When others enter a rules-based horror game, they tremble in fear, obey the rules, and get chased by monsters.
When Lin Wange enters one, she pulls out an embroidery needle and stares at the landlord. “That skin of yours looks nice. Want me to embroider a flower on it?”
The landlord flies into a rage. Its hair surges wildly, and the doors shake like thunder.
Lin Wange makes one stitch. A phoenix opens its eyes, and the whole building trembles three times.
The next day, a note is slipped under her door:
“Ms. Lin, the coffin downstairs would also like some embroidery. The price is negotiable.”
Later, the entire world of strange tales goes mad. Monsters line up to request embroidered works, and she rewrites the rules into an “Intangible Cultural Heritage Exhibition Zone.”
The Fateweavers come knocking. “You’ve broken the rules!”
Lin Wange bites off the thread and smiles faintly.
“By my rules, I am the rules.”
