Chapter 76: The Old House

Qi Si arrived at his rural hometown a little past noon.

He got out of the taxi and headed straight for the old house he remembered.

Along the way he passed a few scattered villagers at work—mostly unfamiliar faces who stole glances at this unexpected visitor.

A couple who recognized him muttered, ‘That’s the one who jinxed his parents to death, then the whole family…’

The village was in its twilight years: nothing but crumbling bricks like dandruff, withered grass, and a boundless loneliness and desolation.

Qi Si hadn’t returned in years, yet he quickly picked out the two-storey house renovated six years ago amid the crooked old dwellings.

He walked up, tried the key—then realized the lock had been changed.

Interesting. He slid a thin wire from his wristband and picked the lock open.

It was lunchtime; a big family sat around the dining table, and a three- or four-year-old rolled a toy car back and forth across the threshold.

The moment Qi Si stepped in, everyone visibly froze.

Several adults reacted first, rising with hostile expressions and heading for the door.

Before they could roll up their sleeves, Qi Si had hoisted the child by the collar into his arms and said with a half-smile, ‘I don’t recall ever selling or renting this house.’

Perhaps finally recognizing him, or frightened by how he held the child, the woman at the table hurriedly smiled. ‘Oh, Sisi’s back? We’re all neighbors—why so distant? Your auntie was afraid the house would get musty standing empty, so we drop by to keep an eye on it.’

‘Is that so?’ Qi Si smiled too. ‘Thank you for the kindness, but with my uncle’s family watching the place, I’m quite at ease—no need to trouble anyone else.’

The expressions around the table turned visibly awkward.

Still smiling, Qi Si asked politely, ‘By the way, I’m here to move my family’s graves—any formalities I should know?’

‘Well… you know the rules. Once buried, the dead shouldn’t be disturbed, or it ruins the family’s luck and the neighbors’ feng shui.’

‘So?’

‘If you insist, host a pig-slaughter feast and give every villager a red envelope of eight hundred to a thousand yuan…’

‘Sounds troublesome—forget it, then.’ Qi Si paused, looked at the obvious ringleader, a red glint flashing in his eyes. ‘I may return in the future; kindly put the original lock back.’

The man laughed heartily. ‘No problem, no problem—of course!’

Within the dark mental hall, a golden quill raced across blood-red pages, line after line.

In the upper left of his vision, a new system prompt slowly refreshed:

【Contract established; underwritten by world rules—no being may violate it.】

Because he’d agreed verbally, the dice-throw stage was skipped and the outcome deemed a success?

Qi Si arched an eyebrow, set the stunned child on the floor, and walked out.

Stepping over the threshold, he glanced back with a smile. ‘Oh, if you really want to live here, keep the place clean. When my cousin was carried out back then, the corpse-oil ran all over the floor.’

The faces inside turned even uglier; they’d probably lost their appetites.

Helpfully, Qi Si pulled the door shut and dialed a number.

That afternoon the Jincheng Funeral-Law Enforcement Squad received dozens of tips: several Qijia Village families had illegally buried their dead, seizing farmland and homestead land; immediate action was requested… 20 March, 3 p.m. Qi Si sat in his Jiangcheng apartment eating instant noodles and took a call.

A cold voice said, ‘Mr. Qi, Jincheng Funeral-Law Enforcement. Our investigation confirms illegal burials on your family’s property. Rectify by 31 March or we will enforce compulsory cremation.’

On 1 January 2029 the Federal Government revised the Funeral Regulations, mandating universal cremation worldwide with astonishing rigor.

In hindsight, it was to counter certain real-world anomalies by attacking the problem at its root.

Yet policies from above meet countermeasures below; many villages still secretly bury their dead under the cover of customary clan rules.

Had Qi Si not dutifully reported them, the squad might never have thought to check the tucked-away corners of the back-hill fields.

‘Mr. Qi, this is procedure; please cooperate.’ The tone brooked no refusal.

Qi Si set down his chopsticks and said calmly, ‘Burn them, then scatter the ashes in the soil. Thank you for the trouble.’

‘Pardon?’

‘My grandparents and uncle’s family believed in returning to one’s roots—let them rest in the land that raised them.’ Qi Si finished in mournful tones and hung up crisply.

He cheerfully slurped the last of his noodles, hummed a tune, washed pot and bowl in the kitchen, and put them back in the cupboard.

There were still two days until the hard deadline to enter the instance, but for the moment it seemed there was nothing else to do.

