Chapter 118: “Maybe I just like special people.”
Zhou Yijue’s final piece of information hit the nerve of An Wujiu’s most concerning issue regarding the numbers.
“Could it be that the numbers on the back of our hands represent the model we were initialized in?” An Wujiu said, but then he wanted to deny himself. If this were true, then everyone here would be number 98, including Wu You and Nan Shan, who had been in the same field with him several times. Would that not make him an outsider intruding into other models?
Zhou Yijue pondered for a moment, “When I noticed that everyone had numbers appearing on their hands, I thought about this. Given such a coincidence, we can’t ignore this direction of thought.”
After he finished speaking, he glanced at the floating timer and said to the two of them, “Time is short. That’s all I have to say. You can rest assured that I share my information to achieve my own goals, so you need not doubt a word I say.”
Having said that, Zhou Yijue opened the door and intended to return to his room.
Hearing him mention information sharing, An Wujiu hesitated but decided to share some useful information with Zhou Yijue.
In addition to telling him that everything here was not merely about technology and involved some unknown power, he also revealed the contents of the Human Revolution Plan to Zhou Yijue.
“The Altar is not just a simple game, as you have noticed. It may literally be an altar,” An Wujiu said in a low voice.
Zhou Yijue was silent for a moment, nodded, and as he walked down the corridor, he muttered to himself, “To investigate further, we need to go to Sha Wen.”
After he left, Shen Ti put his arm around An Wujiu’s shoulder and said, “This time, he doesn’t seem to be lying.”
“I think so too,” An Wujiu replied softly, “If Zhou Yijue keeps smiling, it means he is fooling others.”
Once he stops smiling and shows other emotions, that’s the real him.
An Wujiu thought that Zhou Yijue had rushed to tell him this information not only because the numbers appeared on everyone’s hands during the ritual but also because he knew that tonight he might be the one to die. If he didn’t speak up now, he wouldn’t have another chance in this game.
“You should go rest,” An Wujiu said, letting Shen Ti walk him to the door. He turned around, leaning against the door, and smiled at him.
But Shen Ti did not turn to leave. Instead, he opened his arms and hugged him.
An Wujiu kissed Shen Ti’s collarbone, buried his head in his shoulder, and rubbed, then sighed deeply.
“I know you’re tired,” Shen Ti said softly, gently stroking An Wujiu’s back, “No matter what happens, I will stay with you.”
An Wujiu nodded in his arms, knowing this was more than just a promise.
Shen Ti had always been like this.
Finally, An Wujiu lifted his head and gave Shen Ti a kiss on the lips, timing it perfectly. By the time he returned to his room alone, his vision was completely gone.
Unable to see, An Wujiu did not draw the last card.
According to the day’s discussion, the only ordinary wolf left was Megan. Tonight, it would be difficult for her to target him for killing. The good camp had lost the seer and the witch, so she would certainly go after the claimed gravekeeper.
Before long, the bloody arrow appeared in front of An Wujiu’s eyes again, pointing in the direction he should go.
But An Wujiu didn’t bother to verify. For him, there was no need to verify Matsubara Morina. Since Andrew was a good person, Matsubara could only be a wolf.
Moreover, An Wujiu did not want to go through another dark verification process, so he felt his way to the bed, laid down, and closed his eyes.
This instance felt longer and more surreal than previous games, filled with eerie religious undertones, both real and fake. Coupled with gradually recovering memories, many things remained unclear.
As soon as he closed his eyes, those memories resurfaced. An Wujiu suddenly realized something strange. If he was truly regaining his memories naturally, why couldn’t he remember anything about the Altar? These memories seemed to be deliberately arranged, restored at specific nodes.
For example, in this game, he could conveniently recall events from his childhood and teenage years.
This all felt too “man-made.”
If someone had intentionally erased his memories, what would be their goal?
An Wujiu tried to put himself in that person’s shoes.
Without memories, he wouldn’t remember the terrible things that happened during his childhood, wouldn’t recall the scene of his father’s death in front of him, nor the operations of the experiments and the tortures he had endured.
Admittedly, most of the memories he had were brutal and better forgotten.
Seen this way, the purpose seemed to be well-intentioned, trying to let him live a more “normal” life. Reflecting on Yang Ming and the mismatched man in this instance, they both seemed particularly fearful, having interacted with his pre-amnesia self.
An Wujiu couldn’t think of anyone who would treat him so kindly, going so far as to erase his original memories and implant new, peaceful ones, just to let him live well.
The only people he could think of were those “scientists” who saw him as a research subject.
Maybe they did this just to create a control group for comparison. To them, he was merely one among a vast data set, albeit a unique one.
Or perhaps, one of many sacrificial offerings.
Perhaps because he gradually accepted his fate, An Wujiu’s heart suddenly calmed down. He stopped thinking about the past and stopped wondering why the evil god chose his family in particular.
So it seemed that heaven let him off slightly for a night, allowing him a dreamless sleep, peacefully until dawn.
When he opened his eyes again, his vision had returned. It had snowed another night outside, so white it was blinding.
“Good morning, players.”
The holy voice broke the quiet morning.
