Chapter Three: Huang Lihua’s Timely Warning

Huang Lihua and Wilson arrived at the dark sky castle, entering to see Princess Maria. She sat on a sandalwood throne, delicate features radiant, like a goddess. The dragon knight stood before her, arms crossed, tall and imposing.

They bowed. “Your Highness,” they intoned.

“Lin Xiaoyang has arrived at the hotel,” Huang Lihua reported.

Maria smiled. “Proceed with the plan. First, subdue the Paradise Inn, where Anderson’s men use the hotel as their base. Avoid alerting Anderson if possible.”

Wilson asked, “Why not eliminate Robert and his men directly? We’ll confront Anderson eventually; why such precautions?”

The dragon knight spoke slowly, “Eliminating Robert is easy, but secrecy is not guaranteed. The Princess wishes to win him over through benevolence, to serve willingly.”

“I see. Your foresight is admirable,” Wilson said.

Maria added, “My informants in Bat Castle report they have found the girl, Xie Huijun. She is under Anderson’s custody.”

Huang Lihua gasped. “Then… she’s in danger…”

“Fate has arranged it,” Maria said. “Otherwise, Lin Xiaoyang and your granddaughter Huang Minhua could never meet. Follow the plan.”

Huang Lihua nodded. “Understood. We will take our leave.”

That evening, Lin Xiaoyang arrived in the lobby, as agreed. Huang Lihua sat in a corner, waiting. Passing a vending machine, Xiaoyang brought two cups of hot coffee.

“Hi, Huang Lihua. Glad to see you. Here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you,” Huang Lihua said.

“Yesterday felt like a strange dream,” Xiaoyang admitted.

A lobby attendant whispered to Robert, who immediately picked up the phone.

“Young man, I’m here to remind you,” Huang Lihua said, sipping his coffee.

“Remind me of what?” Xiaoyang asked, curious.

“What is today’s date and day?” Huang Lihua asked.

“April 13, Friday,” Xiaoyang replied.

Huang Lihua’s face grew anxious. “Tonight, you cannot stay overnight.”

“Why?” Xiaoyang asked, curiosity rising like the aroma of strong coffee. Huang Lihua lowered his face to the table, pointing behind Xiaoyang. Four towering white-clad men entered the lobby, one carrying a thick white coat—he recognized it as a restraint jacket for psychiatric patients.

“Do you remember the date on the painting?” Huang Lihua asked.

“April 13, 1925,” Xiaoyang replied.

“I was attacked that night,” Huang Lihua said.

“Attacked? But you’re alive!” Xiaoyang stammered.

“Write your name and today’s date in my palm. Remember every word I say,” Huang Lihua instructed. Xiaoyang complied.

“First, check out and leave the ‘Forest of Oblivion’ before sunset. Tonight is the evil Friday the 13th. If you want to see me tomorrow, return—the statue garden in the lobby. Walk behind me, see the words in my palm, and you’ll understand. Pretend you don’t know me. Stay calm. Remember, I won’t harm you…”

Before he could finish, three of the men restrained Huang Lihua and dressed him in the restraint coat, hands cuffed behind him. Another approached Xiaoyang, speaking in German:

“Sir, this Chinese man is mentally unstable. We are taking him to the asylum. Sorry for any disturbance.”

Xiaoyang remained calm. “It’s fine. Do your work.”

He watched as Huang Lihua was bound and led away. Half-believing, half-doubtful, Xiaoyang returned to his room, heart racing. He touched the painting; it was solid behind. Yet the image of Huang Lihua seemed alive within it.

Hastily, he packed and left Room 504. At the lobby, he returned his key and paid his bill. Without looking back, he drove off, leaving the hotel and the “Forest of Oblivion” behind. As he glanced back from the road, the dense woods were cloaked in mist.

Chapter Four: The Stone Sculpture Garden

Lin Xiaoyang checked into a nearby hotel. After completing the registration at the front desk, he took the key and headed upstairs to his room. He placed his luggage on the table, slipped off his shoes and coat, and stepped into the bathroom. Staring at his reflection while brushing his teeth, he recounted the events of the past three days in meticulous detail. “Huang Lihua was so eager for me to leave the Paradise Hotel… There has to be something behind it. Tomorrow, I’ll go back and get to the bottom of it.”

