Though the surroundings were illuminated by the flickering flames of the fire, and the scene was filled with villagers watching the opera, hearing those words made the players’ feet grow cold involuntarily. It felt as though the atmosphere had suddenly become much more sinister. They hurriedly retreated, distancing themselves from the empty long benches in the first row.
The gong and drums on stage sounded three times, marking the official start of tonight’s performance. The villagers fell silent, focusing intently on the stage.
After an opening sequence of music, the sound of a melancholy opera song came from behind the curtain. A performer dressed in a blue robe took small, deliberate steps onto the stage. Her sharp, high-pitched voice lingered in the air, yet the players couldn’t quite understand what she was singing. All they felt was that the sound was sorrowful, like a lament, echoing eerily through the night in this mountain village, making it all the more terrifying.
The villagers, however, were engrossed in the performance. The old woman who had previously forbidden them from sitting on the front row benches closed her eyes and nodded in satisfaction. Her wrinkled voice carried a hint of approval: “They chose a good play, Sacrifice to the River.”
The players knew next to nothing about opera, and after several hours in this scenario without triggering any storyline, they were too anxious to care about how well the performer sang or what she was singing. As the scenes unfolded on stage, their agitation grew.
“What’s going on? We haven’t triggered any plot yet. Doesn’t that mean tonight will be even more dangerous?”
“Do we need to wait for her to finish singing? We’re part of the opera troupe, right? Maybe the key NPC to trigger the plot is backstage?”
“Is the clue in this opera? But we don’t understand what she’s singing!”
Li Zhi, standing nearby, said, “She’s singing the story of Liu Bei and Sun Shangxiang.”
Wen Qianxue also nodded. “Yes, I recognized it too. It’s about the Peach Garden Oath and Zhuge Liang.”
While the group whispered among themselves, the high-pitched opera singing on stage suddenly stopped. The performer in blue spoke in a mournful tone: “Now that the Imperial Uncle is dead, there is no reason for me to continue living in Eastern Wu. I must bid farewell to my mother and throw myself into the river.”
The villagers immediately clapped and cheered.
The players hadn’t understood the opera until now, but this line was plain enough. One of the players, well-versed in Romance of the Three Kingdoms, quickly realized: “It’s the story of Sun Shangxiang throwing herself into the river after Liu Bei’s death!”
On stage, the performer’s dramatic gestures with the ceremonial flags lent a solemn and tragic air to the small stage. With the sudden beat of the drums, the performer turned, and a white silk sash appeared in her hands.
Above the stage, there was an awning built to shield the actors from the elements, and a horizontal beam in the middle. The performer gracefully stepped forward, her voice rising again, eerie and forlorn: “Sun Shangxiang bids farewell to her mother, and after parting, she seeks death.”
She stepped onto a prop chair, tossing the white silk up with a flick of her wrist. The sash floated gracefully over the beam and hung down.
Chi Yi couldn’t help but ask, “Wait, isn’t she supposed to be throwing herself into the river? Why does it look like she’s about to hang herself?”
Another player was equally confused: “Did I read a fake version of Three Kingdoms? Didn’t Sun Shangxiang drown herself, not hang herself?”
The villagers in the audience also seemed surprised by this turn of events. They sat up straight, leaning forward to watch the performer’s every move on stage.
As the white silk formed a noose, the woman in the opera costume grabbed the silk with both hands and slipped it around her neck. With the line, “Better to die and meet my husband in the afterlife,” she suddenly kicked the chair out from under her. Her body dangled in midair, her costume flowing downward, and her delicate embroidered shoes swayed in the wind.
“Holy crap!” one of the players with pink hair leaped to their feet. “She’s actually doing it for real?!”
The audience erupted in gasps. The old woman in the second row, leaning on her cane, shot to her feet. Her hunched figure trembled as she stared, motionless, at the woman hanging on stage.
The opera troupe backstage was still unaware of what had happened in front until they heard the player’s shouts as they rushed onto the stage. When they pulled back the curtain and saw the scene, chaos broke out. “Quick! Get her down!”
A few people rushed to the stage, grabbing the woman’s legs and pulling her down from the noose. Hanging is a slow death—cutting off the airway takes at least five minutes before the victim fully suffocates. But from the time she kicked the chair to the moment they pulled her down, no more than two minutes had passed. Yet, the woman was already dead.
“Fang Lin! Fang Lin!” A middle-aged man came running out from backstage, nearly fainting at the sight. “What happened? How could this happen?!”
The actors, still wearing their makeup, looked terrified, unable to speak. They had performed this opera many times. Fang Lin was the star of the troupe, and Sacrifice to the River was her signature performance. She had sung it at least eighty times, if not a hundred. None of them could understand why, in the middle of her performance, she had suddenly hanged herself.
The players stood to the side, filled with uncertainty. They still hadn’t figured out the objective of this game scenario, and now someone had died, leaving their minds in complete disarray.
A middle-aged man threw himself on the body, wailing in grief. Meanwhile, a few more people stepped onto the stage. Leading them was an elderly man with an authoritative air, leaning on a cane and supported by a younger man as he walked forward.
“Uncle Kuang, Uncle Kuang! The village chief is here!”
The middle-aged man, addressed as Uncle Kuang, stopped wailing and stood up, his face etched with sorrow. “Village Chief, I’m truly sorry. You were kind enough to let us perform in the village, and now something like this has happened…”
The village chief sighed, glancing briefly at the body before turning away. “Troupe leader, do you know why this happened? A death in our village is always an ill omen. I’ll need to give everyone an explanation.”
