Chapter 72 | Screenwriter of a Reviving World

“Sitting here waiting for death isn't the way to go.”

Lin Hao spoke first, his voice kept very low.

He reached up to touch the scarf around his neck. His fingertips brushed against the soft, greasy, slightly squirming thing beneath it, causing him to furrow his brow deeply.

“These are the only clues we have right now.”

Ouyang Qiu rubbed her freezing cold hands. At the thought of the players who had been stuffed into the coffin and carried away, her voice couldn't help but tremble:

“If we don't find a way to advance the quest progress, we'll turn into those human-headed rats sooner or later.”

“Old Lady Huang's wish is quite obvious; it's probably related to revenge.”

Zhou Hui sighed. “Her four sons aren't even as filial as a cat. The problem now is that if we do the quests, we'll turn into rats, but if we don't, we can't leave. It's a dead end.”

“Even a dead end must be broken.”

Lin Hao's eyes grew dark and sinister:

“Tonight after midnight is the old lady's Seventh-Day Return. We can't rely on these villagers anymore—”

Before he could finish, a sudden knocking sound came from outside the door: “Knock, knock, knock, knock.”

Four knocks, slow and steady.

The sound was exceptionally clear in the dead silence of the ancestral hall's courtyard.

The three of them instantly fell silent. They stared at the door in unison, their muscles tensing up.

A human-headed rat?

Or Old Lady Huang's ghost?

Ouyang Qiu made a silencing gesture and pressed her face against the crack of the door to look outside.

Under the dim yellow light of the white lanterns, a plump shadow was cast. It had a hunched back and a pointed head, looking like a standing rat at first glance.

It was Huang Facai, who had returned.

He stood at the courtyard gate with his hands behind his back, facing the direction of the door's crack, as if he had long known the three of them were watching from inside.

“You three guests inside, stop hiding.”

Huang Facai's voice drifted in, high-pitched and thin, carrying a hint of a sinister smile.

“I know you're in there. Today is my mother's Seventh-Day Return. According to the village rules, the coffin must stay at the mourning canopy on the threshing ground for the night. We need people to keep vigil and add oil. We can't be careless for even a moment.”

“The strong men in the village have all gone to catch cats, so we're short-handed. You three guests look strong and healthy, so please do me a favor and keep vigil at the mourning canopy tonight.”

“Don't worry, you won't work for nothing. There will be a reward afterward.”

He spoke politely, but there was not a hint of negotiation in his tone.

It was as if he was certain they would not—and dared not—refuse.

The three inside exchanged glances, seeing gravity in each other's eyes.

Refuse? How could they refuse?

The outside was full of villagers who had turned into human-headed rats. If they truly angered Huang Facai, stuffing them into the coffin to be buried alive with the dead would be as easy as lifting a finger.

Accept?

Keeping vigil on the Seventh-Day Return, and for the wrongfully killed Old Lady Huang at that, with a massive black cat watching greedily from the shadows.

This wasn't keeping vigil; this was walking to their deaths.

Just then, wispy black characters floated up:

【Triggered Side Quest: Seventh-Day Return Vigil】

【Quest Description: Tonight is the night of Old Lady Huang's Seventh-Day Return. Players must keep vigil at the threshing ground's mourning canopy until the rooster crows, adding lamp oil to the ever-burning candle in front of the coffin every half-hour to ensure the flame does not go out.】

【Quest Tips:

1. Quicklime is provided in front of the coffin and can be sprinkled around it. Invisible footprints will appear on the lime. Do not panic upon seeing them; simply use a mourning staff to drive them away.

2. During the vigil, cats and rats are strictly forbidden from touching the coffin, otherwise it will trigger a corpse awakening.

3. The ever-burning candle must not go out.】

【Quest Rewards: Plot Progress +15%, Rat Transformation Progress suspended for 12 hours】

【Failure Penalty: All players will be deemed to have failed the vigil and will be hunted down by the Cat-Faced Old Lady.】

...

The Cat-Faced Old Lady?

Wasn't that just a horror story invented by adults to scare children?

So Old Lady Huang had turned into the Cat-Faced Old Lady?!

All three of them shuddered.

But they didn't even have the option to refuse.

At this point, there was no other choice but to brace themselves and face it.

...

The sky was completely dark, and white lanterns hung at the entrance of every household in the village.

The lanterns swayed back and forth in the wind, their dim yellow light stretching shadows that looked like rats.

On the walls, in the tree branches, and even on the roof of the ancestral hall, glowing green cat eyes appeared one after another, like countless floating ghost fires.

Cat cries rose and fell, shrill and far more ferocious than the previous night.

Pairs of eyes stared intently at them, low hisses escaping their throats, as if they would pounce at any second.

They arrived at the threshing ground.

