Chapter 12: The Widow in the Mansion

A Pequena Bela Queridinha dos Milhares de Pessoas Foi Visada Novamente [Infinito] Templo Shuangyan 3779 words 2026-08-04 05:33:05

Page (1/3)

The young stepson stared directly at Yu Deng. His words were like a vow of inevitable victory, as if taunting a competitor who had yet to show their face. Cheng Xiao watched Yu Deng without blinking, eager to see how he would react. Would he feel offended by the younger man’s boldness, or would he accept it as a matter of course? No matter how Yu Deng responded, Cheng Xiao’s resolve would not waver. At this moment, he was filled with an intense excitement, as if finally voicing the desire buried deep within his heart.

Yu Deng took a few slow moments to process the words, then comprehension dawned. His round, beautiful eyes darkened with anger, and his voice rose a few notches, tinged with disbelief: “You actually see me as an inheritance!” He lifted his chin defiantly, snorting, “You’re not allowed to say that about me.” Like a proud yet somewhat clumsy and spoiled little kitten, he mewed angrily at the “bad human.” It made one want to scoop him up and gently soothe him.

Cheng Xiao paused, then nodded in agreement. “You’re right.” “You are a treasure.” That satisfied Yu Deng somewhat. He added a critique on the side: “And your kissing skills are really terrible! It hurt a lot.” Cheng Xiao was speechless but gritted his teeth. “I’ll practice properly.”

Yu Deng was oblivious to how provocative his words sounded. After admonishing the arrogant stepson who dared to call him an inheritance, he pushed his shoulder lightly, telling him not to block the way. As the other players began to leave one by one, Cheng Xiao, not wanting others to see Yu Deng’s lively demeanor, properly lifted him up.

“Oh, by the way.” After walking a few meters, Yu Deng suddenly recalled the class roster they had seen last night and decided to remind Cheng Xiao, who was also a player, “You might…” “Hmm?” Yu Deng said, “It’s nothing much, just that you might not be a biological child of the Cheng family.” After saying this, he glanced sideways at the stepson’s reaction and found it completely unruffled, only a casual nod in response. “Okay, I got it,” Cheng Xiao replied. It was probably some plot background detail—no big deal. Regardless of whether his deceased father was biologically related, he would never give up on Yu Deng.

Cheng Xiao then steered the conversation back to the Cheng family murder case. Yu Deng pondered but found no answers, silently complaining in his mind for the eight hundredth time. “Honestly, even if those people don’t want to call the police, wouldn’t it be better to have everyone stay in their rooms? That way, it’s easier to find out who left and acted.” It was all a mess now.

“Because they won’t admit it, probably.” Yu Deng heard a voice and suddenly looked up, realizing he had muttered aloud. The one answering him was Cheng Wenhao. This man was already a bit frail; after staying up all night guarding the vigil, he had dark circles under his eyes and unsteady footsteps. Walking from the doorway to the stairs, he staggered as if a gust of wind might blow him away. His haggard, bent-over posture made him look even frailer than his fiancée.

Yu Deng nodded at Cheng Wenhao and Lin Zhiyue as they approached. Cheng Wenhao twisted the corner of his mouth. “Locking those concubines up separately is harder than killing them. After all, they were esteemed madams for so many years; how could they bear being treated like suspects and prisoners? It’s like grandpa—almost seventy, yet still unwilling to relinquish power…” He stopped midway, realizing the comment was inappropriate, and sulked into silence. But Yu Deng rarely caught the unspoken meaning. At this age, the patriarch’s grip on power was due to his unwillingness to let go of the authority and prestige of leading the family. It was uncommon for two generations of young masters and ladies to still call the head “sir” in a family like the Chengs.

Yu Deng studied this surrogate nephew carefully, hesitating whether to ask such questions in front of Miss Lin. Cheng Xiao had no such reservations and directly asked Cheng Wenhao, “Did you really sleep that long the day before yesterday?”

Cheng Wenhao’s face darkened. “Brother, why are you asking the same questions as those guests? I was careless at the time, but there’s no need to lie.”

Page (2/3)

Lin Zhiyue tugged his sleeve, and the two said no more, returning to their rooms to rest. Yu Deng went with Cheng Xiao to the reception hall to join the players for breakfast. After a few days, the players had confirmed Yu Deng’s identity as a gentle, harmless friendly NPC and mostly stopped avoiding him.

Breakfast was plain rice porridge, watery and bland; no one dared to complain and just ate quickly. The overworked salaryman and the designer woman were eating bread. Cheng Xiao barely ate, his eyes fixed on Yu Deng.

Yu Deng was clearly displeased with the breakfast. He ate politely but barely took a few spoonfuls, slowly sipping the porridge. His soft pink lips parted slightly, glistening with moisture. Cheng Xiao’s gaze hardly ever left him.

“Don’t know if anything will happen today,” one player sighed. “Honestly, aside from the first day, it’s been like playing a scripted story, watching their plot unfold.” “Don’t let your guard down,” came the warning.

