Provoking Fire [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 49

“Should we go check other places?”

Realizing they couldn’t glean much more from the item in hand, Chi Yao’s suggestion was readily approved by Chu Xiyue. The two quietly slipped out of the bushes.

After hiding for several minutes, the eerie pursuers had lost their target, and the rustling of the grass gradually subsided. Emerging from their hiding place, they began searching for clues. Following Chi Yao’s lead, who had discovered the item behind a stone statue, they focused their search on similar hidden spots.

During one such search, they encountered the pursuers again, gradually discerning a pattern. Whenever the crisp sound of a bell rang, a swarm of little ghosts would soon emerge. However, these little ghosts weren’t particularly perceptive. The pair had also acquired some useful items, such as the “Vision Talisman,” which allowed them to monitor their health. Being caught or touched by the ghosts would deplete their health, and once it reached zero, they would be forced to log out.

Aside from the pesky little ghosts that obstructed their vision, there were also ghosts with diverse abilities showcasing their supernatural powers. Chu Xiyue and Chi Yao nearly got caught several times. Along the way, they encountered other players, such as the unfortunate Shi Yan. Despite her excellent stamina, she was ambushed by several ghosts using a rotating attack strategy, eventually becoming disoriented and captured.

Zheng Zihong and Huang Lige were also hiding, their movements now appearing particularly comical without Shi Yan’s combat prowess. They cowered and trembled, their fear palpable.

Meanwhile, Bei Yaoyao had become separated from the group. The prop she had been carrying earlier had somehow ended up in Huang Lige’s possession—whether through trickery or by obtaining an identical item remained unclear.

Chu Xiyue and Chi Yao continued to evade capture together, darting from place to place. Midway through their escape, they nearly tripped over a trap. Just then, two shadowy figures flickered behind a rockery, startling Chu Xiyue, who immediately pulled Chi Yao back.

An eerie spider had spun a web, hanging itself from a tree and spitting out sticky white silk. Chu Xiyue barely dodged the web, but felt a sudden chill on her head as something else dropped down.

“Chuchu!”

Chi Yao, now trapped behind her, called out in alarm.

Chu Xiyue used her prop peachwood sword to knock the debris off herself and turned to rescue Chi Yao. But someone moved faster, seizing Chi Yao’s sleeve and yanking her out of the way.

Chi Yao stumbled, looked up, and saw Su Yan.

The woman’s beauty was already sharp enough to freeze the heart, but the crimson robes she wore made her resemble a bl00d-soaked blade hanging over the heart, radiating a chilling, domineering aura.

Su Yan used a long peachwood sword to strike down the falling debris, sparing Chi Yao further humiliation. Yet Chi Yao couldn’t shake off her unease, especially when Chu Xiyue saw Su Yan and her face lit up with genuine surprise and joy. Chu Xiyue’s pace quickened as she jogged toward them, nearly colliding with Su Yan before being steadied.

“Do you have a Vision Talisman? Want to check if you’ve lost any health?”

“Not much,” Su Yan replied, her own crudely made peachwood sword looking surprisingly cool in her hands. “I found some props on the way and even spotted a Clear Heart Lamp, but we can’t take it with us. We have to go there.”

Hearing about the Clear Heart Lamp, Chu Xiyue’s face lit up with overwhelming joy, as if she had glimpsed a glimmer of hope.

“Should we go there now?”

“It’s quite a distance, and the journey is dangerous,” Su Yan replied. “But Zheng Zihong, Bei Yaoyao, and I encountered it. The lamp requires three people to test it. There’s an undercover agent inside, who will make the lamp glow red. Ours lit up.”

A glowing Clear Heart Lamp meant one of them was an undercover agent. Chu Xiyue and Chi Yao stared in stunned silence before Su Yan added:

“I’m definitely not the agent, but I can’t speak for the other two.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Chi Yao, who had just caught her breath, smirked slightly, her dark eyes radiating intense disbelief. Yet Chu Xiyue took her words seriously, pondering aloud:

“Oh, now that you mention it, I have noticed Bei Yaoyao acting a bit strange. She’s so timid, always trying to avoid group activities.” She turned to Su Yan, after all, Su Yan had initially been in their group. “Do you think Bei Yaoyao could be the undercover agent? But Xiao Bei doesn’t seem particularly competitive usually…”

Chu Xiyue muttered softly, “If that were the case, wouldn’t she have surrendered immediately?”

As Chu Xiyue was still wrestling with her thoughts, Chi Yao let out a strange chuckle, so quiet it was almost inaudible. Yet Chu Xiyue, standing beside her, still caught the sound. Seizing the moment while Su Yan was searching nearby, Chi Yao hooked her arm around Chu Xiyue’s and pulled her aside, saying in a tone of exasperation:

“Chuchu, how can you trust your partner so blindly? What if she’s lying to you?”

“Are you stupid? I’d know if she was lying to me,” Chu Xiyue retorted.

Chi Yao was immediately torn between laughter and tears.

