Chapter 194: Filial Piety

​​​The dilapidated old house was dimly lit by a few flickering bulbs.

According to the script, this was Xiao Xue’s ancestral home, where the group had taken shelter upon returning to the village. But on their very first night, they encountered terrifying supernatural phenomena. The team’s "green tea" character—played by Lu Caiwei—had gotten lost in a ghostly maze and fainted from fright, only to be found the next morning.

The death earlier had cast a heavy pall over the crew, but the somber atmosphere oddly suited the film’s tone.

The spotlight remained on Ning Xue. Despite her arrogance, she was professional enough to channel her fear into the performance. Her scenes required few retakes, wrapping up smoothly to the director’s satisfaction.

The only thing unsettling Ning Xue was the sensation of being watched.

It wasn’t the usual attention from her colleagues. This gaze felt sinister—like a snake’s tongue licking the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine.

But no matter how many times she scanned her surroundings, she couldn’t pinpoint the source. It was as if the watcher vanished the moment she turned around.

The unease grew, and the fear she’d suppressed earlier resurfaced.

Ning Xue suddenly wondered—could the gaze be coming from the room with the black-and-white funeral portraits?

Ignoring the ongoing shoot, she whipped around to stare at the locked room.

The decrepit doorway stood in shadow. Two hunched figures in black stood motionless at the corner, their cloth shoes as dark as the mourning clothes worn by the deceased.

They stared at her, their faces obscured by darkness, but she could swear their lips were curled in the same grotesque grins as the portraits from last night.

Ning Xue screamed, clutching her head.

The shoot came to an abrupt halt as the director and crew rushed over. "What’s wrong?!"

Terrified and pale, Ning Xue sobbed behind the director. "There! There are people—ghosts! I saw them! The ones from the portraits!"

Her words were incoherent. The director patted her shoulder and looked where she pointed, then sighed in exasperation. "Uncle Zhang! Auntie Liu! What are you doing there?!"

From the shadows emerged two elderly villagers in their sixties, their wrinkled faces sheepish. "Sorry, Director," Uncle Zhang said. "We didn’t want to interrupt the shoot, so we kept our distance."

Jiang Can studied them and whispered to a colleague, "They’re not the people from the portraits."

Ning Xue stared blankly as the director reassured her. "These are our actors playing your grandparents. They just arrived this afternoon. They’re not ghosts—just startled you, huh?"

The two elders apologized profusely. "We’re so sorry, Xiao Xue."

They seemed harmless, but Ning Xue shook her head violently. "No! It wasn’t them!"

The gaze she’d felt couldn’t have come from these two.

"Director, I…" Ning Xue wanted to quit, but seeing Li Zhi’s calm expression nearby, she swallowed her words. Forcing herself, she muttered, "Let’s keep shooting!"

Perhaps out of consideration for his traumatized lead actress, the director frontloaded Ning Xue’s scenes, wrapping her shoot early before moving on to the supporting roles.

Ning Xue was clearly unsettled, the phantom gaze haunting her throughout. By the time filming ended, she was exhausted, too drained to even boss Jiang Can around as she retreated to the factory building.

The director clapped encouragingly. "Just a few more scenes with the supporting cast, then we’re done for the day. Stay sharp!"

As the script’s designated "green tea" foil, Lu Caiwei had her biggest scene that night—a comedic horror trope where her character’s ignorance lands her in a ghostly maze, ending with her fainting in terror.

When called to set, Lu Caiwei shed her coat and winked at Li Zhi. "Gotta give every role my all. Let’s go!"

Li Zhi smiled. "Go for it."

Filming began. As a former overnight sensation, Lu Caiwei’s acting outshone Ning Xue’s by miles. The director’s gleaming eyes said it all—he was thrilled with her performance.

He couldn’t help whispering to Li Zhi, "You two are going to be huge."

Li Zhi chuckled. "Someone told me that before."

The director brightened. "Really? Guess we’ve both got good taste."

