Chapter 435: The Gods |
Mounted on a yak, Si Qi led a sprawling herd down the mountain, accompanied by Jin Yusheng, Say Dream, and Jiang Junjue.
Jiang Junjue subtly probed for the whereabouts of "Lin Wuya." The mysterious president of the Unnamed Guild had recently made a huge splash, only to vanish without a trace after the Final Instance ended, which was decidedly strange.
Si Qi only smiled, saying nothing. When Jiang Junjue pressed him, he countered with a question of his own: "The Listening Wind Guild seems awfully curious about the internal affairs of our Unnamed Guild. Perhaps you'd care to share the whereabouts of your old leader, Xiao Fengchao?"
That silenced Jiang Junjue.
Jin Yusheng, however, knew what had become of Lin Chen. He had watched with his own eyes as the young man was completely consumed by the weirdness, leading a horde of monsters that swarmed the mountainsides deep into the wilderness.
Now, judging by Si Qi's attitude and the edge in his voice, Jin Yusheng began to wonder: could it be that Lin Chen and Lin Wuya truly weren't the same person?
The full story remained a mystery.
By the time they reached the halfway point of their descent, signs of human settlement became unmistakable. A small cluster of tents stood together, colorful prayer flags hanging from their tops and staked to the ground at the other end. The banners snapped and fluttered in the wind.
Countless footprints had packed the ice and snow, making the ground beneath them hard as iron. Two herdsmen burst out of a tent, exchanged a look upon seeing the yaks, and then turned to the newcomers with eyes full of hostility.
Without the Weird Game's translation feature, the four of them couldn't understand a word of Tibetan. Say Dream hopped off his yak, a broad smile plastered on his face, and began gesturing wildly at the herdsman. It was a complete failure to communicate.
The herdsman babbled on for another moment before returning to his tent with a resentful glare. He emerged seconds later holding a hunting rifle, the muzzle aimed squarely at Say Dream, his voice and expression grim.
After a great deal of painstaking communication, the group finally understood: the herd of yaks belonged to the herdsmen.
The night before, while resting in his tent, the herdsman had suddenly heard the mournful bellows of his yaks outside, one after another, each cry more piercing than the last. The people living on the snow mountain were no purer of heart than anyone else—petty theft was still a reality. Suspecting rustlers, he had grabbed his rifle and charged out of the tent.
And then he saw a sight he would never forget: yaks of all sizes were standing upright like people, prostrating themselves toward the mountain peak, their front hooves raised as if in prayer to some celestial deity. He thought he must be dreaming and rubbed his eyes, but in that single instant, the entire field of kneeling yaks vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed.
That's right. The Weird Game had shamelessly used local resources for its props, and once the Final Instance was over, it had simply dusted off its hands and walked away, leaving the players to deal with the embarrassing aftermath.
Although the herdsman sensed something strange was afoot, that herd was his life. Even if the players had been three-headed, six-armed demons, he would have fought to get his yaks back.
Besides, the players had been abruptly returned to the state of ordinary mortals. They were already suffering from severe altitude sickness, unable to acclimate to the environment, and were so visibly weak they looked ready to collapse.
The group returned the yaks and, through a series of gestures, concocted a story about stumbling upon the lost herd and kindly guiding it back. Their performance was convincing enough to borrow some oxygen tanks from the herdsmen, providing some much-needed relief.
The four continued their descent, now riding mountain goats, only to be intercepted by another group of herdsmen demanding their property back. Fortunately, by then they had reached the foot of the mountain and could see the colorful, bustling town of Shangri-La in the distance.
Unlike the grotesque horror presented in the game instance, the real Shangri-La Town was a perfectly ordinary tourist destination. The streets were filled with visitors in brightly colored clothes, and cheerful laughter wafted from the shops. Young couples posed for photos with their phones while a tour guide, holding a small red flag aloft, called out phrases like "prime photo op" and "Insta-worthy spot."
People occasionally cast furtive glances at the four of them, who had just descended from the snow mountain. With their blood-stained shirts, ill-fitting Tibetan robes, and overall filthy, disheveled appearance, the survivors of a life-and-death ordeal were utterly out of place in the peaceful, picturesque town.
Say Dream calmly spritzed himself with some perfume, then flashed a smile at a girl who had been staring at him longer than anyone. The gesture sent her scurrying away into the crowd.
