*note I was also confused with this chapter and the jumps
[Post Title]: #Li Sheng is dead#
[Original Post] Li Sheng is dead.
[Comment 1] ? Who’s Li Sheng?
[OP] Li Sheng is dead.
[Comment 3] Who is that? How did he die?
[OP] Li Sheng is dead.
[Comment 5] Is the OP brain-dead? Can’t you say something coherent?
[OP] “Ah Bu, what’s wrong?” Hu Jiumei asked softly, eyes closed as she stroked her agitated guide dog. “Is it the renovation noise bothering you?”
Ah Bu was a three-year-old Labrador guide dog, normally very gentle.
But Hu Jiumei had never seen Ah Bu this restless—pacing in circles around her, visibly anxious.
The unusual behavior seemed to have started when a sharp, grating renovation sound rang out.
Normally, a trained guide dog wouldn’t react so strongly to noise. But today, for some reason, Ah Bu seemed extremely distressed by that particular sound.
“Ah Bu, don’t be scared. I’ll contact the property manager right away.” Hu Jiumei’s fingers moved across her phone screen. The voice assistant read out the names of her apps. She opened her social app and, using dictation mode, said:
“Hello, manager. It’s noon right now, but someone in our building is doing renovations. Could you please check?”
[Property Manager]: Many residents are currently renovating. If you hear persistent noise, we ask for your understanding.
The assistant read the manager’s message aloud in a flat mechanical voice.
Hu Jiumei’s fingers froze midair.
Something felt wrong.
The property manager used to call her “Jiumei” and loved asking about Ah Bu. But today… it was like a different person entirely.
Hu Jiumei replied: “Alright, sorry to bother you.”
Since the property management couldn’t solve the issue, Hu Jiumei decided to take Ah Bu outside.
She attached the leash and guide harness to Ah Bu and picked up her white cane. “Ah Bu, let’s go to the park.”
As soon as Ah Bu was in the guide harness, he snapped into work mode. All the earlier signs of agitation vanished—or rather, were forcibly suppressed.
The steady pull from the leash gave Hu Jiumei more reassurance than her white cane. She opened the door, and the moment she stepped out, the renovation noise abruptly stopped.
Had the renovation ended?
At that moment, Hu Jiumei heard the dragging sound of footsteps. As the sound approached, she felt the leash tug gently forward.
“Ah Bu, let’s go back.” Since the noise had stopped, there was no need to be out during the sweltering noon heat.
But strangely, Ah Bu—normally obedient and well-trained—disobeyed her command for the first time and continued to guide her outward.
“Ah Bu?” Hu Jiumei suddenly sensed something was wrong.
What had changed?
The direction of the pull on the leash felt different—like Ah Bu had somehow risen to her height.
Bewildered, Hu Jiumei lifted her hand and traced along the leash.
She touched a person.
…
From a gaping mouth burst countless red vines like celebratory ribbons, instantly swallowing the shriveled old man whole.
The players, finally realizing what was happening, stared in wide-eyed horror at the villagers entering with gifts—like they were watching a bomb about to go off.
But the villagers themselves acted as if nothing was wrong. With beaming smiles and joyful hearts, they gave gifts and offered well-wishes.
One after another, the villagers were consumed before the players’ eyes—erupting into red vines from within, dying without leaving behind a trace.
And yet, every villager died with eyes full of sincere joy—not a trace of fear or resistance toward the grotesque vines. Just pure happiness. This kind of blissful expression in such a horrifying scene was not empathetic—it was terrifying.
“Holy cr*p, what the h*ll is going on, Brother Yan?!” The teammates nearby panicked. “Are they all going insane? Is this the disease Double Happiness Village was talking about?!”
Yan Lang stared grimly at the villagers who smiled as they died. After a long pause, he finally said, “So that’s it.”
“So that’s what the villagers meant by being too busy.”
“What?”
“Our task isn’t just cleaning the house, hanging red banners, replacing quilts, or arranging the gifts they bring.”
“Then what is it?”
Yan Lang replied word by word: “It’s to summon more villagers.”
“What??” Seeing that his teammates still hadn’t grasped it, Yan Lang seemed to be talking more to himself than to explain:
“When it asked us to help, it didn’t mean cleaning or decorating—it meant finding more villagers from Double Happiness Village.”
“In this dungeon, the villagers are the resource.”
…
“We’re helping Shen Junxing harvest these villagers,” She Qulin said calmly.
Just after finishing an amputation surgery for a patient, God of Smooth Success—face still covered in blood—looked dazed. “Huh? What harvest?”
She Qulin stood in the simple clinic, gazing at the long line of waiting patients. He analyzed coolly: “The strange disease in Double Happiness Village comes from those red vines inside the villagers.”
“Those vines are a manifestation of a powerful, supernatural force.”
