Since all these rules and superstitions are outdated, what's wrong with me indulging in some me

The two people looked at each other across countless layers of medium—eyes, pupils, irises, hexagonal grids, walls, blue light, and space.

The man put down his coffee cup, leaned forward slightly, and brought his face close to the screen. His lips were moving, as if he were saying something, but Lu Changsheng couldn't hear anything. He could only see the man's lip movements—opening and closing, like a fish being pulled ashore.

Lu Changsheng read the lip movements.

"I see you."

In that instant, Lu Changsheng felt his back was completely soaked.

Xiao Yuheng slowly stood up, a playful smile in his eyes.

He slowly stood up and strode towards the door.

"run!"

Lu Changsheng said in a low voice.

Xiao Yuheng's room is right next to the study. Although they are now enveloped in blue light, the old man could sense their presence even when they were enveloped in blue light. Xiao Yuheng could not be any different, and might even be stronger.

Lu Changsheng's voice was very low, but in this study full of eyes, every word was magnified infinitely, captured, refracted, and echoed by thousands of eyes, like a pebble thrown into a deep well.

"Creak—"

The sound of Xiao Yuheng's bedroom door opening was particularly jarring in the quiet fifth-floor corridor. It wasn't an ordinary door opening sound, but rather the dull rustling of the wooden door against the carpet fibers, the slight collision of metal and stone as the door hinges turned, and the low, muffled thud of the door panel hitting the frame.

Lu Changsheng heard it very clearly.

In this study filled with eyes, every sound is amplified, refracted, and echoed. The sound of the door opening surges in like a tide from the corridor, squeezes in through the cracks in the door, and seeps in through the pupils of the eyes on the wall, filling the entire room.

He looked around.

There are no windows in the study.

The window they climbed through earlier is completely invisible from this angle. The bookshelves block the view, the hallway is around a corner, or—that window never existed at all. The window they climbed through was the study door. They thought they came in through the window, but they actually came in through another door.

This study has no exit.

There is only an entrance.

The entrance is currently blocked by someone who scored 96 points.

An Zhiyu placed her hand on Lu Changsheng's arm. The touch was light, but Lu Changsheng gleaned information from that touch.

He turned his head and looked at An Zhiyu.

An Zhiyu didn't look at him. Her gaze fell on the wall deep in the study, covered with eyes, the dark pupils reflecting the dense hexagonal grid.

She reached into her pocket, fumbled around for a few seconds, and then pulled her hand out.

A small die lies in the palm of my hand.

It's nothing special, nothing unusual about it.

"What is this?" Lu Changsheng asked in a low voice.

"The Dice of Fate." An Zhiyu's voice was very soft, so soft that only the two of them could hear it. "I found it in the previous instance."

She paused for a moment.

An Zhiyu's voice was very calm, so calm that it was as if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her. "A copy can only be used once. I don't know what the result will be when I throw it."

Lu Changsheng looked at the die in her palm. It was ordinary, white with black dots, exactly the same as the kind sold in small shops on the street.

But in this instance, nothing is "normal." The fact that Anzhiyu could pick up this die in the previous instance cannot be explained by probability.

The footsteps in the hallway stopped. Not that they had arrived, but that they had stopped. They stopped just outside the study door, less than three meters away.

Xiao Yuheng's voice came from outside the door, carrying a strange, almost joyful quality. "You shouldn't have come here. But since you're here, stay."

The doorknob turned. The brass gave off a dull gleam in the darkness, and every degree of its rotation was captured, magnified, and transmitted by the eye on the wall.

Lu Changsheng could feel Xiao Yuheng's hand on the doorknob, could feel his wrist exerting force, and could feel the door hinges turning. In just one second, perhaps half a second, the door would be fully open.

Anzhiyu tossed the dice into the air.

The die rose slowly in the blue light, its six sides flashing in turn. At that moment, Lu Changsheng saw clearly—the numbers on the die weren't engraved or printed on, but grew from within, like seeds sprouting, like flower buds blooming. Each number trembled slightly as it spun, as if it were something alive.

The word "fate" became incredibly concrete at this moment. It wasn't an abstract, philosophical concept, but a physical, tangible fact happening right before our eyes. A die, six sides, six possibilities.

