Right, this Master Zhang sounded like a right Big Cheese, the kind of bloke who’d make even a hungry ghoul think twice. But fear? Nah, bosses were their bread and butter. If experience had taught them anything, it was that the bigger they came, the harder they… well, you get the picture.

    Master Zhang was a legend in town. While most fortune-tellers in those cheesy dramas got called “half-immortals,” this guy was straight-up “Immortal.” That told you everything you needed to know. Finding him was a piece of cake; everyone knew where he hung out.

    (半仙 [bànxiān; half-immortal]: Refers to a seer or mystic, not fully divine but possessing some supernatural powers. Used colloquially to describe fortune tellers or shamans.)

    Turned out, “Immortal” Zhang hung his hat at a temple on the east side of town, acting as head honcho.

    Finding the place was one thing, but the sight that greeted them nearly made their jaws hit the floor. The gaff was absolutely rammed. People everywhere, inside and out, like a sale on discount ectoplasm.

    One minute you’re strolling through deserted streets, the next you’re wading through a sea of desperate souls. Inside, devotees were practically worshipping the floorboards, while outside, a queue snaked around the block. Talk about a captive audience.

    The nine of them rocked up to this scene, but getting inside was another story.

    “Blimey, it’s packed,” Yu Xiao muttered, mopping her brow. She shot Tang Xing Yin a sideways glance. “How come every Tom, Dick, and Harry in this instance seems to be here, but your Taoist temple looks like a ghost town?”

    (门可罗雀 [mén kě luó què; the door is so empty that sparrows can be caught]: A Chinese idiom meaning a place is deserted or has little traffic, often used to describe businesses with few customers.)

    Tang Xing Yin, arms crossed tighter than a miser’s purse strings, simply scowled.

    The temple itself was a bit of an odd duck. The whole town was like stepping back in time, all ancient Chinese architecture, yet here was this… Gothic monstrosity.

    Well, not entirely Gothic. This mishmash of a building sported angelic and demonic carvings alongside what looked like Dunhuang celestial beings.

    (敦煌飞天 [Dūnhuáng fēitiān; Dunhuang flying deities]: Carvings inspired by the frescoes in the Dunhuang Caves, depicting celestial beings with flowing garments and dynamic poses, integral to Buddhist art.)

    And if that wasn’t bizarre enough, the blokes at the entrance were dressed like they were heading to a funeral, while inside, the punters were burning enough incense to choke a dragon. The whole place was one big, smoky haze.

    (香客 [xiāngkè; incense-bearer]: Worshippers who burn incense, a traditional practice in Chinese temples to show reverence and seek blessings.)

    “Talk about an identity crisis,” Zhao Lan quipped. “So, we just waltzing in then?”

    “What’s the alternative?” Yu Qing Lang retorted. “We’re hardly going to use the side door, are we?”

    “Fair point,” Yu Xiao grinned. “Let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”

    They joined the throng, incense sticks waving precariously, and finally squeezed their way to the entrance. Just then, a hand shot out, barring their way like a bouncer at a nightclub.

    Blocking their way stood a priest, black robes billowing dramatically. Despite looking barely old enough to shave, he had a cold expression that could rival the frigidness of a penguin’s backside.

    “State your business,” he demanded, sweeping his eyes over the group with chilling indifference. It was the kind of look one would give to ants underfoot – brief, disgusted, and vaguely irritated.

    “We’re here to see Master Zhang,” Yu Xiao announced.

    The news seemed to have no effect on him. “Only the most devout believers are granted an audience with the Immortal.”

    Yu Xiao couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “And how does one prove their devotion?”

    The priest pointed to a conspicuously overflowing donation box.

    Well, that explained it. Yu Xiao had never seen such an obvious money grab in all her time in the instances. She glanced at her companions, who had a mix of amusement and disbelief written on their faces.

    “We’re a bit short on cash right now,” she said. “Is there any chance we could have a quick word with the Immortal anyway?”

    The priest repeated, as if reciting a memorised script, “Only the most devout believers are granted an audience with the Immortal.”

    “Right, that’s it!” Wang Dong Dong suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “This guy speaks fluent brick wall. Plan B, everyone! I’ll distract him, and you all go find this Zhang character.”

    Let’s just say this group wasn’t exactly strict rule followers. Wang Dong Dong’s suggestion was met with unanimous approval. In a split second, his fist connected solidly with the priest’s jaw, and chaos erupted. While pandemonium reigned, the rest of the group seized the opportunity and slipped into the temple.

    The interior of the temple was like a sauna filled with incense. Row upon row of people knelt in fervent prayer, seemingly oblivious to the commotion outside. They whispered silent supplications, their eyes fixed on something at the far end of the room.

    Yu Xiao followed their gaze and gasped. Towering above them was a colossal statue, portraying a human figure so twisted and distorted that it could only be described as nightmare fuel. The expression etched on its face was one of pure agony.

    Yu Xiao shuddered.

    Was this their deity?

    A circle of clerics encircled a group of worshippers who knelt before them, closely monitoring their display of devotion. The sudden arrival of eight unexpected guests did not escape notice. Suspicion filled the air as the clerics quickly moved to surround them.

