The gentle breeze that lingered earlier miraculously stilled the moment Princess Tea Flower spoke. The fallen leaves, once caught in midair, lost their support and rustled back to the ground.
Su Er pulled out his tablet, intending to record his words on a loop for playback, saving himself from wasting more effort.
Princess Tea Flower quickly stopped him, changing the subject: “Aren’t you curious why, after passing the dead-end instance, the game didn’t give you a choice?”
“Not curious.”
Su Er was utterly unmoved, holding firmly to his own conviction—focused only on how to become a host.
Seeing he was unmoved no matter what he tried, Princess Tea Flower’s expression froze. Without another word, he vanished from sight.
“Forget it, pressing too hard isn’t good either.” Ji Heng shook his head.
Hidden in the shadows, Princess Tea Flower felt a faint, subtle pang of emotion—only for it to be disrupted moments later by Ji Heng’s calm voice: “Later, buy information from the Smiling Merchant. It’ll be far more reliable.”
Su Er nodded thoughtfully, then mounted his bicycle.
The muddy ground bore a trail of tracks. Princess Tea Flower stared at them for a while, as if the wheels had rolled over his own heart’s petals.
The library and the museum weren’t far from here.
Passing by the library, Su Er noticed lights on the first floor. He faintly saw a shadow drifting around the reading room. That figure seemed to sense something as well, drifting toward the window to watch the two of them cycling through the night.
“Where is the lover who forgets to return home, parting in a pavilion of jade?” Su Er sighed as if touched by the emotions of the ancients. “Truly heartbreaking.”
Ji Heng helplessly corrected him: “Feng Peng and I didn’t have much of a bond to begin with.”
Su Er blinked. “If you stay, you might ‘rekindle old ties.’”
A faint curve touched Ji Heng’s lips. The host’s earlier words had their effect—this was his way of reminding himself of the troubles that would arise if he chose to become a native again.
When the expected reaction never came, Su Er coughed lightly. “If you choose to remain in the instance world, Feng Peng will think you’re still clinging to your feelings for him—so much so that you’d abandon me.”
He calmly spun out a future: “Besides, Feng Peng is a ghost, under the Ghost King’s jurisdiction. You, as the key to the Core Project, couldn’t destroy him—you’d be forced to endure. Of course…”
Here, Su Er deliberately dragged out his words. “You could also tell him the truth—that everything was just to clear the scenario. But then, peace in the rest of your life would be difficult.”
Ji Heng neatly distilled the point: “You don’t want me to stay.”
His tone was firm.
Su Er admitted it with a nod.
Ji Heng: “Why?”
“Because naturally…” Su Er frowned, realizing he couldn’t find a reason. His voice dropped, solemn: “Anyway, it’s for your own good.”
With that, he pedaled faster, putting ten meters between them in a few breaths.
Left behind, Ji Heng paused, then gave a helpless laugh.
The city museum boasted a flashy reputation as a must-see tourist spot, but in truth, visitors were few—mostly school-organized trips.
Zhu Yu and the others were waiting across the road, not entering yet. Xu Yangyang spotted them first, waved, and when Su Er came closer, asked quietly, “Do you want to call him?”
The man had asked to be called before they entered, but only Su Er had his contact.
Su Er looked around, scanning even the distant high points.
Zhu Yu saw what he was thinking and spoke directly: “No one else is nearby.”
At that, Su Er felt a headache coming on. The likelihood of Li Shuo having problems had just skyrocketed. In truth, on the first day of disaster, public trust in the government was at its peak—far from collapse. Since the old Taoist had been officially branded as dangerous, if he were discovered, there was no reason the authorities wouldn’t have set up countermeasures on the perimeter.
With a soft sigh, his gaze settled on the museum doors. Su Er’s expression hardened. “The emptiness outside is too suspicious.”
Xu Yangyang frowned. “That guy, what’s his name…”
“Li Shuo.”
Xu Yangyang: “If he’s parasitized, then we’re walking straight into a tiger’s den, a dragon’s lair.”
They might already be walking into a trap.
