Ch. 47 - The Real Dreamscape

Bai Wan slammed the brakes.

Sun Qian’s face darkened.

Had the ghost from the cabin followed them here? 

But… Bai Wan had already cracked that ghost’s kill pattern. That thing only targets single people—a ruthless executioner of the unattached. 

As long as you pretend to be a couple, it wouldn’t make a move.

…Wait!

No. Something’s wrong!

Sun Qian suddenly remembered: Luo Ya and Xu Bing were dead—which meant he and Wang Jian were single again!

They now matched the ghost’s killing condition. The ghost was after Wang Jian!

Sure enough, just as Sun Qian realized this, he saw the ghost at the back of the truck drift over to Wang Jian, reaching for him with a pale, icy hand.

The air turned cold. Even the sunlight seemed to dim.

Wang Jian’s expression changed drastically. He’d already felt the chill the moment the ghost got close, but he didn’t dare move. He’d used his last Black Skull item in the forest.

He reached the same conclusion as Sun Qian—the ghost was targeting him now.

Then, in a moment of desperation, Wang Jian had a flash of inspiration. He clenched his jaw, shoved his grief aside, and hugged his gold and silver girlfriends tight in his arms, shouting in terror at the ghost:

“D-Don’t come any closer! I have a girlfriend!”

A pause.

“Actually, I have two!!”

Then he steeled himself—and kissed both of his cold, metal-lipped girlfriends right on their iron mouths.

Mwah!

Pzzz—Mwah!

Ghost: “???”

The ghost froze on the spot.

What the hell are young people into these days?

Staring at the gold and silver women in Wang Jian’s arms, the ghost just… paused.

Is this cosplay?

It stood there like its brain had crashed, hesitating for a long time. 

Eventually, it turned its head… and locked eyes with Sun Qian, its face twisting with malice.

Sun Qian: “???”

What in the hell?! That worked?!

You’re seriously calling those girlfriends?! Are you kidding me?!

Wang Jian is one thing, but you—you’re a ghost! How are you this stupid?!

The ghost lunged at him. 

Sun Qian immediately bailed out of the truck.

Shhh!

Thick, malicious energy flared from the ghost’s body. It was almost on him when Sun Qian twisted agilely and leapt into the truck bed.

“Yo, little bro!” he shouted at Wang Jian. “Lend me your silver girlfriend!”

Wang Jian: “???”

Sun Qian snatched the silver one into his arms and turned to the ghost, shouting nervously:

“The silver one’s mine! I was just letting Wang Jian borrow her earlier! The gold one’s his!”

He clutched the back of the silver girlfriend’s head and pulled her into a French kiss—full of sincerity.

The ghost: “???”

Wang Jian: “…???”

The ghost once again froze like a bricked-up AI.

Are humans this… unhinged now?

It didn’t know how to process this anymore.

The ghost moved closer, extending its hand to grab both gold and silver girlfriends. One in each arm, it sniffed them curiously.

A few seconds later, its face twisted with fury. Whatever these things were—they were definitely not human.

Wang Jian and Sun Qian both paled.

Shit. We’re busted.

Thinking fast, Sun Qian slapped Wang Jian on the shoulder and blurted, “My Jian, I won’t hide it anymore—I’ve had feelings for you for a long time. Be my boyfriend. Mwah~”

Wang Jian: “???”

He blinked—then caught on fast.

“Oh! Bro, why didn’t you say so earlier? I’ve liked you for ages too! My girlfriends were just a cover. I’ve been waiting for your confession all this time!”

“…You’re still calling me ‘bro’?”

“…H-Hubby??”

“Now you’ve got it! We’re together now!”

And the two of them embraced with teary passion.

The ghost: “……”

It stood there motionless—looking as dumbfounded and vacant-minded as one of Bai Wan’s summoned Wall-nuts.

After a long pause, it finally understood why the two of them could share girlfriends so openly.

Ah… so that’s how it is.

The ghost nodded, enlightened. 

It didn’t kill anyone—but it didn’t leave either. It just stood at the back of the truck, silently watching Wang Jian and Sun Qian.

…

Inside the truck, Bai Wan was speechless. He had no idea why this situation had devolved into whatever the hell this was.

But glancing at the time, he decided not to dwell on it. There wasn’t much time left—and technically, they did have their gold and silver girlfriends with them. That probably counted as safe cover.

So he shifted gears and started driving again.

The ride grew more and more awkward. 

Sun Qian looked mildly embarrassed, but he was handling it. Wang Jian, on the other hand, was on the verge of collapse.

In just a few short hours, his girlfriend had died, he’d acquired a gold mistress and a silver mistress… and now he apparently had a husband too. What the actual hell was his life anymore?

After another hour, they reached the neighboring county. The town was quiet, with few people on the streets. Bai Wan didn’t have time to wander—he drove straight to the Xinghai Art Gallery.

It only took five minutes to arrive.

He walked up to a staff member and asked, “Hello, I was wondering… do you have a painting titled Dreamscape on display?”

The staff glanced at Bai Wan—with a half-meter-wide frame on his back, he looked like some kind of performance artist. Then she looked at the two large men behind him, and her expression turned even weirder.

“…Please follow me.” She led them into an exhibit hall filled with elegant Chinese paintings.

Eventually, she guided them to the innermost wall, pointing to a framed work.

“You’re probably looking for this one.”

The moment Sun Qian and the others saw it — their jaws dropped.

There it was: hanging in a gold-threaded nanmu wood frame.

The painting showed a dark, stormy seascape, beneath a blood-red moon. A cruise ship was being battered by waves. At the ship’s edge, a small man leaned out, reaching downward — as if trying to grab something. His expression was unclear.

But following the angle of his outstretched hand… everyone’s breath caught.

He was reaching for a woman—a very clear, vividly painted woman.

Her face was etched with heartbreak and despair, just moments from being swallowed by the stormy sea. Her sorrow, her pain, rendered in just a few bold brushstrokes—yet so realistic it made you feel like you were there, watching her fall.

What shocked them most was that this painting was complete. 

Not unfinished, as the ghost wife had claimed.

Dreamscape had long since been completed and delivered to the art gallery.

What the hell is going on?

Bai Wan stood in front of it… and smiled.

So that’s it.

This is the final truth.

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