It was exactly one in the afternoon. Qi Si stepped out of the courtyard, phone in hand, and was instantly soaked by the damp chill.
A vast, watery mist once again billowed from the shadows, coiling gracefully to shroud the entire street. It cast a gauzy, veil-like filter over the white-washed walls and black-tiled roofs, making everything near and far seem dreamlike.
Qi Si looked down, using two fingers to adjust the map on his phone. After plotting a route, he put the phone away and continued on from memory.
Du Xiaoyu and Shang Qingbei trailed after him in silence.
The mist grew thicker, and the houses on either side stood further and further apart, as if the narrow street were opening up like a channel flowing into a lake.
Where the path widened into an open expanse, Qi Si saw a well in the center of the clearing.
The well's rim was built from black stones, its edges heavily worn and crumbling. There was no bucket nearby, only a coil of half-rotted rope wrapped around a wooden frame, an adjustable loop tied at its end.
The implication was clear: secure the loop around someone's waist and lower them into the well.
Gazing at the hemp rope, uneven and frayed from decay, Qi Si suspected that once someone was lowered down, it would eventually snap, leaving them trapped below forever.
"Drip... drip..."
A faint dripping sound reached his ears, like a water clock.
A faltering, trembling voice drifted up from the well. "Help me... Help me..."
The surrounding light dimmed by several degrees, plunging them from day into night in an instant.
Qi Si saw a woman in a red wedding dress sitting by the well, her face haggard and drawn.
Her hair, long as a waterfall, hid most of her face, leaving her features indistinct. Only her dark, hollow eyes were visible, peering out from between the strands with a cold, grim gaze.
"Is there no one to save me? I couldn't save anyone... and no one can save me..."
She murmured to herself, as if having reached a decision. In an instant, she turned and leaped down. A crimson afterimage stained the mist like blood, lingering long after she was gone.
The vision continued. Townspeople, clearly from a different era, rushed over with torches and weapons, whispering urgently among themselves.
"The young miss is dead! What are we going to do?"
"This is trouble," another fretted. "She threw herself into the well in a red wedding dress. She's bound to become a vengeful spirit!"
The murmuring subsided as a short, stout woman in a floral dress pushed through the crowd to the front.
She clearly commanded great authority, for with a single raise of her hand, she silenced the panicked townspeople.
"What is there to fear?" she declared. "That girl was out of her mind. I'll just pretend I never had a granddaughter! I'll build a temple for her another day, set up a feng shui formation, and trap her spirit inside. That will settle it."
"Coincidentally, some people have taken an interest in us and are sending investigators. When they arrive, we'll just claim it's a local custom for worshipping a god. We'll press some silver into their hands, and what trouble could there be?"
The townspeople clamored in agreement, and the vision faded amidst the market-like din, dissolving like a wisp of smoke into the mist.
The light returned to normal. Qi Si glanced at the time—it was exactly one-thirty.
"Help me..." The voice from the well echoed tirelessly.
Qi Si turned back to Du Xiaoyu and Shang Qingbei. "Well, I don't know if we can trust any of that," he said, his tone light, "but at least it's an explanation for the Joy Goddess. I wonder, was that a little sweetener before asking for our help?"
Shang Qingbei adjusted his glasses. "It seems the Joy Goddess did die by suicide, but for a different reason than what Auntie Xu told us. She was driven to it by the townspeople. When her calls for help went unanswered, death was her only choice."
Confused, Du Xiaoyu asked, "But they called her 'young miss,' didn't they? Who could have possibly forced her hand?"
Twisted desires stretched their bestial claws, devouring kinship and humanity until all that remained was an empty shell, its worth measured only in profit.
Qi Si approached the well, his gaze fixed on its opening, which gaped like a deep, dark eye. "We're still missing a crucial clue," he stated. "I'm afraid we'll have to go down there to find it."
...
Meanwhile, in a past timeline of Double Happiness Town, Liu Bingding and Li Yao sat beside an open coffin, a heavy silence between them.
Their reunion had been almost comically simple. Liu Bingding followed a funeral procession to where the coffin was laid, heard Xu Yao's cries for help, and promptly pried out the four nails to free her.
