TEG 1
"This is the Pear Garden opera troupe shrouded in year-round dense mist, and the final destination of the Great Exorcism Ritual."
"It’s said that on nights when pear blossoms fall, strange bronze bells can be heard deep within the compound, and in the red lanterns, shadows in long flowing robes flicker… zzzt..."
"As a troupe apprentice, you are now preparing for the Great Exorcism Ritual… zzzt… The ritual will be held in two days… zzzt… Warning: this guest has died… analysis error…"
"Zzzt… zzzt…"
"Don’t let him find out you’re not dead."
The moment Zhou Xiangyue regained consciousness, this sentence echoed in his mind.
The scent of blood filled his nose.
Cold seeped through his entire body.
A coarse, icy whip handle lifted his chin. A mocking voice asked, “Dead?”
Zhou Xiangyue: ...?
His mind was a mess and his head was spinning, but his body instinctively stayed limp, perfectly pretending to be lifeless.
He let the whip lift his chin, exposing his throat.
He didn’t open his eyes, didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. From his neck to his fingertips, every muscle was relaxed. Even his eyelashes didn’t tremble.
“He’s not that easy to kill. He just looks like a porcelain doll he’s not actually made of porcelain,” another sarcastic voice chimed in, slapping his cheek. “He’s faking it, huh?”
“Porcelain doll.”
Though his eyes were closed, the words drifted into his mind, semi-transparent like ripples in water, as if written there by an invisible pen.
Zhou Xiangyue: ...??
He kept playing dead.
Beneath him were rough bricks and cold dirt walls. Dry leaves crunched nearby. He was probably in a courtyard. The air was wet and cold.
Light filtered faintly through his eyelids. A bright night. Maybe a full moon.
He could hear breathing and shuffling around him. Several people. All seemed hostile, especially the one holding the whip under his chin.
The scent of blood was overwhelming. He must have bled a lot. He was freezing. Understandable this body’s original owner was already dead. If he moved recklessly, he might die again just after coming back.
His thoughts were much clearer now. The cold voice in his head spoke again.
"This place isn’t reality. It’s called the Nightmare Realm. You and the people around you have been swallowed into it. You’re called 'Realm Guests,' which means you’re outsiders to this realm."
"As outsiders, if you can’t escape, you’ll eventually die here."
"Of course, there are other ways to die. Like just now you got killed for stealing by another realm guest."
In his mind, beside the phrase “Porcelain Doll,” another term appeared.
“Corpse.”
The words “Porcelain Doll” faded slightly. and “Corpse” grew brighter.
Zhou Xiangyue remembered.
Yes he had just been beaten to death.
For stealing.
But something felt wrong.
His memories were vivid, almost too vivid, like he had truly lived them yet they felt unfamiliar.
It felt like he had witnessed the memories rather than lived them.
He was sure his name was Zhou Xiangyue. But the memories belonged to someone else: Zhou Qing.
He searched his mind and found that aside from his name, everything else was blank. Zhou Qing’s memories filled all the space.
Had he taken over a dead body and someone else’s memories while losing his own?
Absurd.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to be doing?
That summed up his mood exactly.
With his face half hidden behind his hair, Zhou Xiangyue cracked open an eye and looked at the man holding the whip. A flash of metallic light came from something in the man’s belt.
Looked valuable.
Zhou Xiangyue felt his fingers twitch with temptation.
...
"...Shit, maybe he really is dead."
Diao Xinsha sneered down at the boy under his shadow.
The boy’s pale neck was streaked with blood. His tattered robe had fallen open, revealing sharp collarbones and bruises soaked with slow-drifting blood.
Curled like a wounded beast in the corner of a courtyard wall, he was drenched in moonlight. The pale moon above was ghostly white, painting the world in a sickly bluish-gray.
Overhead, floating white text streaked across the air like glowing bullet comments:
【Is he dead?】
【Dead. His ID tag turned gray.】
【So cruel! How could you do this to a pretty boy?!】
【His clothes are all torn. Why not just rip it all off? Half-covered is worse—oh no, my ghost nose is bleeding!】
【Tortured beauty death scenes will always be classics. Thanks, Mother Nature.】
【Goodbye, my poor sweet boy~】
Diao Xinsha grabbed his neck again, forcing the boy’s face up.
Tears clung to his lashes like he had died crying.
“At least he’s easier on the eyes like this,” Diao Xinsha said, gripping the boy’s neck and forcing his head up.
The boy’s head lolled limply, and the tears on his lashes fell down his cheeks like he’d just cried.
Even though he knew the boy was dead, the sight was so pitiful it stirred something dark in Diao Xinsha.
“Oh, look still crying,” he sneered, lifting the whip and prodding deep into one of the wounds.
Zhou Xiangyue tensed on reflex but realized something he didn’t feel pain.
All these injuries and yet... no pain.
Huh. Painless resurrection? That’s a pretty sweet deal.
Zhou Xiangyue was delighted.
Fresh blood kept flowing with every prod, sliding down his pale neck and dripping to the ground.
The boy’s lashes and cheeks still sparkled with tears, like a dead white egret frozen in its last beautiful moment of despair.
【Okay wait, am I sick? Because I think he looks even prettier now than when he was crying...】
【@NightmareRealmAdmin can we delay ending this stream? I need more of this pretty corpse.】
【+1 signed in blood】
Zhou Xiangyue still played dead.
But his attention drifted. These floating words in his mind, besides “Porcelain Doll” and “Corpse,” were strange.
“Little Beauty.”
“Delicate.”
