The words Fang Chen wanted to say lingered on his tongue, yet faded away before taking form.

Tribute—if you don’t kill, you’ll be sacrificed.

After witnessing the brutal fates of Zhang Bin and Rong Rong, everyone treated the idea of the Tribute with palpable fear, desperate not to be the next victim. But what about him? If Yan Xuan knew he was the Tribute, would his reaction be the same?

Fang Chen hesitated only a moment before giving the opposite answer.

"No."

Yan Xuan’s eyes flashed with a hint of disappointment. “Alright, I believe you.” He sighed and lay back down, gazing at the sky. “I thought maybe you’d drawn the Tribute and were rushing to find a way out, running after that red-robed ghost with an axe.”

Fang Chen’s heart skipped, but he forced a smile. “Of course not.”

This guy, he always seemed to see right through people.

"So what’s with the sudden eagerness?" Yan Xuan asked, his expression curious.

“I just don’t want to see anyone else get hurt.” Fang Chen flexed his hands, resting them behind his head. “Whether I’m the Tribute or not, this game needs to end.”

He could still recall the image of Rong Rong pleading tearfully, a scene that had shaken everyone. It was Fang Chen who had firmly shut the door on any idea of mercy, who had driven her to the edge.

He couldn’t say he was entirely without guilt.

“So you’re swinging an axe all night? Even the red-robed ghost might be scared off seeing that,” Yan Xuan teased.

“Actually, you’re right about that.” Fang Chen clicked his tongue, exasperated. He’d braced himself for an ambush, staying on high alert all night, only to not see so much as a ghost.

He thought of the blood-choked words, “Give it back.” Had the ghost finally escaped the attic and gone in search of the long-lost item she’d so desperately wanted?

Where would she go? The thought was unsettling.

“I’ve noticed you have a thing for danger,” Yan Xuan observed dryly.

“Risk and reward go hand in hand. It’s getting late; let’s go back.” Fang Chen dusted off his sleeves as he stood up.

But before he could take another step, Yan Xuan caught his wrist, halting him.

“We’re already here. Don’t you think the moonlight looks nice?”

Following Yan Xuan’s gaze, he saw the clouds had mostly cleared, revealing the moon in its full glory. Its pale light fell gently on the grass, casting a sense of peace.

There was a quiet serenity in the air, as if the world had vanished, leaving just the two of them under the sky.

“Alright,” Fang Chen relented, leaning against the tree. Time was ticking, but perhaps this small pause didn’t matter so much. Besides, it didn’t feel like a waste.

The next morning, Fang Chen arrived at the main hall right on time, finding everyone seated around the table, waiting intently.

As he pulled out a chair, Bai Li subtly scooted away.

Given what happened to Zhang Bin, everyone held a certain level of caution toward those bold enough to roam around at night.

“Hey, where’s your axe?” Li Duo asked, craning his neck, rubbing his hands together.

As soon as the words left his mouth, several pairs of eyes zeroed in on Fang Chen, waiting.

“It’s back in my room.”

Before he could take a bite, Lu Wanting mumbled through her mouthful of bread, “Do you really need to get it at night? We could all go during the day.”

“The sooner I get it, the better I feel.”

“Then why don’t you carry it around?” Bai Li asked, looking sleep-deprived.

“It’s not to protect me from you.” Fang Chen raised a brow, giving Bai Li a bemused look that said, “Are you serious?”

The air grew thick with suspicion, everyone casting furtive glances, probing for answers. It seemed this scrutiny wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon.

Bai Li muttered, “Maybe I should get one, too.”

Fang Chen side-eyed him, “You’re lucky if it doesn’t get taken from you as a weapon.”

Caught off guard, Bai Li’s mouth opened, words failing him as he realized he had no counter and turned away, defeated, gnawing angrily on his bread.

“Relax, at least for today,” Liu Mang said, leaning back lazily in his chair. “I doubt anything will happen.”

