Bai Lixin: “You should have learned from the system that we can’t change what has already happened.”
Lin Jue seemed a bit embarrassed. His lips moved, and he frowned and shook his head, “I don’t know either, it’s like an inner drive forcing me to stop this wedding. It feels like it’s my own will, but also not. Especially…”
Lin Jue gritted his teeth, “Especially these past few days, I’ve been dreaming about the bride every night. She just stands in the fire, staring at me until she is engulfed in the flames.”
Bai Lixin tilted his head, “Are you doing this for the bride?”
Lin Jue became increasingly agitated, “I don’t know.”
Bai Lixin: “Then how do you plan to stop the wedding?”
Lin Jue: “By any means necessary, whatever it takes.”
Bai Lixin: “Do you have a specific plan?”
Lin Jue suddenly said with confidence, “I don’t.”
Bai Lixin: “…”
‘You said a lot, but it’s the same as having said nothing, and you’re still stubborn?’
Lin Jue then started talking about his experience after entering the second stage.
First, he was in danger and almost died in the first stage. In a daze, he heard the system’s prompt for entering the second stage. When he opened his eyes again, he was in pitch-black darkness.
He woke up in a cellar and struggled greatly to climb out. Afterwards, he accepted his role as “Lin Xiao.”
According to the system’s introduction, his bride-to-be was a girl from the city.
Lin Xiao grew up on the generosity of the villagers, eating meals from different households. When he grew up, he repaired an empty house in the village and made it his own home.
Lin Xiao was very smart since he was a child and loved reading. The villagers pooled their money to send him to the city to study, take exams, and further his education. Over the years, Lin Xiao was admitted to a university in the city and later became a teacher there. He only returned to Chenjia Village during the winter and summer holidays.
After spending so much time in the city, Lin Xiao lost the simplicity typical of mountain children, and instead had a scholarly elegance.
He often wore a long blue cloth gown, his hair meticulously groomed, and his posture was gentle and upright like a refined pine tree.
This time, he returned home just before the New Year to arrange his marriage.
It was said that the university where Lin Xiao taught was a prestigious institution, and he had met many people there, some of whom were on the wedding invitation list. Therefore, the preparations for this wedding were grand.
Bai Lixin interrupted Lin Jue, “The system told you this storyline?”
They continued walking while talking, and Lin Jue nodded, “Yes.”
Bai Lixin: “Is the bride at your house?”
Lin Jue: “Of course not. According to their customs, she will only come over in the bridal sedan on the wedding day.”
Bai Lixin: “So you’re alone at home right now?”
Lin Jue: “Yes.”
Bai Lixin: “And for this grand wedding, is there anyone helping you with the arrangements?”
Lin Jue: “There wasn’t before, but now there is.”
Bai Lixin pointed to himself, “Me?”
Lin Jue grinned, revealing his big white teeth.
Lin Jue was now taking him towards Lin Xiao’s home. As they walked, Bai Lixin noticed the villagers’ attitude toward Lin Xiao. The villagers were busy tidying up the village after the devastating rainstorm. But the originally cheerful atmosphere quieted down as soon as they saw Lin Jue.
They didn’t look at Lin Jue, nor did they greet him. Their lack of acknowledgement was the villagers’ strongest reaction to him.
The villagers ignored Lin Jue—that was the villager’s attitude towards him.
Bai Lixin: “Did the system tell you anything about the mountain god?”
“No,” Lin Jue thought for a moment, “but the system mentioned that Lin Xiao often goes to Rong Mountain, and every time he returns, the first place he visits is Rong Mountain.”
Bai Lixin: “So, have you been to Rong Mountain?”
“I have, but I only made it to the foot of the mountain before I had to stop.”
Lin Jue walked farther and farther until he was almost out of the village, finally stopping at the entrance of a remote alley.
He pointed to the only courtyard inside, “This is Lin Xiao’s home.”
Bai Lixin: “Why did you stop at the foot of the mountain?”
Lin Jue shrugged, “Because I couldn’t go any further. I don’t know why, but once I enter Rong Mountain, it feels like I’m in a maze. I walk for hours, but I always end up back at the village entrance.”
“Did you go to Rong Mountain alone?” Bai Lixin paused slightly, his gaze passing over Lin Jue’s shoulder to look at the mountain hidden in the darkness.
Rong Mountain resembled a giant cauliflower, with its dense branches above and bare below. It sat quietly in the darkness, with the giant banyan tree at the top glowing faintly under the moonlight.
Lin Jue: “I went alone.”
“But I went in and didn’t get lost.” Bai Lixin recalled his experience entering Rong Mountain that afternoon, “I followed Father Chen and Chen Dazhuang in.”
“Are you saying that you need an NPC to lead the way to enter Rong Mountain?” Lin Jue pushed open the door, and the heavy wooden door immediately let out a dull creak, “What did you find in Rong Mountain?”
Bai Lixin recounted everything he saw in Rong Mountain: the giant banyan tree, the thousands of graves, the peeling skin, and the creaking sounds of joints.
As Lin Jue listened, his originally indifferent expression gradually brightened, and he became intrigued, “This Chenjia Village really has a lot of secrets.”
“The mountain god.”
“The giant banyan tree.”
“The village that caught fire.”
“The ghost marriage.”
“The banyan tree flowers drifting in the night sky.”
“The charred bodies, the weird acid rain, and those weird masked people.”
