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Hi, Yue here.
In the Chinese raw, ‘Xilin’ is written as 西林, which literally means Westwood or West Grove. Its pronunciation is identical to 溪林, which means Creekwood or Creek Grove. This is an intentional wordplay designed to mislead the players.
Everyone fell silent, racking their brains for a solution.
After a few seconds, Bai Wan suddenly spoke up: “Hold on. The letter said that the painting Dreamscape was already halfway done—but… we’ve searched this whole cabin and didn’t find any paintings.”
When Bai Wan pointed it out, everyone else realized something felt off too.
Yeah, where’s the painting? Come to think of it, weren’t they supposed to be playing robbers?
So then… where did all of Lin Yuan’s stuff go?
As they pondered it, a memory fragment popped into their minds.
In truth, they’d come to Mingkou Village as tourists. But when they ran short on money, they’d decided to rob the place since it was so remote and sparsely populated.
Their car had broken down, the roads were bad, so they couldn’t leave right away. To keep the loot safe, they’d buried all of Lin Yuan’s things in a place called Xilin—planning to dig it up later.
There was a big stone stele in Xilin; they’d buried everything under that stele.
“Looks like the main plot’s moving forward now. The next step is to go dig up Lin Yuan’s stuff in Xilin, inside will be the unfinished painting, Dreamscape,” Sun Qian concluded.
Only by finding that painting could they handle the ghost wife’s latest letter.
“But… where is Xilin?” Wang Jian asked.
The new memory didn’t include the exact location. They only knew that, as the robbers, they’d buried the loot there.
“Going by the name, ‘Xilin’ sounds like it’d be a forest west of the village. But there’s just a huge patch of wasteland on the west side—doesn’t really look like there’s a forest,” Xu Bing added, frowning.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll have to ask the villagers. Let’s split up—there’s no time,” Sun Qian suggested.
Before, they’d always moved together for safety, but that was too slow. Now the situation was urgent. If they didn’t find Xilin today, they’d have no way to write back tonight.
Since they’d already cracked Lin Yuan’s kill pattern, it was relatively safe to move alone.
“Alright, let’s split up.” Su Yuening nodded. She agreed it was the best option.
So everyone set out separately to search the village.
Bai Wan walked through Mingkou Village, casually scanning his surroundings with curiosity. Most of the houses they’d already visited, so he picked a new path. The village didn’t have many people, but it covered a wide area—houses were scattered far apart, so he’d have to walk for a while to reach each one.
As he walked, he mulled over everything that had happened in the dungeon. Especially the strange bits, because those were always the clues to clearing the game.
He had two main questions on his mind.
First: according to the letters, Lin Yuan was just a poor painter, holed up at home working all day, unable to make a name for himself—hence his in-laws’ disapproval. But… was that really worth robbing? Worth killing for? For a dirt-poor painter?
Second: the ghost version of Lin Yuan was always shrouded in black mist, so no one could see his face. Maybe that was just the ghost’s power, but… what if Lin Yuan’s real face was a problem? What if seeing him ruined his ability to kill?
With those suspicions simmering, Bai Wan kept an eye out as he walked, especially on the houses. He and his sister Bai Xi had agreed beforehand to mark any places with special signs so they could find each other. So far, he hadn’t seen anything.
A little further down the path, he paused in front of a cabin—and his mouth twitched.
Found it.
On the cabin’s outer wall, scrawled in chalk in a crooked hand, were the words: [Useless brother living off his sister’s money]. All because, when they were kids, he’d “borrowed” her allowance for a while! Unbelievable!
Bai Wan stepped forward and knocked on the door.
A moment later, the door cracked open and a sneaky little head poked out. When she saw Bai Wan, Bai Xi’s eyes lit up and she quickly dragged him inside.
“Who’s that?” came an old man’s voice from inside.
“Nothing, Grandpa,” Bai Xi called back sweetly. “Just a passing beggar. I shooed him off.”
Bai Wan: “…”
Beggar is one thing, but did she really have to add useless beggar? She was definitely shading him.
Following Bai Xi inside, Bai Wan found himself in a small room, clearly his sister’s NPC space.
