Chapter 8: The Village Funeral
At night, Guanping Village felt lifeless—no chirping insects, no movement. It resembled a ghost town. A pale, hazy moon hung overhead, hinting at foul weather to come.
The village had many narrow paths, but Li Zhi walked fast. Soon, the grand ancestral hall came into view.
Flickering candlelight seeped through the cracks of its doors and windows, glowing faintly in the darkness like a flame luring moths—waiting silently for prey to fall into its trap.
The bloodstains left by Pei Xu’s body at the hall’s entrance during the day had somehow been cleaned away. Li Zhi stepped onto the stone steps and paused for two seconds with her palm pressed against the carved wooden door. Just as viewers began to hope she might turn back, she pushed it open.
A chill mixed with the scent of burning wax rushed out. The front area of the hall was empty—not only was the blood gone, but so was the melted lower half of Pei Xu’s body. The floor was clean, save for a shallow pool of hardened wax.
Li Zhi looked up. The wax creature still clung to the ceiling, but unlike during the day, it was now solidified—like it had dried there. The candlelight below reflected off its milky-white surface, casting an oily sheen.
After observing it briefly—seeming asleep—Li Zhi wasted no time and strode toward the dusty old book resting before the shrine.
She brushed off the dust, revealing the title on the cover: Guan Clan Genealogy.
By the flickering candlelight, she flipped through quickly.
From the mourning wreath earlier, she had learned the village chief’s name—Guan Maode. According to the genealogy, Guanping once thrived with people, tracing its origins back to the Tang Dynasty. But over time, especially after the founding of the modern state, the population dwindled.
She finally found Guan Maode’s entry. By his generation, the Guan clan numbered only seventy or eighty people.
His branch of the family showed only one son—Guan Yongxing—with a note beside the name: “Died young.” His lineage ended there.
Flipping further, the decline continued. The dust on the book’s cover revealed how long it had gone untouched—likely years since anyone last opened it. No new births meant that once this generation passed on, Guanping would become a true ghost village, vanishing from existence.
Having found what she needed, Li Zhi returned the genealogy to its place and searched for more clues. Suddenly, with a loud bang, the two heavy doors slammed shut behind her.
She had been watching the ceiling creature closely. As the doors closed, the creature’s rigid form suddenly melted. Hot wax poured outward like water, sealing all gaps around the doors and windows before hardening again.
Though still unconscious, the monster had stretched itself wide like a skin, sealing every exit.
Li Zhi rushed to the door immediately, but the wax that should have crumbled under pressure now felt harder than concrete.
The candles before the ancestral tablets began to flicker violently, rapidly consuming oxygen. If she stayed any longer, suffocation or the awakened monster would be her end.
The live chat exploded in panic:
【We’re doomed! Doomed! Doomed! Li Zhi is trapped!】
【I knew the geomancer was lying! How could Li Zhi be so naive?!】
【Why go alone?! At least bring teammates to guard the door!】
【Maybe she didn’t want to burden them. She seemed really shaken when Pei Xu died earlier.】
【Is my beloved player going to die here?!】
……
Li Zhi tried once, confirmed the door wouldn’t budge, then without hesitation, turned and headed back to the shrine.
While viewers mourned, they watched her take the candle-filled incense burners one by one and carry them toward the entrance.
Soon, most of the candles were gathered at the door. Flames devoured the remaining oxygen, heat rising steadily.
Viewers quickly caught on:
【She’s using the heat to melt the wax!】
【No matter how hard it is, wax can’t resist high temperatures!】
【Li Zhi thinks so fast! This game really suits high-IQ players!】
【Actually, even ordinary people might think of this—but under such horror, few can stay calm enough to reason.】
Amid the chatter, the wax finally began to soften under the intense heat. Li Zhi kicked hard—the unmelted part above the door cracked with a brittle sound.
As the door opened, the creature fully awoke—but by then, Li Zhi had already leapt past the rows of candles and exited the hall.
As she descended the steps, a strange, shrill screech echoed behind her—like fire tearing through air. She glanced back. The wax monster clung between the two doors, its head forming into a sharp point, roaring in her direction.
Moonlight cast a slender shadow across the ground. Calmly, she muttered:
“Helpless rage.”
Wax monster: “?!”
Not just the creature—viewers were stunned too:
【You’re seriously not scared it’ll chase you out?!】
【Accurate. Spot-on. Genius-level roast.】
【While other players are running for their lives being chased by monsters, has Li Zhi already evolved to mocking level?!】
And with that, she walked off. Not because she wasn’t afraid—but because jokes helped her cope.
It had taken nearly an hour. The entire village remained dark, except for the faint glow of the mourning hall in the distance—a single light in the graveyard.
As she neared the courtyard gate, a black shadow darted past her feet.
Fast and silent, it leapt onto the wall before she could track it properly.
It was a jet-black cat.
Noiselessly stepping along the wall, it turned its head. In the darkness, its eyes glowed a deep green.
“Meow——”
It let out a low cry, then jumped down into the courtyard.
Li Zhi remembered—last night, half-awake, she’d also heard a cat’s meow.
“Xu Shu!” she called urgently, rushing toward the gate.
Inside the courtyard, Xu Shu, who had been anxiously guarding the eternal lamp, shot to his feet upon hearing her voice and hurried toward the entrance.
At the same moment, Li Zhi burst in. Seeing her safe, relief flashed across his face—until behind him came a slow, creaking sound.
Like bones grinding together—one joint at a time. Instantly, cold sweat broke out on his back.
Behind him… lay the village chief’s coffin.
“Don’t look back!” Li Zhi shouted sharply, stopping him mid-turn.
The black cat emerged from the shadows, fur bristling, teeth bared, creeping forward slowly.
Inside the dim mourning hall, the village chief’s corpse sat upright in the coffin. Eyes closed, lips curled in the same eerie smile as the paper figure outside.
Li Zhi sprinted forward, ripped off her jacket, and tackled the cat, wrapping it tightly.
The cat struggled, but she bundled it close and moved it far from the coffin. Xu Shu followed, limbs trembling. Though he had guessed what was happening, seeing it still chilled him.
Standing at a safe distance, Li Zhi reached out gently and stroked the cat’s head. It stopped resisting, purring softly in her arms.
Inside the coffin, the village chief sat motionless. The dim oil lamp illuminated his pale, twisted face. His smile had faded, replaced by a cruel, resentful sneer. After a while, his body sank back down—joint by joint.
Xu Shu took a shaky breath and heard Li Zhi whisper:
“The cat can’t get near the coffin—it causes resurrection.”
He frowned at the cat in her arms. “Then what do we do with this one?”