    “We seek an audience with Master Zhang,” Zhou Xiao Zhen declared.

    “Only the truly devout are deemed worthy of meeting the Master,” intoned the head cleric, a gaunt man in his forties who looked like he hadn’t encountered a decent meal in years. His face was set in an expression of pious severity, eyes as cold and lifeless as a dead fish, staring straight through them.

    “What exactly defines ‘truly devout’?” Zhao Lan inquired, a hint of amusement in her voice. Sёar?h the ηovelFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    “Kneel,” the thin man instructed, his tone sharp and rehearsed. “Offer your prayers. Our Lord will discern the sincerity of your faith.”

    Yu Xiao stifled a sigh. Sincerity wasn’t exactly their strong suit. She wasn’t even sure they remembered how to spell sincerity. Glancing past the gaunt cleric, she asked, “So, is Master Zhang in there, then?”

    A flicker of annoyance crossed the man’s face, but before he could respond, Yu Qing Lang smoothly interjected, “Why don’t you entertain our friend here? We’ll continue ahead.”

    Ignoring the spluttering protests from the clerics, they casually walked towards the back of the shrine.

    “This place reeks of a cult,” Zhou Xiao Zhen whispered, her eyes darting around nervously. “And those clerics? Completely mad, every last one of them.”

    “Well, obviously,” Yu Qing Lang retorted with a smirk. “What did you expect? Sane NPCs in a side-quest? Don’t be ridiculous.”

    A door at the rear of the shrine led to a corridor lined with rooms that resembled a combination of offices and monk cells. Flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the bare walls. A row of identical wooden doors stretched ahead, each one securely shut. No names, no numbers, no hints.

    “Do you think Master Zhang is behind one of these doors?” Yu Xiao pondered aloud.

    “Who knows?” Zhou Xiao Zhen shrugged, glancing around. “Unless he’s levitating in a corner, this seems to be our only option.”

    Before anyone could utter another word, Tang Xing Yin confidently stepped forward and pushed open the nearest door. The sound of ancient hinges giving way was overpowered by a brilliant white light that burst forth from within.

    “Whoa!” Yu Xiao instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes from the blinding light.

    As quickly as it had appeared, the light faded, leaving behind an unsettling silence. She cautiously lowered her hand and found herself in a room, completely alone. The others had vanished.

    Having experienced her fair share of odd occurrences, Yu Xiao didn’t panic. Instead, she calmly assessed her surroundings. The room was furnished in an old-fashioned style, with a bed, bookshelves lining one wall, and a writing desk cluttered with papers. A solitary feather quill protruded from an inkwell, as though someone had been abruptly interrupted while writing. Another door could be seen on the far side of the room.

    Before attempting to open the second door, she decided to explore the desk. The ink on the papers was still wet. Intrigued, she picked up one of them and read:

    【Smiley received three titles today, while I didn’t receive a single one! It’s so unfair. We all worked hard, yet she receives all the glory.】

    “…”

    The note lacked a signature, but there was only one person who referred to her as “Smiley” with such a mix of envy and resentment – Precious. Squinting at the handwriting, Yu Xiao tried to determine if it matched Precious’s. After a moment, she gave up. Clearly, the whole handwriting recognition thing only worked in TV dramas.

    Moreover, she was fairly certain that this note didn’t match Precious’s writing style. If her friend had ended up in a strange room, writing cryptic notes wouldn’t be her top priority. First, she would try to find an exit, and if that failed, she would probably start dismantling the furniture.

    And if she did decide to write something, it would be a detailed account of the situation, any clues she had discovered, and maybe a quick farewell message.

    Just as Yu Xiao was about to return the paper to its original position, she noticed another sheet hidden beneath it.

    【Yu Xiao said we’d split the points, but she never actually meant it, did she? If she wanted to keep them all for herself, she could have just said it. Nobody was forcing her to share.】

    (“lip service” (嘴上说说; Zuǐ shàng shuō shuō): [嘴上; Zuǐ shàng; mouth][说说; shuō shuō; to say]. This expression means to say something without intending to follow through.)

    Okay, now she was properly confused. What in the world was going on? Why were these notes even here?

    She was about to give up and try the other door when a faint noise caught her ear. It seemed to be coming from behind the bookcase.

    Sure enough, when she moved the bookcase aside, she discovered a hidden door. She gave it a good shove, but it wouldn’t budge. Luckily, it was ancient and made of wood. The panels had warped over time, leaving gaps wide enough to peek through.

    Yu Xiao pressed her eye to the crack.

    The room on the other side was almost identical to hers. Two figures were moving around, seemingly searching for something. She squinted. Zhao Lan and Zhou Xiao Zhen.

    Yu Xiao was about to bang on the door and put them out of their misery when Zhou Xiao Zhen’s voice drifted through the gap.

    “What do we do now? There’s no way out. Maybe we could try smashing the wall down?”

    “I don’t think that’s going to work,” Zhao Lan replied, shaking her head. “We already tried that. It’s like it’s made of reinforced concrete.”