Qi Si splashed water on his face, lay on the bed, and let his consciousness sink into darkness.

【Returning to Game Space】

【System Interface Update Complete】

In a ruined temple swirling with dust, Qi Si opened his eyes in a tall-backed chair.

Two lines of text refreshed before him, like boot-up prompts after a computer restart.

Then a bar appeared in the lower left of his vision, showing item icons: a red rose, a stark-white finger bone, and a rectangular tape recorder.

【Ghost Drivers Recorder】, an unexpected gain from the Carnivore instance, had been stashed straight into his item bar by the Eerie Game; only now, outside the instance, was it truly meeting Qi Si.

Qi Si tried to take the recorder out of the bar and got a “Failed” prompt:

【This item is of a special nature: it can only be used inside instances and cannot be traded in the shop or taken out of the game.】

Qi Si picked up the Pocket Watch of Fate he had left on the table; sure enough, a clock icon appeared in the item bar.

He set it down—the icon vanished; he picked it up again—the icon returned.

Kind of… fun.

After clearing three instances with perfect runs, Qi Si’s item stash was enviable compared with most players, yet he was sorely lacking weapon-type items.

The 【Sinful Cross】 that could deal with wraiths had been swallowed by an evil god; Yang Yundong’s machete had been left untouched from the start, considering the Jiuzhou Guild.

To stockpile weapons there were only three paths: clear instances for rewards, buy from the shop, or kill a few unlucky souls with no guild backing… The obsidian table carved with flowers was still dutifully broadcasting other players’ deaths; on his left, a full-length mirror reflected Qi Si’s profile while slowly condensing a shifting countdown:

【Forced instance entry in: 2 days 5 hours 47 minutes 26 seconds】

Done playing, Qi Si slipped the Pocket Watch of Fate into his trouser pocket, a sudden ominous premonition surfacing in his mind.

He entered the in-game shop and spent five hundred points on a 【Item Appearance Modification Voucher】.

A yellow talisman appeared out of thin air.

【Name: Item Appearance Modification Voucher】

【Type: Item】

【Effect: Within reasonable bounds, alter an item’s form and noticeably lower its presence.】

【Note: A man’s only crime is to carry a jade.】

The Pocket Watch of Fate’s time-reversal effect was a big deal even for formal players; Qi Si had no wish to be targeted for it.

He pulled the brass pocket watch from his coat and placed it on the yellow talisman.

Flames crackled for two seconds; when they dispersed, only a plain silver wristwatch remained.

Qi Si fastened the watch to his left wrist and, satisfied, saw a new line appear in the item bar under 【Pocket Watch of Fate】:

【Perhaps its proper name should be “Watch of Fate”?】

Everything ready, Qi Si rose from the tall-backed chair and, as usual, stepped into the black vortex rippling across the full-length mirror.

【You are now a formal player. Spend points to select a specific instance to enter?】

【Note: After selecting a instance you will experience the full run, but you will not gain points, unlock endings, or earn achievements.】

From the forums Qi Si knew that if he didn’t specify, he’d likely be thrown into a completely unfamiliar instance.

Many forced players were happy to spend points on safer instances once the countdown ended, content to merely survive.

Some theory-crafters repeatedly farmed high-difficulty instances to figure out every mechanic, either to sell guides, reap profits, or simply satisfy curiosity and OCD.

Of course, a handful of twisted veterans deliberately entered newbie instances to slaughter newcomers for fun.

Yet the points required to pick a instance were usually steep, and the fun gained far below the cost. Qi Si loathed low-value deals.

“No need,” he said. “Unless I bring it up myself, don’t ask again.”

【Default setting saved.】

【You performed excellently in the Novice-Pool Dungeon and have earned streaming privileges. Enable stream?】

Qi Si: “No.”

He had a strong desire to perform—but only as the director of a grand ballet, never as a clown on stage seeking cheap applause.

The wave of anti-intellectualism could float a boat or sink it; both supply and demand caught in it were nothing but fuel for the carnival.

Some believe they can guide public opinion with a single call and become opinion leaders—how could they know they’re merely puppets pushed onstage by hidden hands?

Labeling, fragmentation, sensationalism… if all of it is a link in the chain of “sin,” Qi Si preferred to be the hyena lurking in the dark, seizing the festering, bloody meat.

【Default setting saved.】

【Randomly generating instance…】

【instance loading… Load complete.】