Chapter Three: Princess Maria

7
Night was deep and heavy. The sky castle of the dark world stood atop the endless black mist, proud and mysterious. Inside the palace’s great hall, eternal candlelight flickered between enormous stone pillars, casting shadows over the intricate reliefs carved into the walls. Princess Maria sat upright on the sandalwood throne, her long gown trailing to the ground, her black hair falling like silk over her shoulders. Her features were exquisitely sculpted, as if carved by an artist, yet carried a trace of unapproachable, cold elegance.

In front of her, the dragon knight stood straight, arms crossed over his chest, his steady gaze scanning the two people who had just entered the hall.

Huang Lihua and Wilson walked to the center of the hall, bowed with hands clasped, and performed a standard court etiquette.

“Greetings, Your Highness.”

Maria nodded lightly, her eyes glimmering faintly like starlight.

Huang Lihua straightened and spoke in a deep voice: “Princess, Lin Xiaoyang has arrived at the hotel.”

Upon hearing this, the corners of Maria’s mouth lifted slightly, a smile that was neither full nor empty, and she said: “Very well. We will follow the original plan. Take control of the Hotel of Paradise and use it as a headquarters. Make sure Anderson suspects nothing.”

Wilson furrowed his brows, asking firmly: “Princess, why not simply eliminate Robert and his men? We will inevitably confront Anderson sooner or later. Isn’t this a waste of time?”

The dragon knight, who had remained silent until now, spoke in a low and measured tone, firm yet calm: “Eliminating Robert is easy, but that could draw Anderson’s attention. The princess prefers to subdue him through loyalty rather than by force.”

Wilson thought for a moment, then nodded slightly, speaking respectfully: “I see, the princess has anticipated everything.”

Maria’s gaze slowly swept over the group, and then she spoke softly: “My agent infiltrating the Bat City has reported news to me. They have found a girl named Xie Huijun. Anderson is keeping her close.”

Huang Lihua’s pupils constricted slightly. Surprised, he blurted out: “That means this girl is doomed to…”

Maria’s eyes were deep, as if seeing through the interweaving of fate. Her tone was calm but carried a certain firmness: “All of this is written by destiny. Otherwise, Lin Xiaoyang and your granddaughter, Huang Minhua, would never have met. Just follow the plan.”

A trace of realization passed through Huang Lihua’s eyes. He drew a deep breath and said solemnly: “I understand, Princess. We take our leave.”

He and Wilson bowed once more and then turned to leave. As their footsteps faded, the hall returned to a stifling silence. Maria remained seated on the throne, her fingertips tapping lightly on the armrest, a meaningful smile playing on her lips.

8
At dusk, the sky was calm like a lake, and the twilight gradually colored the glass windows. Lin Xiaoyang stepped into the lake-facing grand hall on the first floor of the hotel. The air carried a faint scent of coffee and the lingering passage of time. The wall lamps cast warm yellow light, reflecting the luster of the mahogany furniture, and in the corner of the hall, a figure was outlined—Huang Lihua, head bowed in thought, fingers lightly tapping the table, as if waiting for something.

Xiaoyang passed the vending machine, grabbed two cups of hot coffee, and walked toward him. The cup lids trembled lightly, releasing curling steam.

“Huang Lihua, it’s good to see you again,” Xiaoyang said with a smile, placing one of the cups in front of him.

Huang Lihua looked up, a complex expression in his eyes. He took the coffee and said softly: “Thanks.”

Xiaoyang pulled out a chair and sat down. His fingers traced the rim of the cup as he began: “Last night… it felt like I had a strange dream.”

Before he finished speaking, a low murmur came from the reception desk. A waiter glanced in their direction, then leaned toward Manager Robert, whispering in his ear. Robert’s expression shifted slightly, and he lowered his head to dial the internal line.

Huang Lihua sipped his coffee lightly, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable warning: “Young man, I came specifically to warn you.”

Xiaoyang furrowed his brows, a sense of unease rising: “Warn me about what?”

Huang Lihua did not answer immediately. He put down his cup and slowly asked: “What is today’s date?”

Xiaoyang looked at his watch: “April 13, Friday.”

Huang Lihua’s fingers trembled slightly. His eyes seemed to fall into the depths of some distant memory. He said softly: “Tonight, you cannot stay overnight.”

Xiaoyang froze, his hand holding the coffee stopping mid-air: “Why?”

“Because…” Huang Lihua’s expression suddenly darkened. He abruptly lowered his head, pressing close to the table, and his fingers trembled as he pointed behind him.

Xiaoyang’s heartbeat accelerated. Following the gesture, he turned—four tall, burly white men had entered the hall. They wore clean white medical uniforms, and one of them held a heavy long-sleeved white straitjacket—the protective gear used in psychiatric hospitals.

The air instantly grew tense. Xiaoyang’s throat went dry, and he unconsciously gripped his coffee cup tightly.

Huang Lihua lowered his voice, speaking rapidly: “Do you remember the date signed on that mural?”

“Yes… April 13, 1925,” Xiaoyang replied without hesitation.

A shadow passed through Huang Lihua’s eyes: “That night… I was attacked.”

Xiaoyang’s pupils constricted: “What? You say you were attacked? But you are clearly still alive…”

“No time to explain!” Huang Lihua quickly stretched out his hand. “Hurry, write your name and today’s date in my palm!”

Xiaoyang’s heartbeat almost drowned out all external sound, but his instinct told him—this was far stranger than he imagined. He bit his lip, quickly took a pen from his pocket, and wrote a line of text in Huang Lihua’s palm.

