Tang Ning slept for a while.
When he woke up two days later, Ji Lianyun had breakfast ready by his bedside. In Tang Ning's still groggy state, Ji Lianyun helped him wash his face, rinse his mouth, and naturally fed him.
Ji Lianyun performed this routine with ease, enjoying it. Tang Ning, still half-asleep, initially thought he was dreaming because he had dreamt similar scenarios before—dreams where Ji Lianyun took care of him all day, except this time there were two Ji Lianyuns.
"What's with the two mouths?" he mumbled.
At that moment, Tang Ning suddenly became alert.
As the spoon touched his lips, Ji Lianyun's voice was calm and gentle as he coaxed, "Come on, open up."
Tang Ning wanted to refuse, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the spoon was in, and the warm liquid filled his mouth—it was sweet and comforting hot porridge, very appetizing.
"You'll have a busy day today," Ji Lianyun said softly. "It's the mourning period for three days, and many guests will need your reception."
Mourning period?
In the real world, friends and family come to mourn in front of the deceased, but this was a game simulation. Would those coming to mourn be mingling with the dead?
"Dong! Dong!" The dull sound of a drum could be heard nearby, breaking the morning silence. Tang Ning's eyelashes fluttered in response to the drumming, and his confused gaze landed on Ji Lianyun's face, still not fully illuminated by the dawn outside the window.
No words were needed; Ji Lianyun understood his confusion.
"This is the mourning drum. Those who come to mourn must knock twice before entering the memorial hall." Ji Lianyun scooped up another spoonful. "Finish your porridge quickly; many people will come today, and as the eldest grandson, you cannot be absent."
Tang Ning quickly ate while picking up his fully charged phone. The group chat was filled with players' messages. There were no casualties reported last night. Han Ankang tagged Tang Ning, asking if the current Ji Lianyun was a ghost or a human.
Tang Ning quickly replied, "I think he's human."
Han Ankang almost instantly responded, "Are you sure?"
Tang Ning suddenly felt unsure again.
Especially when he saw Han Ankang's next message: "Last night when Ji Lianyun saved you, he was tiptoeing."
In that moment, Tang Ning's scalp tingled, and he nervously glanced at Ji Lianyun, forgetting to swallow the porridge in his mouth.
"What's wrong?" Ji Lianyun asked softly.
For a moment, Tang Ning couldn't distinguish whether this was Ji Lianyun or the ghostly groom. The ghostly groom could impersonate Ji Lianyun, but Ji Lianyun shouldn't be able to impersonate the ghostly groom.
If the current Ji Lianyun is indeed the real Ji Lianyun, then what he says should also be true. Ji Lianyun married him for two reasons: one, the fortune teller said he wouldn't die of illness, and two, Ji Lianyun fell in love with him at first sight.
That's why Ji Lianyun wants to be with him.
But what about the ghostly groom?
What does the ghostly groom want from him?
He often feels weak in this simulation, especially when interacting with Ji Lianyun, as if his vitality is being drained away, somewhat like the folklore of ghosts sucking away one's vitality.
Does the ghostly groom want him for his vitality?
Yet, on a day when Ji Lianyun was massaging his feet, he also felt weak.
Is this weakness from soaking his feet, causing drowsiness, or is it the weakness from having his vitality drained by ghosts? If it's the latter, then is Ji Lianyun not human either?
"What are you thinking?" Ji Lianyun reached out and touched Tang Ning's furrowed brow. "You can tell me if there's anything bothering you. Maybe I can help alleviate your worries."
He was so caring and gentle that it made Tang Ning feel close to him, reminding Tang Ning of Mo Yunchu from the past. Mo Yunchu's actions also revealed a sense of strangeness, leaving Tang Ning unable to figure him out.
Tang Ning looked at Ji Lianyun seriously. "Would you lie to me?"
"Why would I lie to you?" Ji Lianyun asked.
He sounded sincere.
But even if he was lying, Tang Ning couldn't refute him.
Tang Ning took Ji Lianyun's hand and placed it on his left chest, looking timidly at the slightly puzzled Ji Lianyun. "If you lie to me, my heart will ache."
The fingertips on his chest trembled slightly.
Ji Lianyun's expression showed no apparent change, or perhaps there was, but Tang Ning couldn't discern it. Tang Ning didn't want to speculate anymore. He asked earnestly, "Ji Lianyun, why were you tiptoeing last night?"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The tiny drumbeats of his heart reverberated through his fingertips to Ji Lianyun's, who lowered his gaze to Tang Ning. "I'm not sure either."
"When I opened my eyes, I only saw you. I wanted to get closer to see you. Although I am aware, at that moment—" Ji Lianyun paused for a moment, explaining delicately, "it was like the self in a dream, where actions may deviate slightly from reality. I was in that state at the time."
"It wasn't until I saved you that I woke up as if from a deep slumber."
Is that so?
Tang Ning and Ji Lianyun locked eyes. The rhythmic drumbeats echoed once again, indicating new mourners had arrived.
