Qi Yang and Kang Lian had waited for more than half an hour. As Qi Yang was pondering whether to leave for the next checkpoint, a figure appeared in the distance of the bamboo grove. Kang Lian was the first to stand up and sprint toward the silhouette. After running some distance, she recognized a familiar face in the crowd — it was none other than Yi Xinming. Kang Lian’s expression was about to brighten; seeing Yi Xinming alive relieved the worry that he and the other players might have met with misfortune. Her tightly wound nerves finally began to ease, only for them to snap taut again the next moment. As Yi Xinming came closer, Kang Lian could see clearly that the left side of his face was a bloody mess, as if half of it had been destroyed.

Kang Lian hurriedly ran up. After the previous game and the last day or two of interaction, she had come to regard Yi Xinming as a friend she could trust. Suddenly seeing half his face drenched in blood made her heart jolt.

She dashed into the grove and rushed up to Yi Xinming.

“Are you hurt?” Kang Lian’s face was full of worry, her expression very tense. She reached out as if to touch Yi Xinming’s body, afraid there might be other unseen wounds on him. Her hand rose, then hovered uncertainly.

Half of Yi Xinming’s face was nearly numb with pain; his whole head was affected. If someone hadn’t been supporting him, he would have collapsed already. Holding his breath, he had rushed over to make sure Qi Yang and Kang Lian were okay. Although his vision was blurred by blood, with Kang Lian’s face and voice so close he could still make them out.

“Just a small wound, it’s fine.” Yi Xinming opened his mouth; his throat filled with the metallic, sweet smell of blood. Extremely weak, he managed to say a few words.

Kang Lian saw that Yi Xinming’s once-handsome face was smeared with blood. Her heart ached and worry gnawed at her.

“Don’t speak, don’t say anything.” Kang Lian’s voice instantly took on a sobbing tone. She went to lift Yi Xinming’s other arm and, together with the person on the right, helped support him.

“Qi Yang—” Yi Xinming’s vision was restricted; he couldn’t see Qi Yang in the distance. Knowing Kang Lian was all right, Qi Yang must be fine too, yet he still wanted to ask.

Kang Lian saw that Yi Xinming himself had suffered such serious injuries and was still worrying about Qi Yang; her eyes quickly grew red, and after a blink a tear rolled down.

“Qi Yang’s fine, we’re all fine, not a scratch on us.”

Kang Lian forced a smile, telling Yi Xinming not to worry.

“That’s good, that’s good

…” Yi Xinming’s voice trailed off lower and lower, then suddenly went completely silent. Kang Lian panicked for a moment, turned and saw Yi Xinming’s head drooping. She hurriedly reached toward his nose, felt the faint breath, and laughed through her tears.

Also, Yixin Ming was fine—still alive.

“It’s all my fault. Brother Yi got hurt protecting me—I’m sorry, it’s my fault.” Helping Yixin Ming on the right, Yang Jiang apologized to Kang Lian with sincere remorse. Recalling the scene not long ago made him shiver; it was all because he hadn’t listened to Yixin Ming and insisted on running toward the back. A sharp bamboo pole fell from the sky—he dodged it, but as Yixin Ming walked past, two more bamboo poles shot down from above. Yang Jiang froze in fright; Yixin Ming suddenly shoved him away, causing Yixin Ming not to notice the danger at his side, and a bamboo pole skimmed Yixin Ming’s cheek and stuck into the ground.

Yang Jiang was filled with guilt, feeling he had wronged Yi Xinming. When Kang Lian heard Yang Jiang say that Yi Xinming had been injured protecting him, she turned to stare at Yang Jiang. Her gaze was usually gentle, but that day it was unusually cold. Being fixed with her chill look made Yang Jiang’s heart tremble, and he apologized to Kang Lian once more.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I won’t run off again.” Yang Jiang kept apologizing.

“There’s no ‘again’.” Kang Lian said coldly. She began to regret the troublesome things she’d done before. Luckily no one had been hurt back then; if someone had been injured because of her—especially Qi Yang or Yi Xinming—she would never forgive herself.

