Qi Yang hadn’t even asked the price when the stall owner immediately began to enthusiastically sell: “You have a good eye. If you wear this red cord on your wrist it can keep you safe. Take one, won’t you?”

Qi Yang just picked it up to look; he didn’t much like wearing these adornments, and besides he didn’t have any cash on him. He did have cards, but those were for the living world—cards he’d never used in the spirit world and that he knew probably wouldn’t work here.

Putting the red cord back, Qi Yang turned to leave, but the owner behind him suddenly lowered his voice and called after him: “Hey, wait. If you really like it, I’ll give this cord to you for free—it’s not worth much anyway.”

Qi Yang twisted his head to look at the shopkeeper, who looked as if he would be anxious if he didn’t give him the red string.

“I’ll just take a look, I don’t really like wearing these things,” Qi Yang said clearly.

“It won’t hurt to wear it, it’s not heavy, it keeps you safe, really, trust me.” The shopkeeper’s tone carried a hint of pleading now, begging Qi Yang to wear it.

Is this how people hawk their wares? In any case, this was the first time Qi Yang had encountered this kind of situation.

Qi Yang hesitated as if he was about to refuse, but the owner, decisive, didn’t bother with subtlety. He stepped out from behind the stall, came up to Qi Yang, grabbed his hand and shoved the red string into his palm.

As if afraid Qi Yang would reject it, the owner hurried back into his stall and even found an excuse: “Ah, I think I just remembered something. Old Li, could you watch this for me?” He asked the person at the neighboring stall to keep an eye on his goods.

Qi Yang was slightly stunned, staring at the owner’s strange sequence of actions. The owner looked fairly stout, but his retreating figure was surprisingly light, like a 100-meter sprint champion.

“What’s up?” Yi Xinming came over. He had been browsing nearby and hadn’t paid much attention to Qi Yang’s end, but then saw the owner apparently stuffing something into Qi Yang’s hand, so he walked over and asked curiously.

“The boss gave it to me.” Qi Yang opened his palm to show a hand-braided cord of deep red color.

Yi Xinming picked it up and examined it carefully, turning it over. It was an ordinary braided cord; he couldn’t find anything unusual.

“…I still think you shouldn’t take things from here casually.” NPCs are all ghosts and monsters; taking items they offer at random could be some kind of hidden danger, Yi Xinming worried.

Qi Yang guessed the concern that Yi Xinming hadn’t voiced, but his idea was completely different from Yi Xinming’s. If he hadn’t reacted a moment ago, now a suspicion had formed in his mind.

The boss stared into his eyes, not..

They looked at him like an ordinary player, but there was clearly caution and nervousness in their eyes, as if he were a fragile glass doll who could be hurt with a single careless touch. The shopkeeper repeatedly put the red string back on to ensure his safety, and despite Qi Yang’s refusals, forcibly shoved the bracelet into his hand. It wasn’t Qi Yang overthinking it—ever since the game began, these NPCs had treated him with extraordinary care, and Qi Yang believed this was the shopkeeper’s subtle hint directed solely at him.

Qi Yang lowered his head and put the red string on his right hand. He found it awkward to do by himself, so he asked Yi Xinming for help. Just as Yi Xinming reached out, two long, knuckled hands stretched over from the side, and the other person gave Yi Xinming a light push with his body.

Yi Xinming, shoved aside, stared in surprise at Nan Sheng, who had been standing at a distance a moment ago and suddenly lunged forward. He thought to himself that Nan Sheng really didn’t treat him as an outsider.

Yi Xinming pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Since Qi Yang didn’t say anything, he stepped back to the side.

Qi Yang didn’t care who tied the red string for him; as long as it was on, it was fine. It was just a single red string with nothing extra attached. Qi Yang raised his hand—wearing this kind of thing on his hand for the first time felt, to be honest, rather strange.

Qi Yang thanked Nan Sheng, who had tied the red string for him. The man beamed so broadly that Yi Xinming standing beside him shook his head and sneered.

Kang Lian was looking at something not far away. After thinking for a moment, Yi Xinming walked over; Qi Yang wasn’t a child and didn’t need him to watch him every second.