At that moment, Li Yao's identity was "Miss Xu," and since they were outside the Xu residence, the side quest [Escape the Xu Residence with "Miss Xu"] was automatically marked as [Complete].
New text promptly appeared on their system interfaces.
[Congratulations! You have obtained the clue: Town Records]
A yellowed, softcover book seemed to open in both players' minds, its densely packed text sketching out the history of Double Happiness Town:
Three hundred years ago, Double Happiness Town was little more than a small settlement nestled in a mountain valley. Isolated and difficult to access, travel and trade were arduous, and the town was mired in poverty.
That is, until a woman surnamed Xu arrived. Only then did a proper town begin to take shape.
The woman called herself "Granny Xu." She was a spirit medium who practiced divination and fortune-telling, adept at putting on a show. But she also possessed a powerful form of Gu sorcery, capable of clouding minds and reducing her victims to a witless state.
She gained considerable renown in her trade but soon grew dissatisfied with simply swindling people out of their money. Using her travels through streets and alleys as a cover, she began to bewitch women and children, selling them off to distant places.
When the authorities began to crack down on such activities, Granny Xu sought a new base of operations and set her sights on the secluded Double Happiness Town. With the wealth and connections she had amassed over the years, she put down roots.
She resumed her old trade, leading the mountain folk to roam various regions. They would drug women, place them in coffins to evade the authorities' notice, and transport them deep into the mountains. There, she would use her Gu sorcery to dull their minds before selling them.
Initially, the authorities were oblivious to the town's activities. After all, who would suspect that a bride was being transported inside a funeral procession—a "happy occasion" disguised in the most inauspicious way imaginable?
By the time the authorities discovered what was happening, it was too late. Double Happiness Town's enterprise had grown too large. The townspeople protected their own, and substantial bribes had already smoothed things over with the right officials.
Granny Xu was savvy and knew how to play the game. She was also careful never to cross the wrong people, so those who knew of her activities were content to turn a blind eye.
Decades passed in this manner. Granny Xu became the de facto ruler of Double Happiness Town, building a grand estate and cultivating connections with numerous officials.
Over the next century, her trade and Gu sorcery were passed down through the generations—only to the women, never the men. Each successor who took over was respectfully called "Granny Xu" by the townspeople.
This continued until Xu Yao's generation.
The record ended there. Li Yao picked up the thread. "As the granddaughter of her generation's Granny Xu, Xu Yao was disgusted by the family business. She tried to work with an assistant magistrate from the county to gather evidence and rescue the captured girls, but unfortunately, she was discovered."
Liu Bingding pressed, "So Granny Xu upheld justice and disowned her own family?"
"No..." Xu Yao shook her head slightly, then suddenly froze.
She had spotted several blurry silhouettes materializing in the distant mist. They drifted faintly, looking as though a gust of wind might scatter them.
As the shadows drew nearer, she could make out blood-red blush on their cheeks through the gauzy mist. Their faint, eerie smiles were indistinct, which only made them more terrifying.
"Hee hee hee... hee hee..."
There were seven of them—paper figurines—drifting closer, waving their arms. Their shrill, unnerving laughter mixed with the rustle of their paper clothes, each sound a hammer blow against the nerves.
"Quick, get in the coffin and close the lid!" Xu Yao cried, scrambling inside and pulling Liu Bingding in after her.
With a *thud*, the lid slammed shut, plunging them into a world devoid of sound, light, and color.
In the last second before darkness consumed everything, Li Yao caught a glimpse of a deathly pale face flashing past the crack...
...
"Help me... Someone, help me..."
The voice from the bottom of the well repeated its plea.
Qi Si called down, "How do you want us to save you?"
The voice paused for a few seconds, as if considering. When it resumed, its words were different. "Come down... and get me out of here..."
Shang Qingbei took a small step back, rubbing his chin. "There are three of us. A perfect division of labor: one goes down, one manages the rope, and one keeps watch." Without looking up, Qi Si asked calmly, "So who's going down?"
