Chapter 190: Filial Piety

​​​The director, unable to shake off Ning Xue’s demands and fearing she might throw a tantrum that would displease Mr. Li—neither of whom he dared offend—had no choice but to agree to her request. He went to ask the village chief if they could clean out an empty house for her to stay in.

The village chief was surprisingly accommodating. "You mentioned earlier you needed an old, unused house for filming. We’ve already prepared one. You can move in tonight if you want. Though it’s an old house, it’s not much better than the factory building."

Good or not, it was the young lady’s own choice. The director thanked him profusely.

The players settled into their rooms before nightfall, sticking to the same groupings as the previous night at the hotel. Lu Caiwei was still rooming with the Li siblings.

The factory building, constructed with plastic-steel panels, had only a single room. The villagers had already cleaned it, and though it was crude, it was tidy. The moment Li Zhi entered, she removed the mirror hanging on the wall, wrapped it in cloth, and stuffed it under the bed.

The square room was straightforward, with no hidden corners or unexpected mirrors to worry about.

The crew set up lights and tables in the open yard outside the factory building. When the village chief and others brought over the prepared meals, dozens of crew members gathered in the yard to eat.

The village chief and two other elderly villagers were invited to stay and even brought out homemade liquor from their cellars. Raising his glass, the chief looked around at the youthful faces and grew emotional. "Our Songqin Village hasn’t been this lively in years. Thank you all for coming! You’re most welcome here!"

The food, prepared by the elderly villagers, wasn’t gourmet, but the abundance of ingredients spoke to their generosity. There were braised pork knuckles and red-braised pork—dishes typically reserved for special occasions in the countryside.

Lu Caiwei watched the three frail elders, her heart heavy. "Chief, living here must be hard, especially with medical care so inaccessible. You’re at an age where you should be retiring. Why not move in with your children?"

On their way in that evening, they’d noticed the village was populated solely by elderly留守 (left-behind) residents, with no young people in sight. Before the crew arrived, the village didn’t even have running water—villagers had to fetch it from the well themselves.

The village chief lowered his wrinkled eyelids slightly. "We’ve tried. But city life doesn’t suit us. We’re more comfortable in the countryside."

Was the countryside, with all its inconveniences, truly more comfortable than the city’s modern amenities?

Sometimes, the realities depicted in dungeons were chillingly true to life.

Li Zhi suddenly set down her chopsticks. "Chief, why is this village called Songqin Village? Is there a story behind it?"

Most villages were named after local families or geographical features, like Liujia Village or Guanping Village. But "Songqin" sounded like it was tied to a custom.

A crew member chimed in curiously, "Does ‘songqin’ mean sending daughters off to marry? Was this village known for marrying off its girls?"

The two elderly villagers beside the chief paused mid-bite, their weathered faces tightening with discomfort. They clearly didn’t want to discuss it.

But the chief took a slow sip of liquor and finally spoke, his voice trembling with age. "The ‘qin’ in Songqin Village doesn’t mean marriage. It means ‘family.’"

"Family?" The crew member was even more confused. "So it’s about sending family members away?"

The chief gave him a look, his cloudy eyes tinged with self-mockery. "Young man, have you heard of ‘songqin caves’?"

The table fell silent, everyone’s curiosity piqued. Only the director poured himself another drink, savoring it leisurely.

The chief’s aged voice continued slowly, "‘Songqin caves’ is just a polite term. They’re actually living graves. You send a living person inside, bring them one meal a day, and add a brick to seal the entrance each time. Once the entrance is completely sealed, the person inside is considered buried."

Ning Xue, who had been picking at her food disdainfully earlier, was now too shocked to care. "So you’re starving them to death inside?!"

Li Zhi’s eyes flickered. "Tile-graves."

The chief glanced at her and chuckled. "This girl knows her stuff. Yes, because the entrance is shaped like a tile jar, ‘songqin caves’ are also called tile-graves."

He sighed, took another sip, and squinted. "Our village has always had the ‘songqin’ custom. That’s why it’s called Songqin Village."

Night had fallen, and a cold breeze swept through. Ning Xue shivered inexplicably, her teeth chattering. "Then… the people sent inside were…?"

Who exactly was being "sent away"?

The chief didn’t answer immediately. The director spoke up instead. "Parents, of course. Once they turned sixty and could no longer work, they became a burden to their children. So the children sent them into the tile-graves to starve to death."

His eyes gleamed with excitement. "That’s the theme of our movie. That’s why we’re filming here. Shooting in a village with real ‘songqin’ customs will give the audience an immersive, authentic experience."

The director had been revising the script constantly, and even now, the crew didn’t know what kind of horror movie they were making.