As soon as Yi Xinming left, Yang Jiang, who had been staring at Qi Yang for a while, moved closer. Yang Jiang noticed that Qi Yang seemed different from the others—being handsome was one thing, but Qi Yang also appeared not the least bit afraid or worried about the game. People like that could very well be a hidden big shot. Yang Jiang was a bit crafty and knew how to read the wind, so he planned to find a chance to cozy up to Qi Yang, the possible hidden boss.

“How much is this?” Seeing the red string on Qi Yang’s right hand, Nan Sheng picked up an identical cord from the stall and asked.

The owner of the neighboring stall, who was helping watch the booth, said, “One hundred.”

“One hundred? Why don’t you just go rob someone!” Yang Jiang, standing nearby, couldn’t believe a scrap of string would cost a hundred, and blurted that out before Nan Sheng could speak.

“One hundred, not a cent less. If you’ve got the money, buy it; if you don’t, then move along and don’t block people trying to do business.” The shopkeeper had no courtesy as he snapped at Yang Jiang.

Yang Jiang frowned, very much wanting to overturn the extortioner’s stall before him. Thinking that flipping it might break the rules, he snorted coldly, “This junk? I bet nobody will buy it in their whole lifetime.”

“Who cares if anyone will buy it, you didn’t…”

Money, just go away, hurry up and leave.” The boss walked over to the stall, waving his hand to make Yang Jiang go.

Yang Jiang walked over to Qi Yang’s side. He glanced at the rope in Qi Yang’s hand and quietly asked how Qi Yang could be willing to spend a hundred on something that looked so cheap.

“No charge,” Qi Yang said.

“Huh?” Yang Jiang widened his eyes. “What do you mean no charge? The boss is giving it to you for free?”

“Yeah.” Qi Yang smiled.

“No, no way, why?”

“I don’t know either.” Qi Yang shook his head, not telling the truth.

Yang Jiang’s eyes brightened even more as he stared at Qi Yang — this was a big shot.

“I went out and forgot to bring any money. What can I do here to make up for it?” Nan Sheng wanted the red string more than anything. Although with his status he could have taken one easily, this was in front of Qi Yang, so he had to put on the right act.

Nan Sheng reined in and controlled the aura on his body, so the ghostly vendors here had no idea that the person standing before them was the top boss.

The vendor saw that Nan Sheng’s attitude was acceptable and his expression eased a little, but his tone remained cold and hard: “Yes, if you handcraft ten ropes like this you can get one for free.”

“Alright, I’ll make something up,” Nan Sheng said with a smile; he looked quite handsome when he smiled.

“Keep browsing. If you see anything you like, just take it — I’ll do the work and pay,” Nan Sheng said, turning to Qi Yang, his tone full of indulgence.

If this had been someone else, they might have been moved, but Qi Yang was not someone else; he felt nothing.

Qi Yang turned and left, and once he was gone, the red-string shop owner came out from behind—his expression showed he had been hiding somewhere waiting for Qi Yang to leave.

Seeing Nan Sheng preparing to braid a string to settle the debt, the owner bent down and took a small box from under the stall. The box was full of individual red threads. Nan Sheng took the box and sat on a nearby step. Although he didn’t know how to braid red strings, he learned quickly—after looking a couple of times he had it down.

Yang Jiang saw Nan Sheng actually sitting on the steps improvising for a red string, and instinctively thought Nan Sheng looked quite handsome, but did odd, eccentric things.

Yang Jiang shook his head and walked away. He hurried to catch up with Qi Yang ahead, like a little tail.

Yang Jiang walked beside Qi Yang, his gaze lingering on the red string tied to Qi Yang’s right hand for a long while. When Qi Yang reached a small pond, Yang Jiang joked, “Could it be that the rule here is you can just buy anything at these stalls?”

“Maybe.” Qi Yang smiled and glanced at Yang Jiang. This person’s intentions were too obvious—deliberately getting close to him because he’d sensed something unusual about him.

Wanted to rely on him or borrow his power.

