Chapter 143: Butterfly Village
Nie Miao instinctively wanted to refute, “But we just saw two tourists with kids on the road…”
She paused, realizing that Li Zhi was referring to the people in the village, not the children brought by tourists. Along their way, they’d only seen a few scattered children, all being held or led by visiting tourists.
But in Butterfly Village itself, among the native locals, there wasn’t a single child in sight—no infants, no toddlers, no kids running through the streets.
She glanced at Xu Yan and found that Xu Yan showed no surprise at all after hearing Li Zhi’s observation. It was clear she had already noticed this as well. Nie Miao, feeling a bit indignant, tried to argue, “Maybe school’s not out yet?”
Li Zhi didn’t argue with her. “Let’s keep walking around. It should be close to school dismissal time.”
After that, Nie Miao started paying careful attention to their surroundings.
And the more they walked, the more she realized Li Zhi was right. Even if older children were in school, why hadn’t they seen a single baby or toddler in the entire village?
No, it wasn’t just that.
Throughout their walk, they hadn’t seen any elderly people either.
This was a village without the very young or the very old. Everyone here seemed to be within the range of young adult to middle age.
On either side of the road were various shops, all with villagers inside, each bearing visible butterfly tattoos. Some were strange, some vibrant, but all the villagers smiled warmly at passing tourists. The tattoos on their bodies seemed to move faintly as they breathed, making Nie Miao feel increasingly uneasy.
A terrifying thought crept into her mind: Could it be that the children and elderly of this village have all been fed to some butterfly monster? They sacrifice people to the Immortal Butterfly in exchange for eternal youth! And now that there are no children or elderly left here, they lured us here as the next offerings?
Li Zhi nodded gravely. “That’s definitely a possibility.”
Nie Miao looked like she was about to burst into tears and immediately clung to her. “Zhi-jie, you’re so amazing—you’ll definitely protect me, right?”
Li Zhi: “…”
She regretted scaring her now. Why dig her own grave? Ugh.
Butterfly Village was large, and its paths were complicated. After circling around several times, the three of them somehow ended up back at the inn. It was already nearing dusk, and since they were back, they didn’t bother going out again.
As they stepped into the inn, Yin Fu was behind the counter, casually playing with an abacus. Seeing them return, she greeted them with a smile, “You’re back! How was your walk?”
Li Zhi smiled back. “It was nice, the scenery’s lovely.” She paused and then added with a puzzled expression, “But we noticed something strange.”
Yin Fu’s fingers stopped moving on the abacus. “Oh? What’s that?”
Li Zhi looked at her. “Why aren’t there any children or elderly in this village?”
Yin Fu chuckled. “So that’s what you’re wondering about. Although the scenery here is beautiful, we lack educational and medical resources. Families with children usually send them away to study elsewhere. It’s not a good place for retirement either—there’s only one clinic in the whole village. Colds and fevers are treatable, but anything more serious, and we’re helpless. That’s why most of the people here are young adults.”
“I see,” Li Zhi responded with a smile.
Yin Fu’s expression remained warm. “Exactly. Are you hungry? It’s almost dinnertime. Why don’t you relax in the lobby? I’ll have the chef start preparing your meal.”
“Thank you,” Li Zhi replied politely.
Yin Fu gracefully left. As she walked away, Li Zhi’s gaze fell on the large butterfly tattoo on her snow-white back, right between her shoulder blades. The tattoo was larger than the ones on other villagers. Its golden wings spread across her slender back, and with every step she took, it seemed as if the butterfly itself were softly flapping its wings, exuding an enchanting beauty.
Xu Yan clicked her tongue. “No wonder her ex-boyfriend is still hung up on her after all these years.”
The three of them sat in the softly lit lobby. After Yin Fu disappeared, Xu Yan leaned in closer to Li Zhi. “That explanation was plausible, but you know it’s not that simple.”
Nie Miao was still convinced the children and elderly had been fed to the Immortal Butterfly. As they waited for dinner, other players gradually returned. Seeing Li Zhi in the lobby, they gathered around and exchanged information.
