Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Qin Wen patted his brother’s shoulder without speaking. Qin Wu seemed comforted by the gesture and quieted.

“Sister Miaomiao, Qin Wu is right. These villagers are looking at us like…” Lin Zhu searched for the words.

“Like livestock waiting to be slaughtered for a holiday feast,” Qi Jiajia finished coldly. She had climbed down from Qin Musong’s shoulders and now held the hem of Cheng Miao’s shirt like a little tail.

Qin Musong swept his wolflike gaze over the villagers. Frightened by the blade in his eyes, they withdrew their unsettling stares.

There was no denying that Qin Musong’s presence lifted more than half the weight from Cheng Miao’s mind. One hell of a fighter could solve many problems.

In the previous instance, for example, Qin Musong had not deciphered every rule or hint. He had simply forced his way through with overwhelming strength and survived to the end.

Cheng Miao thought of her Fishbone Dagger and felt exhausted. She wanted to try a brute-force build for once too.

The Village Head led the way, seemingly oblivious to the villagers’ gazes. “We’ve prepared three rooms for you. You’ll have to squeeze in.”

The group stopped before three old houses. After telling them someone would deliver food at mealtime, the Village Head clasped his hands behind his back and walked away.

“So… how do we divide the rooms?” A sunny young man among the newcomers looked at the houses, then back at the group, who clearly had not united. His head began to hurt.

Veteran players with established teams already stood together. Those who had entered alone showed no interest in forming new alliances and kept to themselves.

The newcomers alone wavered. Living with veterans would feel safer, but choosing someone malicious might hand over their lives instead.

They agonized without reaching a decision.

“We’ll take this one.” Cheng Miao did not waste time with them. Sunset was still some time away, and the ancestral ceremony began tomorrow. She wanted to explore the village.

When the strongest fighter entered the room on the far right, several people grew eager to follow. Qi Jiajia’s poisonous tongue and haughty temperament made them hesitate again.

While the newcomers still deliberated, someone moved.

Cheng Miao watched Lian Ge sway toward them like a dancer, a peony blooming by mistake in a lotus pond. Her beautiful face remained indifferent, and her husky, syrupy voice sounded like sand stirred into sugar. “I’ll stay with you. Do you mind?”

Cheng Miao arched one elegant brow and smiled. “Not at all. Welcome.”

Around strangers, Cheng Miao generally wore an expressionless face. Her sudden smile stunned half the group.

Only Qi Jiajia rolled her eyes, while Qin Musong and Lin Zhu looked equally complicated.

Other people might not know, but they did. Cheng Miao cared about looks. She liked anyone attractive.

The corner of Lian Ge’s mouth lifted slightly. She waved and headed in the direction the Village Head had taken.

Cheng Miao ignored how the others divided the remaining rooms. She and her companions scattered through the village to search for clues.

Evening had arrived. Cheng Miao strolled behind an old yellow ox returning home. It flicked its tail, glanced at her, then continued on its way.

She followed the ox into a narrow alley. It entered the courtyard at the very end, but Cheng Miao did not immediately follow. During their walk, she had roughly mapped the route in her mind.

The village was small and arranged like a grid. She now stood at the top of the grid’s left side. This felt like the wealthier district, with many livestock returning home along the road.
Cheng Miao returned to the village center and chose another road. This one had almost no animals, not even much barking. Many houses stood empty and abandoned.

She selected a house with an open gate and walked inside. No one had lived there for years. The place held no trace of daily life, and thick dust covered the furniture.

In the storeroom, Cheng Miao found bamboo strips and cotton paper for making lanterns. She placed some in her Space Backpack. On her way out, she noticed a broken little lantern hanging beside the well.

The lantern had rotted until only its frame remained. Its cotton-paper covering was gone except for one small corner.

Cheng Miao touched the remnant and marveled that even this lantern felt so fine.

When they arrived, the Village Head had explained that the village’s lanterns were famous chiefly for their materials. Ordinary families used cotton paper or oil paper. Wealthy families could afford silk or specially made fabric.

The volunteers learning to make lanterns would receive only cotton paper. The special fabric was a village secret and never shared with outsiders.

Cheng Miao put down the lantern and left, yet she could not shake the sense that she had overlooked something, like the raised corner of a sticker that should have lain perfectly flat.

She shook her head and continued deeper along the road. Then she noticed a tightly locked house with a lantern hanging outside.

The previous alley had been busy, while this one was desolate. Cheng Miao was considering how to climb up and touch the lantern when the door creaked open from within.

A gaunt old man stuck his head out. His cloudy eyes widened when he saw Cheng Miao. “Who’re you? What’re you doing outside my house?”

Cheng Miao became perfectly well behaved in an instant. In a soft, gentle voice, she said, “Sir, we’re the volunteers who came to help make lanterns.”

Understanding dawned. The old man chuckled, revealing teeth stained yellow by smoke. “How’d you end up all the way out here? My place is so remote. There’s nothing worth seeing.”

Cheng Miao found that strange. Every other villager had looked at the players like a weasel spotting chickens and seemed eager to invite them inside. This old man showed no intention of allowing her through his door.

“Sir, may I come in and talk? The Village Head said we could look around and experience the local customs.”

Cheng Miao lied without blinking. The Village Head had not forbidden them from leaving their rooms, which meant visiting neighbors was permitted.

The old man clearly feared the Village Head. At Cheng Miao’s words, he reluctantly opened the door.

She entered. The household truly was poor. An ancient yellow dog lay sunning itself on the ground. When Cheng Miao came in, it merely raised its head, glanced at her, and went back to sleep.

Cheng Miao sat on a low stool and chatted with the restless old man. “Do you live alone, sir?”

“My daughter lives here too.” The old man pointed his pipe toward the house. Through a half-open door, Cheng Miao saw a woman sewing a quilt.

“Sir, I’ve heard this village makes excellent lanterns. Is there some secret to them?” Cheng Miao picked up an ear of corn from a basket and pretended to help shell it. The dried kernels were difficult to remove, and the gesture was mostly for show.

The old man’s left eyelid twitched. He knocked his pipe against the ground and lit it. “No secret. Good materials, that’s all.”

“I also heard the ancestral ceremony begins tomorrow. Is there anything outsiders like us need to be careful about? We don’t understand the local rules.”

The old man studied Cheng Miao. His dry voice stretched out, and his expression turned meaningful. “Honoring the ancestors is important. It’s a good thing!”