​​Chapter 134: The Haunted Amusement Park

​Chi Yi: "…………"

She gave Li Zhi a complicated look. Tang Nanshan, intrigued by the "nation's first love," asked curiously, "What's wrong?"

Chi Yi: "Nothing." She paused. "Just thinking that if I were a ghost, I’d be pretty scared right now. Zhi-Zhi’s acting like a villain."

Tang Nanshan burst out laughing.

The tense ghost-hunting atmosphere lightened considerably after that.

Han Wenlin spoke up, "Since we’re all players, we should be familiar with major historical events in our country, right?" He looked at Li Zhi and Pei Hongyu. "You can quiz us randomly."

Li Zhi shook her head. "The impostor must have extracted our memories when it infiltrated the group. It knows everything we know."

Han Wenlin frowned. "Then what do we do? Should we prove ourselves by our professions? I’m an online singer—I can sing really well. I’ll perform right now."

But Chen Tianran countered, "If the impostor has a persona, its abilities must align with that persona. It can even shapeshift—singing wouldn’t be hard for it."

Han Wenlin grew frustrated. "This doesn’t work, that doesn’t work—then what do you suggest? Should we cut open our chests to prove our innocence?!"

You Jingmeng gave him a sidelong glance. "Why are you so worked up?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Maybe it’s you."

Han Wenlin: "…………"

Pei Hongyu spoke coldly, "Use elimination."

The others asked, "How?"

Pei Hongyu said, "Ghosts always have counterparts."

The others didn’t quite understand. Li Zhi smiled and explained, "Based on our earlier ghost-hunting patterns, every real ghost has a decoy. The real ghost and its decoy share many similarities. The impostor should follow the same rule."

She looked at the five across from them. "Ou Wendong is a belly dancer. No one here shares his profession or background, so we can rule him out. Mengmeng is a beauty vlogger—same, no counterpart, so she’s clear. But Han Wenlin and Wei Xiao are each other’s counterparts. Both singers, similar dungeon experiences."

Ou Wendong, vindicated, exclaimed excitedly, "I told you I wasn’t the ghost! Can I come over now?!"

You Jingmeng had already dashed over, complaining pitifully, "Boss Li, did you suspect me earlier? You asked about my job first."

Li Zhi smiled. "No, I asked because I trusted you."

You Jingmeng grinned.

Across from them, Cheng Jiayue panicked. "It’s not me! I don’t have a counterpart either!"

With only three left, she did seem the least likely suspect.

But Li Zhi chuckled. "Oh, you do." She raised an eyebrow. "Your counterpart is me."

Cheng Jiayue froze. The others recalled her earlier self-introduction and realized—"Bit-part actress, pulled into the dungeon during a livestream… that’s exactly like Boss Li!"

Cheng Jiayue was on the verge of tears. "It’s really not me! I’ve acted in tons of dramas—I can prove it!"

Li Zhi watched her calmly. "The ghost extracted all our memories, including every film and TV show we’ve been in—even ones other players have watched."

An impostor infiltrating the group would absorb all players’ memories.

No matter how well it disguised itself, it could only mimic what the players knew. Beyond that, it had no knowledge of the outside world.

"Love’s Tribulation is Chi Yi’s drama. Extracting her memories, you’d know the director, the screenwriter, even that she took leave due to an injury during filming. But beyond that?" Li Zhi’s tone remained gentle, as if she were just chatting. "When you played an extra fairy in Love’s Tribulation, who was the assistant director in charge of your group? What was your daily wage? Which district did you stay in? What was the name of the other extra fairy working with you?"

Cheng Jiayue clenched her clothes, answering firmly, "The assistant director was Tang Zhengchu. Daily wage was 100 yuan. I stayed in Jindong District outside the studio. My co-extra was Yuan You—we’re still in touch!"

You Jingmeng immediately asked Chi Yi, "Was there an assistant director named Tang Zhengchu in your drama?"

Chi Yi looked lost. "No idea. I didn’t know the directors handling minor roles."

Cheng Jiayue’s face was flushed—whether from anger or panic—as she balled her fists. "I’m not the impostor! It has to be Han Wenlin or Wei Xiao! Why aren’t you grilling them?!"

"Because they’re each other’s counterparts—they can vouch for one another," Pei Hongyu said coldly. "Unless both are ghosts, the conditions conflict."

Wei Xiao argued, "If we were both ghosts, we wouldn’t know about the livestream PK stuff. Doesn’t the ghost only extract its counterpart’s memories?"

