Yang Jian and Li Yang smoothly arrived at the fifth floor of the post office.
The fifth floor was somewhat different from the previous first to fourth floors. Since it was the last floor, there was nothing else above it, just a roof without windows, under which was a hall. Surrounding the hall were seven rooms, identical to those on the lower floors.
501âŠ502⊠and so on.
The hall was empty at the moment, dim and oppressive, with only faint yellow light glowing.
Fifth Floor Messengers rarely gathered together because their mail delivery tasks had long intervals of a year between letters, leading to most of the time the fifth floor being vacant, rarely seeing other Fifth Floor Messengers.
Yang Jian was not on a mail delivery task when he arrived on the fifth floor; he entered the fifth floor by burning letter paper, so he couldnât chance upon another Fifth Floor Messenger on task.
As for Leuk Qingqing, itâs likely she wonât enter the fifth floor temporarily unless her mail delivery task arises, then itâs possible for her to appear on the fifth floor.
âNot a single person here, the Fifth Floor Messengers surely wouldnât linger for long on this floor. Moreover, due to the special nature of their identity, itâs estimated that Fifth Floor Messengers would hide their identities and live outside. Catching a Fifth Floor Messenger to gain information from them would probably not be easy.â
Li Yang looked around and said.
No matter which floor of the post office one enters, gathering intelligence and information is the most crucial.
Yang Jian and Li Yang, coming to the post officeâs fifth floor for the first time, knew the best way to quickly obtain information was to target the Messengers.
In previous instances, whether on the third or fourth floor, they encountered Messengers, but this time they were unlucky not to meet a Fifth Floor Messenger.
âNo hurry, letâs look around.â
Yang Jian held a cracked long spear solemnly, grasped a glass bottle with one hand, then walked into the fifth-floor hall.
Li Yang also held the glass bottle containing the Dead Manâs Head and followed.
They hadnât walked many steps when the old wooden door behind them suddenly slammed shut with a bang.
As soon as the door closed, Yang Jian immediately sensed that something was off.
The surrounding yellowish light flickered, an indescribable supernatural power interfered with everything around, and their perception became blurred for a moment.
Yet this influence vanished as quickly as it came.
As if it were all a hallucination, the next moment everything returned to normal, the surrounding lights stopped flickering, and the strong supernatural interference vanished.
Yang Jian frowned.
Despite the occurrence being brief, he could confirm he had indeed experienced some supernatural interference, which targeted not individuals but the surrounding environment.
At that moment, it seemed they entered a deeper supernatural space, not the actual fifth floor.
After all, the post officeâs fifth floor was merely a name. Here could be called the fifth floor, and a supernatural space could also be called the fifth floor. At that moment, Yang Jian even doubted if he was still inside the post office, wondering if the fifth floor could be another supernatural place with the post office staircase as a connection to supernatural places.
This thought briefly appeared in his mind before Yang Jian was distracted by something on the hallâs walls.
Oil paintings.
The first floor hall of the post office had series of oil paintings, and the fifth floor hallâs walls were also filled with oil paintings.
All the oil paintings seemed to originate from one individualâs hand, sharing a common style â dark, oppressive. They were clearly normal landscape paintings yet emitted a sinister, eerie feel. However, landscape paintings were few here; most were portraits with varying degrees of newness and differences in attire, ornaments.
Some portraitsâ attire styles resembled the seventies to eighties, some had modern styles, and others seemed even older, wearing long gowns likely from the Republic of China Period.
Portraits included men, women, elderly, and youths, beautiful women, and vicious people, with varied appearances and expressions.
With such a multitude of portraits displaying varying quality and styles, they obviously couldnât have been painted out of thin air but created with live people as references.
Yang Jian approached one portrait, touched it, then sniffed it.
A familiar scent.
âThe scent is the same as the one from the Ghost Cabinet, just like our previous assumptions â the Ghost Cabinet originates from the post office,â he thought, âand very likely is a lost painting from the fifth floor of the post office.â
He scanned these portraits.
Imagining if the Ghost Cabinet were here and hung among these, would it appear particularly incongruous?
The answer was clear.
Not at all incongruous; the artistic style and form of the Ghost Cabinet were identical to these paintings, and since the Ghost Cabinet was also a portrait, hanging it here would be akin to returning it to its rightful place.
âCaptain, these paintings look quite unusual, giving off an uneasy feeling, as if theyâre connected to some supernatural powers.â Li Yang frowned, having also seen the Ghost Cabinet, his worry was amplified.
âAt least there wonât be any danger for now; the time hasnât reached six yet, the post office hasnât turned off the lights, and even if there were a ghost, it wouldnât be active yet.â Yang Jian checked the time.
Itâs now five-thirty.