“If I’m right, Double Happiness Village is very likely the stronghold of that eerie, mysterious entity.”
God of Smooth Success struggled to keep up: “Why do you think that?”
“Because the system made it clear.”
Under God of Smooth Success’s blank stare, She Qulin tapped his thigh and said, “The disease came first.”
“Once there’s a disease, people die. Once there’s a disease, doctors are needed.”
“The disease is the original source.”
“And more importantly…” She Qulin added calmly, “You’re lucky.”
God of Smooth Success: “?”
“Though when we searched ‘Double Happiness Village’ in the in-game network, all we found was a tiny dot on the map, and we came here using that map.”
She Qulin pointed to a plain-looking villager waiting in line outside the clinic. “Do you remember him?”
God of Smooth Success blinked in confusion. “Huh?”
God of Smooth Success was extremely lucky—with a luck stat of 9, the highest among all players. That’s why She Qulin had teamed up with him.
He trusted the stat system.
Just recently, while on their way to the village, they’d run into a villager on the mountain road.
Although the older sister wasn’t very old, she had always been a smart child. Their mom had warned them: if it was just the two of them at home, they must never open the door for any knock.
Seeing that her little brother was about to shout for their mom, the sister quickly covered his mouth.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The knocking at the door continued, but there was no voice coming from outside.
The younger brother seemed to sense something, and he suddenly quieted down. The two children stared at the door with wide, dark eyes.
Mom never knocked like that. If she ever forgot her keys or had her hands full with groceries and couldn’t reach for them, she would call them from outside. Her voice was loud, but her knocking was always gentle.
If it was a food delivery from the supermarket, the delivery person would knock twice and say, “Hello, delivery.” If it was a courier with a package, they would say, “Hello, express delivery.”
Mom said even in those situations, they should never open the door right away. They mustn’t let people know that only two kids were home.
If they wanted to help Mom bring something in, they had to look through the peephole to make sure the person had left before taking it inside.
Mom also said that if someone claimed to be a friend, relative, or coworker of hers, no matter what they said, never open the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
But Mom never said what to do if someone just kept knocking… and didn’t say a word.
The younger brother swallowed nervously, pressing his hand gently against the one covering his mouth. His sister was holding on a little too tightly—like she was too tense to control her strength.
“Go to Mom’s room,” she whispered. “Second drawer of the left nightstand. There’s a phone. Call Mom and tell her someone’s been knocking at the door nonstop. The password is…”
The brother hurried off to the master bedroom.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The knocking continued—each thud heavy and forceful.
The sister stared wide-eyed, like a wary little animal, unblinking as she watched the door handle tremble with each hit.
She felt like the door… was staring back at her.
It was a child’s instinct—a strange sensation of being watched.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Suddenly, the sister looked toward the dark peephole on the door.
The peephole.
Why do adults call it a “cat’s eye”? She had never understood before, but now she suddenly realized—it really did look like an eye. The door’s eye.
It felt like something on the other side was staring right at her.
But she remembered what Mom had said—only people inside could look out through the peephole. People outside couldn’t see in.
Mom never explained why. But Mom wouldn’t lie.
The sister hesitated, then slowly and carefully dragged a chair over, trying not to let its legs scrape the floor and make a loud noise.
With the banging still echoing through the room, she finally managed to move the chair in front of the door. With each knock, her heart thudded harder.
She swallowed hard, climbed onto the chair barefoot, and inched toward the peephole.
Suddenly—footsteps sounded behind her!
A chill ran up her spine.
She spun around.
Her little brother had returned, holding the phone up with a panicked look. The screen showed there was only one password attempt left.
The sister took the phone, hands trembling, and carefully entered the password. With one hand holding the phone and the other bracing against the door, she held her breath as the phone rang—and the banging continued.
She slowly pressed her eye to the peephole.
“If you hear knocking outside your door, it’s normal. But if the person doesn’t speak, ignore them. If the knocking lasts too long, move away from the door immediately. Do not look through the peephole or the gap.”
…..
Building 11, Unit 3, Apartment 103 of Youai Community.
Although he sometimes crawled in the dark when under stress, it was usually late at night. It was rare to see someone behaving so oddly in broad daylight.
As he got closer, the little paper effigy on the man’s gray hoodie stood out starkly. Whether it was the wind or his imagination from working too long, Wang Xiaoming could swear he saw the paper effigy’s tiny legs… moving.
Am I hallucinating from hunger?
His stomach was indeed growling with emptiness. Determined, he searched harder for his keys—finally spotting a fallen one on the ground behind him.
So that’s where it was.
Wang Xiaoming quickly picked it up. As he stood, he noticed the man who had been walking backwards was now climbing the stairs—forward this time. He only caught a glimpse of the man’s back, the paper effigy’s legs still moving like it was climbing invisible steps.
