Qin Ci said, "Now we've got the Five Wisdom Dew, the Five Tribute Meats, the libation wine, and the lamps. All that's left are the offering bowls and those other items referred to by local names. Unfortunately, when I went to ask the villagers this morning, they all spoke the local language, making communication impossible."
"Indeed," Sha Liu nodded in agreement, "We had a lot of trouble getting the Five Wisdom Dew; we had to rely entirely on gestures to make them understand."
The group then laid out what they had obtained in the tent. They noticed that the Five Tribute Meats were all rather stale, pickled meats: beef, mutton, horse meat, bird meat, fish, donkey meat, dog meat, and even wolf meat.
"Although we don't know exactly which five kinds of meat the Five Tribute Meats refer to, with so many kinds, we're bound to find the right five," Qin Ci said.
Sha Liu hesitated, seemingly wanting to speak, but Qin Ci noticed and asked her what she wanted to say. After a moment's hesitation, Sha Liu finally spoke, "I'm a little worried. The Five Tribute Meat might... might contain... human flesh."
Everyone was shocked. Qin Ci looked at her, "Why do you say that?"
Sha Liu replied, "Since the large piece of meat in the Five Wisdom Dew refers to human flesh, why wouldn't the meat in the Five Tribute Meat also refer to human flesh?"
This caused a moment of silence among the crowd.
Zhou Bin, his face grim, said, "I think the possibility of human flesh is very high. Look at what the Five Wisdom Dew contains; it's all related to people. And as far as I know, during the slave era, this place seemed to have used human sacrifices."
"But where are we going to get human flesh?!" Ma Zhenhua took a few steps back in panic.
The crowd fell silent again.
After a long while, Zhou Bin suddenly looked up at Qin Ci and asked, "I remember you said that in this world within the painting, only we are real people from the real world, right?"
Everyone stared at him warily, unsure of his meaning. Qin Ci slowly nodded.
A resolute ruthlessness flashed across Zhou Bin's face as he gritted his teeth and pointed towards the village: "In other words, those people aren't actually real people. So if we want to get human flesh, we can use theirs—since they're considered people in the painting, their flesh is human flesh too. And even if we kill them, it's not like we've actually killed people. It's like a holographic game; you're just killing a realistic, life-sized virtual character, not a living, breathing person, so there's no need to feel guilty—what do you think?"
The crowd exchanged bewildered glances. The mother in the family of three, who had been covering her child's ears, couldn't help but say, "But...but in this painted world, they are, after all, living, breathing people in this world..."
"I told you this is a painting, not the real world," Zhou Bin said, somewhat annoyed at the group's lack of resolve. "Just because of your saintly heart, are we all going to lose our lives here?!"
The child's father, Mr. Geng, frowned. "Watch your mouth!"
Zhou Bin glared at him. "What? Am I wrong? If you're all cowards, don't drag us down. If you feel bad about your saintly hearts, then don't use the human flesh we've brought. Let's all look after ourselves!" Mr.
Geng was about to say something more when Mrs. Geng pulled him back, and he shut his mouth and said nothing more.
Zhou Bin looked at the others and asked in a deep voice, "What do you guys think? Should we go and do some cannibalism? Everyone, give your opinion!"
Seeing that no one responded, Zhou Bin simply asked them one by one, starting by glaring at Ma Zhenhua: "Tell me, should we go and do some cannibalism? If you do, team up with me. If you don't, you won't be able to leave the painting if you don't complete the task. Don't regret it. I won't share the cannibalism I get with anyone else."
Ma Zhenhua's lips trembled for a long time before he finally squeezed out a sentence: "Yes..."
Zhou Bin pressed on: "Then team up with me and go with me?"
Ma Zhenhua struggled painfully for a long time before finally nodding.
Zhou Bin didn't want to press the girls, so he asked Wei Dong: "What about you?"
Wei Dong answered quickly: "I'll go with him." He pointed to Ke Xun.
Zhou Bin stared at Ke Xun.
He had a very bad impression of this kid. He seemed carefree and dissolute. Apart from being close to people with the surnames Wei and Mu, he was distant and indifferent to others, and occasionally acted arrogantly. He was very annoying.
He coldly asked him, "You?"
Ke Xun still had that somewhat nonchalant, somewhat indifferent, and arrogantly irritating look: "Do as you please."
Zhou Bin said coldly, "Then remember this, I won't share the human flesh I get with anyone else."
Ke Xun shrugged indifferently and called to Wei Dong, "Dongzi, let's go, don't waste time."
He then left the tent.
Wei Dong followed him out and turned to look at the tent: "Aren't you waiting for your idol? What if he chooses to be with Zhou Bin..."
"He won't," Ke Xun stopped and sat on a large rock, looking at the tent with a determined gaze, "Even if he really needs human flesh, I believe he will definitely have a way to get it without killing anyone."
Wei Dong looked at Mu Yiran, who was walking out of the tent unhurriedly, and kicked Ke Xun in the calf: "Do you think if he knew how blindly you trust him, would he be so moved that he'd turn gay?"
Ke Xun smiled, stood up, and waved to Mu Yiran.