“Today is the day of the festival held in Water City. The various taboos in the city can be specially lifted today, so the morning ritual discussion for the priests has been moved to the afternoon. This means you will start your discussion in the afternoon, and in the evening, the banishment ritual for the sacrificed will take place.”
The holy voice paused, “Enjoy the festival well, you will gain a lot.”
The voice disappeared.
An Wujiu felt a bit dizzy. He thought, perhaps the holy voice and that rabbit were the same entity, and both might be that evil god.
When he opened the door, he expected to see Shen Ti, but the hallway was empty. Turning his head, he saw Shen Ti leaning against the wall, seemingly still asleep.
How could he sleep so soundly?
An Wujiu squatted down and poked Shen Ti’s cheek with his index finger.
No response.
“Shen Ti.”
He pushed him.
Unexpectedly, Shen Ti actually fell to the other side.
An Wujiu’s heart suddenly sank. He reached out to feel his chest.
At that moment, Shen Ti burst out laughing, grabbed his wrist, and laughed as he fell into An Wujiu’s arms.
“I tricked you!”
His eyes were crescent-shaped with laughter. He hugged An Wujiu and pulled him up. Seeing An Wujiu’s changed expression, Shen Ti realized his joke might have been too much, “Did I scare you?”
An Wujiu shook his head.
“No? Then you really don’t care about me at all.” Shen Ti laughed, “What if I really died? Wouldn’t you be sad?”
“Of course, I would be sad.” An Wujiu lowered his eyes, “So don’t say such things.”
Shen Ti immediately said okay, then kissed An Wujiu on the forehead.
They walked outside together. An Wujiu didn’t speak the entire way, just listened quietly, occasionally responding. Before they reached the main hall of the temple, they heard singing and dancing from outside.
“It seems like a lot of people have gathered in the Water City.” An Wujiu said softly.
In the past few days, the once warm and humid Water City had fallen into continuous heavy snow, becoming lifeless. Today’s festival reignited the original passion and revelry here.
Due to the postponed morning ritual, no one knew who had died last night. The eight people from yesterday were still present today. They looked at each other, full of suspicion, not knowing if the person next to them was a wolf or a dead person.
The holy voice asked them to go down and join the festival with the townsfolk. Even if they didn’t like the noise, the task from the altar still had to be completed.
The wind and snow outside were worse than yesterday, but from a distance, An Wujiu could see the townsfolk dancing barefoot in the snow. The fervent dance almost flattened the thick snow. Their feet were frozen blue and purple, almost like the stone statues.
“Aren’t they cold?” Wu You shivered, hugging his arms.
“Are you cold?” Nan Shan offered to take off his cloak and give it to him, but Wu You waved it away.
“I don’t need it.” Wu You exhaled a breath, the white mist swirling in front of him, “You wear it yourself.”
Shen Ti smiled and put his arm around Nan Shan’s shoulder, trying to ally with him, “Oh, some kids really are heartless, right?”
Nan Shan laughed and said, “No, no,” while Wu You turned to An Wujiu with a sulky face, obviously unhappy, “Wujiu-ge, does it have to be him?”
An Wujiu widened his eyes slightly, “What?”
“Just…” Wu You pulled up his collar, trying to hide his awkwardness, “I mean, does it have to be him? What’s so good about him that you like?”
An Wujiu raised an eyebrow and once again accidentally answered the wrong question, “Is it that obvious?”
Wu You sighed, “Among all the things in your head, this is the only one I can see through. But I just don’t get it. Why him? Just him, such a…”
Shen Ti pushed away his raised hand, “What’s wrong with me? What’s not good about me? Is there anyone else in the world who would argue with a brooding kid like you?”
Wu You: “Do you think it’s very mature of you to argue with a kid?”
Shen Ti: “You admit you’re a kid!”
Wu You: …
Why don’t I just change my name to ‘Nothing to Say’?
Nan Shan looked at An Wujiu and found that he seemed to have a natural barrier, separating himself from the noisy two, completely unaffected, now seriously thinking while descending the stairs.
“Actually…” An Wujiu raised his head and said, “Many people would probably like Shen Ti.”
Wu You immediately turned his head upon hearing this.
An Wujiu said earnestly, “In terms of appearance, just from what I’ve heard, countless people have praised Shen Ti.”
He was also very honest, “When I first saw his face without the mask, I thought he was very much my type, very unique. Don’t you think his eyes are beautiful?”
Wu You: …Enough.
He regretted ever speaking.
An Wujiu continued, “Even if you don’t look at his appearance, Shen Ti’s personality is very interesting. He’s smart but pretends to be foolish; he’s deceitful but sometimes very straightforward; he’s often gloomy but also very charming when he gets serious, isn’t he?”
Nan Shan’s mouth couldn’t help but form a smile.
The truly straightforward one is you.
He felt that An Wujiu was a very unique person, not just because of his extreme duality but also because of his calculating and strategic mind contrasted with his current straightforward cuteness, a contradiction yet seamlessly unified, something Nan Shan had never seen in anyone else.
Thinking this way, he and Shen Ti are quite a match.
An Wujiu’s directness even stunned Shen Ti, who stood frozen, forgetting to walk.
