The night scenery in the village was gorgeous, though unfortunately, Xian Chengyue had no heart to appreciate it. Wearing his jacket and walking at a fairly moderate pace, he crossed the villagers’ farmlands and stepped onto the muddy mountain trail. With no streetlights or flashlights, he could only rely on the moonlight to make out his surroundings.
Against his ears were the rustling sounds of the night breeze blowing through the leaves, alongside the chirping of insects in the woods. Even in the dead of night, the mountain forest was far from quiet, proving quite noisy instead. Xian Chengyue had excellent eyesight, but for some reason, his pace remained very slow.
Su Yan followed closely behind Xian Chengyue, entirely unclear as to what Xian Chengyue was actually aiming to do.
As for whether stepping outside the door would result in death just as he had told Zhao Feng, he wasn’t afraid of death. Compared to dying, curiosity was obviously far more important.
This mountain, which the villagers had warned against climbing, was right beneath their feet now.
When Xian Chengyue climbed halfway up the mountainside, he finally came to a halt. The moonlight, resembling a thin veil, draped over his dark hair and shoulders. Stopping beneath a pine tree, his cold voice echoed leisurely through the mountain forest: “Come out.”
Su Yan, who had been hiding behind a tree, rubbed his nose and stepped into Xian Chengyue’s field of vision.
Xian Chengyue stared at him coldly.
Probably unless the sea flowed backward and time reversed, Xian Chengyue would never take the initiative to speak to anyone first.
Su Yan conjured up a smile that could be described as “innocent and pure,” completely unconcerned with whether a smile on his face looked genuine or not: “When I stepped out the door, I honestly thought I was going to die.”
Xian Chengyue furrowed his brow slightly.
Su Yan walked toward Xian Chengyue: “Jiang Zhongxu used human lives to test things out, but what about you, Xian-ge?”
Jiang Zhongxu used human lives to test the validity of the village chief’s words, so what did Xian Chengyue use?
Risking his life in person? Su Yan felt Xian Chengyue wouldn’t do something like that; for some reason, he felt that Xian Chengyue was rather fond of living.
Perhaps because this place was tranquil and silent, or perhaps simply because Xian Chengyue found Su Yan pleasing to the eye, Xian Chengyue replied: “People here will lie, but within their lies, there is also truth.”
A high-level lie always consisted of three parts truth and seven parts falsehood. Xian Chengyue glanced toward the distant pool of water.
On moonlit nights, bodies of standing water would reflect light, appearing brighter than anywhere else.
Su Yan followed Xian Chengyue’s gaze, failing to understand what he was looking at. Shifting his gaze back to land on Xian Chengyue instead, a withered leaf happened to detach itself from above Xian Chengyue’s head, brushing right past his cheek.
Xian Chengyue continued: “The premise that we cannot go outside, cannot light lamps, and cannot make sounds is that there must be no water.”
Xian Chengyue: “The village chief wasn’t entirely lying, either.”
As long as there was no water nearby, and no medium capable of luring the monsters, then whether stepping outside, lighting lamps, or speaking aloud, none of it would summon the monsters.
Su Yan: “How did you figure that out?”
It had only been two days how on earth did he figure out something so comprehensive?
Xian Chengyue glanced at Su Yan, a hint of confusion in his eyes.
It was as if he were asking: “Isn’t this simple? Haven’t two full days been more than enough time?”
At that moment, Su Yan finally believed what Zhao Feng had said.
In an instance where everyone else perished entirely, Xian Chengyue was truly the only one capable of walking out alive.
Xian Chengyue: “You shouldn’t have followed me out.”
Su Yan blinked: “Because you couldn’t be certain whether your deduction was correct?”
To his surprise, Xian Chengyue actually nodded. Xian Chengyue: “Only with boldness and meticulous attention to detail can one keep going.”
No matter how intelligent a person was, if they lacked the courage within the “inner world” and didn’t dare to verify things, they would ultimately end up dead.
The previous trial he had cleared had been filled with intelligent people and battle-hardened veterans; yet when faced with fear, they still grew timid, still grew cowardly, and still hesitated and stalled which was why they had all died.
Su Yan rubbed his chin: “Xian-ge, take me under your wing.”
“Look, I’m quite bold myself.”
Xian Chengyue raised an eyebrow.
“What are we going to do next?” Su Yan asked.
Xian Chengyue: “Head back.”
Xian Chengyue lifted his head to glance at the sky; the clouds were about to swallow the moon. Without moonlight, danger lurked everywhere out here.
“Alright.” Su Yan didn’t ask why, simply trailing right behind Xian Chengyue’s back, his burning gaze fixed steadily upon the back of Xian Chengyue’s head.
