Chapter 34: Wine Jars
It was a small inn with two floors.
Though tiny, it had everything one would expect. Upon entering, one would realize that all the furnishings were designed in an ancient style. The rough wooden tables and chairs, the narrow wooden staircase leading to the second floor, and the wine jars stacked on both sides—all of it gave the illusion of stepping through time.
—That was, if one ignored the bloodstains scattered everywhere.
Xie Xizhao had already guessed that this show wouldn’t be simple, but the production team was clearly ruthless.
Horror elements + escape room + searching for treasure map fragments—there was no way this recording would take anything less than several hours.
He glanced around the surroundings before turning back to see Ai Qingyuan trembling behind him. Amused, he asked, “Scared already?”
To be fair, the setting was quite realistic.
But Ai Qingyuan had seemed pretty confident just a moment ago.
Ai Qingyuan: “…”
He looked at Xie Xizhao as if seeing a ghost. “You’re not scared?”
Xie Xizhao paused. “No.”
“It’s all fake.” He picked up the long-haired prop head and set “her” aside, his movements surprisingly gentle.
Then he added, “Besides, there are so many cameras around.”
Most importantly—
If he were afraid of ghosts, the first ghost he should fear would be himself.
Ai Qingyuan looked up at the ceiling.
He understood the logic, but he just couldn’t control himself.
He felt a little bitter. It was one thing to be outperformed by Xie Xizhao on stage, but now even in a situation like this, he was still no match. Thankfully, Yun Pan, standing nearby, didn’t seem to be doing much better—his face was deathly pale with fright. That made him feel slightly better.
He turned to Xie Xizhao and asked, “So, what now?”
Xie Xizhao hadn’t let them wander around aimlessly earlier. Instead, he had gone to the side to examine the power supply.
Somehow, he managed to turn on the central light in the main hall, bringing a bit of warmth to the previously eerie room.
Outside, the sky had already turned dark.
Without wasting words, Xie Xizhao said directly, “Two options.”
“First, we split up.” He stated simply, “This building has two floors and a backyard. Each of us picks a spot. If my guess is correct, there should be at least two pieces of the treasure map in this place.”
As for the key, he wasn’t too concerned. The main task was the treasure map, so the key wouldn’t be the priority. The clues were likely grouped together.
The moment he finished speaking, two voices rang out at the same time—
“No way!”
“…What’s the second option?”
As expected, Xie Xizhao sighed. “Second option, you two follow me, and we search one area at a time. But it’ll be slower.”
“Slow is fine,” Ai Qingyuan said.
Yun Pan quickly nodded in agreement.
Though he didn’t say much, his reaction was even more dramatic than Ai Qingyuan’s—he was practically hiding behind Xie Xizhao.
With their decision made, Xie Xizhao didn’t argue. “Qingyuan, you take the left side. Panpan, you take the right. I’ll handle the counter. If anything happens, just call me.”
To the left of the counter, a curtain led to the backyard, while on the right, a wooden staircase led to the second floor. Taking their fear into account, Xie Xizhao assigned himself the most dangerous area.
Sure enough, both of them visibly relaxed.
Seeing them obediently head off in opposite directions, Xie Xizhao turned toward the bar counter.
But after just a few steps, something occurred to him, and he paused. “Oh, right.”
“Focus on the areas with cameras,” Xie Xizhao said.
The two froze for a moment.
Then, Yun Pan suddenly caught on, his eyes lighting up.
—
Xie Xizhao’s words were purely based on experience.
No matter how realistic the setup was, this was still just a variety show. The production team couldn’t place cameras everywhere, but they still needed to capture the guests clearly. To balance that, they had to compromise on the difficulty of the game.
Ai Qingyuan was well aware of this, so he wasn’t surprised at all. Only Yun Pan, who was appearing on a show for the first time, had been clueless.
But he was quick to react.
Xie Xizhao glanced at Yun Pan. After hearing his words, the boy immediately dashed toward the right side near the entrance. He didn’t start rummaging through things right away but instead carefully studied the setup around him.
Xie Xizhao had initially assumed that Yun Pan was just an introvert who disliked lively environments. Now, he was certain—the kid probably just had social anxiety.