It was Zhou Yijue, passing by and overtaking him, who laughed, his laughter reaching Shen Ti’s ears, snapping him back to reality.
Shen Ti had never thought he had so many merits, in An Wujiu’s eyes.
“I can’t think of anything else to say.” An Wujiu smiled, “Maybe I just like unique people.”
After speaking, he noticed Shen Ti hadn’t followed and wasn’t beside him, so he turned back.
Shen Ti happened to lift his eyes, seeing An Wujiu’s pure and clear look in the snow.
But in the next second, An Wujiu raised an eyebrow, intentionally teasing, “Just a few words and you’re blushing?”
Shen Ti immediately raised his hand to cover his face.
An Wujiu chuckled, walked over, and extended his arm to him.
Shen Ti naturally pulled him into an embrace and asked, “Were you lying to me?”
An Wujiu shook his head in his arms, quietly leaning against him.
Originally, he thought they would just hug briefly since they had already fallen behind the group, but An Wujiu didn’t seem to intend to let go, quietly holding him, his cheek against Shen Ti’s chest.
“Are you cold?” He touched An Wujiu’s cheek.
“Not cold.”
An Wujiu, having hugged enough, stepped back from Shen Ti’s embrace.
Shen Ti sharply sensed something was off about him, but that feeling vanished quickly. Just as he was about to speak, a white object flew toward them at high speed.
An Wujiu’s sense of danger was well-trained, so he instinctively tilted his head, trying to pull Shen Ti aside but couldn’t.
A snowball hit Shen Ti’s neck, shattering into snowflakes that fell into his robe.
Behind them, Wu You laughed childishly, calling him an idiot.
Watching the two bicker again, An Wujiu mentally made excuses for Shen Ti.
After all, he just became human recently; being a bit childish is normal.
He stepped one foot at a time in the snow, following them forward.
Just now, he had deliberately hugged for so long to listen to Shen Ti’s heartbeat.
Despite their many intimate embraces before, An Wujiu had never noticed it. Until today, when Shen Ti joked with him and he reached out to check, he discovered that Shen Ti had no heartbeat.
He didn’t know if it was just a momentary anomaly or his normal state, so he had just hugged him again, listening closely.
He heard nothing.
Shen Ti had breath, a pulse, and a warm body temperature, but no heartbeat.
Before crossing the frozen lake to enter the city, they were suddenly surrounded by many townspeople. Some held torches, others carried oil lamps, and many people were lifting huge stone statues and pillars together. Others danced around the statues. The flowers here had all withered due to the extreme cold, so they wove crowns from dead vines and wore them on their heads.
The stone statues were of various forms, but all seemed to be parts of the deity in the temple. The torches gradually burned blue, the small blue flames like aquamarines scattered on white velvet. Following the light, An Wujiu looked into the distance and saw the glass house atop the tower.
In the daylight, it shone like the most precious diamond.
To celebrate this grand festival, the townspeople had set up countless red tents, with each household offering their precious food. They walked from tent to tent, and Wu You’s attention was caught by a bowl of red jelly-like food. He asked the townspeople what it was.
“This is peeled cactus flesh, my dear priest. We marinate it with cochineal sauce, giving it this beautiful red color,” a young man proudly explained.
“Cochineal bugs??” Wu You almost gagged, waving his hands in refusal at their enthusiastic hospitality, and quickly moved on to the next tent with a forced smile.
“Welcome, welcome, my dear priests.”
In this particular tent sat an old woman, her face painted with deep blue totems that covered her entire face, giving her a somewhat eerie look.
An Wujiu stared at her face and thought of Shen Ti’s hand.
“Is this for divination?” Nan Shan picked up one of the stone cups, which contained two oddly shaped animal bones.
“Yes, exactly. You have good eyes,” the old woman chuckled, her face wrinkled. She eagerly invited them, laying out four stone cups, “Let me divine for you. It will be the greatest honor of my life.”
An Wujiu instinctively wanted to refuse, but the woman had already begun shaking the stone cups.
Shen Ti, curious, crossed his arms and watched the old woman’s actions.
She shook each stone cup, then added some strangely thick liquids—red and green—into them. The old woman stirred the mixtures with her finger, startling Wu You, who thought she was going to eat them. But the next moment, she struck a flint and ignited all four cups.
After the cups burned out, she peered into them and then looked up, giving them a strange smile.
“Alright.” The old woman pushed one cup forward and pointed at Nan Shan, saying, “This is yours.”
Some words had indeed appeared inside the cup, but Nan Shan couldn’t understand them.
The old woman explained directly, “It says: Abandon, Devotion, Cherish, and Faith.”
Nan Shan was slightly moved, “Is this about the past or a prophecy?”
“Perhaps both, perhaps neither.” The old woman didn’t linger, pushing a new cup forward.
“This is yours,” she pointed at An Wujiu, “Yes, it’s yours.”
An Wujiu stood still and nodded.
The old woman squinted, examined closely, and finally smiled at An Wujiu, “You have three words too: Risk it all, Repeat past mistakes…”
“The last one,” her expression changed slightly, “Self-destruction.”
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