Choosing candidates was like a problem of permutations and combinations—it was a technical job. Dead rivals like the Mister Rose and the Gravekeeper’s Servant absolutely couldn’t be paired together, or else one of them would definitely lie on purpose, happily watching the other’s head get chopped off.
Similarly, Mister East Wind couldn’t go either. That guy was too lazy—if he decided to slack off and deliberately throw the match, it would cause unnecessary losses to the team.
In the end, Mister Sea of Book spoke up, his gaze falling on Princess Tea Flower: “You’ll be one of the choices.”
Princess Tea Flower’s expression was slightly repressed, his brows gathering with unshakable sorrow: “If this is everyone’s choice, I won’t shirk it. Only… why me?”
“Because you’re rather cheap.” Her carefully performed act was nothing in Mister Sea of Book’s eyes. He said flatly, “No matter what secrets you’re hiding deep inside, none of us will be surprised.”
“......”a
Princess Tea Flower’s eyelids twitched. Gone was her earlier caution—he let out a cold laugh on the spot: “Then you should go too.”
Mister Sea of Book: “I have the ability to oversee the bigger picture. If I go, it’ll hinder future coordination.”
None of them were good people, but whether words were spoken or left unsaid made a world of difference.
The final candidates decided on were Princess Tea Flower and Teng Snake Lord. The latter, being the main culprit behind the host-player role swap this round, had the responsibility to take on more.
When they stepped forward, Princess Tea Flower deliberately quickened his pace, taking the very spot where Teng Snake Lord had just stood. Yet this time, the silver thread actively wound around his wrist.
Princess Tea Flower’s face shifted slightly—was this a forced designation, requiring him to answer?
He lifted her gaze with hostility toward the old woman. Far from being cowed, the old woman only laughed even more heartily. After laughing her fill, she spoke: “Your name.”
“…Princess Tea Flower.”
The old woman located the card belonging to him, letting out an exaggerated “ah!”: “Lucky one! You only need to answer one question!”
At those words, instead of feeling relieved, Princess Tea Flower narrowed his eyes warily.
“Here is the question—”
The old woman, like a TV host, deliberately dragged out her tone: “Before you secured the right to host Ji Heng’s dead-end instance, did you believe that all your colleagues who had been screwed over by Su Er were trash?”
He placed extra weight on the last word.
In just a short while, no one could remember how many times silence had fallen today.
After who knew how long, Princess Tea Flower turned toward Su Er in the distance, gritting out each word: “You. Are. Ruthless.”
“Answer directly.” The old woman was displeased. “If you speak words unrelated to the answer again, it will be deemed a failure.”
The sensation of an axe hanging overhead was hardly pleasant. Teng Snake Lord urged, “Hurry up.”
Knowing he couldn’t escape, Princess Tea Flower took a deep breath: “Yes.”
“......”a
Su Er laughed.
From this answer on, this so-called “player gang” could no longer stand united.
Thinking of this, he tilted his head at a forty-five-degree angle to the sky, looking wistful: “We will, in the end, grow into the very people we once hated most.”
As if he were savoring to the fullest the joy of a host sowing discord.
His faint air of melancholy drifted in the wind, while the others’ expressions grew exceedingly sour.
At last, the old woman ended her theatrical performance. The scales reverted to a cane as she stepped aside and bowed slightly: “Congratulations, you have passed the Heart-Testing stage.”
Princess Tea Flower’s face was ugly as he crossed first, followed by Teng Snake Lord and Mister Pu Liu.
The three adapted quickly—knowing they were already disliked, they simply dropped their prejudices and formed a small faction together.
The graveyard on the mountain was built haphazardly. Some graves had gone unvisited for years, wild grass growing thick, the mounds collapsed and almost merging with those beside them.
Looking at the sea of graves, Mister Sea of Book pondered for a moment: “Split up and search.”
Divine Seer: “No objections.”
Su Er suddenly appeared to lecture: “Based on my experience as a player, this is the precursor to internal division.”
No one paid him any attention—they all set off separately to search for Zhao Shinan’s grave.
Su Er was unfazed at being ignored. He chose a tall tree, climbed up, and surveyed everything from above.
The rustling of leaves muffled a sigh.
The game had already been running for some time, yet no player had met with misfortune. As the host, this was a dereliction of duty. But soon, a smile crept back onto Su Er’s lips… He was anxious, which meant the others must be even more anxious.