"Let me be clear from the start: I will not be the one going down," Shang Qingbei stated, adjusting his glasses, his gaze on Qi Si cool and sharp. "Even if you force me, I won't share any clues I find with you. At this point, I might as well be blunt. I suspect you're a slaughter-stream player, and I think you have some way to make Du Xiaoyu obey your every command. I can't trust my safety to the two of you if I'm the one down there."
"Who are you calling a slaughter-stream player?" Du Xiaoyu snapped, though his voice lacked conviction.
In the team instances he'd experienced before, it was always the veteran players who took charge, leading the investigation and piecing together clues. By sticking close to them, he could always manage to get a piece of the action.
But this instance felt completely different. Not only was the team rife with conflict, but there was also Qi Si. He seemed approachable enough, but had he taken on any responsibility as a leader at all?
The thought sent a shiver down his spine—could Qi Si really be a slaughter-stream player?
The thought made Du Xiaoyu shudder. "Do you have any proof?" he demanded. "You can't just throw accusations like that around!"
"I have no proof, but it's not a risk I'm willing to take." Shang Qingbei shook his head gently. "If I turn out to be wrong, I will apologize. But I want to live, and I can't afford a single misstep in that regard. I hope you can understand."
"That's a sound argument," Qi Si remarked with a hint of approval. "So, in your opinion, who should go down?"
Shang Qingbei replied, "Du Xiaoyu can't go. He's too weak; he might not even find any useful clues. You, on the other hand, Qi Si, are a veteran player. You're strong enough. And while I may be suspicious of you, with Du Xiaoyu here, you won't have to worry about being abandoned at the bottom."
Qi Si countered with an intrigued smile. "And what makes you so sure that I would share any clues I obtain at great personal risk?"
Shang Qingbei fell silent for a moment before pinching the frame of his glasses. "It doesn't matter if you share them or not," he said. "Either way, I am not going down that well. My life is more important to me than any clue."
It was a textbook example of the Rational Pig Game. In this scenario, Shang Qingbei was the "small pig," the weaker party for whom taking action carried a higher risk. Conversely, Qi Si was the "big pig," the stronger party with less to lose.
When both parties need to achieve the same goal, the weaker one gains more by being passive, while the stronger one is forced by the circumstances to take the initiative.
Qi Si understood this perfectly, and a serene smile touched his lips.
He was beginning to understand why the Puppet Master was so fond of taking on the "leader" role, a position that was clearly a trap.
Acting counter-intuitively, treating every decision as a matter of probability, and even manipulating the group into pressuring oneself...
A mob was the easiest thing to incite. Its members could always be lured, unknowingly, into making irrational decisions, all while patting themselves on the back for their own democratic choice.
And once every choice was cloaked in the veil of chance and democracy, few would ever suspect it was all part of a meticulous plot.
Just like now. No one would suspect that Qi Si had intended to go down the well all along; they would only believe he was being coerced by Shang Qingbei.
Even if he were to build an elaborate lie with this as its foundation, who would ever suspect it was all a premeditated sham?
Without another word, Qi Si walked over to the wooden frame by the well, picked up the looped rope, and tested its weight.
The entire town was cold, damp, and shrouded in mist. The hemp rope was soaked, making it heavy in his hands, but it still looked sturdy enough.
Qi Si slipped the loop around his waist and pulled it tight.
Shang Qingbei had braced himself for more of an argument and was surprised by how quickly Qi Si had relented.
Watching the young man's deft, almost practiced movements, he felt a twinge of shame. Had he truly misjudged a good person because of his own prejudice?
Qi Si perched on the rim of the well and looked back at Du Xiaoyu. "I'll go down and take a look," he said. "After five minutes, no matter what, pull me back up."
Du Xiaoyu nodded eagerly and positioned himself by the wooden frame, his expression serious as he began to work the pulley mechanism.
His earlier deference to Qi Si hadn't been born of any fanboy admiration; he was simply employing his usual instance strategy of finding the strongest player to latch onto.
He just hadn't expected this particular patron to be so flimsy, talked into descending into a well after just a few sentences.
Now, having already clashed with Shang Qingbei, all he could do was swallow his pride and pray that Qi Si made it back up in one piece.
