Chapter 41: Lin Kuo, Will You Accept S?

‘.’s Live Stream’

Although the title of this live stream was plain and lacked any highlights, it stood out among the screen full of clickbait titles.

Someone tentatively clicked in.

[Oh my, I knew it was the damn streamer—oh no, big brother-in-law.]
[Wait, what’s with that human-shaped mosaic next to him?]
[What does “hidden true identity” mean? You die if it’s exposed? Why do I feel like he’s full of crap?]
[Could this human-shaped mosaic be—Like a Sweet Breeze?]
[Like a Sweet Breeze has a name, okay? His name is Sheng Wen.]
[Where’s my Zhizhi?]
[A one-star instance? I reasonably suspect the streamer has other intentions.]
[Could this be the legendary—romance instance?!!!]

It took Lin Kuo a while to react.
So Sheng Wen, whom he had always regarded as a little kid… was S.
And he was an S who was half a head taller than him.
Not cute at all anymore.

Lin Kuo silently turned and walked toward the stockade.

Sheng Wen quickly chased after him.
The damn Lord God system had reduced his stamina.
He felt tired after just two steps.
Still, he pushed through the fatigue and chased a few more steps—only to fall behind again.
Panting heavily, he bent over with his hands on his thighs, eyes fixed on the thin, slender back in front of him.

“Gege.”

Lin Kuo stopped.
He clenched his fists, thumb brushing against the ring on his index finger.
The metal felt cold, but for some reason, it was as if Sheng Wen’s warmth still lingered on it.

He could hear Sheng Wen panting behind him.
Without turning around, he said stiffly, “I need to calm down.”

“Okay.”

Lin Kuo walked forward.
After just a few steps, Sheng Wen called out again, “Gege, slow down. I can’t keep up.”

Lin Kuo pursed his lips and said nothing, but he slowed his pace.

Sheng Wen chuckled softly behind him.
He saw it—Lin Kuo had slowed down.
He knew Lin Kuo needed some time to buffer and accept reality.
He didn’t dare walk side by side with him, so he kept a respectful distance.

Just like that, the two of them arrived at Zhuo Zhai.

The sky had already darkened.
Above, a few scattered stars circled a crescent moon.

The old woman Lin Kuo had seen earlier was still sitting beneath the stockade.
When she saw him return, she asked, “Young man, did you find the person you were looking for?”

Lin Kuo felt like she was rubbing salt in the wound.
He didn’t dwell on it.

Knowing she had information about the Gu Battle, he got straight to the point. “I’m looking for a Gu.”

The old woman glanced at him—and caught sight of Sheng Wen approaching slowly behind him.
“Are you two outsiders both looking for a Gu?”

Lin Kuo didn’t want to answer for Sheng Wen.

But Sheng Wen stepped forward, blocking her view of Lin Kuo. “Yes.”

The old woman nodded. “Then you have to go into the stockade and find Granny Chen. But Granny Chen sleeps early and doesn’t like being disturbed. If she’s woken up, she’ll get angry. You can enter the stockade first and find the village chief. He’ll be happy to arrange accommodations.”

“Thanks.”

Sheng Wen was about to walk into the stockade when Lin Kuo quickly reached out and tugged at him—his fingers clutching the hem of Sheng Wen’s clothes.

When Sheng Wen stopped and looked back, Lin Kuo averted his face.
“There’s a problem,” he said.

Sheng Wen didn’t respond right away.
After a moment of silence, Lin Kuo turned and found Sheng Wen staring at his hand with a smile.

It was his right hand—the one wearing the ring Sheng Wen had given him.

Lin Kuo: “…”

He yanked his hand back as if burned, then quickly explained what was bothering him.
“She kept urging us to go into the stockade. Something’s off.”

Sheng Wen nodded solemnly. “Makes sense. What do you think we should do, gege?”

Lin Kuo looked surprised. “You…”

Didn’t you say that the lower district instances were child’s play for you? And now you’re asking me what to do?!

Sheng Wen seemed to read his mind and said calmly, “I always listen to my boyfriend.”

Lin Kuo froze. “Always? Every single one?”

Sheng Wen: “Not quite. You’re my first love.”

Lin Kuo choked. “Come with me.”

Sheng Wen smiled. “Okay.”

Seeing they weren’t going into the stockade, the old woman grew angry again.
This time, she started yelling in the Miao language.

Lin Kuo led Sheng Wen around the side of Zhuo Zhai to the back.
He had been studying the stockade while waiting earlier, and the structure was now firmly imprinted in his mind.

“We’ll go in from here.”
He pointed to an earthen platform pressed against the green mountain slope.

