Zhou Qi’an fell silent. “On behalf of the village chief, thank you.”
Shen Zhiyi replied flatly, “A rose given leaves fragrance on the hand.”
As expected, the conversation died awkwardly again.
Zhou Qi’an glanced around. The skin monster hadn’t followed them out; it seemed Ying Yu and the female teacher had already taken care of it. Once that thing lost its disguise, it wasn’t much of a threat in a two-against-one fight.
Aside from the missing Little Red Riding Hood member, everyone involved in the sampling task had survived.
Now that the initial shock had passed, no one seemed particularly upset about Xu Gui’s deception. As long as the outcome was good, no one cared—players were all selfish, after all. As long as they weren’t the ones dying, it didn’t matter.
The only real question was whether the destruction of the altar would turn out to be a net gain or loss.
Zhou Qi’an remained calm. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s the staff.”
After all, their information had been insufficient.
They hadn’t even realized they’d married a rice cooker once—and now they couldn’t even determine the players’ real genders. Who else could they blame?
Blame themselves.
Suddenly, the system notification sound chimed, freezing everyone in place. Xu Gui also straightened up into a proper, ladylike posture.
“Main quest – Sampling complete.”
“Please report immediately to Lead Coordinator Miss Shen to process the holy water.”
The first villagers out of the church had been blown out by the explosion. Now the rest finally came stumbling out.
Feng Shui Village had hundreds of residents. Their masks were still in place, and bone fragments shaken loose by the church collapse continued to fall from their clothes.
“Back to the village,” Shen Zhiyi suddenly said, casting an indifferent glance in its direction.
His cold gaze seemed to pass over the green mountains and clear waters, looking far into the distance. After a moment, he added, “Our elegant Miss Shen should be returning soon.”
…
The mountain path was rugged and uneven. After the rain, mud had gathered in puddles, threatening to swallow a careless foot.
Miss Shen remained as nimble as ever today.
But that human-like face of hers was dark with anger.
After failing to find the missing villagers in the back hills, she had discovered a trail of chaotic footprints at the village gate and followed them—all the way to Yongxi Township.
From here to Yongxi Township, cars could only take them halfway. Players being sent in had to walk the rest—and so did she.
Thankfully, she had finally found the missing villagers.
Her legs were nearly broken from the trek.
“Just let me find out what this was all about—what kind of monkey business was this…”
A flash of cruelty crossed Miss Shen’s face, laced with a hint of fear.
When she had found the villagers, they had been nearly scared out of their minds.
Yongxi Township had no ghosts.
But these people carried them in their hearts.
Almost all of them had participated in the witch-burning trials of the past. Upon finding themselves in Yongxi Township again, their first thought was that they had angered the Holy Maiden—and the terror had driven them half mad.
“Don’t kill me… don’t kill me…”
To keep them from running wild—just like the minotaurs—Miss Shen had brought iron chains along, and could only drag the villagers back by force.
As their terrified muttering continued, she quietly considered why they had run to Yongxi Township.
“There must be someone in this batch of players with a mind-control skill.”
Miss Shen had seen such abilities before—but something about this felt off. What was certain was that the player who had led the villagers to Yongxi Township was the same one who’d made the child disappear temporarily.
A face surfaced in her mind—Shen Zhiyi’s—as he’d spoken of teaching the child to read.
“Damn him.” Miss Shen instantly imagined ten thousand ways to kill him.
But slowly…
Her expression changed.
Miss Shen was shocked to realize that every time she recalled that man’s face, his appearance subtly shifted.
From a refined, scholarly air… to something gradually colder… until it became chillingly lifeless. Like a funeral portrait standing alone in front of a spirit tablet—the features blurred, but the cold eyes grew sharper and clearer.
Through the barrier of memory, those eyes seemed to be staring directly at her.
“Ah!” Miss Shen paled and gasped in spite of herself.
The strange sensation vanished in a flash. It was as if she had been cursed—her mind helplessly returning to her original judgment: a player with a mind-control specialty.
