Dimensional Hotel-Chapter 249: Clues

The tattered cloth seemed caught between two worlds.

Yu Sheng wasn’t sure why he had this thought, yet the moment he saw the scrap fluttering at the corner—half-real and half-illusory—the idea surfaced clearly in his mind.

The other end of the cloth didn’t feel firmly attached, and when he tugged it, there wasn’t much resistance. He drew it fully into “this side,” and the fabric immediately solidified, its vague edges sharpening into clarity. At that same instant, the swirling wind inside the room briefly intensified, but only for a moment before returning to its original calm.

[Did my pulling it through somehow strengthen the connection between the two sides? Or was the wind on the “other side” simply stronger at that exact moment?]

Thoughts churned swiftly through Yu Sheng’s mind as his eyes settled on the ragged piece of cloth.

It appeared to have been torn from a much larger fabric, the edges uneven and frayed. The material itself was exceptionally soft and lightweight, yet strong enough that considerable force must have been needed to tear it—an indication of remarkable craftsmanship.

Yu Sheng turned the cloth over, revealing intricate patterns dyed onto its reverse side. Pale golden designs gleamed like elegant script, arranged artistically against the deep-blue background, radiating a mysterious aura.

After examining it for a short while, Yu Sheng took out his phone and opened the photo he’d previously taken of the mysterious “metal lump.” He zoomed in, comparing its engraved runes to the patterns on the cloth.

[They seem somewhat similar…but I’m no expert.]

At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed from down the hallway, accompanied by the loud chatter of a certain Doll:

“Hey! Why’d he just use a Door and vanish like that? We had to run all the way to the platform just to open a Teleportation Door… Move your tail! You’re blocking my face… Wait, why’s it suddenly so cold? Did the heating break down, or maybe someone left the win—Ouch, what the heck?!”

Yu Sheng turned his head just as Foxy appeared at the door. Irene, all 66.6 centimeters of her, burst out from between Foxy’s tail and skirt like a tiny rocket. Completely oblivious to the icy conditions, she immediately slipped on the floor, sliding straight into the opposite wall. The resulting “smack” echoed sharply throughout the room.

A moment later, Irene picked herself up, inhaled deeply, and began unleashing a torrent of colorful complaints—transforming Wutong Road No. 66 into a symphony of imaginative curses.

Yu Sheng casually walked over, grabbed Irene by her collar, and lifted her into the air, instantly quieting her down.

“What the heck happened here?!” Irene sputtered, dangling in mid-air. “This is way more messed up than last time! A blizzard indoors? Are we living outdoors now—ugh!”

The little Doll shivered, noticing the Mirror nearby. “Cold, cold, cold! Yu Sheng, you need to buy me two down jackets…”

“Where am I supposed to find down jackets for a 66-centimeter-tall Doll?” Yu Sheng shot her a glare. “And aren’t you a Doll anyway? Can you even feel the cold?”

“What, just because I don’t die easily means I’m not allowed to feel cold?” Irene squirmed. “I might be durable, but I’m not frost-proof! Ah—thanks, dumb Fox!”

A wisp of ghostly-blue Fox Fire drifted over, circling Irene and quickly dispelling the chill around her. Foxy herself was encircled by even more ghostly flames, her eyes scanning the room carefully as she retorted without hesitation, “I’m not dumb. You’re much dumber.”

Before Irene could fire back, Yu Sheng raised his other hand, holding the piece of torn cloth aloft. “This is what I found earlier, fluttering by the wall. It felt like it was suspended between two worlds. I compared it with that metal lump from the photo earlier—they have some similar patterns.”

Instantly distracted, Irene grabbed the cloth and started examining it closely—although, of course, she understood none of it.

“The Special Affairs Bureau still hasn’t gotten back to us about the metal lump,” the Doll muttered, annoyed. “Now we’ve got another weird rag. Are we handing this one over too? They don’t seem too reliable…”

“But who else can we trust with this?” Yu Sheng shook his head helplessly. “We can’t exactly take it to some random antiques scammer on the street. Besides, these kinds of mysterious artifacts aren’t something you figure out overnight. It’s normal they haven’t gotten back yet. Eventually, we’ll have to let them check this as well—maybe together with the metal lump they’ll get some clues.”

Irene responded with a drawn-out “Ohhh,” clearly skeptical.

Meanwhile, Foxy stepped closer, staring intently at the Mirror that displayed the snowy cave, her expression gradually growing serious.

“Dumb Fox, what’re you staring at?” Irene looked up, curious. “Is there something weird in the Mirror?”

Foxy’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied the image. Eventually, she pointed at something inside the reflected cave. “Benefactor, are those footprints?”

“Footprints?” Yu Sheng was startled and hurried over. “Where?”

