Modern Day

Fifteen years after getting married,

My husband suddenly wanted a divorce.

He said women over twenty-five are basically sixty-five.

I’m already thirty-eight. He said I’ve got one foot in the grave.

I was heartbroken.

Every time I thought about a future filled with money but no husband, sadness nearly suffocated me.

My husband found me annoying. He yelled at me.

“Would you seriously die without a man?”

I nodded. “I would.”

“Then just go die.”

I was miserable. I grabbed the 1.5 billion yuan I got in the divorce and ran out, crying.

I didn’t want to die, but I am a traditional woman at heart.

And a traditional woman simply can’t live without a man!

So, clutching all that money, I set out to find a new man.

But now my husband wasn’t happy about that either.

A group of tourists travels to an island for a vacation, only to be forced into a deadly game with enormous rewards and their lives at stake. Over the days that follow, one special contest will be held each day, and the event will be chosen by a randomly selected Featured Player. At least one person will be eliminated in every contest. There is only one way to end this brutal game early: identify the Mastermind hiding among them.

Chen Nuo is terminally ill and had planned to end his life during the trip. But once he is drawn into the game, desperation rekindles his will to survive, and he joins the other contestants in one unexpected, heart-stopping contest after another. As the number of survivors plummets, the game’s rules grow increasingly cruel, laying bare the best and worst of human nature in a struggle between life and death. They have three Mastermind votes. Can they unmask the Mastermind? And what astonishing secret lies behind The Missing Game?

That year, I was hauling freight through the Northeast when a snowstorm trapped us on the road. In the blinding snow, I heard someone knock on my truck door.

I opened it, and the snow outside seemed to have stopped.

The brothers traveling with me all seemed to have gotten out of their trucks long ago.

They were standing in the wilderness beyond the highway, waving at me.

I was just about to climb down when a burst of static crackled from the radio inside the cab.

Captain Xu Song’s voice came through in broken fragments.

“…Whatever you do, don’t get out.”

The first time I went out on a long-haul run with my Master, I suddenly heard someone calling my name in the middle of the night.

The voice made my heart race.

I leaned against the window to look out, but my Master suddenly yanked me back!

He rolled down the window with lightning speed and spat his cigarette butt out with a fierce flick.

Then, pointing at the pitch-black road outside, he let out a torrent of creative curses!

I was young back then and had no idea who he was yelling at.

I could only curl up in the passenger seat like a shrimp, not daring to make a sound.

Later, I spent over ten years driving long-haul trucks on my own.

I never again encountered a situation where someone called my name in the dead of night.

Until three days ago, when I suddenly received word that my Master had passed away.

Song Qi drew a dare: check his phone.

Of everyone in his contacts, who had he told “I love you” the most?

The class beauty: three times.

Me: 972 times.

The jeering around us died at once.

The class beauty burst into tears.

In front of everyone, Song Qi deleted my contact information, then smiled as he coaxed her.

“That’s worth crying over?”

“You know I only dated her for three months to keep up an act.”

“Nothing I said to her was real.”

Those nine hundred-odd declarations had all come from one drunken night.

Song Qi had crouched by the roadside, impossible for anyone to pull away, his head bowed as he sent me the same three words over and over.

“Once I send you ‘I love you’ 999 times, the bet is off.”

“Then we’ll be together for real, okay?”

I transmigrated into a tragic romance novel as the female lead’s sister.

In the original plot, I spent my time abusing her daughter while simultaneously trying to seduce her husband.

Ultimately, I groomed her daughter to become the next generation’s tragic heroine, while I met a miserable end myself-tossed into the ocean to feed the fish.

Now, looking at the innocent Little Bean Bun standing before me, I said: “If you love suffering, you’ll have a never-ending supply of it. So, do you want to swallow that bitter pill, or are you going to speak up for yourself?”

“Go up there and give him a piece of your mind. If you win the argument, I’ll buy you a burger; if you lose, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What? You’re afraid to win? Do you really love being a perpetual runner-up that much? You don’t have to be number one, but you can’t settle for second best, and you certainly can’t be a pushover.”

“Your mother brought you into this world to enjoy life, not to suffer. Go compete, go grab what’s yours, and be brave! Go get ’em, baby!”

[Does Chinese Taoist magic work on foreign ghosts?]

[I have no idea. I’m on my way to a cemetery castle right now. I’ll let you all know when I get back.]

My reply to the post was voted to the top of the comments.

Everyone said I was bragging, but what they didn’t know was that I am the sole Earth Master successor.

And the thing inside that British Castle is far more terrifying than any ghost.

Three years after my death, Zhou Jibai won his first Best Actor award.

At the awards ceremony, the host asked, “At this moment, do you have any words you’d like to share?”

Zhou Jibai dialed a number, but no one picked up. A mocking smile played on his lips. “On the day we broke up, someone told me that if I ever won Best Actor, she would jump off the eighteenth floor.”

“Why is she afraid to answer the phone now? She didn’t actually jump, did she?” I was currently floating right beside him, trying to touch that trophy, but I nearly choked back to life at those words.

… Zhou Jibai, how rude can you get?

Do you know what it feels like to be diagnosed with a terminal illness at such a young age?

At a construction site, five coffins were dug up-four with something inside, one empty. Strange things kept happening at the site.

In less than three days, two workers had already been sent to the hospital.

Someone had asked me to go there and haul the coffins away.

But the expert the site had hired kept blocking me at every turn, refusing to let me move them.

With a dark, sinister look, he told me: “These five coffins can’t be moved by anyone within seven days. Whoever moves them will be the one buried inside.”