“Abused.”
“Poor Thing.”
“Porcelain Doll” was almost transparent now, “Corpse” brighter, more solid.
Other words blinked faintly, some fading quickly after appearing.
Below the labels, one line stood out.
“Spectating ghosts: 43”
Zhou Xiangyue: …………
He was starting to get it.
These were impressions maybe from ghosts, maybe from other realm guests.
What these labels meant, he wasn’t sure. More to explore.
【Wait... his ID tag is glowing again? Resurrection??】
【Is this a bug??】
【I think he’s faking death!】
【A beautiful idiot suddenly got clever?】
【No way, he just cried himself unconscious. That’s not acting.】
Diao Xinsha got bored after a few more prods and let go.
The boy’s head hit the wall with a dull thud, and his thin body slumped down.
“F*cking weakling,” Diao Xinsha muttered, whipping his weapon to shake off the blood. “Four-Eyes, your turn to search him.”
A timid young man with glasses flinched, “Me?”
Diao Xinsha sneered, “You got a problem?”
“N-no…” The guy dropped into a crouch beside the corpse.
“Damn blood all over me,” Diao Xinsha growled, whipping the air again. “No way that scrawny brat hid it far.”
The glasses guy trembled as he reached for the corpse, too scared to wipe off the blood on his lenses.
He had just watched this boy get beaten to death in front of him.
“You’re new, I get that you’re nervous,” said a calm, older voice from behind. “Stick with Diao and you’ll survive as long as you behave. Step out of line...”
The man snorted. “You’ll end up like this pretty idiot.”
The boy's hands shook harder.
He lowered his head, more afraid of the living than the dead, and mumbled, “Y-yes...”
He reached toward the bloodstained robes, not noticing the corpse was still subtly breathing.
Zhou Xiangyue was fully awake now. The memories were clearer.
Zhou Qing—the dead idiot—had entered the realm for the second time, tried stealing for the first time.
And he had stupidly stolen from Diao Xinsha—a member of the infamous Wushe Sect, known for cruelty.
Not only did he steal, he got caught.
And not only caught—he was killed almost instantly.
Zhou Xiangyue stared at the labels in his head: “Corpse,” “Useless Beauty,” “Pretty Idiot.”
Zhou Xiangyue: ...Great. Absolutely great.
He might’ve forgotten everything else, but he was sure he wasn’t this idiot.
The searcher’s hand brushed the bloody robes—his fingers freezing cold.
“Warning: Don’t let him know you’re alive.”
Just then, the guy’s trembling hand touched the corpse’s waist and brushed against something cold and metallic.
“I found the Spirit Box!” he shouted.
He handed it carefully to Diao Xinsha.
Diao grinned. “Nice.”
He looked down at the corpse. “Smart choice. Rare item. But worth dying for? What a short-lived idiot.”
At that moment, heavy clouds drifted over the moon.
The temperature dropped. An eerie chill descended.
Black branches of pear trees began frosting over.
Petals bloomed—only to wither seconds later.
Wind swept the courtyard, white petals like snow or funeral paper fluttered through the air.
“What’s happening?” someone gasped.
The clouds passed. The moon emerged again—now blood-red.
An eerie crimson glow bathed everything.
“What’s that smell...” the glasses guy sniffed.
A strange fragrance filled the air.
Diao Xinsha looked up, pupils shrinking. “What the hell…?”
All around, black pear branches bloomed with snow-white flowers—then wilted and faded in seconds.
A gust blew past. Petals flew through the air like funeral paper money.
Gorgeous and horrifying.
\[What’s happening? This realm didn’t have any boss entrances like this.]
\[Spine-chilling… oh wait, I don’t have a spine.]
“Damn it, this place gets weirder every day.”
Then—thump, thump, thump.
Heavy footsteps echoed. The earth trembled.
Someone shouted, “The troupe master is here!”
The courtyard fell silent.
A large man entered scarred face, dragging a corpse behind him by the leg.
The corpse’s face was flayed open unrecognizable.
The Troupe Leader’s voice was grating:
“I told you: steal from my courtyard, and you die.”
The glasses guy clamped a hand over his mouth.
They’d all heard about the troupe master—powerful, cruel, and not to be crossed.
He looked over the group, sneered, and approached the boy’s corpse.
He lifted the silver tag on his waist.
“Zhou Qing,” he muttered, flipping through a ledger, then stamped the boy’s blood-covered finger onto the page.
“All done.”
【Ow, even my ghost limbs hurt. He’s really dead now, right?】
【No way he’s alive. The system confirmed it!】
【But his ID tag lit up earlier...】
【Bugged system, must’ve been misread.】
【Ah, ID confirmed. Dead.】
【See? Told you!】
【Stream's closing in 10 seconds.】
In Zhou Xiangyue’s mind, “Corpse” finally turned solid and silver.
Then a crisp voice rang out.
“Ding! Temporary Identity Acquired: Corpse!”
“Valid for: 20 minutes.”
“Reminder: Stay dead. No funny business. Avoid breaking character.”
A new notification followed.
“Item acquired: Troupe Master’s Coin Pouch.”
A screen appeared in his mind.
【Inventory (Beginner) 2/5】
Spirit Box ×1
Troupe Master’s Coin Pouch ×1
No one noticed the “corpse” curled in the shadows had the faintest, invisible smile at the corner of his lips.
“Corpse.” “Useless Beauty.” “Pretty Idiot.”
Honestly, he kind of liked these labels.
After all, who would suspect a delicate, pathetic-looking corpse of stealing?