After a moment of contemplation, his brow furrowed. "Say, does anyone have a phone? No phones, no cash... how are we supposed to get home?" Jiang Junjue threw up his hands. "Let's hope they have facial recognition payment. If not, I guess I can always rely on my good looks, grab a broken bowl, and set up shop on a street corner..."
Say Dream looked touched. "Old Jiang, my safe return home rests entirely on your shoulders!"
High on the snow mountain, the biting wind and heavy snow had blurred the path forward and back, forcing a keen awareness of one's own insignificance. It bred a profound loneliness, the feeling of being utterly alone between heaven and earth.
To be back among people again felt surreal, as if they had been reborn into another world. It was like a penitent soul granted a second life by divine grace. Everything that had happened on the mountain began to fade, losing its sharp edges until it seemed like nothing more than a bizarre, nonsensical dream.
Though the throng of people they'd arrived with had scattered, leaving just the four of them from different factions thrown together by a twist of fate, Say Dream and Jiang Junjue couldn't help but feel a shared sense of relief at having survived.
It was over. They had no idea what chaos awaited them in the outside world, but here, in the secluded town of Shangri-La, they could be carefree. All their worries seemed to melt away, replaced by a moment of stolen tranquility.
If only they could live here forever. If only time could stop at this very moment...
Jin Yusheng counted on his fingers for a moment, his eyelid twitching uncontrollably. "Hey, you two, Si Qi... shouldn't we find a bus and get out of here, fast? Before that 'White Crow' woman figures things out? I have a really bad feeling this isn't over..."
"And where would we run?" Si Qi shook his head. "If White Crow wins, she will undoubtedly have the power of the Ancestral God. She could kill us even if we made it all the way back to Jiang City. And if Fu Jue wins, then there's no need to run at all, is there?"
Jin Yusheng was taken aback. "That's one way to look at it, but just lying down and waiting to die... that doesn't feel right."
"I'm tired," Si Qi said, turning to look Jin Yusheng right in the eye. He flashed a wide, toothy grin. "So tired all I want is to find an inn and get some rest. I have no desire to keep running. If you insist on leaving this place, you might just die of exhaustion on the road before White Crow even gets a chance to act."
There was an undisguised malice in the younger man's voice. Jin Yusheng sensed it keenly and shivered, immediately raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, Si Qi, you win! Besides, I'm dead on my feet. Let's find an inn, rest up, and recharge our batteries!"
With the two of them in agreement, Say Dream and Jiang Junjue had no objections. The decision made, the four of them began wandering down the street in search of an inn with a vacant room, and before they realized it, they had reached the end of the main thoroughfare.
A lone shop with a sign reading 'Mountaineering Preparation' stood at the end of the street. Next to it was a two-story wooden building with red pillars, yellow walls, and a white roof. The eaves, painted blue and green, were lined with rows of bone-white wind chimes.
It was, unmistakably, the very same inn where the players had stayed during the instance.
To have wandered in circles only to end up back here... As veteran, high-ranking players, no matter how nonchalant they might appear, they were cautious to the core. This felt like some kind of fated omen, and they couldn't help but raise their guard.
Jiang Junjue narrowed his eyes, his expression turning suspicious. "Do you guys think we actually left the Final Instance? The more I think about it, the more this feels wrong. What kind of trick is the Weird Game pulling this time?"
"Why don't we go inside and see?" Si Qi said with a smile, stepping directly into the inn. His movement stirred a faint breeze, causing the wind chimes overhead to tinkle softly.
He glanced toward the nearby mountaineering shop. A young woman sat in the dim doorway, dressed in a red and blue Tibetan robe with several strands of colorful beads around her neck. It was Bai Ma, from the Final Instance.
She clearly remembered him. From a distance, she gave a slow nod of greeting, then raised the mirror in her hand and angled it toward him.
For a fleeting moment, his concentration wavered, and he saw a cloud of colorful mist blossom in the mirror's reflection. Turquoise, ochre, magenta, indigo... silks and gauzes of every imaginable type unfurled in a magnificent, phantasmagorical display, as if all the light and color in existence had been gathered in that one spot.
Si Qi snapped his focus back, pretending he hadn't seen a thing. He turned with a smile to Jin Yusheng, who was lingering a few paces behind him. "Come on in," he said. "It's safe inside."