Chapter 3: Locked Room One — The Yellow Springs Inn

“Spend your life?” The office lady stared at the crew-cut youth in shock.

“Yes. For newcomers like you, if one or two survive in the end, that’s already considered good.”

Thinking of the room they had just barely escaped from, the office lady and the fat man instantly turned pale.

“Then how can you guarantee you’ll definitely get us through?” The man in the checkered shirt standing to the left of the door spoke up, clearly not convinced by the crew-cut youth’s words.

“Simple. You can pay me after you clear the stage.” The crew-cut youth stood with hands on his hips, legs spread, posing like a flamboyant pair of scissors.

“You just said you don’t want money. Then what do you want?”

“Points. From the points you earn after clearing the stage, each of you gives me forty percent.”

Song Ci puffed out his cheeks, blew at the dangling tail strap of his cap, and leaned lazily against the back wall of the elevator. No wonder he had so readily suggested paying afterward—turns out he couldn’t take anything now even if he wanted to.

“Fine, I agree,” the fat man said quickly.

“I agree too,” the bespectacled man on Song Ci’s right hurriedly added.

Since payment was only after clearing the stage, it felt more secure. The office lady nodded. “I agree as well.”

With three deals settled, the crew-cut youth beamed and stepped into the elevator, standing in the center as the mechanical voice announced: 【Candidate Number 7】.

“There must be restrictions on the newbie exam, right? If you lead us, doesn’t that break the game rules?” Song Ci suddenly spoke from behind him.

The crew-cut youth turned back in surprise, glanced at Song Ci, then sneered. “To think of that, you’re not stupid. Don’t worry, it won’t break the rules.”

“Do you know how we got here?” The office lady asked, troubled by the mystery, seeing how experienced he seemed.

The crew-cut youth sighed with a lonely expression, as if recalling his own past. “When you came, you all touched a book, didn’t you?”

Book?

The office lady thought carefully. “Does an e-book count? I was reading a novel at the time.”

The fat man wiped sweat from his forehead. “I was reading a magazine.”

The bespectacled man suddenly realized. “I was flipping through an almanac.”

The man in the checkered shirt said nothing, but his expression showed he had been caught too.

Song Ci and Zhang Chi both felt exasperated. Ridiculous — does a manual count as a book too?

“Books are the passage into this game.” The crew-cut youth nodded mysteriously but refused to explain further, clearly holding something back.

While they were talking, the green countdown lights had nearly run out. A tall man hurried past the elevator entrance. He was about to walk on, but after glancing inside at the group, he abruptly stopped and stepped in.

【Candidate Number 8】. The mechanical voice sounded again inside the elevator.

Song Ci and Zhang Chi were both over 1.8 meters tall, not short at all, but this man was still half a head taller. The crew-cut youth was suppressed by the tall man’s aura and silently slid one step to the right, shifting like a Tetris block to the far side, leaving the center spot open.

Once he moved, Song Ci, standing in the back row center, suddenly found himself face-to-face with the tall man.

Originally lounging against the elevator wall, Song Ci stiffened as if struck by lightning.

The tall man had already turned around, standing boldly at the doorway.

Though very tall, he didn’t have the usual stoop of tall people; his posture was upright. Gazing at his broad, straight back and perfectly squared shoulders, Song Ci instinctively straightened his own body, his heart pounding wildly.

“Senior, what’s wrong?” Zhang Chi asked softly.

“Meeting a handsome guy makes me a little nervous.” Song Ci tugged at his burning earlobe, speaking half-jokingly, half-seriously.

Song Ci, male, preference: male. On the road of pursuing “shared interests,” he had suffered repeated defeats, walking a particularly difficult path. To this day, his years of being single had grown steadily in sync with his age, with every sign of continuing until the end of time.

Glancing down at his wrinkled sweatpants and the silly, cartoonish Pikachu slippers on his feet, he couldn’t help but cover his forehead in regret. Damn! As expected, one always meets their ideal type at their most disheveled.

Handsome? Zhang Chi curiously leaned forward for a look. He had been busy recalling whether the instruction manual contained anything strange, so he hadn’t seen the tall man’s face. But judging from the back, the man’s proportions were excellent—broad shoulders, long legs, rolled-up sleeves revealing firm forearm muscles. Clearly someone who exercised often.

While Zhang Chi was evaluating the tall man’s physique, the green countdown lights silently finished their last segment. The countdown ended, and all the elevator doors slowly closed.

First row: checkered shirt, tall man, fat man.

Second row: office lady, crew-cut youth.

Third row: Zhang Chi, Song Ci, bespectacled man.

Elevator No. 7, eight passengers. Their elevator never reached full capacity.

“What about those people outside?” Zhang Chi looked toward the door, so many hadn’t entered.

“If they don’t join the newbie exam, they’re eliminated directly.” The crew-cut youth raised his left hand and made a throat-slitting gesture.

The office lady covered her mouth in horror.

Song Ci lowered his lashes to glance at the box of drinks in Zhang Chi’s hands. Their situation wasn’t much better—starting with a box of cola, ending perhaps only with pity.

No one spoke again. A heavy silence filled the elevator.

