Chapter 77

The fierce, wrathful Buddha-face turned away, revealing the other Buddha-face behind it, kindly-browed and gentle-eyed.

The statue in the shrine had become a true two-faced Buddha.

Shen Songyue gave a laugh, only the laugh sounded rather hoarse, with a catch in it — no telling whether she was laughing or crying.

"…One thought and you become a Buddha, one thought and you become a demon."

In her grandmother's dungeon, Liu Zhiyi had seen a two-faced statue with its head turned.

She hadn't understood then what it meant, but faced with this scene now —

she understood a few things.

"The statue is actually a show of many people's feelings?"

Liu Zhiyi asked.

Shen Songyue seemed to want to laugh, but only got out a dry little air-sound.

"You could put it that way."

"The evil side has turned away."

Liu Zhiyi looked at Shen Songyue, then lifted her eyes to the flashlight beams that could pierce the dark.

Even without powerful weapons, even though some of them didn't count as players at all —

those points of flashlight seemed to join into a road of light, splitting the dark to pieces, and among them one road of light was advancing toward her, steady and slow.

Like a galaxy set down before her.

Liu Zhiyi opened her mouth, not knowing what to say, not knowing what she could say.

Gazing at those galaxies, one after another, she suddenly felt her face was wet.

Reaching up to touch it, she found her face was covered in tears.

In that moment she finally made up her mind; gripping the scissors, she turned and lunged at Shen Songyue.

Unexpectedly, Shen Songyue didn't struggle, and was pressed to the ground by Liu Zhiyi with no effort at all.

Seeing her so "cooperative," Liu Zhiyi suddenly felt uneasy.

She'd seen the stubbornness and drive of Shen Songyue's crowd.

But right now she looked like a deflated ball, all her spirit drained clean away.

What was wrong?

Before Liu Zhiyi could say much, a beam of light fell on her.

It was a rescue team.

On reflex Liu Zhiyi bore down, pinning Shen Songyue to the ground.

Shen Songyue still didn't struggle.

Facing a Shen Songyue like this, Liu Zhiyi didn't know what to do for a moment, but a figure walked out from the end of the beam.

"Let me."

Liu Zhiyi looked up and found it was an old woman with gray hair.

She gave an "oh," and saw the old woman take out a pair of fire tongs, clamp them onto the back of Shen Songyue's neck — just like picking up a honeycomb-coal briquette — and lift her up.

Liu Zhiyi blinked a few times, and saw Shen Songyue grow smaller and smaller, until she became a little plush doll with a phone on its head.

The old woman beckoned, and someone behind handed over a yellow burlap sack; she carefully put the clamped doll into it.

Liu Zhiyi let out a breath, but seeing Shen Songyue shrunk down like this, she felt a little worried.

The old woman seemed to see what was on her mind, and explained.

"Just shutting her up. Won't hurt her."

Liu Zhiyi's heart settled completely.

The old woman turned and smiled at her.

"Girl, you're a player too, eh."

Liu Zhiyi startled, then nodded.

She noticed a red armband on the old woman's right arm, marked "Player Volunteer."

The old woman: "Did you run in yourself, or get swept in?"

Liu Zhiyi told her everything she'd been through.

The old woman's expression went grave.

"You can find that cat's body pieces?"

Liu Zhiyi nodded.

The old woman: "Then we'd best be quick. The dungeon's spreading fast."

With that, the old woman walked a few steps ahead and had Liu Zhiyi point the direction.

Once she'd pointed, the old woman took the lead at the very front.

At first Liu Zhiyi felt a bit embarrassed, but after a stretch she found she couldn't even keep up with the old woman's pace.

The old woman muttered and grumbled as she walked, in dialect, some of it needing close listening to understand.

She grumbled about the dungeon delaying her going home to cook, and about the cat's crowd being cracked in the head.

"Can't figure it out yourself, fine — but you go and set a whole circle of people around you on edge."

The mood turned rather odd; a scene that should have been tense and pressed for time was, with the old woman's muttering, drained of much of its tension.

Liu Zhiyi thought a moment and glanced down at her watch.

She saw a new status bar had appeared on the task screen.

[The old lady talks a lot.]

[In this state, nothing said and nothing done touches your heart (yes yes yes, right right right, you're absolutely right!).]

The old woman unscrewed the thermos at her waist and took a sip of water to wet her throat.

"Feel any better?"

Liu Zhiyi: "Not as tense. Thank you."

The old woman switched from dialect to standard speech.

"This dungeon's too big. Wild thoughts easily form a group dungeon, and besides us players, a lot of ordinary people have come in too."

As she spoke, her gaze swept to the shrine in the dark.

"These are all ordinary people turning into players."

Liu Zhiyi gazed at the two-faced Buddha in the shrine.

"Is the statue turning around a good thing?"

The old woman: "I don't know, but I've heard a little story about the two-faced Buddha."

Liu Zhiyi tugged the red thread on her hand, fixing the direction ahead again. "What story?"

The old woman: "They say one year it didn't rain for the longest time, and there were locusts too, and the villagers of one village prayed to the Buddha for ages and felt it did no good."

Liu Zhiyi had heard this story too.

"They pushed the statue down."

The old woman gave a laugh.

"And not long after, heaven sent down rain."

Really the core of the story was that feudal superstition can't be trusted; Liu Zhiyi had heard many like it as a child — in that era, using science to break down superstition was in fashion, so a lot of these little stories naturally came about, a mark of the times.