The mountain wind blew. Miss Shen gripped the iron chain in her hand and urged the villagers to hurry.
Over hill and valley, the village appeared ahead—quietly nestled in the forested mountains.
When she saw the stone marker at the village entrance, Miss Shen let go of the chain and cursed under her breath—far from elegantly.
What kind of instance staff misplaced NPCs like this?
A faint scent of blood drifted on the air.
Miss Shen’s nose twitched; staff always had sharp senses for blood.
She guessed a player had died—and probably died horribly. Composing herself again, she smoothed the wrinkles in her clothing and gracefully stepped into the village.
“Holy Maiden! Forgive us, Holy Maiden…!”
Terrified pleas rang out ahead. The villagers were beginning to suspect that the church built by the priest had failed, and the Holy Maiden had reverted to her pre-purification, witch-like state.
They carried their injured kin, running chaotically and without order. Their skin had turned from snowy white to a ghastly pallor as they looked fearfully up at the sky and begged for mercy.
In the distance, strange mist rolled down from the back hills, mixed with black smoke that spread into the sky like a mushroom cloud.
“Ugh… ugh…” The village chief was apparently so angry he could hardly speak, barely forcing out a few syllables as he gestured with his hands.
The words “Holy Maiden” triggered fresh panic in the few villagers who had just been dragged back from Yongxi Township. They immediately screamed again, “The witch deserved to die—it had nothing to do with us… It was the township chief who wanted to kill you! Don’t kill me…!”
In an instant, the entire village could be described in just a few words—wounded, mad, and dead.
“Miss Shen!” Amid the panic, a completely different, clear voice sounded.
A young man came running excitedly against the wind, full of energy. Behind him, the villagers were scattering like frightened birds, still begging the Holy Maiden for forgiveness.
It was as if the two sides lived in entirely opposite worlds.
Amid this chaotic backdrop, Zhou Qi’an weaved his way through the crowd and ran all the way over.
“We succeeded in sampling the holy water!” His eyes sparkled like treasure had been found. “Please help us process it quickly!”
“…”
For half a minute, there was a dead silence as Miss Shen’s expression twisted.
At least three thousand times, she fought the urge to smash both the glass bottle and this young man’s head.
Miss Shen clenched her fists so tightly that the iron chain in her palm left deep marks.
She even suspected that he had run over so cheerfully, deliberately waving that fragile bottle right in her face just to provoke her.
If she destroyed a player’s quest item, they’d get compensated by the game system—but she would face terrible punishment.
“Th-thank you for your hard work,” Miss Shen squeezed out a stiff smile, her voice so sweet it could drip water. “Could you perhaps tell me what happened?”
Zhou Qi’an looked genuinely confused. “No idea.”
“The village chief led us through the second blessing ritual… then the church exploded.” He hesitated a moment and kindly suggested, “Maybe the chief should reflect on his mistakes.”
“…” Miss Shen was on the verge of losing control.
Such a huge incident—the ritual had clearly been ruined.
Her nerves had been stretched tight since the hot spring event. She’d been on the front lines during the sampling; now the exhaustion hit her like a wave.
Zhou Qi’an didn’t even wait for her to process the holy water before heading off again. As he left, he said to Kou Tuo, “Don’t forget to grab the stuff.”
The moment he turned away, the ease he’d shown Miss Shen vanished completely. Under the heavy, messy hair partially covering his face, tiredness lingered in his eyes.
The young girl frowned. “He went through all that trouble to get something so important… and then just tossed it to us like it was nothing?”
Kou Tuo said nothing, watching Zhou Qi’an’s departing figure.
When dealing with that man, you had to keep at least a hundred eyes open.
·
Zhou Qi’an headed straight for the courtyard without slowing.
Ever since he learned this had once been the Holy Maiden’s residence, he’d felt chills here even in broad daylight.
But that feeling was strangely pleasant.
He had been closest to the altar when it exploded, and the scorched pain on his skin still faintly throbbed.
