The View Inside the Frame

As far as that newcomer was concerned, Ruan Nanzhu seemed particularly averse to her since day one.

Lin Qiushi asked him whether he sensed something was off about her from the start, but who would've imagined Ruan Nanzhu would give him a shallow answer in return, "No. I just hate people who start crying the moment they enter these door worlds. People like that usually ask too many questions and are too troublesome to deal with." After stating this, he looked down at Lin Qiushi, his eyes deepening with immense satisfaction, and beamed. "You don't tend to ask that many questions or pry much, and I like that."

Lin Qiushi: "…" He should probably be thankful for his own lack of curiosity.

Yang Meishu was the name of this so-called newcomer. Perhaps the greatest mistake she could've ever made was pretending to be a complete newbie. As soon as she entered the door world, she began to sob persistently, thus provoking Ruan Nanzhu's loathing. Had she changed her approach and acted cute instead, she genuinely might've had a chance to get closer to Ruan Nanzhu—just as Xu Jin had in the previous world.

"Didn't you say there is only one clue for every door?" Tan Zaozao was fairly confused after reading the slip of paper in Lin Qiushi's hand. "What exactly is the deal with this note?"

"Not necessarily. It just that such instances are quite rare," clarified Ruan Nanzhu. "I have encountered this particular situation a few times before. As for the reason two different notes can exist within the same door, I don't have an explanation to offer, since I, myself, do not know. Perhaps this phenomenon is triggered by special conditions?" Ruan Nanzhu pinched the slip of paper between his fingers, and pondered deeply, "Or perhaps…the individuals who've obtained such notes are the special ones." Of course, these were merely conjectures of his, speculations that could not be proven at present time.

"So, how's everything with Yang Meishu right now?" Lin Qiushi wondered. "Does she know you've already figured out her true identity?"

Ruan Nanzhu smiled merrily, "Who knows for the time being, but we will find out, very soon." His tone was light and relaxed, "I truly hope she'll still be alive by the time she figures it out."

Lin Qiushi: "…" A devilish malice surged within the depths of Ruan Nanzhu's eyes, glaringly obvious and frighteningly chilling.

*******

Deeply embosomed in the quietude of the serene night, Yang Meishu lay in bed.

That beautiful man did not show up at the dining hall to eat with the others during the day. It seemed that her plan worked out without any hitches. He had brought this upon himself. Who told him to refuse her sincere advances? Yang Meishu felt a twinge of regret as she reminisced about that fine man. She was honestly quite fond of him, and he could have also lived until the end; it was such a pity that wasn't possible any more.

As of right now, two people's deaths had been confirmed. Of course, Yang Meishu's ultimate goal was still far from her reach, but she wasn't in a hurry; after all, the whole situation was entirely under her control, playing out exactly as she desired in the palms of her hands. As long as the humans within this door world were slowly killed off, according to the laws of these door worlds, she, the remaining survivor, would be invincible. And when that time came, the matter concerning the key or the door to escape this hell could easily be resolved.

As for that particular rule where one shouldn't kill another in the door worlds—the dead who sought vengeance usually knew who their enemies were. But those pitiful humans who had died unjustly and had unknowingly become a wandering ghost, could barely fathom their own deaths, let alone figure out who they should get take revenge on; needless to say, how could they possibly exact a meaningless revenge if they never realized who or what led to their doom in the first place?

Thinking of this, Yang Meishu tittered with sheer delight. She gleefully hummed a tune as she gazed up at the ceiling. It wasn't long before she sank into a deep slumber.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Freezing droplets of water tapped Yang Meishu's face, delicately clinging to her fragile skin. She groggily opened her eyes, and through her bleary vision, she spotted a dark, damp stain splotching the walls overhead. The foul, moist patches tarnished the pure, snow-white ceiling, and translucent beads of water steadily fell upon her cheeks.

Yang Meishu instantly became aware of her surroundings, the haziness in her mind clearing up. She swiftly climbed out of her bed, and looked around. Without her knowing, the originally-closed window had been pried wide open. Wintry gales tore through her window, inviting the biting iciness from the pitiless rain.

Assailed by the bitter winds, Yang Meishu shivered uncontrollably. Wanting to shut the window, she went over to the bedside, when she unexpectedly caught sight of a hooded figure standing outside of her room.

