Song Zang stood at the doorway as a chill abruptly climbed across his back.
He slowly pulled the door nearly closed, maintained a calm expression, and once again said softly, “I’m asking about my grandfather. Isn’t he eating?”
Tian Yue Xiang put down the spatula, sounding uneasy. “Goodness, child, don’t frighten your mother at night… You weren’t possessed by some water ghost on your way home, were you?”
“Mother, stop saying nonsense!”
His elder brother Song Si shuddered after hearing her. He strode over, accepted Song Zang’s book box, and vigorously messed up Song Zang’s hair as though venting his discomfort.
Song Zang did not resist. He raised his eyes toward his simple, honest elder brother. “Brother, you don’t remember Grandfather either?”
Song Si froze. Song Zang’s stare made goosebumps rise all over him.
Rubbing the bumps spreading across his arm, he good-naturedly took Song Zang’s hand. “Grandfather’s memorial tablet is in the rear house. I’ll take you to pay respects now. Erlang, don’t say nonsense. Don’t make Grandfather unhappy in the afterlife. Be obedient.”
A memorial tablet?
What did that mean?
Like a wandering soul, Song Zang allowed himself to be dragged along. Blankly, he let Song Si hold his arm and walked step by step toward the rear house.
The sun was about to set. Dim evening shadows spread across the green-brick courtyard, while the lingering midsummer heat was slowly swallowed by coldness. Song Zang stared at Song Si’s broad back and quietly asked, “Brother, when did Grandfather die?”
“Erlang, what are you talking about? Did studying make you stupid?
“Grandfather died while we were fleeing the war. He and Grandmother were both killed by rogue soldiers. When you accidentally heard about it as a child, you were so frightened that you cried in your sleep that night. How did you suddenly forget everything? Are you still feverish?”
As Song Si spoke, he checked the temperature of Song Zang’s forehead. It was not especially hot. Probably not high enough to cook his brain.
“…I forgot.”
Meeting his elder brother’s concerned gaze, Song Zang stopped asking. He seized the opportunity to act spoiled and smoothly used the excuse to blur over the subject, drawing out his final words. “Studying is exhausting, Brother. Grinding ink is annoying too… The more I read, the dizzier I get. I really want to sleep.”
Song Si stopped and patted his back. “Feeling dizzy in the beginning is normal. I want to sleep the moment I see those ghost-scribbles too. You’re more promising than your brother, so you have to persist. Eat more and relax, all right? If you keep thinking nonsense, how are you going to place first in the imperial examinations?”
Song Zang laughed. “Brother, I wasn’t going to place first anyway.”
“Bullshit. You think I don’t know you? You’ve been clever as a fox since you were tiny. Your brain works faster than anyone else’s in the world.”
…What a terrifyingly powerful elder-brother filter.
Everyone in the Song family treated him very well. His elder brother included. Song Si was simple and kind and treated Song Zang exactly like a normal biological younger brother.
But what Granny Tian had repeatedly emphasized before she disappeared genuinely made Song Zang uneasy.
Do not trust men.
Your family may cease being your family at any moment.
It sounded somewhat absurd, yet in less than half a day, part of that warning had already come true.
When they reached the rear house, Song Zang discreetly swept his gaze everywhere. Great-Grandfather Song’s residence had not changed at all. The door remained half closed, exactly as it had looked when Song Zang secretly entered yesterday.
But Grandfather Song’s room had completely transformed and now looked utterly unfamiliar.
A pair of heavy, solid redwood doors stood several inches taller than ordinary wooden doors. Their grain contained obvious signs of age.
Ferocious portraits of Zhong Kui and Guan Gong had been pasted on both sides as door guardians, while several yellow-paper talismans drawn by some countryside Daoist priest were stuck along the wall.
The accumulated scent of incense and candles, old and new overlapping, lingered faintly through the air and was impossible for Song Zang to ignore.
That was right. The room had somehow become an ancestral hall used for enshrining memorial tablets.
Song Zang saw the tablets belonging to Grandfather, Grandmother, and older Song ancestors, an altar for the Three Pure Ones and Taishang Laojun, and beside it even a crowd of gilded statues representing Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and the God of Wealth.
This suited the pragmatic values of ordinary Lin Dynasty people perfectly. Any god whose name they had heard and who might prove useful could simply be invited home and worshiped.
But… Grandfather Song’s simple bed, bedding, wardrobe, and furniture looked as though they had never existed.
Reality itself had been directly altered.
