“Stop looking.”
Fu Songcheng closed the book with a snap, put it back among the moldy books as it had been, and stood up. “We have to leave here immediately.”
“Leaving already?”
Yu Huaiting was a little reluctant to stop, but he’d just gotten his way and was being very obedient now. He straightened up and followed. “What did you find?”
“A guess, not certain yet.”
Fu Songcheng pulled Yu Huaiting quickly to the side room door. Looking at the violently broken brass lock and the seal torn in two on the floor, he turned to Yu Huaiting. “Do you have any items that can restore damaged traces? Restore this lock and seal.”
Yu Huaiting was taken aback, then spread both hands with perfect justification. “No.”
Fu Songcheng’s brow twitched. “Not a single one? Restoration-type, disguise-type items—the shop should have plenty.”
“I never waste points buying those.”
Yu Huaiting scoffed. “Run into a door, smash it open; run into a person, chop them down.”
Fu Songcheng looked at his utterly lawless manner and raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile.
“Then you stand guard here, don’t make any noise. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Fu Songcheng lowered his voice to instruct him, then turned and slipped into the night.
Relying on his memory from the daytime and the cover of darkness, he quietly made his way to the Yu residence’s storeroom.
Outside the storeroom was only one dozing servant.
Fu Songcheng didn’t disturb him. He climbed in through the window and quickly rummaged through the clutter. Before long, he found a stack of blank seals and spare paste.
He returned the same way, pasted the brand-new seal back onto the side room door, and pieced the brass lock Yu Huaiting had crushed back together as best he could, hanging it on the door hasp.
As long as no one walked up close and pulled at it carefully, from the outside, this side room looked as if it had never been opened.
That done, Fu Songcheng and Yu Huaiting silently returned to their room.
That night, Fu Songcheng had no trace of sleepiness.
He lit a dim kerosene lamp and spread the I Ching and feng shui books he’d smuggled from the study across the table, reading straight through the night.
He was going to set up a grand formation for Lin Feng and Chen Yu.
Yu Huaiting lay on the bed propping his head up watching him, until Yu Huaiting couldn’t hold on and was about to fall asleep. Only then did Fu Songcheng finish preparing and climb into bed.
Yu Huaiting was so drowsy he had no romantic thoughts left. He hugged Fu Songcheng and fell deeply asleep. The two slept until the sun was high.
…
Meanwhile, Source Star.
Shen Ning held a glass of red wine, lounging lazily on a leather sofa.
On the massive holographic projection screen before her played the feed of Fu Songcheng’s solo broadcast room.
Watching the youth on screen quietly leafing through ancient feng shui texts under the lamp, Shen Ning’s red lips curved slightly, her eyes full of satisfaction.
“President Shen, your eye for people really is sharp.”
The assistant standing beside her respectfully handed over a data report. “Newcomer Fu Songcheng’s viewership performance has indeed far exceeded expectations.”
Shen Ning took the report and casually scanned it.
To confirm that “Zhang Xinci” was Fu Songcheng, she’d gone to considerable effort.
The original data was all encrypted within Quan Heng’s company. Investigating the details while avoiding Quan Heng’s surveillance had taken no small amount of scheming.
But she’d still found the teammate who’d given her a beautiful dream.
Instance No. 632, Return to the Living World, was Shen Ning’s own story. She’d shared her story with the designers, who’d turned it into a Death Party instance.
In reality, she’d taken her classmates back to Ya’nan Village. And unsurprisingly, the female classmates were forced and kept in the man-eating village, while the male classmates gradually shed their civilized veneer in the village, turning a blind eye to the women’s suffering.
She’d always remembered—because she too was one of the executioners.
It was the village secretary who’d given her the idea to send the girls to Ya’nan Village to teach. She’d earned her filthy first pot of startup capital by trafficking innocent girls.
Even after Shen Ning achieved fame and fortune, did countless charities, and led those girls away from the mountain village, she still couldn’t forgive herself.
So she entered the instance over and over.
Savoring her own sins and karma, enduring endless pain and punishment.
But this time, with Fu Songcheng, she’d finally done what she’d always wanted to do but never dared—even if it was just a beautiful dream, she’d truly saved those NPCs.
As if returning to the past and saving her cowardly, selfish former self.
She was still steeped in sin, but she’d gained the courage to move toward the future.
Shen Ning sighed, swallowed against her tight throat, and brought her attention back to Fu Songcheng.