It was a woman. A gangling woman dressed in a flowing black gown and a classic black hat. Her head was tipped back at a slight angle, and her soulless, inky eyes peered at Yang Meishu, an unsettling mania emanating from her eerie gaze. The darkness of her black attire accentuated the ghastliness of her pale countenance. She was like a sodden, decaying corpse, silently welcoming the cascading rain upon her figure.

"Ah!!!" Yang Meishu staggered backwards in fright. Waves of cold sweat washed over her quivering body. Drip. Drip. Drip. The water stains on the ceiling expanded, becoming ever more prominent. Yang Meishu's hair grew damper, as well, gradually soaking in the moisture.

All of a sudden, Yang Meishu was struck with a burst of recollection. She rushed towards her nightstand and grabbed her knapsack, urgently turning it inside out, in search of something.

It's not here! It's not here—there was no trace of the item she was looking for! Bone-chilling droplets of sweat trickled down her spine, drenching her clothes and announcing her distress. Before long, Yang Meishu's knees crumpled beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground with a defeated cry, "Where is the note?! Where is my note—"

The note was gone; there was nothing. The vital key to her survival was nowhere to be found. Yang Meishu trembled in fear, like a newborn fawn. She stiffly lifted her head and faced the ceiling above, fearfully looking on as the growing water stains gradually distorted into the shape of a human being.

Aghast at the sight, Yang Meishu frantically scrambled to her feet, desperately wishing to flee from this room as quickly as possible. However, when she approached the door and twisted the knob to open it, she dreadfully discovered that her only means of escape was locked.

"Help me! Is anyone out there! Help—" Plaintive screams ripped through Yang Meishu's hoarse throat. She hopelessly watched on as the water stains warped on the ceiling, writhing agitatedly as though desiring to break free from the walls that restrained them. She furiously pounded on the door, anxious to leave this godawful chamber.

"Help me! Save me, anyone—" The thick, stagnant stench of water filled her lungs, suffocating her. Yang Meishu howled in anguish; for the first time in her life, she realized just how bitter the taste of despair was.

Her eyes darted around in a panic, until they stopped on a certain object. At some point in time, the ordinary landscape illustrated on the painting in her room had transformed into a mocking portrait of a familiar individual. The appearance of the woman captured on the canvas practically mirrored that of the mistress of the castle; in fact, the resemblance was so uncanny, it might as well have been the mistress in the flesh.

"Ahhhhh…" Yang Meishu's reason finally succumbed to the unbearable fear, and she recklessly charged at the painting. She snatched up the fruit knife and began hacking at the haunted portrait before her eyes, slashing at it mercilessly. She ruthlessly brought the blade down again, and again, and again…

Before long, The Woman of the Rain was shredded to pieces; torn fragments of the lady's expressionless face fell and scattered the floors. Yang Meishu finally released her grip on the sharp blade. With disheveled hair and crazed eyes, she raggedly panted, her chest rising and falling heavily.

"I'm not afraid of you." Yang Meishu deliriously chanted. "I'm not afraid of you…"

However, when she glanced back at the window, her heart stopped.

The woman who was supposed to be standing outside of her window, was now inside of her room. Her looming figure cast a cold, dark shadow upon Yang Meishu's body, shrouding the quivering young lady in caliginous desolation. In the woman's hands was a black frame, one Yang Meishu knew all too well—it was the picture frame she used to kill the others.

"No, no, no, no!" It was at this very moment that Yang Meishu understood the gravity of her situation. She looked around in horror, trying to find the true frame encasing her; alas, it was far too late.

The woman coolly stepped towards Yang Meishu, eventually coming to a full stop right before her. She looked down at the other with a hollow gaze, then raised the menacing black frame in her hands and mightily smashed it against the girl.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!" Unlike Xiao Su, who immediately lost consciousness upon having been struck by the frame and set into a portrait, Yang Meishu wasn't directly embedded into a painting. Rather, the frame transformed into a serrated weapon and mutilated her flesh with severe lacerations, from which thick dribbles of warm, crimson blood disgorged.

Yang Meishu struggled to turn around and escape, but all that escaped was her strength, slowly abandoning her to weakness. Her strength having failed her, she crashed to the ground, hard. As she lay on the floor, her clouded eyes wandered around the room, soon resting upon the ruins of the portrait she had ripped to shreds.

