Returning to the village chief's house, Ding Shi shut the main gate and walked toward the side guest room. He knew he had to get some sleep. Now that Sun Qi was dead, whether a zombie would ambush him in his slumber was left entirely to the will of Heaven.
A drop of water fell from the sky, landing on Ding Shi's shoulder. Ding Shi instinctively turned his head to look, but in the dark, he saw no wet mark. The next second, Ghost San Niang materialized out of thin air on the main house's roof. Claws outstretched, she drifted toward Ding Shi—not especially fast, as though savoring her prey's terror before death.
Ding Shi wrenched his shirt with both hands, popping open the entire row of buttons in an instant and baring his toned chest. With another yank, he stripped the garment off and flung it at Ghost San Niang, simultaneously striding out of the courtyard and under the covered corridor before the guest room.
The shirt draped over Ghost San Niang's head, yet it did not slow her down; she continued lunging for Ding Shi's back. Just as her claws were about to graze him, a bolt of lightning appeared out of nowhere and slammed Ghost San Niang to the ground.
Ghost San Niang instantly let out a shrill, agonized shriek. Ding Shi looked back and saw a spinning yin-yang diagram appear on her back, crackling with countless sparks of electricity. Like a dying fish, Ghost San Niang thrashed and rolled across the courtyard, desperate to dull even a fraction of the agony.
Seeing this, Ding Shi felt no rush. Sitting down on the door threshold, he lit a cigarette and cheered her on, "Come on, give me another bounce."
At that moment, Ding Shi was certain he saw emotion in San Niang's eyes—a burning, irreconcilable hatred that swore to fight him to the bitter end. Ding Shi asked in puzzlement, "What, am I not allowed to watch?"
Ghost San Niang kept shrieking and writhing in the courtyard, her eyes fixed venomously on Ding Shi. Her expression answered his question: You may look upon me in terror, but you may not gloat over my humiliation.
As time trickled by, the sparks dwindled, and Ghost San Niang gradually grew quiet. After about five minutes, the sparks vanished, and Ghost San Niang disappeared along with them. Ding Shi knew this disappearance was not like her usual fading; five minutes was the punishment meted out to Ghost San Niang by the Heavenly Dao's rules.
Truth be told, Ghost San Niang had a grievance too; she was merely executing killings in strict accordance with the Heavenly Dao's requirements. The crux of the problem was how Ding Shi's shirt-stripping action was calculated.
The system's logic was rather simple: Both sides have a point, so San Niang loses. The reason: San Niang won't lodge a complaint, so blast her anyway. It didn't spare a shred of consideration for Ghost San Niang's self-esteem. Unlike Zombie San Niang, Ghost San Niang possessed intelligence. Earlier, she had been furious at Haitang for failing to stand up for herself; now, she was enraged by Ding Shi's arrogance. Unable to argue with the Heavenly Dao, she naturally transferred all her resentment over being struck by lightning onto Ding Shi.
Compared to Ghost San Niang, Ding Shi feared Zombie San Niang and her pack of lackeys even more. He could go without drinking water, and he could avoid getting rained on, but he could not go without sleep.
Over the past seven days, Ding Shi had averaged under five hours of sleep a night. Last night had been another all-nighter, and with the perpetual darkness lingering, he had reached the point where he could nod off on his feet.
Just as Ding Shi resolved to get a few hours of sleep, Pan'er's shrill screams echoed from the courtyard. Ding Shi pulled back a corner of the curtain and peered outside, only to see two figures in red ganging up on Pan'er.
Ding Shi deduced what had happened: Zombie San Niang had driven Pan'er out into the courtyard, where the rain triggered Ghost San Niang's killing rule, and the two San Niangs teamed up to finish her off.
What a pity. It would have been far better if the village chief had died instead of Pan'er.
Having finished the kill, Ghost San Niang dutifully vanished. Zombie San Niang, after drinking her fill of blood, flew up to the roof and perched on the tiles before soaring forward like an actor on wirework in a xianxia drama, her red robes billowing in the wind.
How could anyone dare sleep through this?
Ding Shi snapped his fingers and retrieved his homemade rubber oxygen hose. He slipped one end through a rat hole into the adjacent granary and brought the other into his quilt, then buried his head beneath the covers. Whether from a lack of oxygen or sheer exhaustion, the moment Ding Shi relaxed, he drifted into a deep, groggy slumber.