Fortunately, the courtyard was cool—the discomfort eased a little.
A small bottle appeared in Zhou Qi’an’s hand. He had secretly kept a little of the potion they’d prepared for the villagers that morning. Now it could finally be put to use.
As he smoothly unbuttoned his shirt, he suddenly felt something and looked up.
It was Shen Zhiyi. He had followed him here and now stood outside the courtyard.
A chill wind blew in, puffing his shirt to reveal the faintly reddened skin beneath.
Shen Zhiyi naturally took the bottle from his hand. “I’ll do it.”
Without eyes on his back, he couldn’t see the condition of the wounds.
Zhou Qi’an didn’t refuse.
Maybe it was Shen Zhiyi’s gaze—deeper than usual, hiding something—but Zhou Qi’an didn’t remove the shirt completely.
He simply unbuttoned the front halfway, keeping the sleeves on, exposing his back down to his waist. This way, with a slight motion, the shirt could be slipped back on.
“Get on with it,” Zhou Qi’an urged softly.
Unaware that behind him, pale gray eyes tightened sharply, as if provoked even deeper.
Catching sight of Zhou Qi’an’s pale cheek from the corner of his eye, Shen Zhiyi’s gaze calmed slightly as old memories stirred.
There was a vast difference in strength between man and monster—but Zhou Qi’an had an innate resilience.
No matter how exhausted he was during their struggles, a meal and a nap were enough for him to wake full of energy again.
It had been the first time Shen Zhiyi realized just how strong the human species’ life force could be.
“Why did you give the holy water to someone else?”
As the potion soaked into his back, Zhou Qi’an spoke lazily, eyes half-closed. “The next step with the holy water is to find the cursed stake. It’s a necessary task—if I don’t do it, someone else will. So why not let Kou Tuo handle it?”
“…”
“Me? I need to rest well and think about the priest’s problem.”
Everyone said the priest was watching the village—you had to guard against him striking from the shadows.
Zhou Qi’an buttoned up, turned, and looked at Shen Zhiyi. “That’s what we call labor division.”
He would think. Others would act.
Shen Zhiyi’s field of knowledge was narrow and sharp—he could recite everything about monsters in great detail, but in other areas he was as blank as an open plain.
Still, he wasn’t illiterate.
“I remember… labor division is a fundamental denial of the exploitation system.”
Zhou Qi’an’s hair fluttered in the wind as he mumbled, “Is that so…?”
“…”
·
According to this principle of labor division, Zhou Qi’an returned to nap.
His dreams were shadowed by a dark figure—the silhouette that had appeared in the mist in the church, sometimes merging with Mu Tianbai’s face.
After Zhou Qi’an left, Shen Zhiyi glanced at the sky. The dead aura had thickened—a sign that the instance would soon enter its mutation stage.
Shen Zhiyi looked back down at his palm, finding his patience had grown.
Rules—apart from the game itself—were impossible for anyone to foresee, even legendary monsters.
But shortcuts existed. For example…
He could kill all of Zhou Qi’an’s teammates—and himself—essentially gifting himself an experience package.
But he hadn’t considered this for several days now.
“After living among humans for a while… do I finally have some shred of humanity?”
…
If Zhou Qi’an knew Shen Zhiyi called this ‘humanity,’ he’d definitely curse him for being an idiot.
Then he’d solemnly explain that someone with a 100% affection rating—like him—was the true definition of the term.
Unfortunately, he didn’t know.
He slept deeply for a long time, until the system prompt woke him:
[Clue Hint: Holy water processing complete.]
[Find the curse source as soon as possible. Use the purified holy water to dispel the curse, and return Fengshui Village to clear skies and blue waters.]
“…Screw you…” Zhou Qi’an grumbled and turned over to sleep some more.
When he awoke, dusk had fallen outside.
Rarely did Fengshui Village have such a proper sunset—usually, twilight slipped past quickly and darkness fell without pause.
But today’s dusk lingered unusually, wrapping the entire mountain—including the village—in a strange orange glow.
