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

There's no turning back.

There is absolutely no turning back.

Weng Yang gritted his teeth, took another step forward, and even deliberately sped up his pace.

But the footsteps behind him quickened.

"Pat-pat, pat, pat!"

"Plop, plop..."

The footsteps grew closer, louder, and more urgent.

The heavy, beast-like breathing was right next to her ear, and the stench was almost hitting the back of her neck.

It was sticky, like the slime on a dead fish.

Weng Yang's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to explode, and he felt so suffocated that he couldn't breathe.

She stared intently ahead, not daring to blink.

She could feel that the thing was already behind her.

Just as Weng Yang thought the thing was about to pounce, the footsteps suddenly veered off course.

A dark shadow slowly passed by her side.

Weng Yang's pupils suddenly contracted.

She saw it.

It was a corpse.

A corpse, swollen from being soaked in water, that had become gigantic.

It was swollen like a fully inflated balloon, its skin stretched and shiny, with an eerie grayish-green hue.

The corpse's facial features were squeezed together, its eyelids were turned outwards, and its lips were swollen.

A purplish-black tongue dangled out, dripping murky mucus, making it look like a large toad.

Its body was covered with dark green water plants, hanging out in tufts, and clumps of black silt stuck to it.

With each step, a piece of rotten flesh fell off the corpse, splattering onto the muddy ground with a "plop," leaving behind a pool of foul-smelling pus.

It was barefoot, its feet swollen like steamed buns, its black toenails curled up.

It didn't even glance at Weng Yang.

Or rather, it seems as if it cannot see Weng Yang.

The corpse simply walked heavily, step by step, toward the pavilion in the middle of the lake.

with a clear purpose.

Weng Yang's mind went blank, as if he had been hit by a heavy hammer.

wrong.

None of them are correct.

Everyone assumed that people carrying candles around the artificial lake would be in danger and would be targeted by water ghosts.

Besides not being allowed to turn back, the task also included: ensuring the candles didn't go out.

There are candles in the pavilion in the middle of the lake!

They all overlooked this point!

Weng Yang suddenly realized:

Candles are amulets; only the person holding the candle is safe!

The water ghost's real target was those people in the pavilion in the middle of the lake who were not protected by candles!

Once the candle in the pavilion in the middle of the lake burns out, the five unarmed people inside will all become the prey of the water ghost!

The danger of this mission lies not in the fog, but in the pavilion in the middle of the lake!

She could even feel the water around the pavilion in the middle of the lake subtly boiling.

Upon closer inspection, beneath the churning water were human faces, pale and swollen from being submerged.

Each corpse had its mouth open, huddled together like goldfish begging for food.

"not good!"

Weng Yang gave a low shout, no longer caring about her walking posture. She clutched the candle tightly to her chest and ran back.

"Run! Get out of the pavilion! The water ghost went to the pavilion!"

"Jasmine! Jasmine! Light the candles!"

"Get out of here!!"

Weng Yang shouted with all her might, her voice echoing in the mist, but strangely, no matter how loudly she shouted, there was no response from inside the pavilion.

The thick fog acted like heavy soundproofing material, completely swallowing her voice.

The people in the pavilion remained standing there, seemingly oblivious to her shouts and the unusual movements on the water around the pavilion.

The candlelight in the pavilion flickered, as if it might go out at any moment.

Countless pale faces gathered beneath the water in the pavilion.

Zhao Weilai and his accomplices were completely unaware of this.

Weng Yang's heart sank to the bottom.

No.

She gritted her teeth, running until her lungs felt like they were going to explode; the cold wind rushed into her throat, cutting like a knife.

The water ghost was not far in front of her, moving step by step with a clear goal in mind.

A human and a ghost, running in the same direction, embark on a silent race.

Weng Yang ran until his shoes were filled with mud, and he slipped several times, almost falling into the lake.

But she held the candle in her hand carefully, and although the flame flickered, it never went out.

Nearly.

closer.

Weng Yang could already see the outline of the pavilion, and he could see several figures inside, still craning their necks and waiting.

The water ghost has already stepped onto the Nine-Bend Bridge.

The wooden planks creaked and groaned under its weight.

With each step it takes, the bridge sways.

"Get out of the pavilion quickly!"

Weng Yang roared and charged forward with all his might.

The water ghost had almost reached the pavilion entrance.

It raised its swollen hand, just as it was about to step into the pavilion in the middle of the lake—

"Get out of the way!"

Weng Yang rushed into the pavilion and shoved Ding Feifan, who was blocking his way, aside.

She almost stumbled to the stone table, holding up the candle, which was now only half-burnt—

With a "whoosh," the ever-burning candle, which was almost extinguished, suddenly blazed brightly again.

The green halo instantly expanded, enveloping the entire pavilion.

The water ghost touched the edge of the halo, let out a low, murky growl, and turned to retreat into the thick fog.

The heads that had been floating on the water slowly sank, their pupil-less eyes staring straight at the surface.

……

Weng Yang leaned against the stone table, panting heavily, his lungs burning with pain.

Sweat mixed with mist streamed down her forehead, soaking her back completely.

The people around were all baffled.

"Careful...careful with the candles..." Weng Yang gasped for breath. Before he could finish speaking, the familiar ink-wash characters reappeared:

[Player Weng Yang has completed the "Strange Tales: The Lake Ghost" challenge.]

Player Weng Yang has left the instance "High School Ghost Stories".