Zhu Yu’s smile turned cold. “Why not just set the place on fire? Burn both the schemes and whatever detectors are inside to ash.”
Xu Yangyang shivered—this woman was ruthless! He hadn’t thought of such a brutally simple way to break the situation.
Jia Kanhua, usually quiet, spoke up: “I agree.”
Whether innocents might be caught in it didn’t enter his thoughts. After so long in the game, even the most harmless-looking people carried twisted or even deranged hearts.
Zhu Yu turned to Su Er. “And you?”
Su Er was looking at his tablet. At her words, he lifted his head. “This museum has online virtual tours. None of the exhibits have detectors.”
“Normal. That part of history has been deliberately erased—no way they’d put it on display.”
“At the library, Ji Heng and I found a cryogenic chamber in the underground vault,” Su Er said slowly. “It’s not impossible there’s one here too.”
If they rashly burned it down, they might destroy the mechanisms. Then how would they break through and find the detector?
After weighing it, Zhu Yu abandoned the idea of fire for now. Instead, she warned, “Charging in head-on is too risky—we could all be wiped out.”
Everyone was lost in thought, Su Er included, though no good solutions came to mind immediately.
Xu Yangyang suddenly brightened. “Why not send your clay figure in to scout?”
Su Er shook his head. “Not suitable.”
The clay figure could still be hidden in his pocket. But if Li Shuo had been parasitized, then the museum was full of eggs. If the clay figure, fused with the peach blossom, went in—it might not even leave a trace.
Xu Yangyang, good at reading people’s eyes, could tell Su Er wasn’t lying, so he didn’t press.
Suddenly, Su Er’s tablet lit up. A message from Li Shuo: asking where he was.
[Almost there.]
After sending those three words, Su Er lifted his head, gaze firm. “We’ll split into two groups—front and back entrances, at the same time.”
Dragging things out was useless. No one objected. There were five people total: Su Er and Ji Heng would inevitably clash with Li Shuo, so they’d be one group. The other three would be the second.
The others needed time to circle around to the back, which created a gap. Su Er planned to go in two minutes later. As they waited, he said, “The clay figure’s head has always been intact. If we get the chance, we should test if it carries antibodies.”
Ji Heng: “Don’t put too much trust in the host’s words.”
At that moment, Princess Tea Flower’s resentful voice floated out of nowhere: “Mind your tongue.”
Su Er tried to be fair. He said quietly, “He probably wouldn’t lie about something like this.”
“Truth and traps aren’t mutually exclusive.” Ji Heng said calmly. “Like the note from Green Lotus Sage. It said you could use it in a life-or-death crisis… but how do you define what counts as a desperate situation?”
If the danger they encountered didn’t truly count as a desperate situation, yet they relied on the slip of paper, reciting “flower blooming” three times before use would instead turn it into a death talisman.
Su Er understood. “So thinking through one’s own way out has a greater chance of survival.”
Ji Heng nodded. “In the same way, with parasites everywhere, we can’t rule out the possibility that researchers have been infected. Going there might just be walking to our own deaths.”
From the shadows, the host offered no rebuttal.
Just like the choices given after players cleared the dead-end instance, the so-called benefits and hints from the host often served only to lower their survival chances in subtle ways.
Su Er sighed at how deep the traps ran, then, seeing the time was about right, stepped into the museum.
It seemed the security guards had left in a hurry—batons and shields weren’t even locked away. The lobby bore several pools of blood, proof of the chaos that had erupted here earlier in the day.
Su Er picked up a baton, but his gaze was suddenly drawn upward to the skylight. The stained-glass design was highly artistic: a brilliantly colored peacock. What truly caught his attention, though, were its feathers—covered in false eyes. No matter where he walked, those eyes seemed alive, tracking his every movement.
—Eyes are the windows of the soul.
The phrase surfaced unbidden in his mind.
Up to now, that clue from Deception had been useless. Yet the instant he saw the peacock, Su Er instinctively linked the two together.
Ji Heng glanced up for a few seconds, then stopped him. “These false eyes are strange. Stare too long and you’ll start hallucinating.”