There was a protruding rock on the hillside.

Using the rock as a springboard, they could easily vault into Zhuo Zhai.
Zhuo Zhai was tied to the instance—it wasn’t a place they could avoid.
But that old woman had I’m up to no good written all over her face. That was exactly why Lin Kuo brought Sheng Wen here instead.

The two of them vaulted into Zhuo Zhai.

The inside looked vastly different from the outside.
From the mountainside, you could clearly see the layered stilt houses, but once inside, their vision was almost entirely obstructed.
A thick black fog loomed in front of them, with faint specks of blood floating within it.

Lin Kuo was the first to vault in.
He landed lightly and waited for Sheng Wen.

In the fog, he couldn’t see Sheng Wen’s face clearly—only a vague silhouette.
Thankfully, the fog didn’t muffle sound.

He heard the thud of Sheng Wen landing.
Then—pause.
That… didn’t sound like a proper landing.

Did he fall?

Lin Kuo’s fingers twitched.
He reached out his hand.

In the thick fog, Sheng Wen was crouched low. “Gege, there are footprints on the ground.”

The ground wasn’t paved. It was a flat stretch of yellow earth.
A layer of dust coated it—but Lin Kuo couldn’t see any footprints.

“Where?” he asked. He gave up trying to see and instead listened.

Sheng Wen replied, “Take two steps forward. Then squat down and reach out your hand.”

Lin Kuo didn’t question it.
He followed the instructions—two steps, squat, reach.

Just as he lowered himself, he felt a presence.
They were crouched so close their bodies almost touched.

Lin Kuo leaned back slightly and reached out—
—and touched Sheng Wen’s hand.

Sheng Wen: “Your hand is so cold.”

Lin Kuo: “…”

He tried to pull back, but Sheng Wen caught him off guard by gripping his hand.

He struggled a little.

Sheng Wen murmured, “Gege, don’t move.”

While Lin Kuo hesitated, Sheng Wen gently guided his hand, pressing it flat against the ground.

“Do you feel it?” Sheng Wen whispered.

Lin Kuo hummed softly in response.

Besides the warmth of Sheng Wen’s palm, he could feel the texture of the ground—
Uneven impressions, not too large, not too small.

Paw prints?

Sheng Wen spoke in a low tone. “The front and back prints overlap. The creature was probably moving in leaps. Five toes… spread far apart. It’s a weasel.”

He continued, “That blind old woman at the entrance warned us. Said if we didn’t enter the stockade, we’d be dragged off by the weasels on the mountain. So these tracks match her warning.”

“Also—Miao architecture is typically built against mountains and near water, embedded in the hillside. That large rock we used? It should’ve been cleared when the stockade was constructed. Leaving it there conveniently… is suspicious. It’s more likely that rock was meant to help something jump in.”

Sheng Wen paused, then added, “So we can guess it was left there for the weasels.”

“But there are two odd things,” he went on. “First—the yellow earth isn’t soft. Weasels are cautious, and they wouldn’t leave so many prints behind on hard ground. Second—the prints are deep. A weasel isn’t an elephant. Its paws shouldn’t leave impressions like that. Gege, what do you think?”

Lin Kuo said nothing.

“…Gege?”

Lin Kuo coughed lightly.

He had been… focused.
Sheng Wen’s voice—when he wasn’t singing—was oddly pleasant.
And… this was the first time someone had ever explained clue deductions to him in such detail during an instance.

Sheng Wen sounded worried. “Are you not feeling well? Did you inhale some dust?”

Lin Kuo said stiffly, “No.”

He pushed away the thoughts swirling in his mind and asked, “You understood the Miao language?”

Lin Kuo couldn’t recall the old woman ever mentioning weasels—unless it was during that unintelligible string of Miao gibberish.

Sheng Wen nodded. “I remember a few keywords.”

He’d been through so many Miao-region instances he’d lost count.
Though the Lord God system had restricted 80% of his thinking ability, he could still grasp the gist of Miao dialects.

But he didn’t mention the system’s interference—he didn’t want Lin Kuo to feel guilty.

Smiling gently, Sheng Wen asked, “Why aren’t you talking? Are you—”

Lin Kuo suddenly raised a hand and covered his mouth. “Someone’s coming.”

Through the low-visibility fog, the sound of rustling footsteps could be heard.

From the pattern of the sound, Lin Kuo judged it was human.

Sure enough, a nervous voice called out a few meters away, “Who’s there?”

Neither Lin Kuo nor Sheng Wen replied.

The person fumbled around, as if searching for a weapon, then began creeping toward them step by step.

Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed at them.

“I’ll beat you bunch of harmful beasts to death!”

