​​Chapter 33: A Lesson​

​From childhood, Li Feng had always been the one standing in front of them.

As the eldest brother, he took on the role of a father after their dad passed away. He meticulously arranged life and work for his two younger sisters, shouldering more responsibilities so their mother wouldn’t have to worry as much.

Back when he was in the military, he had significant potential for promotion. His superiors admired him, but his unit was stationed in a remote border region, where he could only return home once a year on leave. To climb higher, he would have had to stay there indefinitely.

After their father died of cancer, with both sisters still in school, Li Feng made the resolute decision to leave the military. He returned home, found a local job, and helped their mother bear the burden of raising them.

Li Feng was a man of few words—stoic, with a stern face that made him seem intimidating when silent. Li Shuang used to be afraid of him, but Li Zhi never felt that way. She could see the care in his calm eyes.

She had always listened to her brother.

But this time, Li Zhi stood firm, rejecting his demand: "Having one player in the family is enough."

Li Feng frowned, hesitating. "You saw what just happened. More and more people will become players and enter these instances. It’s the inevitable trend. The world is only going to get more dangerous..."

"I’ll protect you!" Li Zhi cut him off decisively, her gaze unwavering. "I’ll keep you all safe. You stay in the real world. No entering the instances."

Li Feng stared at her. "You protect us—then who protects you?"

Li Zhi replied, "I can protect myself. Didn’t you see that?"

He fell silent, and she continued coolly, "The real world will only grow more dangerous. If we both become players, who will take care of Mom and Shuangshuang? My visibility is increasing. What if someone with ill intentions comes for us while neither of us is here?"

She knew exactly where to strike.

Sure enough, Li Feng relented. "Fine. We’ll listen to you for now."

Li Zhi exhaled silently in relief.

Like her, once her brother made a decision, it was hard to change his mind. In that stubbornness, she truly resembled a child of the Li family.

Fortunately, she knew his weakness—just as hers was family.

Now that she was grown, she could stand in front of them too.

Li Feng’s frown eased. "Let’s go buy crabs. With everyone stocking up lately, we’ll miss out if we’re late."

Li Zhi quickened her pace.

The neighborhood market was always packed, supplies running thin. Ordinary people had no grand ambitions—just to live well, fed and clothed. So at the slightest hint of trouble, they hoarded food. With official warnings to stay indoors, supermarket shelves were often emptied.

Luckily, crabs were still plentiful. They didn’t keep long, weren’t filling, and were expensive—more of a luxury. But because Li Zhi loved them, the Li family cooked them often, and Shang Jinru had mastered the art of preparing them.

They bought the remaining crabs from the tank. When they returned home, Li Shuang had already learned about the street attack from the internet.

Though the livestream had been quickly taken down, many viewers had recorded it. News of Wang Xiang’s public assault had spread everywhere, and screenshots of Li Zhi from the stream were circulating online.

The moment they stepped inside, Li Shuang rushed over. "Sis! Are you guys okay? How could something like this happen just from buying crabs?!"

Li Zhi reassured her, "You know how capable your brother is."

Li Shuang scowled. "How can people like that exist? He should be executed!" She fumed. "Things are chaotic enough as it is. If others start copying him, this world is done for!"

Li Zhi suspected the authorities would soon adjust their response.

Sure enough, before dinner, an official announcement condemned such heinous acts for attention, emphasizing zero tolerance. Given the extraordinary circumstances, Wang Xiang would face immediate execution as a deterrent.

Yet, as if the [Ghost] system was mocking them, less than a minute after the announcement, viewers in The Horror Variety Show livestream spotted Wang Xiang pulled into an instance.

The gap between legal procedure and execution had given [Ghost] a loophole. Wang Xiang’s entry into the instance caused an uproar, teaching the authorities a harsh lesson. The head of the special incidents department roared, "Next time something like this happens, shoot them on the spot! I’ll take responsibility for the consequences!"

Li Zhi opened the livestream on her tablet. Whether out of morbid curiosity or anger, Wang Xiang’s viewer count soared, the chat flooded with debates.

The instance had already begun. On screen, Wang Xiang looked fanatical. Li Zhi recalled rumors of a cult that worshipped the [Ghost] system. Was he connected to them?

Li Shuang gasped, pointing. "Sis! It’s Lian Qinglin! He’s in this instance too!"

After clearing the newcomer instance, Lian Qinglin, like Chi Yi, had contacted her. They’d formed a group chat with the other two survivors, though most conversations were private between her and Chi Yi.