Unfortunately, after just one afternoon, no one had discovered any truly useful clues.
As night fell, the other tourists returned to the inn as well. These were the real tourists—NPCs, only here to sightsee. Ironically, they seemed to be enjoying themselves more than the players.
Tao Tao was among them. Seeing Li Zhi, she smiled and waved. “Come look at my tattoo.”
She lifted her wrist to show a small golden butterfly tattoo, but now it was badly swollen and far from beautiful.
“It did hurt a bit during the coloring,” Tao Tao explained gently to the curious tourists. “If you have a good tolerance for pain, you can try it.”
They chatted casually for a bit before Yin Fu and two other attendants came out from the back with dishes. Butterfly Village was known for its ecology and butterfly culture, but the food itself was just typical homemade fare.
Looking at the plates before her, Nie Miao hesitated. “You don’t think there’s something wrong with the food, do you?”
She had already shared her human-sacrifice theory with the other players, making them wary as well. “What if it’s drugged? What if we pass out and get sacrificed while we sleep?”
Jiao Shen, sitting nearby, laughed, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and took a bite. “What, are we supposed to starve for seven days?”
He wasn’t wrong—if the food was poisoned, dying a day later wouldn’t really change anything. Still, apart from Jiao Shen, Nie Miao and two other players didn’t touch their chopsticks during the whole meal. Missing one meal wouldn’t kill them, and they figured they’d reassess tomorrow.
Li Zhi, still feeling weak, wasn’t very hungry either. She forced down half a bowl of rice to regain some energy and then stopped. By the time dinner was over, night had fully fallen, and everyone returned to their rooms.
Li Zhi had barely been in her room for a few minutes when there was a knock at the door.
Thinking it was Nie Miao again, she opened it to find Han Wenlin standing there with two bananas in hand. “Zhi-jie, I noticed you barely ate at dinner. Tao Tao gave me these earlier. They should be safe. If you get hungry later, eat them.”
Li Zhi smiled and took them. “Thanks.”
Han Wenlin scratched his head awkwardly. “No need to thank me. Alright, I’ll get going.”
“Be careful,” Li Zhi reminded. “Stay alert tonight. Don’t sleep too deeply.”
“Got it.”
Butterfly Village, already quiet by day, became utterly silent at night. Unlike other tourist towns bustling with nightlife, shops here shut down as soon as the sun set. Xu Yan stood by the window, peeking outside, and found that the streets were completely empty.
The empty ancient street echoed only with the wind stirring dry leaves, and a few butterflies rested on the windowsill, their wings trembling faintly in the breeze.
After checking the locks on the windows, Xu Yan drew the curtains tightly shut and returned inside. Li Zhi finished washing up, pulled the bloodstained baseball bat from her inventory, and placed it on the nightstand between their beds. “This is for you. I don’t have the strength to use it. If something happens tonight, you’ll have to handle it.”
Xu Yan picked up the bat and gave it a few practice swings. “Feels good in the hand. Don’t worry—I’ve got you covered.”
They turned off the lights, and the room dimmed. Neither of them spoke. The bamboo house wasn’t soundproof; occasional footsteps could be heard from the floor above, but even that noise gradually faded as it got later.
Lying in bed, Li Zhi felt her head spinning, her consciousness sinking into a heavy fog. She wasn’t sure if she had fallen asleep or simply passed out.
She didn’t know how long she slept. She had never slept so deeply inside an instance before. In a daze, she heard someone calling her name: “Li Zhi! Zhi-zhi! Wake up.”
Struggling to open her eyes, she saw Xu Yan’s anxious face under the faint light. Xu Yan held one of her hands and pressed the other against her forehead. Seeing her awake, she finally sighed in relief, but her tone remained tense. “Zhi-zhi, you’re burning up. I have to take you to a doctor.”
Li Zhi was feverish to the point of delirium. She bit her tongue to force herself awake. “Do we have a thermometer?”