At long last, the lifeless darkness blurred her vision, and Yang Meishu's heavy eyelids fluttered shut.

Up until her very last breath, she never realized what had led to her tragic doom.

*******

Lin Qiushi slept very well that night. The following morning, Ruan Nanzhu woke up unusually early and in a rather pleasant mood. He greeted Lin Qiushi with a bright smile.

"Good morning." Lin Qiushi smoothed down his lazily tousled hair. "You seem to be in a good mood?"

"Of course." Ruan Nanzhu glanced at the time, "I can't wait to eat breakfast."

Lin Qiushi didn't think anything more of Ruan Nanzhu's words; he simply thought the man was eager to fill his starving belly. On the other hand, Tan Zaozao regarded the other's statement with a thoughtful expression.

Thereafter, the group of three made their way to the dining hall. Ruan Nanzhu found spot to seat himself down at and began scanning the room, seemingly searching for something.

"What are you looking for?" Lin Qiushi asked him, while munching on his fresh bread.

"I'm looking for someone." Ruan Nanzhu replied. "It seems that another one of us is missing."

Indeed, there was one less amongst them. The newcomer Ruan Nanzhu spoke of yesterday was nowhere to be seen. And they weren't the only ones who noticed this odd situation, it seemed. In the end, someone approached Yang Meishu's partner and inquired about her.

"I don't know. I knocked on her door, but she never opened it." The male teammate replied. "She might still be sleeping."

All of them had arbitrarily formed temporary teams in this door world, so it was only natural that they weren't close to each other, much less loyal; it was pointless to hope for involved parties to conscientiously uphold their duties as reliable teammates. However, the other's response was far too dismissive and inconsiderate, causing everyone to frown.

Zhang Tao, who had previously found the frame, said, "How could she still be sleeping under these circumstances? Something must've happened. Let's check on her." When he finished saying this, he glanced at Ruan Nanzhu, seemingly awaiting his approval.

"Alright." Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

Although Ruan Nanzhu seldom spoke up and rarely offered his own input, he somehow still undertook the role of the team leader, simply because of his distinct character and imposing disposition. Everyone would always stop to hear his opinion first, before making any decisions. Perhaps this was what the charisma myth was referring to, Lin Qiushi thought to himself.

They soon arrived at Yang Meishu's room. Even before entering, Lin Qiushi could smell the pungent stench of foul water in the air. Lin Qiushi instantly recognized the situation inside was far from good as soon as he caught whiff of that vile odour; after they forcibly broke into her room, his suspicions were confirmed.

There was no sign of Yang Meishu.

But the entire room was in shambles, shedding some light on the terrible disaster that took place last night.

The windows were thrown wide open, allowing the torrential rain to pour into the room and messily drench the carpets. The landscape painting that was suspended on the wall was in chaotic tatters, deliberately slashed to pieces by someone. And shards of broken glasses haphazardly bestrew the floor.

"Where is she?" Zhang Tao wondered aloud.

No one could answer him. In fact, all eyes couldn't help but stray towards the scrolled painting hanging outside of the doorway. No questions asked, everyone was convinced that Yang Maishu was a lost cause and had already become a painting.

"Let's look for her." Ruan Nanzhu said, before turning on his heels and walking out of the room.

Immediately after, the others followed him out and began searching all over for Yang Meishu's painting.

It was an indisputable fact that Ruan Nanzhu had something to do with this matter, but Lin Qiushi didn't dare ask him on the spot. He waited until everyone else left, before whispering, "What'd you do?"

"I only returned what was rightfully hers to her, nothing more." Ruan Nanzhu shrugged indifferently. "Who knew she'd be so stupid."

"Where'd you put the frame?" asked Tan Zaozao, who had long figured out what was going on.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't reply and instead waved them over.

Minutes later, they returned to Yang Meishu's room.

Ruan Nanzhu quietly closed the door behind them, then strode over to the bed and bent down, kneeling on the carpet.

Upon seeing his actions, Lin Qiushi guessed where the other hid the picture frame—to think he actually buried the frame under Yang Meishu's bed.

"This actually worked?" Tan Zaozao widened her eyes in incredulity.

"I also wanted to find out whether it would work. Turns out, the results definitely exceeded my expectation." What Ruan Nanzhu placed underneath the bed was an empty frame that turned into a painting.

