Chapter 4: Your Mother is Dead
Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Your Mother is Dead
A rooster should have crowed at dawn, but the first thing Zhu Ge heard was the cackle of a hen.
"It hurts!"
When he woke, he was struck by an excruciating headache. His body’s first instinct was to collapse back into sleep.
But a moment later, he shook his head, forcing himself to become more alert.
’This is no time to rest and recover!’
’I have to act normal. I can’t let anyone realize something’s wrong!’
"Time to go. We’re plowing the fields."
His father rose mechanically and called out to him.
"Coming."
Zhu Ge replied, his expression unchanged.
But a closer look at his eyes would reveal they were shot with blood.
He rose, shouldered a hoe from memory, and followed his parents.
Outside, the sun blazed down. Summer was in full swing.
As they walked, Zhu Ge secretly observed his surroundings, noticing many people who were just like his family.
Their steps seemed normal, and some were even chatting.
But on closer inspection, their expressions were unnatural—stiff and wooden.
’My mission today is to gather as much information as I can, then find a path to survival.’
’But where is that path?’
’It lies with the "God"!’
His teacher had said that beings like Ghost Gods couldn’t exist out of thin air unless they reached a certain level of power.
It was like how a dragon has a Reverse Scale, and a person has a weak spot.
A dragon’s Reverse Scale is its weakness. To touch it is to court death, for it will surely provoke its wrath.
And this God was similar.
It might be a shrine, a statue, or something else entirely.
But in any case, as long as that key object was destroyed, the God itself could be destroyed.
That was what his teacher had taught him.
’So, my mission today is to gather as much information as possible.’
’Then find the God’s anchor and destroy it!’
After all, the God was most likely still hidden somewhere in the village, and since most of the villagers had their spirits stolen, they couldn’t help him.
’I can only rely on myself!’
’What kind of god is this?’
Zhu Ge discreetly scanned his surroundings, his mind racing.
His teacher used to say that Ghosts devoured the soul, while Gods stole the spirit.
This spirit-stealing could also be called ’po’-stealing.
A God would steal a person’s ’po’ to sustain itself.
The ’hun’ soul represents reason, memory, and thought.
The ’po’ soul, on the other hand, represents emotions and feelings.
People who had their ’po’ stolen would become like walking corpses, muddle-headed and unaware of themselves.
They wouldn’t even be able to speak, like someone in a walking vegetative state.
’But judging by the behavior of the people around me, that doesn’t seem to be the case.’
His parents included.
They seemed to follow their usual routine: waking up, eating, tilling the fields, returning home, and sleeping.
This was why most people would not notice anything was wrong with the people in their village.
"CLUCK... CLUCK..."
Nearby, a few hens led their chicks from one house to another, pecking at the ground as they went.
Zhu Ge frowned at the sight of them.
’No roosters?’
Moreover, while the hens and chicks appeared to be pecking the ground and looking for insects...
...in reality, they were only pecking mechanically, not actually eating any.
’They’re the same!’
’Their spirits have been stolen!’
’To not even spare common poultry... one can only imagine how indiscriminately ravenous this "God" is.’
At the same time, the fact that even common poultry could maintain their daily routines after having their spirits stolen proved how special this God was.
Lost in thought, he found they had already left the village and arrived at the fields.
The village was on a mountain. The houses were clustered at its center, while ring after ring of terraced fields cascaded down its slopes.
It was early morning. A thousand rays of rosy dawn light filled the sky. White butterflies danced and dragonflies flitted about. As far as the eye could see, green shoots formed a verdant wave, and a boisterous wind rustled through them.
In the early summer, the rice paddies shimmered under the pale light.
But Zhu Ge had no time to admire the beautiful scenery.
At a glance, it looked like a harmonious homeland of the Human Race, where hardworking people toiled.
But a closer look revealed that the farmers, men and women alike, moved like automatons.
There was no laughter, no sweat dripping onto the earth, not even the light bickering of couples.
They were all tilling the soil numbly, mechanically, with an occasional robotic utterance.
Zhu Ge’s body was stiff as he descended into the fields with his spirit-stolen parents, his mind racing to find a countermeasure, a breakthrough.
But unlike the clarity and calm he felt when equipped with ’Kunpeng,’ his head now felt as if it had been cracked open, vast and empty.
Yet it was also incredibly heavy, making him want to just collapse and sleep.
But the life-or-death crisis jolted his mind, and he didn’t dare relax for a second.
’How do I break this deadlock? Where is the shrine...’
Zhu Ge couldn’t help but glance at the simulator in his mind.
[Name: Zhu Ge]
[Lifespan: 43 years]
[Trait: None equipped]
[Inventory: Kunpeng]
After a single glance, Zhu Ge dismissed the thought of using it.
’I only have four chances left.’
’If I use it recklessly every time I run into trouble, I’ll probably die from running out of lifespan before the "God" even discovers my existence.’
"We’re here. Time to get to work."
His father’s voice sounded like it was trying to be cheerful, but it came out stiff and numb.
Seeing this, Zhu Ge shouldered his hoe and tried to imitate the stiffness in his own reply, "Time to get to work."
Meanwhile, his mind was racing.
’My teacher said that those who had their spirits stolen became like people in a vegetative state, lying there, unable to move.’
’But right now, everyone is still working. They haven’t become comatose.’
’This either means they haven’t had their spirits stolen, or that my teacher was mistaken, perhaps due to a lack of experience or some other reason.’
