Chapter 38: The Blind Widower in the Infinite Game (5)
After getting through the root- and rock-covered mountain trail, they reached a stone stairway built along the slope. It was much smoother than the previous path.
Shui Que was about to let go of the arm, but Xie Huahuang held him again.
“We’re starting on the stairs now. They’re a bit steep—take it slow,” he said with great patience.
Shui Que’s vision was hazy—he could see the shadows of the steps. But the person in front of him seemed to assume he was completely blind.
Since it was a kind gesture, Shui Que didn’t want to refuse, nor did he mention that he could still see a little.
He placed his hand back onto Xie Huahuang’s arm.
The foreign youth in the middle of the group furrowed his brow tightly. Unable to hold back, he scratched at his curls and said irritably, “Can’t you walk by yourself? Always making others help you—so slow! At this rate, we’ll get caught in the rain before we even reach the shrine.”
Xie Huahuang’s gaze flicked to the annoyed-looking Atticus. “It’s not a bother. The steps are high, and it’s easy to trip. It’s actually faster if I help Shui Que.”
His tone was calm, and he didn’t release Shui Que’s hand.
[Plot Progress Task: Tired of the long road, the burdensome you stop and demand to be carried by a teammate. (Estimated progress after completion: 51% → 53%)]
System 77 was now a very busy program—while managing the barrage of comments in the livestream, it also had to read out triggered plot tasks.
Learning from the confusion in the previous world’s unclear plot progression, 77 had installed a new plugin. By inputting the original novel that the world was based on, the system could simulate the plot progress bar and issue guidance tasks accordingly.
Just like now—though the original novel only vaguely mentioned Shui Que constantly dragging his teammates down in this instance without describing how, the new program used big data and the current context to generate a suggestion task. It helped keep Shui Que’s actions aligned with the original character design. These tasks were essentially optional—they were recommendations he could choose to follow or not.
For instance, in the previous instance, it somehow calculated that he needed to curse Chu Jingting with some extremely harsh words. The original book had simply said “verbal abuse,” but the system generated an entire nasty script and suggested he recite it to gain 5% progress.
Shui Que had, of course, chosen not to do that task.
The cursing was so vile it made him feel like his tongue would rot if he said it out loud.
Besides, he felt his actions alone had already dealt Chu Jingting a severe blow. There was no need for personal insults—Shui Que was afraid he’d overdo it and make the male lead completely fall apart.
Especially since…
He had accidentally sat on the guy’s face before. That probably already left the male lead with trauma for life.
Just thinking about it made Shui Que feel guilty.
This plot task, though, was still within reason…
He let go of Xie Huahuang’s hand.
Xie Huahuang thought he wanted to walk by himself and looked at him disapprovingly, reaching out to help again.
The blind boy pushed his hand away and tapped lightly on the stone steps with his slender white cane. Xie Huahuang noticed his eyes—slightly downturned at the corners. Even now, when he was rudely making demands, the expression that should have come off as arrogant and annoying only made him seem more pitiful and wronged.
“I want someone to guide me,” Shui Que said, aiming his words at the source of that youthful, aggressive voice. He remembered that irritating voice clearly. “Yes, I walk slowly. If you don’t like it, then just carry me on your back.”
After saying that, he even squatted right down on the ground for added effect, refusing to move.
【Oh my god, what a clever baby.】
【Right? Our little Shui can’t see—of course he walks slowly. So, any qualified simp, hurry up and serve as his porter!】
【Holy hell, not only can he help the whole team speed up, he can make the stinky dog happy too. Having our streamer as a teammate is such a bargain for you guys!】
【At this point, who can even tell the difference between Shui Shui and a genius?!】
But Shui Que, having said it himself, was the first to feel his face burn.
Crap. That was such a shameless thing to say.
He forced himself not to cover his cheeks as they warmed up.
So just let them reject him—whatever. The mission only required him to ask to be carried. It didn’t specify that someone actually had to do it for it to count.
Even Atticus was stunned speechless by how shameless the request was.
And Shui Que looked dead serious about not moving unless someone carried him.
He had never met anyone like this before. The blonde young man’s neck turned red with anger—Caucasian skin was thin and easily flushed, so the way his neck thickened and face turned red was striking, clearly boiling with rage.
“I’m not some shameless lapdog to pamper you! Why the hell should I carry you?” he snapped, raising his voice in fury.
With that one sentence, he thoroughly cursed Xie Qian into the ground.
Shui Que knew he was in the wrong, so he lowered his head and fiddled with his fingers. Still, since the other person didn’t agree to carry him on his back, he let out a small sigh of relief.
Li Jianshan felt like he had been born to be a peacemaker.