It was around this moment that Kang Lian seemed to finally realize what kind of place this space was. Maybe she had really been overprotected before, instinctively believing Qi Yang and the others could handle everything. But the truth was they couldn’t; danger could arrive unexpectedly. They had to be extremely careful and, above all, not put themselves at risk because of someone else.

Kang Lian supported Yi Xinming as they walked toward Qi Yang. She glanced at the other surviving players; combined they were still less important to her than Qi Yang and Yi Xinming. When she saw the group of six, she hesitated for a moment—weren’t they supposed to have left together? How were they with Yi Xinming now?

Even with that question in her mind, Kang Lian couldn’t dwell on it. She had to get Yi Xinming to the rock garden first and use the card.

When Kang Lian returned, Qi Yang also stood up and saw Yi Xinming’s face covered in blood. He hurried over.

“What happened to him?” Yi Xinming’s head hung low, his whole body as if without breath.

“He fainted, his face was scratched by a bamboo pole,” Kang Lian said.

Qi Yang leaned over, took Yi Xinming’s hand and checked his pulse—there was still a faint beat.

“First, punch the card.” Qi Yang hadn’t forgotten this; on the contrary, it was very important.

Kang Lian and Yang Jiang helped Yi Xinming sit on the stone platform outside the rockery. Yang Jiang took two slips from the glass jar—his and Yi Xinming’s.

Nan Sheng was standing behind Qi Yang at the time. Seeing Yi Xinming covered in blood, as the game’s boss he felt no stir, but when he saw Qi Yang’s worried look for Yi Xinming, Nan Sheng began to think it might be a bit more serious.

Less than a minute after Yi Xinming sat on the stone platform, more people emerged from the bamboo grove—six in total.

Qiao Ran’s phoenix eyes filled with smiles as he asked Qi Yang, “Did you get the cards?”

Qi Yang turned to look at Qiao Ran. The face seemed more and more familiar the longer he looked, as if he’d seen it somewhere before. With Qiao Ran’s striking looks, he would probably find it easy to become famous in show business.

“Yes, we did.” Qi Yang nodded.

“Where?” Unlike his earlier attitude, Qiao Ran here seemed like a different person — warm smile, amiable, looking easy to get along with. But Qi Yang wasn’t going to be fooled by that surface charm.

“Inside.” Qi Yang motioned back with his hand.

“That simple?” Qiao Ran laughed, seeming a bit incredulous.

“You can also make it complicated.” Qi Yang’s smile was not sincere.

Zhong Chong, standing to Qiao Ran’s right rear, stepped forward. He peered into the rockery and couldn’t see the card at all, only feeling Qi Yang was lying to them again. Zhong Chong was about the same height as Qi Yang, with a more muscular build, so when he stood in front of Qi Yang he looked quite imposing. The man didn’t restrain his presence, and his gaze pressed harder against Qi Yang.

“Last time in the village you tricked us, saying we could just take any item and it would count as completing the hidden task, and it turned out we had to buy it. Are you planning to fool us again this time? You’re getting arrogant!” Zhong Chong crowed. He grabbed Qi Yang by the shoulder; the muscles on his bare arm bulged, his anger seemed off the charts, ready to beat Qi Yang at any moment.

Nan Sheng’s eyes suddenly darkened as he stared at the hand with which Zhong Chong was gripping Qi Yang’s shoulder; cruelly, he thought that this man’s right hand was no longer needed.

Nan Sheng was about to step forward to put this idea into action, but before he could move, Qiao Ran had already pressed down his companion Zhong Chong’s hand.

“I believe Qi Yang didn’t do it on purpose; it was our misunderstanding. This time Qi Yang won’t lie to us, isn’t that right?” Qiao Ran hadn’t intended to change his attitude and befriend Qi Yang and the others, but upon just seeing Kang Lian completely unharmed, Qiao Ran knew these few people were incredibly lucky—so lucky it seemed the game rules didn’t apply to them.

At the blood pool Qiao Ran had some doubts. After all, he’d cleared it more than ten times; this was his twelfth run. He was sure he hadn’t misread it: those skulls, though eyeless, hardly used any force with the claws that snatched at the floatation ring, unlike when they grabbed at people, when their sharp hands seemed to pierce into bodies.