    “So we’re stuck?” Zhou Xiao Zhen’s voice was laced with despair.

    “Don’t worry,” Zhao Lan said, trying to sound reassuring despite her own growing anxiety. “Even if we can’t get out, I’m sure Yu Xiao will find us.”

    The words were meant to be comforting, but Zhou Xiao Zhen’s expression darkened. “Oh, she’ll find us alright. She’s brilliant like that. Always knows the right people to call…”

    Zhao Lan, busy examining a window that refused to open, picked up on her friend’s strange tone. “What’s wrong?”

    “Nothing,” Zhou Xiao Zhen muttered darkly. “It’s just… Misty, you know how she’s close to getting enough points, right?”

    A beat of silence.

    “Yes, I know.”

    “And she always said we’d split them evenly…” Zhou Xiao Zhen’s voice was barely a whisper now. “But she’s almost there on her own…”

    “Don’t be silly,” Zhao Lan said firmly, “We made a pact to get out of here together. And Smiley’s one of the good ones. She wouldn’t…” Her voice trailed off.

    “Misty, why’d you stop?” Zhou Xiao Zhen sighed. “To be honest, I think I understand where she’s coming from. Maybe she did want to share at first. But remember the Time Hospital? Ye Tao said only two of us could leave. Don’t you think that shook her up a bit?”

    Silence fell over the room as both women bowed their heads, desperately searching for an escape route that didn’t involve power tools.

    Yu Xiao watched them for a moment longer, then quietly backed away from the door. The light spilling from their room was still visible. Turning, she walked over to the door on the far side of her own room and tried the handle.

    It swung open easily, revealing the same empty corridor.

    She glanced up and down, finding that all the other doors were still closed. The only open door was the one she had just come through. Frowning, she walked over to the next door and tried the handle.

    Locked. But she could hear voices from inside – Misty and Precious, talking amongst themselves. This had to be the room next to her old one, the one with the hidden door.

    So, they had all gone through different doors but ended up in completely separate rooms. Some rooms held one person, like hers. Others held more.

    What was the logic here? Were they being sorted by personality type? Level of attractiveness?

    Lost in thought, she shrugged off her backpack and unzipped it. As expected, the cat was gone.

    This whole thing had “illusion” written all over it. Too many things didn’t add up. For starters, she hadn’t even taken a step after Tang Xing Yin opened the door. How had she been transported?

    And why was her room the only one with an exit, while Misty and Precious were trapped?

    Plus, she had been in that room for a while now. Surely Tang Xing Yin and the others would have caught up by now? They weren’t that slow. Were they?

    Right, so this was definitely an illusion. No arguments there. The question was, how to break free?

    Yu Xiao considered her options. It was time to employ some classic illusion-busting techniques. First up: pain. A good dose of physical agony usually did the trick. She had heard that the inner thigh was particularly sensitive…

    She pinched a generous handful of flesh and twisted. Hard.

    “Yeeouch!” Tears sprang to her eyes. Rubbing the throbbing spot gingerly, she looked around. Nope, everything looked exactly the same.

    Pain was out. It was time for plan B.

    Illusions generally only messed with your senses, right? The actual environment shouldn’t change. If they had all been affected by the same illusion, then logically, the others had to be nearby.

    She started walking, hands outstretched, feeling her way along the wall. Nothing. After a while, a thought struck her. What if she had wandered away from her original spot after getting sucked into the illusion?

    So, what now?

    And why was Nightmare missing from her bag if they were all still in the same place, just… illusorily separated?

    Wait a minute. Nightmare! Why hadn’t she thought of that before? It didn’t matter if this was an illusion; Nightmare could slip into dreams as easily as she could slip into a comfy pair of slippers. If she fell asleep, she would see the cat in her dreams, right?

    With a newfound sense of purpose, Yu Xiao lay down on the floor and started to hum herself a lullaby.

    Falling asleep was practically an Olympic sport for Yu Xiao. She could doze off on a rollercoaster, during a zombie apocalypse, and probably even while being chased by a rabid squirrel. So naturally, lying on a cold, hard floor wasn’t going to pose much of a challenge. She closed her eyes, thought happy thoughts (mostly involving copious amounts of noodles), and promptly drifted off.

    The dream started out as a hazy jumble of half-formed images, but then a hand clamped around her wrist, yanking her out of the fog.

    She turned to see a very familiar face. “Nightmare!”

    “There you are!” Nightmare said, his grip surprisingly strong. “I woke up in some creepy trap, and you were gone!”

    “I’m stuck in this weird illusion,” she explained, “I can’t seem to wake up. I figured you’d be in dreamland, so here I am. Any chance you know how to get out of this mess?”

    “Leave it to me,” Nightmare said, placing his palm over her eyes. “Just close your eyes.”

    She obeyed. As darkness descended, she felt a strange sensation, like she was plummeting from a great height.

    Her heart pounding, she opened her eyes. Her vision swam as she focused on the blurry image of a moving ceiling. She was lying flat on her back, being carried… somewhere. Footsteps echoed around her, but she couldn’t see who was carrying her.