I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

At the end of the Song Dynasty, he casually handed the talisman to A-Yan, who was very interested, and casually threw the bamboo stick into the trash can.

She came here tonight to see the "excitement" the rat servant was talking about.

Spending all his time holed up in his rented room writing scripts and revising rules, Song Mo felt like his brain was going to freeze.

Why not come out and check the current situation, and also keep up with the official progress so that we can adjust the release schedule for subsequent dungeons?

Among the surrounding crowd, the largest group consisted of people doing live streaming.

Every two steps she took, she would see a live streamer holding a selfie stick, talking non-stop to the camera.

……

"Family members, follow me so you don't get lost! The streamer is currently outside the warning line of the Jiangcheng Taiping Cemetery instance, at the very front line."

Today, let's take a look at what the legendary supernatural dungeon actually looks like!

The outdoor livestreamer, wearing a windbreaker, spoke loudly, waving his phone camera at the distant police tape.

"Want to see what's inside the dungeon? Send a rocket! Streamers, find the highest spot to film it!"

Beside him was a livestreamer who claimed to be a "folklore expert" and a "master of metaphysics".

They sat on small stools and told the camera about the history of Taiping Cemetery.

Of course, only they themselves know how many of those ghost stories are true and how many are embellished.

Besides the anchor, there were also reporters carrying cameras.

Local, out-of-town, and even foreign media—everyone was scrambling to dig up firsthand news about the dungeon.

Unfortunately, the cordon was set up far away, and the Special Investigations Bureau staff prohibited unauthorized personnel from approaching.

So they could only shoot some outdoor footage from a distance, interview a few onlookers, and put together a news article.

……

……

"Oh, little sister, let me tell you something."

The stall owner chatted with Song Mo while flipping the sausages:

"I've only been running this stall for half a month, but I've already earned more than I did in the previous six months when I opened my shop."

"There are so many people every day, and they don't leave until late at night. Many people drive from other places just to catch a glimpse of the ghost bus."

"Of course not, it's not that easy to wait for. Anyway, I've never seen one."

The woman selling water nearby chimed in: "Nobody used to come to this place, and the property prices plummeted so much that nobody wanted it."

Look at it now, all the surrounding land has been fenced off. I heard they're going to build some kind of 'paranormal-themed industrial park,' and the property prices have already gone up by more than 8,000 yuan per square meter!

Following their words, Song Mo looked into the distance.

Indeed, the wasteland outside the cordon was surrounded by blue construction fences.

A sign on the metal sheet reads "Construction Area, No Entry".

Construction lights were on inside, and construction teams were going in and out.

Capital always has the keenest nose.

As soon as the dungeon appeared, many people had already set their sights on this undeveloped land with immense potential.

Although this group doesn't dare to openly touch the restricted area, the surrounding land has already been snapped up like crazy.

Although the property rights of Taiping Cemetery have long been nationalized, the authorities do not seem to intend to stop the surrounding civilian land use as long as it is compliant.

In just a few days, this desolate wilderness has taken on the appearance of developing into a new business district.

……

……

"Here it comes! Another car is coming!"

Suddenly, someone in the crowd shouted, their voice filled with excitement.

The people who were originally gathered in twos and threes suddenly sprang into action, crowding towards the cordon and craning their necks to look at the end of the road.

"What kind of car is it?"

"What else could it be but rich people wanting to get into the dungeon! This is the third wave this week!"

"Wow, this is huge! What kind of cars are these? I can't recognize a single one!"

At the end of the Song Dynasty, he followed suit, looking up like an ordinary citizen joining in the fun.

At the end of the road, a convoy of cars was slowly approaching, their headlights dazzlingly bright.

……

……

The convoy slowly drove in from the end of the asphalt road, its grandeur was simply astonishing.

At the front were two black Mercedes-Benz G-Class cars, their bodies covered with dark explosion-proof film and bearing special license plates.

In the middle are two Maybach S680s with gleaming paint, top-of-the-line custom models.

At the end of the convoy were three silver-gray Mercedes-Benz Sprinter modified ambulances.

The vehicle had no hospital markings on it, and the windows were completely black, so you couldn't see inside.

The medical equipment indicator lights on the roof were glowing faintly, and the tires were wider than those of a regular car, suggesting it was a specially modified bulletproof and explosion-proof model.

The cost of modifying this car alone is enough to buy an apartment in the most prosperous area of ​​Jiangcheng.

But in Song Mo's eyes, who didn't know much about luxury cars, it was probably like this:

A car that looks expensive, a car that looks expensive, and an ambulance that looks black.

The convoy came to a steady stop outside the cordon, and the car doors opened almost simultaneously.

Surrounded by bodyguards, several people got out of two Maybachs:

A gray-haired man and a mature, composed lawyer, both carrying briefcases and dressed in impeccably tailored suits.

Several medical experts in white coats, all at least in their early forties, and a middle-aged man with a gloomy face.

Finally, the rear door of the ambulance slowly opened, and the lifting platform slowly descended.

A custom-made electric wheelchair appeared before everyone, with a gaunt, ghost-like old man sitting on it.

The old man's name is Lu Bingkun. He made his fortune in real estate and is one of the top ten richest people on the China Rich List.

It's fair to say that his net worth is just a meaningless string of numbers to him.

He was wearing a silk hospital gown, with a navy blue cashmere shawl wrapped around it, and on his thin, bony fingers was a jade thumb ring with a green patina.

The old man had little flesh on his face, high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and a sallow complexion like a dead man.

His eyes still held a fierce edge, and he always looked at people without any emotion, carrying a sense of oppression that came from a lifetime of navigating the business world.

……

……

"Cough cough cough."