“There,” Foxy said gravely, pointing into the Mirror. “Near that large rock. The snow around it looks disturbed—those seem to be footprints, and it looks like someone cleared away snow. I think someone’s been there.”

Yu Sheng had overlooked those faint details until the Fox Girl gently drew his attention to them.

There were shallow footprints and melted snow near the mouth of the cave, almost faded into nothing by the passing of time—but without doubt, they were left by a person, and recently at that.

“…Someone’s been moving around over there. Someone visited not long ago,” Irene murmured thoughtfully, eyes flicking from the Mirror to the torn fabric in Yu Sheng’s hand. “This cloth, that weird chunk of metal from before… Just what kind of place is that cave? Does someone come periodically to throw stuff inside?”

Yu Sheng had no answer.

At that moment, the wind and snow whirling through the room quickly faded away.

The chill retreated; the snowflakes that had emerged magically through walls now brushed past his face like faint illusions. A thin fog drifted across the Mirror, obscuring the image within—and soon afterward, both mist and scene disappeared entirely, leaving behind a calm, ordinary mirror.

“…Benefactor, the blizzard on the other side has ceased,” Foxy whispered softly.

Yu Sheng glanced toward the corner of the room. Snowflakes piled there vanished into nothingness, yet the piece of cloth in his hand—like the mysterious metal component before—remained unchanged.

“The connection’s been severed,” Yu Sheng said thoughtfully. Remembering the last time this strange event had occurred, he furrowed his brow. “Could it be… that when a blizzard blows over there, the link between worlds opens up?”

No one could answer him.

Yu Sheng carefully exited the room with Foxy and the Doll, meticulously locking the door once more.

“I’ll need to buy a camera to set up in that room, pointed directly at the Mirror,” he muttered from the doorway. “The type that stores footage in the cloud, so I can review it later.”

“You’d better get a few, actually. Cover every angle,” Irene said as she deftly climbed onto Yu Sheng’s shoulder. “I suspect that more than just the Mirror changes when the connection activates. Did you notice? The snowflakes were blowing directly through the walls and ceiling. But, honestly… even if we install cameras, we might not capture anything useful.”

“Better to have them than not.”

Yu Sheng murmured this and returned to his room. Carefully, he spread the fabric he’d pulled through from the other side across the bed, placed it pattern-side-up, and snapped several photos with his phone.

“Do you think Bai Li Qing would—”

Yu Sheng had barely begun speaking when Irene poked his head sharply. “Are you human or not? It’s four in the morning—she’s obviously asleep! If you have to torment someone, pick another victim!”

“Ah, fair enough. Her resentment was palpable last time,” Yu Sheng conceded after a brief pause, then turned instead to open the Frontier Communications app. Navigating to the “Strange Object Exchange” board, he created a new post, just as he’d done last time:

“I found another strange object, again from the mysterious snowy room described in my last post. It’s a damaged strip of fabric, dimensions are… and it has a distinctive pattern. For context, check my previous thread.”

His reasoning was straightforward. Since nobody recognized the strange items immediately, and the Special Affairs Bureau always took too long to respond, he might as well cast a wide net. Posting online cost him nothing, and who knew when an Eminent One might appear?

Unfortunately, even Eminent Ones slept at four in the morning.

After nearly half an hour, his post didn’t receive a single click.

As Yu Sheng felt sleep creeping in, he laid back onto the bed. But just as he closed his eyes, his phone vibrated urgently.

Foxy, who had been halfway out the door, swiftly pivoted and returned, staring wide-eyed at the phone. She carefully read the text before nodding at Yu Sheng. “Benefactor, someone replied. Their username is ‘Three Thousand Wicked Disciples.’”

“Well, that was fast…” Yu Sheng reached for his phone, then stopped abruptly and stared at Fox Girl in shock. “Wait a minute. You can read these words now?!”

“Yes,” Foxy replied simply, nodding once more. “I recognize most daily words.”

Yu Sheng stared blankly at her. “When exactly did you learn?!”

Foxy held up the old phone Yu Sheng had given her earlier. “While playing around with this. I also learned a lot watching Irene argue online.”

Yu Sheng was completely stunned. “You… I was planning on properly teaching you once this Fairy Tale business settled down. Isn’t your learning ability a bit too extraordinary?!”

Foxy just smiled bashfully, scratching her head.

Yu Sheng shifted his gaze toward Irene, who was currently staring blankly into space.

The intellectual black hole of Wutong Road No. 66 had no idea what was happening, merely meeting Yu Sheng’s gaze with wide, clear eyes. “Hm?”

Yu Sheng affectionately patted the little doll’s head. “Nothing, carry on.”

“Okay.”

Yu Sheng finally opened the message from “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples.” It had been quite a while since he’d heard from this mysterious user—since their last brief interaction.

This time, the user sent only one image:

Another scrap of cloth, bearing a pattern identical to the one in Yu Sheng’s hand.

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation