When they returned to the courtyard, the villagers had already delivered the “meal”: mixed-flour steamed buns alongside a few plates of stir-fried vegetables prepared with barely any salt or oil. Most of the others were still outside, leaving only the four in Xian Chengyue’s group who had returned early.
There were also those who hadn’t stepped foot outside from the very beginning.
“What else can we do? We can only wait for rain.” Zhao Feng crouched on the steps, rubbing his face as dark blue bags shadowed his eyes.
His teammates gazed up at the sky. The sky was clear and cloudless; untouched by industrial pollution, it was breathtakingly gorgeous, looking like a painting in every direction. Yet no one could appreciate such scenery, for there wasn’t even a cloud in sight. The brighter the sunlight blazed, the deeper their hearts sank into the dark abyss.
Xian Chengyue picked up a mouthful of vegetables with his chopsticks, chewing with a blank expression before swallowing.
Did it not taste bad? Su Yan picked up a bite of the vegetables as well.
“Ugh…” Su Yan stared at Xian Chengyue in shock. “Xian-ge, how can you swallow something this terrible?”
Lacking oil and salt, the vegetables were bitter, astringent, and reeked of muddy silt.
The mixed-flour buns contained wheat bran, making them dry and scratchy on the throat.
The villagers, who hadn’t left yet, grew displeased: “Young man, what are you saying! The village chief specifically had us prepare these for you after you arrived. If we ate them ourselves, there wouldn’t even be any vegetables!”
“Exactly, you’re blessed and don’t know it. City folk are always like this if you look down on it, don’t eat!”
The villagers’ expressions gradually turned ferocious, their facial muscles even beginning to twitch. Everyone in the courtyard shrank their necks in terror.
Only Xian Chengyue remained completely unfazed, continuing to shovel food into his mouth.
Su Yan’s expression shifted slightly. With a smile, he said, “I was just joking. I went hungry when I was a kid, so I can eat anything and find it delicious.”
“The life you’re living now is the life I lived back then, which is why I found it unpalatable. I don’t want to endure the hardships I’ve already suffered a second time.”
Su Yan looked toward the villagers: “You guys probably understand that feeling.”
The villagers, whose faces had looked ferocious just a moment before, instantly softened into an honest, rustic expression.
“Sigh, a few years ago we only had dried sweet potatoes to eat.”
“I still don’t want to eat dried sweet potatoes to this day we ate so much of it we wanted to throw up.”
“Never thought city folk would have hard times too.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Once Xian Chengyue chewed and swallowed his final bite, he turned to ask the eldest among the villagers: “Excuse me, who are the offerings we’re preparing meant for? Are they the ancestors of the villagers?”
The villagers froze, exchanging glances as though unsure how to answer Xian Chengyue’s question.
Zhao Feng watched Xian Chengyue nervously. Only this person dared to so bluntly question NPCs who could flip hostile without warning.
No one knew which sentence might trigger a death trap, and not everyone possessed Su Yan’s talent for smoothing things over.
Questioning NPCs was sometimes equivalent to gambling with one’s own life.
Xian Chengyue looked at the villagers: “Let me rephrase the question. Do we only need to prepare wine, pastries, rootless water, and a chicken? Are any other items required?”
Villager: “That’s enough. With wine and pastries, plus a live sacrificial animal and rootless water, these are the essentials for the sacrifice. Whether you have anything else makes no difference.”
Zhao Feng curled his lip; that was as good as saying nothing.
Xian Chengyue, however, nodded: “Thank you.”
Villager: “Think nothing of it! You folks are just too polite!”
“We’re heading off. Just leave the bowls and chopsticks on the table; my missus will come by later to collect them.”
Until the villagers had walked far away, the people in the courtyard other than Xian Chengyue finally relaxed. Zhao Feng wiped the sweat from his forehead and cast a sideways glance at Jiang Zhongxu. Paired with Jiang Zhongxu in the same subgroup this time, he couldn’t quite decide whether to feel reassured or worried.
“Don’t panic.” Jiang Zhongxu clapped his hands together. Retaining his steady, reliable demeanor with a constant smile at the corners of his mouth, he carried the mature air of a man in his late thirties, easily winning the trust of the two newbies in the group.
Zhao Feng didn’t entirely trust Jiang Zhongxu, waiting to see what he would say next.
“Even though it didn’t rain today, we still have four days left. It might rain on any of those days, so there’s no reason for us to panic right now.” Jiang Zhongxu’s voice was solemn yet gentle, “Even if it really doesn’t rain, we can still think of other ways.”
