Chapter 22: The Baby Tower
The players had walked a long way, yet they still seemed to hear the mad screams of the First Lady echoing behind them.
Chi Yi thought of the emaciated woman—she looked about the same age as her, yet the deep courtyard and shadowy backyard of the mansion had seemingly drained every ounce of vitality from her. She was no more than a lifeless puppet now.
“She wants us to save her,” Chi Yi said, her heart heavy. She turned to Li Zhi with a question in her eyes: “But how do we even begin to help her?”
Li Zhi didn’t answer right away. Instead, she examined the talisman pouch gifted by Master Jin for protection. Bringing it close to her nose, she caught only a faint scent—something like sandalwood.
The other players watching her grew uneasy.
“Is something wrong with the talisman?” one asked.
Li Zhi remained thoughtful. “I wonder what’s inside that would keep even a vengeful ghost at bay.”
If even a vengeful spirit feared this, then whatever was in the pouch must be even more terrifying. The players shivered at the thought.
Tian Mingjie forced a nervous laugh. “Who cares what’s in it, as long as it keeps us alive. At least now we only have to deal with the water ghost.”
“What if last night’s water ghost was those three drowned maids? The master said they were the former mistress’s personal attendants. Maybe after death, they still serve her, working together as four ghosts in perfect coordination.”
The group fell silent, helpless. “Even if we know who they are, we don’t know the death conditions. We can’t even guess how to avoid them. Feng Zhenghao died so quietly—it gives us nothing to go on.”
Li Zhi tucked the talisman into her pocket. “Let’s go into town.”
No one objected, and they all set out together. Rain had fallen last night, leaving Qingyu Town damp and slick. Though the rain had stopped, the sky remained overcast. Since their arrival, the town had been perpetually gloomy, living up to its name with an eerie, cold humidity.
There were few people in the streets. Those who passed moved quickly, avoiding eye contact. When the players tried to speak, the townsfolk recoiled, clearly distrustful. As Chen the管家 had warned yesterday, outsiders weren’t welcome here.
Chi Yi muttered, “It’s not like this is some international metropolis—they’re even xenophobic!”
Tian Mingjie gave her a look of admiration: “You’ve got that post-replica ‘I-don’t-care-about-my-image’ vibe going strong.”
Chi Yi shrugged: “Come on, we’re being haunted by ghosts already! Who cares about PR? If someone wants me to quit showbiz, I’ll just let them win. No need to be a celebrity stuck in replicas anymore.”
Her words lightened the mood, and the group laughed. In a place like this, you needed someone to keep spirits high or else the tension would crack you open.
As they chatted and walked past a narrow alley, the gate of a nearby courtyard suddenly burst open. An old woman wielding a broom charged out, swinging wildly at them without warning.
The attack came too fast—the broom struck two players across the face before they could dodge, pain flaring instantly.
“What the hell?! Is this NPC insane?!”
“You think just because you're old I won’t hit back?!”
Trapped in the tight alley, the players scrambled left and right. The old woman glared at them with pure hatred, chasing them with the broom while chanting angrily: “Flies from outside! Get out! Out of the town!”
Tian Mingjie took a couple hits and finally snapped. He wrestled the broom from her hands and pointed it back at her: “You want me to punch you?!”
She spat at them, furious: “It’s your kind that made my daughter-in-law unable to bear sons! I’ll drive you all out of Qingyu Town!”
Tian shouted back: “Are you serious?! What does that have to do with us?! We don’t even know who your daughter-in-law is! And seriously, in this day and age, blaming everything on gender is just ignorant! Check your son first, lady! This isn’t the Qing Dynasty anymore!”
The old woman cursed furiously, now throwing rocks instead. Without the broom, she hurled stones with surprising agility—not at all like an elderly woman.
Two young men rushed out of the open gate, pulling the screaming woman back inside. As the door slammed shut, her wails echoed through the street:
“They mustn’t destroy the Baby Tower! If it opens, we’re all doomed!”
Silence returned to the street.
They exchanged stunned looks.
Tian whispered: “Wait… What’s the Baby Tower? Does it relate to our mission? Why did she think we’d destroy it?”