He waved his hand, signaling for Atticus to calm down and stop arguing. “Alright, alright, it’s normal that Shui Que walks slowly—he can’t see well. He’s smaller and younger than you, doesn’t have your stamina. This path is long and steep, of course he’s tired. I’ll do it, I’ll carry him.”
He looked at Shui Que the way one might look at a much younger brother—like a little kid.
As he spoke, he moved to squat in front of Shui Que, ready to carry him the rest of the way up the mountain.
But Shui Que couldn’t accept that. Startled, he almost fell backward.
At that moment, the man at the very front turned with a dark expression, his mouth curling slightly. “What now? Has Xie Qian carried you for so long that now without him, you can’t even walk?”
His voice was as cold and hissing as a snake spitting its tongue.
Why was the male lead so good at mocking people…
Shui Que remembered how, at the very beginning, he used to bully Chu Jingting, who wouldn’t even fart after being hit three times—didn’t say a word. He had even thought the guy was mute.
Turns out his mouth was pretty sharp. Must’ve been holding it in all this time—he probably hated him to death.
Shui Que pressed his lips together and patted the dust off his pants as he stood up.
Though Chu Jingting’s words were harsh, they conveniently saved him from having to find an excuse to refuse Li Jianshan’s offer.
He also didn’t let Xie Huahuang help him. Tapping his cane on the ground, he strode ahead tap tap tap all the way up the hill, even ending up five or six steps ahead of Chu Jingting.
Seeing him suddenly walk so fast, the people behind him quickly resumed their climb.
Shui Que walked at the very front, catching the cool mountain breeze, letting it blow away the heat from his face.
Every time he pushed a scene forward, it was always so awkward…
Shui Que felt like ever since he got this job in the big world, he’d grown a thicker skin.
At least he had just made progress in the storyline.
Now it was at 53%.
Stone steps meant there wouldn’t suddenly be giant tree roots sticking out of the middle of the path.
And every step was evenly spaced.
Once he got used to the height, he moved faster.
As they neared the halfway point of the mountain, the path twisted and turned.
At one sharp turn, a section of stone steps was broken. Shui Que stepped right into the gap.
But he didn’t fall.
In the blink of an eye, a large pair of hands reached out—one grabbing the back of his collar, the other gripping his shoulder—yanking him backward with brute strength.
The back of Shui Que’s head slammed into a rock-solid chest and the edge of a collarbone.
It hurt so bad that tears welled up in his eyes.
But it was still better than falling and hitting the ground.
Chu Jingting held his shoulder, turning him around, still maintaining a dominant posture, towering over him, trapping him in place.
He pinched Shui Que’s sharp little chin, and the soft flesh of his cheek spilled slightly between his fingers.
His face was so small, it felt like one hand could completely cover it.
His skin was smooth and pale, perfectly clean.
It was hard to believe that someone like this had spent six months inside an infinite horror game world without a single scar or wound—his personality hadn’t even hardened much.
Just this small bump had already brought tears to his eyes.
If he had really fallen to the ground just now, maybe those tears would’ve flooded the whole mountain.
Chu Jingting frowned and asked, “Aren’t you watching where you’re going?”
He was so flustered he blurted out a dumb question.
He’d forgotten that Shui Que couldn’t see clearly.
His expression was fierce, like he was about to rip Shui Que apart and eat him alive, but his actions were the exact opposite.
The tall, dark-haired man turned his back to Shui Que and, without hesitation, knelt down.
His voice was still firm: “Get on. I’ll carry you.”
“I won’t say it twice.”
【…Don’t fall too hard for him.】
【Bro, you are the proudest simp I’ve ever seen. So bold. So loving. So bitter. I’m learning from you. I toast to you…】
【Congratulations, you’ve unlocked the title: “Shameless Loyal Simp Who Coaxes with His Whole Life.”】
【Atticus just roasted two people in one sentence…】
【Yo yo yo, can’t walk anymore without our Shui Shui on your back, huh, Chu Jingting?】
【Bad step! Bad step! You almost hurt our baby!】
【Can the people above stop turning this into a parenting channel…】
“…Oh.”
Shui Que leaned onto his back, wrapping his arms around Chu Jingting’s neck.
His body tilted slightly, and Chu Jingting straightened up with him on his back, hands slipping beneath Shui Que’s thighs, adjusting him securely before striding forward.
He ignored the strange looks from the teammates behind them.
Up and down the terrain they went.
Mountain winds swept over them.
Shui Que let his mind drift aimlessly.
Being carried like this was nothing—after all, there had been much more embarrassing moments before. This was just another round of bullying Chu Jingting.
If he didn’t take advantage, it’d be a waste.
Sigh.
Chu Jingting was really a good person.
Despite all that had happened, he still carried him up the mountain.
Was this the mindset of a true powerhouse?
Shui Que had woken up at dawn to make offerings, and now after all the climbing, he was exhausted. His head nodded sleepily until it finally rested against Chu Jingting’s shoulder and neck.