The two newbies were young men in their early twenties. One of them, a red-haired guy, asked, “Are there other ways?”
Jiang Zhongxu smiled: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Don’t blindly trust NPCs; their words have loopholes too. They’re just a part of this instance, not the whole thing.”
The red-haired guy widened his eyes: “Jiang-ge, you’re right! As long as nobody finds out, using well water should be fine!”
The other guy chimed in: “Right, right, maybe we can!”
Zhao Feng remained silent. Jiang Zhongxu looked over at him: “Xiao Zhao, what do you think?”
Zhao Feng: “Whatever.”
Jiang Zhongxu smiled with pursed lips: “Anyway, there are still four days left, no need to rush.”
“By the way, did you guys find a chicken?” Jiang Zhongxu looked smilingly at Xian Chengyue.
Xian Chengyue didn’t answer, merely glancing at him.
That gaze was as ice-cold as looking at a corpse.
The smile at the corner of Jiang Zhongxu’s mouth twitched before he finally stopped smiling, fixing his gaze on Xian Chengyue.
“Xiao Xian, don’t keep people at such a distance.” Jiang Zhongxu sighed, “I’m just concerned about you.”
Xian Chengyue: “Xiao Xian?”
Jiang Zhongxu smiled mildly: “You’re so much younger than me. If I’d married early, I could have a child as old as you.”
The red-haired guy chimed in: “What kind of attitude is that toward an elder?”
“Jiang-ge takes such good care of us, so what’s wrong with him calling you Xiao Xian?”
Xian Chengyue stood up.
Both the red-haired guy and the other guy instinctively took a step back.
The red-haired guy bit his teeth together, a chill running through his entire body.
Xian Chengyue’s presence carried an overwhelming sense of oppression. His muscle lines were proportioned to absolute perfection not bulky, yet far from slender. The ordinary button-down shirt that looked shapeless on most people traced the clear, sharp contours of his muscles the moment he wore it.
He also possessed a handsome, chilling face.
Locking eyes with Jiang Zhongxu, Xian Chengyue spoke in a tone carrying an imperceptible trace of disgust: “Don’t call me that. You’re not worthy.”
“You…”
Jiang Zhongxu cut the red-haired guy off. Spreading his hands in an amiable posture, he said, “Fine, I won’t call you that anymore, Mr. Xian.”
Instead, Xian Chengyue addressed the red-haired guy directly: “Use your brain more.”
The red-haired guy blinked rigidly. Glancing at Jiang Zhongxu, he quickly recovered his stance: “You should worry about yourself! We didn’t find water, but didn’t you guys fail to find a chicken?! We can figure out a workaround for the water, but since you guys can’t find a chicken, what are you going to do go ‘cluck-cluck’ yourselves?”
“Jiang-ge isn’t like you, either refusing to speak or throwing sarcastic remarks at everyone else!” roared the red-haired guy.
“Putting on such a high-and-mighty act!”
Su Yan looked at Xian Chengyue, eager to see how he would react to such verbal abuse.
Would he hurl insults back? Or beat the red-haired guy up?
Knowing Xian Chengyue’s temper, though, he would probably just ignore him, right?
Sure enough, Xian Chengyue paid the red-haired guy no mind whatsoever.
It was Lin Min who stuttered out: “Y-you’re talking nonsense. We went to you guys for help last night, and y-you didn’t open the door. It was Xian-ge who opened the door for u-us! Xian-ge is a good person!”
The red-haired guy’s face flushed bright red, his gaze snapping back to Jiang Zhongxu.
Jiang Zhongxu: “We had to consider the others in the room; opening the door carried too much risk. Only someone who doesn’t care about anyone else’s life would dare to open the door at a time like that.”
Su Yan: “Does it have anything to do with you?”
“As long as the outcome is good, Xian-ge did a good thing. Besides, Xian-ge has cleared so many trials; he certainly thinks things through more thoroughly than you do. If there’s genuine danger, he has to bear the consequences himself.”
“Don’t make excuses for your own cowardice and incompetence.” A matching fake smile hung on Su Yan’s face as he mirrored Jiang Zhongxu’s expression, “If you can’t shoulder risks yourself, stop second-guessing other people’s motives.”
Having said that, Su Yan turned his gaze toward Xian Chengyue.
Xian Chengyue, who had never once cast his gaze upon him, was now looking directly at him.
Those pitch-black eyes were fixed upon him.
Those arrogant, aloof eyes now mirrored his own reflection.
Su Yan’s heartbeat abruptly stuttered, followed by his heart hammering out of control in wild, uncontrolled rhythms.