The thought passed through his mind in a flash before he turned his attention back to his surroundings.
Only upon getting closer did he realize that the setup was even more intricate than he had expected.
On the counter sat an abacus, an account book, and a calligraphy brush. Behind the counter was a short cabinet with two shelves. The upper shelf held a few stitched-bound ancient books, while the lower shelf displayed antique decorations.
To the left of the cabinet were wine jars, stacked in two layers. Xie Xizhao counted roughly twenty to thirty of them.
And the locations with cameras? Just three.
The counter, the second shelf of the cabinet, and the area beside the wine jars on the left.
Xie Xizhao pondered for a moment, then walked over to the counter first.
Lying on top was a letter.
The content of the letter wasn’t particularly difficult to understand. It roughly stated that this was a haunted inn. The heavy resentment lingering here stemmed from the fact that the former owners, a husband and wife, were cannibals who had turned countless guests into food.
Xie Xizhao skimmed through the background at lightning speed but paused at the final sentence.
The last line read:
[Remember! Do not on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month—]
The sentence was incomplete, the handwriting abrupt and forceful. After that, the paper was speckled with bloodstains.
The fifteenth of the first lunar month… a full moon night?
Xie Xizhao pondered.
This single clue alone wasn’t enough to deduce anything. He mentally noted it down and moved over to check the books on the cabinet.
They were prop books. When he flipped through them, they weren’t empty—every page was filled with text. Skimming through them, he realized they contained snippets of ancient knowledge, complete with illustrations. The content was quite rich.
As informative as they were, there was just too much to sift through, making it difficult to pinpoint anything significant at a glance.
After flipping through a few, Xie Xizhao returned them to their original spots.
He felt a slight headache coming on.
That was the nature of these kinds of games—finding clues was easy, but analyzing and piecing them together was the real challenge.
Once the pattern was discovered, the rest would fall into place. The hardest part was always the beginning.
After thinking for a moment, his gaze shifted to the wine jars beside him.
They were designed in an antique style. Instead of being sealed with clay, they were covered with a thin layer of oil paper, secured with a rubber band around the mouth.
It looked… incredibly tempting to open.
Xie Xizhao thought so—and did exactly that.
But before making a move, he reached into his pocket.
A small die, glowing with a faint green light, was lifted into the air, its innocent gaze meeting his.
“I know I’m making things difficult for you,” Xie Xizhao whispered, shielding the die from the cameras. “But can’t you just show me a two-digit number? And maybe even put them in order?”
The die: “…”
It stared at Xie Xizhao. Xie Xizhao stared back.
Then, deciding their negotiation was over, he tossed the die into the air.
The soft green glow traced an arc before landing in his palm.
It was a 1.
Xie Xizhao pondered.
He threw it again.
After rolling six times and getting 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 in perfect order, he finally understood—this was his little pet’s way of sending a silent protest.
With a slight sigh of regret, he stopped hesitating, crouched down, rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and started opening the wine jars.
The first one—his hand reached inside and touched something soft.
When he pulled it out, he found a severed finger made of cotton cloth.
He raised an eyebrow.
The camera whirred silently, attempting to capture even the slightest reaction on his face.
But Xie Xizhao merely placed the severed finger back inside and casually tossed the jar aside.
His expression remained unchanged, as if he hadn’t just touched a bloody prop but an ordinary piece of cloth.
The second jar contained a pair of realistic eyeballs.
The third.
The fourth…
When he opened the fifth jar, he found himself silently staring into the grotesque face of a menacing ghost mask.
After a brief moment of contemplation, he spoke. “Ai Qingyuan.”
“Hm?”
Footsteps quickly approached.
The cool guy walked over coolly—then very uncoolly yelped in shock.
“Holy sh—!”
Xie Xizhao asked, “Looks pretty realistic, doesn’t it?”
Ai Qingyuan: “…Ha. Ha.”
After a short mental reset, Xie Xizhao flexed his sore wrist and continued opening the jars.
When he reached the twelfth one, his hands suddenly paused.
Then, he lifted the jar, placed it on the table, and pulled out its contents.
Inside was a wooden box, locked shut.
A four-digit combination lock was fastened to its front.