Like the system forcibly reformatting data, no one remembered Grandfather Song, and no one remembered what this room had once looked like.
After his death, most of the life he had already lived had completely ceased to exist.
Song Zang became unsettled. He took deep breaths to stabilize himself, then obediently bowed and offered incense to every god under Song Si’s instruction.
While bending down, he suddenly noticed Grandfather’s memorial tablet tremble slightly along with his bow. Several hidden cracks quietly spread across it.
Almost as if… it simply could not withstand incense worship from Song Zang.
The Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, on the other hand, accepted the bows without the slightest reaction. Nothing happened at all.
Song Zang stared at the cracks in the redwood tablet, silently memorized the detail, and did not alert his elder brother.
He inserted the final three sticks of incense, then pretended his spirits had completely recovered. He exhaled brightly, rubbed his stomach, and called loudly, “Brother, I’m hungry! Great-Grandfather, dinner!”
Great-Grandfather Song heard him and soon opened his door.
“Erlang, you’re a scholar now. You can’t keep shouting and fooling around without proper behavior.”
He scolded Song Zang irritably, but amusement was obvious in his eyes.
“I was wrong, Great-Grandfather.” Song Zang grinned and admitted his mistake, once again appearing like the energetic young man he had been before.
At least Song Si noticed nothing unusual. He hurried forward and supported Great-Grandfather.
The brothers supported him from both sides as they walked toward the main room, the atmosphere harmonious. Great-Grandfather quietly reached inside his sleeves and slipped some loose silver into both their palms.
Song Zang received roughly five taels. Song Si received only one and a half. The favoritism was severe and openly displayed without concealment.
Yet Song Si continued smiling cheerfully and even looked embarrassed. Clearly he had long been accustomed to the household favoring his younger brother.
After all, Song Si had already married and established a family. As the eldest son, he would inherit a much larger share of the farmland in the future, so he had no reason to keep accepting money from elders. His younger brother was still young and studying required more expenses. Receiving extra silver made perfect sense.
Great-Grandfather’s “pocket money” for Song Si was already an enormous sum. Nearly two taels was enough to feed him and his wife rice and flour for an entire year… Song Si was far too embarrassed to accept it and tried secretly returning the silver, only for Great-Grandfather to slap him once. Rubbing his nose, he finally accepted it obediently.
Song Zang looked at Song Si lowering his head with a flushed face, then at Great-Grandfather whose eyes also contained amusement. Waves of coldness rose through his heart.
Playing with grandchildren and enjoying the bliss of family life. How wonderful.
Yet Great-Grandfather Song had completely forgotten his own only biological son.
There really was no one left who remembered him.
Dinner was fish soup stewed with wild vegetables and tofu, stir-fried loofah, and the usual two dishes of pickled vegetables. It counted as a rich meal.
To celebrate his son attending school, Song Wei Yi had deliberately caught a large fat fish from the river.
Tian Yue Xiang had not been stingy either. While stir-frying the loofah, she coated the entire iron wok with pork fat, leaving the vegetables glossy and fragrant.
One chair was missing from the square Eight Immortals table.
The seat that had once belonged to Grandfather Song had become Song Wei Yi’s.
Everyone was in a good mood. Great-Grandfather Song even brought out a jug of homemade rice wine and drank with Song Wei Yi, clinking cups and cheerfully enjoying a small amount.
Song Zang showed no further flaw. He obediently finished two large bowls of rice soaked in fish soup, then hugged Tian Yue Xiang and showered her with praise, telling her that her cooking was wonderful, everything she made tasted good, and she cooked like the chef of a restaurant.
Tian Yue Xiang beamed from the flattery. She completely forgot the “strange” behavior Song Zang had shown immediately after coming home and happily hummed a tune as she went to wash dishes.
The sky darkened another shade. Cangmu Mountain in the distance completely disappeared into twilight and merged with the night.
Song Zang used the excuse that he wanted to sleep early, washed ahead of everyone else, returned to his room, then secretly climbed over the wall while the household was not watching and ran straight toward the school without stopping.
He had to tell Yin Chen about this strange reality-formatting event immediately.
On the journey back from Zhangjia Village, the players had already split up.
Song Zang returned home first to deal with his parents. Yin Wu Xue and the Ning brothers rode the carriage into town while there was still daylight to purchase all kinds of everyday supplies.
Her Daoist temple stood on another mountain and traveling back and forth was too inconvenient. After discussing it, everyone decided that Ning Yan would introduce her as a Daoist priest and temporarily arrange for her to stay at the Ning family residence in town.
