Infinity Flow: The Man Assigned by the Game Cannot Be Wanted! - Chapter 7

The orange glow of the scattered sunset sprinkled across the modest-sized village. A gentle breeze blew by, carrying the appetizing aroma of home-cooked meals, punctuated every now and then by the barking of dogs and the crowing of chickens. It would have been a picturesque rural scene if not for the eerie atmosphere permeating the place.

Lin Chubai looked at the setting sun on the horizon, sighed softly, and slowly lowered his head.

The moment he looked down, Ye Zhou, leaning against the low courtyard wall, caught his eye. The ragged, patched clothing still could not conceal his noble aura.

As if sensing Lin Chubai’s arrival, Ye Zhou straightened up slightly, his gaze locked directly onto Lin Chubai.

“How did it go?” Lin Chubai asked, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“The coffin is in the ancestral hall.”

Flashback.

After the three of them split up, Ye Zhou first went to the village chief’s house. The village chief was slowly sipping tea and reading a book at home, showing no signs of anything unusual.

Drip. A bead of sweat slid down Ye Zhou’s temple and fell onto a stone. Without realizing it, half an hour had already passed, yet the village chief remained engrossed in his tea and book, not moving an inch.

No good. I have to get inside.

Knock, knock, knock. The old wooden door was knocked upon, sending dust fluttering down from above. A familiar voice rang out from outside, “Old Li! The fields on the south side are starting to seep blood!”

The village chief’s hand jerked abruptly, nearly causing him to lose his grip on the book. He gulped down the remaining tea in one swallow, braced himself unsteadily against the coffee table to stand up, and walked toward the door.

“Why is it getting earlier and earlier?” The tone carried a hint of despair, his bloodshot eyes darting around as he rubbed his face hard.

The main door opened, and the village chief left along with the middle-aged woman standing at the doorway.

Before leaving, the woman cast a fleeting, barely perceptible glance in Ye Zhou’s direction.

Wrong. This person is wrong. Is it a trap?

The wind caught the sachet on the windowsill, sending waves of lavender scent drifting into Ye Zhou’s nostrils. Surveying his surroundings and finding no one in sight, Ye Zhou vaulted into the village chief’s room with lightning speed.

After searching the place thoroughly, he found nothing out of the ordinary, leading him to the tentative conclusion that the village chief lived alone as an empty-nester.

However, there was one strange detail: the freshly chopped ingredients in the kitchen were far more than what a single person could consume.

Frowning, Ye Zhou walked toward the kitchen. Suddenly, a dull thud of stones colliding came from beneath the floor mat!

There was a space underneath!

This discovery made Ye Zhou’s blood run cold. Just what kind of entity could be locked away inside a horror game?

Lifting the rug kicked up a cloud of dust, and countless blood-inlaid yellow Taoist talismans burst into his field of vision. Ye Zhou reached out to touch them, and a sharp stinging sensation immediately pierced his fingertips. Pulling his hand back, he found that his fingertip was completely uninjured, and the previous pain had vanished without a trace.

The game interface popped up as well:

[Warning! Warning! Severe pollution source! Severe pollution source!]

Not daring to act rashly anymore, Ye Zhou focused his mind to burn the pattern of the yellow talismans into his memory before carefully restoring the rug to its original state.

As soon as he stepped out of the kitchen, he saw two villagers hurrying toward the south side.

Casting one last look at the now-fruitless house, Ye Zhou summoned his wings and began tailing the two men.

“Village Chief, the people from the inn just sent word that the escapee still hasn’t been found!” The villager running in front could not conceal the terror in his eyes.

The village chief said nothing, quietly gazing in the direction of the middle-aged woman’s house. After a long pause, he finally spoke, “Prepare the offerings for the sacrifice. We’ll perform it early.”

With those words, he turned and headed up the mountain.

Ye Zhou followed closely behind. From an angle where he could not be seen, the village chief curved his lips into an enigmatic smile.

The scent of burning incense drifted into Ye Zhou’s nose with the breeze. The village chief halted before the gates of the ancestral hall, dropped to his knees on the ground, kowtowed three loud times, and muttered something under his breath.

