Chapter 71: Ancient Painting

At that moment, the rusty iron door of the dilapidated little building swung open. An elder, dressed in traditional attire and bearing an air of scholarly elegance, stepped out and greeted Li Changluo and Lord Long Qi with respectful invitation.

He wore a carefully tailored black robe with brown trim and gold-rimmed spectacles, his face adorned with a neatly trimmed goatee which lent him a distinguished appearance.

However...

“Did you just say, ‘Welcome to the Haunted House?’” Li Changluo stared at him in confusion.

“No, you misheard. I said, ‘Welcome to the Home of Return,’ as in returning to one’s origin. Young man, let’s not joke about such things,” the elder replied, smiling awkwardly yet maintaining courtesy, patiently explaining to Li Changluo.

Li Changluo gazed at him expressionlessly...

Here, in this desolate wilderness, stood a solitary house, its exterior so eerie and forbidding...

He’d just let slip—haunted house...

Who does he think he’s fooling?

Home of Return? Return your—!

“Haha, young man, I see disbelief in your eyes. Why not step inside and see for yourself?” The elder, still smiling, addressed Li Changluo.

Though he spoke to Li Changluo, his gaze lingered upon Lord Long Qi.

This old man is up to no good...

Having only just escaped that strange residential maze, Li Changluo was no fool; this pit of fire laid out before him could not be more obvious.

Would he jump in?

“Do you still persist in folly?” Lord Long Qi looked coldly at the elder, speaking in riddles.

Yet the elder did not pursue the meaning behind Lord Long Qi’s cryptic words. Instead, he elegantly gestured for them to enter.

Lord Long Qi scoffed, said nothing more, and strode straight through the iron gate into the building.

The elder turned to Li Changluo and gestured invitingly once again.

“I need to get home and finish my homework, so I’ll pass,” Li Changluo replied cheerfully.

He found the place highly suspicious, as if a trap had placed a sign reading, “I am a trap, hurry up and jump in!”

He certainly wasn’t that foolish.

With that, he hurriedly fled along the path he’d come.

He had no interest in battling a horde of comic book characters...

Isn’t it better to win by doing nothing?

However...

As he walked, he noticed a familiar feeling.

After several steps, he found himself inexplicably looping back, ending up once more before the iron gate of the little building.

Again? This was just like the maze in the strange residential area earlier—a ghostly trap that wouldn’t let him escape.

How exhausting.

Li Changluo repeated his run several times, but every attempt to leave brought him back to the iron gate.

“Please, young man.”

“It’s getting late, why not spend the night in the Home of Return?”

“Young man, what are you doing?”

“Please, calm yourself.”

“Young man, try taking a deep breath.”

“……”

“If you move again, I swear—!”

The composed, refined, and courteous elder was finally driven to swearing by Li Changluo.

“……”

Embarrassed, Li Changluo moved the lighter he’d been holding away from the elder’s goatee.

The elder’s carefully groomed goatee was smoking, the scent of singed hair wafting through the air.

Things hadn’t gone as planned.

Li Changluo had thought everything here was like that strange residential district, mere paintings that could be burned away. So he’d torched the elder’s beard.

Clearly, he’d overthought it.

Now, although the elder maintained a polite smile, his eyes betrayed murderous intent toward Li Changluo.

“Is there anything to eat?” Li Changluo asked gruffly.

He knew when to yield, and not only did he yield, he aimed to profit. In this, he was not merely clever—he was shameless.

“Excuse me?” The elder paused, then smiled, “Hungry?”

Li Changluo nodded fiercely. He wasn’t actually hungry—monsters never are—but he was resentful at being forced into this pit.

Resentful, deeply resentful.

What irritated him further was that that idiot Long Qi had leapt into the pit without hesitation.

Couldn’t he at least resist a little?

With no other option, Li Changluo obediently followed the elder through the iron gate.

Inside was a small courtyard, a faded red lantern hanging before the building. In the dim light, Li Changluo could finally see the yard clearly...

Only weeds, nothing but weeds, all overgrown and abandoned...

The elder led Li Changluo into the building. As the door opened, a musty odor surged out...

Mixed in was a peculiar, indescribable stench, making Li Changluo pinch his nose.

Past the entrance was a spacious parlor, decorated in antique style—screens, candlesticks, crescent stools, animal hide rugs...

Red candles burned on the candlesticks.

The lighting was dim.

The furnishings alone attested to the age of the building.

Ancient paintings hung along the walls, cobwebs clinging to their surfaces.

A set of precious solid wood furniture, all blanketed in dust.

In short, everything in the room gave Li Changluo the urge—

Can’t you spend a little time cleaning?

Can’t you?

“Please take a seat. I will prepare tea and refreshments for you both,” the elder bowed respectfully to them and departed.

Lord Long Qi paused before an ancient painting, surprise etched across his cold, aloof face.

Li Changluo was amused—was there anything that could surprise this guy?

A portrait of ladies?

A spring painting?

Li Changluo imagined Lord Long Qi, this noble gentleman, blushing as he admired a "classic painting" he’d never seen or heard of.

But when Li Changluo approached and took a closer look, the contents of the ancient painting startled him as well.

On the dust-covered canvas was a blue dragon, its heart and lungs gouged out, its body hacked into segments and scattered on the ground, a warrior with a broadsword standing atop its head.

The dragon’s expression was one of immense agony.

The image was so bloody that Li Changluo felt sick to his stomach.

No wonder—only such a scene could move the proud Lord Long Qi.

Li Changluo circled the parlor, noticing that the ancient paintings all shared the same style.

A dozen or so hung around the walls; clearly, the owner was an art enthusiast. The connection between the comic monsters and the owner was undeniable.

Yet what mattered to Li Changluo now were not the paintings themselves.

But rather...

Every painting depicted a dragon’s gruesome death...

It was clear that the dragon in each scene was the same one...

The only difference was that in each painting, the dragon’s demise was more horrific.

Thud, thud, thud...

Someone was descending the stairs in the parlor.