The words flashed by, and Weng Yang's figure began to become transparent.

She disappeared.

……

……

The six people remaining in the pavilion were dumbfounded.

They had only seen Weng Yang suddenly rush into the pavilion from the thick fog, shove Ding Feifan aside, his face full of terror, as if he were being chased by something horrible.

Before the group could even ask her what had happened, she was teleported away.

—As if she had never existed.

On the stone table, the white candle that Weng Yang brought back still glowed with a green light.

The group looked at each other, their eyes filled with shock and lingering fear.

"She...she cleared the game?" Zhao Weilai was the first to react, his voice trembling. "She...she's gone just like that?"

"They've been teleported out of the instance, haven't they?" Ding Feifan swallowed hard, glancing at the ever-burning candle on the stone table. Remembering Weng Yang's warning to "be careful with the candles," his heart skipped a beat.

Be careful with candles?

What does "翁阳" mean?

Is there something wrong with the candle?

He raised the candle and looked out of the pavilion.

The lake remained calm, but there were a few wet, muddy footprints on the cement ground in front of the pavilion.

The footprints were large, swollen, and deformed—they could not possibly have been left by Weng Yang.

The footprints stretched from the other side of the bridge and stopped at the entrance of the pavilion.

Ding Feifan's heart sank instantly.

Just now... something followed Weng Yang here?

The group huddled together in the middle of the pavilion, waiting for Weng Yang to return, completely unaware that the ghost was just a step away.

"What...what are these footprints?" Liu Guilan saw them too, her face turning pale instantly. "Why are they so big? And they're wet..."

No one answered, but the answer was obvious.

It's a water ghost.

The water ghost just passed by.

It stood just a step away from the pavilion, staring at them greedily and longingly.

……

"So, the person holding the candle will be chased by the water ghost?"

Zhao Weilai trembled all over, tears welling up in his eyes: "If we hadn't escaped the water ghost, would we... would we have died here?"

"Alright, everyone, don't panic."

Ding Feifan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Weng Yang has already proven that as long as the mission is completed, we can leave this place. Since the candle is the key..."

He pointed to the stone table: "There are two candles left. Let's hurry, who's next?"

After he finished speaking, there was another silence.

Weng Yang's experience was just a reminder that as long as you hold a candle, you're facing a water ghost—

But once the mission is completed, you can be teleported away and return to reality.

To be honest, nobody knows what dangers lie ahead, but whoever leaves first will be safe first.

Those who remain will continue to face the threat of the water ghosts.

Deng Ziwen gritted his teeth and reached for the second candle first: "NIO, you're second."

Zhao Weilai loves sports and runs five kilometers every day without fail, so the short distance around the lake is nothing to her.

"Ziwen!" Zhao Weilai grabbed his hand and shook his head. "Let Aunt Liu go first."

She looked at Liu Guilan and said sincerely, "Auntie, you are getting old, and we are worried about you staying here."

This task carries some risk, but as long as we follow the rules, everything should be fine.

You can go second. Ziwen and I can always find another spot to take photos.

Liu Guilan was stunned; she hadn't expected Zhao Weilai to let her have her way.

She was just thinking that since she was just running with a candle, she should be able to avoid any trouble if she ran fast enough.

She just didn't know how to ask for a second spot.

Now that Zhao Weilai has voluntarily given up the opportunity, she feels a little embarrassed.

"This...this is too much trouble." Liu Guilan rubbed her hands, her face slightly flushed. "You young people go ahead, I'm not in a hurry."

"Auntie, please don't refuse." Zhao Weilai stuffed the candle into her hand. "If it weren't for you last night, Ziwen and I would have been in trouble long ago."

"I just did it on a whim..."

Liu Guilan held the cold candle, hesitated for a moment, and wanted to say something.

Finally, she looked at Zhao Weilai, then at Deng Ziwen, her lips moved, but she managed to utter only one sentence:

"Good children... thank you... Auntie will remember your kindness."

She knew she had gotten the better deal, but she also genuinely wanted to get out of there alive.

Her parents and son were waiting for her to come home.

Liu Guilan didn't even dare to think about how heartbroken her family would be if she died here without a proper body, leaving nothing for her parents and son.

……

"Since you've made up your mind, Auntie will be the second one to go. Auntie Liu, please remember that."

Ding Feifan solemnly instructed, "No matter what you hear or feel on the road, don't look back."

You must protect the candle in your hand; you absolutely cannot let it go out, understand?

"Okay, I've got it. If I really encounter a water ghost, I'll come back and warn you right away."

Liu Guilan nodded, clutched the lit candle tightly in her hand, took a deep breath, and stepped into the thick fog.

Her figure quickly melted into the mist, leaving only a sliver of green candlelight moving slowly within it.

Now there are five people left in the pavilion: Deng Ziwen, Zhao Weilai, Ding Feifan, Tan Moli, and Fu Qinqin, who has not expressed much opinion.

There's one last candle left.

Everyone was quiet.

Deng Ziwen wanted to let Zhao Weilai leave—but he had already let Liu Guilan go first, so it wouldn't be right to rush Zhao Weilai to leave now.

Ding Feifan also wanted to leave, but as a teacher, he felt embarrassed to compete with his students.

Tan Moli lowered her head, feeling both longing and unease.

She was in poor health, and at least Weng Yang could put her mind at ease. Now that Weng Yang had teleported away, she dared not walk alone.

Silence spread through the pavilion, as pungent as the lake water.