IMPORTANT NOTE:
I am officially transferring the novel here. The edited version will continue to be updated here although updates will be slow since I will be starting from the start.
The rain drizzled continuously, and the once-bustling streets were now sparsely populated.
A young girl with fair, soft skin stood on the street, wearing a floral-patterned cotton jacket and holding a red umbrella. Her big, watery eyes curiously observed the passersby.
After a long while, she finally gathered the courage to timidly approach a group of people and spoke softly:
“Excuse me, ma’am, I see a dark shadow on your forehead. Would you like to buy a talisman to ward off bad luck?”
The woman paused, instinctively touched her forehead, and noticed the gray smudge on her fingers. She immediately cursed, “Dammit! I paid for waterproof hairline powder, and it’s failed again!”
Clutching her forehead, she stormed off, grumbling.
Qing Li stood alone on the street, looking pitiful and dejected, clutching her rumbling stomach.
If she didn’t earn money to eat soon, she might starve to death right there.
“Hey, little girl, are you looking for a job?”
A pale-faced man in a suit appeared before Qing Li. His overly polite smile had a subtle eeriness that made people uneasy.
But Qing Li was desperate. Very desperate.
She nodded, her soft voice as sweet as glutinous rice: “May I ask what kind of job it is?”
“It’s a very simple job. Just complete a few easy tasks, and you’ll receive generous rewards,” the man replied with a smile.
“That simple?” Qing Li tilted her head, her twin braids hanging down her chest. Her bright, innocent eyes gleamed with naivety—and perhaps a hint of foolishness.
“Of course. Here’s my card. Our company is just nearby. If you’re interested, you can come over now.”
The man handed her a white card with black ink printing: Lingneng Media Co., Ltd. Vice General Manager—He Wen.
“Alright, but…”
Right on cue, Qing Li’s stomach growled loudly again. Blushing with embarrassment, she whispered, “I haven’t eaten in days. Could you lend me 200 yuan to grab a meal first?”
He Wen smiled. “Of course.”
He pulled two red bills from his wallet and handed them to her without hesitation.
Qing Li’s eyes lit up brighter at the sight of the money. Taking it, she gave the man a sweet yet peculiar response: “Here comes the flying dagger!”
He Wen froze. In the blink of an eye, the seemingly naive girl had bolted several meters away. In another blink, she was completely out of sight.
“…”
A curse hung unspoken on his lips.
Whoever said rural folks were simple and honest deserved a slap or two.
Qing Li found a small noodle shop. After devouring 20 bowls of noodle soup, she had spent every last cent of the 200 yuan.
Before leaving the mountain, her master had advised her: in their line of work, it was acceptable to cheat or swindle occasionally, but the “ill-gotten gains” had to be spent immediately. Otherwise, it would affect their karma.
Then again, her master’s Daoist name was “Lack Virtue.” (Quede 缺德)
And Qing Li’s Daoist name was “No Virtue.” (Wude 无德)
Currently, her master, due to being too lacking in virtue and having too many enemies, was traveling the world (or more accurately, evading those enemies).
Left alone, weak, and pitiful, Qing Li had no choice but to descend the mountain to fend for herself. But she hadn’t expected that earning money would be even harder than cultivating.
“After eating so much, I feel like sleeping. Should I go to KFC or McDonald’s later?”
Qing Li twirled the white business card between her fingers, rubbing it slightly. The black aura that had clung to it vanished completely. With a casual flick, the card spiraled through the air and landed perfectly in a nearby trash can.
As the red light counted down second by second, the green light finally flashed on. Qing Li, with a lazy smile, stepped onto the crosswalk. Around her, pedestrians hurried along with umbrellas in hand, their pace quickening with the increasing drizzle.
Something felt off. Qing Li halted mid-step, and as she looked around, the surrounding scenery began to distort. The towering buildings and rushing passersby started to fade away, dissolving like smoke.
“Welcome, Player #100.”
A cold mechanical voice echoed from all directions, nearly piercing Qing Li’s eardrums.
[So, this is the new #100?]
[Looks so tacky. Ugly and tacky. A total country bumpkin.]
[Is #100 an idiot? Why does she look kind of dumb to me?]
[Oh my gosh, she’s still wearing a floral cotton jacket. Did she rob some ancient landlady’s grave for that antique?]
There were only a handful of viewers in the live stream room.
“Congratulations, you guessed right.”
Qing Li gave a shy smile. In ten seconds, she had already adapted to the situation she found herself in. A glowing screen appeared in her mind, displaying lines of text that bounced across it. She quickly grasped her current environment.
And indeed, the sharp-eyed viewer had been spot on. Her floral cotton jacket was, in fact, something her master had dug out from a coffin.
Her master had said, “When people die, they just turn into a pile of rotten bones. Letting such a pretty cotton jacket go to waste is such a shame.”
Thus, her miserly master had pulled it out of a grave and handed it to her to wear.
Qing Li didn’t pay any further attention to the barrage of comments. Instead, she silently surveyed her surroundings.
The space was entirely enclosed, and five unfamiliar faces, both male and female, were present. They were also studying her with curious, probing eyes.
When they saw Qing Li’s rustic outfit and her timid, pitiful demeanor, a few of them looked at her with visible disdain.
“Another one here to die,” a chubby, round-faced man muttered under his breath.
“Hey, #89, don’t discourage the new girl like that. Can’t you see she’s about to cry?” teased a boy with a roguish but handsome demeanor.
Although #89 was larger in stature, he immediately clammed up after hearing the boy speak.
“#65 is right,” chimed in a girl with a gentle voice and a delicate appearance. “The new girl doesn’t even know the rules yet. Don’t scare her.”
She approached Qing Li and smiled warmly. “Hi, I’m Zhou Ya. You can call me #74.”
She pointed to the electronic watch on her wrist, where the number “74” was clearly displayed.
Qing Li glanced down at her own wrist and found a similar watch. However, hers displayed the number “100.”
100. What a great number.
“Hi, I’m Qing Li,” she said in a voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz, her head slightly lowered. “I’m #100.”
“Don’t be afraid,” Zhou Ya reassured her. “I know you must have a lot of questions right now, but the only thing I can tell you is this: do your best to stay alive.”
She patted Qing Li on the shoulder but didn’t say much more.
In her opinion, this seemingly useless little girl was nothing more than cannon fodder destined to be a throwaway pawn. There was no point in wasting extra words on her.
“Thank you for your advice,” Qing Li replied with a naive smile, looking genuinely grateful.
[What a fool. She’s thanking someone for saying a bunch of useless nonsense.]
[That #74 is the perfect mix of a green tea btch and a white lotus—hypocritical and manipulative.]
[Hey, little village girl, in this place, the higher the number, the weaker you are. I suggest you cling to #65’s thigh for survival. That might give you a chance to live.]
The barrage of comments scrolled rapidly, and Qing Li skimmed through them in her mind.
It seemed that her live stream comments weren’t synchronized with anyone else’s. Everyone had their own independent live stream room with unique viewers.
At that moment, in the previously sealed-off space, crimson blood began to seep from one of the white walls. Startled, Qing Li let out a yelp, “Blood!”
How unsanitary. What if it carried infectious viruses?