Song Mo casually handed the talisman paper to A'yan, who was highly interested, and tossed her bamboo skewer into the trash can.
She had come tonight to watch the “spectacle” the Mouse Servant had mentioned.
Spending day after day cooped up in her rental writing scripts and revising rules, Song Mo felt as if her brain were starting to stagnate.
It was better to come out and see the current state of things, and while she was at it, follow up on the official progress so she could adjust the release rhythm of subsequent Instances.
Among the surrounding crowd, the largest group consisted of livestreamers.
Every two steps, she would see a streamer holding a selfie stick, talking incessantly to the camera.
...
“My friends, hit that follow button so you don't get lost! Your host is currently right outside the cordon of Jiangcheng's Taiping Cemetery Instance, at the very front line. Today, I'll show you all what the legendary supernatural Instance actually looks like!”
The outdoor streamer in a windbreaker shouted loudly, waving his phone camera toward the distant cordon:
“If you want to see what it's like inside the Instance, send a rocket! I'll find the highest spot to film from in a bit!”
Next to him were other streamers carrying titles like “Folklore Expert” and “Metaphysics Master.”
Sitting on small folding stools, they explained the history of Taiping Cemetery to their cameras.
Of course, only they knew how many of those ghost stories were true and how many had been embellished.
Besides streamers, there were also reporters carrying video cameras.
Local, out-of-town, and even foreign media—everyone was racking their brains to dig up firsthand news about the Instance.
Unfortunately, the cordon was set far back, and the Special Investigation Bureau staff prohibited unauthorized personnel from approaching.
Thus, they could only shoot external footage from a distance and interview a few onlookers to cobble together a news draft.
...
“Oh, little sister, let me tell you.”
The stall owner chatted with Song Mo while flipping grilled sausages:
“I've only had this stall set up for half a month, but I've earned more than I did running my shop for half a year. With so many people here every day, they don't disperse until past midnight. Many even drive all the way from other cities just to catch a glimpse of the ghost bus.”
“You're telling me. It's not that easy to wait for. Anyway, I haven't seen it once.”
A woman selling water nearby chimed in: “In the past, not even a ghost would come to this place, and housing prices dropped so low that nobody wanted them. Look at it now—all the surrounding land has been cordoned off. I heard they're going to build some “Supernatural-Themed Industrial Park.” Housing prices have already gone up by over eight thousand yuan per square meter!”
Song Mo looked into the distance following their conversation.
Indeed, the wasteland outside the cordon was surrounded by blue construction fences.
Signs reading “Construction Area, No Entry” were pasted on the sheet metal.
Engineering lights shone inside, with construction crews moving in and out.
Capital always has the sharpest nose.
As soon as the Instance appeared, many people had already set their eyes on this undeveloped land of endless potential.
Although these people didn't dare touch the containment zone on the surface, the surrounding land had already been snapped up in a frenzy.
Even though the ownership of Taiping Cemetery had long been nationalized, the authorities didn't seem to plan on stopping them from buying the surrounding civilian land, as long as it complied with regulations.
In just a few short days, this barren wilderness had actually taken on the momentum of developing into a new business district.
...
“They're here, they're here! More cars are coming!”
Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted, their voice filled with excitement.
The people who had been gathered in small groups instantly mobilized, squeezing toward the cordon in unison, standing on their tiptoes to peer down the end of the road.
“What kind of cars?”
“What else could it be? Rich folks wanting to enter the Instance again! This is the third wave this week!”
“Holy crap, that's a massive lineup! What kind of cars are those? I don't recognize a single one!”
Song Mo also looked up, like an ordinary citizen joining in on the fun.
At the end of the road, a fleet of vehicles was slowly driving over, their headlights blindingly bright.
...
The motorcade slowly drove over from the end of the asphalt road, its scale truly staggering.
At the very front were two black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagons with dark explosion-proof film on their windows and special transit license plates on their grilles.
Following in the middle were two gleaming Maybach S680s, top-tier custom models.
At the rear of the motorcade were three silver-gray, modified Mercedes-Benz Sprinter ambulances.
There were no hospital logos on the bodies, and the windows were completely blacked out, making it impossible to see inside.
The medical equipment indicator lights on the roofs emitted a faint glow, and the tires were a notch wider than normal, likely custom-fitted bulletproof and explosion-proof models.
The modification cost for just one of these vehicles was enough to buy an apartment in Jiangcheng's most bustling district.
—But in the eyes of Song Mo, who knew little about luxury cars, it looked roughly like this:
Vehicles that looked very expensive, vehicles that looked expensive, and what looked like black ambulances.
The motorcade came to a steady halt outside the cordon, and the car doors opened almost simultaneously.
Escorted by bodyguards, several people stepped out of the two Maybachs:
a white-haired gentleman and a mature, steady lawyer, both carrying briefcases and dressed in meticulous custom suits.
Several medical experts in white coats, all at least in their early forties, and a somber-faced middle-aged man.
Finally, the rear doors of an ambulance slowly slid open, and a lift platform descended.
A custom electric wheelchair appeared before everyone, carrying a withered, ghostly old man.
The old man was named Lu Bingkun, who made his fortune in real estate and was one of the top ten wealthiest individuals on the Huaxia Rich List.
For him, net worth was truly nothing more than a meaningless string of numbers.
He wore silk hospital pajamas wrapped in a navy blue cashmere shawl, with a green-tinted jade thumb ring on one of his skeletal knuckles.
There was barely any flesh on his face; his cheekbones protruded sharply, his eyes were deeply sunken, and his complexion was a corpse-like sallow yellow.
Yet his eyes still held a ruthless glint. When he looked at people, they were always devoid of emotion, carrying the oppressive aura cultivated from a lifetime of navigating the business world.
...
“Cough, cough, cough.”
