vrcanaries Chapter 1028 Aiki
Chapter 1028 Aiki
"How could it be..." he muttered to himself, his fingertips trembling as he reached for his waist. Sure enough, there hung a warm, mutton-fat jade pendant, warm to the touch. He untied it and held it close to his face. In the light filtering through the window, he could clearly see the character "烟" (Inkstone) engraved on the back. The wear marks between the strokes were identical to the "Moyun Jade Pendant" in his in-game backpack—a rare accessory he'd found after three months of raiding a dungeon, only to find it dropped from the final boss. Suddenly, the clatter of horse hooves drifted through the rain, approaching from afar, the sound of hooves treading against the bluestone slabs remarkably distinct. Shen Yan instinctively peered over and saw a dark figure emerge from the depths of the rain, halting outside the courtyard gate with the reins in hand. The man wore a dark, tight-fitting suit, the fabric clinging to his body, outlining his muscular form. His hat was pulled low, the black veil at the hem obscuring most of his face, revealing only a sharp jawline and tightly pursed lips. As he dismounted, Shen Yan saw a scimitar slung at his waist, its scabbard inlaid with dark gold patterns, gleaming coldly in the dim light. Ye Jingfeng! Shen Yan's pupils suddenly constricted. Ye Jingfeng, the Left Emissary of the Demon Cult, was one of the most formidable bosses in the early stages of the game, renowned for his swiftness and ferocious attacks. Countless players had stumbled upon him, himself included—last year, during a livestream, his team underestimated Ye Jingfeng's hidden abilities and wiped out seven times before clearing the level. "Young Master Shen seems quite at ease," Ye Jingfeng's voice echoed through the rain, its voice cold and hard, like metal rubbing against metal, as if soaked in ice water. He lifted his hat, revealing narrow, long, almond-shaped eyes, their glare sharp as a knife, darting into the courtyard. "The Cult Leader invites you." He casually draped his whip over his shoulder, the tip pointed precisely in Shen Yan's direction, a silent threat. Cold sweat instantly broke out on Shen Yan's back. According to the game's plot, following Ye Jingfeng at this point would trigger the "Fallen Immortal Path." While this would grant the Demon Cult's top-tier technique, the "Netherworld Art," they would be hunted by the entire Righteous Alliance, forcing them to sneak around even when buying medicine. He remembered that, in order to complete this path, he'd spent a full two months just to max out the Demon Cult's favorability. But this wasn't a game! He instinctively tried to retreat, but found his body rigid and unresponsive. His fingertips dug into his palm, a sharp pain piercing his flesh. This wasn't a virtual neural response, but a tingling sensation in the flesh. "Young Master?" The girl, sensing something was amiss, shrank back from him, her voice timid. "Those are... the Demon Cult, right? Granny Zhang said they're all ruthless killers..." Only then did Shen Yan notice that the girl's hands were trembling slightly, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the oil-paper umbrella. Her fear was so real, not just a programmed NPC reaction, but the instincts of a living person facing danger. Ye Jingfeng seemed impatient. He twirled his whip in his hand and lashed it against the gate with a loud "crack." The wooden door swung open, revealing the muddy path outside and the hazy outline of Yanyu Town in the distance. "Young Master Shen, please don't keep the leader waiting." His voice took on a new air of pressure as he stepped through the gate. His dark robe brushed against the moss on the threshold, sending up a trail of water droplets. Shen Yan's gaze swept across the peach tree in the corner of the courtyard, across the wine jar beside the bamboo couch (the in-game item for peach blossom wine), across the little girl's frightened face, and finally settled on his own moon-white brocade robe. Every detail was eerily clear, a tangible quality. He remembered the title of his livestream: [Immersive Experience of 'Jianghu Painting Scroll,' Taking You on the Fallen Immortal Line]. But now, this "immersive experience" seemed all too real. "I..." Shen Yan opened his mouth, his throat aching with dryness. He wanted to say "no," to follow another side storyline in the game, feigning agreement and then taking the opportunity to escape, reporting to the Qingfeng Sword Sect to gain favor. But when he met Ye Jingfeng's cold eyes, all his words died in his throat. He could sense the murderous aura emanating from him. It wasn't just the "90% hostility" digitized in the game, but a real, bloody, oppressive feeling that made it difficult for him to breathe. "Young Master, don't go!" The little girl suddenly tugged at his sleeve with astonishing force. "I heard from the hunters in the village that the Demon Cult gouges out the eyes of disobedient people and soaks them in wine..." Her nails dug into his arm with a childlike sharpness. Shen Yan looked down at her reddened eyes and suddenly remembered the ending of this NPC in the game—Ye Jingfeng had casually killed him, just to force him to join the Demon Cult. At the time, he had dismissed it as an insignificant plot point, even complaining in the livestream, "The officials are so inhumane." But now, looking into those eyes filled with fear, he couldn't utter the words "It's okay." Ye Jingfeng's patience was clearly running out. He took a step forward, the air pressure around him dropping even lower, the rain seeming to circumvent him. "Mr. Shen, do I need to 'invite' you?" Shen Yan's heartbeat was like a drum, making his eardrums buzz. He knew he had no choice, at least not yet. Before he could figure out what was going on, he had to survive—not the resurrection of his game character, but to survive as "Shen Yan." He took a deep breath, the dampness of the rain and the fragrance of peach blossoms flooding his lungs, having a strangely calming effect. He patted the little girl's hand, trying to sound calm: "Don't be afraid, I'll be back soon." The words froze even him. These weren't lines from a game guide, but a subconscious reaction. Ye Jingfeng snorted coldly and turned to walk out, clearly not believing his promise. Shen Yan followed behind him, glancing back as he passed the courtyard gate. The little girl still stood by the bamboo couch, gazing at him from under an oil-paper umbrella. The rain had soaked her cloth skirt, making the pale green seem especially thin. As they walked through the rainy alley, Shen Yan's gaze uncontrollably swept over everything around him. The door of the grocery store on his left was half-open. The shopkeeper was bent over an abacus, his handwriting clear enough to see ink blobs on the ledger—in the game, it was just a blurry texture. The scent of mugwort wafted from the medicine shop on his right. A young clerk in a blue cloth shirt was hanging a sign on the door lintel, his wrist exposed by his movements. A crescent-shaped scar was visible on his wrist. The bluestone slabs beneath his feet were uneven, with puddles of varying depths, reflecting his and Ye Jingfeng's shadows: one moon-white, the other dark black, standing out against the rain. "Where the hell is this..." Shen Yan asked himself over and over. His wrist still felt the sting of the electric arc burn, his nose lingered with the mixed scent of peach blossoms and burnt food, and the jade pendant in his palm remained warm. He looked up and saw the memorial archway of Yanyu Town looming in the rain and fog. The three characters "Yanyu Town" were written on it in a vigorous and powerful manner, and the strokes were covered with moss.