’But at first glance, it really does seem like the villagers have had their spirits stolen.’
’Because aside from being able to move and respond to me, they’re identical to the spirit-stolen in many other ways.’
His teacher had taught them a great deal.
But he had taught them very little about Gods, having mentioned them only in passing.
In this world, many things were consistent with what Zhu Ge knew from his past life, but the lore of Gods and Ghosts was slightly different.
Ghosts loved the ’hun’ souls of the living, while Gods preferred their ’po’ souls.
So what were the ’hun’ and ’po’ souls?
The ’po’ required a physical form to cling to, whereas the ’hun’ could exist independently of the body.
If a Ghost devoured one’s ’hun’ soul, the person was considered dead.
If a God drained one’s ’po’ soul, the person could still live, but their body would be alive without a mind—similar to someone in a vegetative state.
It was nothing like the current situation in the village, where things seemed so unchanged that a living person couldn’t spot the dead among them.
’But is it really a God?’
’Could it be a Ghost, or something else?’
Zhu Ge had at least confirmed it was indeed a ’God’ while he was equipped with the Kunpeng trait.
This proved that this ’God’ was an extremely unusual one.
Its uniqueness lay in its ability to allow creatures whose ’po’ souls had been drained to retain a certain level of activity and the most basic responses to external stimuli.
Just like his parents and the others tilling the terraced fields.
"God... God..."
The sun burned hotly on Zhu Ge’s back. His eyes grew redder, but his mind became increasingly sharp, his thoughts gradually clarifying...
’Based on the "God’s" unique nature, I have to analyze the situation, find its anchor, and then destroy it!’
THUD!
He slammed his hoe into the earth, turning over a clump of soil.
He was supposed to be clearing weeds from the edge of the field.
He let his body’s instincts skillfully guide the hoe while his eyes scanned the surroundings from their corners.
Just then, a girl of seventeen or eighteen came running cheerfully along a nearby ridge.
She wore simple clothes and was barefoot. Her calves were a pearly white, and while her face wasn’t delicate, her skin was fair and smooth. Her long hair was draped over her shoulders.
"Brother! Brother! This jianshouqing mushroom is so sweet!"
The girl waved two plucked mushrooms in her hand, a wide smile on her face.
Jianshan Village was located in Yunjiang, a region known for its many edible fungi, which the locals loved.
The girl chewed on one mushroom she held in her left hand while extending the other in her right, her body bouncing with joy.
"Hua Xiaomei?" Zhu Ge froze.
But his simple reaction caused his parents to turn their heads stiffly, their vacant eyes fixed on Hua Xiaomei.
Hua Xiaomei’s expression didn’t change. She continued to skip over, her eyes seemingly fixed only on Zhu Ge.
Zhu Ge fell silent.
"Brother, come on, eat it~" Hua Xiaomei said, stopping in front of Zhu Ge and holding out the mushroom. "It’s so fresh and sweet!"
Zhu Ge took the jianshouqing mushroom, his face devoid of expression.
’Jianshouqing mushrooms can be poisonous even when cooked properly, let alone eaten raw.’
’Something is wrong with Hua Xiaomei!’
His parents, meanwhile, continued to stare woodenly at the girl who shouldn’t have been there, their faces utterly lifeless.
"I have to till the fields," Zhu Ge said, mimicking the tone of the walking dead. "Go away."
"Why, Brother?" Hua Xiaomei popped the other jianshouqing into her mouth and chewed, its juices trickling down her chin.
"Lots of people have been tilling the fields lately, but it’s summer now. My ma said you don’t need to keep turning the soil in summer, right?"
She was right.
The core of proper farming wasn’t just intensive plowing; the ’meticulous work’ part was just as important.
But of course, Zhu Ge couldn’t say any of that.
He just picked up the jianshouqing mushroom. Instead of putting it in his mouth, he carefully examined the dirt clinging to it.
After a moment, he said in a stiff voice, "We don’t have to turn the soil, but we need to pull weeds."
"And besides, Hua Xiaomei..."
As he spoke, an almost imperceptible sigh crept into his voice.
"Hua Xiaomei, didn’t your mother die...?"
As his words fell, Hua Xiaomei’s body suddenly stiffened. "No, she didn’t... I..."
Before she could finish, Zhu Ge interrupted her again.
"Also..."
Zhu Ge’s voice was grim. "And you’re dead, too."
’Hua Xiaomei was already dead!’
’Zhu Ge had even attended her and her mother’s funeral!’
’He had seen her placed in a coffin and buried with his own eyes.’
It was because of their deaths that his teacher had first sensed something was amiss.
’And now, Hua Xiaomei had reappeared?’
To his surprise, after he spoke, his parents also began to speak, one after the other.
"Hua Xiaomei, you are already dead!"
"You and your ma are both dead!"
Their voices were as mechanical as Zhu Ge’s.
This gave Zhu Ge a slight jolt.
’Do my parents still have some of their memories?’
’Or are their reactions dependent on me? Do they just repeat what I say?’
Zhu Ge couldn’t help but recall their conversation from the previous night. He felt there was something unusual about his parents.
He would need to interact with more people to know if his parents’ strange behavior was an isolated case or if everyone was like this.
At that moment, upon hearing the words from Zhu Ge and his parents, Hua Xiaomei slowly lifted her head. She gave Zhu Ge a bizarre smile.
"I’m already dead?"
"Brother, the one who’s already dead is you!"