In the morning, Chao Musheng woke up feeling sore all over, as if he had been fighting someone all night. Shaking his aching arms, he pulled open the curtains—the rain had stopped.
After washing up and heading downstairs, he found his grandparents weren’t home, but breakfast had been left for him in the pot.
Just as he stepped outside after eating, he ran into Uncle Ming carrying a stool. Seeing Chao Musheng empty-handed, Uncle Ming urged him to go back inside and grab one.
"Uncle, aren’t you driving today?" Chao Musheng asked, walking alongside Uncle Ming with his stool in hand. He noticed many people heading toward the village committee office.
"Not today," Uncle Ming replied with a somewhat wistful smile. "The roads between towns are all well-built now, and there are planned bus routes everywhere. Even if I don’t drive my old bus, it won’t affect anyone’s travel."
Times were changing. With better transportation, life was improving for everyone.
He was getting older, and so was his bus.
"Don’t take too long of a break, though. In a few days, when I go back to school, I’ll still need your bus to get to the city," Chao Musheng said, flattering Uncle Ming as he helped carry the stool. "And my grandparents love riding your bus. Without you, the whole village would be stuck."
"Ah, you little rascal!" Uncle Ming chuckled, hands behind his back, letting him carry the stool. His grin revealed a row of white teeth. "Don’t worry, I won’t leave you stranded halfway."
Outside the village committee office was a large open space where the stage had been set up.
From a distance, Chao Musheng spotted his grandmother in her performance outfit, being interviewed by the local TV station along with a few other village aunties and grannies.
His grandmother was beaming in front of the camera, even performing a short segment on the spot—clearly in high spirits.
Uncle Ming took his stool and joined his wife, leaving Chao Musheng to tactfully find a spot among the kids.
The open area was packed with people. Vendors had set up stalls selling snacks, the mingling aromas filling the air, making it feel as lively as New Year’s celebrations.
"Musheng-ge!"
A few sweaty kids ran past him, waving as they went.
The last one in line dug into his pocket and shoved a handful of peanuts into Chao Musheng’s hand. "Here."
Chao Musheng pocketed the peanuts. Did they really think he didn’t know they’d secretly bought grilled sausages?
Scanning the crowd, he spotted a familiar face—Officer Little Lin, who had visited the village the day before.
Little Lin noticed him too, tossing his empty takeout box into a trash bin. "Young Chao."
He hadn’t expected a top student like Chao Musheng to come to a rural performance like this.
"Good morning, Officer Lin," Chao Musheng greeted, lowering his voice as he approached. "Any updates on that person from yesterday?"
Little Lin shook his head. "Can’t share specifics, but don’t worry—the higher-ups are taking it seriously."
Chao Musheng nodded in understanding. Noticing Little Lin stifle a yawn, he offered his stool. "Take a seat and rest for a bit."
"It’s fine. After today’s shift, I’ve got two days off." Little Lin rubbed his eyes. "With this many people, my team and I need to patrol the village."
Large events like this required coordination across departments to maintain order and keep everyone safe.
"So many people…"
The players stood among the crowd, staring at the official vehicles parked along the village road and the uniformed personnel patrolling the area. It gave them an eerie sense of displacement, as if they’d stepped into another time.
Perhaps because they were holding the small fans handed out to tourists, volunteers in red vests soon guided them to the visitor seating area.
Once seated, someone else handed them each a bottle of water.
On the left side of the stage, a banner thanked the sponsor of the bottled water.
"Better not drink that," Fatty muttered to his companions.
The players weren’t in high spirits. Unable to attend the so-called funeral, they couldn’t complete the task.
"Forget about the double rewards. Focus on surviving five days in this village and getting out alive," Lone Man said, hiding his mouth behind the fan to avoid lip-reading. "Remember how we entered this instance. Looking miserable is just asking for NPCs to notice something’s off."
Among a crowd of cheerful tourists, gloom would only make them stand out.
"There’s still nearly an hour before the show starts, and the villagers are all busy." Lone Man waited until the others masked their expressions before continuing. "I’m going to check the village committee office for records."
He suspected the village was hiding a death—postponing the funeral for this grand cultural performance.
But from what he’d gathered, while funerals could be delayed, deaths still had to be registered with the committee for official documentation.
"Bro, with this many people around today…"
"Exactly why it’s the best time to act." Lone Man tugged his cap lower and stood, pretending to head for the restroom.
Seeing him move, the other players refused to sit idle. Noticing other tourists freely coming and going, they gathered their courage and dispersed.
The NPCs didn’t stop them, only reminding them the show started at nine.
"We’ve got fifty minutes," Fatty said to Xiaoyou and the others. "Split up and regroup at the seating area by 8:50. Don’t be late."
Xiaoyou nodded. Her gaze drifted over the bustling crowd, landing on a cluster of balloons. Her expression grew distant.
When she was little, her grandmother had taken her to temple fairs just as lively as this.
