Based on Zhang Yuanqing’s experience, for a quest that lasts 24 hours, the worst thing you can do is wander aimlessly, like a headless fly, going here and there, only to face a crisis and then return to the spiritual realm. Unlike quests with clear objectives that directly tell you what to do and what to look for, Zhang Yuanqing now needs to first understand the dangers within the quest—once he knows these, everything becomes straightforward. He doesn’t need to rush to find Wang Xia'er right away; first, he’ll ask the Cat King what he knows. Outside the distant gate, Zhang Yuanqing pulls out a compact, elegant Cat King speaker from his pants pocket. "Have you been here before? Is there anything you'd like to share with me—anything about the quest itself?" he asks. In response, there is only silence. This cat doesn’t feel comfortable unless he’s being actively engaged... Zhang Yuanqing raises his hand and fans the air with two large palms. "Think hard!" he says. The cat king speaker, dented and battered, emitted a crackling hum of electricity. The very next moment, a 3D immersive surround sound filled the surroundings: "Ah ah ah ah... My lord, please, be gentle..." "Plip plip plip plip..." Zhang Yuanqing drew a sharp breath, silently placing the cat king speaker beside his feet. He then retrieved the blood-soaked blade, cracked along its edge, and pressed the tip against the speaker, his expression impassive. "Is this your final words? Very well. I shall send you off to meet your predecessor right now!" With a silent exertion of force, the blade pierced the black metallic casing of the speaker, leaving a small mark. The melodic ambiance was instantly replaced by the crackling sound of electricity. The cat king speaker yielded, preparing to play the next segment of audio. Zhang Yuanqing maintained a posture of pressure, exhaled a sigh of relief, and murmured: "I actually quite curious about who the female lead is this time..." Hearing the tone, he also sensed that the魔君 had once again taken on the role of a man behind his lover's back. Zhang Yuanqing, with experience, silently pondered this. At that moment, a clear, childlike voice emanated from the cat king speaker: "You clap one, I clap one, let's play games before dark." "You clap two, I clap two, touch your tongue and your ears." "You clap three, I clap three, now we have three with our shadows." The song unfolded in a monotonous rhythm, growing increasingly eerie with each listen. So pure and yet so haunting. What kind of ghostly lullaby is this...? Zhang Yuanqing listened quietly, confirmed that the audio had ended with no further sounds, then tucked the cat king speaker into his pants pocket, chewing thoughtfully on the melody. "Playing games before dark—there's a clear hint that danger looms after dark, and playing games is the way to avoid it. But what game exactly? Well, if I'm not mistaken, this song describes a game, much like passing the handkerchief. So, we're playing 'You tap, I tap'? The second line—touching the tongue and the ears—is easy to understand. The third line—'as long as there's a shadow, there are three'—the number three likely represents the number of people playing the game. Gasp! Zhang Yuanqing suddenly feels uneasy. 'As long as there's a shadow, there are three'—that sounds deeply unsettling. How can a shadow participate in the game? If the shadow actually joins in, it becomes a truly terrifying game. Based on my interpretation, the third line should serve as a warning: if we don't gather three players, the shadow will join the game. The shadow might very well be the very crisis itself." "Me plus the spectral figure makes two people. Xiao Doubi is a spirit and can't speak—so he shouldn't count as a playable character. Then I'll have to find someone else to play with." Ah! Zhang Yuanqing looked toward the mud house, thinking—wasn't that just a ready-made old man right there? But… Zhang Yuanqing's mind sparked with an idea. He summoned the spectral figure and entered the mud house again, ignoring the old man's resistance, and forced open his mouth. The old man's tongue was gone—cut off. "Indeed, it's not that simple. The second clue—touching the tongue and the ears—has effectively blocked this path… Wait, no—it must be telling me what to do next." Find the tongue! Or rather, restore the old man's tongue. "Let's proceed with this approach and verify it. For puzzles with no clear hints, the only way forward is through repeated exploration and gradual accumulation of insights." "I've got no choice. If my approach is wrong, I'll have to face the village's mysteries head-on." He looked up at the sky. A thin layer of clouds hovered over the dilapidated village, with no sun visible, making it easy to lose track of time. "After dark, there will be danger. I don't have much time left. The anomalies in the village have started with Wang Xiao'er. If I need to find someone to speak on my behalf, Wang Xiao'er should be the key." Zhang Yuanqing's thoughts were exceptionally clear. "Grandpa, you have to take us to meet Wang Xiao'er," Zhang Yuanqing said. The old man ignored him, struggling continuously. By now, Zhang Yuanqing had fully grasped the right way to interact with the old man and simply pressed his blood-soaked blade against the old man's neck. The old man immediately stopped struggling. The two reached an agreement and headed west toward the village. As they walked through the quiet, desolate countryside, there was no dog barking, no bird singing—everywhere, a sense of oppression and strangeness lingered. Zhang Yuanqing quietly summoned Xiao Doushi, sending