After breakfast, Yu Deng followed Cheng Xiao near the inner gate of the mansion, where two servants were polishing furniture. Yu Deng recognized them as the ones who had spoken the night of the vigil. There they were! The chatty NPCs of this mystery world, surely here to give players some clues!

Yu Deng and Cheng Xiao exchanged a glance, then, in rare tacit understanding, walked away briefly before sneaking back around. Yu Deng pricked up his ears, eager to overhear their conversation.

His intuition was right; they began to talk. “You just brought breakfast to the young master and Miss Lin, right?” “Yes, they’re really close. The young master even tried to blow on Miss Lin’s food to cool it down.” “You might not know, but they’re quite the love story. Miss Lin, because of her beauty, was constantly harassed at school until our young master heroically saved her. They fell in love and soon arranged a wedding.” “That’s a shame now.”

Yu Deng listened thoughtfully. It seemed the players’ gathered information matched this version. The servants lowered their voices. “The young master actually wants to inherit the Cheng family, being a direct line, but the old master thinks he’s just a grandson-in-law… Speaking of heirs, the Chaolin young master is truly talented…” “Shh, the old master said we’re not to mention that young master.” “Oh, but the day before yesterday afternoon, I think I saw the young master go to the old master’s room…” “Really?!” “It was just a similar figure; I’m not sure.” Yu Deng was puzzled. But Cheng Wenhao kept insisting he was asleep and hadn’t gone out. Who was lying?

Perhaps these two chatty NPCs were today’s in-game clue providers. Or maybe after being pestered by players, the NPCs’ attitudes had soured compared to previous days. The players looked disheveled and frustrated, having spent the entire day without uncovering anything new.

Outside, the sky darkened again, ushering in the third night of the scenario. Yu Deng had been injured yesterday; water stung his wounds, so his bath had been rushed and superficial. Tonight, he could bear it no longer. Ugh, feeling grimy all over.

Nothing had happened in the bathroom the past two days. Yu Deng fully trusted the system’s assurance that his special identity would keep him from being targeted first.

He carried a fresh bathrobe inside. Worth mentioning, Yu Deng had taken the chance yesterday to speak with the butler about underwear, and now his wardrobe finally held several new pieces of intimate clothing. Otherwise, he’d have to wear the stepson’s again… terribly ill-fitting!

Page (3/3)

The bathroom light was a warm orange hue, dimmer than in the room. Yu Deng hung up his robe and casually tossed his dirty clothes into the hamper. Hot water cascaded from the overhead shower. Yu Deng shuddered briefly at the sting of water on his wounds, then sank into the pleasure of the warm bath.

In the bedroom just beyond the bathroom wall, It appeared once more. Today the shadow was slightly more solid—a vague black silhouette just barely distinguishable. When the shadow tried to reveal facial features, it was repelled, failing to do so. Only when fully transparent and unseen were its features clear.

It gave up trying and slipped into the bathroom. The light flickered rapidly once, then dimmed slowly. The shower had been running for minutes, and the steamy warmth filled every corner with a sweet, heavy fragrance.

In the center of the bathroom, the little beauty stood with his back to the shadow. His skin was snow-white, his waist and legs slender, yet certain parts were voluptuously soft. When he slightly turned, one could see he was not pure white; his slightly parted lips were tinged red, and two small, delicate points were crimson.

It gazed at Yu Deng with a lecherous obsession.

As Yu Deng bathed, he shivered and asked, “System, why am I suddenly so cold?” System replied: […That’s normal.] Yu Deng was baffled: “???” What’s normal about that?

The next second, the room darkened noticeably, and Yu Deng shuddered from the cold. —He was suddenly held from behind by a cold, unknown being. Yu Deng froze, legs trembling. “Y-you came looking for me…?” The presence said nothing but bent down to gently lick the wound on Yu Deng’s shoulder blade.

So cold, so ticklish…

Yu Deng pursed his lips; a flush of delicate rouge appeared at the corner of his eyes. He dared not look back, only facing the wall before him, seeing a vague silhouette far taller than himself.

Wuwu, this strange shadow—it’s a ghost, isn’t it? Yu Deng was terrified: “System, didn’t you say they usually wouldn’t notice me first?” [Yes, that’s generally true.] Yu Deng knew something was wrong when the system began to qualify its answer. [This is a special case. These beings are inherently interested in you, or their interest far exceeds the system’s dampening of your presence.]

So these beings sought Yu Deng out precisely.

Feeling brushed off, Yu Deng pouted: “You didn’t warn me this would happen.”

[My oversight. But host, don’t be too afraid. I detect no hostility from it toward you.]

Really…?

Meanwhile, the shadow, displeased at Yu Deng’s distraction, gently bit the uninjured shoulder. “Hiss…” Yu Deng instinctively pushed back, feeling the cold touch, then timidly shrank back.

Yu Deng whispered, “So, who are you…” The shadow seemed to say something, but it was as if cut off in another space; Yu Deng heard nothing.

It was no longer human, holding the fragrant, soft, beautiful little wife in its arms. Instinct had long overridden reason, driving its actions.