Monster Escape Room Re-Employment Chapter 5
byMissing Out on a Hundred Million
Jiang Lingyi spent the entire Sunday confirming various documents and discussing improvements for the escape room bit by bit with the leaders of different functional groups. He barely managed to draft a rough framework for the proposal, with many details still needing attention. However, this level of powerful execution had already moved many employees; quite a few voluntarily joined midway, offering suggestions and hoping to contribute to the revival of the Phantom Immersive Horror Escape Room.
Jiang Lingyi worked until two or three in the morning. Unable to stay awake any longer, he slept directly on the office sofa.
“Beep, beep beep…”
The piercing sound of his phone alarm drilled into Jiang Lingyi’s ears like a steel needle. He shuddered and nearly sprang up. Although his mind hadn’t fully processed the situation, this ringtone was etched into his subconscious. When it sounded, it meant terrifying news, scarier than any horror escape room combined:
It was Monday.
“Sleep.”
The annoying alarm suddenly faded away, replaced by a voice he missed—gentle yet clear, like light snow falling in deep winter. A pair of hands, cold as snowflakes, covered his eyes, smoothing away all of Jiang Lingyi’s agitation. A warm, soft sensation came from the back of his head, a slight fibrous itch, and his neck was comfortably propped up.
Jiang Lingyi groggily grasped those hands and pulled them to his chest.
“No, I can’t, I’ll be late… I don’t want to go to work…”
“I will send you there.” Of course, not by driving or calling a taxi, but by… teleportation magic.
Lou Xian looked with some distress at the restless Jiang Lingyi resting on his lap. Whenever he moved his wrist slightly, Jiang Lingyi would pull his hand tighter, refusing to let go, like a child determined to sleep while hugging a teddy bear. Wandering Spirits and some mentally immature employees often liked to cling to Lou Xian, lying on his lap, giggling or crying. After a few soothing strokes, they would roll onto the floor with a look of serene bliss, as if ascending to heaven.
However, this was the first time he had given someone a lap pillow. It was warm, and he didn’t dislike it. Jiang Lingyi in his sleep looked more like the naive college student from two years ago, the one Lou Xian remembered. At that time, Lou Xian had recently been exiled to this world, and his understanding of everything was being reconstructed—in short, he lacked common sense.
For some reason, everyone kept their distance from him. Only Jiang Lingyi had clumsily stumbled in front of him and said, “I like you.”
So Lou Xian treated him as a subject for learning and imitating humans. But it was ultimately too difficult; he couldn’t understand Jiang Lingyi’s joys and sorrows. Jiang Lingyi was happy just by being close to him, which Lou Xian saw no reason to be happy about.
He knew the meaning of the word “breakup”—the termination of a romantic relationship, usually occurring when feelings had broken down. Literary works often described how the dumped party was heartbroken, but he didn’t feel that way. And since Jiang Lingyi was the one who actively ended the relationship, why did he look like he was about to cry?
Lou Xian did not ignore the confusion in his heart. Over the past two years, he had been secretly observing Jiang Lingyi, knowing his resume inside and out.
This time, those lingering questions would surely be answered.
Lou Xian paused, recalling his scattered thoughts, and activated the teleportation spell.
“…Jiang… Little Jiang, wake up.”
Jiang Lingyi was vigorously shaken by the shoulder. He raised his head sleepily from the office desk, his back aching, his eyes dull, feeling as if all his energy had been drained.
The colleague who woke him up said with concern, “Why are you pushing yourself so hard? Look at you, you definitely pulled an all-nighter here. If you keep this up, you’re making things difficult for the rest of us.”
Jiang Lingyi felt that he had missed something during the time he was drowsy.
Splashing cold water on his face at the sink, the biting chill of the water woke up his memory.
Lou Xian… gave him a lap pillow?
He fiercely pinched his cheek. How could he be so weak? When Lou Xian said “Sleep,” he actually passed out like a pig?! That was a lap pillow! For a moment, he didn’t know whether he had lost out or gained.
Worse, the thought of having to go to the Phantom Immersive Horror Escape Room to work as a part-time (acting) manager after work made him restless and unable to concentrate. His tolerance for Lou Xian, honed over many years—well, not many years, just four years of college plus two years post-graduation—had completely collapsed in just two days. It was like a sliver of light escaping from a long-sealed magic box, causing the entire box to be overturned and blown away. The suppressed and restrained obsession hidden inside instantly transformed into a massive, unending volcanic eruption, yet he didn’t know where to direct that surge of passion and fervor.