Sheng Wen reacted instantly.
He pulled Lin Kuo close, shielding him in his arms.

Thwack.

A stick slammed heavily into Sheng Wen’s back.

“f*ck,” Sheng Wen grunted, teeth clenched.
He turned to look at Lin Kuo. “It hurts like hell.”

Lin Kuo: “Mmph.”

Hearing their voices, the attacker froze.
“…Is—is it a person?”

Sheng Wen said unhappily, “If not a person, could it be a weasel?”

The person hesitated, then swallowed. “Is it really… a person?”

Sheng Wen held back his sarcasm. “Can weasels talk? Bro, how old are you? What books have you read? What medicine are you on?”

After thoroughly roasting him, Sheng Wen turned to Lin Kuo. “Are you okay?”

Lin Kuo shook his head and, after a long pause, asked, “What about you?”

Sheng Wen replied casually, “I’m fine. Just almost got beaten to death.”

Lin Kuo’s heart tightened. “Where are you hurt?”

He had clearly heard the whistle of that stick cutting through the air.
If it had hit Sheng Wen’s head… it could have been fatal.

Sheng Wen said, “Shoulder. Maybe my shoulder blade’s fractured.”

“Let me see,” Lin Kuo said, already reaching out toward him.

Sheng Wen caught his hand and grinned. “Later. Let’s deal with this guy first. After that, you can look however you want.”

Lin Kuo: “…”

The person: “…”

The man was taken aback by Sheng Wen’s blatant flirtation. After a long moment of silence, he finally said, “Are you… instance participants? I didn’t do it on purpose. The weasels here… really can talk.”

Lin Kuo’s brow furrowed sharply.

Even Sheng Wen looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected that.

Before either could speak, the man added, “You guys should come with me first. Nights in this stockade are very dangerous.”

Lin Kuo hesitated. He was still deciding whether to trust this person.
After all, the guy had just whacked Sheng Wen—first impressions mattered.

But Sheng Wen didn’t rush him.
He remained silent, waiting for Lin Kuo’s decision.

Finally, Lin Kuo gave a soft mm. “Let’s go take a look.”

Judging from the rules of this Gu Battle instance, it didn’t seem to pit participants against each other. That reduced a lot of the danger.
Even if this man turned out to be hostile, with the two of them together, they wouldn’t be at a disadvantage.

They followed the man as he led them through the winding paths of the stockade.

Before long, they arrived outside a stilt house.
The man went in first, lit a lamp, and poked his head back out. “Come in.”

Lin Kuo was 182 centimeters tall, and Sheng Wen was half a head taller than him.
As they entered the stilt house, a strange sense of oppression fell over them—
The ceiling felt like it could clip their heads if they so much as straightened their backs.

The man held the lamp and sized them up. “Just entered the instance?”

Lin Kuo nodded.

Under the halo of the oil lamp, he glanced sideways at Sheng Wen, his eyes falling on his shoulder.

Sheng Wen wore a round-neck black T-shirt.
Though the color concealed it, dust still clung faintly to the fabric—right on the shoulder that had taken the hit.

Sheng Wen noticed his gaze. “I’m fine for now.”

He then looked up at the man, his deep eyes flickering slightly. “What’s with the weasels?”

At the mention of it, the man’s expression changed noticeably.

“Do you still remember the name of this instance?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Gu Battle,” Lin Kuo answered.

He still hadn’t figured out what weasels had to do with Gu.

The man said fearfully, “The weasels want to steal the Gu.”

Lin Kuo frowned.

The man quickly added, “Don’t get it?”

He paused, then tried again. “Everyone in this stockade raises Gu. The weasels love stealing them. The more they steal—and eat—the more evil they become. When that evil builds up to a certain threshold, they… swap lives.”

Before either of them could interrupt, the man clarified, “Actually, calling it ‘swapping lives’ isn’t accurate. These beasts are… unnatural. They even have a nickname—I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

“In some rural villages, they’re called the Great Weasel Immortal.”

He paused to check their reactions, then continued. “They’re incredibly smart. Especially the weasels here—they kill people.”

“Usually, two to four of them will bite a person to death from behind the neck. Then they cut a slit down the spine… and crawl inside.”

Lin Kuo’s eyes darkened slightly.

The man went on, expression grave. “Once they’ve eaten the internal organs, two to five weasels will start moving around in the person’s skin. They’ll mimic human speech, learn human behavior.”

Just as Lin Kuo was about to speak, he noticed Sheng Wen’s face had gone pale.

He’s scared.

The man noticed too and added gently, “It’s terrifying, yeah. The worst part is, once they wear human skin, you can’t tell the difference.”