Yang Jiang pressed his lips together, and when he met Qi Yang’s bright, shining eyes, he suddenly felt as if Qi Yang had discovered all the schemes in his heart. He gave an awkward laugh to cover it up.

Over there, Nan Sheng had already sat down and started paying off his labor in order to obtain a red string like Qi Yang’s.

Thinking this, Yang Jiang turned and went back. He asked the shopkeeper, “Can I also switch to using a red string like that?”

Yang Jiang pointed at Nan Sheng, who was earnestly bent over braiding a string.

The answer he received was no.

“Why?” He wasn’t getting it for free—why could Nan Sheng, but he couldn’t?

“Only one person can buy each item,” the shopkeeper said.

“But you sold that red string to both Qi Yang and him,” Yang Jiang frowned, staring at the shopkeeper displeased.

The shopkeeper smiled without much feeling. “The one in front was a freebie. Free items are different from those exchanged for labor.”

Yang Jiang laughed in exasperation at the shopkeeper’s crooked reasoning.

“What kind of rule is this? Things aren’t for sale—then why put them out?” Yang Jiang’s emotions were high, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m not selling.” The shopkeeper didn’t want to argue with the player anymore, his face cold, wearing an expression that said, “If I don’t sell it, what are you going to do about it?”

Yang Jiang calmed himself, forcing himself not to stoop to the NPC’s level. He glanced around; the neighboring stall happened to be selling various fans. Yang Jiang walked over and asked directly, “I want this one. How can I get it?”

The stall owner smiled a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. “Make twenty fans and you can trade them for one.”

“Twenty pieces?” Yang Jiang thought he misheard.

“Do it or don’t, if you don’t want to then forget it.” The stall owner wore an expression that said he didn’t really want to sell the fans.

Yang Jiang craned his neck to look at the other stalls; the goods there looked simple, but seemed harder to actually make. He bit his lip. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

When Yang Jiang and Nan Sheng did that, even the duller players began to realize something; they exchanged thoughts and all agreed that coming here was not just for sightseeing—it had to be for something. They then split up to look for goods, and when they found them they asked the stall owners how to obtain the items without using money.

The stall owners were fairly straightforward; if asked they told you how, and if you didn’t ask they said nothing.

Yi Xinming, who was walking with Kang Lian, noticed their surroundings. After a moment’s thought, he figured that obtaining an item was most likely a hidden task, so he called Kang Lian over and the two went to look for a relatively simple item they could craft by hand.

But not all players thought that exchanging labor for goods was a hidden quest; some

items simply couldn’t be obtained through ordinary work, and players felt the vendors were cheating them.

Moreover, that person thought it was a complete waste of time. He strolled past the stalls, entered a small shop to look around, and while the owner wasn’t paying attention, quietly pocketed an item.

If merely acquiring an item counted as completing a hidden quest, then the method used to obtain the item wouldn’t matter.

Qi Yang, passing by the shop, happened to see the player casually pocket the item; he made no sound and simply watched.

The players who had originally gathered together were now dispersed because they each had to do different handicrafts.

Qi Yang, who had gotten the red string without spending a cent or doing any work, walked alone. He didn’t go far—just nearby on the same street. Passing a beverage shop, he saw there were seats outside, so he went over and sat down, resting while waiting for Yi Xinming and the others to finish obtaining the item as quickly as possible.

He had been sitting for barely a few seconds when an employee from the shop came out. The employee’s eyes flickered slightly when he saw Qi Yang, then handed him a drink menu to look at.

“These are our newest drinks, and you can sample them for free right now. Which one would you like to try?” The employee immediately began to promote the shop’s free tasting samples to Qi Yang.

Qi Yang took the menu and looked it over, pointing to a mung bean milk: “This one.”

“Room temperature or heated?”

“Heated,” Qi Yang said.

“Please wait a moment.” The clerk turned and went into the shop.

Qi Yang sat here waiting to drink his milk; the others weren’t nearly as relaxed. They were exchanging labor for goods. Many of the tasks looked simple, but for the players it was basically “the mind knows it, the hands don’t” — they wasted a lot of raw materials. The vendors weren’t philanthropists; seeing players clumsy and unable to produce sellable items, and repeatedly wasting supplies, they would stomp over, snatch the goods with a sour look, and drive the players away, telling them to go elsewhere.

