Chapter Two: The Invigilator

“You don’t… happen to know him, do you?”
“Forgot.”

You Huo kicked an aluminum basin of charcoal from the corner over to the stove. Old Yu carefully lit a fire, and soon the furnace glowed orange.

Yu Wen squatted beside it, gloomily tossing in sticks of wood.

The firelight flickered. He stared at it for a while, thinking that before dying, he ought to talk to someone about his feelings. But when he looked up, he saw his cousin standing nearby warming his hands, looking utterly indifferent and bored.

Yu Wen thought for two seconds and decided he would rather die quietly.

…

“Hey, um…” Old Yu suddenly spoke up.

You Huo glanced over.

“Not sure what to call you,” Old Yu said, patting the pregnant woman’s shoulder. “You’re in your condition—why sit there freezing? That’s not good. Come over and warm yourself. Don’t catch a chill and end up hurting both yourself and the baby.”

The woman froze for a moment, then burst into tears.

Old Yu jumped. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She cried softly, “We don’t even know if we’ll survive…”

Despite her words, she moved her chair closer to the stove.

After crying for a while, she finally stopped and said hoarsely, “By the way… you can call me Yu Yao.”

Old Yu forced a laugh. “Didn’t expect we share the same surname. You look about the same age as my—”

He caught You Huo looking at him and quickly corrected himself, “…my son. Must be fate. Once we get out of this place, we’ll give you a big red envelope to ward off bad luck. You and your child will be safe.”

The tattooed man muttered darkly, “Still chatting at a time like this… damn it.”

Everyone stiffened and scattered, searching around the room.

Most were looking for clues. The tattooed man, however, was searching for weapons.

You Huo didn’t leave. After warming his hands, he brushed lightly over the wall with the question written on it, then lowered his head and rummaged through the clutter on the stove.

There were bottles and jars, a pile of blackened coins, oddly shaped stones, scattered feathers—even a moldy pacifier from who knew when.

Yu Wen didn’t dare move.

He remembered what his teacher had said before the college entrance exam—when you don’t understand something, read the question repeatedly. So he stood in front of the wall, muttering to himself.

“A group of travelers arrives at a snowy mountain…”

“Travelers…”

“Snowy mountain…”

“Hiss…”

When he finished and came back to himself, he realized the room had gone completely silent. Everyone was staring at him.

“…I was just reading it,” Yu Wen said awkwardly.

Old Yu, like many parents, loved to show off his kid in front of others. “Thought of anything? Tell us.”

Yu Wen rolled his eyes. “No.”

Everyone looked disappointed and went back to searching.

Only the tattooed man kept pressing. He eyed Yu Wen suspiciously. “Nothing? You’re not hiding something, are you?”

“Why would I hide anything?”

The man stared at him for a while, making him uncomfortable.

“Fine. Better not be.”

Clearly used to threatening people, he turned away again.

Yu Wen silently raised a middle finger behind his back. Idiot.

At eighteen, he was at the peak of teenage arrogance—everyone in the world seemed like an idiot, even his father. The only exception was You Huo.

Though they had only gotten familiar in the past two years, Yu Wen had managed to learn a few things.

For example, You Huo had memory issues. He couldn’t remember certain years or people.

Also, several elders in the family were afraid of him.

Yu Wen couldn’t understand why—but even the tattooed thug seemed slightly wary of You Huo.

Encouraged by his cousin’s presence, Yu Wen had planned to argue back at the thug—but when he turned around, You Huo was gone.

“…Where’d he go?”

“Who?” Yu Yao asked.

“My cousin.”

“He went that way,” she said, gesturing.

…

The house wasn’t small—three rooms on the ground floor, plus a wooden ladder leading to a loft.

But it was packed with junk and people, making it feel cramped and dim.

The bedroom doors were all locked, with strange, rusted locks.

Even stranger—one door had a rooster hanging on it, another a hen.

Both had been drained of blood, feathers neatly arranged, heads twisted to face the same direction. It was unsettling.

When Yu Wen approached, You Huo was standing in the shadows beside the door.

More frightening than the chickens.

“Bro… what are you holding?” Yu Wen asked, goosebumps rising.

“Never seen an axe?” You Huo said lazily.

“I have…”

Which was exactly why it was terrifying.

You Huo loosely held a small hand axe, casually running his thumb along the blade.

“Did you find any clues?” he asked.

“…What clues?”

You Huo looked at him.

His pale brown eyes were clear but cold, giving him a distant, almost emotionless air.

Yu Wen shrank. “Give me an example.”

“What kind of questions relate to snowy mountains?”

“…No idea.”

“You didn’t go to school?”

“I did…”

“For nothing?”

“I learned test-taking techniques…” Yu Wen said defensively. “If there’s three long answers and one short, pick the short. Three short, one long—pick the long. Two long, two short—pick B. Mixed—pick C. That’s how I passed physics.”

You Huo: “…”

“And most importantly—know when to give up.”

“Get lost.”

Yu Wen shut up immediately.

After a moment, he asked, “Why are you holding that?”

“To find a pen.”

“…What???”

You Huo tossed the axe into a bin. “A pen.”

Yu Wen decided one of them had to be insane.

Without another word, You Huo climbed up to the loft.

…

Time passed quickly.

The red numbers on the wall changed from 6 to 5, then 4.

The first collection time drew near, and everyone grew anxious.

Under pressure, someone made a desperate move.

When You Huo came down, Yu Yao was dipping her finger into a small black bottle, preparing to write on the wall.

A foul, sour smell filled the air.

“Will this really work?” she asked nervously.

“No one knows!” a balding man snapped. “There might not even be a correct answer! If we leave it blank, someone dies anyway!”

He glared at her. “If you don’t dare, I will!”

Yu Yao trembled but wrote anyway.

Nothing appeared.

The marks vanished instantly—as if swallowed.

“I can’t write…”

The bald man rushed forward and tried.

Same result.

He panicked. “It’s not enough… not enough…”

Just as he was about to pour the entire bottle—

A hand grabbed him.

“Stop. The wall isn’t normal,” You Huo said coldly.

“Yu Wen. Rope.”

Yu Wen handed it over.

Within seconds, the man was tied up.

“…Bro, what did you used to do? You’re way too good at this.”

You Huo shot him a look.

Right. He probably didn’t even know himself.

As the bottle was sealed, a faint sigh echoed through the room.

Everyone froze.

New words appeared on the wall:

Violation Warning: Improper writing tools detected. Proctors notified.
Proctors: 001, 154, 922

A rooster crowed suddenly.

The dead rooster twisted its neck and stared at the door.

Then—

Three figures emerged outside in the snow.

The one in front was tall, wearing a fitted coat.

As he reached the door, he lifted his head.

His dark eyes met You Huo’s.

You Huo unconsciously touched his ear stud.

Yu Wen whispered, “You know him?”

You Huo frowned.

“Forgot.”