Night was pitch black, completely swallowing the dilapidated hut.
Liú Xiǎomǎn, using the dim light of the oil lamp, spread the carefully oiled package of beast-repelling powder in her palm.
She pinched a small amount of the grayish-yellow powder to her nose, and the pungent mixture of sulfur and acrid herbs instantly invaded her nostrils.
Her fingers twitched slightly, and the system’s scan results immediately appeared in her mind: 【Warning: This mixture has a strong repellent effect on wild animals, causes mild skin irritation in humans, and if inhaled or ingested in large quantities, may cause nervous paralysis and organ failure.】
A cold curve slowly appeared at the corner of Liú Xiǎomǎn’s lips, her eyes utterly devoid of warmth.
“Mild irritation?” she sneered in her mind. “That depends entirely on how it’s used, and on whom.”
Late at night, Lǐ Xiùxiù and Liú Cōngming had already fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Liú Xiǎomǎn whispered to her mother, “Mother, I’m stepping out,” then grabbed the short sickle from the corner, her figure flashing like a nimble night cat, slipping silently out of the hut.
The moonlight was pale, sifting through sparse branches to cast mottled shadows on the ground, like countless watching eyes.
She didn’t go far, relying on her daytime memory, heading straight toward the spots where Liú Dàbǎo was most likely hiding.
All those spots were perfect for concealing one’s body while keeping the hut’s movements fully in view.
She crouched behind a half-person-high bush, her mind sinking into the system mall.
Using her last remaining points, she quickly exchanged and unlocked a Basic Regional Plant Guide.
Images and information on countless plants flashed rapidly in her mind, finally settling on one vine.
【Ghost Thorn Vine: Locally common plant, juice non-toxic, but contains numerous tiny needle-like crystals. Contact with skin quickly penetrates pores, causing unbearable burning-like itching. Effect lasts three to five hours.】
“Perfect!” Liú Xiǎomǎn thought grimly, a hint of ruthlessness in her eyes.
She didn’t intend to take Liú Dàbǎo’s life—that would only escalate things and provoke the entire Liú estate’s revenge.
What she wanted was fear: to make him believe, to his bones, that the back mountain was unsafe; to make him uncomfortable the moment he approached, so he would never dare set foot there again.
She took out a pair of coarse cloth gloves she had prepared, skillfully avoiding the vine’s thorns, carefully breaking off several of the thickest segments.
Using the back of her short sickle, she crushed them hard, and the dark green, sticky sap oozed from the broken ends.
She mixed the sap with soil to form clumps of seemingly normal mud, then patiently applied them to tree trunks Liú Dàbǎo was most likely to grasp, and to the inner sides of shrubs he might brush aside.
These were all visual dead spots—no one would discover them unless deliberately searching.
While setting the third trap, a sudden bark from the village direction pierced the silent night, making her heart skip a beat.
She immediately crouched lower, shrinking into the shadow of the grass, breathing as lightly as possible, listening intently.
Fortunately, the barking didn’t persist.
Once safe, she continued her setup.
Not only did she smear the Ghost Thorn Vine sap, but she also spread the beast-repelling powder in an extremely fine, thin layer along the grass paths between surveillance points.
The night wind would cause the colorless, odorless powder to quietly cling to the legs and shoes of anyone passing through.
After finishing, she carefully checked everything, erasing any trace she left behind, even a single footprint that didn’t belong.
Only then did she silently return to the hut, moving so lightly that no one was disturbed.
“Xiǎomǎn?” Lǐ Xiùxiù woke at the faint light of the opened door, sitting up in concern.
“Mother, it’s fine.” Liú Xiǎomǎn went to the bedside, tucking the covers, her voice calm and strong. “No matter what you hear outside tonight, don’t make a sound. Don’t let Cōngming make a sound. Just sleep.”
Looking into her daughter’s steady eyes, Lǐ Xiùxiù’s doubts and worries were suppressed by the trust built over these days; she nodded heavily.
Shortly after midnight, a stealthy figure appeared at the village’s edge.
Liú Dàbǎo hadn’t noticed anything unusual during the day, but Old Lady Tián and Wáng Jīnhuā felt something was wrong, forcing him to return at night for surveillance.
Reluctant though he was, the thought of two boiled eggs as a reward kept him going.
Familiar with the area, he easily reached his chosen observation point.
Behind a large stone under a crooked tree.
To see better, he pushed aside a bush in front of him.
A sticky, slippery sensation came to his fingertips. Moonlight revealed it to be mud mixed with dew, which he disgustedly rubbed on his pants.
He settled comfortably, leaning against the crooked tree, his neck rubbing the rough bark, brushing against the special mud Liú Xiǎomǎn had carefully applied.
He squatted there for half an hour, the cold wind making his nose run.
Inside the hut, aside from the occasional suppressed cough from Lǐ Xiùxiù, there was complete silence, as quiet as a grave.
“Bah! Damn unlucky!” Liú Dàbǎo spat impatiently, freezing, ready to leave.
Just as he stood, a sudden, unbearable itch surged from the palm that had brushed the bush.
It began like a tiny insect crawling; he scratched instinctively.
But scratching unleashed a flood of itching from his palm up to his wrist and arm!
His neck and powder-coated ankles soon felt the same bone-piercing itch.
“Ugh!” Liú Dàbǎo groaned, feeling as if he had fallen into an anthill, with thousands of invisible venomous insects gnawing at his skin and flesh!
He frantically clawed at himself, nails scraping bloody marks across his skin. The more he scratched, the worse it became. His skin swelled, even bleeding.
The torment drove him completely insane.
Forgetting all about surveillance, he tumbled out of the grass, tearing at his clothes, sprinting madly toward the Liú estate.
“It itches! It itches to death! Ghosts! Help!”
His shrill, pig-like screams pierced the silent village night, setting off barking dogs.
Inside the hut, Liú Xiǎomǎn listened calmly to the fading screams from nearby to the far end of the village, as if she had only heard the wind.
She knew that, at least for a long time, Liú Dàbǎo—their biggest surveillance problem—was completely dealt with.
Finally, she could breathe easy, devoting all her energy to building the new home.
However, just as a faint smile appeared on her lips, ready to lie down and rest, an unprecedented, sharp system alert sounded in her mind, urgent and alarming, like a bucket of ice water poured over her head:
【Warning! Significant change detected in world rules. Emergency main quest released!】