Chapter 851: Chapter 818 The Body on the Bed

Yang Jian, through triggering the medium left in this room 301, saw many terrifying and inconceivable things.

He discovered the identity of the original owner of Room 301, found Old Qin’s young sketches, and even saw that a breathtaking yet eerie face had been drawn on the faceless Puppet People–a face not belonging to the living, but identical to the woman in the Ghost paintings.

The post office, the supernatural bus, Old Qin, Ghost paintings… and the owner of Room 301 seemed to be connected to each other.

Yang Jian’s expression changed unpredictably.

But soon, what he found unbelievable at first quickly became clear to him.

Old Qin used to be a driver of the supernatural bus and it was not strange for him to come into contact with these things during that time.

Whether it’s the Headless Ghost called the Ghost Bride, or the old woman who is suspected to be the owner of Room 301, they all appeared on that supernatural bus.

So these supernatural incidents have always been related to Old Qin, not merely conjectures by Yang Jian made out of thin air, but supported by real evidence, although the evidence had been covered up.

After all, now that the supernatural bus has lost its driver, and Old Qin is retired at headquarters.

Who would have thought that the centenarian on the brink of death would have had such a shocking supernatural experience?

“The medium related to the faceless Puppet People has disappeared.”

Suddenly.

Yang Jian discovered that after the eerie old lady drew the face on the faceless Puppet People, the faceless Puppet People began to move, as if a dormant malevolent spirit had awakened, or as if the drawn face came with a Supernatural Power, prompting the Puppet People to move, so at last he only saw the Puppet People vanish from his view.

Not vanished in the true sense of the word.

But the medium had been interrupted, and he could no longer see the medium through which the Puppet People existed.

“The Puppet People have no legs.”

Yang Jian carefully recalled the scene he had seen when he first entered the room.

At that time, the faceless Puppet People were not clothed and also lacked legs, just propped up and connected by a wooden stick, similar to plastic models in a clothing store.

No legs, yet able to walk.

Defying common sense, but Yang Jian didn’t find it strange at all.

Supernatural objects, likely an unknown fierce ghost, may manifest in any possible manner of movement.

But with no legs, Yang Jian could no longer trigger the medium.

Though handprints might work, it seemed the faceless Puppet People also lacked arms…

The murder pattern of the Firewood Knife was perfectly avoided by this eerie Puppet People, one wonders whether it was a coincidence, or it was a pre-emptive defense, thus explaining the presence of this unique puppet.

“It seems the Firewood Knife is not omnipotent after all; without triggering the curse, that Puppet People can’t be easily dismembered.”

Yang Jian’s gaze flickered.

He decided to withdraw the Headless Ghost Shadow covering the room.

But the Headless Ghost Shadow was not intact; black shadows remained with many gaps, as if cut by a knife.

Because of the curse of the Firewood Knife, the Headless Ghost Shadow was still in the process of self-recovery.

With the medium disrupted.

All sorts of eerie scenes vanished from Yang Jian’s sight immediately.

The old lady who gave him chills quickly disappeared from before his eyes, alleviating the pressure in his heart.

He always felt that the old lady could harm, or even kill him through the medium, but for some reason, the old lady did not do so, maybe because Yang Jian did not trigger the murderous law.

“I shouldn’t linger here anymore, I should find Leuk Qingqing and the fierce ghost that escaped Room 301.”

Yang Jian looked at everything in the room.

Without finding Leuk Qingqing through triggering the medium, it indicated that Leuk Qingqing had never entered the room, the shadow at the window possibly wasn’t Leuk Qingqing, but rather the faceless Puppet People.

But just as he was about to leave.

Suddenly.

A white sketch paper on the easel fell down unknowingly.

The sketch on the paper depicted a twisted and eerie face, like a fierce ghost.

But as this paper fell, a new sketch appeared before Yang Jian,

That sketch was… himself.

Without a doubt.

The man on the sketch bore an almost identical resemblance to him, but the colors were suppressed, gloomy, as if veiled with an inescapable sinister aura, making one feel uncomfortable.