He had never felt like this before so desperate to be remembered by someone, as though earning this person’s recognition was his ultimate challenge right now.
“So tired!”
Someone stepped through the courtyard gate.
The four people who entered looked travel-worn, their trouser legs caked with dirt, yet their expressions were thoroughly relaxed.
Liang Shu and Xie Youmin had been grouped together this time as well. Their facial expressions no longer resembled yesterday’s state no longer like frightened birds or strings pulled to a breaking point; their taut nerves had finally unwound somewhat.
“How is it? Did you guys find anything?” Zhao Feng hurried forward.
Liang Shu cracked a grin, looking somewhat silly: “Found it! There’s a miller in the village, and the miller said if we help him grind soybeans for two days, he’ll give us a plate of mung bean pastries.”
“Turns out it wasn’t that hard after all, the miller is quite easy to talk to.”
“I initially thought the task would be terribly difficult, but it’s actually pretty simple.”
“Looks like we don’t need to worry.”
“Really?” Jiang Zhongxu spoke up abruptly, plunging the courtyard into absolute silence.
Jiang Zhongxu smiled amiably: “That’s good.”
Liang Shu: “Thanks, Jiang-ge!”
Xie Youmin glanced at Jiang Zhongxu. Unsure of what she was thinking, she tugged on Liang Shu’s arm. Liang Shu blinked, while Xie Youmin looked at the food set out on the table: “Let’s eat first.”
“Go to sleep early tonight,” Xie Youmin said with lowered eyes. “Double-check everything before sleeping, and don’t forget what the village chief said.”
Just as Liang Shu and the others stepped inside, the members of the final group returned right behind them.
The members of the last group all kept their heads down. This group also happened to contain the highest concentration of veterans three out of the four were veterans.
Chen Wei was also in this group.
“Xian-ge.” Chen Wei skipped dinner entirely, trotting straight over to Xian Chengyue’s side. Bowing slightly with an exaggerated display of respect, he lowered his voice: “We walked around the village today and asked everyone we could. No one in the village brews wine; there isn’t enough grain to eat, so it’s impossible for them to waste any on brewing alcohol.”
Chen Wei pressed his lips together, his expression stiff.
Xian Chengyue parted his thin lips, his aloof face still devoid of any superfluous expression: “Which family in the village would have wine?”
Chen Wei lifted his head abruptly.
Xian Chengyue: “Quests have difficulty, but they are never impossible.”
“As long as the wine is genuinely wine, how you obtain it doesn’t matter.”
Looking at Chen Wei’s slightly youthful, naive face, Xian Chengyue thought of his older brother, Chen Shuo.
Though Chen Shuo had indeed volunteered himself back then, Chen Shuo had nearly died there, meaning he bore a fraction of the responsibility.
He was repaying this favor this one time, treating the debt as settled.
Compared to Chen Shuo, Chen Wei seemed somewhat steadier.
Xian Chengyue looked beyond the courtyard gate: “If you’re bold enough, go to the village chief’s house.”
Chen Wei’s hands clenched into tight fists, trembling slightly: “Go… steal it?”
Xian Chengyue: “Choose for yourselves. Even without wine, you might not necessarily die.”
Words spoken by Xian Chengyue always carried an inexplicable weight of conviction; listeners invariably felt that he was right, and that as long as they followed his instructions, they would achieve the best possible outcome.
Chen Wei recalled what his older brother had told him:
“Don’t bother trying to get on Xian Chengyue’s good side. For my sake, he’ll probably be willing to carry you along a bit. Learn from him, and think more about why he does things the way he does.”
“Your older brother here relied on playing the pity card to latch onto his coattails. If you hit any roadblock you can’t get past, you might as well act a bit more vulnerable in front of him.”
Chen Wei: “…How vulnerable?”
He remembered his older brother cackling slyly: “You’ve got to cry pitifully enough. When your older brother here followed him, I cried from start to finish.”
At that moment, Chen Wei thought: no matter how formidable Xian Chengyue was, an older brother who could cry all the way to the end was truly even more formidable.
Chen Wei lowered his head: “I understand.”
The next second, Chen Wei lifted his head once more. His eyes were red-rimmed, tears swirling within them as he lightly bit his lip. Insecurity and timidity were written deep within his eyes, his voice trembling slightly with stubborn, pitiful fragility: “I want to… be able to go back and see my older brother.”
Su Yan, standing right beside them leaning against the wall, stared intently at Chen Wei.
He ground his back molars together.
Tch, a scheming little green tea.