Bai Xi closed the door carefully and pouted, “Bro, my character this run is so boring, just a normal villager. And Grandpa’s super strict, he won’t even let me out of the house.”
She’d wanted to explore the plot properly once she spawned in, but she’d ended up grounded the whole time.
During the day, Grandpa kept watch. And at night—well, she wasn’t brave enough to sneak out. This was a paranormal game, after all.
“That’s normal. Your character skill’s still low-level,” Bai Wan said easily. Mario’s Coin Room had started out useless too—no coins, no extra rooms. Now it was about to unlock the hidden Star Chamber. He was looking forward to that first blue hammer reward, probably a new weapon. Skills always ramped up with levels.
“Later you’ll get more options too. Maybe someday you’ll spawn as the main NPC yourself. Like this time, you could have been the ghost wife! Then you’d just write me a letter saying: ‘Dear Brother, I’m your ghost sister. The solution is XYZ, the kill condition is ABC.’ And boom! Instant clear!”
Bai Xi’s eyes went wide. “Wait… we can do that?”
“Of course! We’d rack up paranormal coins in no time!” Bai Wan said, eyes shining.
“Awesome!”
Brother and sister high-fived—dreaming about scamming coins for life.
“But time’s tight now. Spill it, did you learn anything these days? Do you know where Xilin is? Or anything about this Lin Yuan guy?” Bai Wan cut back to business.
“Relax, relax…I’ll tell you everything. Grandpa wouldn’t let me leave, but I pulled my best puppy eyes and got him talking,” Bai Xi said proudly.
She grinned and went on: “First, Lin Yuan. He’s a local painter. He had a wife, but three years ago she drowned at sea. Supposedly, they were really close.”
Drowned, huh? Bai Wan noted that mentally. He’d only known Lin Yuan’s wife was dead, he hadn’t known how. So that was progress.
Bai Xi continued: “As for Xilin, it’s not west at all. It’s actually east, past a little creek. You cross the creek, and you’ll find it. So it’s actually Creek Grove, not West Grove.”
Bai Wan felt a bit of relief when he heard this and praised her, “As expected of my good little sister.”
Now that they knew where Xilin was, the only thing left was to dig up the buried painting in the grove.
But Bai Xi’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Bro… unless it’s absolutely necessary, don’t go to Xilin. That place is really sinister.”
“Hm?” Bai Wan wasn’t surprised by that—after all, if it was the main story location in a paranormal game, there was no way it’d be harmless.
But what his sister said next made him even more cautious.
“I snuck out of the house once for a bit. But Grandpa warned me again and again—he said I could go anywhere, except Xilin… In Mingkou Village, Xilin is a terrifying taboo. Once you go in, you don’t come back. There are so many ghost stories about it too…” Bai Xi still remembered Grandpa’s terrified expression when he mentioned Xilin.
“But! I managed to squeeze a few clues out of him for you.” Bai Xi blinked proudly, giving him an ‘Aren’t I awesome?’ look.
“Not the time to brag, just spill it. Yes, yes, my sister is the best.” Bai Wan replied in the most perfunctory tone possible.
Bai Xi rolled her eyes, “There are lots of scary stories about Xilin. The worst one is about the Ghost Burial Mound. Grandpa said once, a hunter went into the grove to hunt. A fog rolled in. He got lost, and ended up somewhere full of gravestones—like the living world had vanished and he’d stepped into the land of the dead."
“He even saw a terrifying blood-red skeleton deep in the graves. The hunter barely escaped alive, but the next day, he went completely insane. Since then, people in the village have been dying off or moving away. Now only some stubborn old folks who aren’t afraid to die are left.” Bai Xi grinned as she explained.
Bai Wan froze for a second, then his eyes lit up.
A blood-red skeleton? Wasn’t that exactly the store he’d been hunting for?
So it was hidden in Xilin—his lead to the special profession and the rare recipe he needed. He had to get it.
“Be careful, okay? Xilin must be the scariest part of this whole dungeon… That burial ground is not something to mess with,” Bai Xi reminded him.
Bai Wan nodded. A hidden dark-blood skeleton store like that wouldn’t be easy to find—let alone safe.
Still, he had to try.
