[Hint: The General was born under a cursed fate—scratch that, The General had a blessed fate.]
[Instance loading…]
[A total of thirteen players have entered the game!]
This time, the dizziness upon entering the game had almost completely disappeared. Fu Changxun steadied himself and looked up.
He found himself standing in the middle of a street—one filled with an unmistakably ancient marketplace atmosphere.
“Candied hawthorns—sugar figurines—”
“Honored guest, are you stopping for a meal or staying the night?”
“Selling jewelry here! Our hairpins are shipped straight from the seaside…”
Fu Changxun stood there for a moment, then abruptly came back to his senses. After lowering his head and carefully inspecting the wide-sleeved robe he was wearing, he finally relaxed and began looking around for his teammates.
Just in time, Dong Zi had already spotted him and was pushing through the crowd toward him.
In a scene like this, it was hard not to feel disoriented. Fu Changxun hurriedly shook his head, chasing away the sense of unreality.
Clearly, none of the equipment they’d prepared had been brought in.
Dong Zi walked up to him, and a pitch-black cat head peeked out from his sleeve.
The black cat complained indignantly, “Meow meow, meow meow meow.”
Damn it—he hadn’t even brought it along. If it weren’t for this annoying human carrying it, it wouldn’t have made it in at all.
Fu Changxun hurriedly picked it up. “Sorry, I completely forgot to bring you.”
The black cat was easy to placate. Soon it was once again content, curling into a little ball. Dong Zi, meanwhile, grabbed it and shoved it back into his sleeve. “I haven’t found Xu-ge yet. Let’s keep looking around. Ah-Xun, take a look at this while you’re at it—what do you think it means?”
He took out the flyer. It had already transformed into a sheet of paper appropriate to the era.
Written on it were the words: A single glance, her heart stolen by a wandering rogue – yet none are more heartless than those born to the imperial throne.
Fu Changxun: “……”
What the hell is this? Weren’t they supposed to be finding the General’s blade? Why did it suddenly involve the martial world and the imperial court?
This hint was far too vague. The flyer was equally obscure, making it impossible to draw any concrete conclusions.
At that moment, Game Customer Service prompted:
[Would the player like to enable livestream mode?]
Fu Changxun thought of the rule requiring at least one livestream every thirty days. After telling Dong Zi, the two of them enabled livestreaming together.
[Livestream enabled~]
In that instant, it felt as if countless eyes had turned toward him.
Cold sweat broke out all over his body. His hair practically stood on end.
The gaze of higher-dimensional beings…
[Heeheehee, a little cutie has gone live!]
[Oh, it’s that low-dimensional creature I saw last time. He did really well in the newbie game.]
[I like his face… wow, this time it’s “ancient times”? These clothes suit him so well. He looks so refined and pretty—I like him even more!]
[The game devs did a good job. They really made him turn on the stream. Worth praising.]
[No, I still really want to turn him into a doll. He and his companions are all very nice!]
[…]
Even though he couldn’t see the bullet comments, the attention and malice had almost taken on a tangible form.
Fu Changxun immediately felt uncomfortable all over. His SAN value dropped straight from 100 to 96.
After enduring it for a moment, he gave up in frustration and said to Dong Zi, “By the way, have you seen the [Stealth Blocker] in the Game Shop? The one that hides our real faces even when we’re streaming.”
Dong Zi nodded. “I saw it. It costs 10 Points and can be used for three games.”
Fu Changxun said decisively, “I don’t care. I’m buying it.”
Other people bought that item to avoid being recognized by human viewers. He was buying it to guard against higher-dimensional beings—their gaze was simply too terrifying.
Dong Zi didn’t stop him. In fact, he fully supported the decision. He didn’t want those so-called higher-dimensional beings seeing Fu Changxun’s face either.
So, he casually bought the same item.
Once activated, it concealed both their real faces from the livestream viewers.
For a brief moment, the bullet comments paused—then a wave of enraged “higher-dimensional beings” flooded the screen.
[Why are you covering your faces!]
[What’s the point of streaming then? Just shut it off!]
[Who developed this damn item? Reveal their name, I’m going to settle the score with them!]
But no matter how much impotent rage they vented, the game could no longer exploit loopholes.
A game that lacks fairness can’t restrain its players—and if that’s the case, it can’t expect humans to obediently play along anymore.
Fu Changxun activated the blocker. He felt nothing unusual, and Dong Zi didn’t show any visible changes either. But the malicious gazes probing at them had clearly diminished.
It worked.
He let out a silent sigh of relief and headed off with Dong Zi to search for Xu Zhengyi.
It was unclear whether the game had truly transported them across time or simply created a miniature scenario, but everything around them felt startlingly real—like a historical reenactment come to life. If an archaeology fanatic entered this instance, they might never want to leave.
“Ah Xun, do you think if we buy something here, we can take it back to the real world?” Dong Zi looked around at the nearby shops, unable to resist asking.
Fu Changxun chuckled.
“What are you thinking? Do we have silver or any money from this place?”
“…You’ve got a point.”
Just earlier, both of them had checked their pockets. Not a single coin.
Suddenly, Fu Changxun’s smile froze.
“Wait—what are we supposed to do about food, water, and lodging for the next few days?!”
Even if time in the game flowed differently than in reality, physiological needs within the instance were entirely real.
The last instance had lasted less than two days. It was a beginner-friendly scenario, and even then, they’d come out feeling famished and exhausted.
This time, they had nine whole days. If they didn’t eat, drink, or sleep during that stretch, they’d be dead before the mission was even finished. So clearly, there had to be a way to get money.
The only possibility was…
He immediately pulled up the Game Shop again, and sure enough, found it under “Miscellaneous”.
[Instance Currency: Redeemable with points. Exchange rate is 1:10. 1 point = 10 coins.]
What the hell? This is straight-up robbery.
He only had 40 points left—that translated to 400 coins, which was less than half a tael of silver.
Fu Changxun couldn’t help mentally cursing the game out eight hundred times.
Dong Zi also saw the extortionate exchange rate and, after a moment of thought, said, “Maybe I should go get a temp job, earn a bit for lodging.”
Fu Changxun had been glancing upward, but at those words, he tugged Dong Zi’s sleeve and pointed to a hanging sign.
“Dong Zi, your ability is to move objects, right? So… could you flip dice?”
Dong Zi followed his finger and saw the bold characters: Golden Hook Gambling Hall.
“…………”
Is that really how his ability was meant to be used?
Just as Fu Changxun, practically rubbing his hands in anticipation, was about to step into the casino, someone called out to them.
Xu Zhengyi was walking toward them, dressed in rough linen. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was carrying a little girl in his arms.
He had adapted well to the “ancient setting,” knowing better than to shout modern phrases. Instead, he called out directly: “Fu-ge, Dong-ge! I finally found you!”
Dong Zi glanced at the unfamiliar girl he was holding and asked in confusion, “Where’d you pick her up?”
“This is my daughter.” The burly, strapping Xu Zhengyi was on the verge of tears as he lowered his voice and cursed bitterly, “This fucking game—why the hell did it drag Xiaoxiao in too? She’s only ten! How would she even know how to clear a game like this?!”