Huang Lihua drew a deep breath, giving instructions swiftly: “Now, go to the front desk to check out, and leave before sunset! Do not stay overnight! If you want to see me again, return tomorrow and find me in the statue garden outside the hall. Then, look at the words in my palm, and you will understand everything.”

“But—”

“Remember! Pretend you don’t know me later. No matter what happens, do not show any unusual expression. I will not harm you.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the four white men closed in. Three of them moved swiftly, pinning Huang Lihua down onto the table. The chair toppled, clattering loudly.

“Let me go!” Huang Lihua struggled in anger, but his hands were quickly bound behind his back, and the straitjacket was put on.

One of the white men turned to Xiaoyang, wearing a professional smile, and said in German: “Excuse me, sir, this Chinese man is mentally unstable. We need to return him to the asylum. I hope we did not disturb you.”

Xiaoyang’s heart pounded violently. Forcing himself calm, he managed a strained smile: “No problem, you may continue.”

His gaze followed the four burly men, watching Huang Lihua being pushed and dragged out of the hall. Huang Lihua turned his head, eyes deep, lips slightly parted, as if he still wanted to say something… but he was already pressed down violently and disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Xiaoyang felt a chill run through his body, as if an invisible hand were crawling up from the back of his neck, pressing directly against his scalp.

He spun around and ran frantically back to the room, trembling as he approached the mural, his eyes searching quickly—when his gaze landed on the lower left corner, among the group of gentlemen, he saw Huang Lihua!

And Huang Lihua’s eyeballs… were slowly moving!

Fear instantly turned into a tidal wave, sweeping away Xiaoyang’s rationality. He shook as he packed his luggage, almost charging out of the room by sheer force.

In the hall, Robert watched him head toward the front desk, a faint smile curving the corners of his mouth.

Xiaoyang paid, checked out, and ran hysterically out of the hotel, heading straight for the parking lot. He threw his luggage onto the front passenger seat, trembling as he started the engine, pressed the accelerator, and sped away from the eerie "Hotel of Paradise" and the forbidden area known as the "Forest of Oblivion."

As the car drove out of the mahogany forest, he looked back—

The entire forest had already been swallowed by thick mountain mist, transformed into a ghostly, shadowed realm.

9
The car slowly drove into a small restaurant parking lot beside the lakeside road. Surrounding trees cast green shade, the lake surface was like a mirror, and occasionally a few waterbirds skimmed across it. Lin Xiaoyang opened the car door and walked toward the restaurant, his steps heavy, as if his mind were still stuck in a moment from dusk.

Inside the restaurant, the air was filled with the aroma of toasted bread and coffee. Warm light reflected off the wooden tables and chairs, creating a quiet and comfortable atmosphere. Xiaoyang walked to the counter to order a set meal, then casually chose a corner to sit.

Just as he took his phone from his bag to check emails, the silence was broken by the sound of light footsteps. Wilson appeared at the restaurant door, holding a steaming cup of coffee, walking leisurely toward Xiaoyang. Wilson wore a dark suit, his tie loosened casually, giving an air of relaxed informality. He smiled faintly, his gaze carrying a hint of amusement and expectation.

“Pleased to see you again,” Wilson said, sitting down without ceremony, placing the coffee on the table with smooth and natural movements.

Xiaoyang looked up and smiled faintly, setting down his phone. “Why are you here?” His low voice carried a trace of question, and he unconsciously leaned back slightly, arms crossed over his chest, showing some defensiveness.

Wilson looked at him but did not seem concerned by Xiaoyang’s wariness. “Why did you leave the hotel?” His expression grew serious, and concern was evident in his tone.

Xiaoyang did not answer immediately but countered with a question. He gazed thoughtfully for a moment, corners of his mouth slightly upturned: “I met Huang Lihua yesterday; things happened during that time.” His tone was somewhat low, and images of the unpleasant events from moments ago flashed in his mind.

Wilson frowned, paused, then slowly put down the coffee cup, leaning forward slightly, eyes sharper: “What happened? Tell me.” His slight forward lean and body language showed keen interest in Xiaoyang’s story.

Xiaoyang sighed, his gaze momentarily distant. He unconsciously traced the edge of the cup, as if debating whether to continue speaking. “So you speak Chinese,” he said with a wry smile, a flash of helplessness in his eyes. “Huang Lihua told me I had to leave tonight, otherwise I would be in danger. He warned me just before being taken away by the hotel guards.” He paused, sighed again, brows furrowed, as if thinking about what to say next.

Wilson’s expression shifted slightly. His brows knitted, revealing a trace of surprise and alertness. “Wow! I understand now. The hotel is not safe, and the people inside…” He spoke in a low voice, his eyes unconsciously scanning outside the window.

Xiaoyang, a little nervous, lowered his head, hands clasped lightly on the table. “Do you know anything about this hotel?” His voice was urgent, eyes watchful, fixed on Wilson.

Wilson took a deep breath, looked up at Xiaoyang, eyes complex: “I know something about this hotel. It could be in danger now.” He looked directly at Xiaoyang, a subtle, unspeakable worry in his gaze.

Xiaoyang’s expression instantly tightened. His hands clenched slightly, voice low: “We must help him get out of danger. I think this hotel is very strange.” His tone was firm, eyes full of determination, as if he had already made up his mind.

Wilson gently patted Xiaoyang on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile: “Don’t worry. I will handle this.” His voice was calm, yet carried a persuasive authority.

Xiaoyang nodded. Although his face still showed some anxiety, a glimmer of trust appeared in his eyes. They stared at each other silently, the atmosphere becoming calm yet resolute.