Meanwhile, in the basement of the Paradise Hotel, Huang Lihua’s hands and feet were bound with iron chains between two iron pillars. The innkeeper, Robert, was interrogating him, flanked by several ghostly enforcers clutching restraining devices, their faces twisted in grimaces.

Robert spoke in French: “Huang Lihua, do you know what crime you’ve committed?”

Feigning ignorance, Huang Lihua retorted, “What crime have I committed, exactly?”

Robert sneered. “Don’t play dumb with me! First: you should not have brought that Chinese youth into the Dark World. Second: you should not have advised him to leave.”

Huang Lihua forced a bitter smile. “Old innkeeper, that’s clearly adding charges on top of charges! Perhaps you bear a grudge against me?”

“Perhaps I do! You’ve lived here as a leisurely resident, favored by the leader, and I’ve long found you disagreeable. Now, be honest: what is your relationship with that Chinese youth?”

Knowing Robert’s deep-seated bias, Huang Lihua anticipated that Robert would seize this opportunity for personal vengeance. He decided to reveal the worst-case scenario: “Fine… that youth is my grandson-in-law.”

Robert accepted the answer but pressed further. “So you warned him to leave on the Night of the Malevolent Spirits… but why did you bring him into the Dark World? That’s a violation of the decree!”

“It’s nothing serious. I merely indulged his curiosity.”

Robert’s face hardened. “Does that satisfy me? No. Violating the decree demands that I act according to protocol. Your freedom is hereby revoked, and a report will be sent to headquarters, awaiting the leader’s orders. Bring the Seal of the Curse.”

The ghostly enforcers immediately retrieved a black ebony box. Robert opened it, took out a black stone seal, grabbed Huang Lihua by the hair, and pressed it onto his forehead.

Huang Lihua’s face froze, the stony transformation creeping downward from the crown of his head.

“Dress him appropriately,” Robert commanded. “We must avoid drawing the attention of tourists. Send him to the Stone Sculpture Garden and wait for further orders.”

Several ghostly enforcers responded in unison, lifting Huang Lihua’s body and carrying him into the underground passage.

Driven by curiosity, Lin Xiaoyang returned to the Paradise Hotel, determined to uncover the truth. He parked his car and walked into the statue garden at the front of the hotel. In a corner, he found a sculpture of Huang Lihua. The statue looked new—no moss, no thick layer of dust—and the flowers and grass around the base had been trampled.

“Judging by this, the statue must have been placed here recently… perhaps even last night,” Xiaoyang thought. He examined the statue closely. The figure was dressed exactly as Huang Lihua had appeared the previous evening: one hand dragging a palette, a brush clenched between his teeth, the other hand resting behind his back.

Following yesterday’s instructions, Xiaoyang circled to the back of the statue. He noticed that the hand, once partially clenched, was now slowly opening. Three lines of text and a roll of microfilm appeared in the palm.

“This… is incredible!” Xiaoyang squatted to read the lines: “Lin Xiaoyang, April 13, 2002.” He gasped. “This is exactly the name and date I wrote in his palm yesterday.”

“Leave this dangerous place immediately. The hotel staff are all vampires.”

Xiaoyang thought, I knew it.

“Take this film and share my work with the world.”

Muttering to himself, Xiaoyang said, “I understand now. Huang Lihua wanted me to return, to take his work and present it to the world.”

He picked up the roll of microfilm. In that instant, he felt the warmth of Huang Lihua’s palm—the same warmth he had felt when shaking hands yesterday. Before leaving, Xiaoyang turned back to the statue. The corners of its mouth slowly curved upward, and the brush it held slipped gently from between its teeth.

“Master,” Xiaoyang whispered, “I will make sure your work sees the light of day. Thank you for saving me with your sacrifice.”

He took the microfilm to a photo studio.

In French, he instructed, “Please develop this film and make slides from the photos.”

“When do you need them?” the shopkeeper asked.