The old man was terminally ill and had difficulty speaking. He coughed with all his might, his whole body trembling, and pointed ahead with his withered fingers.

The private doctor next to him immediately stepped forward and handed him a silk handkerchief.

"Dad, I understand what you mean."

A middle-aged man stepped forward, bent down to tuck the old man's shawl under his arm, and said respectfully, "I'll go negotiate."

The old man didn't even lift his eyelids, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the police line with his usual condescending attitude.

……

The crowd was stunned, their whispers barely audible yet rising and falling.

"Who is this? Their entourage is huge!"

"You don't know Lu Bingkun? He's a real estate tycoon in our country. Half of the buildings in Jiangcheng were built by his family. He's worth billions, no, at least tens or hundreds of billions!"

"That's a whopping number of zeros! He's so rich, why would he even want to enter a dungeon?"

"What kind of illness is this? Money can't cure it?"

"Anyone who eats grains and cereals will get sick. Judging from his appearance, he's probably not far from death. Having money is useless now, so he can only gamble on dungeons."

"No wonder it's such a grand affair. If I had that much money, I wouldn't want to die either."

"So much money... I'd be happy with just a few million, let alone half."

The Lu family members could clearly hear the gasps and envy from the crowd, but their faces remained expressionless.

Lu Bingkun struggled to breathe, his cloudy eyes filled with a desperate yearning for life.

He has everything he could ever want in his life.

He has enjoyed everything: money, power, and a house full of children and grandchildren.

But the more this happened, the more reluctant he became to die.

If he were decades younger, he might have been able to face it calmly, but now—why did God let him die like this?

He was not reconciled.

He is not willing!

Two weeks ago, he started using his connections to find people in the Special Investigations Bureau.

They searched from Beijing to Jiangcheng, pouring money into the city, but couldn't break through any barriers.

He came here in person today to demonstrate his determination to the authorities.

……

……

The middle-aged man, accompanied by his lawyer, walked to the police cordon and spoke arrogantly to the officers on duty:

"We are a delegation from the Lu's Group and would like to meet with your representative. Please inform them."

The police officer remained expressionless, without even blinking.

"Excuse me, this is a restricted area. Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to approach. Please leave immediately."

"Unrelated personnel?"

The middle-aged man chuckled, his tone tinged with impatience, "Do you know how many government cooperation projects the Lu family has in Jiangcheng, no, throughout the country? How many public welfare funds does it handle? And how much tax does it pay every year?"

"We're preparing to donate 200 million to the Special Investigation Bureau for research funding. Now we want to meet with your on-site supervisor. Are you considered an unrelated party?"

Before the police officer could speak, a person walked out from inside the police cordon.

Chen Xi was dressed in a black training uniform, his posture upright, and the epaulets on his shoulders gleamed.

"I am Chen Xi from the Special Investigations Bureau's Operations Division."

She stood inside the police cordon, her gaze sweeping over the group, and asked in a calm, measured tone, "What can I do for you?"

The middle-aged man sized her up, and seeing her youth, a hint of disdain flashed in his eyes:

"I am Yu Jianming from the Yu Group. My father, Yu Bingkun, wants to enter the Taiping Cemetery dungeon."

We've already submitted the relevant application... Two hundred million, donated to the Special Investigations Bureau for research funding, in exchange for one additional slot.

Chen Xi listened without any change in expression:

"The Taiping Cemetery replica is a Level 1 controlled area. Without orders from higher authorities, no one may enter without authorization."

For donations, please follow the proper procedures and contact the relevant departments. I do not have the authority to approve them.

Please leave the restricted area so as not to disrupt our normal operations.

—If money could really open the door to the Special Investigations Bureau, she wouldn't need to be the section chief anymore.

Instead of communicating with the Special Investigation Bureau, the other party blocked the entrance to the instance, seemingly having exhausted all their options.

Lu Jianming's face darkened.

His first reaction wasn't that Chen Xi was rigid-minded, but rather that he subconsciously felt the Special Investigation Bureau wanted more.

A donation of 200 million yuan, and the other party didn't leave any room for maneuver at all?

"Young people shouldn't speak too confidently."

Lu Jianming's tone turned cold:

"Our CEO Zhou doesn't have much time left. If his treatment is delayed, can you take responsibility for that?"

"I am a soldier, and I obey orders." Chen Xi's tone remained calm and unyielding. "Rules are rules, everyone please leave."

The old man, sitting in his wheelchair, could hear the entire conversation between the two men clearly.

He coughed twice and gestured to his bodyguard.

Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward and gently pushed his wheelchair to the edge of the cordon.

At the end of the Song Dynasty, people stood on tiptoe to look.

Upon closer inspection, the elderly man's ill appearance was clearly visible.

His eyes were sunken, his skin was loose and drooping, yet he exuded a sense of oppressive authority from someone who had long held a high position.

He raised his eyelids, glancing sideways at Chen Xi, his eyes filled with his usual contemptuous indifference—

It seems that in his eyes, he and "ordinary people" are no longer the same species.

Chen Xi stood there, not retreating an inch.

……

……

"Tch, this group won't be able to get in either."

Some onlookers waved their hands, pouting as they shared gossip with Song Mo:

"So many people have tried to go in this week, but none of them have succeeded. They say there's a ghost bus, and we've been keeping watch here every day, but we've never seen it. We've only heard that some people have gone in!"

"No matter if you're rich or powerful, they just won't let you in. They say people will die if they go in."

"So even if I want to, it's not allowed?"

"That definitely won't work..."

"Hey, does that...you know...that weird bus even exist?"

some.

At the end of the Song Dynasty, he looked up and saw a thick fog suddenly rising along the river.

I don't know when, but fog rolled in.