Chapter 196: Filial Piety

The village houses where the elderly lived were old and desolate, only gaining some semblance of life with the arrival of the two young visitors.

Li Zhi, with her cheerful "Grandpa" and "Grandma," quickly won over the lonely elders with just a few words. By the time the dishes were cleared, one grandmother was already asking what she’d like for dinner, insisting on cooking something special for her.

The elderly were naturally curious about the city folk in the film crew, but the village chief had warned them not to bother the young people. Now that someone was willingly chatting with them about the production, they were delighted. Within an hour, Li Zhi had befriended nearly every elder in the village.

Li Jianxi watched as Li Zhi laughed and chatted effortlessly—a side of her he rarely saw. Knowing she was deliberately coaxing information from them, he occasionally found this version of her amusing.

In the afternoon, Group A finished filming at the village entrance and headed uphill. When Ning Xue passed by, Li Zhi casually asked, "That’s the female lead of our film. Do you recognize her?"

The elders, including the village chief, studied Ning Xue carefully. But Group A moved quickly, and Ning Xue strode ahead without pause. Staring at her retreating figure, one man finally said, "Don’t know her. Pretty girl, though. If I’d seen her before, I wouldn’t forget."

The grandmother stitching shoe soles chuckled. "With your memory? You can’t even remember where you left your keys. Stop bragging."

"That girl looks young. Ten years ago, she’d have been just a child. Our village hasn’t had youngsters in over a decade, let alone kids. Definitely haven’t met her."

As the elders debated, Li Zhi turned to the silent village chief. "Chief, do you recognize her?" She added gently, "Her surname is Ning. Ning Xue."

The chief tapped his pipe. "Don’t know her." He paused, his aged voice hesitant. "But she does look familiar."

In fact, he’d thought so when he first saw Ning Xue at the village entrance.

At his words, the shoemaking grandmother suddenly exclaimed, "Now that you mention it, she does look familiar! Have we seen her in some TV drama before?"

Li Zhi had learned from the director days ago that this was Ning Xue’s first acting role—she was a debutante with no prior works.

Gently guiding the forgetful elders, she asked, "Could she be related to someone from the village? Do you know her parents or grandparents?"

"Not possible," the grandmother said firmly. "No one here has the surname Ning."

The village chief’s eyebrows twitched. Li Zhi didn’t miss it. "Chief, you’ve heard that surname before?"

The chief hesitated before answering slowly, "Our village has no Nings. But Luo Jiafu’s son married a Ning once."

"Luo family?" Li Zhi pressed. "Which family is that? Are any of them still in the village?"

The chief shook his head. Another old man cut in, "They moved away years ago. That old house you’re filming in? That’s the Luo family’s place."

Li Zhi’s gaze shifted to the tiled house bustling with crew members. A thread of understanding began weaving together in her mind.

The shoemaking grandmother paused her work, straining her memory before suddenly slapping her knee. "She looks like Luo Jiafu! That’s it! Decades since I last saw him, and now his daughter’s all grown up!"

All eyes turned to Ning Xue’s distant figure. Complex emotions flickered across the elders’ faces.

Li Zhi brought up the sealed ancestral portraits in the old house. "While filming in the Luo house, we saw two portraits—her grandparents, right? But Ning Xue didn’t seem to recognize them. In fact, they scared her."

"Her grandparents died before she was born. Of course she wouldn’t know them." One man sighed. "What a coincidence. Luo Jiafu left decades ago without returning, and now his daughter’s come back first."

"Ning Xue is still young," Li Zhi said curiously. "Her grandparents would’ve been around your age. How did they pass so early?"

The elders’ eyes darted about. No one answered immediately, all instinctively looking to the village chief.

Exhaling smoke, the chief said impassively, "Old Luo and his wife were never healthy. Fell ill early, died early. Just fate."

Another man quickly agreed. "Yes, yes! Just fate. Otherwise, they could’ve lived in the city with Luo Jiafu, enjoying their golden years."

After all, Luo Jiafu’s daughter was a star—well-dressed, beautiful, clearly raised in luxury. The family must be wealthy.

The conversation lapsed after a few sighs.

Li Zhi and Li Jianxi stayed with the elders until late afternoon. Thrilled to have young company after so long, the elders were reluctant to let them leave. Only when it was time to prepare the crew’s dinner did Li Zhi stand to go, prompting a chorus of invitations to visit again.

