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

As you go up from the 22nd floor, the musty smell in the hallway gradually fades.

Instead, there was an exceptionally strong smell of ash from burning incense and paper money.

—It's so strong that it feels like every breath you take is covered in sticky incense ash, and when you swallow, you feel a distinct foreign object in your throat.

The three of them suppressed the urge to cough, firmly remembering the first taboo, and did not let Uncle Biao notice anything amiss.

Uncle Biao walked ahead with his hands behind his back, his flat body light and airy.

"Upstairs, there's a communal kitchen, which the tenants pooled their money to set up."

He floated upwards without turning his head, his voice slow and leisurely:

"The pots and pans belong to each family, so you can't just touch them when you're patrolling the buildings. If you break them, the owners will definitely make you pay for them."

Some old ghosts have bad tempers; they might throw boiling water all over you, and I wouldn't be able to help them.

Chen Xi nodded in agreement, her gaze sweeping over the open space at the corner.

It was supposed to be a communal kitchen, but I didn't see any fire being lit.

The higher you go, the stronger the wind gets.

Above the 23rd floor, all the windows were empty, without glass, and a cold wind was blowing in.

Chen Xi felt as if his nostrils were filled with a layer of paper dust.

"The people living up there are all old ghosts, some of whom have been dead for two or three hundred years."

Uncle Biao slowed his pace and lowered his voice:

"Old Ghost has a strange temper and prefers peace and quiet. Don't go to the rooftop when you're patrolling. I won't be responsible if anything happens."

He spoke casually, but the warning was heavy-handed.

They all slowed their pace.

As they passed a door that looked charred, they caught a glimpse of a red light shining through the crack in the door, as if someone was lighting a candle inside.

"Crackling sound—"

Suddenly, a hand with half a fingernail extended from under the door, grabbed the incense ash on the ground, and quickly withdrew it.

Uncle Biao acted as if he hadn't seen anything and walked straight up.

Uncle Biao stopped at the entrance to the rooftop.

A large brass lock hung on the iron gate of the rooftop, looking completely rusted.

Several yellow talismans were wrapped around the door hinge, and the talisman paper had turned black.

"Look, the rooftop isn't a good place to go."

Uncle Biao's tone was serious, no longer as casual as before: "It's locked up, so you don't need to go. Some tenants didn't believe in the superstition before, and after going in, they never came back."

He repeated the instructions twice before turning around and walking downstairs:

"Alright, that's about it. Daytime is your rest time. You'll patrol twice a day, at 1 a.m. and 4 a.m.

During the second patrol, light three incense sticks at the door of each household on each floor, then leave immediately without speaking or lingering.

"This building has 33 floors and 44 households. There aren't that many ghosts. As long as you follow the rules, you'll be fine."

As they went downstairs, Uncle Biao pointed to the plastic bag in Chen Xi's hand:

"They're all here. Use them sparingly. If you lose them, come back to me for a fee."

He paused, then glanced sideways at the group:

"Let me remind you again, in this place, big ghosts eat little ghosts. You newly dead ghosts, don't go out and wander around unless you have to. It's safest to stay in the building."

"If I go out and get caught and eaten by a giant demon, I won't go to rescue me."

After saying that, he waved his hand and floated away, dangling his keychain.

I suppose they went back to the first floor.

The remaining three people stood at the top of the stairs on the seventeenth floor, looking at each other in bewilderment.

"The big demon eats the little demon..."

Jiang Chen frowned, analyzing the situation. "What does he mean by that? Does he think we're 'ghosts' too?"

"It should be an identity setting."

Chen Xi put the incense away. "Our current identity is that of a new security guard. So in the eyes of the original inhabitants, we are no different from the wandering ghosts in the building."

"This building is full of ghosts. The few of us living people who have wandered in here are more like the odd ones out."

Kang Xiaojia was the most timid, and only now did she belatedly realize that her legs were completely weak:

"Uncle Biao looks fierce, but he actually takes good care of us and has explained a lot of rules to us."

"He may offer help, but if something really happens, he definitely won't care about us."

Jiang Chen shook his head. "Let's find a place to stay first. Settle down as soon as possible and get some rest. We have to patrol the buildings again at four in the morning."

Having climbed thirty floors, all he wanted to do was find a place to rest as soon as possible.

The three walked to the end of the corridor, where four subdivided rooms stood side by side. The wooden doors were peeling, and the room numbers were crooked and all reversed.

Lin Jianguo, Wang Lei, and Zheng Wenxuan were all waiting there, their expressions somewhat grim.

……

……

"Captain, they're all doing poorly," Zheng Wenxuan whispered, as if afraid of disturbing something.

"In room 1701, there was a bed with a water ghost lying on it, completely soaked, and constantly muttering to himself."

"There are two beds in room 1702, a family photo is hanging on the wall, and there is a strange smell coming from the kitchen, like sugar water."

"1703 also has two beds. It looks quite clean, with nothing strange about it. Uncle Lin just used his skill to check it out, and this room is the 'cleanest'."

"There are three beds in room 1704, but on the bed closest to the door, there is a blank memorial tablet."

Chen Xi nodded and opened the doors to check each room:

Room 1701 was extremely small, just over two square meters, and a bunk bed was crammed into it.

