fate.

Yang Xiaohua trembled uncontrollably, struggling even to breathe as her fear took hold.

While she had anticipated the delivery mission to be challenging, she hadn’t expected it to reach such terrifying extremes.

Her prolonged state of tension made her limbs feel stiff, almost unresponsive, forcing her to attempt small movements lest she found herself immobilized in case of imminent danger.

Yang Xiaohua took a few steps back.

But the instant after.

Her expression changed drastically.

As she retreated, her foot slipped, and she stumbled backward uncontrollably.

It felt as though a deep abyss had opened behind her.

“Ah!”

Yang Xiaohua let out a piercing scream.

Everyone nearby turned their gazes simultaneously.

Their eyes widened in horror.

Behind Yang Xiaohua, a crack had inexplicably appeared in the wall.

It resembled a fissure, resembling a bottomless pit threatening to swallow her whole.

Yang Jian, whose vigilance had been on high alert for unexpected accidents, sprang into action as Yang Xiaohua fell.

Several Ghost Hands materialized on Yang Xiaohua, invading her body.

In the next instant.

The red balloon in Yang Xiaohua’s hand wrapped tightly around her arm, causing her entire body to rapidly float upward.

This was because, at this moment, her body contained ghostly entities and supernatural powers, activating the red balloon’s effect.

“Even the rear hall’s walls are being invaded by supernatural forces now?” Yang Jian murmured.

He remained steady, using minimal intervention to achieve optimal results.

It was still too early to resort to desperate measures—the toughest battles were yet to come.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com