Chapter 41: "Lienü Village"
Chi Yi instantly snapped awake, a cold sweat breaking out across her back as she heard the eerie opera singing drifting from just beyond the door.
The pale blue light of early dawn seeped into the room, barely illuminating the blurry outlines of furniture. Chi Yi blinked hard to show she was fully awake, and only then did Li Zhi slowly let her go.
“Is it Fang Lin?” she mouthed.
Li Zhi nodded. “Sounds like her.”
She had already analyzed it last night—if Fang Lin, as a member of the troupe, wanted to kill after death, she would likely follow the troupe’s taboos and rules. But did anyone among them break any of those rules yesterday?
Before she could think further, the strange opera tune outside abruptly stopped. The two of them held their breath, listening carefully. Nothing but silence.
But Li Zhi had a gut feeling: Fang Lin was still out there—she hadn’t left.
Sure enough, a moment later, a heavy thudding sound echoed softly in the air.
She was knocking.
But she wasn’t knocking on their door. Judging by the direction of the sound, Li Zhi determined it was coming from the next room over—where Wen Qianxue and another actress, He Anlian, were staying.
Chi Yi realized it too. Nervously, she tightened her grip on the Time Stopper device she’d obtained in the last instance, glancing at Li Zhi to silently ask if they should go help.
Even though she and Wen Qianxue had been rivals for years, Chi Yi wasn’t the type to watch someone die without lifting a hand.
Li Zhi, however, shook her head, speaking very softly: “Wen Qianxue has her own items. She might not want us to help.”
This wasn’t just about survival—it was about popularity. By now, everyone had a few life-saving items stashed away. If someone could handle the crisis themselves and win the audience’s applause, but an outsider interfered and stole the spotlight, who wouldn’t be pissed?
Helping recklessly might not only go unappreciated—it could turn into resentment, seen as stealing someone’s show.
Li Zhi clearly wasn’t the only one thinking this. No one else stirred; the whole courtyard remained deathly still. Only the steady, unnatural knocking continued, patient and deliberate, echoing ominously outside.
But that knocking didn’t sound like it was made by a hand. Rather…
Before she could finish that thought, two sharp, terrified screams pierced the night—cut off abruptly, as if smothered mid-cry. A loud crash followed, then the sound of something being dragged across the ground.
Li Zhi leapt from the bed. “Let’s go!”
They burst out of the room, just in time to see a ghostly figure in a blue opera costume slip through the decorative doorway. Behind her trailed two long white silk sashes, dragging along the limp bodies of Wen Qianxue and He Anlian, their necks tightly bound by the fabric.
A flash of gold—a pair of scissors—flew from Wen Qianxue’s hand, clattering uselessly to the ground. There was a flicker of despair in her eyes as she was dragged away.
Chi Yi lunged forward, trying to grab her, but caught only the edge of her shoe.
Li Zhi dove and grabbed the scissors, sprinting after the retreating silks.
“Zhizhi!” Chi Yi called after her in panic.
Another door burst open. Pink Hair and his two teammates charged out, wild-eyed. “What happened?! Where’s Li Zhi?!”
Chi Yi had no time to explain. She ran after Li Zhi.
The dragging speed was fast, but the maze-like compound wasn’t easy to navigate. Obstacles littered the floor—door frames, decorative rock gardens, uneven flagstones. The victims’ bodies bumped against everything, slowing their captor down enough for Li Zhi to close the distance.
At the final gateway, they reached the well—the same one they’d fetched water from.
Li Zhi caught up to Wen Qianxue, diving on top of her to use her own weight to slow the dragging. Wrapping the silk twice around her arm, she pulled it taut and slashed with the scissors.
But even in those few seconds, Wen Qianxue had been dragged meters further. The moment the silk binding her throat was severed, she tumbled free, collapsing on the ground, gasping hoarsely for breath, clutching her bruised neck.
The cut silk seemed furious, twisting itself around Li Zhi’s wrist, tightening like a snake.
By the well stood Fang Lin—floating, toes barely brushing the ground, her thick stage makeup making her red lips look bloodier than fresh wounds.
Li Zhi switched from cutting to stabbing, driving the scissors into the fabric wrapped around her wrist and yanking downward. The silk tore with a harsh ripping sound, and Fang Lin let out a sharp, eerie sound, part sob, part laughter. The torn silk recoiled toward her like a snake, but before Li Zhi could grab it, with a plop, He Anlian was dragged into the well.
Fang Lin’s mournful song echoed softly as she drifted away, her feet skimming the ground like a marionette dangling from an invisible string.
Chi Yi and the three dyed-haired teammates finally caught up, just in time to see Li Zhi lunging to the edge of the well. All she saw was the faint swirl of sinking cloth. The well’s mouth was far too narrow for a rope or bucket to support an adult’s weight. They could only watch helplessly as the water rippled, then stilled.
Behind them, Wen Qianxue’s ragged sobbing broke the silence.