Indeed, Fang Chen had noticed the same thing. They’d all been gathered for quite a while, yet there was no shortness of breath or sense of suffocation. It seemed that today was the carpenter’s “grace day.” The restriction on gathering was temporarily lifted—most likely to ease everyone into a false sense of security, giving the Tribute the perfect opportunity to strike.

And with the likelihood of suffocating restrictions returning tomorrow, the urgency had only heightened.

After a hasty meal, the group made their way to the dense forest in the south. Setting foot in the area again, they immediately noticed a familiar yet unsettling figure.

“Zhang Bin… he’s still here,” Meng Qiyan murmured, clutching her bag close, her voice trembling.

After witnessing Rong Rong’s horrifying death and reluctantly accepting the supernatural happenings around them, it almost felt logical to assume his corpse would vanish, turning into wood like hers. Yet there he lay, only this time his body had shifted from being propped against a tree to lying awkwardly on the ground, his toes pointing skyward, face buried in the soil.

“Maybe the wind blew him over,” Lu Wanting muttered, shuddering as she averted her gaze. “Forget it; let’s focus on finding the music box.”

“Are we really supposed to search in this place? Doesn’t it give you the creeps?” she added, eyeing the dimly lit forest, where shadows intermingled with layers of foliage. Every few steps, she felt an impulse to look back, dreading the possibility of the corpse coming back to life. This was not a task for the faint-hearted.

“Right, Fang…” Meng Qiyan began, hoping for some reassurance, only to see Fang Chen absorbed in examining the photo, completely engrossed, as if saying, “Please don’t disturb me.”

Disappointed, she turned to Yan Xuan, “And you, Yan—”

Only to find him, too, lost in his own world. With one hand in his pocket, he gazed up lazily at the dense canopy, his indifferent stance radiating a serene detachment, as a few shafts of sunlight filtered through the leaves, falling into his deep, dark eyes like a tranquil saintly aura.

Reluctant to disturb such peace, Meng Qiyan slunk away.

Judging from the diary entry and the photo, the music box should be hidden somewhere in this forest, but exactly where? No other clues seemed to give anything away. Fang Chen focused intently on the picture, deep in thought.

Suddenly, a loud clang jolted him back to reality.

Li Duo huffed as he carried over a bundle of axes, dropping them in front of everyone. “Here, one for each of you.”

“What’s this about?” Fang Chen asked, confused.

“Digging.”

“Are you kidding me?” Meng Qiyan protested, stretching her arms to gesture at the vast expanse of trees. “This forest is huge!”

“Our priority is finding the music box, and if the clues point here, it’s probably buried somewhere,” Li Duo explained.

“But in the photo, the carpenter was holding a shovel, and we don’t even have proper tools for this…”

Without missing a beat, Li Duo lifted his axe. “With the right angle, this can work just like a shovel.”

And to prove his point, he swung it down into the earth, casting an expectant look at the others. “What’re you all standing around for? Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

With a sigh, Lu Wanting begrudgingly agreed, “Looks like we have no other choice.”

Everyone exchanged reluctant glances but eventually joined in. Li Duo even took the time to divide the search areas for them. Soon enough, the air was filled with groans and complaints.

“This… this pace is painful to watch,” Liu Mang shook his head, watching Bai Li’s shaky arms struggle.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Bai Li retorted, throwing his axe down in frustration. “Look at you! You don’t even seem like you’re trying!”

Liu Mang had settled into a relaxed stance, looking just like he did during the logging session.

“I have my reasons.”

“Reasons for what?”

“For sunbathing.”

“You’re just slacking off!”

“If we’re pointing fingers, those two over there aren’t exactly helping either.” Liu Mang nodded toward Fang Chen and Yan Xuan in the distance, the two of them standing around a tree, murmuring in hushed tones.

Bai Li’s frustration boiled over, and he was just about to go over to confront them when Fang Chen raised a hand, calling out, “Everyone, stop. We found it.”