Fu Songcheng was not only extremely intelligent, but exceptionally calm.
In this faction confrontation instance bound by the “lover” tie, he hadn’t chosen to sell out his emotions in pursuit of victory or defeat.
Death Party had been designed from the start to encourage players to explore instances as much as possible and restore the story. It had later invaded Blue Star in the form of an infinite game, but at its core it still followed the principle of exploration and puzzle-solving.
Fu Songcheng was a player favored by Death Party.
“How’s his popularity right now?”
The assistant pushed up his glasses and answered rigorously: “Mixed. The polarization is very severe.”
Shen Ning raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Some viewers—mainly Yu Huaiting’s devoted fans and some old-school viewers who revere absolute force—think he’s a burden. They feel he restricts Yu Huaiting’s performance and that he’s utterly unworthy of being Yu the God’s lover.”
The assistant paused, then continued: “The other half—mostly female viewers and technical players—love him. Most comment on his ‘intelligence online, cool and decisive.’ He and Yu Huaiting have a lot of shippers too.”
Shen Ning listened and smiled faintly.
“Then help him boost his popularity.”
“President Shen, you mean?”
“Invest in this player’s solo broadcast.”
Shen Ning’s index finger tapped lightly on the tabletop as she issued the order. “Have someone edit his and Yu Huaiting’s combat footage together with that clip of them in wedding attire bowing in the ceremony.”
“After it’s edited, just buy traffic and push it onto the trending list.”
“Understood. I’ll handle it immediately.”
The assistant’s execution was swift.
That very night, a montage video titled “Mad Dog and the Blade Holder” landed at the top of Source Star’s trending list in the infinite game Death Party section.
In the video, one second showed the two in bright red wedding attire, bowing eerily yet tragically in a gloomy mourning hall; the next second, heavy metal music kicked in, and the scene abruptly cut to the two coordinating to kill.
Yu Huaiting, already firmly among the top popular players, came with a massive built-in audience—and both of them were stunning in figure and appearance.
Shen Ning only gave it a push from behind, and the video’s views easily broke a hundred million within a few hours.
The name of newcomer Fu Songcheng, along with his identity as Yu Huaiting’s lover, saw his influence soar overnight.
…
Inside the instance, broad daylight.
The town’s streets were bustling, hawkers’ cries endless.
Lin Feng, in a gray long gown and a felt hat pulled low, wove through the crowd.
And at his side, Chen Yu—visible only to him—leaned weakly against his shoulder, drifting slowly forward with his steps.
Chen Yu’s soul body appeared a semi-transparent grayish-white.
Ever since being trapped by Yu Huaiting’s soul-guiding yesterday, Chen Yu had become very weak, only slightly better when near his lover.
After deducting the mortgaged 23% love value, Chen Yu’s soul body strength had dropped even further.
“A-Yu, bear with it a little longer. We’ll win soon.”
Lin Feng looked at Chen Yu’s nearly transparent cheeks with heartache, lowered his voice, and soothed him gently.
Chen Yu shook his head and forced a grin. “Brother Lin is the best!”
They’d left the Lin residence early this morning and come to town precisely to gather more information.
The Lin residence had no more clues.
Lin Feng walked to a tea stall, dropped a few copper coins, and while drinking tea, pricked up his ears to listen to the townsfolk’s chatter.
“Did you hear? Miss Fu’s wedding ran into the Lin family’s funeral!”
“Tsk tsk.”
“How could I not? This Miss Fu is famous in our town as a proper lady—well-read, gentle and virtuous. That Yu boy is truly blessed.”
“What do you know!”
A man beside them cut in, lowering his voice. “You think the Fu family is really some traditional scholarly household? I heard the Fu family’s reputation as several generations of imperial examination graduates stopped working long ago. Behind the scenes, they’re now deeply connected with the warlords in the provincial capital!”
“Warlords? Really? No wonder the Fu family is so flashy.”
Lin Feng’s hand holding the tea bowl jolted, his eyes instantly sharpening.
The instance’s time setting was the early Republic—warlord fragmentation.
Chen Yu heard this too and tugged at Lin Feng’s long-gown sleeve.
“Brother Lin,” Chen Yu asked curiously, “the fierce-looking men who stormed the Lin residence yesterday afternoon—were they warlords?”
Being a soul body, he couldn’t approach those officers who carried killing aura, and could only vaguely see a few dark figures.
Lin Feng turned to look at Chen Yu. “Yes.”
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