“I checked—none. We don’t need one anyway. You’re burning up like a furnace. I can feel it with my hands—you’re easily over 40 degrees.” She handed her a glass of water. “If this fever doesn’t break, it’s going to get dangerous. There’s a clinic here. We need to go.”
Li Zhi drank the water, her throat feeling scorched. Her clothes were drenched in sweat, and even her pillow was soaked through.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Xu Yan glanced at the clock on the wall. “Half past midnight.”
Li Zhi shook her head slowly. “It’s too late. It’s dangerous to go out now. I can’t move properly, and if we run into ghosts, you won’t be able to handle it alone.”
“But this fever could kill you!” Xu Yan was anxious. “The chance of you dying from this is higher than us running into something!”
“Wait.” Li Zhi’s voice was hoarse but firm.
She reached into her inventory and pulled out a blank map—a special item she had redeemed after clearing a previous instance. After chanting a spell softly, the map gradually filled in with the layout of the area within a 100-meter radius, with a cooldown of 48 hours.
Xu Yan came over and watched as streets and paths slowly took shape on the paper.
She quickly recognized it. “It’s a map of the area around the inn.”
The map formed a rough layout centered on the inn, and scattered across that map were several red footprints.
Xu Yan’s face paled. She pointed at the center. “That’s… the inn?”
Li Zhi hadn’t expected things to be this bad either. “There’s a ghost inside the inn.”
Her burning fingers brushed over the rest of the map. “And within this 100-meter range alone, there are over a dozen ghosts. We can’t go out.”
Xu Yan whispered, “That many? Could it be… the butterflies?”
Li Zhi shook her head and put the map away. “Try using physical cooling first. Get me a basin of cold water.”
There was no other choice. Xu Yan quietly went to the bathroom, filled a basin, and began using a soaked cloth to cool her down. Seeing Li Zhi’s pale, weak face, she still wasn’t reassured. “Should I go find Yin Fu? Maybe she has medicine—or even just alcohol.”
Li Zhi grabbed her wrist firmly, eyes sharp. “What if Yin Fu is the ghost?”
Xu Yan sat back in frustration. She’d been prepared for danger coming from outside—she hadn’t expected her teammate to fall ill.
The cloth on Li Zhi’s forehead heated up quickly. Xu Yan kept soaking and replacing it, listening to Li Zhi’s hoarse whisper: “Don’t you think… this feels like rejection symptoms?”
“What?”
“I got sick too suddenly. Perfectly fine on the bus, then uncomfortable right after entering Butterfly Valley. I think something mixed with the butterfly powder got into my system. Maybe something is laying eggs inside me, which is why I’m burning up.”
The description made Xu Yan break into a cold sweat. “But why only you?”
“Two reasons,” Li Zhi whispered faintly. “Either I was specifically chosen, or you guys aren’t sensitive enough to notice.”
Just imagining something laying eggs inside her made Xu Yan’s skin crawl with goosebumps.
She wanted to keep talking, but when she looked down, she realized Li Zhi had fallen unconscious again, her breathing shallow. Xu Yan swallowed her words and focused on cooling her down.
As the long night dragged on, Li Zhi’s fever finally lowered a little. Xu Yan was about to return to her bed when she glanced at the curtains—and froze.
A massive shadow loomed across the fabric, its shape unmistakably that of a gigantic butterfly. It stood outside the window, slowly flapping its enormous wings, stirring the air, causing the glass to vibrate faintly under the pressure.
Xu Yan sat perfectly still, hand slowly covering her own mouth and nose, then gently covering Li Zhi’s as well to muffle their breaths.
Li Zhi’s burning breath scalded her palm. Xu Yan glanced at the baseball bat on the nightstand, calculating the quickest way to grab it if the creature broke through the window.
How long did it last—one minute, two? She didn’t know.
Finally, there came the distinct sound of wind, and the shadow flapped its wings and flew away. The silhouette disappeared, and Xu Yan collapsed weakly back onto the bed.