Lin Kuo hesitated for a moment, then softly called out, “Sheng Wen.”

That snapped him out of it slightly.

Sheng Wen forced a smile. “It’s okay. Continue.”

He smiled on the outside—but internally, he cursed the Lord God system several times over.

Because of the cognitive suppression, he had become unusually sensitive to supernatural horror.
The fear hit him harder now than it normally would have.

Lin Kuo glanced at him again, then turned back to the man. “So the weasels wear human skin for what purpose?”

He had a guess—and said it out loud.
“You said they love stealing Gu. But after wearing human skin, they lose the advantage of their body size. So… are they trying to learn how to raise Gu like humans?”

Sheng Wen’s face turned even paler.

The man blinked in surprise.
He hadn’t expected Lin Kuo to guess the truth so quickly.

After a brief pause, he nodded.

Lin Kuo pressed, “What do Gu eat?”

The man fell silent for a moment. “Depends on how you raise them. Gu insects can eat anything. If you feed them vegetable leaves, they’ll eat them.”

“But…” he added, “a Gu raised on vegetables is just a ‘vegetable Gu.’ And once it’s in the arena, it’ll be eaten by stronger Gu.”

Lin Kuo nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful.

He was beginning to understand.

He knew why this was a cultivation-type instance.

The instance wanted participants to raise Gu insects.
Once matured, these Gu would be taken to the Gu battle arena to fight.
If they won, the instance would end.
As for the punishment for losing… Lin Kuo didn’t even need to think to guess.

The person said, “I see you two are empty-handed. You haven’t been to Granny Chen’s place yet, have you?”

Lin Kuo nodded.

“Granny Chen is asleep. You can go find her tomorrow morning to get the Gu seeds. You can stay here tonight. The village chief should arrange accommodation for you tomorrow.”

Lin Kuo replied, “Thank you,” then asked, “What’s your name?”

“Fang Lei.”

“Lin Kuo.”
After a pause, he added, “He’s Sheng Wen.”

Fang Lei nodded. “Mm-hm, go get some rest.”

Seeing Sheng Wen, he added a little awkwardly, “Sorry, handsome. I thought it was a weasel…”

Sheng Wen snorted, his face clearly saying I don’t accept your apology.

Fang Lei stood up and opened two empty rooms. “There happen to be two empty rooms. You can pick one for yourselves.”

Lin Kuo: “Okay.”

Fang Lei: “Then I’ll go to bed first.”

Lin Kuo: “Mm.”

After Fang Lei left, Lin Kuo and Sheng Wen stood in silence, staring at each other.

Lin Kuo asked stiffly, “Your shoulder…”

Sheng Wen: “Now it’s a problem.”

Lin Kuo: “So?”

Sheng Wen: “We stay together.”

Lin Kuo: “…Okay.”

He chose the leftmost empty room.

Seeing that, Sheng Wen walked in first, not waiting for an invitation.

As Lin Kuo followed, he gave Fang Lei’s door a complicated glance before quietly closing their own.

When he turned around, Sheng Wen had already started taking off his clothes.

“…What are you doing?” Lin Kuo asked.

“Didn’t gege want to see my injury before?”

“You don’t have to take it all off…” Lin Kuo muttered as he approached.

Sheng Wen pulled down his collar, exposing his shoulder with a delicate, almost wifely air.

Lin Kuo looked stiffly at it.
He could tell just how hard Fang Lei’s blow had been.
The entire shoulder was already bruised black and blue.

A flicker of emotion passed through Lin Kuo’s eyes. “Does it hurt?”

Sheng Wen: “It hurts.”

Lin Kuo: “Then I’ll go find something to put on it for you.”

Sheng Wen: “No need, just blow on it and it’ll be fine.”

Lin Kuo held it in. “Are you kidding me?”

Sheng Wen: “Really, I’m not lying to you.”

The word lie pricked something in Lin Kuo’s chest.
He stood there a long time, unmoving.

Sheng Wen gently pulled him closer.
Anticipating resistance, he first wrapped his arms around Lin Kuo’s waist. “You’re even thinner than I imagined.”

Lin Kuo tensed. He wasn’t used to being held like this.
Just as he was about to push Sheng Wen away, his eyes fell again on that bruised shoulder—and he froze.

After a long pause, he asked quietly, “Will blowing on it really make it better?”

Sheng Wen: “You can try.”

Lin Kuo bent down slightly.
Just as he was about to reach Sheng Wen’s shoulder, he heard Sheng Wen whisper, voice lowered even further:

“Fang Lei is fishy.”

