Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 37

Chapter 37: The Blind Widower in the Infinite Game (4)

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At the center of the town stood a massive banyan tree, lush and full, with nearly five hundred years of history. It was one of the most important landmarks on Thousand Smoke Island.

 

As the tree grew, its stone enclosure had to be rebuilt—once dismantled and reconstructed. But now, cracks had formed in the cement edges again, and lines of ants marched across them.

 

Walking downhill toward the banyan tree, the wind picked up. The radio had said it would be a cloudy day. Shui Que could feel the moisture hanging in the air.

 

He hadn’t brought an umbrella, so it was hard to tell when it might start raining.

 

Shui Que had left Coalball at home. Before figuring out this game world, he couldn’t know whether he’d be facing people or ghosts. Coalball was protective of him but didn’t understand danger. Shui Que didn’t want any unexpected injuries to happen.

 

As he got closer, besides the shadow of the banyan tree itself, Shui Que began to see other figures under it.

 

Several people.

 

Normally, players in a game instance would appear at the same spawn point. But sometimes, a player would be given an identity closely tied to an NPC—like how Shui Que’s current identity was deeply connected to local resident Yuan Zhou. That’s why he had spawned directly in the Yuan household.

 

If players wanted to solve the mystery together, the ones who spawned together would need to find and ally with the scattered ones like Shui Que.

 

Shui Que had assumed that, given his reputation and with Xie Qian not around, no one would want to team up with him voluntarily.

 

Besides, the original plot never explained how the players in [Thousand Smoke] got together in the first place. When the story began, they were already united.

 

He tapped his blind cane and walked over. The people waiting under the tree straightened up, and someone called out to him:

“Hey! We were just talking about you. And here you are!”

 

A cheerful voice.

 

The first one to speak was a chubby man. He kept talking: “I just got to the island yesterday, and overheard some high schoolers who were heading to class talking about you. I asked them about it, got the address, and left a message there. Didn’t think it was really you.”

 

“Shui Que” was such an unusual name. Coming from those tall, strapping high school boys on the island, full of hormones, it was definitely being discussed as a juicy topic. Yet he hadn’t found it strange at all.

 

That voice sounded a bit familiar.

 

Shui Que asked tentatively, “…Li Jianshan?”

 

Li Jianshan scratched his head with a silly grin. “Didn’t expect you to still remember me—it was all the way back in that D-level [Asylum] instance.”

 

They had been in the same instance before. If Shui Que remembered correctly, Xie Qian had even stepped in to save him once. If this invitation to collaborate came because of Xie Qian’s connection, it would make sense.

 

Shui Que blinked slowly, curiously asking, “You said… you were just talking about me? What were you discussing?”

 

Li Jianshan: “Oh! Nothing much, I just said what a coincidence it was that I found out yesterday you were in this instance too!”

 

He wiped the sweat that had formed from the heat.

 

Just now, everyone had been bored waiting under the tree in silence. Since Shui Que hadn’t arrived yet, Li Jianshan casually mentioned the identity he’d gathered about Shui Que.

 

A student who had taken a leave of absence from the National Maritime University. He’d eloped with his fiancé Yuan Zhou to his hometown, but the fiancé had gone out to sea and hadn’t been heard from since—his fate uncertain, likely dead. What made this notable was that Yuan Zhou had been the island’s most promising young sailor, possibly a key figure in this scenario.

 

Li Jianshan had just speculated offhandedly.

 

At that moment, a black-haired, black-eyed man crossed his arms and wore a stony expression. The chill radiating from him was biting—his mocking sneer was so cold it was as if frost clung to every word from his lips.

 

Li Jianshan was mortified.

 

He hadn’t met Chu Jingting before, but he had seen plenty of discussions about the drama between Shui Que and Chu Jingting on the players’ forum.

 

The way people described it with vivid details had shocked him. He’d always had a rather good impression of Shui Que—maybe a little temperamental, but overall a kind and sweet boy. In fact, Xie Qian had saved him back then only because Shui Que had asked him to.

 

Besides, Shui Que’s temper had mostly been directed at Xie Qian anyway. Li Jianshan had the impression that Xie Qian had almost enjoyed it.