The players hurried back in the last light before sunset.
Mushrooms roasted in the courtyard.
Zhou Qi’an was already awake, waving them over enthusiastically. “You’re back! Come eat!”
The young girl came over first, happily sucking the moisture from a mushroom and gratefully saying, “Thanks.”
Then she frowned, sensing something was off. He looked too refreshed—hair slightly messy, sleepy eyes—clearly he’d just woken from a nap.
Everyone fell silent at once.
Had this guy really just been lazing around the whole time they’d been working themselves to death?
Zhou Qi’an asked at the perfect moment, “Did you find the stake?”
Kou Tuo replied coolly, “There’s a lead, but not enough info. We need to trigger a side quest.”
Zhou Qi’an: “Good luck, then.”
“…”
Miss Shen was still inspecting the altar in the church, while the players’ conversation shifted to serious matters—the cause of the Little Red Riding Hood member’s death.
He’d died too quietly. As a seasoned player, he should’ve struggled—but there wasn’t a drop of blood near the hot spring.
Unless… he’d triggered a death rule, leaving him no chance to resist.
They carefully reviewed everything the Little Red Riding Hood member had done that day and came up with a few oddities:
Kou Tuo said that late at night, the Little Red Riding Hood member had gone to the yard to pee—right by a tree, not the latrine.
The young girl added that on the way to the hot spring, he’d accidentally stepped in animal droppings. She’d secretly smeared some filth on her hair then, too.
Lastly, when they first reached the hot spring, the village chief had suddenly appeared and spoken—the Little Red Riding Hood member had instinctively pushed him, but quickly pulled him back, and everyone had seen the moment.
Still, no one could tell which of these actions had sealed his fate.
Kou Tuo concluded, “In any case, we’d better avoid doing any of these things.”
Dinner was quick; they ate hastily and decided to split up and explore.
The villagers were still cleaning up the explosion’s aftermath. It wasn’t too late yet—the danger level remained low for now. They had to seize this time to trigger side quests and gather intel.
“Want to check the church?” Ying Yu unexpectedly asked Shen Zhiyi.
The altar’s destruction had surely angered the Holy Maiden. That area was now extremely dangerous.
But they had to confirm whether the cursed stake was there.
Shen Zhiyi glanced at the unusually long-lasting sunset in the sky—and didn’t refuse.
When a instance began to mutate deeply, the weather was often the most direct sign—especially the dense black specks hidden behind the sunset.
Before heading out, Shen Zhiyi had said to Zhou Qi’an, “Beware of wandering spirits.”
Zhou Qi’an nodded. Shen Zhiyi had mentioned when they entered the instance that there might be spatial distortions here.
Everyone split up to handle their own tasks.
Zhou Qi’an didn’t join the team exploring the church.
With Shen Zhiyi and Ying Yu there, an extra person would make no real difference.
Five minutes later, Zhou Qi’an was wandering the village alone.
Each household in Feng Shui Village stood at some distance from the next. He mostly followed the water channel. The ripples in the flowing water looked like human pores, possessing a kind of breathing function—but each inhalation and exhalation exchanged something different.
Staring at it too long made one dizzy.
“Tch.”
Circling along the water channel for nearly one and a half laps around the village, Zhou Qi’an paused in thought for two seconds, as if realizing something.
He picked a nearby large tree and climbed up with both hands and feet.
A venomous snake that had been lurking there for a long time suddenly lashed out with its tongue, launching a sneak attack—but Zhou Qi’an casually caught it and flung it aside.
“What the hell? Not even as scary as one of my mom’s hair strands.”
He climbed to the highest point. In the distance, the white spire of the church peeked above the treetops, and most of Fengshui Village lay beneath him like a compressed, flattened map.
Standing on a thick branch, Zhou Qi’an stared for a long while, his eyes narrowing slowly. “So that’s how it is.”
All the water channels passed through the village chief’s house in the west—as if that was their true source.
The thing that puzzled him most in this entire instance… was also that village chief.