Grandfather Song’s corpse and all the whining wolf pups had been taken away in the carriage. Ning Ran’s love for animals suddenly exploded, and he insisted on raising every one of them.
Leaving the pups in the village would also have been unsafe, because wolves were faithful to their partners during particular stages of life. Under normal circumstances, the greatest share of resources and benefits would be yielded to the alpha pair and their offspring.
There was no large wolf pack on Cangmu Mountain. The missing male wolf would have great difficulty finding another mate. There was a strong chance he would follow the pups’ scent down from the mountain and enter the village again at night, creating unimaginable chaos.
Whimpering filled the carriage. To feed the desperately hungry pups, Ning Ran urged the horses forward as quickly as possible, impatiently rushing toward town.
Yin Chen, meanwhile, had taken the baby with the missing skull back to the school. An unstable factor containing hidden evil was safest in the hands of the strongest person.
Only a thin red line of sunset remained suspended on the horizon, ready to disappear at any moment.
Coolness rode the evening wind and brushed through Song Zang’s hair. He could not help quickening his steps.
At the same time, Yin Chen rolled the sleeping baby onto his side, changed him into a thin set of underclothes, and wrapped him in a soft swaddle.
He had studied a tiny amount of infant care and knew children absolutely could not be smothered beneath endless layers. Babies were not as afraid of cold as people imagined. Overwrapping them could actually cause problems more easily.
Yin Chen found caring for the baby extremely enjoyable. Even his controlling tendencies received perfect satisfaction.
Because this child neither cried nor caused trouble. He remained unconscious, like a soft lump of meat, unable to do anything except sleep… truly the most ideal baby in the world.
To prevent him from starving, Yin Chen personally carved a small wooden funnel and poured goat milk into the baby’s mouth. Only after watching him unconsciously swallow little by little did Yin Chen finally relax.
Once he confirmed that the child could consume food, Yin Chen stopped hovering over him and directly dragged Xiu Zhu over to babysit. “Feed him goat milk once every shichen.”
Elio’s Notes: A 时辰 (shichen) is a traditional Chinese time unit equal to roughly two modern hours. So Yin Chen has just put Xiu Zhu on a two-hour infant-feeding schedule.
Xiu Zhu accepted the light little infant and became terrified.
He was afraid the princess had genuinely produced a secret baby with some unknown man, and even more afraid the entire scandal might become public and reach the emperor… When the Son of Heaven raged, a million corpses could fall. A little pageboy like Xiu Zhu certainly would not escape decapitation.
But the princess was terrifying too. Even though Xiu Zhu desperately wanted to say something, he did not dare speak and could only obediently care for the child with an expression full of hesitation.
So when Song Zang climbed over the wall into the rear courtyard of the school, he immediately met Xiu Zhu’s deeply resentful gaze.
Xiu Zhu carefully held the baby and blocked Song Zang’s path. His clear, innocent eyes suddenly overflowed with intense condemnation he could barely suppress.
“Young Master, do you know how exceptionally Miss Yin treats you? She has always despised ordinary men and is willing to treat only you well. That is an enormous blessing you hardly deserve!” The faster Xiu Zhu spoke, the more indignant he became, almost cracking his voice. “How could you betray her like this?!”
Song Zang: ???
He looked at Xiu Zhu, then at the baby in his arms, and suddenly understood.
This little pageboy apparently believed Song Zang was an unfaithful bastard. He was so angry smoke practically came from his head. Yet even then, Xiu Zhu maintained the most basic courtesy and never insulted Song Zang personally.
A scholar’s pageboy really was well educated.
Song Zang suppressed his laughter and did not argue. “Where is Miss Yin? I need to speak with her.”
Before Xiu Zhu could erupt again, Song Zang added, “And I won’t betray her. My parents have already arranged a matchmaker. Tomorrow I’m going into town to exchange the banknote for silver, then I’ll return and formally propose.”
“…That’s good. Miss Yin is inside. I’ll go call her.”
Seeing how open and straightforward Song Zang looked, Xiu Zhu’s expression softened slightly.
He was about to seek the princess’s permission when Yin Chen opened the door himself. No one knew how long he had been secretly listening from inside.
Yin Chen looked amused. He glanced at the blushing Xiu Zhu, yanked Song Zang into the room, and shut the door behind them.
“What happened? Why did you suddenly come see me?”
Song Zang immediately threw himself into Yin Chen’s arms, wrapped both arms around his neck, and hung from him. Pressing cheek to cheek, he whispered, “Was Grandfather Song’s corpse successfully taken out of the village?”