If there was one issue, it was that they couldn't make out the image on the painting before their eyes, for its contents were hideously convoluted beyond the point of grotesque; not a single person who laid eyes on this mad piece could possibly recognize what was drawn. However, judging from the warm red pigments used, it was quite apparent that what they were looking at was blood.

"We can't even see Yang Meishu." With a lowered head, Tan Zaozao studied the painting. "If you're going to faithfully capture someone in a painting, as least show some of their appearance, ah…" God knew what Yang Meishu did to have her painting come out looking like this.

"Her painting remained in the same place, indicating she never left this room." Ruan Nanzhu analyzed. "Since she never left the room, that means she died from other conditions." His gaze drifted to the torn landscape painting on the wall. "She must've raised her hand against The Woman of the Rain."

"Mhm." Lin Qiushi agreed with Ruan Nanzuh's reasoning. "When you're trapped within the frame, the original paintings in the room change into other images."

Ruan Nanzhu concluded the tragedy of Yang Meishu with one last sentence, "Truly, nothing is more fun than a catfight."

Tan Zaozao and Lin Qiushi both smiled wryly at this. They simply didn't have the same mindset as Ruan Nanzhu. Along with those hellish creatures, they had to beware of teammates who could betray them at any time. Moments like these were honestly unpleasant, if not downright awful; in fact, most people wouldn't even be able to find joy in this situation, much less laugh at what they'd just suffered through.

Yang Meishu's painting had been found, but no one would've guessed this distorted painting was the pretty young lady from before.

Three deaths had been confirmed as of this moment: Xiao Su, Yang Jie, and Yang Meishu. No one knew just how many more would die, before they found the key.

The mistress was still painting, but now, she had two new faces to add to her own unfinished rendition of The Last Supper.

"You stand on a bridge admiring the sight; you're beheld by a viewer from a height. The bright moon bedecks your window agleam, as you adorn someone else's dream." Ruan Nanzhu held onto the note originally belonging to Yang Meishu. "We have become a part of the scenery we were admiring, and the sightseer watching us from above is the mistress. What I don't understand is why Yang Meishu's hint is more detailed than ours…" Ruan Nanzhu furrowed his brows, seeming to have some misgivings about this matter.

"Who knows." Tan Zaozao replied. "Could it be that the nature of the doors she's entered are relatively higher in level?"

No one knew what Tan Zaozao's statement reminded Ruan Nanzhu of, but he remained silent for a good while, before finally uttering, "It could be that the way she left these door worlds was rather…unique."

"What do you mean?" Tan Zaozao was baffled. "There are other methods to leave these door worlds?"

"Who knows," responded Ruan Nanzhu.

It was reasonable to say that once they identified the conditions for death, they would, naturally, steer clear of any risks until they found the key. Unfortunately, things weren't as simple as that. On the third day after Yang Meishu's death, Lin Qiushi was met with misfortune, once again.

He had just finished eating dinner, and left the area to use the washroom at the end of the corridor. But upon exiting the bathroom, he sensed that something was awry.

There was something inexplicably off about the familiar corridor before his eyes.

He couldn't exactly explain it in words, nor could he pinpoint this strange source of incongruity. There was nothing particularly abnormal about the view in front of Lin Qiushi, but a haunting suspicion kept nagging the back of his mind, warning him that something was wrong with the corridor.

His hesitant footsteps revealed his conflicting thoughts about to whether to proceed onwards.

The corridor was as long as ever. The dim glow of the oil lamps flickered in the darkness. Hundreds of framed paintings hung on both walls of this boundless corridor, but he couldn't make out their images.

Lin Qiushi heard the soft patters of showering rain echoing from the lavatory behind him, the steady rhythm of its drips giving rise to a feeling of unease and distress.

Lin Qiushi took a few tentative steps forward, and came to a full stop in the middle of the corridor.

The carpet beneath him was soft. The walls around him were smooth. The picture frames were wet…

Wait a second, the frames were wet? Lin Qiushi froze for a split-second, before abruptly swiveling around to take another look at the walls. Beads of water had begun to seep from paintings hanging on the walls; the heavy droplets flowed down like shallow streams, trickling down the walls and gradually soaking the soft carpet.