Half an hour left till six. Before then, just staying in a room would suffice since the post office rooms are safe.
They continued to observe.
Suddenly.
Li Yang called, âCaptain, come and take a look at this painting, doesnât it resemble you?â
âWhat?â
Yang Jian quickly redirected his gaze, heading toward Li Yang.
Li Yang, staring at a painting on the wall, appeared somewhat baffled, pointing at it.
Indeed, it was shocking because the portrait depicted a man in an old suit standing on a road, with a barely visible village behind him, and the manâs appearance had an uncanny resemblance to Yang Jian.
Yang Jianâs expression instantly turned grim as he recognized the painting.
âThis is not me.â
âIf itâs not you, then who is itâŠâ Li Yang asked in surprise.
Yang Jian replied, âItâs my father; itâs a portrait of my father. I recognize the road in the painting, itâs the road leading into my hometown, and the village in the background is my hometown. Though painted ambiguously, I can still identify it.â
He furrowed his brow.
Why did his fatherâs portrait appear here? Had his father entered the post officeâs fifth floor before?
âIt seems itâs not just my fatherâs portrait here.â
Suddenly, Yang Jian noticed another portrait beside his fatherâs. It was of a young woman in a blue floral dress, with a braid, appearing very youthful, likely under twenty. Her background was architecture from the Republic of China Period, indicating she also belonged to that era.
He recognized the woman as his fatherâs cousin, her appearance unmistakable, because this woman still lived in his hometown.
âNow this gets interesting; the woman in the portrait is from the Republic of China Period, Yang Yuanyuan in the archives is from the eighties and drowned, and thereâs still a woman identical to her alive.â
âRepublic of China Period, forty years ago, now â three periods, three identities, one appearance; sheâs like someone whoâs lived three lives. I now understand why my father left such a unique person in our hometown; she evidently harbors great secrets, entangled with many things.â
Yang Jian pondered.
He felt his father had significant connections with this woman during his life, but all these old stories were buried with his fatherâs death.
Yet now was not the time to dwell on these matters.
Though Yang Jian found his fatherâs portrait here, it held no real significance beyond speculating his father may have visited the fifth floor in the past, nothing more.
âLetâs find a room to rest. After tonight, weâll continue investigating the conditions of the post officeâs fifth floor.â Yang Jian suggested, ceasing his study of the portraits.
Though aware of the portraitsâ eeriness, his primary objective was the post office itself, not these unrelated portraits.
Li Yang nodded.
The two decided to first find a room to stay for the night, arriving at Room 501.
The door was locked, unable to be opened.
âCaptain, the door wonât open.â Li Yang lowered his voice and said, âIâll try the other doors.â
He sensed something was wrong and quickly headed to room 502, but the result was obvious, the second roomâs door wouldnât open either.
Then he tried room 503 and 504, but ultimately every room was locked and couldnât be opened.
âAll the rooms are locked. Is this place so unfriendly to messengers?â Yang Jian said, âDid you use supernatural power?â
âIt didnât work either.â Li Yang tried using the Ghost Door Blocker power to interfere with the entire room.
But soon, the door in front of him shook violently twice, directly bouncing Li Yang away. A stronger supernatural power blocked his influence.
The Ghost Door Blocker failed.
âUsing supernatural power couldnât open any of the doors. Whatâs going on with the fifth floor? Or are all the rooms occupied, with doors locked from inside?â Yang Jian squinted his eyes and raised the cracked spear in his hand.
He had a vague suspicion.
Immediately.
He swung the Firewood Knife at the door of room 501 without hesitation.
The Firewood Knife was usually dull, but when it touched the supernatural, it became exceptionally sharp, easily dismembering spirits and fierce ghosts. Previously, he had smashed the Ghost Cabinet with the Firewood Knife.
The next moment.
The door was instantly split open with a cut.
The lights were still on, but the room should have been pitch black. However, once the cut was made, a light emerged from inside. It wasnât from a light bulb but a candle. No, accurately, it was from an oil lamp, faint and wobbly, indistinct, making it hard to tell if there was anyone inside or not.
âIt seems it wasnât a matter of being unable to open; it was a matter of not having the right means.â Yang Jian said.
His methods were somewhat violent, and he intended to lift the Firewood Knife to split the door open again, but at the next moment, a slight cough came from inside.
âCough, cough, a new messenger?â
A voice came from the room, weak and seemingly unhealthy, but Yang Jian didnât see anyone inside through the doorway crack.
âYou just arrived on this floor, and youâre trying to destroy the doors? Do you want to get everyone killed? Didnât the experiences from the first to the fourth floor teach you the rules here?â Though weak, the voice revealed a hint of dissatisfaction.
After all, no one would be pleased if their door was smashed while they were peacefully staying here.