Luck or misfortune, survival or death, escape or being trapped—all possibilities are compressed into this small, white die spinning in the air.

The die stopped, hovering in mid-air, enveloped in blue light. The number on the upward-facing side was—

six.

Six dots. Six black, round dots that grow out from the inside of the die.

They are arranged in a regular pattern on the surface of the dice, not the usual arrangement of dice, but an older, more primitive, star-map-like arrangement. The six dots are connected to form a complete circle, with a smaller dot at the center of the circle, like a pupil, like a star, like an opening door.

"Let's go," An Zhiyu said.

The next second, the dice exploded.

Six black dots detached from the surface of the die, suspended in the air, and slowly rotated. They rotated faster and faster, until they became six black lines, which intertwined to form a hexagonal, honeycomb-like pattern.

Lu Changsheng pulled An Zhiyu and rushed into the light.

The door was not opened.

Xiao Yuheng stood at the door, wearing a dark blue bathrobe, his hair falling over his shoulders, his bare feet on the stone slabs.

He removed his hand from the doorknob and slipped it into his robe pocket, his posture as relaxed as someone taking a stroll. But his eyes were not relaxed. The pupils of his gray eyes had shrunk to pinpoints.

Just now, he sensed that the presence of the living person inside the door had disappeared.

Xiao Yuheng stood at the door, his fingers slightly curling inside the pocket of his bathrobe.

Then a perfect, gentle smile appeared on his face.

"Zhenren...you have some skill."

After the light faded, Lu Changsheng found himself standing in a familiar place.

It wasn't the study, the corridor, or any of the rooms he had ever been to in the castle.

He lowered his head, his feet treading on stone slabs and soil covered with grass roots.

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He looked around.

This is a courtyard. It's not big, only a few dozen steps in circumference. In the center of the courtyard stands a dead tree stump, very tall, taller than a person, with a trunk so thick that it would take two people to hug it.

The bark had peeled off, revealing grayish-white wood with cracks all over its surface.

Something was coiled around the base of the tree stump.

Chains. Black chains, engraved with runes. The chains emerged from the soil, coiling around the roots of the tree stump, layer upon layer, like countless snakes intertwined. The other end of the chains stretched into the darkness, into the nothingness beyond the wall, into the unknown depths.

Lu Changsheng stared at the chains.

"here it is--"

An Zhiyu's voice came from behind him, softer than usual, as if afraid of disturbing something. Lu Changsheng turned around.

There was a person lying there.

A white dress, long black hair, and a porcelain-white face.

Xiao Qingniao.

Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow on her eyelids, her lips slightly pursed, as if she were having an unpleasant dream. Her white skirt spread out on the stone slabs, like a flower wet with rain. A black chain was wrapped around her wrist, the other end of which disappeared at the base of a dead tree stump, connecting with the chains that were wrapped around the tree roots.

But there's more than one.

Lu Changsheng shifted his gaze from Xiao Qingniao and swept it towards the depths of the courtyard.

There is light in the darkness.

It wasn't blue light, nor candlelight, but a fainter, more fleeting light, like that of fireflies. The light flickered uncertainly in the darkness, sometimes near, sometimes far, as if being pulled, bound, and trapped in place by something.

He saw a second Xiao Qingniao.

About ten paces away from the first one, she wore the same white dress, had the same black hair, and the same porcelain-white face. Her eyes were also closed, and black chains were wrapped around her wrists, the other end of which disappeared into the base of the withered tree stump. Her body was slightly curled up, as if she were being pressed down by something, or perhaps protecting something.

The third.

the fourth.

the fifth.

Lu Changsheng lost count. With each step he took, a new Xiao Qingniao appeared in the darkness. They lay on the stone slabs, leaned against the walls, curled up under tree stumps, and hung from chains. Some had their eyes open, their pupils staring blankly at the ceiling; some had their eyes closed, their lips moving slightly, as if reciting some unheard words; some lay on their sides, their hands reaching into the void, as if grasping something unattainable.

Each one of them was ethereal and graceful. Each one of them was bound by chains.