Failure itself wasn’t terrifying—what was terrifying was being the first failure, written into the textbooks, destined to be mocked for a long time.
In gauging the human heart, Su Er was second to none.
Just as he predicted, everyone was doing their utmost to avoid being the very first.
The mountain paths crisscrossed, full of jutting rocks and snake holes that hampered movement.
Mister East Wind moved even slower—the wheelchair severely limited his pace, and of course, his slacker temperament was another reason. As a result, even after a long while, he was still lingering near the entrance.
Hurry up and let someone die.
That was his heartfelt wish—so that he could, without worries, deliberately get himself killed by a ghost and not draw too much criticism. After all, in most cases, only the first and last place would be the focus of discussion.
Just then, while Mister East Wind was dawdling along, his communicator beeped.
[Smiling Merchant: I bet all three of your items are “Coal-Face Concealer.” Want to trade one?]
Mister East Wind leaned back, thoughtful. “Coal-Face Concealer” was a defensive item—when he chose it, he hadn’t thought much, only wanted to play it safe. But now the situation had changed; relying on the same item alone might make him the first casualty.
After deciding, he replied: [Alright, where are you?]
[Smiling Merchant: Just keep moving forward and you’ll see me.]
Mister East Wind poked his head up but didn’t see anyone, so he sped up a little.
The Smiling Merchant was an extremely cautious man. At that moment, he was hiding in a shallow pit, like a grave site reserved but never used. Standing inside, he could conceal his figure while still peeking out to observe the surroundings.
Mister East Wind’s movements weren’t hard to detect—the sound of his wheelchair wheels pressing over the dirt could be heard from a distance.
Just as the Smiling Merchant was about to step out, another figure leaped into view. He frowned and chose to stay hidden.
On the other side, Mister East Wind felt he had walked quite far yet still hadn’t seen anyone. He lowered his head and sent a message: [Where are you?]
[Smiling Merchant: There’s a mole. Deal’s off.]
“......”a
Expressionless, Mister East Wind put away the communicator. His first thought was that the Smiling Merchant’s brain must have been kicked by a donkey.
Before he could curse a few words, he suddenly sensed traces of yin energy. This yin wasn’t from a ghost, but from some weak existence.
Mister East Wind quickly made a judgment and stopped moving forward. At the same time, someone circled around from the side past a few lonely graves and appeared—on his shoulder sat a very eye-catching little figure.
Fully aware of the origin of the clay figures, he fell into thought. Suddenly, he understood the Smiling Merchant’s concern. Since he never cared for riddles, he asked directly: “Were you sent by Su Er?”
“Do you think so?”
Though his words were casual, Mister Rose’s tone felt more like: “Do you want to die?”
Mister East Wind was lazy, but not without brains. Supporting his nearly drooping eyelids, he stifled his drowsiness and changed his words: “Cooperate?”
People with the same goal often clash—for example, the Smiling Merchant and Mister Rose were both competing for the ultimate victory. Mister East Wind, however, was entirely different—he simply didn’t want to be the first to die.
Mister Rose naturally would not pass up such a convenient ally. He nodded.
After they left, Su Er appeared before the Smiling Merchant: “You missed the chance for a powerful alliance.”
The Smiling Merchant didn’t mind: “I suddenly found a better partner.”
Su Er seemed to realize something.
The Smiling Merchant confirmed his thought, not hiding his chosen target: “Gravekeeper’s Servant.”
After Mister Rose manipulated him into the Gravekeeper’s Servant’s instance, the conflict between the two had become irreconcilable. Comparatively, the Gravekeeper’s Servant was even more emotional—he might not achieve victory, but he would definitely make life difficult for Mister Rose.
The Smiling Merchant climbed out of the pit, sat on some weeds, and called Gravekeeper’s Servant on his communicator. The latter happened to be nearby. The two instantly agreed and left together, scheming in tandem.
Seeing this, Su Er shook his head. This wasn’t a team game; it was clearly a large-scale free-for-all.
The graveyard forbade loud noise.
Earlier, Su Er had mentioned it casually, yet everyone took it seriously. Based on years of hosting experience, this was undoubtedly a death-triggering rule.
However, while everyone tried to stick to text communication, the silence was finally broken.
A flurry of cursing reached them from the front, accompanied by a strange clattering.
Princess Tea Flower, closest to the sound, cautiously approached with his item in hand.