Before he knew it, a dark figure emerged from the depths of the shadowed corridor. The shape of the figure was all too familiar. Even though he only had a view of the other's back, Lin Qiushi clearly recognized that it was the mistress of this castle—The Woman of the Rain.

"Lin Qiushi." Ruan Nanzhu's gentle voice called out him, like the soft susurration of the breeze.

Lin Qiushi whipped his head around, trying to follow that faint whisper, only to see the painting on the wall to his right warp into a portrait of Xiao Su; even as a painting, the girl was as lovely as ever. She beckoned Lin Quishi over to the her with a bright smile, "Yu Linlin."

Penetrating chills ran up Lin Qiushi's spine.

"Yu Linlin. Come join me." The portrait of Xiao Su crooned. "I'm lonely. It's so boring staying here by myself."

As she said this, her arms extended from inside the painting in an attempt to capture Lin Qiushi.

Startled at the sight, Lin Qiushi reflexively drew back a few steps.

However, Xiao Su's arms were like twisted snakes, growing longer and longer, and crookedly slithering towards Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi turned to run back into the lavatory, but countless writhing arms soon extended from the surrounding portraits, winding around his body and coiling around his feet, slowly binding him.

"Ruan Nanzhu—" Lin Qiushi desperately wished to break free from their tenacious clutches, but the corridor was too narrow, leaving him with very little room to maneuver. His legs were caught by the things in the paintings, and he was forcibly dragged back out of the bathroom.

At some point in time, the woman in black came to a stand before Lin Qiushi.

She looked down at Lin Qiushi with cold eyes, her towering figure casting an ominous shadow upon Lin Qiushi's fallen body.

Lin Qiushi struggled to lift his head, and met the woman's hollow gaze.

The women didn't speak. She simply loomed over Lin Qiushi, staring unblinking at the other with her sinister black eyes. She then leaned forward, drawing even closer to the other until they were only a thin breath away from each other. Lin Qiushi could smell that acrid reek of paint lingering on her body.

Lin Qiushi was paralyzed to the spot, like a vulnerable frog in the presence of a venomous serpent.

The woman slowly reached out with a skeletal hand and gripped Lin Qiushi's wrist, easily lifting him up in the air. Her strength was outrageous. Someone like Lin Qiushi, who stood at a height of 180 centimeters, merely amounted to a helpless chicken that was ready to be slaughtered. Lin Qiushi utterly powerless against her clutches; it was as if the tight grip around his wrist was draining him of his strength.

Casually picking him up as one would with dropped items, the woman then clomped upstairs to the top of the castle.

Mustering all of his power, Lin Qiushi began to struggle against her, but to no avail. In the face of the woman's monstrous strength, Lin Qiushi was like a weak six-year-old boy, simply unable to resist. He was hauled up the stairs by the woman, and dragged towards the top of the building.

He's going to die! He's going to die! This was the first time in a long while, Lin Qiushi vividly felt the imminence of death. A foreboding premonition overwhelmed him, violently stabbing at his guts and devouring his mind. He just knew he was gradually approaching Death's doorstep. And the moment they reached the top of this castle, it'd be over for him! He would die!

"Fuck it!!!" Spitting out a string of obscene vulgarities, Lin Qiushi firmly grasped the handrail near the staircase. He couldn't understand how he was suddenly pulled into the world of the painting. According to Ruan Nanzhu's words, as long as his figure wasn't captured in the frame, he should be fine…unless…there were other frames they hadn't found?

The handrail was slick with water, and Lin Qiushi's grip was wavering. The woman didn't even bat an eyelid at his relentlessly struggle for survival. Wearing the same expressionless look on her face, she pulled on him harder, exerting greater force against his futile resistance.

No longer able to hold out against her, Lin Qiushi's grip slipped, and the woman continued dragging him up the stairs, as if nothing had happened.

Looks like it's all over. Lin Qiushi smiled bitterly in his heart.

However, just when he had resigned himself to his wretched fate, Lin Qiushi registered the sharp noise of breaking glass. No sooner, the view before him began falling apart and fragmenting to little pieces, the air distorting and the image of the woman also blurring.

"Lin Qiushi—" Tan Zaozao's voice desperately cried out for him. "Come back to us—"

"Lin Qiushi!" Ruan Nanzhu was also shouting his name.

Lin Qiushi's struggled to open his eyes, but it was as if his eyes were glued shut; he just couldn't.