“As soon as they’re ready. Here’s my number.” Xiaoyang handed over his business card.

The shopkeeper accepted it and said, “Please sign the receipt.”

Xiaoyang wrote his name in English. The shopkeeper tore off the duplicate and handed it back to him.

Stepping out of the studio, camera bag slung over his shoulder and a digital camera hanging around his neck, Xiaoyang rode his bicycle along the blossoms of Lake Lucerne.

On the lawn, two families played with their children—girls with pinwheels, boys with bamboo helicopters. Xiaoyang stopped, planted his feet firmly on the ground, snapped a few photos, and waved at the families with a smile.

Lucerne was divided by the Reuss River into the Old Town and New Town, connected by the Chapel Bridge. Xiaoyang rode across the bridge, occasionally pausing to capture the swans and waterfowl gliding across the lake.

Chapter Five: Ghost Emperor Anderson

In Sicily, beneath an abandoned church in a fog-shrouded valley, lay the mausoleum complex of Ghost Emperor Anderson. Swarms of bats had made the caverns their home, earning the area the local nickname Bat Valley, a place avoided by all.

The underground labyrinth contained more than a thousand rooms of varying sizes, connected like a spider’s web. Kerosene lamps lit the corridors, and dozens of ventilation shafts kept the rooms dry.

At the center was a hall large enough to seat hundreds—a place where Anderson convened his generals and advisors. As night fell, he met with his core team: Archmage Rufus, Witch Sumi, Phantom Hand George and Scissorhand Jack, alongside generals White Wolf, Black Bear, and Ghosthound. Each sat in their respective human-skin chairs.

A ghostly messenger brought a letter to Rufus. Opening it, Rufus found a letter accompanied by several photographs.

After reading, Rufus told the messenger, “Return to the innkeeper and inform him: I will dispatch someone to verify the truth before deciding how to handle Painter Huang.”

The messenger bowed and left.

Rufus handed the photographs to Witch Sumi. She examined them carefully, holding one up with a frown. “This young man of Eastern descent… he seems familiar, yet I can’t place where I’ve seen him before.”

Rufus leaned in. “Sumi, your intuition is sharp. Though I remain skeptical of reincarnation, this Eastern youth’s features resemble David Phil, the captain of the royal guards from years past.”

“David Phil?” Emperor Anderson exclaimed. “Sumi, use your crystal ball. Uncover this young man’s origins immediately.”

Only Rufus and Sumi knew the full history between Anderson and David. During the attack on the Sky Castle, Anderson and his bat army had been defeated by David’s elite guards. Rufus’s betrayal during the battle had allowed Anderson to strike David down and claim his head, salvaging some pride. David’s name was a living insult to the arrogant Ghost Emperor; to Archmage Rufus, he was the rival who had stolen Princess Maria’s heart.

Rufus stood. “Your Majesty, whether this youth is David reincarnated or not, I will uncover his background.”

Anderson nodded, pleased. “Rufus is cautious, as always. If it is David, we eliminate him swiftly to avoid future trouble.”

Rufus added, “Even if he is David reincarnate, we should attempt to recruit him as an ally. Only if he sides with Maria and threatens us should we consider killing him. In battle, an enraged opponent could cost us dearly.”

Anderson laughed heartily. “Ha! Wise as ever, Rufus. You never lose out.”

“I will locate the Eastern youth now,” Sumi said, retrieving a crystal and invoking a spell. The image of Lin Xiaoyang appeared within.

“He’s traveling by train… the scenery looks like the eastern districts near Paris,” Sumi reported.

“Perfect. I’ll send my female apprentice, Annie, immediately,” Rufus decided.

“Master, is this some sort of seduction scheme?” Sumi asked.

“Sort of,” Rufus admitted. “Annie will approach David to lower his guard. David is a formidable opponent. Bringing him into our fold weakens Maria’s power.”

Anderson approved. “A direct confrontation would be reckless. Your plan is sound.”

Annie entered Rufus’s training chamber and bowed.

Rufus, seated cross-legged on a mat, turned to her. “Annie, you leave for Paris immediately. Here’s a pouch with a photo and instructions. Follow them precisely.”