Yin Chen raised an eyebrow in surprise and securely supported Song Zang’s legs with one arm. “Of course.”
“But everyone in my family… has completely forgotten he ever existed. Grandfather Song’s room has changed beyond recognition too. It became an ancestral hall.”
“Not one person remembers?”
“Mm. They all say my grandfather died while fleeing the war. Something is very wrong.”
Yin Chen’s expression became serious. Still holding Song Zang, he walked to the window and casually snapped his fingers.
Half a minute later, a beautiful snow-white messenger pigeon flew toward him from the horizon.
The stupid-looking pigeon stood on Song Zang’s shoulder and stretched out one thin little leg. Its black beadlike eyes stared directly at Yin Chen with obvious impatience.
Yin Chen took the paper and brush kept ready on the desk, wrote a short letter, and had Song Zang help roll it into a tube before tying it around the pigeon’s leg.
“Give it to Ning Ran.”
The moment Yin Chen finished speaking, the pigeon actually nodded its tiny head like a person, flapped its wings, and disappeared into the night within seconds.
Song Zang watched with great interest. “How do you know how to use messenger pigeons too?”
“Medisa taught me.” Yin Chen sat at the desk with Song Zang in his arms, carefully studied the nearly invisible injury on his forehead, and casually explained, “She knew a few animal-training techniques. I had the chance this time, so I tested them.”
Hearing that, Song Zang froze slightly. “Why didn’t she teach me?”
“Because I’m the queen. I can handle trivial matters for you. Also, she wanted to buy my loyalty with benefits so I would become even more devoted to you.” Yin Chen spoke gently, reached for the nearby kettle, poured a cup of hot tea, and pushed it to the center of the desk.
“…Oh.”
Song Zang silently nodded and lifted the tea.
Ever since recovering his memories, that red-haired woman had felt farther and farther away, increasingly unfamiliar. Yet Yin Chen had only mentioned her once and her image abruptly became vivid again.
He drank a large mouthful of hot tea and threw those images behind him.
He could not keep looking backward. It was not good for him.
＊
At the same time, in Anning Town, Hai County.
Inside the extended carriage, Grandfather Song’s corpse was decomposing with unnatural speed.
The stench became increasingly intense until even the wolf pups refused to approach.
Yin Wu Xue repeatedly applied several layers of talismans but still could not completely suppress the almost horrifying odor.
Ning Yan covered his nose and mouth with gauze and said in a muffled voice, “Something’s wrong. Why is he decomposing this quickly?”
“My mother rotted extremely quickly too.” Ning Ran stroked one fluffy wolf pup and spoke coldly.
“…I didn’t kill her, did I?”
“Not possible. You were still wearing split-crotch pants back then.”
“Whew. Good.”
The brothers exchanged meaningless conversation while urging the carriage toward the Ning residence.
Until a snow-white pigeon abruptly appeared, stretched its beautiful wings, landed on Ning Ran’s shoulder, and proudly extended one thin leg.
Ning Ran froze for several seconds and looked around. Only after confirming no one was following them did he untie the thin paper bound to its leg.
Blank.
Ning Ran tossed the sheet toward Ning Yan and opened the group chat, completely confused.
【Ning Ran: @Yin Chen, is this pigeon yours? What does a blank sheet mean?】
【Yin Chen: It isn’t blank. Is Song Zang’s grandfather’s corpse still inside the carriage?】
【Ning Ran: Yes. It stinks beyond description.】
【Ning Yan: It really is blank! There’s absolutely nothing written here! Could someone have intercepted the pigeon and swapped the message?】
They said that, but interception was extremely unlikely.
Although this area was not very far from the capital, it was an insignificant little place. Education levels were poor, no important official had emerged from the local families for generations, and almost no one paid attention to it.
To intercept a pigeon flying at high altitude would require at least the skill level of one of the emperor’s elite shadow guards.
Sure enough, Yin Wu Xue quickly ruled out human involvement. She could smell a trace of terrifying evil on the paper and was trying to locate its source.
Song Zang scrolled through the group chat thoughtfully. “I suspect Grandfather’s life was completely erased from this world. Any evidence connected to his existence, as long as it becomes ‘incompatible’ with the new reality, can no longer be recorded or preserved.”
“Then let’s experiment.”
Yin Chen took out a sheet of paper and spread it across the desk. He ground ink, wet the brush, and rewrote the same message.
The two sat shoulder to shoulder at the desk and silently waited.
