We needed to finish the search before the ten o'clock chime.
"Gu Wenqiang, head to the west wing archive room. That's where you worked this morning, right?" I said quietly.
"Yeah, I know the way." He nodded, offering no further comment.
We didn't waste another second. Splitting into two groups, I went with Qin Yan and Gu Wenqiang toward the west wing, while the others went to search for a possible exit.
Time ticked by steadily, and a heavy sense of urgency hung in the air.
We hurried down the long corridors. The flickering candlelight along the stone walls danced eerily, casting long, twitching shadows that seemed to follow our every move.
We reached the archive room. The door was slightly ajar. Gu Wenqiang pushed it open cautiously and stepped inside.
The air was stale, thick with the scent of moldy paper and rusting metal. Cabinets lined the walls, many stacked with dusty files and old boxes.
Then, out of nowhere, a figure lunged at us!
"Watch out!" I yelled, barely managing to step back.
With a thud, Qin Yan kicked the attacker backward. The man hit the ground hard.
It was one of the male course mates in the archive room. But now, his eyes were bloodshot, and he snarled like a beast, all reason lost.
Qin Yan didn't hesitate. He took a knife from his pocket, which was a fruit knife and plunged it cleanly into the man's chest.
The body convulsed, then lay still.
I froze, staring at the corpse.
"Why do you have a knife?" I asked.
"Picked it up from the kitchen earlier," he said calmly, as if it was a minor detail.
We didn't speak more. The tension thickened, but we forced ourselves to keep searching.
Files were everywhere, their paper yellowed with age. We spread out, rifling through drawers and cabinets.
"Five minutes left," Qin Yan warned to us.
Dong. Dong. Dong.
The clock began to strike. We froze. Nothing happened.
"That's strange..." I frowned.
System Notification:
Congratulations. Rule 9 is false. You have earned 2 Weird Coins.
We looked at each other, unease rising.
So even the rules could be lies.
Rule 9 wasn't to restrict us. It was to hide something about ten o'clock. But what?
A scream rang out from outside.
"HELP! FIRE! SOMEBODY HELP!"
We rushed to the window. In the darkness, flames were rising from one of the upper levels.
"Look! His body… the burns!" Gu Wenqiang pointed at the body.
The skin was blackened, cracked and injuries that hadn't been there before.
Had this castle seen a fire before? Was this man... a victim of that fire? Was the fire an accident or was it cause by someone?
We didn't dare open the door. Instead, we locked it tight and dragged furniture against it.
"Keep looking," I said under my breath. "There has to be a truth hidden here."
Then—
"I found something!" Gu Wenqiang whispered sharply.
A small hidden cabinet. Rusted padlock. He pried it open.
Inside was a heavy file box.
The first page was a photo of a young woman.
The image had yellowed with age, its corners curled and worn, but the woman's face remained hauntingly clear—soft, mournful, almost alive.
She wore a pale dress, hair draped gently over her shoulders, her expression calm.
"This photo... it's almost identical to the one we saw in the basement," I murmured.
Below the image, in dark ink:
Traitor: Vivienne Blanc
"She was the owner's sister," Qin Yan said, flipping through a family record.
Next page— a man was handsome and dressed in a dark suit. His gaze was distant, almost hostile.
"Laine Whitmore," I murmured.
Another label: Traitor.
"They ran away together... didn't they?" I muttered.
The next page held a portrait of the lady herself.
She stood in a garden, wearing a pale blue gown. Her gaze was clear and calm—almost regal, like a noblewoman cut off from the world.
The edges of the photo were slightly damaged, but a name could still be faintly read beneath it:
Evelyn Blanc
I read the name aloud, and my heartbeat quickened for no reason.
It was the first time I'd seen her name appear in any of the records.
I flipped through the entire file.
Nothing about me.
No name. No record. No photo.
"Look," Gu Wenqiang whispered, holding up one last document.
A property transfer form.
"This place used to belong to Evelyn," he said.
"Laine… married in."
She was the true mistress of the estate.
We fell silent.
Outside, the firelight flickered. Inside, the truth burned hotter.
Laine was never the master.
Laine and Vivienne were branded as a traitor.