Lian Qinglin often shared survival tips in the group, even excitedly promising to get a team card so they could enter instances together.

On screen, the moment Lian Qinglin saw Wang Xiang, he charged and punched him.

Having likely seen the news, the 19-year-old’s sense of justice flared—he was determined to teach Wang Xiang a lesson.

The audience cheered, but Li Zhi sighed.

Too impulsive.

By making an enemy of Wang Xiang so soon, he’d have to watch his back constantly. A man who’d kill in broad daylight wouldn’t hold back in an instance.

Lian Qinglin’s run wouldn’t be easy. The most Li Zhi could do was vote for him.

Chi Yi called. "Zhi! Did you see? Lian Qinglin’s in the same instance as that murderer, and he just beat him up!"

Her tone was disapproving too.

After chatting briefly, Chi Yi mentioned her new items: "A team card and a time stopper—usable only in instances. It freezes time for ten seconds, everything but the user. Not sure if it’ll be useful next time."

Li Zhi shared hers too. "I got a ghost-attracting talisman and a thorned rose."

Chi Yi paused. "The talisman makes sense, but... a thorned rose? What’s that about?"

Li Zhi sighed. "Come over tomorrow and see. Lunch at my place?"

Chi Yi agreed cheerfully.

Outside, Shang Jinru called them to dinner.

Li Zhi hung up. Li Shuang was still glued to the stream, angrily typing insults at Wang Xiang.

Li Zhi stood. "Let’s eat while watching."

Li Shuang gagged. "Use this as dinner entertainment? I’d puke!" She snapped the tablet shut.

At the table, home-cooked dishes looked inviting. Shang Jinru, who’d once restricted soda, now poured it freely. "Drink up! I bought a whole case!"

She piled the plumpest crab legs onto Li Zhi’s plate. "Eat more!"

Her heart ached. Why had she ever limited her children’s cravings? Now, who knew how long they had left?

She shoved the dark thoughts down, hiding her worry.

After dinner, Li Zhi showered and lay in bed, reopening the stream. Lian Qinglin’s large fanbase kept his popularity high. Though not the most outstanding player, his lively personality drew viewers.

On the rankings, he led by a wide margin. Among thirteen players, Wang Xiang wasn’t last—he was ninth, with votes steadily rising.

The world would never lack evil people. As [Ghost] exploited humanity’s darkness, figures like Wang Xiang would emerge, bold in their wickedness, cheered on by like-minded followers.

Li Zhi suspected the fanatical cult was behind Wang Xiang’s rise.

Instances might seem like solo battles, but with outside influence, players would form factions. Soon, someone might approach her too.

The world’s order was crumbling. By pulling a condemned man like Wang Xiang into an instance, [Ghost] openly defied authority. If this continued, governments would lose credibility, leading to complete anarchy.

In the instance, a player triggered a death condition—a falling cleaver sliced them in half.

The bisected body writhed on screen, blood pooling.

A chat message floated by:

​​[Am I heartless? Watching players die doesn’t faze me anymore. It’s like a TV show.]​​

Others agreed:

​​[Same! You get desensitized. Death isn’t shocking now.]​​

​​[I even find their deaths exciting. Maybe I’m a latent sociopath.]​​

Li Zhi closed the stream.

Wasn’t this [Ghost]’s goal? When death became mundane, ghosts and humans would blur into one.

After using the team card with Chi Yi, all they could do was wait.

Li Zhi kept up her daily training with her brother. Spurred by Wang Xiang’s attack, Li Shuang joined too. The balcony became their sparring ground.

Ten days later, Li Zhi sensed her next instance five minutes in advance.

She was beginning to understand—the more instances she entered, the earlier the premonition came. Last time, it was three seconds. Now, five minutes.

Enough time to prepare.

Dressed and ready, her family’s forced calm couldn’t mask their dread. It felt like sending her off to war.

"I’ll come back alive," she promised.

The five minutes passed swiftly. As darkness swallowed her, Li Zhi entered the new instance.

When her vision cleared, she was genuinely surprised.

Past instances had been eerie—haunted villages, ghost towns, draped in horror-movie gloom.

But this was different.

Golden wheat fields stretched under an autumn sun, fruit-laden trees bowed along the paths, and distant smoke curled from village chimneys. Farmers called to each other, heading home for meals. Life thrived here.

Li Zhi took it in when rustling came from behind. Chi Yi emerged from the wheat, wincing. "Ouch! These stalks are sharp!"