“…”
Soft hair dangled down, brushing against his neck. Chu Jingting’s upper body tensed with discomfort.
His palms supported the crook of Shui Que’s knees. It would’ve been easier to hold closer to the thighs, but no matter what, he refused to move his hands inward.
He knew all too well what Shui Que’s thighs felt like.
Though the boy looked lean and small, all his flesh was concentrated on his thighs and butt—soft and plush.
Those legs had once clung to his waist the same way—no, even tighter.
Back in that dark tunnel, when Chu Jingting was crawling on his knees, he could feel Shui Que, clinging to his back, through the layers of clothing and pants—the warmth of those legs, the tender squeeze around his waist, the shape of flesh pressed tight against muscle.
It had been muddy, the kind of tunnel where you couldn’t stand upright. With Shui Que on his back, Chu Jingting moved forward on his elbows and knees. The process had been humiliating and exhausting, but he couldn’t quite remember the pain.
Time had slowed back then, so much so that he could feel Shui Que lowering himself onto his back to avoid the stalactites above, his chest pressing firmly against Chu Jingting’s spine.
The tunnel air had been thick, smelling of mud and earth.
Only his back had smelled sweet.
A single drop of sweat, drawn by gravity from Shui Que above, had slid down to Chu Jingting’s ear and then to his lips.
It had tasted sweet.
At the time, Chu Jingting had thought he was losing his mind from the humiliation—even his tastebuds were betraying him.
But time also passed quickly. So quickly he hadn’t gone insane. Bloodshot eyes, he had pushed forward until he saw the bright light at the end of the tunnel.
Just like now—one second he was climbing, the next he was standing beneath the peach blossom trees in the shrine’s courtyard.
When he stopped walking, Shui Que stirred from his nap. “We’re here…?”
He slid off Chu Jingting’s back.
The other man was burning hot.
Shui Que tilted his head. “Am I heavy?”
Carrying him all that way—was it really so tiring? Hot enough to nearly get heatstroke?
Chu Jingting: “Mm.”
“You’re lying,” Shui Que said, taking his folded cane from Chu Jingting’s hand. He extended it segment by segment and tapped it on the ground. “When Xie Qian carried me, he said I was too light, told me I needed to eat more.”
Chu Jingting didn’t answer. Shui Que thought he was angry.
So he retracted his earlier joke and gave Chu Jingting an out.
“Oh… I get it. You weren’t lying.”
Shui Que said.
“You’re just not as strong as Xie Qian.”
Xie Qian was old—a seasoned ghost hunter. Of course older people were stronger.
Since Shui Que couldn’t see, he had no idea Chu Jingting’s expression looked worse than if someone had just killed his whole family.
＊
At the gate of the Wubao Shrine lived the shrine priest and his family.
The priest was an old man—thin and shriveled like a bundle of firewood, but his eyes were still bright.
His face was all wrinkled and stern, his back so hunched it looked like he carried a mountain on it, and he stood by the gate, shaking his head.
“No, absolutely not,” the old shrine priest said firmly, standing his ground. “We have our rules—outsiders are not allowed to enter and worship inside the Wubao Shrine.”
Hearing this, Li Jianshan stepped forward cheerfully. “Elder, we’re from the capital. I’m a professor at the National Maritime University, and I brought my students here to visit the Wubao Shrine on Thousand Smoke Island. We mean no harm, I promise we won’t touch anything inside the shrine!”
He even held up three fingers and swore.
However, the old priest remained stern, his face set in a frown, hands clasped behind his back.
“No, no! Even if you’re from the capital—hell, even if you came down from the Heavenly Court itself—you still can’t enter. The shrine is sacred. Outsiders are not allowed inside!”
“If you’re here to pray or offer respects, there’s a donation box built into the outer wall. You can pray from outside. Wubao Gong hears all and will protect those who are sincere.”
As one of the key figures on Thousand Smoke Island, the old priest felt it was only proper to at least acknowledge distant visitors. But the rules were not to be broken.
He waved his hand dismissively. “If your heart is sincere, our shrine office has protective charms. Drop ten coins into the offering box and you can request one.”
While he was still speaking, he noticed that the group wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon—and they didn’t seem keen on making an offering either. The old priest started getting impatient. His age-swollen eyelids lifted slightly, opening his eyes a bit wider as he glanced over the group.
Suddenly, his gaze froze—
“Oh, it’s you…”
His cloudy eyes locked onto Shui Que.
“You’re from that Yuan Zhou boy’s family, aren’t you? You… might be allowed…”
He recognized Shui Que.
When Yuan Zhou had just returned after graduating from university, he came to the shrine to pay his respects and share the good news. He even asked the old shrine priest to help organize a wedding banquet later.
