Horror games? Whatever, I'll die.

Jiang Qingtang rarely saw her brother get the short end of the stick, so she gleefully ordered him a Margarita.

The complex flavors of saltiness, spiciness, sourness, and sweetness rushed into my throat, making it hard to describe as pleasant to drink. A novice who doesn't drink often would probably spit it out after just one sip.

Jiang Qingjian drank it all in one gulp without changing his expression, put down the cup, and left without looking back.

"gone."

-----

Liang Zaibing sat on the bed for a long time, clutching her head, but the dizziness did not subside at all.

He hadn't eaten last night, and his stomach felt empty and burning. He also had a headache. He strongly suspected that someone had taken advantage of his drunkenness and hit him on the head last night.

Eleven brought over a cup of warm honey water, saying, "The porridge is ready."

I gulped down a cup, and only then did the burning sensation in my stomach subside a little.

Liang Zaibing dragged herself out of bed, rubbing her temples as she complained, "Damn it, that bastard Huang Fang screwed me over. Bars are no fun at all."

"Then I won't go anymore." Eleven took the empty glass, her eyes cold, but not looking in Liang Zaibing's direction.

If Huang Fang were here, he might really teach him a lesson.

"I'm not going, I'm not going." Liang Zaibing waved her hands repeatedly, "Drinking makes me feel terrible."

Nothing happened last night, right?

Eleven pursed her lips and ultimately only said, "The female ghost in the house did not appear."

Liang Zaibing frowned and thought for a while, "It seems that the guy surnamed Jiang didn't lie to me. Dealing with the vengeful ghost in the dungeon can indeed affect reality."

"That's good too. From now on, this house will be clean and free of ghosts, and we can live here in peace."

-----

Liang Zaibing sat at the dining table, scooping up spoonfuls of congee with preserved egg and lean pork, but her mind was still on Hu Fanghai.

Lu Hao and Lin Yucheng both died in the instance, so what about him? Is he a completely fictional character, or will he disappear like them?

"It's 12:10 PM Beijing time now. Welcome to the midday news program..."

The male host's standard broadcasting voice came from the television, and Chen An stared intently at the trivial news stories about everyday life on the screen.

Yongqing City's local TV station isn't a big station. On weekdays, there's basically nothing major going on. It's either about some entrepreneur investing in a factory, or someone neglecting their elderly parents and making a scene on "1818 Golden Eye," or people arguing and pushing each other over a few hundred yuan in front of the whole city's audience.

Liang Zaibing still doesn't know why Chen An loves watching this stupid news so much.

"...We are now breaking the news that Mr. Hu Fanghai, a well-known entrepreneur in this city, was found dead at home at 9:17 pm last night. Mr. Hu's wife and family expressed their deep regret over this."

"At the same time, we would like to remind viewers to ensure adequate sleep and reduce late nights, and to seek medical attention promptly if they feel unwell."

Liang Zaibing was somewhat bewildered. He died just like that?

However, thinking about it, the way the horror game handles it is reasonable. For someone whose social relationships are not complicated, simply wiping them out is naturally easy.

Hu Fanghai, a man with a wide network of connections and great influence, has projects and buildings that affect countless people, so there's no way to resolve things so crudely.

The long-silent cell phone suddenly rang, and the caller ID showed "Old Man Liang".

Liang Zaibing put the spoon back in the bowl and answered the phone. Before he could say anything, the person on the other end started yelling and cursing.

"You haven't come back even once during your summer vacation. Have you been studying hard outside?"

Liang Zaibing covered her ears and moved her phone away. "Something came up, I just finished dealing with it, I'll go back this afternoon."

"What could you possibly have to do? You're just playing around, aren't you? Count how many days you haven't been back to the orphanage, you little ingrate..."

Seeing that Liang Yuan was nagging him again, Liang Zaibing said "hello" a few times, pretended that the signal was bad, and then hung up the phone and turned off his phone.

Without the incessant nagging, the world instantly became much quieter.

But Liang Zaibing didn't dare to linger too long. She quickly finished her porridge and even took the bowls away to wash them.

The last time he was this diligent was before, but Chen An and Eleven have never seen him do it.

The two ghosts exchanged a silent glance before turning their gaze back to the person who was clearly acting strangely.

In less than ten minutes, Liang Zaibing completed a series of actions, including washing and drying the dishes, changing clothes, packing, and turning off the water and electricity.

He was already so capable when he worked at the orphanage as a child.

If we don't take care of ourselves, no one will have the extra time to look after these children who have no parents.

Although Dean Liang took good care of him when he was a child, he should give that good fortune to someone else.

The old man only knew how to follow him around, forcing him to practice martial arts and inherit his mantle. Liang Zaibing still couldn't understand why he, a martial arts practitioner, would come to the welfare home to take care of these little kids instead of opening a martial arts school or becoming a gangster.

As for now, Liang Zaibing has practically degenerated into an invertebrate.

Running away in a dungeon is tiring, and it takes a lot of brainpower.

As Liang Zaibing put on his sneakers and sunglasses in the entryway, ready to leave, Shiyi also put on his coat. Only Chen An was still sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at him.

"What are you standing there for? Hurry up, or you'll all get scolded with me if it gets late."

-----

Forty minutes later, the three people stood at the entrance of the welfare home carrying large and small bags.

Many curious children peeked at them through the railing. One of them recognized Liang Zaibing and waved excitedly at him.

"Brother, what delicious food did you bring this time—?"

The gatekeeper recognized Liang Zaibing and opened the gate to let them in.

Liang Zaibing smiled and took a bag of potato chips out of the bag and handed it to him, while also ruffling his head, "Here, have some."

The little boy cheered and ran off, clutching the potato chips tightly, with several other children chasing after him.

"Xiao Hang, give me one!"

"Why are you running so fast? The dean said good things should be shared!"

As soon as the director arrived, a middle-aged man in his forties, dressed in martial arts clothes, rushed to the entrance of the welfare home.

Liang Yuan felt a headache coming on looking at the noisy bunch of kids, and immediately pointed the finger at the instigator, "You keep buying them snacks, do you have money now?"

"No way, I bought so many things." Liang Zaibing pulled things out like magic: fairy tale books, toy cars, more than a dozen new clothes... and even a white porcelain tea set for Liang Yuan.

The things Liang Zaibing brought were enough to give a gift to all the children in the welfare home.

But Liang Yuan wasn't fooled by his sweet talk. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and looked him over. "Where did you get the money?"

"And why are you wearing sunglasses in broad daylight? Are you trying to act like a gangster?" Liang Yuan said, reaching out to take off his sunglasses.

Without the sunglasses to conceal it, the tired and listless look after a hangover was impossible to hide, not to mention that striking red eye.

Liang Yuan glanced at the other young man who had come with him, and after a long pause, said, "What are you two doing with Koss?"