“Mm,” Lin Kuo murmured.

He’d already noticed.

There were too many suspicious things about Fang Lei.

For one, he’d clearly said nights in Zhuo Zhai were dangerous… yet he’d been out at night himself.
And where they met wasn’t even close to Fang Lei’s residence.

Then there was the story about the weasels—about ‘life-swapping.’

Fang Lei had told that story with too much belief.
If he didn’t think it was real, he couldn’t have described it so vividly.
Which raised a question—if he really believed in that kind of creature, wasn’t he afraid they might be weasels in human skin?

Lastly, there was the matter of the stilt houses.

When Lin Kuo had waited for Sheng Wen, he counted them—less than thirty.
But this instance used a flowing player system.
The number of participants wasn’t fixed.
There was no way the village chief could give each participant their own house.

So even if Sheng Wen hadn’t suggested they share a room, Lin Kuo would’ve brought it up himself.

Sheng Wen asked softly, “Is gege scared?”

“Are you scared?” Lin Kuo replied.

Sheng Wen sighed. “Yeah, I’m scared. But it’s a lot better with my boyfriend next to me. So tonight… can we sleep together?”

Lin Kuo had the faint impression that Sheng Wen had been waiting for him to ask.

He responded bluntly, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll do something to you?”

Sheng Wen raised an eyebrow. “What will you do to me?”

“I can do a lot,” Lin Kuo said, deliberately trying to scare him.

Sheng Wen: “Will you do this and that to me?”

Lin Kuo was quiet for a moment. “…Are you scared?”

Sheng Wen considered it. “A little.”

Lin Kuo said, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

He gently pushed Sheng Wen away and opened the simple wardrobe.

Just as he expected, there was a quilt inside.

He reached out to pull it down—
and paused the moment his hand touched it.

Other quilts were soft, but the one Lin Kuo’s hand touched was different.
The surface was slightly hard—the texture of dried mucus.
Lin Kuo withdrew his hand and looked at the quilt again.
There were indeed dark marks on it.

He hesitated for a moment, then turned to Sheng Wen. “Close your eyes.”

Sheng Wen probably guessed that Lin Kuo had discovered something, so he obediently closed his eyes.
But when Lin Kuo turned around, Sheng Wen couldn’t help but peek through a small slit.

Lin Kuo made sure Sheng Wen couldn’t see, then stared intently at the quilt.
Because the texture was hard, even the faint shaking of the fabric stood out.
He steeled himself and yanked the quilt out of the closet.

A sharp, ultrasonic kaka sound rang out.

The quilt hit the floor, pulling out a pile of yellowish-brown things with it.
Lin Kuo jumped back.
After seeing clearly what was wrapped in the quilt, he frowned in disgust.

Inside was a pile of overlapping weasel cubs.
They were pressing down on a black, fist-sized insect.
The ones with teeth were gnawing at it; the toothless ones licked at its blood with their tongues.

The insect was clearly only fist-sized, but the blood on its body seemed endless.
It arched up—
—and more weasel cubs pounced.
But the insect retaliated.

The weasel cubs it bit died without even a squeak.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Fang Lei’s voice came from outside: “Lin Kuo, Sheng Wen? What’s wrong?”
Lin Kuo: “Nothing.”
Sheng Wen added casually, “We’re just playing around. What? You want to join?”

Fang Lei: “…”

After a pause, he said, “This room’s against the mountain. If you’re scared, you can switch rooms.”
Lin Kuo: “It’s okay. Thanks.”

Silence returned.
Lin Kuo looked at the pile of weasel cubs at his feet.
They were still gnawing on the insect, too focused to make a sound.
The room fell into a strange, sticky silence.

Just as Lin Kuo was about to deal with the nest of cubs—

Fang Lei’s voice came again from outside: “Then I’m going to bed.”

Lin Kuo’s expression darkened. “Mm.”

He turned around and mouthed to Sheng Wen: Fang Lei is listening for any movement.
Sheng Wen nodded. “Baby, go to sleep quickly.”
Lin Kuo: “…Coming.”

He stepped over the weasel cubs and sat on the edge of the bed.
Sheng Wen shook out the quilt and threw it to the floor.
He held out his hand—bloodstained fingers—and said, “Good night, baby.”
Lin Kuo: “…Good night.”

As his words fell, faint footsteps could be heard outside.
In a short while, they faded away.
Fang Lei had probably left.

Lin Kuo whispered, “I have a guess.”
Sheng Wen wiped the blood on his fingers onto the wall. “What a coincidence. I have one too. Gege goes first—let’s see if we’re on the same page.”

