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Bonus chapter! Thank you to --- for the donation! ^^
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Through the live stream, the red tips of the shoes could clearly be seen pointing downward—as if someone had hanged themselves just behind and above Ruan Qing.
But everyone knew that wasn’t the case, because only a pair of red embroidered shoes had appeared, looking eerie and terrifying.
That was no human at all!
The so-called village chief might not have died of illness—she might have been hanged!
Because only those who were hanged would have their shoe tips pointing downward, and it had to happen while they were still alive for it to look like that.
The audience in the live stream broke out in a cold sweat, frantically urging Ruan Qing to run. But Ruan Qing seemed completely unaware of the shoes. Even when he accidentally glanced upward, he showed no reaction.
The viewers were stunned, flooding the chat with confusion.
[What’s going on? Can he not see them? Why isn’t he reacting at all? Maybe he didn’t look up properly?]
[He did look up just now. He probably can’t see them. If he could, he’d lose his mind—he’s terrified of ghosts. There’s no way he’d stay this calm.]
[Stay calm, everyone. The village chief might not hurt him. He’s his only son, after all. Maybe he’s protecting him? Look, the shoes haven’t moved at all—doesn’t seem like they’re trying to harm him.]
It was true that NPCs in the game sometimes protected players, but the sight of those red shoes made it hard for the audience to believe this was protection.
Red usually signified a vengeful ghost.
The fact that it hadn’t attacked yet was likely just due to the game’s restrictions. Early stages of the game suppressed the boss—it wasn’t that the boss didn’t want to act, but that it couldn’t.
...Perhaps once the ghost fully manifested, it would mean death for the player.
Ruan Qing really hadn’t seen the shoes, nor had he noticed anything above and behind him. After reading the newspaper reports about Miao Village, he turned his attention to the strange, symbol-covered ghost money.
The paper was very old and seemed specially made. Despite the passage of time, the red pigment hadn’t faded. Its texture and smell were different from the ghost money burning in the treasure basin outside.
This paper likely didn’t belong to Miao Village, just like the newspaper.
And it might not even be ghost money at all—it could be some kind of talisman.
Ruan Qing wasn’t well-versed in talismans, but he could memorize any pattern he touched.
The symbol on the paper was unfamiliar; he was sure he’d never seen it before. Yet, it reminded him of the talisman Qiao Nuo had given him.
It seemed... to be targeting ghosts.
Ruan Qing’s slender, pale fingers tightened slightly, the pressure turning his fingertips white. Eventually, he suppressed the unease in his eyes, grabbed the items, and quickly left the room.
Time was running late—he needed to find Miao Ciyu to help resolve the gu poison issue.
Miao Ciyu’s residence wasn’t hard to locate, and Ruan Qing found it quickly. But Miao Ciyu wasn’t home.
After knocking for a long time with no response, Ruan Qing pressed his thin lips together, staring at the tightly shut door. Left with no choice, he waited under the large tree beside the gate.
Yet even after what felt like an eternity, long enough for the sun to dip westward, Miao Ciyu still hadn’t returned.
Surrounded by mountains on all sides, Miao Village was shielded from sunlight, casting the entire area in an eerie gloom. Danger and ominous energy seeped from every corner.
It was as if the village had transformed into a completely different place from its daytime counterpart.
Faint rustling noises lingered in the distance, but upon closer listening, there was nothing—no sounds, no figures in sight.
Initially calm, Ruan Qing grew increasingly unsettled as the sun descended. A creeping dread prickled at his skin, his hair standing on end.
It felt as though something was watching him from the shadows—something dark, viscous, and brimming with an uncontainable aggression.
His heart began to ache, its pounding so loud he could hear it himself, as if something inside was gnawing at it.
It was the zhongqing gu. The setting sun excited the poison.
Ruan Qing didn’t know what would happen when the gu grew agitated. Clutching his feverish chest, he forced himself to stay composed.
The gu seemed to thrive in darkness, which meant nighttime in Miao Village... was lethally dangerous.
He needed to find a safe place to wait out the night.
And he already had one in mind.
Abandoning his wait for Miao Ciyu, Ruan Qing turned and hurried back to the original owner’s home, taking advantage of the last remnants of daylight.
That house was the safe zone.
Ruan Qing had found it suspicious earlier—if the gu was so active at night, how had the original owner survived unscathed the previous evening?
When the original owner’s mother was alive, her protection had warded off the gu’s lethality. That made sense.
But last night, the mother was already dead. Yet the original owner still hadn’t fallen victim to the gu. That... was highly unusual.
The original owner’s house must have had something that could suppress the gu worms.
It was… the burning ghost money.
The moment Ruan Qing stepped into the original owner’s house, he was certain of this.
Because the moment he smelled the burning ghost money, he suddenly felt his heart grow much more comfortable. Even that dark, sticky gaze had completely disappeared.
The ghost money in Miao Village was used to suppress gu worms.
Ruan Qing finally understood what Miao Lin Yuan had meant and fully grasped the purpose of the cleaning task. The reason the villagers of Miao Village were so eerie was likely that they all had gu worms planted inside them.