From certain details, Zhou Qi’an could tell that the chief’s fear of the Holy Maiden far outweighed any respect he had for her—possibly even mixed with a touch of loathing.
Take the Holy Maiden’s old residence, for example. Overgrown with weeds—if he truly revered her, he’d have kept it maintained.
“Old and cunning. If this old man is so terrified of the Holy Maiden, why help her reincarnate?”
Zhou Qi’an jumped down from the tree and slowly paced, feeling like a thought was starting to take shape—but something was still missing.
As he pondered, the sky darkened noticeably.
In an instant, the scenery of the entire village seemed to change dramatically—the oppressive, uncomfortable silence returned once more.
Instinctively, Zhou Qi’an wanted to head back—but when he looked up, he realized he had somehow wandered to the village chief’s house without noticing. The charred walls still gave off a foul stench.
He remembered the three possible death conditions the Little Red Riding Hood member might have triggered.
When he’d heard them, he’d already ruled out the first two.
Using the bathroom outside the latrine—no way only the Little Red Riding Hood guy had done that. Kou Tuo’s expression had been odd when he’d mentioned it—likely he’d done the same.
After all, the latrine was far from the brick houses. In the dead of night, who wouldn’t take the nearer option?
As for the second—dirtying the hair—the young girl had even done that on purpose and was fine.
“Because he pushed the village chief?”
Zhou Qi’an tried to recall the scene by the hot spring, mimicking the Little Red Riding Hood member’s push-pull motion.
He’d kicked the village chief, hit him, even poisoned him—and nothing had happened. Why would that light shove kill the other guy?
But when his fingers brushed the wall, Zhou Qi’an’s expression suddenly shifted.
Had the Little Red Riding Hood member pushed… the tumor on the chief’s back?
And triggered a “buff” by actively reaching out?
Unfortunately, the mist had been too thick—he hadn’t seen clearly.
“The Holy Maiden wants to reincarnate using an outsider’s body… but what about the priest?” Zhou Qi’an frowned. “The clues about the priest mention an umbilical cord—a key word. That also points to reincarnation.”
“Do not touch the priest—that’s a transgression. You’ll die.
Do not cut the priest’s umbilical cord—that’s forbidden…”
He swallowed hard as a horrifying thought formed.
The priest—
—was growing inside the chief’s tumor.
The village chief was under his control, forced to brainwash the people of Fengshui Village over and over for years.
Looking back, the tumor had been steadily growing—like a pregnant woman’s belly. The chief’s back had become more hunched day by day.
The moment this idea took shape, Zhou Qi’an felt a chill creep up his spine—growing stronger and stronger until it seemed to sink into his very bones.
The pitch-black courtyard wall radiated extreme malice. He immediately turned to leave.
“Esteemed expert…” A raspy, twisted voice suddenly came from behind him.
The village chief had appeared without a sound. “A villager told me you have medicine.” Compared to usual, his bellows-like voice now carried a strangely childish tone.
Zhou Qi’an froze on the spot.
There were three pieces of information about the priest. One more rule stated:
Do not make eye contact with the priest—that is disrespectful. You’ll die.
He forced himself to stay calm.
Many people had noticed the chief’s tumor—but none had been harmed. The condition must be: Do not see the true form of the priest growing in the chief’s tumor.
After all, its real shape was always hidden beneath the chief’s clothing.
“Expert…” With every word, the village chief stepped closer. In the blink of an eye, only half a meter separated them.
A cold hand patted lightly on Zhou Qi’an’s thin shoulder. There was a faint urgency in the chief’s voice—as if urging Zhou Qi’an to turn around.
When he glimpsed that hand, Zhou Qi’an’s expression changed slightly.
But he stood perfectly still, thin lips pressed into a tight line.
Bastard—don’t even dream of tricking me into looking at you!
Author’s Note:
Zhou Qi’an: I stayed obediently in the village, so I could stroll, rest, and calmly think about the instance.
The Priest: Here I come.