“Every part of it is strange, but beneath the strangeness, there must be a logical connection that we haven’t discovered yet. Maybe if we uncover the connections among these strange occurrences, we can reveal the secrets of Chenjia Village and find out the truth about the fire.”
Lin Jue rubbed his temples, “Bai Lixin, this Chenjia Village gives me a very bad feeling. Ever since I arrived here, I’ve felt really uncomfortable, and I have a terrible headache.”
Bai Lixin followed Lin Jue into the courtyard.
In the courtyard stood a wooden house. This wooden house was very familiar to Bai Lixin. It was the same structure he had seen in the photo of the snow village in the game lobby library.
At that time, he saw a bizarre and strange wedding through the window, and now the wedding venue was right in front of him.
The wedding was in two days, and the courtyard was already adorned with festive red couplets, and the roof showed signs of recent repairs.
“Did you arrange all this?” Bai Lixin gestured toward the couplets.
“It wasn’t me.” Lin Jue continued rubbing his temples, “I took a nap, and when I woke up, it was like this. Maybe it was a ghost.”
He spoke with Lin Jue’s characteristic nonchalance, and it was unclear whether he was being sincere or just mocking himself.
Bai Lixin glanced at the couplets. The ink had just dried, and the characters were in standard, straight calligraphy, almost like printed text.
The left couplet read, [Dragon and phoenix bring good fortune, tying a beautiful bond.]
The right couplet read, [A perfect match united today for a hundred years of happiness.]
The horizontal scroll was left blank, it was unclear if it was never written or just left empty.
It looked like Lin Xiao’s handwriting, but Bai Lixin wasn’t entirely sure.
When a person’s traits and habits become too consistent, they lose their individuality.
Just like Lin Xiao with his emotionless features, mechanical body, and perfectly standard handwriting.
Even if his handwriting appeared, it was impossible to truly identify whether it was written by Lin Xiao.
He could see Lin Xiao in every copy world that was not his own, so how come when he came to Lin Xiao’s copy, Lin Xiao was nowhere to be found.
If this “familiar” handwriting was indeed Lin Xiao’s, then it meant Lin Xiao was still somewhere in this village.
The house wasn’t decorated by Lin Jue, so could it have been “Lin Xiao”?
If so, could this clue help him find the real Lin Xiao?
Bai Lixin also made another discovery.
Lin Jue played the role of “Lin Xiao”, but this world originally had the character “Lin Xiao”; it wasn’t a role created because of Lin Jue’s appearance.
Xia Chi also said he was now the youngest son of Master Song.
He himself was playing the role of Chen Dazhuang’s younger brother, “Chen Erniu.”
Could it be that the characters they were playing were all real people in the original world?
But now that they had taken over those people’s identities, where had those original people gone?
Bai Lixin looked at Lin Jue.
Lin Jue rubbed his temples again, looking quite uncomfortable.
“My head hurts again.” Lin Jue grimaced. He opened the slightly ajar wooden door, walked in and collapsed onto a wooden stool.
As soon as his butt touched the stool, the next second, his entire body tilted forward, and he slumped face-first onto the wooden table.
With a loud “bang,” he lost all movement.
S419M: [? He fainted?]
Escape System: [Yes, clearly.]
S419M: [But why did he faint? He wasn’t injured or poisoned, it doesn’t make sense.]
Escape System: [I’ve seen this situation in the system employee handbook before. It’s most likely because the character he was playing deviated too much from their original persona. To ensure the plot progresses towards its predetermined goal, the system may take control of the player’s body when necessary to complete essential plot points without harming the player’s life.]
As if to confirm the Escape System’s words, Lin Jue, who had just been unconscious, suddenly sat up with a jolt.
But there was something strange about the way Lin Jue sat up. His pupils were dilated, his gaze unfocused, and his body was stiff, almost as if he were sleepwalking.
Lin Jue got up and walked to the bedside, skillfully pulling out red paper and ink from under the bed. He spread the red paper on the table and wrote the four large characters “喜结良缘” (Happy Marriage) in standard script.
Bai Lixin waved his hand in front of Lin Jue’s eyes, but Lin Jue’s unfocused gaze remained unchanged, without any reaction.
Once the ink had mostly dried, Lin Jue applied glue to the back of the paper, carried a wooden stool outside, and pasted the banner onto the plaque of the door.
So it seemed that the couplets were also written by Lin Jue, not Lin Xiao.
‘Lin Xiao, where exactly have you gone?
What secrets are you hiding?
What is it that you want to tell me?’
‘What is it you want me to help you with?
Could the things you want to tell me be hidden in the mechanical actions Lin Jue is now performing?’
After putting up the couplet, Lin Jue carried the small stool back into the house.
Bai Lixin followed behind Lin Jue, silently observing his next actions.
Just as Lin Jue was about to step into the wooden house, he suddenly turned around without any warning.
Lin Jue’s face abruptly faced Bai Lixin, his dark, vacant eyes almost pressing against Bai Lixin’s face.
Bai Lixin held his breath and quietly took two steps back.
Lin Jue stared in Bai Lixin’s direction for a few seconds, then turned his head to look towards Rong Mountain.
Lin Jue stared at Rong Mountain, while Bai Lixin stared at Lin Jue.
He watched as Lin Jue’s lips moved silently, forming a few words before he turned and went back into the house.
—I’m sorry, Rong Mountain.
These were the words from Lin Jue—or more accurately, from “Lin Xiao.”
