Bai Wan turned to the gallery staff and asked, “Excuse me, do you know when this painting was delivered to the museum?”

The staff member clearly knew the piece well and responded immediately, “This was a famous work by Mr. Lin Yuan. He delivered it to us three years ago. It’s one of our treasured exhibits. Sadly, while he was working on the piece, his wife, who loved him dearly and always supported his work—died in a tragic accident aboard a cruise ship. She never got to see him rise to fame.”

Three years ago…

Sun Qian and the others were completely stunned.

“Why would it be from three years ago…? Lin Yuan, he…”

Bai Wan smiled and explained, “You still don’t get it? From the very beginning, we were caught in the game’s trap.”

“This so-called ghost letter…was never a ghost letter to begin with. Did you not think it was strange? Why would we—a gang of robbers, target some dirt-poor artist? But the stuff we dug up in Xilin? It was worth a lot. And the letter claimed Dreamscape was still only half-finished… yet here it is, completed, framed, and hung in a gallery. Delivered three years ago.”

“There’s only one answer. The recipient of the letter wasn’t some dead wife—it was Lin Yuan’s wife, Xinran—alive. Three years ago, before she died! Our reply letter crossed time and space. So this isn’t a Ghost Letter at all. It should be called Time Letter!”

Sun Qian’s eyes went wide.

Only now did they realize—the dungeon’s name was just “The Letter.” It never said anything about it being ghostly or haunted. Had that been a deliberate misdirection from the start?

Even Su Yuening was stunned. All her lingering doubts instantly fell into place.

So that’s where the money came from…

She’d been puzzled for a long time—how a poor painter could possess so much wealth. Now it made sense.

The timeline of The Letter was split: the letters were sent three years in the past, but the players were operating three years in the future. Three years ago, Lin Yuan was just a struggling artist. Three years later, he was a celebrated painter.

Bai Wan pulled out Xinran’s reply letter and scribbled a line on it: 

[Don’t board the ship any time soon.]

As soon as he finished writing, the letter vanished—transmitted back to the past.

Xinran’s death had occurred during the time Lin Yuan was painting Dreamscape. So if she was warned ahead of time… the tragedy could be avoided.

And sure enough, the moment the letter disappeared, the black mist ghost who had followed them this far also began to fade.

Eventually, everyone could clearly see her true form—not Lin Yuan, but… the woman from the painting back in the cabin.

Xinran.

Everyone stared in disbelief.

So the ghost chasing them all this time…was Xinran, all along?!

“She died in an accident three years ago, and her spirit lingered ever since. Because she loved Lin Yuan so much, even after death she stayed by his side, guarding him as he painted…

“And we, acting out of greed, targeted Lin Yuan—which made her lash out in defense,” Su Yuening murmured, eyes softening.

In her heart, a beautiful story began to take shape.

A couple whose love wasn’t blessed by their families, beginning a long-distance relationship across time. Xinran had believed in Lin Yuan’s talent, and believed that he would one day become famous. But fate was cruel. A disaster struck, and she died before his success.

Even in death, the long-distance love continued. She became a spirit, lingering at his side, determined to witness the day he finally made it.

Wang Jian spoke, still dazed. “So… the way to survive was just to warn Xinran three years ago not to board that ship. That way, the accident never happens. And present-day ghost Xinran disappears.”

Bai Wan nodded. “Exactly. And if you think about it, the dungeon’s seven-day limit probably isn’t random either. It’s likely the time window before Xinran’s death in the past. If we didn’t send the warning before then, history couldn’t be changed—and current-day Xinran would lose all restraints. Not even the dungeon’s rules could contain her then. She would become a truly unsolvable ghost.”

That was the core truth of the “Letter” dungeon.

And Bai Wan had to admit—this dungeon was masterfully misleading.

Because it was a paranormal game, everyone assumed “The Letter” meant “Ghost Letter.” And out of fear of provoking a ghost, no one dared probe too deeply into the sender’s identity. The reply letters were always vague. No one had realized… that the writer, Xinran, was from three years ago.

Add in the fact that the town was mostly empty, and the few people left didn’t cooperate with investigations—players were left with too little intel, easily misled.

That’s how the system guided them into the wrong path: Xilin, which held terrifying entities that no rookie team could ever survive.

That’s why so many groups were wiped out three times trying to clear this dungeon.

…

Suddenly, a flash of white light enveloped them all—and the group was teleported back to the courtyard of Lin Yuan’s original cabin.

A system prompt appeared:

[Congratulations, the dungeon was successfully cleared. You will return in one hour automatically, or may exit manually. Upon exit, final rewards will be distributed.]

Sun Qian and the others were ecstatic.

They actually cleared it!

An unsolvable-class dungeon! The rewards would be massive.