And here, with bamboo arrows raining down, Qiao Ran himself had even been slightly injured, yet Qi Yang and the others didn’t seem to have their hair disturbed at all. That had to arouse suspicion.

On acting, Qiao Ran considered himself second to none. He always liked to wear a variety of masks. Qi Yang’s expression seemed not too complicated; his emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—were all shown on his face, making him very easy to control.

Qiao Ran smiled gently, his phoenix-like eyes full of warmth. His face was extremely deceptive.

Qi Yang looked at Qiao Ran’s smiling face. This person had suddenly become very friendly, but whatever motives he might harbor, none of them would work on Qi Yang.

Qi Yang smiled in return, which counted as answering Qiao Ran’s question.

Qiao Ran walked toward the rockery; as he approached he saw a glass bottle set into a hollow in the middle of it. After taking six cards he turned and left.

Once everyone had taken their cards and finished their check-ins, a person emerged from a narrow path.

It was the supervisor who had been standing at the bamboo grove entrance. Seeing that everyone had completed their check-ins, he clapped his hands; the crisp sound drew everyone’s attention. The supervisor avoided making eye contact with Nan Sheng—though, in fact, they were the same person, he pretended not to know him at all.

“Congratulations to everyone for completing the bamboo-sea check-in. You’ve all worked hard. There are four hours until the next checkpoint. I see quite a few of you are injured, so you can rest for a while before continuing with the next task. Here’s some mineral water—help yourselves.” The supervisor gestured to a patch of ground beside him; a few seconds earlier there had been nothing there, and suddenly a crate of water had appeared.

“Hey, it’s just water?” Zhong Chong lifted his chin, his face all tough.

“Didn’t you see how many people are injured here? At least bring some hemostatic medicine—just bringing water, what does that mean? Or are you waiting for us all to bleed to death so your performance metrics look better?”

Zhong Chong was utterly unreserved; he showed no deference even to the Overseer. As things stood, the Overseer had only watched from the side the whole time and never intervened. Although the other party wasn’t a player but a ghost NPC in the game, judging by its appearance..

shape and physique, with hardly any muscle on his body. Ghosts and monsters—what’s so scary about them? Zhong Chong wasn’t afraid of the ghosts in this game at all. In the earlier rounds he had even killed some of them; seeing those man-eating ghosts turned to ashes by his hand was an exhilarating sight.

The Overseer is actually Nan Sheng, one soul in two bodies, so he fully knows what kind of peculiar tastes this man named Zhong Chong has, and it even seems he’s turned his attention to Qi Yang. This person would never let him walk out of the game alive.

Seeing as the other party was about to die anyway, the Overseer decided to indulge them for the time being.

“You want hemostatic medicine? How much do you need?”

“Give as much as there is.” Zhong Chong showed no courtesy to the Overseer, his arrogant posture as if he were the master of the game.

The fearless attitude of the ignorant made the Overseer smile slightly.

“Alright, then wait a moment.” The Overseer turned and walked away, his figure gradually disappearing from the players’ view.

About a minute had passed, maybe less, when the overseer reappeared, carrying a huge chest. Judging by its size, it could probably hold an adult.

The supervisor lifted the box and set it down in front of the players. Zhong Chong immediately stepped forward and flung the lid open; it was filled with various medicines.

“By the way, there’s something I should probably remind you of: this is the game, not your real world.” The supervisor stood up; as soon as he finished speaking he looked toward Qi Yang. In this game he wasn’t as forward about approaching Qi Yang as he had been in the previous one. In the earlier game he had even acted as if he were very interested in Qi Yang, but during the one or two days here the supervisor’s appearances were few and far between.

Qi Yang didn’t think too much about it; who could know what these inhuman ghosts and monsters were thinking—perhaps something more interesting had appeared and drawn their attention.

There was indeed something more interesting: the game boss had placed its soul into two bodies, using both to love Qi Yang.

Because it was his fault that Yi Xinming had been injured, Yang Jiang hurried over to find something to stop the bleeding, intending to apply it to the wound on Yi Xinming’s face. Just as he was about to put the medicine on Yi Xinming’s bloody, torn cheek, Qi Yang grabbed his hand before it could touch him.