Yeah… definitely just hallucinating from hunger.
***
Meanwhile, a village NPC was coming down the mountain.
God of Smooth Success went up to ask, “Grandpa, how do I get to Double Happiness Village?”
The old man seemed hard of hearing. He let out a confused “Huh?” and shouted back in a thick rural accent:
“What Double?”
“Grandpa! Double Happiness Village!”
“What Village?!”
“Double Happiness Village! Do you know how to get to Double Happiness Village?”
“Huh? What village?”
“Ah never mind, Grandpa. Safe travels!”
“Then I’m heading back to the village!”
Just like that, the utterly ordinary conversation came to an end.
In the game Anomaly Resurgence, because the NPCs were too interactive and too numerous, these kinds of meaningless exchanges happened all the time.
So God of Smooth Success didn’t give the little episode a second thought—until this moment, when She Qulin reminded him in his ear: “That hard-of-hearing NPC.”
Hu Jiumei jumped in fright and snatched her hand back as if shocked by electricity.
At that moment, she heard a very gentle voice: “I’m sorry, did I scare you?”
Tang Yu was holding the trembling guide dog in his arms. He glanced at the eerie being plastered with talisman seals, then at the blind friend who was panicking.
On the red talisman, countless scarlet vines erupted, wrapping and covering that back figure completely. Strange sounds crept out, making the blind friend even more uneasy, so Tang Yu softened his voice: “I saw your guide dog and couldn’t resist holding it. I truly apologize.”
The Labrador was already full grown and heavy. If not for saving it from that eerie hand, Tang Yu would never have attempted to carry such a large dog.
“Is its name Ah Bu?” Tang Yu pretended he had read the dog’s tag, and said softly: “It looks a little tired, not much energy to be outside. Maybe going home for some sleep will help.”
As he spoke, Tang Yu gently set the poor guide dog down, leaving a talisman tucked in its working vest.
“Good afternoon.” He waved to the resident and her guide dog.
At the doorway, the little paper effigy and the red vines hurried to follow along with his movement. The two clearly didn’t get along, bickering as they went. But whenever Tang Yu looked their way, they immediately stuck together like the best of brothers.
Tang Yu pretended not to notice their petty squabbles—nor did he acknowledge Yu Gu’s face, which from start to finish had looked even more pitiful than the Labrador’s.
Ever since Li Sheng’s paper effigies had teamed up and come knocking, Yu Gu had been wearing that expression.
In truth, Tang Yu hadn’t wanted any further entanglement with Li Sheng. But just recently, Li Sheng had suddenly contacted him, saying that since Tang Yu had referred a lot of business to the family’s paper shop, they had specially prepared some little paper effigies for him in gratitude.
Whoever drew in the pupils for these little paper effigies, the effigies would obey their commands—including helping save residents of Youai Community.
Through the peephole, a little girl’s eyes saw the back of a man in gray clothes and black pants. On the dusty gray jacket, for some reason, a cute little paper effigy appeared.
The doll’s little legs swung back and forth, and that strange back figure swayed in sync with it as it walked farther away, disappearing at the end of the corridor.
“Hello?” The phone connected, and her mother’s voice came through: “What made you suddenly think to call Mom?”
The little girl’s eyes went wide. She saw the elevator doors open, and her mother stepped out carrying two large bags. Tilting her head, she held the phone between cheek and shoulder, her face glowing with happiness: “Have you been doing your homework obediently?”
All day at work she had felt restless, always thinking of the two children at home. Finally she had taken leave and returned early. “Guess what Mom brought back?”
The bag of fried chicken swung in her hand. She opened the door, and the two children rushed into her arms.
…
A metallic clatter rang out on the floor.
Wang Xiaoming turned his head and saw that man in gray clothes and black pants walking toward him—backwards.
Wang Xiaoming nodded to himself. This kind of thing didn’t happen often.
Perhaps everything was just a hallucination born of Tang Yu’s over-nervousness.
…But no, it couldn’t be wrong. That feeling—that sense of something secretly watching him.
Tang Yu was often slow to react in many things, but in this, he had an uncanny sharpness.
Yes. Something was watching him. But it wasn’t the two paper effigies on the balcony.
Then what was it…?
The pale skin of his back shuddered, the shoulder blades fluttering like a butterfly’s wings. Tang Yu’s gaze froze on the balcony, his expression going utterly blank—
Wait.
Behind him.
On his desk.
Next to the calendar.
There was a third paper effigy.
Tang Yu stiffly turned his head, bit by bit, to meet the doll’s pitch-black, blurry eyes.
The rustling on the balcony suddenly ceased.
The two big paper dolls, one red and one green, turned their heads in unison, their grins widening. They laughed and said:
“He saw us!”