 

One was willing to provoke, the other to endure—it wasn’t anyone else’s place to comment.

 

This was the first time he realized Shui Que had supposedly bullied other teammates. And the victim, Chu Jingting, had ended up in the same instance as them this time—what luck.

 

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s do introductions,” Li Jianshan quickly changed the subject. “Shui Que, you don’t need to. Since you weren’t here earlier, I already explained your identity to everyone.”

 

“I’m Li Jianshan—‘jian’ as in ‘seeing a mountain.’ This time, I’ve drawn the identity of a sociology professor at the National Maritime University. I’m leading a half-month field study on Thousand Smoke Island as part of a public folklore course for the new semester.”

 

Another guy, who looked like a slimmer version of Li Jianshan, stammered awkwardly, “I’m Li Jianhe. My identity is a third-year folklore student at the National Maritime University.”

 

Li Jianshan slung an arm around his shoulder and gave it a pat. “This is my younger brother—eight years younger than me. He joined the infinite game a little later.”

 

“Atticus,” a curly-haired boy with blond hair and blue eyes introduced himself. He ruffled his hair, sounding impatient. “I’m a sophomore anthropology student at the National Maritime University. This is my second A-level instance. Once I clear it, I’ll probably be in the top five hundred. Just putting it out there—I don’t want anyone dragging the team down.”

 

His facial features were sharply defined, and his prominent brow bone and intense frown gave off a youthful aggression.

 

“I don’t like relying on others…” Atticus deliberately glanced at Shui Que and concluded coldly, “Parasitic flower.”

 

It was just shy of directly calling him out. Shui Que had never been so subtly insulted before and didn’t quite know how to react. He ended up blinking awkwardly.

 

He got the feeling this Atticus guy was probably the only one reacting normally to someone with Shui Que’s terrible reputation—disdainful and keeping his distance.

 

Shui Que actually felt a bit relieved.

 

At least that meant the plot was still on track. If everyone had been as friendly and warm as Li Jianshan, he would’ve started worrying that he was failing to keep up his character.

 

The other boy, however, seemed to expect Shui Que to show some embarrassment or irritation. When Shui Que acted like he hadn’t even heard it, showing no reaction, Atticus looked frustrated—as if he’d punched a cotton wall.

 

【Uh… is this kid in elementary school or something? You’d better be doing this on purpose to get my baby’s attention, or I swear I’ll flame you to death.】


【Parasitic flower? Excuse me, charm and luck are also part of one’s strength! My wife doesn’t need to lift a finger—his ex-husband does all the hard work and earns all the points for him. To all you dogs out there: if you want a shot at my wife, start by living up to his ex-husband first!】


【It’s been I-don’t-even-know-how-many days since Crab Claw (Xie Qian) died. All I feel is longing. Now that the old one’s gone, we realize the new ones don’t compare—no one matches up to our Crab Claw.】


【On second thought… maybe it’s better that Crab Claw stays dead. Don’t come back to life or I won’t get to see my baby again.】


【Wait, isn’t that the same pervert from before who was caught spying on my baby?!】

 

The black-haired, black-eyed man pressed his lips together. His voice, like ice, sent chills in the summer heat. “Chu Jingting, third-year folklore.”

 

Everyone saw it. The beautiful boy leaning on a white cane gave the tiniest shudder when he heard that. His face went noticeably pale.

 

Shui Que’s heart fluttered nervously.

 

According to the storyline, Chu Jingting was supposed to be a lone-wolf player in this instance. He would explore and solve the puzzles solo while silently watching Shui Que drag the team down, eventually getting eaten by the boss.

 

He didn’t intervene—not because he couldn’t, but because he believed Shui Que wasn’t worth the effort. He certainly wasn’t supposed to show up as part of their team.

 

Swallowing hard, Shui Que’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

 

He was doomed. How was he supposed to handle this…

 

He completely…

 

His mind flashed back to their first instance, when the plot had called for him to threaten Chu Jingting and force him to go down into a cave first as a human cushion.