Uncle Kuang, his eyes red, shook his head. “I don’t know… She was fine before going on stage. How could this suddenly happen…”
Fang Lin was the backbone of the troupe. This opera troupe made a living by performing in towns and villages across the country, and they relied on her exceptional singing voice to draw crowds. Now that she was gone, the troupe’s future was uncertain, and Uncle Kuang felt the loss more keenly than anyone.
The village chief sighed again. “I urge you to stay strong. What’s done is done, and regret won’t help now. Do you know where this young woman’s family is? You should take her body back home for a proper burial as soon as possible.”
Uncle Kuang shook his head. “Fang Lin was an orphan. I picked her up years ago, and she’s been traveling with the troupe ever since…”
He paused, his face suddenly stiffening as a thought crossed his mind. Then he pounded his chest in regret. “Ah! I shouldn’t have let her perform Sacrifice to the River! Her husband passed away not long ago. She must have been affected by the sorrow in the play and followed in Sun Shangxiang’s footsteps, ending her life to reunite with him!”
Under the flickering lights, the expressions of the village chief and several nearby villagers turned strange. It wasn’t a look of fear or shock, but rather one of secret joy.
As expected, the village chief spoke again: “Are you saying that this woman’s husband recently passed away?”
Uncle Kuang, filled with grief, nodded. “Yes, he died of an illness. He’d been bedridden for years, and all of Fang Lin’s earnings went toward his care. I thought… I never imagined she would love him this much!”
He had thought that with her husband gone, she’d finally be free. She could have saved the money she earned and, in her old age, perhaps bought a small house in the county she always talked about. But who would’ve guessed she’d follow him in death?
Uncle Kuang thought Fang Lin was being foolish! What was so great about that sickly man that she’d die for him?
The village chief stroked his beard and suddenly smiled. “Troupe leader, this is a good thing.”
Uncle Kuang’s expression froze in shock, and he stared at the village chief in disbelief. The players were equally stunned.
Someone had died from hanging, and he thought it was a good thing?
Li Zhi sensed that if it weren’t for the village chief’s status, Uncle Kuang might have lunged at him right then and there.
The village chief clapped his hands, praising, “A woman should be loyal in death when her husband dies. This woman was fierce and virtuous—a true lie nu (virtuous woman). Your troupe is fortunate to have produced such a remarkable figure!”
The players: “…?”
What on earth is wrong with you?
Around the stage, villagers who had come to see what was going on heard the village chief’s words and began to chime in with agreement. “So, her husband died? Then it’s only right that she follow him. This woman truly embodies the spirit of our Lie Nu Village.”
“Didn’t they say she was an orphan? Why not bury her here? She was so righteous and full of spirit, even if she wasn’t originally from our village, her memorial tablet is worthy of being placed in the shrine of the fierce women.”
One after another, the villagers praised Fang Lin’s character, leaving the players completely shocked by their nonchalant attitude.
Chi Yi gritted her teeth. “Listening to them makes me want to throw up.”
Everyone’s faces showed anger, and Li Zhi pulled back two players who had clenched their fists, stepping forward with a smile toward the village chief. “Village Chief, could you tell us how this Lie Nu Village got its name?”
The village chief glanced at her, a trace of pride flashing across his face. He tapped his cane on the ground, signaling for silence, and then slowly said, “Of course. The name Lie Nu Village (Village of the Fierce Women) was a gift from the imperial court in recognition of our village, which has produced many fierce and virtuous women throughout history. Back then, the court awarded a memorial arch to Lady Zhen for her chastity, and even funded the construction of the Lie Nu shrine. It was quite the honor! Though the empire has long since fallen and there’s no more court or emperor, it doesn’t stop us from continuing this proud tradition here in our village.”
He glanced at the cold body on the ground, nodding in approval. “Though this woman wasn’t originally from our village, I believe the feng shui of our sacred land must have inspired her to take this virtuous path and follow her husband in death. Such loyalty and chastity deserve a proper burial and a place in the Lie Nu shrine.”
With that, he turned to Uncle Kuang and said, “Troupe leader, since she was an orphan, let her be buried here. Our village will take care of her funeral.”
Uncle Kuang hadn’t expected things to take this turn, but with the woman already dead, there was no point in overthinking it. The village was offering to handle the funeral, saving him time and money. Without hesitation, he quickly responded, “Thank you, Village Chief, for your generosity!”
The village chief nodded in satisfaction and gestured for his men to carry Fang Lin’s body away. He then turned to Uncle Kuang again and said, “In the meantime, stay in the village for a few more days. In five days, we’ll be celebrating a traditional festival here. I’ll sponsor your troupe to perform for the occasion, so everyone can enjoy the festivities.”
The surrounding villagers cheered, “Thank you, Village Chief!”
Uncle Kuang, worried about the future of the troupe without its star performer, was delighted by this unexpected offer. Perking up, he replied, “Of course! Village Chief, let me know what performances the villagers would like to see, and we’ll prepare in advance.”
Meanwhile, the white silk that Fang Lin had used to hang herself still dangled from the beam above.
Sighing, Uncle Kuang gestured for his crew to start cleaning up the stage. The villagers, beaming with joy, carried Fang Lin’s body away. At that moment, the peaceful and seemingly warm village revealed its eerie smile.