One by one, they exited the dungeon to receive their prizes.

Su Yuening turned back to look at Bai Wan. “You’re not coming?”

He looked slightly distracted. “Give me a minute…I feel like I’ve missed something. I’ll be right there. You go first.”

She didn’t press him. “Alright. I’ll wait outside.”

She turned and exited. Ten seconds later, the countdown completed, and she vanished.

Only Bai Wan remained, standing in the courtyard of Lin Yuan’s home.

His mind was filled with one image: the painting—Xinran, falling into the sea, her face full of despair and helplessness.

But even then…something about it had felt off. 

He tried to recall the scene again.

What’s wrong with it?

Suddenly, a chill ran through him. He remembered the expression on Xinran’s face just before she fell—beyond despair, there had been shock, even terror. 

Her eyes, wide with fear… had been staring directly at Lin Yuan.

Why would she look at him like that?

And then he remembered Lin Yuan’s outstretched hand in the painting—the one reaching for her.

Was that hand really reaching out to save her… or was it pushing her off the ship?

Bai Wan felt a shiver crawl down his spine. He suddenly realized—Lin Yuan’s face in the painting had been blurred.

Why?

As he stared harder, that blurred expression began to sharpen…transforming into a twisted, maniacal grin.

A deranged smile.

A man gazing down at his wife as she fell into the sea… eyes locked on her face… savoring every detail of her dying expression… and immortalizing it in paint.

A single drop of cold sweat slid down Bai Wan’s cheek.

He’d faced any paranormal without flinching.

But this… this was something far worse.

No… could something this monstrous even be called human anymore?

Xinran’s despair hadn’t come from falling. It had come from her husband.

The man she had given up everything to follow, the man she had loved for years—had, in the end, pushed her into the ocean just to capture her fear.

All for a painting. All for fame.

He had lost his mind, consumed by his obsession with art and glory.

Wait… then where is Lin Yuan?

The thought struck Bai Wan like a bolt. If they had always assumed the ghost was Xinran…then where had Lin Yuan gone?

Thump!

Suddenly, Bai Wan’s heart began to pound violently.

Thump-thump!

The sensation was overwhelming, like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. It was far more intense than the heartbeat warnings in Xilin.

Thump-thump-thump! Thump-thump-thump!

He felt something stir behind him…there was movement at the warehouse door.

Bai Wan’s whole body went rigid. He couldn’t move.

Then, in sync with the pulsing heartbeat—the long-abandoned warehouse door slowly creaked open.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!! THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!!!

Creeeeak—

A thin gap widened in the warehouse door.

From the shadows peered half a man’s face—his eyes blazing with madness, his lips curled in a gentle scholar’s smile.

He stood there, in the doorway, staring directly at Bai Wan’s back.

Shfft!

Cold sweat streamed down Bai Wan’s spine. His hair stood on end.

Without hesitation—he triggered the dungeon exit.

Ten-second countdown began!

He had not expected this. Lin Yuan had been hiding in the warehouse the entire time—the man who killed his wife to complete a painting… a monster.

The heartbeat warning alone told him just how terrifying this man was.

Wait.

If Lin Yuan killed his wife for a painting and it’s now been three years—then there’s no way this monster had just been sitting idle.

Bai Wan slowly turned his head. What he saw made his blood run cold.

That twisted painter was staring out from the warehouse—and floating above him… were countless ghostly silhouettes.

Auughhh…wuuuu

The cries of the dead echoed in the air.

A swarm of spirits filled the space behind him, and among them was Xinran.

Bai Wan’s scalp went numb.

These ghosts—he recognized them. They were from Xilin’s mass graves.

No way…

Did Lin Yuan kill all of them himself over the last three years?!

How many people has this monster murdered?!

Hhfff—

Bai Wan inhaled sharply.

Staring at the nightmare before him, he froze in terror for several seconds.

…No.

Now wasn’t the time to freeze.

Now was the time…

To DANCE.

“Feast your eyes upon this ultimate performance—the Kun Dance!”

Under the watchful eyes of the twisted “Lin Yuan” and his ghostly horde, Bai Wan suddenly flung off his coat and tossed it dramatically aside. 

With a dramatic spin, he planted his feet wide apart, hands clasping the air as if gripping something unseen, throwing his back rhythmically from side to side, shoulder checking randomly. His hair whipped wildly as he twisted and thrashed with flair like a popstar.

Slapping the air rhythmically, he pointed at Lin Yuan and shouted:

“Hey! Lin Yuan, you’re too beautiful! Shoulder check!”

“Greetings, my fellow paranormal friends! I’m Bai Wan, a two-and-a-half-week Para-Hunter intern! My specialties include rap battles, basketball, glitching dungeons, and grave demolition. Music—drop the beat!”