These gu worms must have posed some danger, and after the villagers died, they would probably burrow out of the corpses. That was why they needed to constantly burn ghost money to suppress the gu worms—and why there was a cleaning task to check whether any gu worms had crawled out of the bodies.
The ghost money in the treasure basin was still burning. Someone must have added more while he was away.
Even though there was already plenty of ghost money in the basin, Ruan Qing added another handful, as if doing so would give him a greater sense of security.
The sky grew darker, and the only remaining light came from the flames of the burning ghost money in the mourning hall.
Darkness could easily cloud judgment and make it hard to detect danger in time. Ruan Qing decided to look for a candle.
But the moment he stood up, he sensed something approaching from behind.
Someone was there!
Ruan Qing’s heart lurched. Without thinking, he pulled out the small knife he’d taken from the kitchen and stabbed backward without hesitation.
If it were an ordinary villager coming to pay respects, they wouldn’t deliberately muffle their footsteps—nor would their gaze carry such… aggression.
Yet before Ruan Qing could turn around, a hand seized his wrist from behind, rendering him completely immobile. Not only that, another hand clamped tightly over his mouth, stifling any sound he might make.
“Mmph—!” Ruan Qing’s eyes widened in panic. Instinctively, he tried to break free from the man’s grip.
But the man’s strength was overwhelming. Ruan Qing couldn’t budge at all. With just a slight squeeze of his wrist, his hand went limp, all strength draining away.
The next second, the knife clattered to the ground with a sharp, ringing sound—jarringly loud in the silent night.
Fear and unease filled Ruan Qing’s eyes. Before he could react, the man wrapped an arm around his waist, trapping him against his chest.
Ruan Qing couldn’t break free. He couldn’t even pry the hand off his mouth. Desperate, he struggled wildly, trying to make enough noise to alert anyone nearby.
This was the mourning hall, where villagers could come to pay their respects at any moment. Any sound made here would undoubtedly attract their attention.
However, the man's strength was unexpectedly overwhelming. Ruan Qing’s feeble resistance was completely futile—he couldn’t even turn his head, let alone see who was behind him.
From the intensity of his struggle, coupled with the hand over his mouth, a mist of tears welled in Ruan Qing’s eyes. His delicate face was tinged with a flush from lack of oxygen, and under the flickering candlelight, he exuded a haunting, flickering beauty—so stunning it took one’s breath away.
Like a fully bloomed atropa belladonna—deadly and intoxicating. Even knowing it led to death, no one could resist him.
It was a seduction born from death itself.
The man’s hand had been wrapped around Ruan Qing’s waist. Because of the struggle, Ruan Qing’s clothes had shifted, riding up enough that the man’s hand came into direct contact with his warm, soft skin.
The man's breath caught. The next second, he kicked over the incense burner in front of the coffin, extinguishing the only source of light in the mourning hall and plunging the entire room into darkness.
Everything was now swallowed by shadow.
The blackness consumed the hall entirely, endless and oppressive, spreading a sense of suffocating fear and unease.
Once he confirmed that nothing could be seen, the man released his hand from Ruan Qing’s mouth. He then grabbed Ruan Qing’s wrist and forcefully turned him around, pulling him into his arms.
In the next moment, he pinned Ruan Qing against the coffin, gripped his pale chin, and kissed him.
“Mmm…”
Ruan Qing instinctively tried to lean back to avoid him, but the coffin was directly behind—he had nowhere to go. He couldn’t even shift sideways.
Then, the man bent one knee, forcefully wedging his leg between Ruan Qing’s, making it impossible for him to close his legs or summon any strength.
His breath stolen, his most vulnerable parts threatened, Ruan Qing’s struggles grew weaker. He could only let the man kiss him as he pleased.
“No… mmm…” Tears welled in Ruan Qing’s beautiful eyes. He looked small and pitiful, no trace of the arrogant and willful demeanor he’d shown during the day.
Perhaps that arrogance had always been a fragile mask. Without his mother’s protection, he was just a trembling little lamb among wolves. No matter how hard he tried to pretend, a true predator could see right through him.
But this wolf hadn’t torn off his disguise right away—instead, he treated him gently, patiently, waiting for him to lower his guard… before devouring him completely.
What reason would a cruel, merciless wolf have to speak of fairness with a helpless lamb?
The man’s gaze on Ruan Qing darkened, unable to hide his desire. Just as he was about to go further, footsteps echoed from nearby—someone was approaching.
Some villagers came to the mourning hall to add ghost money.
Upon hearing the noise, Ruan Qing used all his strength to struggle, trying to make a sound to attract the villagers’ attention.
However, the man seemed to see through Ruan Qing’s intention. He immediately pinned his hands and half-dragged, half-carried him toward the corner room that belonged to the original owner.
Ruan Qing wanted to resist, but his strength was too weak—he couldn’t break free from the man’s grip. With reddened eyes and tears welling up, he could only let himself be pulled into the room.