A simple mourning canopy was set up in the middle of the ground, surrounded by white cloth that rustled loudly in the wind, sounding like countless hands clapping.

Inside the canopy hung white banners and paper wreaths.

On both sides stood four or five half-man-tall paper dolls, both male and female.

The paper dolls had red cheeks and black eyebrows painted on their faces, their smiles stiff and eerie, their eyes staring straight at the entrance of the canopy as if welcoming guests.

Right in the center, a somewhat familiar black coffin lay quietly on the coffin stand.

The coffin was freshly painted in black lacquer, shiny enough to reflect shadows, and a large character for “Happiness” was written on the head of the coffin.

As if the ink had not yet fully dried, the character glowed with a dull red light.

...

“Creak... creak...”

“Screeech—screeech!”

The sound of fingernails scratching against wood drifted out from the coffin. As if hearing the footsteps outside, the scratching grew increasingly urgent.

It was the players from earlier!

Ouyang Qiu gasped sharply, instinctively grabbing Zhou Hui's arm.

Zhou Hui was not doing any better, her entire body tense, looking on the verge of tears.

“Village Chief Huang... inside this coffin...” Zhou Hui's voice trembled. Just as she was about to ask, she was stopped by Ouyang Qiu's warning glance.

What would asking do?

If they exposed it, it might provoke Huang Facai into attacking them.

“My mother liked cats when she was alive, so we caught a few kittens to be buried with her.”

Huang Facai acted as if he didn't see their expressions, simply pointing with a chuckle to a corner of the mourning canopy:

“The lamp oil, lime, and mourning staffs are all over there. I won't repeat the rules. You three are smart people. Follow the rules, and I guarantee you'll be fine.”

“Oh, by the way—”

He turned to leave, but stopped, looked back, and said sinisterly:

“Don't slack off. My mother has a bad temper, and she's especially irritable on the day of her Seventh-Day Return.”

With that, he turned and walked away with his hands behind his back, quickly vanishing into the darkness.

In the mourning canopy, only the three of them remained, along with a black coffin containing both players and a corpse.

The wind rustled the white cloth, and the paper dolls stood in the shadows, looking as if they might move at any moment.

The ever-burning candle was placed at the head of the coffin, its bean-sized flame flickering.

...

“Are we really going to keep vigil here all night?”

Zhou Hui's voice drifted, her gaze locked onto the black coffin.

The sound of fingernails scratching, stroke by stroke, was almost unbearable for her.

Humans are very strange creatures. Even though those people had kicked them out of the western side room, to a normal person who grew up in a civilized and moral environment—it was impossible to completely ignore, let alone watch, members of their own kind die right before their eyes.

“Otherwise? You want to save them?”

Lin Hao sneered. “You want to go inside and keep them company? Right, you have plenty of points, but we don't dare. How about this, Sister Zhou? Why don't you buy some more quest items and see if you can rescue them?”

Zhou Hui shuddered and remained silent.

Ouyang Qiu, walking at the rear, glanced at Lin Hao upon hearing this.

Since moments ago, his words to Zhou Hui had been laced with sarcasm.

In the darkness, countless glowing green spots of light swayed in the distance—the pack of cats.

They surrounded the threshing ground, neither approaching nor leaving, just staring from afar as if waiting for something.

...

“Sister Zhou, you sprinkle the lime.”

Lin Hao walked to the corner and picked up the bag of quicklime, proactively grabbing the mourning staff, which seemed to offer the greatest sense of security among the quest items:

“Ouyang Qiu will be responsible for adding lamp oil, and I'll handle driving away the rats and cats.”

Ouyang Qiu picked up the oil can containing half a pot of lamp oil, hesitating for a moment.

“Then let's do as the quest says and sprinkle the lime first.”

Zhou Hui obediently lifted the lime bag, untied the knot, and began sprinkling it bit by bit around the coffin:

“I'll sprinkle some evil-expelling lime powder on the outermost edge, so those cats outside won't dare to come in.”

Ouyang Qiu nodded and picked up another bag. “I'll help you.”

The two of them circled the coffin, slowly sprinkling the lime.

The white powder fell with a soft rustling sound, laying down a thin ring around the black coffin.

To the side, Lin Hao suddenly let out a muffled groan, covering his neck with his hand.

“Xiao Lin? What's wrong?” Zhou Hui quickly asked.

Lin Hao furrowed his brow, his face turning a bit pale.

The umbilical cord around his neck had started to act up again.

Before, it had only squirmed slightly, occasionally driving him crazy and keeping him from sleeping.

But now, it was squirming frantically beneath his scarf, as if stimulated by something.

It contracted one moment and stretched the next, chafing the skin of his neck with a burning pain. There was even a strange pulling force dragging him forward.