“Yes, Master,” Annie said, taking the pouch.

“Find the boy in the photo. Befriend him, make him trust you—romantically if necessary. You act alone; do not contact any local affiliates to avoid suspicion.”

“Yes, Master,” she bowed again and departed.

Then, the couple Rona and Case entered, bowing.

“Go to Lake Lucerne,” Rufus instructed. “Investigate Innkeeper Robert and his past grievances with Painter Huang. Report back; act according to the findings.”

“Understood, Master,” they said in unison, bowing before leaving.

Rufus faced the window, murmuring, “David… past grievances are behind us. If you’ve truly reincarnated, I do not wish to face you as a rival again.”

Lin Xiaoyang, with Huang Lihua’s film and slides, boarded a train to Paris. At the Musée d’Orsay, he met directors from the city’s three major public and private galleries.

He spread the albums and slides across the long table. “Please review. These are the lifetime works of a Chinese painter residing in Switzerland.”

Lewis, director of Musée d’Orsay, flipped through them, astonished. “Mr. Lin… all of this is by one person?”

“Yes. His name is Huang Lihua, currently residing in Switzerland.”

Champier, director of the Centre Pompidou, frowned. “Remarkable skill… sketches, prints, watercolors, oil paintings… but how can the signed dates span over eighty years?”

Lin smiled. “I regret I cannot answer that reasonably at this time.”

Destinee, director of the Louvre, interjected. “This talent is extraordinary, perhaps the most astonishing discovery of this century. We will need a few days to evaluate the collection.”

Lewis asked, “Where are the works housed now?”

“In a private hotel on Lake Lucerne,” Lin replied.

Champier noted the quantity might require multiple storage sites. Destinee suggested a dedicated museum. Lewis agreed, proposing joint funding. Lin promised to notify them once the works were organized. They would then dispatch personnel and vehicles for collection.

The weekend found Lin strolling along the Seine. At a riverside park, a bustling flea market drew crowds of treasure-seekers. Among street artists under the trees, one Chinese painter caught Xiaoyang’s eye. The long robe and backpack made him pause. Could it be Huang Lihua?

Quietly approaching, Xiaoyang tapped the man’s shoulder. “Hi… Master Lihua…”

The man turned, and Xiaoyang froze. “Sorry, I mistook you!” He was indeed not Huang—older, with gray hair and deep wrinkles—but wore the same style of clothing and glasses.

As Xiaoyang turned away, the man called out, “Young man, you know Huang Lihua?”

Xiaoyang nodded. “Yes… if not for him last month, I might have been in danger.”

“I am Qiu Shenzhi, from Shanghai,” the man said, pulling over a stool. “You say Master Lihua saved you?”

“Yes. I stayed at a strange Paradise Hotel near Lake Lucerne…”

Qiu looked incredulous. “Impossible. Huang Lihua was my teacher… decades dead. I arranged his funeral myself. How could you have seen him?”

Xiaoyang echoed the disbelief. “Really? Is that so?”

Qiu insisted. “If you don’t believe me, I can take you to his grave.”

Xiaoyang hesitated. “A grave? I just parted with him a few days ago… Could it be…?”

Confused by the contradictions, Xiaoyang thought: Huang told me he was killed at the hotel… yet he’s alive as a vampire, and Qiu insists he’s dead. What is really going on?

Qiu added, “His grave is behind that hotel garden. Once I’m free, I can take you there. I haven’t visited in years.”

“No, thank you. I have urgent matters to attend to. Farewell.” Xiaoyang departed.

Qiu watched him leave, suspicion stirring. He said he just parted with Huang… Unless Huang faked his death to deceive me, I must return and clarify this.

[Six] The Gentle Trap

As night fell, at the entrance of the Forgetting Forest, Wilson, dressed as a waiter, planted a sign in the grass. Written on the sign in German, French, and Italian were the words: “Hotel undergoing interior renovation, accommodation temporarily suspended.” Wilson unfolded a spring bed across the path, lying diagonally on it as a makeshift barricade, leisurely drinking a beer.