Already terminally ill, the old man found it difficult even to speak. He coughed with all his might, his entire body trembling as he pointed a skeletal finger forward.
His personal doctor immediately stepped forward, handing him a silk handkerchief.
“Father, I understand what you mean.”
The middle-aged man nearby took a step forward, bending down to tuck in the old man's shawl, and said respectfully, “I'll go negotiate.”
The old man didn't even raise his eyelids, his gaze sweeping faintly over the cordon with his habitual condescension.
...
The onlookers had long been stunned, their whispered discussions low but rising and falling in waves.
“Who is that? What an incredibly grand display.”
“You don't know Lu Bingkun? He's a real estate giant in our country. Half the housing developments in Jiangcheng were built by his family. He's worth billions—no, tens of billions, maybe even hundreds of billions!”
“How many zeros is that! He's so rich, why does he still want to enter the Instance?”
“What kind of illness is that? Even money can't cure it?”
“No one is immune to illness. Looking at him, he's probably not far from death. Since money is useless now, he can only come here to gamble on the Instance.”
“No wonder there's such a grand display. If I had that much money, I wouldn't want to die either.”
“So much money... I don't even need half. Just a few million would satisfy me.”
The Lu family heard the awe and envy from the crowd clearly, but their faces remained expressionless.
Lu Bingkun breathed oxygen with difficulty, his cloudy eyes filled with a desperate craving for life.
He had everything in this life.
Wealth, power, a house full of children and grandchildren—he had enjoyed every bit of it.
But the more he had, the more reluctant he was to die.
If he were a few decades younger, he might have faced it calmly. But now—why should Heaven make him die like this?
He was unwilling.
He was utterly unwilling!
Half a month ago, he had started pulling strings to contact people from the Special Investigation Bureau.
From Jingbei to Jiangcheng, he had thrown sum after sum of money at them, but he couldn't even make a crack in their resolve.
Coming here in person today was his way of proving his determination to the authorities.
...
The middle-aged man walked up to the cordon with the lawyer and spoke arrogantly to the officer on duty:
“We are a delegation from the Lu Group. We would like to see your person in charge. Please inform them.”
The officer remained expressionless, not even blinking:
“Apologies, this is a controlled area. Unauthorized personnel are not permitted to approach. Please leave immediately.”
“Unauthorized personnel?”
The middle-aged man chuckled, his tone tinged with impatience. “Do you know how many government cooperation projects the Lu Group has in Jiangcheng—no, across the entire country? How many public welfare funds we handle, and how much tax we pay every year? We are prepared to donate two hundred million yuan to the Special Investigation Bureau as research funding. Does wanting to see your on-site manager now still make us unauthorized personnel?”
Before the officer could speak, a person walked out from behind the cordon.
Chen Xi wore a black tactical uniform, her posture straight as a spear, the epaulets on her shoulders gleaming.
“I am Chen Xi of the Special Investigation Bureau's Operations Department.”
Standing inside the cordon, her gaze swept over the group, her tone steady. “May I ask what this is about?”
The middle-aged man sized her up. Seeing her youth, a trace of contempt flashed in his eyes:
“I am Lu Jianming of the Lu Group. My father, Lu Bingkun, wishes to enter the Taiping Cemetery Instance. We have already submitted the relevant application... Two hundred million yuan, donated to the Special Investigation Bureau as research funding, in exchange for a single slot in the Instance.”
Chen Xi listened, her face showing no emotion:
“The Taiping Cemetery Instance is a Class One controlled area. Without instructions from superiors, no one is allowed to enter privately. As for the donation, please contact the relevant departments through official channels. I do not have the authority to grant entry. Please leave the restricted area and do not disrupt our normal duties.”
—If money could truly buy open the gates of the Special Investigation Bureau, she wouldn't need to be this section chief anymore.
The other party had chosen not to communicate with the Special Investigation Bureau properly, instead directly blocking the entrance to the Instance. It seemed they were at their wits' end.
Lu Jianming's face darkened.
His first reaction wasn't that Chen Xi was stubborn, but rather he subconsciously felt the Special Investigation Bureau wanted more.
A donation of two hundred million, and she wouldn't leave even a sliver of leeway?
“Young lady, don't speak so absolutely.”
Lu Jianming's tone grew cold:
“Our Chairman Lu doesn't have much time left. If his treatment is delayed, can you bear the responsibility?”
“I am a soldier; I follow orders,” Chen Xi replied, her tone still steady and unyielding. “Rules are rules. Please go back.”
The old man sitting in the wheelchair heard their conversation clearly.
He coughed twice and gestured with his fingers toward his bodyguards.
Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, gently pushing the wheelchair to bring him right up to the cordon.
Song Mo watched on her tiptoes.
From up close, the old man's sickly state was fully visible.
His eye sockets were deeply sunken, his skin sagged loosely, yet he still exuded an oppressive air of someone who had long held a superior position.
He lifted his eyelids, looking down his nose at Chen Xi with his habitual contempt and indifference—
It was as if, in his eyes, he and “ordinary people” were no longer the same species.
Chen Xi stood her ground, not taking half a step back.
...
“Tsk, this bunch won't be able to get in either.”
An onlooker waved their hand, pursing their lips as they shared gossip with Song Mo:
“This is already the umpteenth group trying to get in this week, and not a single one has made it. They say there's a ghost bus, but we watch here every day and have never seen it. We've only heard that some people got in!”
“Doesn't matter if you have money or power, they just won't let anyone in. They say people will die if they go inside.”
“Even if they're willing to take the risk?”
“Of course not...”
“Still, is there really a ghost bus or what?”
There was.
Song Mo raised her eyes, looking at the heavy fog that had suddenly rolled in over the road along the river.
Without anyone noticing, a fog had risen.
Rate on N.U.
