Mysterious Revival

The dangers of the condolence day far exceeded imagination.

The ghosts ignored certain restrictions of the ancient mansion and surged directly inside. If the red coffin that was placed in the back hall hadn’t been moved to the main hall in time, there might not even be any standing space left.

The corpse of the old man inside the red coffin underwent an unexpected and terrifying change. The moment the coffin lid was opened, the corpse actually sat up straight. Just days ago, the old man’s corpse had shown no signs of activity at all.

Additionally,

the old man’s face, once serene even with its wrinkles, now appeared stern and vicious.

This subtle change in expression on a deceased face carried an indescribable creepiness.

But the good news was that the appearance of the old man’s corpse maintained the balance of the condolence day.

The ghosts halted their movements.

The supernatural forces also ceased their invasion of the ancient mansion.

The group, wearing tattered and foul-smelling mourning clothes, barely managed to preserve their lives, avoiding death by ghostly attack.

The space left in the back hall was less than five meters. The vengeful spirits ahead were so close they could be seen clearly with the naked eye.

Though they did not move,

their oppressive presence was enough to make breathing feel impossible.

“The situation has improved.”

“The old man in the coffin and the vengeful spirits invading the main hall have struck a balance, causing most of the ghosts to stop moving.”

“But does this really mean we’re safe?”

Fan Xing, Li Yang, and Da Qiang all had the same doubts running through their minds. None of them dared to speak. Earlier, Da Qiang had merely said a single sentence and caught the attention of a ghost. If not for the protection of the mourning clothes, he would already be dead.

But Yang Jian’s judgment was accurate.

The mourning clothes were not omnipotent.

They could only block the perception of vengeful spirits and prevent triggering their kill patterns. However, if the main hall became so crowded that there was no space to stand, the mourning clothes would most likely fail as well.

Therefore, the key to survival today rested with the old man’s corpse in the red coffin and the mourning clothes.

Both were indispensable.

“The dice have stopped rolling. The ghost hasn’t continued gambling with me. The danger is temporarily suppressed.”

The Eagle, sitting in a corner, noticed the black die on the ground had stopped moving. He knew that Yang Jian’s precise actions had reestablished balance within the ancient mansion.

Even the ghost had ceased its dice game, indicating the surrounding area was currently safe.

If danger were present, the die would undoubtedly still be rolling.

Meanwhile,

Yang Xiaohua’s corpse remained suspended mid-air by a red balloon, neither floating away nor falling. The special yellow paper was still firmly stuck to her face.

Zhou Deng, wearing the Human Skin Mask and masquerading as a ghost, stood in a vacant corner at the back.

He wasn’t pretending to be dead and could move freely.

Yet, at this moment, he didn’t dare act recklessly or approach the surging ghosts. Earlier, he had suffered at their hands, being recognized by a ghost and nearly dying in the old forest. Now, he chose to stay low-key.

“I didn’t see it wrong. Just now, when all the ghosts stopped moving, there was a red figure among them—fleeting, but distinct. That ghost is special; it can still move under these circumstances.”

Yang Jian didn’t waste time celebrating or feeling relieved at this point.

His eyes scanned the surroundings and locked onto a particularly unusual figure among the “crowd.”

But the moment he tried to look closely, the figure vanished.

It seemed the eerie red figure deliberately evaded Yang Jian’s search, using the presence of the dense, peculiar crowd to conceal itself.

Although his Ghost Eyes were no longer suppressed by the ancient mansion, the ghost still blocked their vision, preventing him from seeing through its body to what lay behind it.

“The dangers of this ancient mansion are even more complicated than I anticipated. Even though I managed to achieve a temporary balance, this balance will eventually be broken,” Yang Jian thought, glancing again at the eerie old man sitting upright in the coffin.

The old man’s aged face was twisted with a heinous expression, grim and menacing, as if he were about to awaken as a vengeful spirit.

But in the end, the old man did not fully awaken.

After all, it was only the fourth day; there were still three days left until the seventh.

“Is it safe now?” Suddenly, Zhou Deng walked over and spoke.

His voice was dull and heavy, layered with an eerie undertone, as if two people were speaking in unison—the other voice chilling enough to make the hair on one’s skin stand up.

He dared to speak?