Four guards holding machetes stood at the entrance. The village chief spoke briefly to one of them, the guard nodded slightly, and the village chief stepped inside.

Ye Zhou channeled his energy into his back, and dark feathers sprouted like bamboo shoots breaking through the earth, blossoming across his back.

His wings caught the wind and carried him aloft, and spotting an unguarded corner, he flew right up.

The roof tiles of the ancestral hall were extremely prone to making noise, but Ye Zhou’s skill was sufficient to let him land and stand atop them without alerting a single soul.

The everlasting lamps inside the ancestral hall cast a pale yellow glow, spilling over a coffin inscribed with black and red runes. Behind it sat three wooden coffins tied with red silk flowers.

An offering table stood directly in front of the black coffin, holding a black-and-white portrait.

Whoosh! The piercing sound of a flying arrow hurtled straight toward Ye Zhou. He sidestepped slightly, and the feathers at the tail of the arrow sliced open a tear in his already tattered clothes like a sharp blade.

Looking back, Ye Zhou saw three bows in the bushes aimed directly at him.

Ye Zhou suddenly surged forward, flying toward the three attackers, while the three arrows left their bows like hungry ghosts.

Pulling his wings back defensively to block the arrows, he then fanned them outward with a sudden powerful sweep, deflecting the arrows back along their trajectory and driving them deep into their owners’ skulls.

Not wanting to linger in combat, Ye Zhou flapped his wings and departed the dangerous spot.

The village chief narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched the dark silhouette fly across the horizon.

End of flashback.

“Oh right, I looked at those talismans. Most of the ones on the houses were house-securing talismans, except for the few in the center of the village. Their talismans had a few extra strokes compared to ordinary ones, and I couldn’t figure out what they meant.” Song Siyun, who had rushed over as soon as the group chat opened, deeply regretted not studying properly under his master.

“It is fine. You have already done very well,” Lin Chubai said in a gentle tone, without a trace of complaint. He then retrieved a notebook and pen from his game inventory. “This is the map of the southeast side that I drew. The black dots mark the houses with talismans on the doors, and the ones marked with an X have different talismans. Can you fill in the rest?”

Song Siyun took the notebook and pen and began completing the map. Beside him, Lin Chubai pointed to the black dots on the page and spoke again, “The people living in the houses marked with an X on my side all share two things in common: they all appeared in my dreams, and they all live alone.”

Song Siyun drew as he replied, “Most of the ones on my side live alone too, but I am not sure if they appeared in your dreams.”

“Is there any talisman that causes pain the moment you touch it?” Ye Zhou suddenly chimed in, staring intently at Song Siyun.

“That is a bit difficult. Talismans are generally only effective against ghosts from the netherworld. But if it can inflict damage on a living spirit from the mortal realm, the person who drew it must have a very high level of cultivation,” Song Siyun answered honestly, though startled by Ye Zhou’s piercing gaze.

The image of the wrinkled old man flashed into Ye Zhou’s mind. “Chubai, how is it over at the old man’s place?”

Just as Ye Zhou had said, after the three separated, Chubai had headed straight to the old man’s house, only to find him absent.

The old man’s dwelling was exceedingly clean with very few unnecessary items. The desk drawer was filled with plenty of blank yellow talismans and vermilion ink. A large chest beside the desk was packed entirely with bizarre ritual implements.

Everything else appeared normal, but just as Chubai thought that was all there was to it, a scratch mark beside the cabinet caught his attention.

He tried pushing the cabinet, and shifting it aside revealed identical scratches underneath.

Once the entire cabinet was moved away, a box buried deep in the dirt was uncovered. Opening it revealed a set of clothing accompanied by a bone headband.

A pungent wave of rust accompanied the discovery. Looking closer, he realized that the black floral patterns he initially thought were part of the fabric were actually painted with dried blood.

Shifting his gaze back to the headband, the chipped section of the bone reminded him of the woman in his dream, whose headband also had a missing corner.

Beneath the clothes lay a slightly yellowed black-and-white photograph. It pictured a young girl in the prime of her youth, looking to be around eighteen or nineteen years old.

Written on the back of the photo in brush calligraphy was a name: Dingxiang.