The several players who had been chased away glanced at one another; comrades in misery, they were rarely treated so mercilessly and publicly in the real world. A few of them were on the verge of clutching their heads and weeping together.

Someone noticed Qi Yang sitting leisurely in a beverage shop in the distance, and they felt a mixture of envy and jealousy.

How did Qi Yang get the item? The players’ attention had been elsewhere at the time, so they hadn’t watched closely; in their minds they wondered whether Qi Yang was just extraordinarily lucky.

Whether in the real world or in this game, there are always people whose luck is enviably astonishing; and on top of that, Qi Yang is handsome, making others practically want to be him.

But envy aside, the goods still need to be bought the same way—no one can predict the future. If actually obtaining the same item counts as a hidden task and it isn’t completed, last night’s scene might replay.

The players could see everything clearly. Some, recalling the gruesome fates of the players who died last night, clutched their bellies as phantom pains flared.

A few of them went to other places together. Merchants who saw they were inept either drove them off or curtly refused; the players hung their heads, ready to kneel to beg. Fortunately, there were still kinder merchants who didn’t mind their clumsiness and were willing to give them a chance.

Qi Yang sipped his milk slowly. The players, including Yi Xinming, were busy working. Qi Yang glanced at everyone with no change in expression, then withdrew his gaze and looked elsewhere, taking in the scenery of the village.

When he had finished about half a glass of milk, Qi Yang noticed someone walking toward him out of the corner of his eye. He looked up and saw Nan Sheng, the man who had been the first to offer labor in exchange for goods. Nan Sheng had already completed weaving ten wrist cords, and as his reward the boss had given him one braided rope—the very same as the one worn on Qi Yang’s right hand.

Nan Sheng also put it on his right hand himself, without asking anyone for help; he fastened it on his own.

Walking out of the beverage shop, Nan Sheng pulled out an empty chair beside Qi Yang and, as if they were old friends, sat down.

A server in the shop, seeing customers had arrived, came out to ask Nan Sheng what he would like to drink.

Nan Sheng pointed at the milk Qi Yang was almost finished and said, “The same as his.”

“This is our shop’s new item; you can try it for free.” The clerk couldn’t perceive Nan Sheng’s true identity because Nan Sheng had concealed his aura. Seeing Nan Sheng’s expression, the clerk assumed he was friends with Qi Yang. Qi Yang had been explicitly instructed to receive special treatment from above, so his friend would also be dealt with accordingly depending on the situation.

The clerk was quick—he turned and brought out a cup of milk. Nan Sheng had asked for it at room temperature; he took a sip and found it a bit too sweet, not quite to his taste.

“Do you want to go somewhere else to hang out? It might still be a while before they finish.” Nan Sheng wanted to be alone with Qi Yang; with those players around, everyone looked like a third wheel to him.

Qi Yang didn’t notice Nan Sheng’s little intention; the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but he ignored Nan Sheng.

Nan Sheng lowered his gaze and stared at Qi Yang’s face, his look direct and intent. Being watched so closely and unblinking, Qi Yang remained expressionless, as if that sharp gaze didn’t exist, and finished his milk.

Afterward, Qi Yang sat for a while longer; Nan Sheng’s posture hadn’t changed, his eyes bright and deep.

Qi Yang suddenly stood up and walked toward the outside. After a couple of steps he stopped and looked back: “Not coming?”

Nan Sheng’s features immediately broke into a smile; he rose and followed Qi Yang. Qi Yang wasn’t exactly short—around one eighty—but Nan Sheng seemed even taller. Beside him Qi Yang looked half a head smaller, and with his slimmer build, he appeared delicate and petite when standing next to Nan Sheng.

Qi Yang cast a faint sidelong glance at Nan Sheng. This man’s pleasant mood seemed genuine; just the fact that he had agreed to go out alone with him seemed to make him quite happy. A ripple stirred in Qi Yang’s heart, but on the other hand he knew Nan Sheng was definitely not as simple as he appeared. There was no trace of fear of the death game on him—he seemed overly at ease, as if he didn’t take the game seriously at all.

