Chapter 447 – Palpitations from That World – Only Tang Tang Was Frightened (14)
The game began ahead of schedule. The judges had already taken their seats, and the players looked at one another, unsure what they were supposed to do.
The puppet figures brought their own small stools and sat down in the middle of the hall. Their dead, fish-like eyes stared unblinkingly, making the players’ scalps prickle with unease. Ning Sitong was still the first to act—she walked over to the puppets and sat down on the floor at a distance that was neither too close nor too far.
Once Ning Sitong settled into place, the puppets stopped staring at her and shifted their gaze to the others who were still standing nearby.
The rest followed her example, gathering around the puppets and finding spots to sit.
Almost everyone sat around the two judges. Wei Wen and Wei Xing even chose positions as far away from the judges as possible. Now only Wen Junnan and Bai Tang remained standing. The judges tilted their heads toward them, their eerie expressions urging them to sit down quickly.
There was no way Wen Junnan would agree to let Bai Tang sit directly on the bare floor.
He lowered his head and whispered something into Bai Tang’s ear. The pale-faced boy nodded. Wen Junnan pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then tucked a cushion under him. After that, he dragged the entire sofa over to the puppets—almost failing to stop in time and nearly knocking over the two puppets seated on their small stools.
The tall sofa and the low stools stood on opposite sides, forming a stark contrast—like some bizarre food chain: the players sitting on the ground → the judges on their stools → and at the very top, the supreme “sofa rulers,” Wen Junnan and Bai Tang.
The players: “…” So we’re the only weak, pitiful, and helpless ones here, right?
Wen Junnan checked Bai Tang’s wound. There was no bleeding; the movement earlier hadn’t affected it.
“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Bai Tang said as he sat up, leaning slightly against Wen Junnan. He was too eye-catching, and that wasn’t a good thing for Wen Junnan, who stayed close by his side. Bai Tang had already fallen out with the Bandaged Man and had nothing left to hold back—but the three newcomers tonight were different. He couldn’t tell whether they were trustworthy or secretly harboring ill intentions.
“Better safe than sorry.” Wen Junnan gently tucked the blanket around him, his whole being radiating overflowing affection. The boy cherished by a man who seemed almost godlike inspired both envy and jealousy—though injured, he was receiving the utmost care.
Wen Junnan’s complete indulgence toward Bai Tang made others burn with envy.
“Let the game begin.”
Though he was merely sitting on a sofa, the man gave orders as if seated upon a throne.
The two judges turned their heads toward the players.
The game had begun.
“So… who goes first?” Chen Wan asked in a small voice. His face carried fear of the unknown, and when he noticed everyone looking at him, he shrank back in fright.
Li Pai, who was sitting beside him, let out a snort of laughter, his face openly showing mockery. Last night’s game had taught him a vivid lesson—although he still looked down on Chen Wan for being timid and cowardly, he at least refrained from saying or doing anything that might cause conflict.
“According to the previous rules, we go in order by room number,” Ning Sitong said in a low voice. But now… she lifted her head to look at the puppets. They were all staring motionlessly at Chen Wan, their intention obvious—tonight’s storytelling session would begin with him.
Being stared at by the puppets felt awful, especially for Chen Wan, who was under immense psychological pressure.
Ning Sitong let out a sigh. “It seems tonight’s game won’t follow the room number order. Since the judges have already chosen, Chen Wan, you should start.”
The newly joined players hadn’t drawn cards, so they naturally didn’t have room numbers. No one knew what kind of changes might happen tonight… Ning Sitong subtly glanced toward the two people on the sofa. Bai Tang was severely injured, leaning weakly against Wen Junnan with his eyes closed, resting. Wen Junnan lowered his gaze, as if Bai Tang was the only person in his world, completely indifferent to everything else around him—even the newcomers’ wailing cries failed to draw his attention.
“Um… Ning, do you read a lot of horror stories?” Li Tefeng asked in a low voice. As a bright and handsome guy, he had never paid attention to urban legends or campus ghost stories. He racked his brains but still couldn’t come up with a horror story to tell.
Ning Sitong knew plenty of horror stories—she had ready-made material—but she couldn’t openly share one with him. The judges were watching, and being judged as cheating would have unimaginable consequences.
After thinking for a moment, she gave him a hint: “Was last night’s experience scary enough? Exciting enough?” In other words, he could simply tell his own experience from last night—it was his personal story, so there was no risk of overlapping with anyone else’s.
Li Tefeng’s eyes lit up. Of course—he could use his own experience as the story. What a perfect topic—definitely thrilling and terrifying.
After thinking for a long time, Chen Wan finally began tremblingly to tell a story about a midnight bus:
On the last bus at midnight, an old woman and a young girl got on. At the next stop, two young men boarded. Suddenly, the old woman stood up and grabbed the girl, accusing her of stealing something. The girl naturally denied it, but the old woman refused to let go, insisting on taking her to the police station. The girl, being young and hot-tempered, refused to accept such a false accusation and got off the bus with the old woman.
After they got off, the old woman told her that the two young men who had boarded earlier were not normal, and that she had been trying to save her. The girl didn’t believe her and wanted to get to the bottom of it, so she tried to find the two men to confront them—but no matter what, she couldn’t find them. Even the last bus and its driver had disappeared.