At long last, the crisp sound of shattering glass grew clearer, ever more distinct. Bright light spilled through the thin skin of his eyelids, piercing his retinae. With great difficulty, Lin Qiushi managed to open his eyes, only to be met with the sight of a frightened Tan Zaozao and a frowning Ruan Nanzhu.

"What happened to me?" Lin Qiushi hoarsely groaned.

"You almost died—" Tan Zaozao's voice trembled with fear. "If Ruan Nanzhu hadn't realized it in time…"

Lin Qiushi lifted his head slightly, only to find himself lying on the bathroom floor, shards from a broken mirror scattered beside him.

"She seemed to have captured me inside the world of the painting." Dazed, Lin Qiushi still couldn't fathom the situation. "But I thought there weren't any more frames?" Yang Meishu died, so there shouldn't have been any more frames, and yet this happened to him…

"How can a painter not have any more frames? The frames Yang Meishu used were ultimately provided by her." Ruan Nanzhu replied helplessly. "I thought this was common sense…"

Lin Qiushi: "…" You're right, this is common sense. Sorry about that. It's rather difficult for someone with his IQ to survive in these door worlds.

Tan Zaozao softly wept beside him.

"I don't blame you though." Ruan Nanzhu reassured. "Who would've expected it to be arranged so cleverly." He pointed at the broken mirror in front of him. "Take a look."

When he raised his head, Lin Qiushi saw a black frame meticulously hidden underneath the shattered mirror. The mirror turned out to be double-sided glass, so anyone who looking into the mirror would, inevitably, be framed by the object.

Lin Qiushi face contorted into a grimace, "Is it just this one, or all mirrors…"

Ruan Nanzhu shrugged, "This is her castle. What do you think?"

Lin Qiushi: "So Yang Meishu pretty much wasted her time by unnecessarily doing more—"

Ruan Nanzhu: "It wasn't just Yang Meishu who wasted her time with such superfluous actions; even I did." He then asked, "So, what did you do in there? How did you get inside the painting?"

Lin Qiushi: "I just walked down the hallway for a bit…"

Ruan Nanzhu: "Stand still and don't move from your spot the next time something like this happens."

Lin Qiushi dropped his head into his palms and heaved a deep sigh. He honestly felt that trying to avoid such inevitable dangers was futile. Suddenly, he recalled something, "How did you find out where I was? How was I able to be rescued even after being trapped within the frame?"

Ruan Nanzhu didn't immediately respond to his questions. He simply reached out with his hand and affectionately pinched Lin Qiushi's earlobe, "Fate."

Realization struck Lin Qiushi. Only now did it hit him that the ruby earring Ruan Nanzhu gave him played a huge role in this.

"What should we do now?" Tan Zaozao was at a loss. "Considering there may be frames behind every mirror, wouldn't that mean all of us will be targeted and eventually killed by her?"

Ruan Nanzhu shook his head, "That's improbable. This is not an advanced door, so the conditions for killing humans are rather limited and strict. She cannot round us all up and massacre us as she pleases." He pointed out, "Haven't you noticed that every time she dragged someone into a painting, she waited a certain period of time before dragging another person inside?"

Tan Zaozao: "So…?"

Ruan Nanzhu: "So, we should try to bring the key out in the meantime."

Tan Zaozao suspiciously narrowed her eyes at Ruan Nanzhu: "What do you mean by bring the key out?"

Ruan Nanzhu: "Think about it. What if I took advantage of the time she's incapacitated, completely unable to kill people, and burned down all of her paintings…"

Upon hearing Ruan Nanzhu's so-called plan, Tan Zaozao and Lin Qiushi's faces blackened, their features, twisting into an ugly expression.

Horrified, Tan Zaozao advised, "Ruan Nanzhu, I know you're reckless, but don't just seek death by diving headfirst into danger like this, okay! You're literally playing with fire, you know!"

Ruan Nanzhu: "Oh, I'm only joking."

Utter disbelief and doubt swept across Tan Zaozao and Lin Qiushi's faces at this. Ruan Nanzhu's tone was far from that of someone who was merely kidding around; he definitely wasn't joking.

Author's Comment:

Ruan Nanzhu takes out his lighter: Oh, don't mind me. I'm just joking around…

The Mistress: ?????

Lin Qiushi: Are you having fun?