If it was truly as the crew-cut youth said, a game where you spend life, then death was already close at hand.

A sharp whistle sounded, followed by the rigid electronic voice: [Arriving at Exam Hall No. 7. Candidates, please take your seats. Escape room loading, please wait…]

Song Ci clutched his forehead, feeling needle-like pain—this time worse than before.

The nervous bespectacled man couldn’t hold back. “What exactly does the newbie exam test?”

“Not fixed,” the crew-cut youth shrugged calmly. “The question bank is random. But it always comes down to one thing: finding the key. You heard it—it’s an escape room. Only by finding the key can you leave.”

“Key?” Zhang Chi asked curiously. “What kind of key?”

“Who knows where the room’s master hides it.” The crew-cut youth raised two fingers. “There are two ways to get the key. First, fulfill the master’s wish or task—if satisfied, he’ll give you the key. Second, solve the puzzle clues set by the master.”

The office lady suddenly understood. “So it’s a thinking game?”

The crew-cut youth clicked his teeth. “Not that simple. Sometimes you start with Resident Evil 10—if you can’t escape, you’re eaten alive. Forget about finding any damn key.”

“Like a real-life escape room.” Zhang Chi clenched his fist, summarizing.

The crew-cut youth didn’t reply, tacitly agreeing.

“So we might die as soon as we enter?” The office lady grew more anxious.

Perhaps out of courtesy to a pretty woman, the crew-cut youth spoke gently to her. “Relax. The default difficulty for newbie tests is one star. As long as you follow my lead, no one will die.”

“One star means what?” Song Ci frowned. Just moments ago this guy had exaggerated the danger, now he spoke so lightly. Which of his words were true?

Because of their positions, Song Ci’s gaze kept colliding with the figure in front. Throughout the discussion, the tall man stood silently, as if asleep, never speaking.

“See that row of buttons? When the doors close, the button for the default difficulty lights up automatically. From bottom to top, one star to six stars—the higher, the harder.” The crew-cut youth pointed toward the panel in front, blocked by the fat man.

The office lady’s voice trembled. “Then what does the ‘4’ mean up there?”

“Four-star difficulty. For you now, that’s hell mode.” The crew-cut youth answered casually. “But honestly, four-star rooms are rare—like winning the lottery. No one I know has ever seen above three stars. Or rather, those who did never came back.”

After two seconds of silence, he suddenly reacted, pushing aside the fat man.

On the elevator wall, the third button glowed softly, marked neatly with a “4.”

“Damn! Four-star difficulty? How could it be four stars?” The crew-cut youth’s voice rose. “Which of you pressed it? Tired of living?”

Fat man: .....

“We’re doomed, totally doomed!” He fumbled nervously, squeezing his left thumb. At that moment, the whistle and electronic voice sounded again: 【Newbie Escape Room ‘Wedding Banquet’ loaded. Welcome to login!】

Hearing the voice, the crew-cut youth froze, his arms dropping in despair.

【Long drought meets sweet rain,

Faraway land meets old friend,

Wedding night in bridal chamber,

At midnight hour.

Seventh day of the seventh month,

Six spirits on duty,

Auspicious day,

Blessings received.

Life is like a banquet,

joy and sorrow known only to oneself.

Welcome, honored guests, to witness trivial matters hidden within a time of chaos and turmoil.

Game mission: Leave the escape room alive.

Game time limit: 9 days.】

Leave alive? Everyone was startled, growing even more tense.

Above the elevator, the electronic screen displayed a striking line of text:【Remaining time in escape room: 216:00:00】

From the crack of the door, orange-red flames silently ignited. In the firelight, the stainless steel elevator doors bent and burned like paper, turning to ash, vanishing like a scene from a magical film, dazzling yet eerie.

In just two or three seconds, the entire elevator disappeared with the rolling flames, revealing a dark sky and a dilapidated courtyard wall.

Everyone was dumbfounded. Where was this place?

Opposite stood a small wooden building, gray and shabby, carrying a crude sense of age.

There was no light inside, but outside along the eaves hung rows of white lanterns. Weeds had grown between the roof tiles, clearly neglected, exuding a bleak and decayed atmosphere. It looked nothing like a place for a wedding celebration.

The courtyard was empty, with only a pile of firewood and a drafty three-sided stable. In the middle, where no one had stood in the elevator, there was now a water well. The eight of them happened to be standing in a circle around it.

The sky resembled an old black cloth worn thin, unevenly dark, with a few dim stars scattered across it, their faint light unsettling.

Dong, dong, dong… A bell rang from somewhere. Song Ci counted seven times.

“Eh, why did my clothes change?” Time inside the escape room was clearly different. The office lady carefully tried to adjust her watch to match, but discovered her pale blue dress had turned into a high-collared, cross-front style.

From the collar to the armpit were several lute-shaped fastenings. Below was a pair of dark blue trousers, heavy with a Republic of China era style. Even her fluffy curls had become two thick black braids.