Mu Yiran glanced in their direction expressionlessly, then turned and walked in another direction.
Wei Dong: "..."
Looking at his poor gay brother, who was completely unfazed, he dusted himself off and ran off, calling out, "Dongzi, keep up!"
Poor guy, Wei Dong thought, even being a gay fan of a male god is harder than being a fan of a girl.
The three of them entered the village below the hillside again, and Ke Xun asked Mu Yiran, "Did everyone else agree to Zhou Bin's suggestion to kill and make meat?"
"After all, it seems that the claim that human flesh is included in the Five Tribute Meat is quite credible," Mu Yiran said calmly. "When faced with survival, people often make choices that exceed their own imagination."
"That girl named Zi Ling agreed too?" Wei Dong found it unbelievable.
Mu Yiran was too lazy to answer the question and simply chose a temple and went inside.
In the morning, Mu Yiran stayed outside. This time, upon entering, he went straight to a monk dressed as a practitioner in the temple, bowed, and said, "Dom, Gala, Dangka?"
These were the words the middle-aged man had instructed them to prepare for the ritual offerings.
"Dom" and the others seemed to be transliterations; even if the pronunciation wasn't perfect, after Mu Yiran repeated it several times, the practitioner finally understood. He first shook his head, said a few words in the local language, and then pointed north.
Mu Yiran bowed again, left the temple, and the three of them turned north.
To the north were rugged and steep mountains, seemingly endless. Mu Yiran stood on a high point and gazed into the distance for a while, his expression grave: "We're out of time today. We need to set off early to make a round trip and return before dark."
It was already afternoon; if they went north now, they would inevitably fail to return before nightfall, and the consequence awaiting them would be certain death.
Wei Dong shuddered: "So, it means we won't be able to gather all the necessary offerings for the mission today? Does that mean... tonight, we might... be chosen and killed by that monster again?"
The three didn't turn back. They continued searching and asking around, even visiting nearby villages for clues.
These villages were, in essence, small hamlets and tents made of mud and straw, along with a Satuo temple—a cluster of settlements.
The number of Satuo temples almost exceeded the number of houses; a small temple every three steps, a large one every five. Looking around, besides practitioners, the people entering and leaving the temples were ragged, emaciated villagers, regardless of age, gender, wealth, or social status. Here, everyone was a devout follower of the Satuo religion.
"Faith is probably the most powerful spiritual force in the world," Mu Yiran suddenly said casually.
"Oh? And what is your faith?" Ke Xun turned to look at him.
Mu Yiran didn't answer.
Ke Xun used his thumbs and forefingers to form the shape of a picture frame: "Art?"
Mu Yiran glanced at him, expressionlessly throwing him a single word: "Money."
"What a coincidence," Ke Xun casually pinched his thumbs and forefingers together, making a gesture that looked like counting money or making a heart shape, "My faith is also money."
Coincidence my foot! Wei Dong, who was listening nearby, curled his lip. You run a gym and don't even check on it for ten days or half a month, you never care how much you earn, you don't even look at the accounts, and every guy who needs money comes to you, asking for a thousand or two at a time, sometimes thirty or forty thousand. I think you've almost squandered the family fortune your father left you.
Before dark, the three returned to the large tent and found the others already there, but they were all pale-faced, their eyes still filled with shock.
Ke Xun glanced around and saw a few drops of fresh blood on the tattered blanket on the ground. Following the direction of the bloodstains, he found them on an earthenware pot in the corner.
A few strands of thick blood slid down the rim of the earthenware pot. The lid was tightly shut, but one could guess what was inside.
"Congratulations on your success," Ke Xun said expressionlessly to Zhou Bin.
Zhou Bin didn't speak, squatting there with his hands covering his head, violently pulling at his hair. Zhao Dan stood beside him, her eyes red and swollen, her whole body trembling.
No one uttered a sound; the tent was deathly silent.
Only Ke Xun, Wei Dong, Mu Yiran, and Qin Ci ate a little at dinner; the others didn't touch a bite. Li Ziling even ran out to vomit twice.
After dinner, the middle-aged man entered the tent and said to everyone, "Tonight, three people per tent. Don't wander around outside. Remember, it must be three people per tent."
He was about to leave when Ke Xun stepped in front of him, blocking his way. "I have a question, what does 'Gala' mean?"
"Gala is Gala, why do you ask?" The middle-aged man's dark eyes stared at Ke Xun's face. "Who are you? How can you not know Gala? Who are you! Are you a spy sent by the evil spirits?!"
Ke Xun finally realized that, in both the previous and this painting, the figures seemed to initially assume everyone was from their own world. But once they asked questions they considered inappropriate, suspicion would immediately arise.
It was as if some terrifying thing had infiltrated the crowd using a trick; once you saw through it and spoke out, that thing would immediately erupt and do something terrible to you.
"Oh, don't misunderstand," Ke Xun said calmly, stepping aside. "I just wanted to start a conversation with you.
" "What are you going to talk about!" The middle-aged man glared at him fiercely. "You'd better behave yourself, or I'll complain to the elders!" he said angrily as he strode out of the tent.