him to randomly enter nearby houses to gather information. He found that villagers were present in every house, huddled inside, pale with fear, constantly glancing out the windows and at the doors, as if expecting something dreadful. That was odd—how could all the villagers still be alive? Though this means Wang Xia'er is likely still alive, which is good news, it's rather strange... They're afraid of something, alas, unable to communicate, silent, destined to learn nothing. Moreover, where is the female ghost? I haven't sensed any aura of lingering resentment. After walking for about ten minutes, the elderly man on the shoulder of the first deceased suddenly uttered two soft "ah-ah" sounds. At that moment, they stopped outside a small courtyard in the western part of the village, the courtyard walls built from irregular stones. The gate was open, half-closed. "Is this it?" Zhang Yuancheng raised his blood-scarred blade. The elderly man nodded, visibly hesitant. Zhang Yuancheng immediately split his consciousness in two—one part remaining in his physical body, the other transferring into the shade-body—and then instructed the first deceased to gently set down the elderly man, while he himself walked alone to the courtyard gate, pushing it open with a creaking sound. As soon as the first deceased entered the courtyard, a coughing sound came from the stone house, followed by a thick phlegm stuck in the throat: "Who?" "He can speak..." Wu Er No. 1 raised an eyebrow, and produced a thick cough as if something was stuck in his throat: "Are you Wang Xiao'er? I'm a stranger from out of town. I heard about what happened in the village and came to see it." He spoke cautiously, afraid that a single word might trigger an unseen crisis, so he deliberately avoided mentioning terms like ancient tomb or ghostly woman, and even omitted specifics about exactly what had happened in the village. Upon hearing someone speak inside the room, Zhang Yuanqing knew his approach was correct. Wang Xiao'er was a key figure in this scenario—while other villagers couldn't communicate with him, Wang Xiao'er could. After a brief silence, someone in the room asked, "What would you like to know?" Zhang Yuanqing inquired tentatively, "Why can't the people in the village speak?" "...A few weeks ago, I met a wandering Taoist who said the mountain behind the village was a site of exceptional feng shui, and that there must be a major tomb there. He was right. I've heard from village elders since childhood that there's a tomb on the mountain behind us—believed to be from the Ming Dynasty." "The tomb houses a noble princess of high rank, with numerous burial items, yet no one has ever been able to locate the tomb's position. The Taoist priest gave me a bundle of coins, saying he needed someone familiar with the mountain trails to guide him, and I agreed. 'We entered the mountains at noon, wandered all day, and by dusk, he finally found the tomb.' The Taoist priest can even determine the precise site and allocate the burial items? What sect is he from... Zhang Yuanqing mentally complained. Wang Xia'er continued, 'The priest told me that the burial items inside the tomb he would not take a single coin from—I would receive them all. All he asked for were any ancient manuscripts found within the tomb.' 'So the next day, I prepared tools, food, and water, and spent one full day and night digging alongside the priest to uncover the ancient tomb.' Hearing this, Zhang Yuanqing interrupted, 'Ancient manuscripts? What specific manuscripts does he seek?' "The thick, gurgling voice from the throat replied: 'The Daoist said the Princess was a cultivator who had lived for two jiazi periods. The royal court had collected numerous secret methods from across the land, many of them ancient texts. Among her burial goods, there must surely be such secrets. As her life drew near, he hoped to make a final stand in the tomb—what a fool! If the Princess understood the art of immortality, why would she have died at all? 'What ancient texts and secret methods? How could they compare to tangible wealth like gold and silver?' Another person seeking immortality, a Ming dynasty cultivator—each one of them seems to want to live forever. Zhang Yuanqing asked: 'Then what happened? How does this relate to their inability to communicate with the villagers?' 'Of course it does...' Wang Xia'er, inside the stone house, said. 'My health is poor, and speaking from this distance is a bit difficult. Come in, come in—I'll tell you then.' ... At the arena. The Yin Ji, veiled in black silk, heard the conversation of her attendants and furrowed her brows: 'The village with no speech...' She found the name familiar." A few seconds later, she recalled where she had heard that name before. Yin Ji turned to Fu Qingyang, dressed in white, her voice gentle. "The Silent Village is very dangerous." Fu Qingyang turned to meet her gaze, his expression deep and calm. "How do you know?" Yin Ji replied. "I remember the Demon King saying that the Silent Village was the only instance during his transcendental phase where he nearly died, suffering severe injuries. Before that, none of the S-tier villages he had entered had left him as badly shaken." When speaking of the Demon King, her tone was natural and her demeanor composed, as if that difficult chapter of their relationship were not something to be hidden, but rather a noble and dignified tale worthy of being shared openly. Upon hearing this, the various elders all turned to look at her. Elder Dog widened his eyes slightly and asked aloud, "What makes you say that?"