No one expected such an encounter during a simple outing. But the scene was disjointed and unrelated to their main task of protecting the First Lady until she gave birth.
“It’s not us,” Li Zhi said, glancing at the tightly shut windows around them. Behind each, unseen eyes watched. “It’s people like us—disciples of spiritual masters. There must have been real cultivators before us who tried to destroy the Baby Tower but failed.”
She resumed walking, and the others followed.
Chi Yi shivered. “That name alone sounds ominous. And she kept ranting about needing a son.” She smacked her palm. “Could the Baby Tower be where they bury baby girls?”
Li Zhi spoke calmly, though her tone carried something unusual beneath the surface: “Originally, the Baby Tower was where stillborn or deformed infants were disposed of—burnt in the tower. Later, it became a place for female infants. Any girl born was either killed and thrown in, or tossed in alive. That’s why it’s also called the Bone Pile Tower. Countless infant bones lie within.”
A heavy silence settled over the group.
Just thinking about the existence of such a tower in this town chilled them to the bone.
The Baby Tower. Three consecutive stillbirths of the elder daughter-in-law. The First Lady nearing labor. All these clues pointed to children—and perhaps to their true mission.
Li Zhi said, “Let’s find the Baby Tower.”
Such a structure wouldn’t be built in the town itself. It was more likely located in the outskirts. They headed toward the edge of town, walking nearly an hour before reaching a bamboo forest. From the other side emerged Zhao Luan’s group, looking dejected.
Seeing Li Zhi’s team, Zhao Luan’s expression remained flat. “Don’t bother going further. There are guards blocking the way.”
Li Zhi asked, “Was there a tower?”
Zhao shook his head. “We never saw it. They blocked the road as soon as we arrived. Some locals even had hunting rifles—we didn’t dare push forward.”
Considering the old woman’s behavior earlier, Li Zhi understood.
Not just her—probably the whole town feared that spiritual practitioners like them might destroy the Baby Tower. So when the players arrived, the townspeople immediately stationed guards to prevent access.
What had previous masters done to inspire such fear?
And why was the town so terrified of the Baby Tower being destroyed? Was it the resentment of the buried female infants—or something far worse?
Returning together, Li Zhi shared their findings with Zhao Luan’s group. He looked surprised at first by her openness, but later his expression darkened, as if imagining something sinister.
Chi Yi, seasoned in the entertainment world, whispered to Li Zhi: “He thinks you’re sharing this to steal the spotlight. Such a petty person—he sees selfishness in everyone.”
Back at the Jin estate, they found Old Chen directing servants to carry firewood onto the porch. Seeing the players, he no longer showed the respect or patience he had yesterday, merely giving them a cold glance before turning away.
But Li Zhi, unfazed, cheerfully approached: “Master Chen, have you found the black dog blood and century-old agarwood we requested?”
Chen replied frostily: “Tomorrow.”
Li Zhi nodded: “Thank you, Master Chen.” Then, casually, like asking about dinner: “By the way, were the two stillborn babies of the former mistress boys or girls?”
“Tha—” Chen almost answered automatically before catching himself. His expression hardened. “This has nothing to do with your assigned task. Please stick to your duties and refrain from prying further.”
Li Zhi watched him disappear inside, then softly told her companions: “So it was two girls.”
Chi Yi’s voice trembled slightly: “Then was she really having stillbirths… or were they girls who were…?”
The implication sent chills down their spines.
Zhao Luan frowned: “Poor families may kill daughters they can’t afford—but the Jins are wealthy beyond measure. There’s no reason to kill newborn girls. Just raise them. If they wanted a son, they could keep trying. Why create more sin? Why force the eldest daughter-in-law to death? It doesn’t make sense.”
The players relaxed slightly. “Makes sense.”
Their key items would arrive tomorrow. With two days left until the due date, they felt hopeful. If they could survive until the First Lady gave birth, the talismans and the ritual from the journal would greatly increase their chances.
Yet as the sky darkened again, a lingering unease returned.
Feng Zhenghao’s death remained a mystery. They didn’t know what triggered it, nor who might be next.
Would they survive tonight?