The Dragon Knight led a small squad of Imperial Guards, emerging in single file from the mural in Room 504. The Dragon Knight disguised himself as Robert, and each guard disguised themselves as waiters. They left Room 504 and began their mission to capture the malevolent spirit.

One waiter ascended to the fourth floor and came face to face with a waiter who looked exactly like him. He froze for a moment, but the other immediately moved like the wind, circling behind him and striking the back of his head. The waiter collapsed instantly, his body dragged into a room.

The Dragon Knight, now in Robert’s guise, approached the door of Robert’s bedroom. Using X-ray vision, he scanned the room and saw the real Robert bathing. The impostor Robert passed through the room using teleportation, invisibly entering the long mirror. The real Robert, wearing a bathrobe, emerged and shaved in front of the mirror. He immediately sensed something was wrong: his reflection in the mirror crossed its arms and sneered at him. He drew a sharp breath, stepped back, and trembling asked, “Who… who are you? Why do you torment an old man like this?”

The mirror’s doppelgänger jabbed a finger and scolded, “I am your conscience! Robert, you follow the Anderson Group in harming innocent humans, yet still refuse to confess?”

Upon hearing “Anderson Group,” Robert immediately understood that this visitor must be a master close to Princess Maria. He struck suddenly, punching the doppelgänger in the mirror. Strangely, the mirror didn’t shatter, yet his right hand penetrated halfway into the mirror and was grasped at the elbow by the mirror figure, causing half his body to go numb.

The doppelgänger’s eyes widened as he shouted, “Fiend! Even at death’s door, you still play tricks?”
“Please spare me! Have mercy!” the real Robert begged in terror.

The doppelgänger spoke sternly: “Crushing you is as easy as squashing an ant. If you want to live, abandon your darkness and turn to the light.”
“Yes! Yes! I am willing to abandon the darkness and serve the Princess,” Robert replied, knowing he had no other choice.

“Wise of you! Take this Dragon Blood Pill and come with me to see the Princess,” said the doppelgänger, extending a hand out of the mirror holding a crimson pill.

With his life at stake, Robert dared not hesitate and swallowed the pill.
“May I ask, brother, who are you…?” Robert asked cautiously.

The mirror doppelgänger then wiped its face with a hand, revealing its true form: a dragon-headed humanoid. Robert immediately recognized it as the legendary Dragon Knight.

Late at night, as Lin Xiaoyang slept drowsily, Huang Lihua appeared in his dream, standing at the bedside and speaking:
“Thank you for helping me establish a foundation to benefit many students. My granddaughter, Huang Minhua, will apply for the foundation’s scholarship. Next March, she will come to paint at Lake Lucerne and stay at Paradise Hotel.”

Xiaoyang asked, “I see… you want me to bring your granddaughter out of the hotel?”
Huang Lihua said, “No! I want you to return to Lake Lucerne and manage Paradise Hotel for me.”

Xiaoyang, shocked, asked, “No way? You want me to run a hotel full of vampires?”
Huang Lihua smiled: “Of course not! You will renovate the hotel, hire new staff, and reopen it for traveling artists. More importantly, you must take care of my granddaughter, Huang Minhua. Here are a savings account book and a travelers cheque; in the future, you will be the hotel owner and Minhua’s husband.”

Xiaoyang asked in disbelief, “But I’ve never met your granddaughter. How can I promise this?”
Huang Lihua said mysteriously: “Your fate with Minhua is predestined. You may have met her before without realizing it. By helping me, you help yourself. I will grant you some of my painting skills. After you wake, you can use these skills to catch her attention. Here’s a photo of Minhua; make a charcoal sketch of her. Once the hotel reopens, frame it at the entrance, and she will be curious to stay. Also, you’ll stay in Room 504. Do not touch the mural—it’s my entrance; I’ll come out during the day for leisure.”

Huang Lihua then lay on Xiaoyang briefly, recited a spell, and upon finishing, watched Xiaoyang sleep for a while before departing.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Xiaoyang slowly awoke, got out of bed, and saw a medium-sized kraft envelope on the desk by the window. Inside were a set of keys, a French ownership deed, a savings account book, a travelers cheque, and a half-body photograph of Huang Minhua. The girl in the photo had long flowing hair, graceful and charming, and seemed strangely familiar.

