HEIFEIGU -Chapter 28

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Ran Shi ran over, helping Meng Zezhou up, peeking over his shoulder curiously yet nervously. “Looks like there’s nothing there. Are you trying to scare us so we miss clues?”

Meng Zezhou touched his hand. The icy sensation lingered, exactly like every time he got close to Qian Shuyun.

Knowing there was a ghost calmed him. Half his purpose for coming here had already been achieved—he just didn’t know what connection this ghost had to Xie Jixing.

“I knew you were lying!” Ran Shi, from behind, somehow ended up in front of the drawer. “There’s nothing inside, and you’re all jumpy.”

Meng Zezhou stared at him seriously. “Someone just touched my hand.”

“Ice-cold, really cold.”

“Re… really?” Ran Shi swallowed and started getting scared again. “You’re not tricking me, are you?”

“Go try it yourself.”

Ran Shi opened the last drawer. As he reached in, it felt like an icy hand grabbed his wrist and yanked hard.

“Ahh!” He pulled his hand back, shaking it vigorously. “What the heck was that?!”

“So… scary QAQ”

“Is there really something in there?” Quan You’er’s voice trembled again.

Ran Shi nodded frantically.

The cheerful mood vanished instantly. Everyone huddled together, moving cautiously.

Finally, Meng Zezhou searched the last drawer—it was empty.

The group began moving toward the next courtyard.

This courtyard’s rooms felt more modern compared to the previous ones. Dim yellow wall lamps lit the rooms, and a tall bookshelf reached the ceiling.

Yet an embroidered portrait hung rather incongruously.

Meng Zezhou scanned the room, frustrated. “You all have CPs, and I’m the only single one?”

Fans in the livestream spammed comments again.

【Meng Meng, don’t be sad—your husband is watching you in the observation room.】

【Sister, you get me. Ling Peng’s gaze is super gentle.】

【Came from the trending topic—heard my dead CP revived.】

Some Meng fans couldn’t stand it and struck back.

【Can you stop riding the wave? Meng Zezhou’s stated it so many times! Must you spam the comments?】

【Why should your fangirling matter? We’re not interfering with your shipping—why not just enjoy?】

Other fans of various artists and casual viewers were also watching. The arguments affected viewing experience, and Meng fans quietly endured.

Meng Zezhou noticed the embroidered beauty blink.

“Ah~” Quan You’er screamed again. “Did you see that? Did you see that? It blinked!”

The other four nodded in agreement.

“How did they do that?” Li Jiani in the observation room exclaimed. “It looks so real.”

“Definitely a projection!” Ling Peng replied. “Place a projector on the opposite wall, and while everyone focuses on the embroidery, play a blinking animation. Everyone gets tricked.”

Yu Xinghan disagreed. “We’ve used this tech before. It’s angle-sensitive. The group was spread out—distorted projections wouldn’t scare them. I don’t think it’s a projection.”

“Then… it could really be a ghost?” Ling Peng asked, cruelly.

If the answer is yes, it’s misleading. If no, it’s the room’s actor tricking them.

Yu Xinghan gritted his teeth. “Yeah, probably Ling’s guess is right. The production team may have used advanced tech.”

On the hot search list for Big Eye Social, the entry #Ling Peng, Greek God of Truth appeared.

The room’s lighting was brighter and less scary. Meng Zezhou and Huai Xinhou removed the embroidery from the wall. Behind the frame, there was an identical portrait.

Above it were large characters: “My wife Yueting in the ancestral courtyard, painted 1894, Huai Xinhou.”

Next to it, small text read: “The times are difficult. I have decided to go to the frontlines. May my wife be safe and happy, year after year.”

The tension from before instantly dissipated.

“What are you doing? What are you doing?” Huai Xinhou shouted. “I may be at war, but that doesn’t mean I’m really dead!”

But that didn’t matter—seeing his black-and-white portrait in the first room, everyone had already guessed his fate.

Yu Yueting, though quiet and introverted, was very empathetic; her eyes were slightly teary.

She sniffled and, feeling embarrassed at being seen crying, whispered to shift the topic: “So what do we do next?”

“Let’s look at these books,” Ran Shi suggested.

The production team had done their job well: the three-row bookshelf had half real books and half fake.

Everyone silently flipped through them.

“I found something!” Quan You’er was the first to spot something: a property deed.

“It says Teacher Huai and Teacher Meng split the house—middle courtyard to Teacher Huai, rear courtyard to Teacher Meng.”

“Bro!” Meng Zezhou suddenly looked at Huai Xinhou. “Why aren’t you taking me?”

Before he could finish, Huai Xinhou spoke. “I found something too—a secret room.”

Ran Shi helped move a bookshelf, revealing a narrow door.

Inside, a dim kerosene lamp lit a long table and a single chair.

