Chapter 6: "Mountain Village Burial"

Setting aside its eerie backdrop, Guanping Village was simply a picturesque mountain settlement. Beyond its homes and farmland stretched dense forests of towering cypress trees—evergreen sentinels common across southern villages.

The wooden cart carrying the coffin creaked along the limestone path.

Under her companions' bewildered stares, Li Zhi explained, "Throughout history, most industries have adhered to the principle of using locally available materials."

She gazed toward the distant stone bridge spanning the ravine. "Guanping Village is remote, with treacherous mountain roads. That bridge is the only access point, making transportation extremely difficult. In such villages, everything—including coffins—would be crafted from local resources. Importing materials would be prohibitively expensive for impoverished villagers."

And cypress was Guanping's most abundant timber.

Lian Qinglin and Chi Yi had an epiphany. Livestream viewers marveled at Li Zhi's analytical approach—no wonder she'd been observing their surroundings so intently.

Cypresses lined not just the mountains but also the village paths, though stunted by poor soil and light. Li Zhi picked up a windbroken cypress branch. Its lush needles resembled wheat ears, dotted with small green cones.

Xu Shu suddenly challenged her. "You haven't explored the entire mountain. What if there are willows or pines?"

His tone carried the defensiveness of someone trying to salvage pride after a blunder.

Li Zhi waved the branch. "See this?"

Xu Shu: "...What?"

"The cones." When he remained blank, she smiled. "We have a saying: 'Willows flower but bear no fruit.' They avoid willow wood for coffins—just like they avoid satin burial clothes. No seeds mean no descendants, while fruitful cypresses symbolize prosperous lineages."

Xu Shu opened his mouth to retort when Chi Yi cut in fiercely: "At least we know willow is wrong! And the NPC's reaction proves ZhiZhi's choice was correct!"

With a dark expression, Xu Shu muttered, "I just want to complete the mission quickly."

The group hurried the coffin back.

Paper ashes swirled above the courtyard walls. Three players knelt trembling before a brazier in the mourning hall, visibly relieved at their return.

The vanished funeral director reappeared, his voice toneless: "Prepare for encoffining."

Eager to make amends, the others assisted in positioning the coffin. The village chief's body required careful placement—head, waist, and legs level as they transferred him in.

Grimacing, Li Zhi noticed the missing corpse. "Where's Zhang Xiao?"

Pei Xu shuddered. "Uncle Jiu took him."

The horror of their situation settled heavily—participants in this deadly show couldn't even keep their dead, never knowing what became of them. The village chief's golden-hued skin now bloomed with lividity as he smiled serenely.

With the coffin left open for the three-day vigil (now on day two), they needed to announce the death and receive condolences. Remembering the paper-scattering villagers, the group collectively shivered.

"Pair up to notify the villagers," Li Zhi suggested. "It shouldn't take long."

Chi Yi looked alarmed at her solitary stance. "What about you?"

"I'm visiting the ancestral hall."

As the others stared blankly, Xu Shu caught on. "You still suspect we're adopted?"

Li Zhi nodded. "The hall might hold clues."

Gao Shijun, aged by stress, paced frantically. "Why complicate things? Just follow the mission!"

Seeing their reluctance, Xu Shu unexpectedly backed her: "We must go. If Li Zhi's right, we're pursuing the wrong objective."

Li Zhi hadn't wanted to voice her theory prematurely but now explained: "The task says 'bury your family.' If we're adopted, who counts as family? The birth parents we never knew, or this village chief?"

The system had laid this trap from the very first instruction.

The revelation devastated the group. After enduring terror and losing a teammate, to learn their efforts might be futile?

"This is just speculation!" Gao wailed.

"Hence the need for proof," Li Zhi said calmly.

To her surprise, Xu Shu volunteered: "I'll go with you."

Even more unexpectedly, Zhu Zhibo and Pei Xu chimed in. Reading their expressions, Li Zhi understood—after skipping the coffin selection (and losing viewer favor), they needed a redemption arc. Mundane death announcements couldn't compete with her investigative storyline for audience engagement.

Chi Yi, unwilling to let Li Zhi risk alone time, proposed: "Let's notify everyone first, then visit the hall together?"

The plan was set.

By afternoon, slanting sunlight cast mountain shadows over Guanping Village like an upturned bowl. The group approached the ancestral hall.

Amid the village's decay, the hall stood imposingly grand. Intricate carvings adorned its pillars beneath a plaque reading "Guan Family Ancestral Temple."

Li Zhi pushed open the heavy doors.

A wave of candle-scented air greeted them. The spacious interior glowed under countless white candles burning before memorial tablets—no incense, just thin wax tapers.

The collective flame created an unnatural brightness, the cloying wax fumes thickening the air. As Li Zhi moved toward the central shrine's dusty ledger, Pei Xu suddenly screamed: "It burns!"

A blistering welt marred her hand where she'd scraped off a white glob.

Drip.

Drip drip.

Heads jerked upward.

Clustered on the ceiling writhed a viscous white mass—formless wax that stretched stringy droplets downward. Where they fell, stone sizzled.

As they watched, the substance seemed to peer back. Then it moved.

Limbs and a head emerged from the flowing wax as it crawled along the beams.

"RUN!" Li Zhi's shout broke the paralysis.

The group stampeded for the exit as scalding wax rained down. Nearing safety, Pei Xu's shriek pierced the chaos: "HELP ME!"

Li Zhi spun to see the woman trapped—her lower body encased in rapidly hardening wax.

Xu Shu shoved Li Zhi toward the door: "Go!"

Instead, she sprinted back, grabbing Pei Xu's flailing arms. Outside, Chi Yi sobbed her name.

"Please," Pei Xu begged, "don't leave me—"

With a final tug, Li Zhi wrenched her free—only to stagger back with half a corpse.

Below the waist, Pei Xu had dissolved into the wax.

Blood and viscera smeared the floor as Li Zhi, face carved from ice, dodged the now-humanoid wax creature and bolted through the door with her gruesome burden.