About four or five meters away, Teng Snake Lord’s body was pressed tightly against a gravestone. At this point, only half his body remained visible; his back skin was forcibly merging into the stone, and the flowing blood was nearly forming a small stream on the ground.
Princess Tea Flower carefully approached and observed, concluding: “It’s hopeless.”
The stone seemed like a meat grinder, slicing through flesh.
“You don’t need to tell me,” Teng Snake Lord said, sweat pouring from his forehead.
Even though it wouldn’t cause actual death, the pain was real.
“How tragic!” Princess Tea Flower pretended to rub his eyes in sorrow, then, while he was still conscious, quickly asked: “What just happened?”
If he could figure out which death condition he had triggered, he could avoid it himself.
Teng Snake Lord knew perfectly well what he was up to. He bit his lip, refusing to speak. The gravestone had already cut into his lungs; he could survive maybe one more minute.
Princess Tea Flower hastily promised: “If I win, I’ll give you half the reward.”
The Cave Master didn’t trust his strength.
Princess Tea Flower pushed up his glasses: “Strength doesn’t mean everything.”
His words had some effect. At least he didn’t resist excessively and began weighing the pros and cons. Princess Tea Flower was indeed scheming—originally, the three had temporarily banded together because of the scales of truth. Shortly after entering, he gave Mister Pu Liu an item, convincing him to cooperate with others and share intelligence. Then he persuaded him to scout ahead while he stayed in a safe zone.
Now he feigned tears from injury—a textbook example of a manipulative “green tea” personality.
Excessive blood loss made it hard to stay conscious. With no one else approaching, Teng Snake Lord finally made a decision, fully betting on him: “Not all gravestones have names—it was my own foolishness.”
Princess Tea Flower hurried to circle behind him, but Teng Snake Lord’s body was nearly fully embedded in the gravestone. The blood smeared everything, making it impossible to tell if there had ever been inscriptions.
Finally, Teng Snake Lord couldn’t hold on and merged completely into the stone, eyes wide with unfinished death.
Blood remained, and faintly through it, a blurry outline could be seen on the stone… His expression was eerie, as if he had become part of the gravestone itself.
Princess Tea Flower deduced a death rule: do not investigate unnamed gravestones.
In truth, Teng Snake Lord’s logic wasn’t wrong. Who said Zhao Shinan’s grave had to have a tombstone or inscription? It was just unlucky—he triggered the death condition by chance.
Since someone had just died, it wasn’t wise to linger. Princess Tea Flower moved on and spotted a tiny, stumbling figure.
The wild grass was unfriendly to the clay figure, easily tripping it. As it moved, it looked around vigilantly and soon saw Princess Tea Flower as well.
The little clay figure gaped.
This time, Mister Rose only brought two clay figures. The mountain area was wide, and their stamina limited, so they took turns exploring.
“Enemies really do cross paths,” Princess Tea Flower said as he approached. “Did you ever imagine this day would come when you ran off with Mister Rose back then?”
Last generation clay figure replied matter-of-factly: “It’s because you didn’t defeat him.”
Princess Tea Flower bent down, his tone cruel: “Hosts can die and be revived. Clay figures may not.”
Last generation clay figure turned, a talisman stuck to its back, inscribed with Rebound.
Each host could bring three items; Mister Rose’s two were talismans, single-use, reflecting 80% of an enemy’s attack.
Princess Tea Flower temporarily suppressed the thought of killing it in frustration.
Having escaped one ordeal, last generation clay figure began carefully inspecting the gravestones, trying to find one with Zhao Shinan’s name.
Princess Tea Flower followed behind, clearly using it as a scout.
The clay figure realized this—any discovery it made would be claimed by him first.
“Going or not?” Princess Tea Flower’s smile carried a threat: “Don’t forget, the talisman only saves one life.”
Last generation clay figure reluctantly obeyed, thinking of a strategy as it moved.
Behind it, Princess Tea Flower sneered: “So many people dislike clay figures because of Su Er, and yet Mister Rose still lets you out.”
Last generation clay figure spoke honestly: “He gave me two choices: either grow up and handle things independently, or if I fail…”
Its head drooped, voice growing faint.
Princess Tea Flower derived her pleasure from the clay figure’s suffering, asking with glee: “Do they treat you as useless trash to be swept away?”
“No!” Last generation clay figure hurriedly shook its head. “If I fail, I’ll return like the others to inherit the family estate.”
“......”
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