Meng Zezhou led, sweeping the table with a flashlight. “All embroidery!”

“The production team really went all out,” Ran Shi remarked.

“The texture feels off,” Yu Yueting said, touching a silk handkerchief. “I once played an embroidery girl in a Qing palace drama. The stitches are dense but shouldn’t fold like this. Something’s hidden inside.”

“Sis, you’re amazing!” Quan You’er gave a thumbs-up.

Yu Yueting took a small pair of scissors, carefully cutting here and there, eventually removing the entire piece of embroidery.

Inside, a small piece of fabric was hidden.

Huai Xinhou picked it up. On it were meaningless horizontal lines and dots. Having acted in several spy dramas, he recognized it instantly: “It’s Morse code.”

“Awesome, bro!” Meng Zezhou encouraged. “Can we decode it?”

“I’ve memorized a few before, I’ll give it a try.” Huai Xinhou brought over carbon sheets and rice paper, wrote a string of letters on them, and then read them under the oil lamp.

“Xin has sacrificed… henceforth… I will make the contact…”

His voice grew lower and lower. By the time he finished reading, everyone was silent.

Yu Yueting, who had been holding back her emotions until now, finally broke down, and large tears silently rolled down her cheeks.

“Damn this production team!” Quan You’er sniffled, “Why did you have to give me a knife?!”

The three men looked helplessly at the two crying women.

Finally, the damn production team spoke: “Congratulations to the player for completing the main quest ‘The Last Love Letter.’ Now revealing player Yu Yueting’s identity: Line – Patriot; Huai Xinhou’s identity: Deeply Affectionate, Informant, War Correspondent.”

Then the production team cut the live stream and switched to a short film.

The image was dim and hazy.

Huai Xinhou had finished handling the deeds and property, giving almost all available wealth to Yu Yueting. He instructed relatives and colleagues to look after his wife, and after settling everything, he went to the front lines.

In the fiercest part of the war, he realized that his pen and camera could not defeat the enemy. As a child of China facing foreign invasion, he should truly devote himself to the fight.

He entrusted someone to return his pen and camera—always by his side—to the rear, to Yu Yueting. Along with them came a booklet for decoding ciphers and a note.

The note had meaningless, irregular dashes and circles. Yu Yueting carefully compared each symbol with the booklet.

“My wife Yueting, be safe. The rise and fall of the nation is everyone’s responsibility. I have joined the army to fight the enemy. If you find a good family, you may remarry—do not grieve.”

Yu Yueting memorized the entire cipher booklet through tears, then burned it.

Though temporarily safe in the rear, no place could truly be secure amid the turmoil.

Because she knew the cipher booklet so well, Yu Yueting voluntarily became their message relay. She wrote intelligence in Morse code on silk and embroidered it into handicrafts to be sent out.

She knew that every time a message included the words “Be safe, do not grieve,” it was from Huai Xinhou.

Even when terrified and exhausted, seeing these three words gave her the courage to pick up her needle again.

She delivered countless pieces of intelligence stitch by stitch, but never received the words “Be safe, do not grieve” again.

Huai Xinhou had fallen on the front lines.

She, still young, had damaged her eyes and health from long hours at the embroidery frame.

Before her death, Yu Yueting wanted to embroider the portrait her husband had once given her into a double-sided embroidery. Unfortunately, the work was only half finished when she died at the embroidery frame—her final love letter to him.

Li Jiani in the observation room grabbed a tissue and wiped her tears. “I thought the production team would follow the usual routine… why is it so cruel!”

“So annoying!”

【Waaah, I’m crying to death!】

【What a breathtakingly beautiful love story QAQ】

【Why does even a casual variety show have to stab us in the heart! My meal tastes salty now!】

Seeing Li Jiani stuck in her emotions, Yu Xinghan joked, “Jiani, did you get a special role? You guessed all of Huai’s keywords correctly.”

“Prophet, stabbed me!”

Only then did the observation room turn its attention back to the game.

“I really just guessed randomly,” Li Jiani said, laughing and crying.

Because she correctly guessed two highly weighted keywords this round, her score instantly jumped to 12 points.

“Jiani, even when you’re guessing randomly, you’re this strong!”

Ling Peng praised her out loud, but in his heart, he wasn’t too happy. Still, having previewed the script, he knew he was safe. Falling behind now would make the eventual reversal even more dramatic. During the break, he instructed his assistant to ask the company to increase the stakes.

Ling Peng, an exceptionally clever boyfriend.

He guessed the ending so naturally!

He shot straight to the middle of the trending list and began climbing toward the top.

The fans’ comments were all unified in anticipation of his epic reversal.

As the hype grew, Ling Peng gently tapped the script on the words “Meng Zezhou.”

Once he cemented his position in the limelight, he wanted Meng Zezhou himself to come and ask to pair with him for a CP.