"This water vat’s empty." Noticing the village chief’s retreating back by the door, Li Zhi smiled at the grandmother. "Let me fill it before we leave."

By the time the chief turned back, the two youngsters were already hard at work. After a moment’s pause, he walked away.

The village’s water vats were heavy and thick. It took nearly ten buckets to fill one. As Li Zhi bustled about, the shoemaking grandmother at the stove watched her with reddened eyes, quickly wiping them when Li Zhi turned.

Patting her hands dry, Li Zhi grinned. "All full, Grandma. I’ll head out now."

"Ah! Thank you, dear! Grandma’s making braised pork tonight—make sure you eat plenty!"

"Will do, Grandma." At the door, Li Zhi suddenly turned back. "Oh, Grandma, I heard the chief say the burial custom was abolished in his generation? So no one your age was ever... sent to the jar graves, right?"

The grandmother stiffened, avoiding her gaze as she scooped water. "Yes, long abolished." She murmured, "Those were desperate times. What a sin."

Only when they were well away did Li Jianxi say quietly, "She lied."

Li Zhi nodded. "Ning Xue’s grandparents likely didn’t die of illness. They were the chief’s generation—shouldn’t have been victims of the burial custom. There’s more to this."

As they discussed, crew members rushed past pushing a cart stacked with blue bricks. When Li Zhi stopped them, she learned the director was building a replica jar grave on the mountain for filming.

"We’re shooting the grave relocation scene tomorrow. Can’t dig up the real ones, so everyone’s helping up there."

Li Zhi and Li Jianxi followed them uphill to the burial site. Beside the weed-covered mounds, the crew’s replica grave was already taking shape.

The director had consulted the chief on dimensions. The prop grave was identical to the real ones—cramped, impossible to stand in, barely wide enough for two to lie side by side.

Staring into the dark opening, then at the sealed graves nearby, the crew shuddered.

Trapped in those airless tombs, unable to move or escape, left to starve—what inhuman cruelty.

With a dozen people working, the grave was soon complete. After placing prop skeletons inside, they began sealing the entrance with bricks salvaged from the old house. By the time they finished, dusk had fallen.

Clapping his hands, the director announced, "That’s it for today. Back for dinner. We’ll continue tomorrow."

Darkness made the wilderness graveyard even eerier. No one lingered, all hurrying downhill.

Night filming at the old house proceeded cautiously after the previous death. The director double-checked the set, while Peacock and Tianwen members eyed each other warily.

Perhaps due to everyone’s vigilance, the day passed without incident. Wrapping at midnight, the director clapped in relief. "Great work, everyone! We’re over halfway done. Let’s keep it up tomorrow!"

Before dispersing, Li Zhi reminded them, "Once you’re in your rooms, stay there. With everything that’s happened, it’s safest not to wander alone."

Though aimed at the oblivious NPCs, the players agreed emphatically.

"What if we need the bathroom?"

"Use a bucket!"

Amidst the laughter, everyone returned to the dormitory. The compound soon fell silent as people washed up and settled in.

Li Zhi had expected the eerie clicking sounds to return, but she fell asleep without hearing anything unusual. Some time later, a steady knocking jerked her awake.

In the dark, both siblings opened their eyes simultaneously.

As Li Feng’s breathing grew tense, the knocking continued—patient, unhurried. When no one answered, it shifted to the next room.

The muted rapping came from the right—where the young woman from the van slept. A NPC, not a player.

Would she open the door?

Holding their breath, they soon heard a groggy voice. "Who is it?"

Li Zhi sat up.

From beyond the door came a young voice—raspy at first, like a parrot learning speech, but smoothing into perfect mimicry of another crew member’s tone by the end.

"Maomao, it’s me. Open up."

The thin walls carried every sound—the shuffle of slippers, footsteps approaching.

Li Zhi threw off the covers. "The ghosts grow stronger with each victim. We have to stop it."

But by the time she reached the hallway, the neighbor’s door was already closing.

Drawing her curved blade, Li Zhi knocked firmly. "Maomao! Open the door!"

After a pause, the lock clicked. Light spilled into the hallway as the door opened.

Maomao stood there in pajamas, backlit and calm.

"Can I help you?"