Da Qiang looked at him, astonished. Zhou Deng’s boldness was borderline outrageous—who gave him the courage to act this way?

However, Zhou Deng’s words didn’t seem to trigger anything unusual.

Yang Jian glanced at him and responded, “Not yet. Most of the ghosts have stopped moving, but a few are still active. And any vengeful spirit capable of moving in this environment could be unimaginably terrifying. You should know this by now.”

Zhou Deng nodded, “Any ghost unaffected in this situation must be of an extremely high Terror Level. Being targeted by such a ghost almost guarantees death.”

“Aren’t you afraid of your ghost mask reviving after using it so often?” Yang Jian asked, his Ghost Eyes scanning the surroundings without letting his guard down.

Zhou Deng touched his face, “You mean this mask? Lucky find. I picked it up under a seat on the supernatural bus. It seems the previous user left it behind after dying. Because it’s been sitting on the bus for a while, the Human Skin Mask has entered a ‘dormant’ state. Although it could awaken, I believe I can still use it for some time.”

“Is that so?” Yang Jian frowned.

He hadn’t expected Zhou Deng to have such an encounter. The Human Skin Mask, originally left on the supernatural bus by a previous ghost wielder, had entered a dormant state from being on the bus too long.

“What else did you expect? Ghost wielders are both cursed and lucky. Without a bit of luck, people like us wouldn’t last very long,” Zhou Deng said nonchalantly.

“That’s true. Survival often comes down to luck—it’s irreplicable,” Yang Jian admitted.

Yang Jian’s own survival had often hinged on fortune: awakening after hanging himself, surviving through his spiritual tablet, and reviving from within the coffin. Each instance was unique, and another person walking the same path might not survive.

Zhou Deng continued, “This balance won’t last long. It’s still just the beginning of the fourth day. Do you have any plans? If not, I’ll keep pretending to be dead.”

“Just don’t stir up trouble. I need you for something,” Yang Jian said.

“We’re colleagues. Just say the word, Captain,” Zhou Deng replied.

Yang Jian glanced at him and said, “Stand here and monitor the situation. Notify me if anything unusual happens. I have a personal matter to deal with.”

“Didn’t you just tell me not to act recklessly?” Zhou Deng gave him a strange look.

Yang Jian said, “I’m not like you—I act with caution. You’re just obsessed with collecting supernatural objects. I think you’ve grown addicted to picking up items like that Human Skin Mask. But these objects are all heavily cursed, practically equivalent to ghosts. Hoarding too many of them is pointless and will only get you killed.”

“If I die, remember to burn some incense for me,” Zhou Deng said with a carefree laugh.

It seemed he had long since cast aside his fear of death and acted without the slightest hesitation.

“I will,” Yang Jian said before walking over to Li Yang. “I need the doll.”

Previously, he had lent it to Li Yang to ensure his survival during an attempt to retrieve the white lantern. Now, Yang Jian needed it more urgently.

“Be cautious, Captain. Don’t forget the critical retreat point,” Li Yang whispered.

Yang Jian nodded, taking the old doll from him.

He immediately began moving.

Armed with the cracked long spear, he attempted to exit the main hall by hugging the left wall.

The path ahead, however, was blocked by countless eerie figures, leaving no space for passage. But this presented no real obstacle for Yang Jian.

He stepped onto the wall.

His body moved along the wall in a manner that defied common sense.

Yang Jian was now the Ghost Shadow; his body was merely a vessel for his supernatural powers. In theory, he could survive even by transferring his consciousness to another body, though he would lose abilities like the Ghost Hand and Ghost Eyes.

He didn’t want that.

It would be a form of weakening himself, offering no real benefit.

“It’s time to open that room. While the supernatural forces are suppressed, this is the perfect opportunity,” Yang Jian thought to himself.

Even if the room contained danger, the old man in the coffin would suppress it. This served as a layer of protection for him.

Additionally, if the room truly harbored a ghost, the current situation didn’t warrant introducing another one.

The group watched as Yang Jian walked along the wall, departing. Confusion and unease spread among them.

He dared to act now?

His approach was completely different from his earlier cautious tactics, now uncharacteristically bold.

Though the main hall was densely packed with ghosts, the hallway was eerily empty. A heavy darkness blanketed the area, but no figures lingered.