Too bad [Ghosts] had arrived before her acting career took off. In this topsy-turvy world, who’d have thought she’d become famous not for acting, but for surviving dungeons?

At least the prediction had come true. She wondered what those directors would think if they saw her now.

"Caiwei’s destined for stardom too. That face is wasted in this film," the director said earnestly. "Look at the A-listers today—none hold a candle to her. Mark my words, it’s only a matter of time."

Li Zhi grinned. "Oh, she’ll make it."

Once [Ghosts] was expelled and the world returned to normal, acting-obsessed Lu Caiwei would surely return to her first love.

This horror film stint would just broaden her range.

Time ticked by, bringing Lu Caiwei’s final scene—trapped in a quadrangular corridor, she collapses after spotting two ghostly figures at the far end: Xiao Xue’s grandparents.

Uncle Zhang and Auntie Liu, the extras playing the grandparents, rehearsed briefly. At the director’s cue, Lu Caiwei’s face twisted in panic as she fled down the corridor.

But no matter how fast she ran, the path looped endlessly. The rustling of dead grass sounded like approaching footsteps. Her character shrieked, only to freeze at the sight of two figures ahead.

Backlit by pale moonlight, their gaunt faces were tinged blue-black, their bloodless lips curled in paper-man grins. With each flicker, they drew closer.

Terrified, Lu Caiwei’s character fainted.

A padded mat cushioned her fall. As her back hit the soft surface, she glimpsed a flash of light above the corridor.

Still in character, Lu Caiwei frowned inwardly. Where’s that light coming from?

The director called "Cut!"

Lu Caiwei opened her eyes—and saw a mirror dangling overhead.

A round mirror in a red plastic frame, likely adorned with a "blooming flowers, full moon" design on the reverse. It reflected her lying on the mat—alongside a woman in a black dress and red heels.

The woman’s hands were folded over her stomach, shoulder-to-shoulder with Lu Caiwei. Noticing her gaze, the woman smiled and slowly turned her head.

"Found you."

Lu Caiwei’s face still bore her character’s terror. Her pupils dilated as the mirror plummeted.

The small mirror shattered against her face, glass shards slicing her cheeks before embedding in her carotid.

A soft pfft—the sound of blood spurting from her neck. Lu Caiwei weakly raised a hand toward the wound.

Screams erupted. Footsteps pounded toward her. Then warm, strong hands grasped hers.

"Zhi…"

Her lips moved, but the name never escaped.

Li Zhi had barely retrieved a hemostatic spray from her inventory when the hand in hers went limp.

Lu Caiwei’s eyes stayed open, frozen in disbelief. Shards of glass glittered amid her splayed black hair.

Kneeling beside her, Li Zhi clutched the unused spray, motionless.

The crowd closed in. After confirming Lu Caiwei’s death, Peacock’s members glared at the mirror shard in her neck, then at the corridor’s ceiling—where no mirror should have been.

Who orchestrated this?

Jing Da lunged at Tianwen’s members, tackling Xie Zhen to the ground. Their brawl sent the set into chaos as others pulled them apart.

Fighting in a high-stakes dungeon was a terrible idea—viewers would dock their popularity.

Once separated, Xie Zhen wiped his bloody mouth and smirked.

So what if they knew? Unless Peacock retaliated in kind, this would only damage their reputation.

The director slumped to the ground, ignored this time. "Another death… two in one night," the production assistant muttered. "Director, we can’t keep filming…"

Li Feng gently squeezed Li Zhi’s shoulder. "Zhi…"

She turned. Her ever-smiling eyes glistened, her expression brittle. "Brother, let’s bury her."

Li Feng nodded. "Okay."

He lifted Lu Caiwei’s body.

Outside, the night was pitch-black. Li Zhi’s flashlight beam landed on a lush poplar by the riverbank.

Lacking proper tools, she summoned her curved blade. They dug in silence.

At some point, Li Jianxi joined, using his bare hands to widen the grave. Crickets chirped in the grass; the air smelled earthy.