What Ding Shi never expected was that this sleep lasted over twenty hours, ending only when a bursting bladder woke him up.
Upon waking, Ding Shi first checked the system time. It was already 7:00 AM on the eighth day. His first thought: That actually worked? His second thought: Organize my items.
At present, Ding Shi possessed one skill card: Three Short of One. It could be slotted into his skill card slot.
As for item cards, there were quite a few: the monster-revealing mirror, a set of flying daggers, the fowling piece, gunpowder, steel shot, the Wordless Heavenly Book, the Seven of Spades, the ghost-attracting bell, and the Five Thunders Talisman. On top of those were miscellaneous items like the claw hammer and cigarettes.
He had only four slots, meaning Ding Shi could only take four items with him.
The Wordless Heavenly Book, the Seven of Spades, and the Five Thunders Talisman were absolute musts. The contenders for the final spot were the monster-revealing mirror, the ghost-attracting bell, the flying daggers, and the fowling piece. If possible, Ding Shi would have loved to take a cooking pot, a few jin of meat, a sack of rice, a bed...
The monster-revealing mirror was a magical treasure, but without the corresponding incantation, it was useless junk. The fowling piece was the runt of the firearms family, definitely not worth picking. As for the ghost-attracting bell... In the end, Ding Shi chose the flying daggers—for no particular reason other than he liked them. To put it bluntly, he had decided from the very beginning to invite the flying daggers as guests to his Sea-Island Villa.
Fifty minutes remained. Ding Shi glanced out the window; dawn had broken. Although dark clouds blanketed the sky, daylight had truly returned. Even better, it wasn't raining, and the fog had dissipated.
Ding Shi left the room and turned right, locating the wooden chamber pot. After five seconds of deliberation, he decided to sit down to pee, lest any droplets splash onto his shoes and summon Ghost San Niang. Daylight might have returned, but ghost only knew whether Ghost San Niang was still around.
Pan'er's corpse still lay in the courtyard. Because she had been killed first by Ghost San Niang, she hadn't turned into a zombie. Holding a large black umbrella, Ding Shi crouched beside Pan'er's body as he passed, closed her eyes, and covered her with a blanket.
"Xiao Ding."
Ding Shi leaped up with a start. Turning around to see the village chief holding his cane, he couldn't help giving a thumbs-up. "Sure enough, bad weeds really do live forever."
The village chief paid Ding Shi no mind. He crouched down, lifted the blanket to look at Pan'er for a moment, and covered her again before saying, "Xiao Ding, Taoyuan Village is gone. Escort me to the station."
Quest: Escort the village chief to the bus waiting pavilion.
Does it never end?
Ding Shi said nothing. Supporting the village chief, he steered clear of the puddles on the road. With a cane in one hand and an automatic umbrella in the other, the village chief walked with him in silence. They arrived smoothly at the bus waiting pavilion. The time was 7:23 AM.
Stepping inside the bus waiting pavilion, the two looked back. Not a living soul was in sight throughout the entire village; the only things moving were the zombies taking plodding steps through the paddy fields.
Ding Shi asked, "Village Chief, where do you plan on going?"
The village chief replied, "Sancai City."
Ding Shi asked curiously, "Sancai City?" Sancai City, Sixiang City? Could there also be Wuxing, Liuhe, and Qixing?
The village chief answered, "To seek refuge with my daughter."
The village chief wore a desolate expression. As if matching his mood, rain began to fall from the sky—neither heavy nor light.
Ding Shi glanced uneasily at the sky, then checked the time. This really isn't going to drag on forever, is it? If I miss the eight o'clock minibus, where am I supposed to go? Or will I be forcibly executed?
Meanwhile, countless Taoyuan Village instances were also drawing to a close. Unlike Ding Shi's Taoyuan Village, the others were pictures of harmony.
Countless Haitangs lifted their heads, gazing affectionately at their bridegroom players: "Can you stay? For me?"
Countless children crowded around the volunteers: "Teacher, can you stay?"
Countless Cuihuas clung to their grandson players, weeping like rain on pear blossoms: "Don't go."
Countless maidens held the hands of night patrol players: "Even if you decide to leave, I'll never forget you. You're my hero."
Countless assistant players kicked their old village chiefs flying: "You're the one who caused all the damn trouble!"
Chapter 34