His expression placid, Qi Si turned, gripped the rope with both hands, and launched himself into the well.
Du Xiaoyu quickly took hold of the pulley on the frame and began to slowly lower the rope, one coil at a time.
The well seemed bottomless, its stone walls too slick with moisture to offer any purchase. Qi Si had no choice but to hang from the rope like bait on a hook as he was lowered into the darkness.
Seconds ticked by to the rhythmic beat of his pocket watch. The circle of light above shrank, the temperature plummeted, and a pervasive chill settled in the air, impossible to shake.
In the silence, his feet suddenly made contact with soft earth. He had reached the bottom of the well.
Qi Si pulled a compact mirror from his pocket and flicked on its LED light.
In the harsh, pale light, he saw that he was surrounded by a carpet of white bones. Human skeletons, the last remnants of decayed corpses, lay piled in chaotic heaps.
And in the center of the sprawling ossuary, a young man in a white shirt and black trousers sat cross-legged.
His head was bowed, and his exposed skin was a sickly, pale white. In the utter silence, there was no sound of breath; he observed the perfect stillness of a corpse.
Completely unruffled, Qi Si walked over, tilted the young man's chin up, and, just as he'd expected, found himself looking at his own face.
It was a dead face. Tranquil. Expressionless.
In that instant, a flood of non-narrative information coursed through his mind as a series of images flashed before his eyes.
A scholar named Zhang, searching for a loved one, sat on a boat. He inhaled the cloying scent of incense, and his consciousness began to fade.
The boatman steered the raft ashore and ordered the old crones on the bank to toss the unconscious intruder into the well.
The scholar's soul drifted into town, possessed a paper figurine, and began to wander aimlessly...
But still, he wondered, could paper figurines dream?
A strange smile touched Qi Si's lips. He gave his own corpse an unceremonious pat on the shoulder, leaned close to its ear, and declared, "Wake up. You've slept long enough. Isn't it about time you got to work?"
...
In his dream the previous night, the ghost wearing Li Yao's face had asked him in a haunting voice, "Tell me, am I dead, or am I alive?"
Qi Si had simply looked at her and offered a gentle smile. "What if you're dead? What if you're alive? If you're a ghost, your purpose is to kill all the players. If you're a player, your purpose is to survive the ghosts. Aside from your loyalties, what difference is there between the two?"
The ghost had seized him by the throat, hissing, "I will kill you... I will kill you..."
Though he was struggling for breath, Qi Si had kept smiling. "I don't mind the idea of dying. In fact, if I did, I would gladly roam this world as a ghost and slaughter all the humans."
He paused, his eyes curving into crescents. "Of course, I do hold a grudge. Tell me, as a fellow ghost, how do you think I'd stack up against you?"
...
And now, here at the bottom of the well, Qi Si had just used a rather brusque method to reanimate his own corpse.
The corpse's eyelids fluttered open, revealing pupils so dark and lightless they seemed capable of devouring a soul.
Having suffered from "Soul-Weightlessness" for so many years, Qi Si was long accustomed to meeting himself face-to-face.
He admired his corpse for a few seconds, offered it a cheerful greeting, and then shifted his gaze to a sheet of yellow scripture paper lying on the ground nearby.
He bent to pick up the yellow paper, scanned its contents, and clicked his tongue. "Well, the postal service is certainly efficient."
From the moment he'd seen the old man burning joss paper at the Joy God Temple, Qi Si had suspected this instance might contain an interesting gameplay mechanic.
His suspicion had grown stronger after discovering the phone clue was a fake. If some higher power could manufacture false leads, he'd thought, why couldn't a player give it a try?
Qi Si stuffed the yellow paper into the corpse's pocket, then untied the rope from his own waist and fastened it around the body. Next, he systematically placed his items—the Silver Bracelet, the Fate Pocket Watch, the Rose Heart, and others—onto the corresponding parts of the corpse.
When he was done, he glanced with some frustration at the items in his inventory that weren't as easy to manifest physically, like the recorder and Poseidon's Scepter. He then looked up at the now-sentient corpse and smiled.
"It's still early," he said. "Interested in signing a contract?"
(This chapter is over)