“My sketch portrait?”

Yang Jian’s pupils contracted at first, but after a careful inspection, he soon realized something was wrong.

Some details were incorrect.

This was not his portrait.

This was his father’s portrait.

During the New Year at his hometown, Yang Jian had experienced the Ghost Dream Event, where he saw his father and knew what his father looked like, as the father in his dreams had always maintained his appearance from a decade ago.

This sketch portrait was exactly his father from that time.

“Old Qin’s sketch appeared while I was triggering the medium, and now my father’s portrait has appeared. Indeed, the events here are connected to the supernatural bus–it’s the bus that ties everything together.”

“Characters from the Republic of China Period, a ghost controller from over a decade ago, and now…”

“It was a bus that traversed three different eras.”

“Perhaps there is a final destination for that supernatural bus, but I was in a hurry to get off at the time, so I couldn’t hold out to find out.”

“That destination might just be where all the fierce ghosts get off.”

The thought once again surfaced in Yang Jian’s mind.

Of course, he could also ask Old Qin to verify this secret.

But that would probably be quite difficult.

Old Qin knew a lot, but he said nothing.

And if a person of that caliber chose to keep their lips sealed, you would be utterly powerless against them.

“Go check out the room on the left.”

Not only did Yang Jian have to find Leuk Qingqing and the ferocious ghosts to leave this place, but he also wanted to fully uncover the secret of Room 301.

He glanced at the sketch portrait of his father.

In the end, he chose not to take the sketch portrait with him.

His father was dead; there was no need for him to keep a creepy sketch portrait around.

Yang Jian immediately turned and left the room.

There wasn’t much of a gain, just confirmation of a few things.

But just as he was turning to leave,

The character’s eyes in the dim and oppressive sketch on the drawing board eerily shifted, looking towards the direction Yang Jian had left.

Yang Jian seemed to feel something.

He abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked back.

But he discovered nothing.

The sketch on the drawing board remained as it was before, showing no sign of activity, as if what had just happened was merely an illusion.

Yang Jian’s gaze flickered, he withdrew his eyes and rapidly closed the door to the room.

The next instant.

He arrived at the room across the hall.

Without any fear,

He pushed the door directly and entered.

This room was clearly the bedroom of Room 301. Upon entering, he smelled a scent.

This scent was somewhat familiar.

It was… sandalwood.

Many affluent homes would light sandalwood.

It’s calming and soothing, and once lit, the scent is rich and strong.

But for Yang Jian, it also had another use.

That is to mask the odor of a corpse.

Some at the headquarters liked using sandalwood to cover up the stench of corpses to keep the conference room from smelling.

As for who started this habit, that remains unknown.

There was no lit sandalwood in the bedroom; the scent was likely from a previous burning, which after a long time of infusion, left a lingering fragrance in the room, but this scent was no longer strong enough to cover another smell.

The smell of a corpse.

Yang Jian’s nose twitched, and his expression immediately grew grim.

This smell wasn’t intense, as if someone had died here a few days prior.

But this didn’t make sense.

Because a few days ago, this place was still covered in thick smoke, and no living person had entered, and Li Leping’s body was found outside the residence, already turned into a dried-up, blackened corpse.

The bedroom light was dim.

Not because there was no light, but the light was being obstructed by some decorative red cloth strips.

Beneath the hanging red cloth strips, there was an old red lacquered wooden bed.

It’s not the modern kind of bed, but rather the sort of canopy bed with enclosures on three sides and a top.

Generally, only museums and some collectors have such beds, though there are also antique enthusiasts who might custom-order one for their homes.

But in any case, such an item is rarely seen in an ordinary household.

Just having this bed situated here, with its somber hue, gives an eerie sensation that is quite oppressive.

Yet upon this old bed lay a person.

Partially obscured by the bed curtains, the details were unclear.

But undoubtedly there was someone lying there; not a person, but a corpse.

Yang Jian could already smell the stench of the corpse wafting from it.