Lin Kuo glanced at the Gu insect on the floor, then at the blood smeared on the wall.
He said, “Fang Lei is either feeding the Gu with the weasels, or he’s feeding the weasel cubs with the Gu.”

These two eithers held completely different implications.

Weasels were notoriously vengeful.
If Fang Lei dared to feed the Gu with weasel cubs, then he was a ruthless man—
And such a man wouldn’t hesitate to feed Lin Kuo and Sheng Wen to the Gu too, just to strengthen it.

But if he was feeding the weasel cubs with the Gu insect…
Then Fang Lei might be the weasel in human skin from his own life-swapping story.

In that case, they’d still end up as food.
Once the Gu had finished them, it would be thrown to the cubs to eat.

No matter which version it was, things weren’t looking good.

After hearing this, Sheng Wen asked, “What’s gege’s plan? Going to test it?”

Lin Kuo couldn’t shake the feeling that the old woman at the entrance of Zhuo Zhai was a problem.
He didn’t know if it was the influence of the previous few instances, but this time—
He’d figured out the routine on the first night.

That made him uneasy.
Clues offered too easily usually come with strings attached.
Like a scumbag texting, “Let’s just meet once,” when he actually had other intentions.

So Lin Kuo said, “There are still too few clues. Let’s observe a bit more tomorrow.”

Sheng Wen nodded.
He had watched every instance Lin Kuo had been through—he knew Lin Kuo was cautious.
So he gave up the idea of simply killing Fang Lei and snatching his Gu insect.

Sheng Wen said, “Whatever my boyfriend says is right.”

He noticed Lin Kuo staring at him, as if hesitant to speak.
“…What’s wrong?” he asked.

Lin Kuo asked awkwardly, “Was that what you were thinking too?”

Sheng Wen couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course.”

Lin Kuo let out a subtle breath of relief.

Sheng Wen noticed but didn’t say anything.
He rolled off the bed, bent down slightly, and gathered up the quilt with bloodstained hands.
He walked to the window and, without hesitation, threw the weasel cubs and the Gu insect out together.

Then he said, “Gege, I’m going to wash my hands.”

He had only taken a few steps when Lin Kuo called out, “I’ll go with you.”
Sheng Wen smiled. “That would be great.”

The two of them opened the door and glanced at Fang Lei’s room.
After confirming there was no movement, they quietly went off in search of the bathroom.

Sheng Wen turned on the faucet to wash his hands, and Lin Kuo stood silently beside him.

Lin Kuo’s reason for insisting they leave the room together was simple.
He could tell Sheng Wen was actually scared.
When he had thrown the weasel cubs earlier, his brows were almost completely furrowed.

So Lin Kuo accompanied him to wash his hands.

The water flowed .

Lin Kuo’s thoughts drifted.
Although Sheng Wen was S, he probably wasn’t so bored as to enter this one-star instance just to mess around with him.

He glanced sideways. Sheng Wen was vigorously rubbing his hands.
The bloodstains wouldn’t wash off, and his face was full of irritation.

Lin Kuo pointed at the basin. “There’s soapberry there. You can crush it and use it.”

Sheng Wen instantly reined in his impatience and, changing expressions as if flipping a switch, said, “My boyfriend is so smart.”

He picked up the soapberry and smacked it a couple of times with his palm.

The soapberry remained intact.

His hand, however, trembled slightly from the force—as if he’d struck too hard and numbed himself.

Sheng Wen tried again, and again, but it wouldn’t break.

Lin Kuo held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

Sheng Wen gladly handed the soapberry over.

Lin Kuo clenched his fist and smashed it a few times, not even using much strength.
Soon, the fibrous tissue and pulp inside were exposed.

He handed the crushed pieces back. “Rub it under warm water for a while. It’ll lather.”

A big smile spread across Sheng Wen’s face.

When he took the soapberry from Lin Kuo, their hands brushed.
Lin Kuo instinctively wanted to pull away, but worried the pieces might fall, so he let Sheng Wen take the opportunity.

Sheng Wen’s hand was much warmer than his.

Lin Kuo pursed his lips.

While feeling the heat from Sheng Wen’s hand, he took a small step back and thought, I’m penniless and even owe him points. Even if he’s just toying with me, I haven’t really lost anything.

After passing over all the pieces, Lin Kuo quietly withdrew his hand.
He watched as Sheng Wen turned on the warm water and began rubbing the crushed soapberry between his palms.

With strength like that, he can’t even break a soapberry. Who’s really at a disadvantage isn’t so certain.

If… if Sheng Wen really is just playing with me, Lin Kuo thought, then my name isn’t Liu Xiahui. Since he came to my door to provoke me, I’ll just… give him a taste of his own medicine.