Xian Chengyue: “…”
That gaze felt as substantial as a physical weight. Xian Chengyue stopped in his tracks, turned his head, and looked at Su Yan.
Su Yan flashed Xian Chengyue a blindingly radiant smile, regardless of the fact that his face somehow always made that sort of smile look unrulily rebellious.
He finally got a response.
It was well worth the effort of holding his eyes wide open for so long.
The noise beside his ear was finally cleared away.
Xian Chengyue resumed staring at the overcast clouds.
The occupants of the rooms gradually woke up. Liang Shu and Xie Youmin set out in the company of their two remaining companions; they still had to grind soybeans for another day before they could claim their mung bean pastries the next morning.
They still didn’t linger long in the courtyard, didn’t even stop to draw water and wash their faces, rushing straight toward the mill instead.
Over on Zhao Feng’s side, only three people remained. The young male student stuck tightly to Jiang Zhongxu’s side, while Zhao Feng wore a gloomy expression, casting a gaze of extraordinary malice toward Su Yan.
Even Xian Chengyue caught it.
Xian Chengyue glanced at Su Yan.
As if knowing precisely what was running through Xian Chengyue’s mind, Su Yan remarked naturally, “Zhao-ge feels like I stole you away from him.”
“Zhao-ge thinks that if it weren’t for me, he could’ve been in the same group as you.” Su Yan curved the corners of his lips into a bitter smile. “Zhao-ge is actually a pretty good guy, he’s just stuck in a dead-end mindset. If there’s a chance, I’d like to help him out whenever I can.”
Xian Chengyue glanced at Su Yan.
This was the first time he had ever encountered such a living saint.
He practically looked ready to be sun-dried into beef jerky, framed, and hung on the wall as a portrait.
Yet Xian Chengyue felt no aversion.
“Help him if you want.” Xian Chengyue massaged his temples.
Su Yan’s bitter smile froze on his face. That wasn’t right normally speaking, shouldn’t Xian Chengyue say something like “Don’t waste unprovoked kindness” or “Don’t care about other people’s lives”?
And then Xian Chengyue wouldn’t spare Zhao Feng a second glance.
Su Yan: “Alright, don’t worry, Xian-ge.”
Xian Chengyue gave Su Yan a perplexed look.
What did he have to worry about regarding something that had nothing to do with him?
“Xian-ge, Yan-ge, where are we going today?” Lin Min emerged from the room, having already grown accustomed to deferring to Xian Chengyue in everything.
Xian Chengyue: “Resting today.”
Lin Min: “…… But the chickens……”
Xian Chengyue: “They’ll turn up.”
Lin Min fell silent for a good long while before nodding: “Then I’ll go wash my face.”
Sun Hao finally emerged from the room after Lin Min left the courtyard. Wearing that same self-righteous, chip-on-his-shoulder, ready-to-explode expression, he didn’t even bother greeting Xian Chengyue and the others, storming out of the courtyard all by himself.
Sun Hao strode out grinding his teeth; he no longer wanted to die he suddenly had a premonition that he was the one destined to find the chickens.
Those two people spent all their time hanging around Xian Chengyue, yet hadn’t Xian Chengyue failed to find a chicken either?
Once he found the chicken, they’d be the ones swarming around him.
Everyone looked down on him; yesterday they actually hadn’t called him along when they went out, and Lin Min had only asked him two perfunctory questions how dare they?!
Looked down upon outside, and looked down upon after coming to this ghost place?!
Sun Hao walked alone along the country path, spotting a group of villagers heading toward the well. Without thinking twice, he charged straight over.
He blocked their path.
The villagers asked strangely: “What is it? Something the matter?”
“We’re busy going to fetch water.”
“The fields need watering, move aside.”
At this moment, the villagers looked rustic and naive. With his brain overheated by impulse, Sun Hao shouted loudly: “Which of your families raises chickens?!”
The villagers exchanged glances: “Our village hasn’t raised chickens in ages.”
“There’s barely enough grain for people to eat, let alone feed to livestock.”
“You want to eat chicken? You’ll have to go buy one in town, people only sell them in town.”
“I remember a chicken costs a whole silver dollar to buy, and a catty of rice is only twenty copper cash!”
Sun Hao felt a splitting headache from their noisy chatter, his eyes turning bloodshot as he roared: “Did you guys hide the chickens?!”
The villagers, who had been yapping nonstop just a moment before, suddenly fell silent.
The expressions vanished from their faces, and countless pairs of eyes stared fixedly at Sun Hao standing right before them.