Chains extended from their ankles, wrists, waists, and necks, converging at the base of the withered tree stump, like countless rivers flowing into the sea. The chains trembled slightly in the darkness, emitting a faint, heart-beat-like hum.

An Zhiyu stood beside Lu Changsheng, still clutching the shattered fragment of the die in her hand. Her expression remained unchanged, but her hand trembled slightly.

"This is...her dream?" An Zhiyu's voice was very soft.

Lu Changsheng didn't answer immediately. He crouched down and reached out to touch the nearest chain. The moment his fingertips touched the chain, a chilling, piercing cold surged up from his fingertips, rushing down his arm to his shoulder. It wasn't the cold of metal, but the coldness of the soul, something deeper, more essential, almost death-like.

He withdrew his hand and looked down at his fingertips. A layer of black powder clung to them, slowly burning in the blue light with a faint hissing sound before disappearing.

He withdrew his hand and looked down at his fingertips. A layer of black powder clung to them, slowly burning in the blue light with a faint hissing sound before disappearing.

"It's a dream." Lu Changsheng stood up, his gaze sweeping over the dense array of chains. "But it's more than just a dream. This place must really exist; we saw this scene using the power of the dice."

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire scene suddenly shattered. Lu Changsheng felt a dizzying sensation, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in his room.

He turned his head and looked to the side.

An Zhiyu was beside him. Her expression was calm, but her face was as white as paper, with fine beads of sweat on her forehead and slightly purple lips, as if she was enduring something uncomfortable.

Her right hand rested on her left, with the back of her left hand facing up. There was a black patch on the back of her hand, as if the blackness was seeping from under her skin and spreading across it at a visible speed.

"Your hand—"

Lu Changsheng reached out to grasp her wrist. The moment his fingers touched her skin, he felt an abnormal temperature.

An Zhiyu didn't flinch or pull her hand back. She simply sat there quietly, watching Lu Changsheng squat down in front of her, examining the black thing on the back of her hand.

"Side effects," An Zhiyu said. "We were lucky to get a 6, which granted us a small set of wishes, but at the cost of one-sixth of our bodies being mutated."

Lu Changsheng looked up at her. "Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt," An Zhiyu said, "but it's a little numb. Like the numbness you get when your hand is asleep and has been pressed down for a long time."

Lu Changsheng lowered his head, carefully examining the black object. He could feel something wriggling, growing, and spreading towards An Zhiyu's arm deep within the black lines. It wasn't fast, but it was resolute, like water flowing downhill, like tree roots digging into the soil.

He extended his right hand, bringing his index and middle fingers together, and a thin wisp of golden spiritual energy gathered at the tip of his finger. The spiritual energy flowed from his fingertip like a golden thread, gently touching the black edge on the back of An Zhiyu's hand.

The moment the spiritual energy came into contact with the blackness, An Zhiyu's fingers trembled violently.

"Does it hurt?" Lu Changsheng asked.

"It's not pain." An Zhiyu frowned slightly. "It's... a thorn. It feels like something is pricking me."

Lu Changsheng did not withdraw his spiritual power, but instead slowly injected it into the black area.

The spiritual energy seeped into the sand like water, into the fog like light, laboriously, slowly, inch by inch. He could feel the black lines repelling his spiritual energy.

Golden light pierced through the black patterns, like a fish swimming upstream, like a knife clearing a path. Wherever it passed, the black patterns trembled slightly, and the speed of its spread slowed noticeably.

Lu Changsheng withdrew his spiritual power and looked at the black thing on An Zhiyu's hand. Although the spread had slowed down, it hadn't stopped. The black lines seemed to have their own will; under the suppression of the golden spiritual power, they only temporarily retreated. As soon as the spiritual power was withdrawn, they began to slowly and tentatively wriggle forward again.

Half an inch. An inch. They crawled toward the wrist, like countless tiny, hungry worms.

Lu Changsheng did not hesitate.

He put his right index finger in his mouth and bit the tip.

The moment the blood gushed out, he didn't even flinch. A bead of blood condensed at his fingertip, and he infused it with spiritual energy. Immediately, a faint golden light appeared on the surface of the bead, like a ignited star.