 

The cave hadn’t even been deep—just two or three meters—but the muddy floor made it tricky.

 

When Shui Que jumped down, he’d landed right on top of Chu Jingting. He heard the sharp inhale as the other’s chest tightened in response.

 

It had been just a mission…

 

But Shui Que had genuinely worried about hurting the male lead.

 

He’d tried to push himself up in a hurry, only to twist his wrist, and halfway up, he dropped right back down—

 

Accidentally sitting on the male lead’s face.

 

He really hadn’t meant to…

 

It had been a complete accident.

 

Highly insulting. Severely traumatizing.

 

And right then, System 77 had told him the plot progress had jumped significantly.

 

Shui Que’s face had turned bright red and flushed all the way to his neck. Xie Qian had yanked him up like a chick by the collar.

 

Even though Chu Jingting had clearly been the victim, it was Xie Qian who’d gone berserk—forcing the injured Chu Jingting to stay behind and cover the retreat, almost getting killed by the boss.

 

He hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.

 

The more Shui Que tried not to think about it, the more vivid the memory of his social death became.

 

He awkwardly fiddled with the head of his cane, almost peeling the paint off it.

 

Chu Jingting took in every detail of his posture and expression and interpreted it as sheer terror and guilt. A sneer forced its way out of his throat.

 

A gentle voice broke the silence.

 

A man in a brown shirt vest, glasses perched on his tall nose, completely at odds with the humble, rugged vibe of the island, stepped forward.

 

He looked like an academic scholar from the ’80s or ’90s. “Nice to meet you all—I’ve heard of everyone here. I’m Xie Huahuang. That’s ‘hua’ as in ‘splendid,’ and ‘huang’ like the sun. This is my first time participating in an A-level instance. My identity is that of a graduate teaching assistant for the folklore course at the National Maritime University.”

 

“Now that we’re all acquainted, it’s getting late. Judging by the sky, it might rain this evening. Let’s begin looking for clues in the instance.” He tactfully avoided getting involved in the tension between Shui Que and the others.

 

Li Jianshan couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore—two grown men ganging up on one younger boy. He quickly followed Xie Huahuang’s lead and said, “Right! Once it starts raining, it’ll be hard to investigate outdoors. Let’s move quickly and get started now!”

 

The blond, blue-eyed youth—clearly of foreign descent—snorted and replied in fluent Mandarin, “Fine, makes sense. So where do we start?”

 

From the introductions, only Shui Que had drawn a unique role—he was the only one from the university who also had a special tie to Thousand Smoke Island.

 

However, they weren’t planning to investigate Yuan Zhou—the person tied to Shui Que’s backstory—just yet. After all, they had only just arrived. With no legitimate reason, digging into someone who had gone missing at sea and was presumed dead could easily arouse local suspicion or offense.

 

As the six of them hesitated as everyone except Shui Que received the main quest.

 

[Main Quest: National Maritime University, Folklore Public Course – “Inheritance and Development of Island Folk Culture: A Case Study of Thousand Smoke Island,” Lesson 1 begins: Visit the iconic buildings of Thousand Smoke Island (0/)]

 

They compared and confirmed the quest details with each other and verified that the content was identical.

 

Shui Que received the main quest a little later, with a slight variation.

 

[Main Quest: As a temporarily suspended student of National Maritime University, you’re delighted to meet fellow students on Thousand Smoke Island. Please assist your classmates and teacher in completing Lesson 1 of the public course: Visit the iconic buildings of Thousand Smoke Island (0/)]

 

The main quest was key to clearing the game, but it generally didn’t award any points. Only upon full completion would players receive a one-time bonus based on their contribution score.


The infinite game was notoriously stingy—only some random, trivial side quests would drop a few points for the players.

 

“What does that question mark mean?” Atticus frowned, confused.

 

Xie Huahuang adjusted his glasses. The sunlight reflected off the lenses for a moment, dazzlingly bright. “It’s probably a hint that there’s more than one iconic building. We have to figure it out ourselves and visit them all.”

