Murals and Corpses

Yin Yang Corridor, Yin Yang City?

Yu Xing looked at the task issued by the system, her gaze lingering on these two new words.

At least in the Ghostly Apocalypse dungeon, there was no connection whatsoever with this very Chinese-sounding location.

It was indeed imposed upon us.

Yin Yang City sounds vast, so is the so-called Yin Yang Corridor a part of Yin Yang City?

Yu Xing pondered for a moment, then looked up.

The endless corridor is not a straight line, but winds and twists like an earthworm's trail. Not far ahead is a bend, and countless wind chimes disappear into the bend.

Yu Xing could hear her own breathing; in addition, the slight clattering of the wind chimes was amplified infinitely.

His senses were not suppressed; even the slightest movement was detectable to him.

Therefore, he became even more certain that there was no one else in this small area except himself.

"Oh..."

Yu Xing exhaled a puff of white mist, feeling the cold air enveloping him, then closed the message on his smartwatch and rubbed his hands together.

Now that we're here, let's see what this Yin Yang City, which this Side Quest leads to, is all about.

Speaking of which...

Isn't it surprising to see anything in this corridor?

Yu Xing pondered for a moment, then took a step.

The sound of footsteps drowned out his breathing and heartbeat. Wisps of light seeped from the murals on both sides, illuminating the corridor and preventing it from falling into complete darkness.

As he walked, he raised his hand, his fingertips touching the yellow talisman hanging on the wind chime. A slightly granular texture came from the talisman, the cinnabar firmly soaking into the paper like blood.

Yu Xing twitched her nose, feeling a somewhat familiar scent enter her nasal cavity.

It was a scent... of time.

The corridor does indeed look unlike modern ones. The ancient murals are covered with relief patterns, the purpose of which is unknown. The walls are whitewashed, while the ceiling is a wooden mortise and tenon structure, with layers of pieces fitting together to create the visual effect of a roof beam.

The wind chimes hung in the cracks of the wood, their chaos revealing a strange order; they moved automatically without wind, swaying gently.

The corridor wasn't wide, enough for about five adults to walk side by side, but Yu Xing could walk easily by himself. He quickened his pace amidst the unchanging scenery, not ignoring the rapid beating of his heart.

Strangeness.

His heart was beating so fast, as if he knew what was there and was excited about it.

However, Yu Xing was certain that he had never been here before, not even in his dreams. The environment and temperature here felt unfamiliar to him.

Where did Zhao Yijiu go?

Is the Lingren still with him?

Is this corridor a private space for one person, or is everyone sharing the same one?

A series of scattered questions surfaced in Yu Xing's mind, but for the time being, no one could provide him with the answers.

Yu Xing thought that he was probably the one who knew the least about this place among everyone. After all, he was the only one who had been parachuted in midway and had never known before that such a strange place was hidden in the apocalyptic instance.

Did the others already know? Did they prepare before entering the instance?

What did the Lingren know that he would force him into this situation in such a way, to find the so-called qualification to enter the Yin Yang City?

In fact, his connection with Lingren was very limited, and it all boils down to just a few reasons.

Hatred, betrayal, and power.

Betrayal and hatred form the basis of their relationship, but their presence here is inappropriate. The Lingren takes Zhao Yijiu away precisely so that he will willingly find Little Curly, see the totem, and enter the special map of the Yin Yang Corridor.

It seems someone reported a banquet, Lingren insisted he attend. There must be something at the banquet that both he and the Lingren care about. It can't be some lingering hatred, so it can only be... something related to their source of power.

The power of a curse.

Yu Xing walked around another corner and gave a light scoff.

The curse power of the Lingren comes from Hua Subai, and his curse power comes from the Lingren. This curse has been passed down ever since, making these monsters both hate and fight over it.

Coupled with this inexplicable sense of familiarity he was experiencing, Yu Xing was basically certain that the Yin Yang Corridor —or rather, the Yin- Yin Yang Corridor Yin Yang City behind it—was related to the origin of the curse power, and might not just be about the Ghost Tree, but also about something more, a deeper secret.

But he wasn't originally going to come in, so the Lingren took a roundabout way and invited him to join the performance.

He didn't want to think about what benefit inviting him into the game would bring to that Lingren. He just wanted to know if this corridor was dangerous, especially for someone like Zhao Yijiu who didn't have the power of a curse.

Puzzled.

I'm so confused.

Many people in the post-apocalyptic instance seem to be looking for this place, like Carlos and Zhao Ruru... but none of them have the power of the curse.

Perhaps they were unaware of the connection between the cursed power and the Yin Yang City; perhaps they were pursuing something else entirely?

Yu Xing pondered this and that, but couldn't come to a conclusion. After all, Yin Yang City was too unfamiliar to him, and he had no information about it at all. He quickened his pace again, black patterns appeared on his legs, and black mist swirled around him as he moved forward rapidly in a floating state.

The corridor remained winding and meandering, with no end in sight, and no sign of any living person.

Until a certain moment, a different sound came from ahead, and Yu Xing stopped flying, landed on the ground again, and slowly walked forward.

Ahead, a person is hanging.

Yu Xing found it hard to describe his feelings at that moment. He had walked for a long time and looked around and saw that the roof beams were full of wind chimes. At this moment, a person had entered the middle of the wind chimes.

The man had hanged himself; a thin hemp rope tightened around his neck, and his black and white clothes, resembling mourning attire, hung down smoothly until they covered his drooping insteps.

He was somewhat emaciated, clearly a man, but his face was disfigured, covered in scabs; it was unclear who had done it.

Yu Xing stepped forward and tried to touch the hanged man's hand; it was ice cold.

They are completely dead.

"..." Yu Xing didn't say anything, withdrew her gaze, and continued forward, bypassing the corpse.

The surrounding murals seemed to have changed; many elderly people appeared on the reliefs. With simple lines, the old people were either standing or sitting, leaning on canes or lying in bed, withered and decaying, waiting for death.

Yu Xing observed the mural for a while. Even he felt uncomfortable amidst the endless themes of old age and death, and frowned.

However, he soon encountered the second person he had seen in the corridor.

That was a dead person.

It was still a... hanged dead man.

Yu Xing paused, her gaze turning somewhat cold as she looked ahead.

There, a thin hemp rope suspended the corpse, which was dressed in black and white mourning clothes that covered the insteps. The face was covered with dense scabs, making it impossible to recognize the features.

Exactly the same.

It's not that they died in the exact same way, but rather that... the people were exactly the same.

This was the corpse he had encountered earlier.

This time, Yu Xing put the body down and leaned it against the wall. He stood in front of the body in silence for about ten seconds before turning and leaving.

The murals have changed even more; this time, young men and women, perhaps the old man's children, are now beside the frail old man.

Young men and women huddled together, oblivious to the elderly and showing no concern for them. They stood or sat, laughing and talking or looking worried, while the elderly beside them turned their heads toward them and stared at them expressionlessly.

After walking for a while, Yu Xing met a third person.

The empty hemp rope hung down in the middle of the corridor, swaying slightly with the swinging of the wind chimes around it.

The third person leaned against the wall, head bowed, the dense scabs of blood hidden in the shadows, limbs limp, covered in black and white mourning clothes.

Yu Xing personally placed the body down.

The corridor didn't repeat itself, but the corpse kept appearing in front of them—maintaining the position that Yu Xing had placed there.

It just leaned there, extending a silent invitation to Yu Xing, as if to say...

It seems you can't shake me off.