In less than half a minute, the ink mysteriously disappeared. Not even one drop of moisture remained. The damp paper also returned to being completely dry and unmarked.
Song Zang lifted the page and carefully inspected it but found nothing. “It really disappeared. Why does that happen?”
Yin Chen held his wrist and rubbed it in his palm, his expression unpleasant. “Don’t casually record people who disappear from now on. This energy is extremely powerful. I can sense it, but I can’t catch it.”
“If even you can’t catch it, then it must be incredibly powerful.” Song Zang became even more confused. “How did previous players clear this instance?”
“Don’t know. Never paid attention.”
Yin Chen answered truthfully.
Obviously, Yin Chen rarely bothered reading the game forum. Otherwise, he would not have remained completely unaware that the forum contained outrageously explicit R18 fanfiction about the two of them…
The instant Song Zang asked that question, however, he froze. He suddenly thought of something and hurriedly opened the forum to search for Mountain Village Oddities.
His ominous suspicion seemed to have come true.
There was no clearing guide for this instance anywhere on the forum. Not one player had ever mentioned related information even once.
The mixed search results were completely irrelevant: Old Corpse in the Mountain Village, Strange Tales of the Eastern Suburb Woods, and all kinds of unrelated posts.
“Yin Chen, Mountain Village Oddities seems to be a completely new game world.” Song Zang’s face turned slightly pale. He wrapped both arms tightly around Yin Chen’s waist to steal a sense of security.
Yin Chen allowed him to hug freely and even adjusted his posture so Song Zang could hold him more comfortably, but his expression contained no surprise. “Yes. You only noticed now?”
“…You knew?”
“Don’t worry. I can’t protect everyone, but I can definitely protect you. Even if you personally want to die, you won’t be able to.”
Yin Chen’s tone was calm. It did not sound like a romantic declaration, only an unquestionable statement of absolute fact.
Song Zang believed him.
And while believing him, Song Zang also became full of questions.
“Yin Chen, why do you know so many secrets? Why can you choose your role? Did you choose it specifically to protect me? Is the Infinite Game targeting me?
“Don’t treat me like an idiot and brush me off. Does the Infinite Game have a Main God? Or is there… someone like you who wants me dead?”
Song Zang fired off question after question in one breath. Furious, he extended his claws and grabbed Yin Chen’s suddenly tightened abdominal muscles, repeatedly touching him all over.
Yin Chen remained stunned for quite some time. His phoenix eyes narrowed slightly as he selectively answered a few questions.
“Because I work very hard. I made myself stronger and stronger until almost no one could do anything to me. Once you become powerful enough, rules will yield, precedents can be broken, and knowledge and resources naturally lean toward you…
“Yes. I chose it to protect you. Yes. You have always been targeted. But other than me, no one has the right to bully you.
“There is no Main God. I’m the most special one. Song Zang, don’t even think about putting your attention on anyone else, even if you die. Otherwise I’ll chop you to death.”
Toward the end, Yin Chen’s voice gradually turned cold, carrying completely undisguised extremity and obsession.
Song Zang was satisfied.
Listening to that made his entire body feel refreshed and comfortable. Although Yin Chen had inexplicably threatened him at the end, Song Zang still felt delighted.
The information revealed was incomplete, but at least Yin Chen was finally willing to tell him some of the truth instead of locking his mouth shut like before.
“I only care about you. You aren’t allowed to doubt how I feel.”
Song Zang’s lips curved. Unable to resist, he kissed Yin Chen once. Of course, he restrained himself and placed the kiss only against the side of Yin Chen’s neck.
Soft lips touched the vividly beating carotid artery, gently brushing and slowly rubbing over it.
Yin Chen’s entire body suddenly tensed. His Adam’s apple shifted, exposing his unsettled emotions completely.
Even now, he still had not become accustomed to Song Zang taking too much initiative. He sat stiffly and blankly on the chair, with no idea where to put his hands.
Song Zang looked at him. Light shimmered inside those pure obsidian-black eyes, the seemingly soft and harmless gaze settling lightly across Yin Chen’s stunned, helpless face.
Song Zang asked gently, “Do you like when I kiss you this way?”
Crack!
The expensive pearwood armrest snapped beneath Yin Chen’s hand.
“You like it a lot, don’t you?”
Cool lips pressed against burning skin and slowly moved toward his trembling Adam’s apple, gently grinding over it for a moment.
Song Zang bit him once.
“Next time you want more, all you need to do is tell me more… more secrets.”
“Yin Chen, I’ll reward you.”