 

Li Jianshan rested his chin on his hand, pondering. “Iconic buildings… It’s a small island, right? The people are all fishermen, living off the sea. Fishing is dangerous work—most of them probably pray to gods or spirits for safety at sea and bountiful catches.”

 

“Is there a temple or a shrine nearby where they hold ceremonies or offer prayers?”

 

Shui Que, who had been mostly silent, suddenly spoke without warning, his gaze drifting somewhere into the void. “A shrine… Before going out to sea this morning, Yuan Yu carried a basket of vegetables and a sea duck. He said he was going to worship at the Wubao Shrine before setting sail.”

 

Yuan Yu had woken him around two or three in the morning. When Shui Que opened his eyes, he smelled the aroma of cooked meat in the air. He had even muttered that he didn’t like plain boiled sea duck—it was too bland.

 

Before he could finish his complaint, Yuan Yu covered his mouth with a hand. “Shh. It’s not for you. Don’t let Wubao Gong hear you.”

 

Maybe it was because Shui Que looked a bit wronged when his mouth was covered, but Yuan Yu softened and added in a low voice:

 

“If you want some, I’ll make you dry-fried sea duck when I get back tonight.”

 

Then he took Shui Que to the doorway and had him bow three times to the fruits, vegetables, and sea duck placed on the tea table in the yard.

 

Shui Que had asked if Wubao Gong would bless someone who wasn’t a local.

 

Yuan Yu nodded. Yes, he would.

 

“Yuan Yu said Wubao Shrine is halfway up the western mountain.” Shui Que tried hard to recall. It was hard—after all, it was the middle of the night and he was still very sleepy. He’d barely understood what Yuan Yu was saying at the time and ended up just nodding blindly with his eyes half-shut.

 

Atticus deliberately picked on him, raising a fuss without using his brain. “You keep saying Yuan Yu, Yuan Yu—who is he? Can you trust him that easily?”

 

Shui Que found the questioning annoying. He hadn’t even had time to drag the team down yet, and already this guy was coming after him. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to prepare properly.

 

He furrowed his delicate brows, pursed his lips in displeasure, but still answered, “Yuan Yu is Yuan Zhou’s younger brother.”

 

Li Jianshan laughed heartily. “Ohhh! The little brother-in-law. Don’t worry—if the little brother-in-law said it, it’s definitely trustworthy. He wouldn’t harm Shui Que.”

 

No one else responded.

 

The others were quietly staring at the widow who, after Yuan Zhou’s death, was being taken care of by the younger brother-in-law.

 

“…”

 

Shui Que didn’t understand why the atmosphere had suddenly become so strange.

 

Li Jianshan glanced around, still wanting to crack a joke to ease the mood, but Li Jianhe nudged him with an elbow, and he fell silent.

 

It was easy to orient oneself on the island. They left the big banyan tree and headed downhill toward the western mountain in silence.

 

Shui Que couldn’t see and couldn’t walk as fast as the others, so he gradually fell behind at the rear of the group.

 

They passed the local middle school, where the sound of reciting students filled the air, and followed the river with a waterwheel upstream. Peach blossoms from upstream floated on the water.

 

The mountain path became increasingly rugged and uneven, as if it had formed after the river had changed course. River pebbles lay in the center of the path, and protruding tree roots appeared now and then.

 

A tree root blocked his step, and Shui Que stumbled forward.

 

A warm, steady hand caught him, accompanied by a calm voice: “You can’t see the road. If you don’t mind, let me guide you.”

 

As if afraid Shui Que might feel uncomfortable, Xie Huahuang added considerately, “That way, you can keep pace with the group.”

 

—From the team’s perspective.

 

Shui Que, completely at ease, grasped the man’s arm.

 

[LOL everyone, did I just see No.2 move so fast he left afterimages?!]


[Well, of course. He’s leading in silence, but no one can beat our Brother Sunshine—always close by, always fast to act.]

 

The black-haired, black-eyed man gave a cold glance, retracted his steps, and casually turned back to walk on ahead.

 

But his livestream chat was still going wild.

 

[Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!]


[Yooooooo~]


[My eyes don’t lie—there’s nothing innocent about the way he looked at him!]

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Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

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