“DUN DUN DUN DUN! DUN DUN—LIN YUAN, YOU’RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!! DUN DUN DUN— LIN YUAN, YOU’RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!! Bebe~ OH~”

Lin Yuan: “???”

As Lin Yuan watched, dumbfounded, Bai Wan leapt into the air.

Mid-spin, he turned to face the crowd of ghosts, arms crossed, then swung downward, head bobbing in chaotic rhythm. Finally, he struck a pose—one hand cupping his crotch, the other waving grandly at the specters, his lips curled in a smug, inexplicable smile.

The oppressive, terrifying atmosphere… broke instantly.

All the ghostly wraiths froze in place.

Even Lin Yuan—moments ago a picture of madness—looked utterly lost.

Then, bizarrely… streams of Paranormal Coins began pouring from the ghosts toward Bai Wan. Even one of the paintings in Lin Yuan’s hands flew through the air and landed at Bai Wan’s feet.

But Lin Yuan was only stunned for a few seconds.

He lunged, hand outstretched toward Bai Wan. A wave of crushing spiritual pressure erupted in that instant.

Bai Wan felt his chest tighten—he could hardly breathe, but his confident smile didn’t waver. He leapt again!

And in midair, he performed a perfect Kun Flash.

Somehow, impossibly—the ghostly silhouette of a Kun, a massive mythical fish shimmered around him, phasing him cleanly past Lin Yuan’s grasp.

Landing, he grabbed his belt with one hand and shakily raised the other above his head. He strained to split his fingers apart, forming a triumphant victory peace-pose.

At that moment—the countdown hit zero.

Fwoosh!

Bai Wan vanished from the dungeon.

As he left, a voice whispered in his ear:

[You have obtained the temporary bug skill: Kun Flash!]

Kun Flash

Level: 1 (Upgradeable. Higher level increases trigger rate.)

Effect: When targeted by a paranormal attack, has a chance to trigger Kun Flash, allowing perfect evasion.

Current Trigger Chance: 10%

Even on his way out—he’d unlocked a new bug skill.

When he opened his eyes again, he was home, and the system screen began to display his results.

Bai Wan’s heart pounded. This was an unsolvable-class dungeon—the rewards had to be massive.

[Player: Bai Wan—successful clearance of dungeon: The Letter. Commencing rewards calculation…]

Achievements Earned:

Clever Strategist — Cracked the ghost wife’s kill pattern and the graveyard’s curse sequence. Base reward upgraded (C → A)

Seeker of the Living Path — Braved adversity and uncovered the true path to survival. (A → S)

Lone Valor — Fought evenly against mass grave ghosts, far beyond rookie tier. (S → SS)

First-Clear Bonus Multiplier (SS → SSS)

Paranormal Coin Reward: 1,000

Bonus: First player to achieve SSS rating in this dungeon — additional 1,000 Paranormal Coins.

Total: 2,000 Paranormal Coins

Bai Wan blinked at the screen, stunned.

Two thousand Paranormal Coins.

He’d never seen that much money in his life.

Thanks to his bug abilities, he’d brute-forced through the graveyard—even in an unsolvable dungeon—and earned unprecedented results.

And on top of that, he’d squeezed in a last-minute dance routine. That probably netted him another seven or eight hundred Paranormal Coins from stunned ghosts. He was now sitting at close to three thousand.

Rich. He’s now truly rich.

The rewards weren’t over yet.

[Due to your exceptional performance in “The Letter” dungeon, you have received a reward: Time Letter.]

A letter materialized before him—the exact one Xinran had written to Lin Yuan.

Before he could examine it, the system chimed again.

[Due to your in-dungeon dancing in front of a crowd of ghosts, and mass destruction of tombstones… you have earned two rare titles—]

Translator Note:

Hi, Yue here. This is gonna be a pain to explain, but I’ll try my best.

1. “You’re Too Beautiful!!” — 鸡你太美 Meme Adaptation

This meme segment is based on a notorious Chinese internet phenomenon: the misheard phrase “鸡你太美” . It originates from an intense dance performance of the song “You Are the Most Beautiful” (你最美) by singer Cai Xukun, which netizens mockingly reinterpreted as “chicken you’re too beautiful” due to slurred pronunciation and over-the-top moves.

The meme quickly evolved into a full-on choreographic joke—with exaggerated hip thrusts, finger snaps, and random shoulder checks.

This was such a famous meme in China, even after 5 years.

2. The name “Kun Flash” is a pun.

Kun refers both to: The mythical giant fish (鲲) from Daoist legend that transforms and soars beyond limits—and the legendary shoulder checking Kun Dance.

Here’s the link to the referenced dance: CLICK ME