There's a man lying on his side on the bed below... no, it should be called a male ghost.

It was soaking wet, its hair was dripping water, and its clothes clung tightly to its back.

Water droplets trickled down the edge of the bed, forming a dark brown puddle on the floor.

The ghost's face was turned towards the wall, muttering incoherently, as if coming from underwater:

"It's raining... my grandma told me to go home and make some sugar water... (It's raining, my grandma told me to go home and make some sugar water.)"

"It's raining... I need to go home..."

It's just these few sentences over and over again—like something squeezed out of the chest of a drowning person about to suffocate.

The room was incredibly damp; the paint on the walls was swollen and the air was humid, as if you could automatically grow fish gills the moment you stepped inside.

"Water ghost."

Chen Xi glanced at it only once before leaving, closing the door behind her.

If you choose this room, you'll have to sleep in the same bed as a ghost.

The second room is 1702.

As the door opened, a sweet, savory aroma of syrup wafted out, carrying a hint of ginger. It smelled warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the damp chill of 1701.

The room was a little larger, with a slightly wider bed placed against the wall, separated by a curtain.

On a table less than half a step from the bed, there was a plate of neatly arranged, delicious-looking roasted meat rice cakes.

Since everyone carried the "Thousand-Mile Hunger-Free Pill" with them, they weren't particularly interested in the food in the dungeon.

On the wall directly opposite the door hangs a black and white portrait of a deceased person.

The photo shows a family of three:

The man had dark skin, thick lips, and a very low back—because a sixteen or seventeen-year-old student was riding on his shoulders.

The student was quite tall, so much so that the man's spine bulged out and his head almost reached his chest.

A woman in a white shirt stood to the side, her hand bent backward at an odd angle, the bone protruding from the skin.

The entire photo is distorted in proportion, giving it an indescribable eeriness.

It's like a family of three being forcibly "placed" inside by something.

……

The third room is 1703.

Just as Lin Jianguo had said, the room was clean and tidy, with nothing unusual about it.

There was no portrait, no memorial tablet, no ghost; just two single beds facing each other.

Although there were many old newspapers and miscellaneous items piled up on top, it was like another world compared to the other three rooms.

Lin Jianguo glanced at Chen Xi's retreating figure, feeling somewhat anxious.

He used the skill "Bull's Eye" to look at it.

There was no black smoke in the house; it was a safe house, definitely the safest of the four houses.

He remained outwardly calm, then leaned closer and spoke to Chen Xi:

"This place seems alright to me, nothing weird here, but I wonder if there's anything else going on."

"I think it's great!"

Wang Lei quickly chimed in, seizing the opportunity, "Uncle Lin, these two beds are too cramped, why don't we stay in this room?"

Lin Jianguo pretended to hesitate for two seconds before nodding: "Okay, this is the room. We can squeeze in. Two beds will be just right."

Chen Xi glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Jiang Chen crossed his arms and gave a clearly mocking laugh.

Lin Jianguo didn't think there was anything wrong with him seizing the safe house; after all, everyone looks out for themselves.

……

……

The last room is 1704.

As soon as the door was pushed open, a strong smell of incense and candles wafted out, making people cough.

There were three beds in the room. The bed closest to the door had no bedding and a black wooden memorial tablet stood upright on it.

The memorial tablet was bare, without any name engraved on it.

In front of the memorial tablet was a small bronze incense burner with three burnt-out incense sticks stuck in it.

The incense burner was filled with ash, which means people burn incense there every day.

The other two beds were empty, the bedding was dusty and looked like a place where people could lie down.

"Memorial tablet room".

Lin Jianguo shook his head, his tone tinged with schadenfreude: "The plaque has no inscription, I don't know what deity it represents, but it's probably very fierce. If someone sleeps here, it's like sleeping next to someone else's altar."

Zheng Wenxuan frowned and didn't speak; his expression wasn't good.

After viewing the four rooms, the group retreated to the corridor to discuss their next move.

"Uncle Biao said we can't damage the room facilities, which means we can't mess with the layout."

Lin Jianguo spoke first, sounding very experienced:

"The dungeon won't give you a guaranteed death room right from the start. As long as you follow the rules and don't touch anything you shouldn't, you should be fine."

"Xiao Wang and I live in room 1703. One of us is physically weak, and the other is half-dead."

He made arrangements on his own: "The remaining three rooms are safer for you young people who are physically strong and can handle it. Captain Chen also has a profession, so he's definitely safer than us."

Wang Lei quickly chimed in, "Yes, yes, yes."

The two of them were singing in unison, clearly aiming to claim 1703.

Zheng Wenxuan was honest and didn't say anything.

Jiang Chen, however, didn't care.

Chen Xi didn't argue with him. Her gaze swept over the four doors as she quickly made a mental calculation.

There's a water ghost in room 1701; I don't know how dangerous it is.

The family photo of 1702 shows a family of three. It looks strange because there are many of them, but at least so far they have not shown any strong aggression.

Room 1703 is empty, there are no spirits, it looks the safest.

The 1704 blank memorial tablet is the most unpredictable.

But Chen Xi had a vague feeling that something was wrong.