Qi Yang read a certain message in the overseer’s suggestive eyes, which instantly made him think of the infirmary situation from the previous game: players who had gone to the clinic to have glass cuts treated ended up with their bodies gradually stiffening under the influence of those medicines, and even later..

He had no idea when he’d die in the dormitory.

The salve the Overseer had brought for free looked, to Qi Yang, like it would work about the same as the medical room’s. The ghosts here weren’t that kindhearted to tend to injured players, so Qi Yang was more inclined to believe there was something wrong with those medicines.

“Could it be these medicines…” Kang Lian also wanted to stop Yi Xinming’s bleeding, but when she saw Qi Yang restrain Yang Jiang, she watched Qi Yang’s expression instead, a vague worry rising in her chest.

“Don’t wipe it yet; we’ll find other medicine when we get back.” Qi Yang didn’t directly say why.

Because he didn’t say, some of the injured players assumed Qi Yang was overthinking it—what could be wrong with the medicine? It’s not like it’ll kill you; it’s not poison.

A few players grabbed it and smeared it on their bleeding wounds. Zhong Chong had a scraped shoulder; he wasn’t as cautious or death-averse as Qi Yang. He had cleared the game seven times, many times coming close to death but surviving each time, and this round was no different. Besides, their team also had someone like Qiao Ran, a skilled player who had cleared it more than ten times—one of him was worth ten, even a hundred, ordinary players.

Qiao Ran knew Zhong Chong was overly confident. Their team was actually temporary; Qiao Ran treated these teammates as tools. For now they were useful to him, so he gave occasional reminders. The day they were no longer useful, he’d discard them without hesitation.

“Just put on a bit.” Qiao Ran watched Zhong Chong apply several layers of the ointment and spoke up to remind him.

Qiao Ran only had a torn sleeve and some minor scratches, no bleeding, so he didn’t apply any medicine. At the same time, he began to suspect the Overseer’s words. Seeing Qi Yang stop players from giving his companion medicine, Qiao Ran guessed those medicines might have some other effects.

The supervisor stood quietly beside them, watching without saying a word.

“Let’s go.” Having rested enough, Qi Yang stood up and said. He only spoke to the few people beside him; as for Qiao Ran’s small team, Qi Yang didn’t want to take the initiative to get too close to them.

“Alright.” Kang Lian nodded seriously. She helped Yi Xinming up again; she couldn’t just leave him here—that would be tantamount to abandoning him to death. They were companions, and companions had to look after one another.

But Kang Lian was small of build, and Yi Xinming was, after all, an adult man, considerably taller than her. Carrying him was fine for short distances, but when the distance grew, Kang Lian’s strength couldn’t keep up; sweat beaded on her forehead and her breathing grew heavy.

Qi Yang watched as he told Kang Lian to stop: “I’ll support you, you rest a bit.”

I will.

Kang Lian’s strength had always been poor; she truly couldn’t hold him up any longer. She slipped Yi Xinming’s arm off her shoulders and, before handing him to Qi Yang, looked toward the tall man standing beside Qi Yang like a bodyguard.

“Could you please help hold his hand?” Kang Lian knew Nan Sheng liked Qi Yang—practically spent twenty-four hours a day by Qi Yang’s side. He cared a great deal about Qi Yang; if Qi Yang were the one to help support Yi Xinming, the man might instinctively take him into his arms. If that’s the case, she might as well have the man help directly.

How could Nan Sheng not understand Kang Lian’s meaning? This was shifting what was originally Qi Yang’s task onto him, and of course he was more than happy to oblige. Although Yi Xinming’s injury was something he had allowed, Qi Yang didn’t know about it.

Nan Sheng stepped forward and took Yi Xinming. With his assistance, Yang Jiang immediately felt much more at ease; in fact, most of Yi Xinming’s weight ended up on Nan Sheng. The weight of an adult human was no problem for him—he could even lift him with one hand.

The group proceeded toward the next checkpoint. Along the way Nan Sheng’s breathing was steady, not a hint of panting, as if he weren’t carrying anyone at all—or only holding a lightweight mannequin.