Xiaoyang recalled Huang Lihua’s instructions in his dream and murmured to the photo, “This girl… is she my future wife?” He gazed at the photo for a while, set it down, and walked to the bathroom to freshen up.

At the Louvre, which houses many modern and contemporary artworks and is a must-visit for tourists, Xiaoyang focused on an oil painting. Suddenly, he detected a familiar perfume. Looking up, he saw a blonde, fashionable lady less than ten feet away. Xiaoyang examined her profile: “Could this be Huijun?” Moving closer, he saw her face and thought, “It should be Huijun; the features are really similar…” Summoning courage, he asked in English, “Excuse me, are you from Taiwan?”

The lady looked at him calmly and said, “I understand Mandarin, sir.”

Xiaoyang thought, puzzled: “Sir? She seems completely unfamiliar with me, yet how can there be such a lookalike in the world, and the voice is exactly the same… except for the blonde hair.”

Xiaoyang apologized, “I’m sorry, I mistook you for an old friend…”
She smiled lightly: “Sir, I encounter this kind of approach often.”
Embarrassed, Xiaoyang said: “Sorry, I was mistaken.”
He took a few steps away but kept glancing back, quietly following her.

Annie walked along a busy shopping street, a designer handbag on her wrist. About ten paces behind, Xiaoyang, low under his cap, followed her. Suddenly, a tall Black youth brushed past and snatched her bag. Annie was dragged to the ground, and the youth ran toward Xiaoyang. Instinctively, Xiaoyang braced himself. The youth collided with him like hitting a steel pole, fell, and felt dizzy. Xiaoyang leapt forward, grabbed his collar with one hand, lifting him off the ground. Bystanders marveled at his strength.

Xiaoyang snatched the bag back and pushed the youth backward, sending him rolling twice on the ground, unconscious. The crowd applauded Xiaoyang’s bravery. Annie, witnessing this, smiled, thinking: “Yes, it’s him!”

Xiaoyang returned the bag to Annie. Grateful, she said: “Sir, how can I thank you?”
Xiaoyang, feigning casualness, said: “It’s nothing! Miss, are you alright?”
Annie brushed off the dust: “I’m fine. Can I invite you for a coffee?”

In the café, Xiaoyang and Annie sat across from each other, drinking coffee.
Annie said, “Thanks for earlier. I’m Annie.”
Xiaoyang: “You’re welcome. I’m Lin Xiaoyang.”
Annie knew he had followed her, but the street incident unexpectedly created an opportunity to deepen their interaction.

Curious, Annie asked, “From your moves, you’ve trained in Chinese martial arts?”
Xiaoyang smiled: “You noticed! I learned some Shaolin techniques from my grandfather.”
Annie asked, “Are you traveling in Paris?”
Xiaoyang: “I came for some business. And you? You’re not local?”
Annie: “I’m visiting Paris.”

“Annie, you really resemble an old friend of mine,” Xiaoyang said, handing her a photo of Xie Huijun.
Annie looked at it, flashes of fragmented memories appeared, but she couldn’t piece them together, thinking: “How is this possible…”

Xiaoyang noticed her odd expression and asked, “Annie, you’ve really never been to Taiwan?”
She shook her head. Xiaoyang felt slightly disappointed.

Annie asked, “The girl in the photo does resemble me; is she your girlfriend?”
Xiaoyang explained: “Yes, her name is Xie Huijun, from Taiwan, my university junior. We dated for over four years, but we quarreled, and she left Taiwan in anger, traveling to Europe. I’ve come to Europe to find her…”

Moved, Annie said: “I see. I trust fate will help you.”
Xiaoyang asked, “Annie, can I see you often?”
Annie returned the photo with a charming smile: “Of course! I travel constantly, so call me if you want to find me.” She handed him a bilingual business card: “This is my company.”

Xiaoyang: “You’re from Shanghai? Not far from Taipei.”
Annie: “Yes.”
Xiaoyang: “Once my business here settles, I’ll come to see you.”
Annie: “Alright.”