According to the staff at the bus terminal, the last bus never returned, and they are still searching for it to this day.
If the old woman hadn’t insisted on pulling the young girl off the bus, there would have been two more people missing along with it.
After finishing his story, the two judges began to score him. On a sheet of white A4 paper, they wrote a red 6—there was some suspense, but it wasn’t thrilling enough.
Next was Li Tefeng. He exaggerated his own escape experience, adding fabricated details that made it sound incredibly dramatic. Under his narration, demons and monsters trembled like quails, while he displayed overwhelming power and ultimately escaped alive.
If she didn’t have to restrain herself from making obvious reactions, Ning Sitong would have been holding her forehead by now. What kind of fool is this? The judges wanted a scary story—something that would frighten the audience and evoke fear. But he made himself sound like a savior. How could that possibly scare anyone?
After Li Tefeng finished speaking, the judges lowered their heads and wrote a red 5 on the paper. It completely failed to meet the requirements; giving him any score at all was already being generous.
When Li Tefeng saw the score, his face immediately fell. No way… I actually got the lowest score. I’m done for.
“The storytelling session will exempt the highest scorer from the next round. There probably won’t be any punishment for low scores,” Ning Sitong comforted him.
Li Tefeng wiped his face and reassured himself inwardly. There were still several people left—he might not necessarily be the worst.
Next was Wei Wen. She told a story about mountain climbing:
A group of mountaineering enthusiasts went on an expedition. Among them was a couple deeply in love. When they reached the foot of the mountain, the girl in the couple unfortunately came down with a fever. Climbing required good physical condition, and she wasn’t fit to go, so she stayed behind at the base, waiting for the others to return.
On the first day of climbing, the weather suddenly changed, and a blizzard was approaching. Although the girl was anxious, the conditions didn’t allow her to go up the mountain to look for them. One day passed, and no one returned. Two days passed—still no one came back. Three days… still nothing.
On the seventh day, the team finally returned. Everyone came back safely—except for her boyfriend.
The team told her that on the first day of climbing, they had encountered a blizzard, making it impossible to descend. Later, they were hit by an avalanche. Although everyone else survived, her boyfriend had unfortunately died. Since he loved her deeply, he might come back to find her.
The girl turned pale with fear. Accompanied by her teammates, she waited until midnight. As the clock struck twelve, her boyfriend rushed toward her, covered in blood, grabbed her, and started running. Terrified, she burst into tears. Her boyfriend told her that on the very first day they climbed the mountain, they had encountered a blizzard—everyone had died, and only he had survived…
“Who do you believe?” Wei Wen asked, holding a candle up to her face. The flickering light cast shifting shadows, making it an unsettling sight.
Bai Tang shrank slightly into Wen Junnan’s arms, clearly frightened. Wen Junnan stroked the boy’s soft hair. “Don’t be scared. It’s all fake.”
He had heard many stories of this kind before. Wei Wen’s story wasn’t particularly original, but for those who were timid and prone to vivid imagination, it was indeed effective—like Tang Tang, who had been scared enough to hide in his arms.
On one hand, Wen Junnan had to soothe Bai Tang’s emotions; on the other, he had to be careful of Bai Tang’s injury. The bleeding had only just stopped—he absolutely couldn’t let it reopen.
The medicine from the system shop was top-quality, far beyond ordinary drugs. By now, the wound had absorbed most of it, and Bai Tang’s complexion was no longer as pale as when he had first entered.
“A Nan, what story are you going to tell?” Taking advantage of the moment while he still felt relatively well, Bai Tang hurried to exchange information with Wen Junnan.
“There are plenty stored up here.” Wen Junnan tapped his head. “Tang Tang, you should tell ‘Nightmare Space.’”
Nightmare Space—that urban legend “little box” from Lanxing, originating in a future world.
Just recalling the red-clothed woman he had encountered in the old district made Bai Tang’s heart tremble. He had faced her directly before—if Wen Junnan hadn’t come to save him, he probably wouldn’t have made it out.
Bai Tang nodded, indicating he understood.
The little squirrel was already afraid of these things, yet he still had to recall and retell them—it really put him in a difficult position.
Below the sofa, after Wei Wen finished, it was Wei Xing’s turn. He also told a bus story, quite similar to Chen Wan’s—again about the last bus, and again someone being pulled off. The difference lay in the ending: in Wei Xing’s version, the “kind person” who pulled the girl off the bus actually did so to keep her for himself, unwilling to share her with the other entities on the bus.
Just when it seemed like she had escaped, she still couldn’t get away. Seeing hope only to fall into despair again—the emotional ups and downs made the listeners’ hearts tighten.
Thinking about their own situation, they were told that clearing the game meant survival. But no one had cleared it yet—could they really leave here alive? And even if they could, there was no clear number of rounds. How long would they have to keep playing?
The stories told by Wei Wen and Wei Xing were very engaging. Although most of the players had mentally prepared themselves, telling themselves that everything was fake, some were still frightened—
Bai Tang, on the verge of tears, curled up in Wen Junnan’s arms, seeking comfort.