His colleague also sensed the unusual atmosphere around him and patted his shoulder in the pantry during lunch break.
“Little Jiang, are you, perhaps, dating someone?”
“Huh?” Jiang Lingyi was startled.
The colleague narrowed his eyes, reminiscing about the good old days: “You’re radiating an aura that says you’re going to rush out and meet your date as soon as work ends. Around here, only lovesick fools and people rushing to pick up their kids have that kind of reaction.”
“If I told you I’m going to my side job after work… would you believe me?”
The colleague’s pupils dilated for a moment, startled by the young man’s fierce, wolf-like spirit. He spoke even more earnestly: “Little Jiang, money is good, but you need to be alive to spend what you earn.”
“I exercise and get regular check-ups. My current indicators are still normal.”
Except for a slightly fast heart rate these past few days.
To avoid acting too abnormally and becoming the subject of gossip, Jiang Lingyi tried hard to control his thoughts. After work, he pretended to be nonchalant, leaving the group building as if he were just taking a stroll, and hailed a taxi to the mall.
On the pull-up banner at the entrance, the words “20% Off” had been replaced with a jarring sticker showing “80% Off.” The canceled escape room themes were covered with black cloth, like “Sold Out” labels crudely pasted onto a menu. It was ugly, but it was somewhat eye-catching.
There were a few more staff members in the lobby: a receptionist; a guide responsible for directing guests to the escape room entrance and giving a brief introduction; and one or two Wandering Spirits handling chores like clearing trash, replenishing snacks, and looking after the water dispenser.
The receptionist was the vampire who liked to frequent maid cafes. Dressed in a work uniform, he looked quite presentable and interacted the most with humans—or rather, he was overly integrated. Having him manage the comings and goings shouldn’t be a problem.
The guide was a girl with long black hair trailing on the floor, bangs almost covering her eyes, wearing a simple, dark Warring States period robe. Fine, White Impermanence was at least cuter than Chunzi.
As soon as the Wandering Spirits saw Jiang Lingyi, the white masks attached to their faces changed to expressions like (￣▽￣)／ or (=ω｀=). They swayed side to side to show their welcome. They were all summoned by guests using the Ouija board during escape room missions, having long forgotten their lives before death. Their minds and thoughts were similar to those of cats and dogs. If he were to keep one at home… No, no, Jiang Lingyi chased this ridiculous idea out of his mind.
He inspected the work he had assigned yesterday. Time was precious; they absolutely had to reopen tomorrow at the latest. Any parts that couldn’t be completed would have to be rectified while operating.
Time flew by, and soon it was past eleven o’clock. He hadn’t seen Lou Xian today, rendering all the psychological preparation he had done before coming completely useless. Feeling unsatisfied, he went to the lobby to ask a Wandering Spirit if it knew where Lou Xian was. It floated out of the store, looked back, and signaled Jiang Lingyi to follow.
The mall was already closed, and the escalators were stopped. Jiang Lingyi had to treat them as stairs. The top floor was an open-air rooftop garden. He pushed open the glass door, and the cold night wind rushed toward him. He pulled his trench coat tighter and saw Lou Xian not far away.
The autumn night was deep and crisp, the moonlight pale and bright. The faint scent of hibiscus drifted from the flower beds with the breeze.
And there was that tall, slender figure, like a phantom bubble, almost merging with the silent night.
In the distance, the five-colored neon lights were noisy, and scarlet artificial stars flickered and jumped between the glass windows of the tall buildings.
The gentle breeze ruffled Lou Xian’s hair. He tilted his head slightly, seemingly watching Jiang Lingyi. Confused light and shadows flickered in his deep gray eyes, yet never reached the bottom.
Jiang Lingyi walked forward involuntarily, one step, two steps, reaching out his arms in his direction, wanting to grasp something in vain. He put on his glasses, shielding his Spiritual Sight, shielding the reality of this world, just so he could see Lou Xian’s figure more clearly, even more clearly.
At this moment, he realized how hopelessly—
He was in love with Lou Xian.