Sheng Wen, unaware of all the things Lin Kuo had just contemplated behind his calm expression, washed his hands with the herbal-scented paste.
The bloodstains vanished, and the fragrance of natural plants lingered on his skin.

He looked at Lin Kuo and teased, “Boyfriend, what are you thinking about?”

Lin Kuo didn’t answer.

Sheng Wen reached out and flicked Lin Kuo’s nose. “My hands are clean now. Let’s go back to sleep.”

The two returned to the room.

Sheng Wen straightened the bedsheet, checking if it was still clean.
After confirming there were no bloodstains, he lay down fully clothed and patted the space beside him—clearly inviting Lin Kuo to join.

The room still reeked faintly of blood, so Lin Kuo had to abandon the idea of sleeping on the floor.

He glanced at Sheng Wen and said stiffly, “You sleep on the inside.”

Sheng Wen smiled. “Trying to protect me?”

Lin Kuo: “Hurry up.”

After Sheng Wen obediently shifted against the wall, Lin Kuo lay down beside him with his clothes still on.

Feeling some movement beside him, Lin Kuo sat up and drew an invisible three-eight line in the air.
He warned coldly, “Cross this line, and I won’t be polite to you.”

Sheng Wen raised an eyebrow. “How won’t you be polite?”

Lin Kuo: “You can try and see.”

Sheng Wen snorted with laughter. “Just asking. Gege, don’t be so fierce with me.”

Lin Kuo ignored him, lay back down, and closed his eyes.

Seeing that, Sheng Wen also quieted down.

This was Lin Kuo’s fourth consecutive instance.
Even though it was just a one-star, Sheng Wen wanted him to get proper rest.

He whispered, “Good night.”

Lin Kuo didn’t respond.

But maybe because Sheng Wen was beside him, Lin Kuo felt a bit more secure.
His body gradually relaxed, and he soon drifted into sleep.

The next morning, Lin Kuo opened his eyes—only to find himself in Sheng Wen’s arms.

Sheng Wen was still asleep.

Lin Kuo didn’t dare to move.
He simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, dazed.

Two minutes passed.

A low chuckle tickled his ear.

The voice murmured smugly, “Gege, what would you have done if I kept pretending to be asleep?”

Lin Kuo: “…”

Damn it.

“Don’t be mad.” Sheng Wen tightened his hold and nuzzled Lin Kuo’s back. “Good morning, boyfriend.”

Lin Kuo tried to suppress his racing heart and said coolly, “You crossed the line.”

But instead of letting go, Sheng Wen added provocatively, “So? Gonna be impolite to me? Then come on.”

Lin Kuo abruptly sat up and pinned Sheng Wen to the bed.

Sheng Wen gave a surprised laugh and struggled a few times. “Holy shit, gege, you’re not gonna hit me, are you?”

Of course, Lin Kuo wasn’t going to hit him.

He grabbed Sheng Wen’s collar and tugged a few times—just to scare him.
A small warning to stop being so shameless.

But then, he caught sight of the bruises on Sheng Wen’s body… and froze.

The childish act ended there.

A hint of guilt welled up in Lin Kuo’s heart.

He had almost forgotten—
The person he had pinned down was injured, and completely defenseless.

His tugging at Sheng Wen’s clothes hadn’t even been hard.
But Sheng Wen misunderstood, thinking he’d gone too far with the teasing.

So he said softly, like he was coaxing a temperamental child:
“It was windy last night… I was afraid you’d be cold, so I had to ‘cross the line’.”

That only made Lin Kuo feel worse.

He’d always responded to softness, never to force. Now he was at a complete loss for what to do.

Just then, Sheng Wen caught the flicker of guilt in Lin Kuo’s eyes.
He immediately added, “Gege, don’t press on me. I won’t dare cross the line again.”

Lin Kuo: “…”

In the next second, Lin Kuo released him, jumped off the bed, opened the door, and ran out.

He was wrong.

Sheng Wen wasn’t a little kid.
Not cute at all!

—

Outside, Lin Kuo ran into Fang Lei, who was cooking breakfast.

Hearing the noise, Fang Lei turned slightly. “Up so early? I’m making breakfast. Do you and Sheng Wen want some?”

Lin Kuo’s gaze swept over him.

The stilt house wasn’t big.
As Fang Lei turned his neck slightly to speak, Lin Kuo clearly saw it: a twisted red line starting at the back of his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

Just as he suspected last night.

Fang Lei wasn’t human.
He was just a skin.
Lin Kuo didn’t know how many weasels were piled underneath to hold it up.

