This is a bizarre rule, isn't it? It's supposed to grant me many children and good fortune

A short while later, Lin Feng returned from the restroom and sat down in his seat.

He casually grabbed the bottle of honey grapefruit tea on the table, unscrewed the cap, and took another sip.

The sweet and sour taste spread in my mouth, greatly reducing the roughness left by the previous bites of rye bread.

He smacked his lips, shifted his gaze from the plate, and casually scanned the dining room.

Then, his gaze settled on the east wall.

The painting hung there quietly, as if it had been waiting for him to look at it.

The frame is small, about a foot square, and made of ebony.

The edges are carved with intricate and delicate patterns of intertwined branches.

There was no nameplate, nor any signature.

It wasn't hung in the exact center; it was positioned slightly to the east and north of the wall, as if it had been casually hung up during a renovation and hadn't been touched since.

The painting depicts a woman around twenty years old.

Blonde hair, black dress.

His skin was so white it was unreal, like the kind of white that had never seen the sun, with a touch of cool gray.

She sat in a chair, her right hand resting on her knee, her posture dignified, her fingertips slightly curved.

On her ring finger was a black gemstone ring, small in size, but under the sole beam of light in the painting, it reflected a faint, dim glow.

The background of the entire painting is extremely dark.

It was so dark that it was impossible to tell whether it was a room or empty space. Only that face was illuminated by a light that seemed to come from nowhere, making its forehead, nose, and cheekbones clearly defined.

His painting skills are extremely high.

The people in the painting don't seem to be painted out; they seem to be encased in a frame.

Those eyes were especially lifelike—gray pupils with a tiny bright spot deep within them, like a reflection of candlelight.

She looked out of the painting, but her gaze wasn't on Lin Feng, nor on anyone else in the restaurant.

She was looking at a place very far away.

Lin Feng tightened his grip on the teapot slightly.

He remembered the painting at the end of the hall.

Behind the main seat, a mural covers the entire wall, depicting the grand scene of a full moon banquet, with a woman in a long dress in the center of the crowd.

Her face was veiled in a faint shadow, making it difficult to see clearly, but her posture, demeanor, and standing position... were almost identical to the woman in the painting before us.

One was in the lobby, and the other was in the restaurant.

One face was shrouded in shadow, the other was illuminated by light alone.

One was so grand it occupied an entire wall, while the other was so small it was only a foot square.

But the feeling of being "sealed" is exactly the same.

Vivian seemed to notice Lin Feng's gaze.

She put down her honey grapefruit tea, followed his gaze to the painting, and then said softly, "That's a portrait of my great-grandmother."

Lin Feng asked curiously, "Why isn't the name of this beautiful hostess written on the wall?"

“Indeed, all the portraits in the castle have nameplates,” Vivian shook her head slightly, “except for her. My brother said it’s the rule.”

Lin Feng's heart skipped a beat: "Why?"

"I don't know." Vivian rested her chin on her hand. "But there are many rumors about her in the family."

"What kind of legend?"

Vivian leaned back in her chair, lowering her voice slightly, with a touch of childlike silliness as she told a ghost story:

"Rumor has it that when she was forty, she looked like she was twenty. And when she was sixty, she still looked like she was twenty."

The elders in the clan said privately—her beauty had stopped time.

The restaurant had fallen silent at some point, and everyone was listening intently.

"And what else?" Vivian stretched out her finger and tapped the corner of her eye.

"The court painter who painted this picture for her went blind after finishing the last stroke."

"My family said that the artist saw my great-grandmother so realistically that he painted her very soul into the painting."

Lin Feng frowned and asked again, "Has this painting always been hanging here?"

"No," Vivian shook her head, "There's a very, very old rule in the family—her portrait must be hung in the living room, in a well-lit place. It absolutely cannot be hung in the bedroom, and it absolutely cannot be placed in front of a mirror."

"Looking in the mirror?"

"Yes, that's right. You might laugh, but I've always been afraid to look at this painting alone since I was little. I always felt... like she was watching me!"

Vivian said this with a smile, but few people in the restaurant could actually laugh.

Mark frowned and said, "It's just a painting, but your family has so many rules."

"And the strangest one," Vivian said, her voice lowering as if she had remembered something.

"The birth and death dates of everyone in the castle are clearly recorded in the family tree."

"Only her page—the year of death column—is empty."

Lin Feng tapped his fingertips lightly on the table.

Where is she buried?

After pausing for a moment, Weiwei spoke, "...I asked my brother about this once."

"What did he say?"

"He stared at me for a long time," Vivian said softly, as if afraid of disturbing something, "and then said—'Vivian, this is not something you should ask.'"

The restaurant was silent for a few seconds.

"Oh, right," Lin Feng said as if suddenly remembering, "where did Mr. Victor go?"

"I've gone to town to buy some things and will be back before dark."

Lin Feng nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

Lunch ended in a subtle silence.

........................

At 1 p.m., Leng Meng gathered everyone in the main hall.

"You all did a great job cleaning the fireplace this morning." Leng Meng opened the notebook. "Now, I'll assign the afternoon's tasks."

"Seven sets of ancestral knight armor are displayed in the West Wing Hall. They need to be wiped clean and maintained one by one and moved to new pedestals."

She closed the notebook and added, "The armor mission must be completed before nightfall."

The group accepted the order and set off.

Leng Meng suddenly called out, "Wait!"

Everyone paused and turned around.

Leng Meng's gaze swept over everyone: "There are five rules that I must explain to you in advance."

"First, never try to lift the armor plates."

"If the mask opens on its own, stand still, keep your eyes wide open, do not close your eyes, and do not turn around until the mask closes again."

"Second, if you hear a voice calling your name from inside the armor, look down and check your feet."

"If the armor casts no shadow, do not respond; only when the armor casts a shadow can you respond."

"Third, each of the seven sets of armor has its own name, and you must whisper its name before moving it."

"If a metallic vibration responds from inside the armor after your name is called, please bow immediately and say 'I'm sorry to bother you today' before you can move it."

"Fourth, during the transport, no matter what happens, the armor must not be removed from your hands, nor should it be put back in its original position midway."

"Fifth, after all seven sets of armor have been moved, do not look back when leaving the hall."

"It's normal to hear footsteps following you."

"Keep walking, don't run, don't stop, until you're out of the West Wing."

"These are the five rules."

"After completing the task, just wait outside the hall. I will come to inspect it immediately."

Good luck to everyone.

After saying that, Leng Meng said no more, turned around and left...