She gazed at Chu Xiyue’s bright, sparkling eyes, framed by thick, curled lashes that made her eyes appear deep and captivating. Yet this beauty was lost on Chi Yao, who saw only a friend blinded by infatuation. The sight reminded her of the rumors swirling around Chu Xiyue and Su Yan.

In the entertainment industry, manufactured publicity was commonplace. As long as two people weren’t sworn enemies, they could easily be portrayed as a loving couple on screen.

Chi Yao had staged romances with both men and women—relationships forged solely for mutual benefit, quickly dissolved once their purpose was served. Behind the scenes, there was virtually no personal interaction; after all, acting lovey-dovey for the cameras was exhausting enough.

Chu Xiyue had often complained to Chi Yao about Su Yan, calling her rigid, inflexible, and incapable of adapting to changing circumstances. At first, Chi Yao, like most others, assumed their collaboration was temporary. After all, she knew her friend’s personality well—there was no way Chu Xiyue could ever fall for someone so wooden.

But now, it seemed…

There might be a chance to melt even the hardest heart.

Chi Yao’s eyes darkened.

She wanted to argue, to prove Su Yan might be lying, but Chu Xiyue waved her off, signaling her to stop. Sensing the strange tension between them, Chu Xiyue’s tone brightened:

“Let’s go look for another Clear Heart Lamp. Didn’t the old man say they were scattered all over this place? We’re bound to find one if we search.”

Then they’d see who was right and who was wrong.

Of course, Chu Xiyue hadn’t forgotten how Su Yan had opposed her during the Werewolf game, skillfully twisting truth and falsehood. Precisely because she knew how formidable Su Yan was, she dared not trust her easily, nor reveal the slightest vulnerability in her presence.

This game was essentially similar to Werewolf, though it lacked the same level of logical deduction. Still, it involved plenty of psychological maneuvering and strategic interplay.

Knowing she wasn’t the mole, Chu Xiyue naturally focused her attention on the two people beside her.

“Fine,” Chi Yao said, shrugging helplessly despite her lingering annoyance. She continued exploring the ancient town with them. The town covered a vast area, with numerous obstacles obstructing their view and pursuers frequently charging out from hidden corners.

The three of them eventually ran until they were gasping for breath. Spotting a small, unoccupied house, Chu Xiyue immediately vaulted through the window to evade the gaze of the little ghost that had been chasing them. Lacking any potions of her own, she had to rely on a sip from Su Yan’s flask to barely maintain her bloodline’s health.

When Chi Yao caught up, her weaker stamina nearly caused her to lose them. Chu Xiyue had to stop and wait for her. Gritting her teeth, Chi Yao pushed herself forward, her ragged breathing filling the air as she collapsed onto the table, her delicate brows furrowed tightly. It was clear she was nearing her physical limit.

Chu Xiyue didn’t want to abandon Su Yan, so she suggested they rest where they were.

“But these are just small houses,” Su Yan countered, “the ghosts could easily surround us, you know?”

Su Yan’s rare rebuttal, even adding a playful “you know” at the end—a departure from her usual reserved tone—hinted at a hidden schadenfreude.

Having known Su Yan for so long, Chu Xiyue was seeing this side of her for the first time. Yet Su Yan’s subtle mischief and stubbornness remained concealed in the details. Without careful observation, her words could easily be mistaken for genuine concern, with no trace of glee in her eyes or expression.

Throughout their desperate escape, even the most oblivious person would have noticed the tension between Su Yan and Chi Yao. To Chu Xiyue, they felt like her own left and right hands locked in conflict—she couldn’t take sides, nor could she completely ignore the conflict, leaving her caught in the middle.

After a moment’s hesitation, Miss Chu ultimately decided to side with Chi Yao. After all, a friend was still a friend, unlike Su Yan. Without time to ponder the true nature of her relationship with Su Yan, instinct took over, and she dragged Su Yan into another room.

“Su Yan, do you have a problem with her?”

“Hmm? What makes you say that?”

I didn’t realize she’d learned to play coy.

“You know exactly what I mean! When you were running earlier, you deliberately sped up at least twice and changed your route once. She almost couldn’t keep up—mmph!”

Before Chu Xiyue could finish, Su Yan clamped her hand over her mouth, abruptly pulling her into a soft, fragrant embrace. The familiar light scent lingered on her skin, but there was something different this time—a fresher, crisper fragrance, like daisies blooming in the winter night.

With her hand still covering Chu Xiyue’s mouth, Su Yan tugged her deeper into the room, opened a wardrobe, and squeezed inside. The moonlight streaming through the window cast long, ethereal shadows across the silent room, leaving only their hushed breaths rising and falling, deliberately suppressed to a whisper.

A colossal ghostly shadow loomed at the doorway, inching closer from the window. Su Yan had closed the wardrobe door behind them, leaving no trace of their presence, making it seem as if the room were empty.

Only they could feel each other’s racing heartbeats and quickened breaths, the only sounds in the suffocating darkness.