As the two’s identities were confirmed, the system’s full announcement began sounding in every player’s ears.
[Background loading… Location: Anning Village.]
[Participant count: 7.]
[Clear Condition: Complete a sacrificial ritual.]
[Warning: Any of the seven players may become the sacrificial victim.]
[Identity assignments as follows: River God, Priest, Sacrifice, Village Chief, Spy, Daoist, Executioner.]
[Loading complete. Game begins.]
When Fu Songcheng regained consciousness, he felt his whole body tightly wrapped in icy, bone-chilling water.
He opened his eyes and found himself sunk at the bottom of a dark, deep body of water.
As the “Evil God,” he was restricted by the instance rules, trapped within the waters.
However, this clearly wasn’t enough to trouble Fu Songcheng.
Back in the A Thought of Old Dreams instance, he’d already learned some feng shui and geomancy. Now, combined with the Evil God identity, the arts he’d learned could be put to maximum use. Fu Songcheng closed his eyes and completely relaxed.
His perception spread outward bit by bit along the current, and soon his consciousness transformed into a weightless soul body, silently detaching from his submerged physical form and floating up to the surface.
The soul body rose into midair, and the entire instance’s terrain lay before him.
It was an ancient village built by the water, surrounded by mountains, the trees so dense they blocked out the sky, completely isolating this place from the outside world.
Fu Songcheng’s first instinct was to look for his believer, Yu Huaiting.
But Yu Huaiting really wasn’t hard to find.
Wherever it was most chaotic, that’s where Yu Huaiting was most likely to be.
Sure enough, Fu Songcheng’s soul body hadn’t drifted in midair long before he locked onto an especially grand residence at the center of the village—also the noisiest in the whole village.
He’d barely drawn near the courtyard wall when he heard a huge boom from inside, along with the sound of a wooden door shattering.
Fu Songcheng sighed and peeked into the courtyard—
Just in time to catch Yu Huaiting holding his greatsword high, chasing an NPC like a villainous thug, slashing madly.
This was also the first time Fu Songcheng had witnessed Yu Huaiting’s destructive power. In their previous instances together, Fu Songcheng had never let him cut loose.
He hadn’t expected that the moment he wasn’t at Yu Huaiting’s side, Yu Huaiting could stir up this much trouble.
Fu Songcheng called up the system communication panel in his mind and sent Yu Huaiting a message.
[Fu Songcheng: Take out my Sympathy Doll.]
In the courtyard below, Yu Huaiting was raising his greatsword high, the broad blade refracting a cold, grim light. The NPC villager cornered against the wall made a desperate counterattack, but was ultimately no match.
The greatsword fell, killing the NPC.
Just as Yu Huaiting was looking for his next target, his system panel flickered—the special-concern message notification sound.
The killing intent around Yu Huaiting instantly dispersed. He gave a light cough, put the greatsword back into the system, and with his other hand fished a palm-sized cloth doll out of his system backpack.
In midair, Fu Songcheng’s mind stirred. His soul body instantly transformed into a wisp of faint light, diving straight down like a falling meteor, precisely and unerringly sinking into the Sympathy Doll’s brow.
Yu Huaiting felt the originally weightless cloth doll in his palm suddenly grow heavier. Then the doll’s eyes seemed to flash with an extremely faint ripple of light.
Its soft little limbs suddenly had strength—it braced itself in Yu Huaiting’s broad palm, then, with practiced agility, climbed up his arm and in a few moves scrambled onto Yu Huaiting’s broad shoulder, sitting down steadily.
“Behave yourself.”
A cool, low voice, carrying a hint of helplessness, sounded directly in Yu Huaiting’s mind.
Along with the voice, the cloth doll sitting on his shoulder extended its short, rough little arm, grabbed Yu Huaiting’s still-reddened ear, and tugged hard downward.
Though the doll’s strength was slight—soft and squishy, almost like acting coquettish—Yu Huaiting still cooperatively tilted his head, letting it tug, the corner of his mouth even curving upward.
“Fine. Don’t just start hitting people the moment you arrive.”
Yu Huaiting answered in a low voice, the obedience in his tone a complete contrast to the thug who’d been raising a greatsword to kill moments ago.
“I know, Songcheng-gege. This old man was sneaking around burning some note just now. I asked him, and he muttered a bunch of gibberish I couldn’t understand, so I drew my sword.”
Yu Huaiting explained quietly, his finger gently touching the doll’s hand on his shoulder.
Fu Songcheng sighed from inside the doll.
“First, my situation—I’m the Evil God. Currently, my true body is restricted, completely sealed at the bottom of the waters outside the village, unable to move.”
Fu Songcheng quickly explained his circumstances, then asked Yu Huaiting: “And you?”
“I’m your priest, of course.” Yu Huaiting grinned cheekily. Only when Fu Songcheng raised a hand to knock him—limited by the doll’s form—did he reply properly:
“Anning Village has suffered continuous floods these past few years. The villagers believe the god—you—is enraged. So as the priest, I’m in charge of presiding over the upcoming sacrifice, offering a ‘bride’ to the river to appease the god’s wrath.”
“That bride should be the ‘Sacrifice’ identity in the system.” Fu Songcheng nodded. “But the ‘Sacrifice’ identity doesn’t necessarily mean passively waiting to die. The system’s warning mentioned that anyone could become the sacrificial victim.”
“The Sacrifice player’s task is probably to find a scapegoat?”
Yu Huaiting found that reasonable. “So we just need to cooperate and complete the sacrificial ritual?”
Fu Songcheng shook his head—he didn’t think it would be that simple.
“I’ll go check on the other players’ situations. Be back in a bit.”
The doll stood up on Yu Huaiting’s shoulder and tugged his ear.
“Message me in the system if anything comes up.”
With that, the light in the doll’s eyes instantly dimmed.
Fu Songcheng’s soul body detached once more, transforming into a gust of yin wind that drifted lightly out of the courtyard.
Yu Huaiting felt the subtle change in weight on his shoulder. He reached out and carefully took down the soul-less Sympathy Doll.
He gently shook the doll in his hand. Its limbs hung limply, without any reaction.
Yu Huaiting stared at the doll’s rough face for two seconds and couldn’t help pouting in dissatisfaction.
He hadn’t even had time to say a few more words, and off he went.
On the other side, Fu Songcheng’s soul body left the courtyard where Yu Huaiting was and began wandering the labyrinthine alleys of Anning Village.
The village’s atmosphere was oppressive. Every household had its doors and windows tightly shut, the air thick with a strong smell of water and the musty odor of years without sunlight.
Just as he drifted past a fork in the road, he caught sight of a figure hugging the base of a wall, hurrying toward the river outside the village.
The person moved with extreme caution—stopping every few steps to look back and confirm no one was following before continuing.
Fu Songcheng immediately followed.
When the figure reached the riverside, by the faint moonlight, Fu Songcheng made out her face.
It was a player he knew—Lu Xiao.
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