Chu Qingjiu looked coldly at Qi Wu. He should have looked heartless and merciless, but the redness at the corners of his eyes made him seem almost coyly reluctant.
He was rubbing his lips hard with the back of his hand, refusing to stop until they were so red they looked ready to drip blood.
His damp violet eyes were no longer tender. They held only a bloodthirsty killing intent.
"What do you mean, selling my body?"
Qi Wu licked the blood from the corner of his lips. "Didn't you do it willingly, big brother?"
"..."
Much as he hated to admit it, he had indeed kissed Qi Wu of his own accord to get his blood.
As long as he didn't say anything, Qi Wu wouldn't know he had done it willingly.
With a cold expression, Chu Qingjiu straightened his disheveled clothes. His face was flushed, his red lips and white teeth making him exceptionally alluring.
Qi Wu, however, looked at Chu Qingjiu as though he had done something wrong.
His affection for Chu Qingjiu was also slowly dropping, which left Chu Qingjiu inexplicably annoyed. Wasn't keeping it at a hundred good enough?
Seeing Chu Qingjiu's cold, heartless expression and his refusal to look at him again, Qi Wu burst into tears. He pitifully edged up to Chu Qingjiu's feet and whimpered:
"Wah... big brother, I didn't mean to force you. You never said you didn't want to, and you didn't push me away..."
"..."
Qi Wu cried so prettily that Chu Qingjiu had the absurd impression that he had forced himself on Qi Wu and then turned into a coldhearted bastard.
His tears poured freely, as though they cost him nothing. Like a forlorn puppy, he pitifully rubbed his head against Chu Qingjiu's leg, hoping to win his compassion.
"...Stop rubbing against me."
Chu Qingjiu's voice was still a little hoarse, his breathing uneven, and the flush on his face had yet to fade.
Touched by worldly desire, Chu Qingjiu was like a fine wine buried deep in a cellar that had finally been brought into the world, intoxicating Qi Wu with its rich fragrance.
Qi Wu's burning gaze made Chu Qingjiu deeply uncomfortable.
Qi Wu's eyes also drifted down from Chu Qingjiu's impassive face to that intimate spot.
"..."
The wordless silence was more unsettling than any sound. Chu Qingjiu shifted his legs, only for Qi Wu to hold him still with one hand.
Qi Wu's hand moved upward, finally coming to rest between his knees. He raised his eyes again to meet Chu Qingjiu's gaze.
His still-tearful eyes lit up, their shimmering moisture making him look even more harmless.
He stopped crying on command, with such precision that Chu Qingjiu couldn't tell whether he was putting on an act.
Qi Wu's lips curved slightly. His clear amber eyes brimmed with suggestive interest as he coaxed:
"Let me help you, big brother."
Chu Qingjiu looked down at Qi Wu, his slightly lowered lashes motionless. His expression remained impassive, and as the flush slowly faded from his face, that cold, unapproachable aloofness returned.
He tilted his head slightly, and a few loose strands of hair slipped forward from behind him. He hooked them with his fingers and narrowed his eyes at Qi Wu.
Meanwhile, Qi Wu and his companion weren't the only ones who had been followed back to their rooms by ghosts.
Every player who had eaten the offerings on that table and was wearing a Red Thread had a ghost following them.
But restrictions imposed by the rules prevented the ghosts from appearing together to hurt anyone. Three ghosts had begun fighting among themselves over who would go first.
Feeling sinister gusts spring up around him, Zhao Yang shivered. He rubbed his arms with both hands to generate a little warmth before asking, "Does anyone else feel a bit cold?"
Liu Peng nodded in agreement. "A little. It seems to have started after we got back to the room."
Wang Hao, the man with the buzz cut, touched the Red Thread around his wrist. Looking doubtful, he frowned and said, "Do you think these Red Threads really work the way that Head Steward said? Are they actually meant to ward off evil?"
"No idea, but Wu Qi's wearing one too, isn't he?" Zhao Yang said matter-of-factly.
He had originally thought there was something sinister about these things too, but when he saw Wu Qi let that sickly beauty put one on him without finding anything amiss, he hadn't thought much more about it.
"Hey, wait..." Zhao Yang suddenly spoke up. "That sickly guy, that Paper Effigy Master-didn't he leave the Red Thread off?"
At Zhao Yang's words, Liu Peng and Wang Hao began recalling what had happened. After a long silence, they said in unison, "He wasn't wearing one."
Chu Qingjiu seemed to know something. When he had said there was something wrong with the Eldest Young Master Xu at night, Master Xu's hesitant expression had made it clear that Chu Qingjiu really did possess some skill.
Then had he refused to wear a Red Thread because he knew something?
Zhao Yang suddenly grew suspicious of the Red Thread on his wrist. He tugged at it with his other hand, his expression growing darker.
Wang Hao seemed to understand what Zhao Yang was thinking and tried to stop him. "But we don't know whether going without a Red Thread is actually the right choice. I'd suggest sticking with everyone else and leaving it on."
"Yeah, I know."
Zhao Yang answered lazily, then released his grip on the Red Thread, seemingly abandoning any intention of taking it off.
As if.
There was definitely something wrong with those inexplicable sinister gusts. Perhaps the Red Threads had attracted ghosts that had followed them into the room.
He had no intention of staying with a ghost.
Zhao Yang secretly removed his Red Thread behind their backs, then breathed a sigh of relief. He was willing to believe that Chu Qingjiu really was capable, and that he really was right.
The three fighting ghosts finally settled their contest. The winner was a Vengeful Ghost shrouded entirely in black mist, with no discernible human shape.
A Vengeful Ghost formed when someone died bearing resentment. It had no definite shape or intelligence and was exceptionally vicious and bloodthirsty.
It slowly approached Zhao Yang, who was no longer wearing a Red Thread, then possessed him.
Those wearing Red Threads were prey. Those without them were hunters. Prey would die, but hunters would not.
Possessed by the Vengeful Ghost, Zhao Yang stared straight at Wang Hao, who sat before him, with blood-red eyes. He gave an utterly grotesque smile that made one's hair stand on end and set alarm bells ringing.
Wang Hao sensed that something was terribly wrong. He instinctively tried to flee, but the red-eyed Zhao Yang seized him, drawing an agonized scream from his mouth.
"Aah-"
Seeing this, Liu Peng immediately understood what had happened. He could no longer worry about Wang Hao's safety. In a crisis, he could only save himself, so he bolted for the door.
"Aah-don't go! Help me!"
His only answer was Liu Peng's retreating back-and a hand that pierced straight through his heart.
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