He paused, then said calmly, “Sheng Wen and I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

Fang Lei made a casual sound of acknowledgment. “Alright then. Is Sheng Wen up too? You could take a walk around the stockade. Maybe check if Granny Chen is awake?”

Lin Kuo replied, “Okay.”

He turned and went back inside.

—

Sheng Wen was fiddling with his phone when Lin Kuo returned.
As soon as he saw him, he put it away. “What’s wrong, gege?”

“Let’s go for a walk outside.”

Sheng Wen smiled. “Okay.”

The two washed up briefly and headed out to explore Zhuo Zhai.

They walked to the main gate, where the old woman from yesterday was still sitting.

Lin Kuo had intended to ask her some questions, but as he stepped near the entrance, he suddenly stopped.

Sheng Wen asked, “What’s wrong?”

“…We can’t get out,” Lin Kuo said after a long pause.

Though the gate was right in front of them, something invisible blocked the way—as if there were a wall of air they couldn’t cross.

Sheng Wen narrowed his eyes. “So that’s why that blind old woman was so eager to get us inside. Looks like… if we don’t raise a Gu, or if our Gu can’t beat the others, we’re stuck here forever.”

He tilted his head. “So, gege, do we go find Granny Chen? Or the village chief?”

Both the old woman and the Fang Lei-thing had mentioned those two.
Which meant neither of them could be trusted.

But if they didn’t find one of them, they couldn’t raise a Gu.
And that meant they’d be trapped here.

Lin Kuo thought for a few seconds. “…Let’s go secretly.”

Sheng Wen grinned. “What a coincidence. I was thinking the same thing.”

But they didn’t know where Granny Chen lived.

They wandered two laps around Zhuo Zhai but didn’t see another soul.

Whether it was because they woke too early, or Zhuo Zhai simply didn’t have many residents, the entire stockade felt strangely… vacant.

Sheng Wen finally stopped and flopped down on a wooden bench. “Let’s rest a bit.”

Lin Kuo looked at him, delicate and beautiful in the morning light.
“…Are you thirsty?” he asked stiffly.

Sheng Wen blinked. “A little.”

“You stay here. I’ll find some water.”

“My boyfriend is so nice.”

Lin Kuo turned and left.

Behind him, Sheng Wen called out, “Be careful! Don’t go too far. If you can’t find any, it’s fine.”

“Mm.”

As Lin Kuo walked away, Sheng Wen pulled out his phone and sent a message:

[Sheng Wen]: 5000 points. You know what to do.
[Guan Miao]: I’m on it.
[Guan Miao]: Live stream title?
[Sheng Wen]: I don’t know. You pick.
(A pause.)
[Guan Miao]: He has a room manager.
[Sheng Wen]: Do I need to teach you?
[Guan Miao]: …Fine.
[Sheng Wen]: If I block the stream, I can reveal I’m S, right?
[Guan Miao]: Let me confirm.
[Sheng Wen]: Hurry up.

Guan Miao didn’t reply right away.
But Lin Kuo returned—empty-handed.

“I didn’t go far,” Lin Kuo said apologetically. “Didn’t find any.”

Sheng Wen gave him a brilliant smile. “It’s okay. Love is enough to quench thirst. I’m not thirsty anymore.”

Lin Kuo was about to say something, but Sheng Wen had already looked back down at his phone.

[Guan Miao]: If you block the stream, viewers won’t see anything. So yeah—you can say what you want. They won’t know.
[Sheng Wen]: Good.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief, then looked back at Lin Kuo. “I’ve changed your temporary room manager.”

Lin Kuo’s system prompt confirmed it.

He stared blankly. “Why?”

Sheng Wen tapped away a few more times on his phone and said calmly, “I asked Guan Miao to block your stream. Just for five minutes.”

He looked straight at Lin Kuo.

“I’ll make it quick.”

Lin Kuo’s gaze sharpened.

Sheng Wen didn’t flinch.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he said. “I made a smurf because you muted my main. When you entered the Walled City, I knew if people found out I was your room manager, it would only bring you trouble. I just wanted to give you a nudge, quietly.”

“I didn’t expect…” He paused, then smiled softly. “I didn’t expect I’d become so interested in you. And that interest eventually… turned into something else.”

Sheng Wen held Lin Kuo’s gaze and said firmly:

“I’m a top-level resident above Upper City A. I come from District S. I am S. The only one in the entire sector.”

He continued, voice low but unwavering:

“I’m telling you this not because I lied earlier about being from City C, but because I want to make things right. From now on—no more lies.”

A pause.

Then—

“Lin Kuo,” Sheng Wen said. “Will you accept S?”

---