Just as Li Zhi turned to search for something, Li Jianxi handed her a bouquet of wildflowers tied with grass.

They laid Lu Caiwei to rest, the bouquet on her chest.

Damp soil soon obscured her beautiful face.

Once the grave was filled, Li Feng stood. "Zhi, let’s go back."

Head bowed, her expression hidden, Li Zhi’s voice was eerily calm. "You go ahead. Keep an eye on Tianwen. Check the camera footage—see who placed that mirror."

Li Feng hesitated, glancing at Li Jianxi.

At Li Jianxi’s nod, he finally left.

Alone by the river, Li Zhi sat silently by the mound. Li Jianxi waited patiently.

After a long while, she finally whispered, "A Xi, it hurts."

He embraced her gently. "I know." His chin rested atop her head as he vowed, "We’ll drive it out."

They’d restore this world. No one else would die in dungeons.

In that moment, though still without memories, Li Jianxi understood the choice he’d once made.

Back then, he must have felt just like Li Zhi did now—furious, desperate to rid their world of that damned system.

Li Zhi lifted her head. Moonlight revealed a lone blade of grass swaying on the fresh grave.

She touched it lightly, her voice steady again. "Tianwen’s shown their hand. They’ll pay for this."

Li Jianxi’s gaze hardened. "What’s the plan?"

Li Zhi’s eyes narrowed.

Back on set, chaos still reigned. The second death had convinced many the place was truly haunted. Who’d be next?

The panicked director couldn’t stop the exodus, even the production assistant fleeing with a final warning: "Leave now! A movie’s not worth your life!"

Half the crew vanished overnight.

Ning Xue slept through the commotion, only Jiang Can frowning at the departing vehicles.

Facing the empty set, the director turned helplessly to Li Jianxi. "Mr. Li…"

"Keep filming." Li Jianxi’s voice was icy. "I’ll take responsibility."

Other players quickly agreed. "Right! The lead’s still here! We’ve got enough people!"

The director’s head spun. "Two people died! How can we continue?!"

Li Zhi helped him up. "Two people already died. Would abandoning the film honor them? Should their sacrifice be wasted?" She pressed on, "They gave their lives for this movie."

The director gaped.

"Did you capture Caiwei’s death on camera?"

He winced. "Yes."

"Don’t you want authenticity?" Li Zhi’s voice was hypnotic. "What’s more authentic than real death?"

The director shuddered.

Artistic ambition overcame fear. Gritting his teeth, he made his choice. "Keep filming!"

Mr. Li said he’d handle the fallout!

With the director convinced, the rest fell into place. The remaining crew were investors promised profit shares—they wanted this film finished as badly as the players.

But filming was done for the night. Everyone retreated to the factory building to sleep.

The single-room dormitory’s bathroom was at the far end. After the night’s horrors, both players and NPCs locked their doors early, plunging the building into silence.

Tianwen’s members shared two rooms. From his window, Xie Zhen saw the Li siblings’ light go out. "I’m hitting the bathroom," he told Huang Jingtong.

Huang, already in bed, asked halfheartedly, "Want company?"

Xie Zhen sneered. "No."

Even Tianwen’s unity was fracturing without a leader.

Armed with items, Xie Zhen headed out.

The reeking bathroom reeked at the hallway’s end.

Holding his nose, Xie Zhen unzipped—just as a toilet flushed behind him.

He stiffened but quickly steadied.

He knew the ghost’s rules now. Ignore her, and she couldn’t harm him.

He hurried his business.

The flushing faded. Slow footsteps approached.

Then a hand touched his shoulder.

Xie Zhen didn’t turn.

A familiar laugh sounded in his ear.

Before he could place it, a mirror materialized on the stained wall before him—identical to the one that killed Lu Caiwei.

Red plastic frame. Round wall mirror.

In its reflection, he saw himself—and Lu Caiwei standing behind him.

Her ghostly fingers gripped his shoulder as she smiled venomously.