Tang Ning released Ji Lianyun's hand, finished the remaining half-bowl of porridge, and as Ji Lianyun crouched down to help him put on his shoes, Tang Ning picked up his phone and shared what Ji Lianyun had told him in the group.
Han Ankang: "If what Ji Lianyun said is true, then the one who saved you might very well be the ghostly groom."
Lin Yun: "We need to quickly determine who has more control over the ghosts, because we're going to attempt the funeral tomorrow, which is the biggest crisis in this simulation."
Tang Ning put down his phone and walked out of the room with Ji Lianyun. He saw many people moving around at the entrance of the memorial hall. Some of the NPCs looked familiar to Tang Ning, some were villagers who helped set up the memorial hall when Tang Hengxian and Han Yunian were hanged, and a few...
Huh? Aren't these villagers from Ji's village?
They solemnly knocked the mourning drum, behaving no differently from the other mourners, even more ceremonious, holding pig heads and geese as offerings.
Tang Ning found it strange to see them like this.
Since Ji's village had lost its livestock a long time ago, it seemed unlikely that the freshly slaughtered pig heads and geese were from their village. Did they purchase them from elsewhere?
Tang Ning watched as these people entered the memorial hall. As soon as they stepped in, like other guests, they stood before Grandpa Tang's coffin, paying their respects. It seemed they were genuinely here to mourn.
The mournful cries echoed throughout the memorial hall. It was a village custom to mourn on the day before the funeral; once mourned, there would be no more crying on the day of the funeral.
In the entire hall, mourners and players alike wept. Among them, Tang Ning was the one who had the most reason to cry.
As Tang Xianheng's only grandson, he couldn't afford to be absent in such circumstances.
Amid the urging looks from other players, Tang Ning entered the memorial hall. The central cushion was reserved for him, and he knelt before it.
Ji Lianyun was also in the hall, but he didn't kneel beside Tang Ning, as Tang Ning requested. Yesterday, when he kneeled to burn incense, it burned unusually fast. Since there were no incense sticks today, any scent emitted from Ji Lianyun's kneeling might affect the players. Therefore, as a precaution, Ji Lianyun stood in the same manner as the other mourners, next to Tang Ning.
The wailing echoed throughout the hall, with men and women, old and young, all mourning. Tang Ning was usually the one who cried the most, but his tears were usually silent, rarely sobbing loudly. He couldn't force himself to cry without genuine emotions. If he had that ability, his acting skills wouldn't be criticized.
He felt the intense gaze from everyone around him, as if they were wondering why he wasn't crying yet.
Tang Ning looked at the photograph of the old man on the memorial table, and he bit his tongue. The sudden pain made him tear up instantly. His weak sobs merged into the collective mourning cries.
Perhaps because Tang Ning cried too softly, that feeling of being watched persisted.
Tang Ning tried to increase the volume of his crying. He tried to think of sad things, but he found that he didn't need to recall them; there were plenty of things around him that made him sad. It was easy to indulge in sadness. He cried louder and louder. It was said that the filial ones should cry the loudest, and Tang Ning was already trying his best. After crying for a while, when his tears were almost dried up and his voice was hoarse, the room still echoed with the deafening cries of the other mourners.
Tang Ning stopped not because he was tired of crying, but because he suddenly realized—
No matter how much air one had in their lungs, one couldn't cry continuously without taking a breath.
However, there were guests who cried without pause, their cries loud and piercing, as if they couldn't cry out all their grief. Although Tang Ning knelt with his back to the crowd, he could still distinguish roughly where the cries were coming from—
It seemed to be the people from Ji's village who were wailing loudly.
Were they deeply attached to Tang Xianheng? Was that why they cried so heartbreakingly? Or was it...
A chilling sensation crept up Tang Ning's spine along with the incessant cries. Tang Ning knelt stiffly on the cushion, his ears assaulted by the loud, sorrowful, and eerie cries.
Tang Ning cautiously tilted his head slightly, the movement subtle, his head not turning much, but his eyes desperately trying to focus in a certain direction. It was strenuous to look this way; his eyes strained to the utmost to barely catch a glimpse of the person's face.
Through his tear-blurred vision, Tang Ning struggled to make out the face of the person. It was a villager from Ji's village, staring straight at the photograph on the memorial table, with a somewhat sorrowful expression, mouth closed, not emitting any cries.
It wasn't this person who was crying.
Tang Ning's tense body relaxed slightly. Regardless, the fact that someone nearby seemed okay provided him with a bit of reassurance.
So, was it someone else from this person's group who was crying?
Tang Ning turned his head slightly again, wanting to see what the people from Ji's village looked like. But he knew he probably couldn't see them, as he was kneeling and they were standing taller, obscured by the other guests in front.
Just as Tang Ning was thinking this, he locked eyes with a weeping head.
This person's head was at the same level as Tang Ning, who was kneeling on the cushion.
Not because the person was also kneeling on a cushion like Tang Ning.
But because this weeping head was being held in someone's hand!
Tang Ning's eyes widened suddenly. The head, under his gaze, abruptly stopped crying, and a sinister smile spread across its face. It asked Tang Ning, "Why aren't you crying anymore?"