He had enough trump cards now, he’d give it a shot. This might be his only chance to get the Desolate Village dungeon access and chase down the Ghostsmith lead to fix his Ghost Ship and unlock the special Captain class.
“Thanks, really.” Bai Wan turned to look at his sister.
Bai Xi flashed him a bright, innocent smile, shaking her head, “Being able to help my big brother makes me really happy too. After all, you’re the most important family I have…”
She reached out, gently grasping his hand.
“Let’s survive this together. Clear the game…together. I’ll always be right behind you.”
Bai Wan chuckled at that and said, “Got it. When this is over, I’ll share my coins with you. Happy?”
Bai Xi’s face bloomed with an adorable grin. “Aiya, come on now—don’t be so distant! What coins? We’re family! How could you think I’m that shallow, hehe~”
Bai Wan just rolled his eyes. He couldn’t be bothered to argue with this little drama queen.
“I’m heading out. Time’s tight.”
He’d gotten all the info he needed, time to get moving toward Xilin.
Bai Xi nodded and pulled a key out of her pocket, handing it to him. “This is Grandpa’s truck key. I swiped it. It’s parked right outside. You guys can take it. Saves a lot of time.”
Bai Wan took the key and eyed the stuffed bags behind Bai Xi.
“Try not to swipe too much, will you? Poor old grandpa’s got it tough enough.”
He peeked inside the bag, and was speechless.
“What do you need his broken kettle for? And whose gross old slipper is this—wait—ugh, it stinks! You stole his slippers too?”
She was practically looting the entire house—truck key included.
“Aiya, these are all dungeon items! They’re collectibles, okay? Who knows, might fetch a few para-coins. And what’s wrong with a busted slipper? Maybe it’s a ghost artifact! And it’s not stealing—I’m his official granddaughter in this run, so this is all technically my inheritance!” Bai Xi hugged her pile of junk, eyes sparkling like stars.
Bai Wan’s mouth twitched.
An artifact? What, is she gonna kill a ghost with the stench?
Whatever. He couldn’t do anything about his money-grubbing, shiny-grabbing, crow-like sister.
Ignoring her nonsense, Bai Wan headed outside, trying not to look too guilty as he started up Grandpa’s old truck and drove off to meet the others at their rendezvous point.
…
Everyone was already there—when they saw Bai Wan pull up, driving a truck, they were visibly shocked.
Of course. Leave it to this guy to come up with a truck.
Once he got out, he shared all the info he’d gathered—except the part about Bai Xi and the dark-blood skeleton store. Everything else, he gave up freely.
Sun Qian had intel too.
“I found an old widow who told me: Xilin is actually a grove past the creek. Her husband went in to chop firewood last year. Never came back. So yeah… it’s haunted.” Sun Qian relayed grimly.
Everyone grimaced. Between Bai Wan’s and Sun Qian’s info, there was no doubt—Xilin was the village’s forbidden place. No sane villager dared step near it.
But the players had no choice.
Lin Yuan’s paintings were buried there, if they didn’t retrieve them, they couldn’t answer the ghost wife’s letters.
“My friends… we have no choice. We’re heading to Xilin, and we have to be back in the cabin by ten tonight.”
They’d already lost enough time gathering intel—no more wasting it. Fortunately, Bai Wan somehow managed to find them a truck. This would save a ton of time.
So Sun Qian drove, while the others squeezed into the truck bed, bouncing toward Xilin.
The whole time, Su Yuening kept glaring at Bai Wan, as if silently warning him: Don’t you dare blow another tire. They didn’t exactly have spares in this dungeon.
Bai Wan just shrugged innocently. It wasn’t his fault the tires blew last time! Just bad luck—how was that his problem?
Thankfully, the drive went smoothly this time. They reached the little creek the villagers had described.
Everyone piled out. Up ahead was a narrow bridge that was too tight for the truck to cross.
They stood by the creek’s edge, staring at the dark water. None of them felt at ease.
Besides Xilin’s haunted stories, this river had its own rumors… they said many had drowned here—bitter souls lurking below, waiting to drag the living down with them.
“Alright…no other way. We’re crossing on foot. Once we’re over, we’re in Xilin,” Sun Qian said, staring at the old bridge ahead.