Viewers in front of their screens, who had been holding their breath throughout, finally exhaled with that single sob:
【Friendly reminder: Remember to breathe while watching.】
【See? Tools are only as useful as the person using them. Wen Qianxue had those scissors and still almost died.】
【He Anlian had that high-jump item too, and it didn’t help at all. The silk dragged her down mid-jump—crippling or killing, either way.】
【Timing is everything with these props. You can’t rely on them blindly.】
【Why didn’t Li Zhi go out to help sooner?! Waited until they were dragged off first. Speechless.】
【Maybe even Li Zhi didn’t expect her teammates to be that incompetent.】
【Some of you sound ridiculous—just because Li Zhi’s strong doesn’t mean she has to save everyone. With great power comes great responsibility? Save that nonsense for your Marvel movies.】
【This is a solo competition. Saving people is kindness, not obligation. Stop with the moral blackmail.】
【Honestly, Li Zhi shouldn’t have bothered. Now she’s on the hook—every death afterward will be blamed on her for “not helping.”】
【So you’d rather they all just stand by and let others die? Then what’s the difference between the players and the monsters in these games?】
【Li Zhi reminds us that life is precious. People shouldn’t grow numb to death, even here.】
…
Chi Yi helped Wen Qianxue to her feet. The dark purple bruises around her neck were hideous, and even her cries were hoarse.
Pink Hair still looked shaken. “Will she come back again?”
Li Zhi checked the sky. “It’s almost dawn. Probably not.”
They headed back. By the time they reached the courtyard, the rest of the players had gathered, tense and silent, eyeing the survivors.
“Which rule got triggered? We’ve been together the whole time.”
They’d risen together, washed together, eaten together, and spent the whole day gathering information on Zhenzhen. Everything had been done as a group.
Suddenly, Li Zhi turned to stare at the courtyard’s water jars. “Who was the first to fetch water from the well yesterday morning?”
Everyone froze. Wen Qianxue’s face paled. Hoarsely, she answered, “Me and Anlian.”
They’d gotten up early, trying to earn screen time by cleaning the dusty jars first. That was when they’d drawn water—from the same well, around this same hour.
Pink Hair forced a smile. “We just looked at the well earlier—we didn’t actually fetch water. Should be okay, right?”
No one answered him.
With He Anlian gone, no one dared use that water again. Fortunately, they’d filled the jars the day before—if rationed, it would last a while.
Losing a teammate weighed heavily on everyone’s spirits. Even those secretly pleased to see one less competitor didn’t show it on their faces. Li Zhi returned the golden scissors to Wen Qianxue. She was still shaken, glancing at Li Zhi and Chi Yi awkwardly.
Of all people, she’d assumed Chi Yi would want her dead the most.
She never expected the first two to risk their lives to save her would be them.
Guilt burned in Wen Qianxue’s throat. Bowing her head, she murmured, “Thank you…”
Chi Yi also felt a bit awkward. After all, they’d been bitter rivals for years. She swallowed the complicated emotions, pretending nonchalance. “Hold onto those scissors. Might want to practice using them properly.”
Wen Qianxue nodded.
Li Zhi asked, “What exactly happened after the knocking started? Did the silk appear out of nowhere?”
Wen Qianxue shivered, voice rough. “Our beds face the door. We heard knocking, but no one was outside. I figured, better to act than sit and wait—I had the scissors anyway.”
She’d been hoping to seize some glory. Chi Yi was already riding Li Zhi’s coattails, and Wen Qianxue wanted to one-up her by single-handedly banishing the ghost. But…
Her voice trembled. “I opened the door—no one there. But the knocking didn’t stop. Then I realized—the sound was above me…”
She had looked up and seen a pair of embroidered opera shoes dangling overhead. A passing breeze swayed the feet, tapping them against the door, producing that slow, dreadful knocking sound.
Li Zhi finally understood why that knocking had felt so wrong from the start.
The rest she could already piece together herself. After a few words of comfort, the sky fully brightened. The troupe stirred awake in the rear courtyard, and soon it would be time to eat before they headed out to meet Zhenzhen’s grandmother.
Following Zhenzhen’s directions, it took about twenty minutes to reach a courtyard with a large osmanthus tree out front.
Inside, a small, dark-skinned girl was struggling to push a heavy stone mill, her body half the size of the grinding wheel, face flushed with effort.
Seeing the strangers, she shrank back behind the mill and shouted, “Grandma! Someone’s here!”
From the house emerged a hunched old woman carrying a sieve. Pink Hair whispered, “Isn’t that the old lady who wouldn’t let us sit in the front row at the opera that night?”
The old woman’s features were stern, her pale, cloudy eyes making her seem harsh and unfriendly. Still, her voice remained passably polite. “You with the opera troupe? What do you want with an old woman like me?”
Chi Yi smiled sweetly. “Grandma, we’re friends of Zhenzhen. She told us to come.”
The old woman’s expression darkened. “Nonsense! Zhenzhen’s never left this village. What friends? Go, go, go—get out of here!”