Qi Yang looked toward Nan Sheng, still thinking that if Nan Sheng grew tired, he would take over, but Nan Sheng strode briskly, supporting the person yet walking faster than most others.

The ten-minute walk had some players worried that the killer bamboo arrows from before might appear again; everyone was on edge, constantly scanning left and right and glancing up at the sky. Nothing happened until they reached the cluster of statues. The group stopped. In front of them was a square pit filled with many statues—animal statues of all kinds: those that fly in the sky, swim in the water, and crawl on the ground, every creature one might read about in books.

Qi Yang quickly swept his gaze over the statues and then pulled his sight back. He looked to both sides of the crowd and saw, on the right, the Overseer who had appeared there. The Overseer stared at the players as if quietly waiting for them to notice him.

Soon the players all noticed the Supervisor’s arrival. Zhong Chong took two steps forward, and his gaze fixed on the Supervisor showed not an ounce of goodwill.

“How do we punch in?”

“Among the statues in front of you there are 85 in total. Under three of them are the gates of life; the rest are gates of death. Step into a gate of life and you can take Card No.3, then return to the inn. If you accidentally step into a gate of death, your journey ends there.” The Supervisor regarded everyone, his tone casual.

“You mean we have to find three life gates out of 85 — isn’t that probability far too low?”

Zhong Chong narrowed his eyes, his expression very displeased.

“A probability greater than one percent is already considered high,” the supervisor said in a flat voice.

Zhong Chong snorted, casting a sharp sideways glance at the Overseer.

“Game time: thirty minutes. Players, please make the most of it.”

“Hey, that’s not right. Didn’t you say earlier there were four hours until the next check-in? How is it only half an hour now?” Qiao Ran, the tall, thin, malnourished-looking player, asked in surprise.

“It was four hours, but that was before you arrived. After arrival, the check-in time is recalculated. Timing has already begun. When this hourglass finishes, the game ends.” The Overseer lifted his hand and produced a small hourglass. He tossed it beneath the cluster of statues. The hourglass suddenly began to shrink, then landed on the central statue—a stone dragon—so vividly carved that even from a distance, with one standing upon it, the players could feel the dragon’s realism and awe.

“Don’t bring that here!” Yang Jiang, who was standing closer to Qi Yang, cried out in pain.

Kang Lian’s face had lost much of its color. She glanced at Yi Xinming sitting on the ground, his clothes soaked through with blood. She had to find a way out quickly, otherwise she was afraid Yi Xinming would really bleed to death.

“Let’s go, downstairs.” This time Kang Lian was unusually decisive, the first to move.

Qi Yang walked up to Yi Xinming and checked his condition. Although Yi Xinming’s wounds looked severe, they did not appear to be immediately life-threatening.

Qi Yang had Yang Jiang keep an eye on Yi Xinming up there while they went downstairs to look for the birthing room.

Yang Jiang actually wanted to go too. Thinking about how he had recently caused Yi Xinming to get hurt and knowing he himself wasn’t the sharpest, he saw Qi Yang’s confident demeanor and chose to stay, placing his trust in Qi Yang and the others.

Qi Yang went down among the stone statues and didn’t rush to look for a door. He had a feeling that no matter which door he searched, it would surely be a door of life; if that was the case, there was no need to hurry. The stone statues here were exquisitely carved—despite signs that suggested many years had passed, standing amid the piles of statues and looking at each one, even Qi Yang, who usually had no interest in stone sculpture, found himself instantly captivated.

“Like the statues here?” Nan Sheng followed on Qi Yang’s right side, looking every bit the part of a competent bodyguard. Of course, whether in the real world or in this game space, there was only one person across both worlds who could ever have him as a bodyguard—and that person was Qi Yang.

Qi Yang turned his head and looked at Nan Sheng with the same unreadable expression, smiling faintly: “What you mean by that—why does it sound to me like if I said I liked you, you’d give me a statue as a gift?”

Nan Sheng’s pupils were dark and deep; he actually nodded: “If you truly like it.” He wasn’t bragging—if Qi Yang wanted it, he could give him any of the statues.