Rules of Horror: Survival Begins in the Haunted Harem - Chapter 19

Xie Nuange did not join the other palace candidates’ discussion.

The theory that had remained hazy and uncertain in her mind was finally confirmed.

[Rule Two: Palace rules are mandatory for every palace candidate. You must learn them well.]

The survival clue the matron had sold them: learn the rules well.

And the words she had spoken after teaching them the rules on the first day.

“Remember. In the palace, the rules are your life.”

Everything pointed in the same direction.

Yet Jiang Fan’s apparent killing order had led all of them down the wrong path.

They had assumed she was working her way up from Rank Fifteen.

But as Xie Nuange had already realized, if Jiang Fan truly killed her way upward, wouldn’t the highest ranks be doomed?

Deliberately learning the rules poorly and letting one’s rank fall contradicted every other rule. That path led only to death as well.

And moments ago, no one had possessed the slightest power to resist Jiang Fan.

A scenario would not present them with certain death. The path to survival was always hidden in the details.

“Xie Nuange.”

Cheng Luo walked over. “Did you figure something out? Did Jiang Fan change her order?”

Xie Nuange looked up. Liu Feng was already gone.

The crowd around them had dispersed as well. No one wanted to linger in case Jiang Fan doubled back for another victim.

“Jiang Fan doesn’t kill the people who learn the rules well.”

Xie Nuange looked at Cheng Luo. “She kills the ones who don’t.”

“The ones who don’t?”

Cheng Luo murmured the words, then seemed to understand. That was right. No one had ever said that killing upward from Rank Fifteen meant Jiang Fan was targeting those who had learned the rules well.

“So the top ten are safe?”

She patted her chest and let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. That’s a relief.”

Were they truly safe?

Xie Nuange pressed her lips together.

Once the others discovered the truth, those at the bottom would band together and kill the people ahead of them, all for the sake of moving up.

It was only the fourth day, and nearly half the candidates were already dead.

Even more would die over the next three days.

There would be no more clumsy tricks like yesterday’s nameplate swaps.

“Let’s go back. We’re done searching for clues today.”

Xie Nuange strode toward their room. She had activated and inspected skills today, then used another skill on Jiang Fan moments ago. Her mental power was badly overdrawn.

But she had to inspect Jiang Fan’s information.

When her mind was exhausted, their room was the safest place she could be.

Cheng Luo hurried after her, confusion written across her face. “We’re not going to the Cold Palace?”

“Not today.” Xie Nuange did not slow. “You can go if you want.”

Cheng Luo blinked. “What about you?”

“I’m going back to think through the clues.”

Cheng Luo studied her but asked no more questions. She simply followed at Xie Nuange’s side.

Once they reached the room, Xie Nuange went straight to her bed, sat down, and closed her eyes.

Cheng Luo stood by the door for two seconds. When it became clear that Xie Nuange had nothing else to say, she shrugged and left again.

Silence settled over the room.

Xie Nuange took a deep breath and brought out the Divination Coins.

[Divination Coins: When indecision strikes, toss three coins first. If they land heads, receive a 200% buff. If they land tails, why aren’t you running? Uses remaining: 10/15.]

She repeated Jiang Fan’s name silently and tossed the coins.

They spun through the air. One became three, and all three landed heads-up.

[Buff acquired: Success rate +200%.]

[Divination Coins uses remaining: 9/15.]

Xie Nuange put away the coins, focused her thoughts, and began inspecting Jiang Fan’s information.

[Jiang Fan. Palace candidate from Year Three of the Great Qian Dynasty. Died before the final palace selection.]

[I suffered injustice. Now I shall be the one who delivers justice.]

[What she hates most are palace candidates who use their family background to bully others.]

[Once, she was powerless to resist. Now, she holds the executioner’s blade of the rules.]

The sun dipped toward the west.

Zhao Shuang’s luck had been rotten all day.

She had searched all morning, but the candidates ahead of her were packed into groups too tight to crack. As Rank Twenty-Three, she had no chance to make a move.

She spent the afternoon in the archives and found nothing useful there either.