Tang Nanshan shook her head. "It extracts everyone’s memories. Even if you and Han Wenlin were ghosts, you’d know about livestreaming because Mengmeng and Ou Wendong are streamers. Their knowledge would be enough for your disguise."

"Unless…" She mused, "you can tell us something none of us know—but that we can verify."

Han Wenlin snapped, "How can you verify something you don’t know? That’s impossible!"

"No need." Li Zhi spoke suddenly. "The ghost has already exposed itself."

The group tensed.

She looked at Cheng Jiayue. "You made one mistake."

Cheng Jiayue’s face burned with indignation. "You still suspect me!"

Li Zhi smiled. "You never should’ve chosen me as your counterpart. If you hadn’t, you might’ve fooled me."

Her calmness was unnerving. Cheng Jiayue’s fists tightened, her voice gritted. "What do you mean?"

Li Zhi: "Of all the players here, only I’ve worked as an extra. So all your ‘extra’ knowledge could only come from me." She turned to Chi Yi. "When was Love’s Tribulation filmed?"

Chi Yi answered instantly, "Two years ago! It aired last year!"

Li Zhi looked back at Cheng Jiayue. "I did work as an extra—but that was when I first entered the industry. Back then, my daily wage was around 100 yuan." She smiled. "But that was six years ago."

Cheng Jiayue’s expression shifted. The flush drained from her face, her fists loosening.

Li Zhi’s voice was mild. "Love’s Tribulation was filmed two years ago. Extras’ wages have risen since then—especially for pretty faces playing fairies. The current market rate is around 300 yuan. But because I stopped doing extra work years ago, your knowledge of wages is stuck in my past."

Cheng Jiayue realized it now—Li Zhi’s rapid-fire questions had seemed simple, but they were a trap. The more desperately she tried to prove herself, the deeper she fell.

A single wage discrepancy had exposed her.

Cheng Jiayue stared at her. The anger and tension melted away, replaced by a faint, eerie smile. "You’re right. I shouldn’t have chosen you."

Han Wenlin and Wei Xiao scrambled away from her in terror.

The ten players stood together, wary as Cheng Jiayue’s true nature revealed itself.

"You really are clever." She studied Li Zhi, not angry or defeated—just fascinated. "Everyone else’s memories were so dull. Yours were the most interesting. That’s why I chose you. I wish you could stay with me."

Li Zhi smiled. "Flattered. But I’ll pass. Though you’re welcome to visit me sometime."

Cheng Jiayue sighed mournfully. "It’s so hard for us to cross barriers. Not like that guy…" She glanced at the dark sky and sighed again. "Time’s up."

With that, Cheng Jiayue dissolved into black smoke and vanished.

With the ghost caught, the park’s red warning lights flickered on early.

The certification room’s door creaked open. This was the ninth vote. If all nine previous ghost votes were correct, the players would clear the dungeon.

Pei Hongyu glanced at Li Zhi. For once, he spoke first. "You go ahead."

Li Zhi nodded and stepped inside.

This final visit revealed two rows of player names on the Hundred Ghosts Wall—nine in each. The names of the dead were grayed out. Beneath the remaining eleven names, a voting button appeared.

Had no one uncovered the impostor, or had players failed the nine challenges for hidden clues, seeing these names in the ninth round would’ve broken them.

Li Zhi submitted the answer for Xu Hao (the balloon game’s ghost) and finally pressed Cheng Jiayue’s glowing red name.

The countdown stopped. Green light flooded the room as the system announced:

"Congratulations, Player Li Zhi, for completing ten rounds of voting. All votes correct. Achievement unlocked: Ghost-Hunting Expert."

Li Zhi: "…………"

As she exited, the others filed in one by one.

Li Zhi gazed at the empty plaza. During the vote, the NPCs had all disappeared. Once everyone finished voting, they’d be transported out—no chance to see Li Jianxi again.

She rubbed the balloon string tied around her wrist, wondering if it could leave the dungeon.

Lost in thought, Han Wenlin suddenly sidled up, grinning. "Now will you tell me the carousel’s answer?"

Li Zhi blinked.

Under the park’s red lights, Han Wenlin’s smile looked sinister. "I know it wasn’t Hei Bai Wuchang. What was it?"

Li Zhi paused. "You didn’t vote for Hei Bai Wuchang."

Her tone was certain.

Han Wenlin smirked, smug. "Even Cheng Jiayue couldn’t fool you, but I did. Doesn’t that mean I’m smarter?"

Li Zhi: "…"

She glanced at Wei Xiao nearby. Han Wenlin followed her gaze and shrugged. "He tried to screw me over. Turnabout’s fair play, right?"