The most likely explanation, Qi Yang thought, was that Nan Sheng had cleared the game many times.

With a game this unreal, Qi Yang privately believed anything was possible.

Yi Xinming was still hard at work. He paused briefly and glanced outside the beverage shop where Qi Yang had been sitting, and found that the person who should have been there had suddenly disappeared. A chill ran through Yi Xinming, and he began searching for Qi Yang’s figure. At the end of the road he saw two silhouettes; the pair turned left together, frowning as they stared at the man walking with Qi Yang. The scene felt familiar, and then Yi Xinming remembered where he’d seen it: that morning when they went to the hot spring to check in, after signing the register Qi Yang had left first with Nan Sheng following close behind. Later, when they went looking for Qi Yang, the staff there had told them Qi Yang was soaking in the hot spring and didn’t want to be disturbed.

Although Yi Xinming’s feelings for Qi Yang weren’t romantic, they had been through life-and-death together, and seeing Qi Yang grow close to someone else made Yi Xinming’s gaze darken a bit.

Turning the corner to the left, Nan Sheng led the way, seeming quite familiar with the area. He took the initiative to explain that when he was weaving the handmade red cord he had asked the vendor, and the vendor told him that if he went this way he would reach the lotus pond.

Qi Yang had little doubt about Nan Sheng’s explanation; one could even say he didn’t bother to consider whether Nan Sheng was telling the truth or lying, because there was no need to.

The lotus pond was quite large, a whole pool of green leaves and lotuses, and it seemed the timing was just right—huge, brilliant blossoms were in full bloom. A narrow path ran from the bank inward; some lotus leaves rose more than a meter above the water. When a breeze passed, the leaves and flowers swayed gently.

The scent of lotus leaves filled the air

Arriving, Qi Yang calmed himself and took a deep breath. He walked to a spot where the lotuses bloomed more densely and paused to watch. Nan Sheng came over and stood quietly beside him; they said nothing, and from afar they looked rather well matched.

Nan Sheng noticed some lotus pods in the pond, and the seeds inside the pods looked like they could be eaten. He stepped a little to the side; out of Qi Yang’s view, a wisp of black smoke suddenly appeared in his right hand. In an instant that smoke spread to the largest lotus pod in the pond, and the pod was silently plucked off. The next second it was in Nan Sheng’s hand.

He peeled open the pod to reveal crisp, white lotus seeds. Nan Sheng held the seeds out to Qi Yang. Qi Yang looked down at the plump, large seeds, then slowly let his gaze rise to Nan Sheng’s handsome face.

“It looks pretty good, try it.” Nan Sheng seemed to have already taken to feeding Qi Yang—feeding his pregnant husband carrying his child.

Watching Qi Yang eat, Nan Sheng felt nothing but delight.

Faced with the lotus seed pod that Nan Sheng had somehow plucked, Qi Yang hadn’t really eaten fresh lotus seeds before, and this was the game space—who knew if these seeds were safe to eat? What if something went wrong after he swallowed one? Qi Yang stared at Nan Sheng, convinced that Nan Sheng must have thought of that.

Qi Yang’s thoughts showed plainly on his face, openly questioning Nan Sheng. Nan Sheng smiled, picked up a seed and ate it; his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed the seed.

“It’s fine, you can eat them.” The lotus seeds in this pond are all edible, Nan Sheng said with a smile.

“Try one, they’re quite sweet.” Nan Sheng peeled a seed and brought it to Qi Yang’s mouth—he intended for Qi Yang to take it in his hand, but Qi Yang simply opened his mouth.

Nan Sheng was a little surprised, and in the next moment he fed the lotus seed to Qi Yang.

Qi Yang chewed slowly, as if it tasted good. It was a bit like a peanut, but crisper and sweeter. After finishing one, he reached for another. The lotus seeds were small, and so delicious that he ate several in a row; before long, he had finished a whole lotus pod.