The old priest had shown a trace of emotion.
Hearing there might be hope, the group’s faces lit up with joy.
But then the priest changed his mind again: “Ai, no, no, still no! Your wedding banquet hasn’t been held, and without the witness and approval of Wubao Gong, you’re still considered outsiders! I’m the one managing this shrine, and this rule has been passed down for over a hundred years. I can’t break it. You can’t go in either!”
He stood like a statue in front of the shrine gate.
The group had no choice but to stare blankly at the peach blossom tree inside the courtyard, powerless to enter.
“In that case, let’s just go back for now,” Xie Huahuang suggested.
Atticus’s patience had run out. Anger swelled in his chest, and he snapped off a foxtail grass by the roadside.
“Climbed the mountain all the way up here, and just one sentence—‘outsiders can’t enter’—and we’re dismissed like that? Just going back?”
Li Jianshan: “Then what do you propose? It’s broad daylight. You planning to force your way in?”
They had only taken a few steps, not far from the shrine courtyard. Li Jianshan, worried the old priest might overhear, lowered his voice deliberately.
Li Jianshan: “Let’s go back and think of another way. Besides, there must be more landmark sites like this. Let’s return to the guesthouse, ask the owner and other locals, check out the other places first. Leave the hardest one for last.”
Going down the mountain was far easier than climbing up.
Shui Que made his way down on his own.
When they got back to town, he parted ways with the others.
Xie Huahuang asked if he needed someone to escort him back. Shui Que shook his head.
He could see the major landmarks clearly and followed them back. At the entrance to Qingtian Village, Coalball would come pick him up.
Before leaving, Li Jianshan told him, “We’ll head back to the guesthouse and check things out. Shui Que, when you get back, try asking Yuan Yu about it too.”
Shui Que nodded.
He had barely walked a few steps when a damp wind blew in, and rain began to fall in soft, steady drips.
Shui Que reacted a beat too late, lifting his head just as a fat raindrop smacked his upturned cheek. He reflexively closed his eyes.
The raindrops were like watery blossoms, melting into his soft, fair skin.
Guan Yizhou couldn’t believe he was capable of thinking such overly sentimental words.
A blue-and-white school uniform jacket was promptly draped over Shui Que’s head and upper body, completely shielding his face and torso.
Through the fabric of the jacket, Guan Yizhou pulled him close by the shoulder and jogged toward shelter from the rain. He muttered irritably, “Can’t even feel the rain? Are you dumb? Standing in the middle of the road daydreaming instead of finding shelter—have you never been soaked and run a fever before?”
Within seconds, the rain poured down as if the sky had torn open, falling straight and fine like threads. The entire world turned into white lines.
They stood under the eaves of a roadside shop to avoid the rain.
Since the jacket was on Shui Que, Guan Yizhou inevitably got wet himself. Rainwater streamed down the grooves of muscle in his arms.
He suddenly said, “I saw it. That guy carried you on his back.”
“How did you end up hanging out with those shady outsiders?” Guan Yizhou frowned, casually wiping the raindrops off his arm. “You’re clearly with Brother Yuan Zhou…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Setting aside the fact that Brother Yuan Zhou was already dead, Shui Que hadn’t even held a wedding banquet with him yet. Even if Yuan Zhou were still alive and married to Shui Que, it didn’t seem right to try to control who Shui Que interacted with.
“They’re not shady people…” Shui Que felt it necessary to clarify their identities for the sake of the group’s good name—he didn’t want them mistaken for petty thieves. “They’re all friends I met at the National Maritime University. Mm… we’re all friends.”
He even emphasized how close they were as classmates.
Guan Yizhou’s brows furrowed tightly.
His thoughts drifted to a magazine he had confiscated the night before at the town’s youth meeting. His lackey had said it was hard to come by, brought in from the city by his big brother who worked there.
The cover was gaudy, passed through who knows how many hands. The title about “modern love” was rubbed almost blank, and the paper was stiff, cheap, and yellowed.
He had flipped through it idly. The first few pages were full of indecent pictures and captions, which made his stomach turn. Later pages were all text.
At a glance, he had seen the word “homosexuality.”
Feeling like a thief, Guan Yizhou had immediately shut the magazine.
Only when he was back in his room with no one around did he dare to open it again.
The trashy magazine claimed that young, good-looking boys were very popular in the dating scene. Their private lives were usually messy, and having five or six boyfriends at once was nothing.
The second half was clearly some prejudiced nonsense.
But now, hearing Shui Que mention “friends” again—
His brain short-circuited, and he blurted out, “One carried you, one’s that four-eyed nerd, and the last is that golden-haired foreigner—don’t tell me those three are all your boyfriends?”
Rain pattered hard against the eaves and the tin awning above them. Shui Que didn’t quite catch what he said.
“Huh?”
Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.