"Jiejie."
A child’s voice snapped her back to reality. Looking down, she saw the little girl who had found her hairpin the night before last.
The girl wore a pretty princess dress, her hair tied up with two new clips. A red balloon tied to her wrist bobbed in the air, impossible to miss.
"Why are you alone?" Xiaoyou knew she was just an NPC, but the girl’s adorable face made her crouch down. "It’s crowded today. Don’t wander off."
"I know." The girl grinned, round cheeks dimpling as she tiptoed to whisper in Xiaoyou’s ear. "Jiejie, I’ll tell you a secret. Yesterday, our village caught a kidnapper."
A chill ran down Xiaoyou’s spine. She guessed the kidnapper was the skinny man. Avoiding the girl’s innocent gaze, she said, "Kidnappers are very bad. Remember, never talk to strangers."
"I won’t."
"Not even tourists like me." Xiaoyou’s eyes dropped to the girl’s chubby arms, the little creases at her wrists. Her parents must adore her.
Once an exploration instance was cleared, it became a permanent fixture in the infinite world, its characters doomed to repeat the same cycle forever.
The girl tilted her head, then dug two peanuts from her pocket. "Thank you, jiejie. Here, have some peanuts."
"Lulu!" A woman’s voice called from nearby.
"Mama!" The girl bounded toward her, waving. "Bye, jiejie!"
Xiaoyou stared blankly at the retreating figures of the mother and daughter holding hands, then absentmindedly cracked open a peanut shell and popped it into her mouth.
[Consumed special item: +5 HP]
Her body stiffened abruptly. She shot to her feet, eyes darting toward where the little girl had disappeared—only to see a bright red balloon bobbing through the crowd.
"Lulu." Chao Musheng spotted the crimson balloon weaving through the distance long before he recognized its owner. He gave the girl's tiny hair bun an affectionate pinch as he approached. "Princess Lulu graces us today."
"Sheng-gege!" Lulu released her mother's hand and clung to Chao Musheng's leg. "I missed you so much!"
"Oh?" He switched to pinching her chubby cheeks. "Then who was it that ignored me completely two nights ago while playing with her friends?"
"Who was it?" Lulu shook her head vigorously. "Lulu doesn't know."
Few could resist the charm of a pouting preschooler. Chao Musheng fished a hair tie from his pocket. "Remember the hair accessory I promised you last time, Princess?"
"Thank you, Sheng-gege!" Lulu bounced in place, beaming. "I love you most! Quick, tie it for me!"
Lulu's Mother looked embarrassed. "Musheng, you shouldn't spend money on..."
"Auntie, I made this promise during Spring Festival. Can't have the princess thinking I break my word." He deftly tied Lulu's hair, despite his mediocre braiding skills. "Besides, it barely cost anything."
Lulu adored her lopsided ponytail so much she wouldn't even let her mother touch it, trotting off proudly to show her friends.
With the performance yet to begin, Chao Musheng left his stool with a villager and headed for the snack stalls. Behind him, a child's wail erupted—a boy had fallen from a tree, only to be caught mid-air by a bystander.
Musheng recognized the rescuer as Xiaoyou, a guest staying at the village homestay.
Xiaoyou repeatedly refused the parents' gratitude money, flushing scarlet before bolting away. She only slowed when the praise faded.
"Stop running. There's a ditch ahead."
Xiaoyou turned, blinking. "Chao... Musheng?"
Noting her crimson ears, he guessed she'd fled from embarrassment after being thanked. He jerked his chin toward the crowd. "Show starts in thirty minutes. Push through that mob late, and you'll collect nothing but glares."
Xiaoyou gaped at the already-packed audience area. Returning to her seat meant navigating a human labyrinth.
"Follow me." Musheng led her behind the village committee building, shoving open the back door with practiced ease.
"Huh?" He frowned at the doorframe—had something been there?
"Chao Musheng, isn't this trespassing? What if there are confidential—"
"Relax. Everything's digitized now—staff need IDs and passwords just to log in." He strode through the office like he owned it. "Locals hang out here all the time. You think they'd leave sensitive documents lying around?"
Meanwhile, pressed against the wall after being door-slammed, a certain Lone Man clutching his ruined S-grade invisibility item:
...Goddamn trash-tier dungeon!
Thirty minutes later, the show commenced.
First act: Mourning Qu Yuan.
Villagers of Chaojiawan portrayed ancient Chu citizens holding a funeral for the poet—2,300 years posthumously.
Players who'd fought through the crowd to their seats heard the system chime:
[Ding! Achievement unlocked: Attend a Funeral. Reward: None (No intel gained).]
This counted as a funeral?!
Then what were they—who'd burned rare items and sweat blood for nothing—supposed to be?
A goddamn joke?!
"Your cultural event was a triumph," remarked a county official, observing several "moved" tourists in the audience staring at the stage with pained intensity. "Even moved your visitors to tears."
Players: Heh.