âI thought there were no messengers on the fifth floor, but it turns out there actually are. Thatâs good news.â Hearing this, Yang Jian was not apprehensive; instead, he seemed delighted.
Without a word, he intended to rush in and pull out the messenger.
However, the next moment.
Creaaaak!
The door of the neighboring room 502 suddenly opened, and a man in his fifties, appearing somewhat aged, quickly walked out, with a grim expression, saying, âDonât enter room 501, open your eyes wide and see clearly if thereâs really someone in that room.â
Yang Jianâs expression tightened, and he halted his steps to look at the man who suddenly appeared, âAre you also a messenger on the fifth floor?â
âI donât want to see young people like you dying needlessly on the fifth floor, and I noticed you stopped in front of that portrait just now. Unexpectedly, you look almost identical to him in the portrait. If it werenât for this reason, I wouldnât have opened this door.â
Yang Jian frowned and scrutinized the man.
âItâs normal to be suspicious of me, but I have to tell you one fact: thereâs no one in room 501. Itâs a deadly room, and once you enter, itâs unlikely youâll come out alive.â The man in his fifties said cautiously.
Yang Jian glanced at room 501.
He peered through the crack with his ghostly eyes.
Inside, the oil lamp still flickered, but no one could be seen, yet the voice continued, âGet out of here, donât disturb me further, or I wonât let you go.â
It seemed someone truly resented Yang Jian, issuing a warning.
But in reality, there was no one inside, making the situation extremely bizarre.
Yang Jian almost got lured in by the voice, nearly rushing in.
âThe other rooms probably wonât open their doors for you. Stay in my room for the night. Anyway, I have some things to ask you. Iâve been here too long, and Iâve lost clarity on many things.â
The man in his fifties waved his hand, signaling Yang Jian to enter, then turned and walked back into the room alone.
Li Yang looked at Yang Jian, âCaptain, what should we do now?â
Yang Jianâs expression shifted slightly, and after thinking for a moment, he said, âLetâs stay in room 502 for now. We can try to gather some information from that person about this place. This room does seem a bit sketchy, so letâs avoid it for now.â
Li Yang nodded in agreement.
The two turned and headed towards room 502.
But just as they were about to enter the room, the weak voice from room 501 suddenly arose again, âOh, interesting, you barely reached the fifth floor, and your alertness is this low? Room 502 has always been vacant, and youâre actually entering it? Itâs said there was a fierce ghost locked up there. I just heard the door open; the ghost likely got out.â
âHowever, the fifth floor of the post office is unique. The ghost is confined in the room, unable to leave the door, so it can only lure people inside.â
Yang Jian shuddered upon hearing this, stopping abruptly as he looked at room 502 ahead.
It was pitch black.
The man in his fifties was walking forward with his back to Yang Jian and Li Yang, seemingly with no intention of turning back.
Li Yang was also startled into a cold sweat.
Because the voice from room 501 was right, the person from room 502 indeed hadnât stepped out of the room, only greeting them from the doorway.
So was the person from room 502 really a fierce ghost confined in the room?
The man in his fifties then turned around in the dark room and said, âDonât believe the voice from room 501. That ghost thing talks nonsense every day. No one knows where the voice originates from. Some speculate itâs a supernatural item, others think the room itself haunts the fierce ghost, and some suspect a former messenger didnât die but was trapped inside for some reason.â
âTime is short, the lights will go out soon. If you donât want to die outside, get inside quickly. I wonât keep the door open for you forever. If you doubt me, Iâll immediately shut the door and wonât care about your life or death anymore.â
âCaptain, who should we trust? Both sides seem a bit odd.â Li Yang couldnât help but break out in a cold sweat.
Is the situation on the fifth floor of the post office really so perilous?
They had just arrived and had already encountered a fierce ghost.
And the ghost was right inside the room.
âAlthough I donât know the rules of the fifth floor, I believe itâs unlikely that each room could be so different. Some rooms can house people while others house ghosts. However, thereâs also the possibility that some rooms are invaded by supernatural forcesâŠâ
Yang Jian furrowed his brow deeply.
The two rooms had people accusing the other of having problems.
The voice from room 501 accused the person in room 502 of being a ghost.
The person in room 502 said the voice from room 501 was a supernatural occurrence, that the room had long been empty and entering would likely mean not coming out.
In any case, the only certain thing is, one of the rooms definitely has a problem.
If there werenât a problem, they wouldnât be accusing each other of it.
Of course, thereâs also the possibility that both rooms have issues.
âDonât enter either room, find a third option.â Yang Jian hesitated, not wanting to take this gamble.
Avoiding the gamble means not losing.
At this moment, Wang Chalingâs advice proved right.
Yang Jian and Li Yang turned around, trying to open doors to other rooms.
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
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