Still simmering with anger, she headed back. Then she caught sight of the pond in the rear courtyard and stopped abruptly.

Someone sat on a stone at the water’s edge.

The woman wore a pale pink palace-candidate dress and was soaked from head to toe. Her small figure hunched forward, head bowed and shoulders trembling as though she were crying.

Zhao Shuang narrowed her eyes and swept her gaze around.

No one else was there.

She lightened her steps and circled over soundlessly on her flowerpot-soled shoes.

“Hey.”

The woman jerked and snapped her head up like a startled rabbit.

Zhao Shuang looked down at her, a smile slowly curling across her lips. “What’s your name? What’s your rank?”

“What business is that of yours?”

Zhao Shuang had been looking for somewhere to vent her anger all day.

The woman in front of her was obviously ranked lower than she was—and looked like the easiest prey imaginable.

“What ghost items do you have?” Zhao Shuang advanced a step. “Hand them over.”

The woman shrank back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Playing dumb?”

Zhao Shuang stared at her for two seconds, then activated her skill.

“You don’t have any ghost items? Fine.”

Skill activated: Inner World.

Within the Inner World, all color drained from heaven and earth, leaving everything in shades of black and white. Here, Zhao Shuang ruled this tiny world.

She failed to notice the look of pure enjoyment on the palace candidate’s face when they entered.

Zhao Shuang walked over and forced the woman’s head beneath the water. Her expression twisted with savage cruelty.

It was as though she had forgotten why she had dragged the woman into the Inner World. All she wanted now was to torture her.

Gurgle, gurgle.

A chain of bubbles broke the surface.

The woman’s hands flailed wildly. Her fingers clutched the edge of the stone steps, nails scraping across them with a piercing screech.

Zhao Shuang counted to five before hauling her back up.

“Hand over your ghost items!”

The woman coughed violently, water pouring from her nose and mouth. Her entire face flushed red, tears mingling with pond water as they streamed down her cheeks.

“I really don’t have any…”

Her voice trembled. She seemed no different from an ordinary person, utterly incapable of fighting back.

Zhao Shuang curled her lip and shoved the woman’s head underwater again.

This time, she held her there longer.

“Give it to me! Hand it over! Give me the hairpin!”

The woman’s struggles weakened. The splashing grew fainter, and her fingers slowly slipped from the edge of the steps.

The red in Zhao Shuang’s eyes deepened. Her expression became increasingly vicious.

At last, the woman lay limp on the steps, gasping for breath, her entire body shaking like a leaf.

Zhao Shuang crouched, seized her by the chin, and turned her face upward. “Give it to me!”

“I really don’t have…”

Then, all at once, the woman stopped trembling.

Her face began to turn toward Zhao Shuang. The movement was slow, as though her neck had rusted solid and could only twist one fraction at a time.

Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, stared straight at her.

Water continued to leak from their corners.

The woman’s lips slowly curved upward.

“What exactly do you want me to hand over?”

Her voice was still thin and soft, but this time it came from every direction.

Zhao Shuang looked down.

The woman’s legs were swelling, little by little. Her palace-candidate dress stretched taut around them, its pale pink fading into a deathly white.

The color of something that had soaked in water for far too long.

Zhao Shuang tried to let go. Yet her hand still gripped the woman’s chin, and the flesh against her palm was becoming cold and slick.

The streaming eyes curved into crescents.

“Is it the ghost items you want—or the hairpin?”

That thin, soft voice came from every direction. From beneath the water. From inside Zhao Shuang’s own mind.

“It is people like you who ruin the rules.”

Zhao Shuang abruptly came to her senses.

The hairpin. Why had she demanded a hairpin?

But she understood too late.

Gurgle.

One final string of bubbles rose to the surface. Then the pond went still.

In the distance, two palace candidates passed by. One stopped and glanced toward the water.

“Wasn’t there someone over here just now?”

Her companion yawned. “No. You must’ve imagined it.”

“Come on. The matron ordered us to assemble.”

The stone by the pond stood empty. Only a white longhua scarf lay there, stirring faintly in the breeze.

Two characters were embroidered into one corner.

Jiang Fan.