Not only her, but everyone’s outfits had changed. The men mostly wore coarse cloth undershirts, long trousers, and ragged cloth shoes, resembling dockside laborers from old television dramas. Zhang Chi’s headband had become a torn towel, his chest pouch a cloth bundle, and the box of drinks in his hands had turned into a rough ceramic jar bound with straw rope.

The bespectacled man’s glasses and jade pendant, the fat man’s gold watch, and the office lady’s pearl bracelet had not changed. The escape room seemed to place no restrictions on accessories.

So the escape room included role-playing?

Song Ci examined himself. His baseball cap had become a felt hat, his white T-shirt a white undershirt, his red sweatpants dark red trousers with frayed hems like mop strings, fluttering in the night wind.

Unexpectedly, there was now a silver necklace around his neck.

The pendant was a simple silver rectangular tag, hammered with patterns. On the front was a laser-etched four-digit number: 2021. On the back were four puzzling English letters: PLEF.

Where did this come from? Song Ci frowned.

He never wore accessories, always keeping himself clean.

Looking at the others, only Zhang Chi also had a similar tag, half-hidden under his clothes, the number unseen.

If this was given by the “game system,” shouldn’t everyone have one? Why only him and Zhang Chi? Song Ci puzzled over the mysterious tag.

Zhang Chi, meanwhile, was staring curiously at the tall man. Square face, heavy brows, narrow eyes. An ordinary face, plain and forgettable. At best, one could say his looks were hidden; at worst, not worth a second glance. Zhang Chi muttered inwardly: Handsome? Senior’s eyesight must be terrible.

Feeling the “heated” gaze beside him, the tall man turned his head in confusion. Caught red-handed, Zhang Chi awkwardly touched his nose and quickly looked away.

The checkered shirt man noticed a wooden door behind them and ran to push it. The door looked fragile but was extremely heavy, refusing to budge.

“I feel this place isn’t right, like something unclean is here.” The bespectacled man stared uneasily at the deep water of the well, clutching his jade Guanyin tightly.

“Don’t scare yourself.” The office lady shivered at his words, then looked at the crew-cut youth in confusion. “What should we do now?”

Not only her, but nearly everyone felt lost, unsure where to begin.

“Search a bit. Usually there are clues or NPCs near the entrance.” The crew-cut youth looked around nervously. Even he had no idea how terrifying a four-star escape room could be.

Phones didn’t work. After searching, they found no source of light. The tall man had to take down a few lanterns from the eaves.

Boom!

A loud crash sounded behind them, startling the office lady so much she dropped her lantern.

A faint burnt smell filled the air. Looking back, they saw broken wooden sticks scattered on the ground, with the checkered shirt man collapsed nearby in pain.

Zhang Chi put down his ceramic jar and rushed to help him up, shocked to find half of his arm blackened and red, burned with torn flesh.

Seeing his terrible injury, everyone was horrified. He had only tried smashing the door with a stick, was this necessary?

“Don’t act recklessly. If you break the escape room’s rules, you’ll only suffer yourself.” The crew-cut youth warned. The checkered shirt man clutched his arm, face pale, head lowered.

Everyone fell silent.

“Better to hurry and find the key clues.” The bespectacled man said awkwardly.

The tall man picked up the office lady’s dropped lantern. Seeing it broken, he politely exchanged it for the intact one in his hand.

“Eh, does that count as a clue?” Zhang Chi raised his hand. Seeing everyone’s eyes turn toward him, he quickly pointed at the water well.

The elevator’s original nine marble floor tiles had already transformed into the well and eight bluestone slabs surrounding it. Because everyone had stepped away, the slabs beneath their feet were revealed. In the dim light, faintly visible characters were carved on each one.

Gathering closer, they discovered the eight slabs together formed a sentence: [Far away in the sky, close before your eyes].

“Yes, that’s a clue!” The crew-cut youth nodded excitedly.

“If it says ‘before your eyes,’ it should mean this water well, right?” said the bespectacled man.

“Or maybe it refers to that small building.” The crew-cut youth offered his opinion.

“I remember this phrase is a word puzzle,” the office lady brought her lantern closer to the slabs. “The answer is ‘eye’.”

“That’s just nonsense!” The fat man muttered, his chin wobbling with the words.

“What are you doing?”

As they studied the phrase, a hoarse voice suddenly rang out behind them. The sound was rough and rasping, like a saw cutting through dead wood, chilling to the bone.

Turning back, they saw the wooden door had somehow been pushed open from outside.

At the doorway stood an old man, hunched, hair and beard completely white, staring coldly at them with a single cloudy eye.

Outside the inn, a string of pale lanterns creaked in the wind. On them were written four sinister characters:

《Inn of the Yellow Springs》

Author’s Note:

The author adds: “Don’t worry, my gong is always handsome.”

Mini theater: Who has the problem?

Zhang Chi [curious]: “Senior, forgive me for asking directly, but do you usually draw handsome guys like that tall man?”

Song Ci [sighing with frustration]: “That’s what depresses me. Editors and clients nowadays have terrible taste, so vulgar. The handsome men I carefully draw, they don’t like. The plain faces I sketch casually, they prefer. The more half-hearted I am, the more they love it.”

Zhang Chi: ………… “Senior, are you sure it’s the editors’ problem?”