Su Er already felt a heavy pounding in his chest, his head growing drowsy. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.
When he steadied, Ji Heng said, “Contact Li Shuo.”
The museum was too quiet; calling would completely expose their position. Su Er switched his phone to vibrate, then sent a text. A reply came quickly.
Ji Heng: “What does it say?”
Su Er: “He wants us to meet in the third-floor exhibition hall… Should we go?”
Ji Heng didn’t answer—he was staring at the clay figure in Su Er’s pocket.
The museum was full of white fluff; keeping the clay figure on him might make it an easy target. Better to put it to use.
Su Er understood and looked down. “Go outside, find a way onto the roof.”
Ever since entering, the clay figure had felt uneasy. It accepted the task eagerly without hesitation.
“Oh, and…” Su Er thought for a moment before adding, “once you’re up there, try observing through the peacock’s false eyes. See if you can find anything.”
The clay figure grunted twice in agreement and hurried off.
Seeing Su Er hadn’t left any backup, Ji Heng raised a brow. “Not afraid it’ll run off?”
Su Er: “Eggs are everywhere. There’s no safe place in this world for it.”
Anyone with sense would know that cooperating with him was its only way out.
“Let’s go.” Ji Heng smiled, dropping the subject, then glanced around. “Zhu Yu and the others are checking the first floor.”
They chose the escalator. Su Er led the way. “Now that I think about it, even if we hadn’t met Li Shuo earlier, we might still run into him here.”
The authorities were hunting for the old Taoist. If he showed up in the museum, they’d certainly follow.
But the timing was too neat—several groups colliding at once. More like the game was pushing things from behind the scenes.
Hearing no reply, Su Er turned to see Ji Heng holding a sharp dagger.
“What is it?”
Ji Heng silenced him with a gesture, slipping the blade back into his pocket and watching the sides warily.
Skylight.
The clay figure climbed up smoothly. Following Su Er’s instructions, it pressed itself to one of the false eyes and peered inside.
The museum seemed submerged underwater—everything blurred. Perhaps it was due to the false eye’s coloring, but the view was slightly distorted.
Just as the clay figure strained to see more, its pupils suddenly filled with fractured, shimmering colors.
The peacock had come alive, swelling to a massive size, and in a flash, it swooped down, swallowing the two on the escalator whole. It all happened so fast, the figurine didn’t even have time to be shocked.
In that instant, Su Er looked up into a gaping, bloody maw.
The mouth was so vast that no matter which way he ran, the odds of escape were slim.
“Close your eyes.”
The moment Su Er reached for his stun gun, Ji Heng pulled him behind.
Su Er hesitated, then shut his eyes and put the stun gun away.
Sticky fluid dripped from above. Soon, blood sprayed from all directions, splattering across his face. He was thankful he’d closed his eyes in time—any later, and it would’ve seeped into them.
After a while, someone wiped his face with a sleeve.
Ji Heng: “It’s over.”
Su Er quickly rubbed again himself before opening his eyes.
Blood and a foul, slimy fluid—like saliva—covered him. Yet no monster’s corpse was in sight.
Ji Heng: “The peacock.”
Su Er froze, then tilted his head back. The peacock mural was still on the skylight, though its feathers looked somewhat disheveled.
“Alive?”
Ji Heng: “The witness will be down soon. We’ll know then.”
He meant the clay figure. While waiting, Su Er checked his backpack to ensure his tablet hadn’t been soaked.
The clay figure returned later than expected, a crumpled plastic bag pinned to its chest.
Su Er frowned. “What’s with this getup?”
“I—I thought you’d been eaten…” the clay figure stammered, flustered. “I… I was in mourning…”
In truth, it was mostly grieving the loss of the stun gun to the monster’s stomach.
“......”
Rubbing his temples, Su Er cut to the point. “What did you see up there?”
The clay figure had just opened its mouth when a sharp scream echoed nearby.
Su Er: “Sounds like Zhu Yu.”
Ji Heng’s voice turned grim. “Let’s check it out.”
Having just been ambushed, they were on high alert—keeping one eye on the peacock above as they moved toward the sound.
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