Only now did they realize it was about tile-graves.

Ning Xue was stunned. "Director, didn’t you say this movie had a profound theme, completely different from other horror films?"

The director was unapologetic. "Our theme revolves around ‘filial piety.’ It’s nothing like those lovey-dovey plots. Isn’t that profound enough?"

Ning Xue: "……"

She had no rebuttal.

A timid crew member shuddered. "Director, isn’t it a bit… taboo to film a ‘songqin cave’ story in Songqin Village?"

Wasn’t this outright provocation?

The director glared. "Shame on you, a grown adult raised under the red flag, spouting superstitious nonsense! Besides, we’re making this movie to expose outdated customs! To speak for the parents who were sent into tile-graves by their own children! We’re doing a good deed!"

Despite his words, after dinner, the director gathered the crew for instructions. "Before filming tomorrow, prepare incense and paper offerings. Not for superstition, but out of basic respect for the deceased."

The crew nodded eagerly. "Understood. We brought plenty of offerings."

As everyone cleared the tables and chairs, Ning Xue ordered Jiang Can to move her luggage to the cleaned-up old house.

The players exchanged uneasy glances. Zhao Yangzhou whispered, "If she stays in that old house alone, won’t something happen?"

NPCs in the dungeon had no concept of the supernatural, but after hearing about the "songqin caves," the players knew the danger this time likely stemmed from them.

Countless parents, sent to their deaths by their own children at sixty—who knew how much resentment lingered in this village?

If something happened to the female lead, how would they finish the movie?

But after witnessing Ning Xue’s temper over the past two days, no one dared approach her, unsure what insults they’d endure.

After some silent deliberation, they unanimously pushed Lu Ao forward. "Brother Ao, you’re the male lead. Go talk to her. That old house isn’t any better than the factory. If we stay together, we can watch out for each other if something happens."

For once, Lu Ao felt the weight of responsibility. Steeling himself, he approached the female lead, who was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, directing Jiang Can.

"Xue," Lu Ao said with concern. "We’re new here and don’t know the area. Staying together is safer. It’s too dangerous for you to stay there alone. Why not stay in the factory?"

Ning Xue kicked her heel against the pillar and gave him a haughty look. "None of your business. Let me make this clear—we’re only playing lovers in the movie. My ‘undying love’ for you is just acting. Don’t get any ideas."

Lu Ao: "???"

He pointed at her, face flushing with anger, but mindful of the dungeon’s plot, he held back and stormed off.

Watching his retreating figure, Ning Xue snorted, as if his reaction confirmed her suspicions. "Who does he think he is?"

Viewers outside the dungeon nearly died laughing:

​​[How does it feel to be rejected, Young Master?]​​
​​[Ning Xue, I swear—her disdain knows no gender. Queen stays supreme, don’t even look at her.]​​
​​[Serves you right, Lu Ao! How the tables have turned!]​​

Li Jianxi’s room was next to Li Zhi’s. The director had it specially cleaned and furnished. Seeing Li Zhi still outside, he hurried over and pulled her aside.

Though the director had been kind from the start, treating even minor actors with warmth, his demeanor now held a hint of deference, which amused Li Zhi. "What is it, Director?"

The director rubbed his hands. "About the script revisions—I’ve been reviewing them, and I think your role needs adjustments!"

Li Zhi smiled. "What kind of adjustments?"

The director straightened. "You’re the female lead’s best friend. Shouldn’t you accompany her in everything she does? So from now on, whatever Xue does, you do too. What do you think?"

He was offering her more screen time.

Li Zhi found it both funny and pitiable. She gently declined. "That’s unnecessary. Let’s keep it as is." To reassure him, she added, "I’m not here to chase fame—just to experience acting. Let the professionals handle the heavy lifting. I’m happy as a minor character."

The director was moved to tears. "Zhi, you’re a true artist! On behalf of the entire crew, thank you!"

If Li Zhi had been as domineering as Ning Xue, leveraging her "investor" status, the production would’ve been doomed.

Reassured, the director relaxed and discussed upcoming plot points with Li Zhi. Their lively conversation went unnoticed by Ning Xue, who watched from a distance, her eyes burning with resentment.

Fuming alone, her phone suddenly rang.

The signal here was spotty. Glaring at the caller ID, Ning Xue answered irritably. "What now? I told you I’m filming—stop calling me!"

A male voice, fragmented by poor reception, came through: "...Where are you?... At least check in... If something happens..."

Ning Xue yelled into the phone. "If you really cared, you’d send more money so I can increase my investment! Otherwise, my scenes will be stolen by another actress!"