Yang Jian leaped off the wall, landing in front of a locked wooden door.

The door was tightly shut, with several bullet holes from Zhou Deng’s earlier gunfire. Blood seeped from the holes, staining half the door in a grotesque red.

“The Ghost Cabinet’s trade mission should be completed here. All it required of me was to unlock this door—no additional requests,” Yang Jian recalled the details of the trade.

After verifying this, he took out an old bronze key.

The key’s design was ancient, reminiscent of styles from the Republic of China Period—not a modern artifact.

Yang Jian acted decisively, inserting the key into the door’s bronze lock.

As expected,

the lock and key were a match. With a soft click, the lock was opened.

The Ghost Cabinet’s trade was complete.

Yang Jian paused momentarily, meticulously observing his surroundings. Everything appeared normal—unlocking the bronze lock hadn’t triggered any horrifying events.

He exhaled slightly in relief.

Removing the bronze lock, he stored it away.

He reasoned the bronze lock could itself be a supernatural object. Why else would such a lock be used to secure a regular wooden door in this environment?

Without the bronze lock,

*Creak!*

The wooden door emitted a scraping noise as it slowly cracked open.

Yang Jian’s eyelid twitched, sensing something abnormal.

From within the ajar door, a red glow emanated, bathing the interior in a scarlet hue that seemed to lead into another world.

*A Ghost Domain?* Yang Jian thought immediately.

The dim red light spilled out from the room, casting a crimson shade across the gloomy hallway.

“Should I turn back and avoid unnecessary risks, or step inside and take a chance?” Yang Jian pondered calmly, weighing his decision.

He had concerns.

He feared opening this room might disrupt the fragile balance in the ancient mansion on the fourth day.

Yet the Ghost Cabinet’s trade intrigued him greatly.

Why was unlocking this particular room necessary?

What was meant to be released from here?

And what exactly was hiding inside?

All these unresolved questions gnawed at Yang Jian, pushing him to uncover the truth of the supernatural—to understand the past, to seek answers, and, above all, to find a way to survive.

“If I leave now, I may never get the chance to return,” he concluded.

Yang Jian’s deliberation was brief.

This was his defining trait: though often indecisive, he resolved quickly and rarely second-guessed his decisions—whether right or wrong, he would see them through to the end.

Without hesitation,

he pushed open the wooden door.

A red room appeared before his eyes.

The walls were painted a vivid crimson, with red wooden flooring below. The ceiling was adorned with red cloth strips, and red lanterns hung from above.

It resembled a bridal chamber, seemingly decorated for a wedding celebration.

“No bed…” Yang Jian’s gaze fixed on the center of the room.

Originally, a red canopy bed should have occupied that space, but now it was completely empty, as if someone had moved it away.

In that moment, he recalled the supernatural events of Room 301.

One of the chambers in Room 301 had housed a crimson canopy bed, starkly incongruous with its surroundings.

He hadn’t dared to touch the bed at the time because an old man lay upon it—the owner of Room 301, deceased but teetering on the brink of ghostly resurrection. Yang Jian had narrowly escaped death during the Room 301 incident, surviving only through a reboot.

“Was that bed also taken from this place?”

Yang Jian speculated, gathering his courage to proceed further and inspect the room.

He soon noticed that this room was missing more than just the bed. There was another conspicuously empty space, perfectly sized to accommodate the Ghost Cabinet.

“The Ghost Cabinet was also taken from this room. Someone must have infiltrated the ancient mansion and removed it,” Yang Jian thought, his expression darkening.

Finally, he understood why both the red Ghost Cabinet and the red canopy bed shared the same color.

They originated from the same place.

“And it doesn’t stop there. So many other items are missing too,” Yang Jian observed.

He noticed an empty red clothes rack, as if a garment had been taken.

He spotted a dressing table missing several makeup tools, including a mirror.

He saw a red table without a matching bench, as if a red stool had also been removed.

…

Everywhere he looked, the room seemed incomplete, riddled with gaps where objects had been removed.

“All these red supernatural objects must have come from here. Without proper oversight, they were taken bit by bit, eventually scattering outside,” Yang Jian concluded.

Suddenly, his expression sharpened, and his entire body grew tense.

A tall, shadowy figure appeared at his feet, extending inwards from the doorway.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com