Just now, after Jiang Yan supervised the last calf finishing the final cub, nine clue slips appeared in the room, signifying that nine people had successfully graduated from the cattle-rearing class.
Among them were Granny Zhuang and Uncle Wang.
A light rain was falling from the sky. Shen Xiaoxiao dashed through the drizzle to ask Jiang Yan, “Sister Jiang Yan, what took you so long?”
“We were so worried!”
Jiang Yan explained, “These cows won’t chew. They swallow all their food whole, so they won’t eat any cubs that are too large.”
“It just took a bit more time.”
Shen Huanhuan asked anxiously, “So, what did you…”
Jiang Yan replied carelessly, “Nothing. I just gave them a lesson.”
Yu Renwan asked curiously, “How did you do that?”
Jiang Yan didn’t want to answer. She retreated into the main building, closing her umbrella—a public item marked on the rack as free for anyone to borrow—so Jiang Yan felt no burden in using it.
Many psychics newly entering the livestream were anxious, repeatedly asking what they had just missed.
Livestream chat: [Hahahahaha]
[It was just Sister Yan applying her knowledge, PUA-ing the strong cow, telling it only she could love a cow without chewing muscles and that it would never again win the devoted adoration of other believers.]
[That face on the strong cow, hahahaha. Even though it was totally blank, I could still sense its terror.]
[Strong cow: Very concerned, totally crushed. What are chewing muscles? Why don’t I have these?]
[Jiang Yan: Here, let me teach you how to exercise your facial muscles.]
[Just thinking back to Sister Yan’s earnest and persuasive tone makes me laugh.]
[Those little calves are so naïve and simple—]
Though it all looked easy enough, every bit of simplicity was built upon having deduced the graduation criteria for the cattle-rearing class and obtaining the Teacher’s Code.
What’s more, feeding the calves was by no means an easy matter. All the calves had shown intense resistance toward the chickens and lambs raised by Uncle Wang. With limited feeding time, and Jiang Yan unable, as a ‘believer,’ to force feed them, in the end, she had to catch the strong cow’s appetite, using its preferences to trick it.
In order to teach the strong cow how to chew, Jiang Yan even picked up a clean stalk of straw and put it in her mouth to demonstrate. And whether by coincidence or not, just as she was earnestly demonstrating, the calves suddenly grew one or two eyes all together, rapidly sprouting a third; Jiang Yan then spent quite a while singing to help them recover.
All in all, the process was very tense, far less smooth than it appeared.
But Jiang Yan said no more. After returning the black umbrella to the rack, she led everyone up to the fifth floor. The main building served for teaching, offices, and accommodations—a floor that housed both offices and student dorms.
Lan Lin flicked her chin-length hair, the deep blue now so thoroughly soaked through on leaving the cowshed that, once inside, all the hair on her forehead clung to her face, making her look rather bedraggled.
She approached Jiang Yan.
“Thank you.”
“When we get out, our team will hand over all the rewards to you.”
Jiang Yan never refused such windfalls, so she nodded. “Alright.”
Lan Lin smiled.
She, too, had a question: “How did you actually get those cubs fed to the calves?”
As the caretakers, they couldn’t kill the chicks or lambs themselves, nor could they force the calves to eat. That meant they couldn’t just force the cubs into the calves’ mouths. So Lan Lin was quite curious.
Jiang Yan: “That didn’t require my help.”
“Once those cubs realized they could die at last, they all leapt into the calves’ mouths of their own accord, so eager that I couldn’t have stopped them if I wanted to.”
Eavesdropping, Shen Xiaoxiao couldn’t suppress her laughter. The mood lightened, and the others all broke into laughter as well.
That laugh seemed to bring everyone closer together.
“Let’s go,” Jiang Yan said.
On the fifth floor, since Uncle Wang and Zhang Du were both male and thus didn’t fit the ‘girls’ school’ criteria, but had still passed the cattle-rearing class, the spirit behind it couldn’t kill them for their gender. So they were assigned a separate dorm.
Their names were posted on the dormitory door.
Zhang Du was the first to push open the door. After checking the room and finding no rules posted, he opened the wardrobe.
No rules in there, either.
But there, clear as day, hung two girls’ school uniforms—obviously meant for them, judging by their oversized cut.
Uncle Wang held up the black skirt, comparing it to himself. “My daughter’s the only one who ever wore something like this… I’ll be fifty soon…”
Zhang Du, on the other hand, accepted it readily. At one-meter-seventy-four, lean and fair-skinned, he picked up the uniform and headed for the bathroom.
A moment later, he emerged holding up the skirt, spinning in a circle. “Well?”
He posed in the mirror, then said regretfully, “Feels like something’s missing…”
Yu Renwan hesitated: “…A wig?”
Zhang Du slapped his forehead. “You’re right.”
Shen Xiaoxiao stared, speechless.
Mint Candy whispered in her ear, “His college roommate was really into cross-dressing. He saw it so often, he got the itch himself, told me and Sister Lan several times he wanted to try—and here’s his chance!”
“Don’t let his usual reticence fool you—once you get to know him, he’s quite outrageous.”
Shen Xiaoxiao felt as though she’d just learned something new.
Uncle Wang, for his part, had never in his life worn a skirt or even wanted to. He stood before the mirror with it, put it down, picked it up again, hesitated for ages, and finally, gritting his teeth, said, “I’ll give it some thought—tomorrow, I’ll wear it for sure.”
In fact, there were no rules posted in the room, and the loudspeaker hadn’t said anything about putting on the uniform immediately.
Really, it was just that Zhang Du was too eager.
Granny Zhuang teased Uncle Wang, “How old are you, still fussing over this? Clothes are just cloth—nothing shameful in wearing any of it!”
Uncle Wang grinned, a bit embarrassed. “Haha, well, it’s not like I’ve ever tried one in half my life.”
After taking a look around, Jiang Yan found nothing worthy of note in the room and stepped out, with the others following in turn.
Uncle Wang also meant to leave, but was stopped by Shen Huanhuan.
“You’ve worked so hard these last days, please, rest up for now.”
An ordinary man who had ended up here by mistake, he had been here three days already, looking visibly exhausted. When Shen Huanhuan spoke, Zhang Du looked to Lan Lin.
At her nod, Zhang Du withdrew his foot from the threshold. “Then I’ll stay with Uncle Wang, and fill him in on our situation.”
Seeing the two had no intention of exploring further, Jiang Yan pulled out the nine clue slips she’d just received.
“These are everyone’s clearing rewards.”
“Let’s all take a look.”
Because the slips were collected by Jiang Yan herself, no one had thought to ask for them, but now that Jiang Yan brought them out, Mint Candy scratched her head, a little embarrassed.
“It feels like we’re troubling you for everything…”
Jiang Yan: “It doesn’t matter. I have to clear the stage too.”
“These slips contain pieces of Taoyuan Village’s history. Each one has just a few sentences—you have to put them together for the full picture.”
As she spoke, she laid them in order on the table beside the door.
Everyone leaned in to take a look.
The slips were written in fine calligraphy, signed by Zhou Xiahua.
On the first slip, she wrote:
“The name Taoyuan Village comes from ‘The Peach Blossom Spring.’ It was about five hundred years ago, in a time of chaos; people were starving and displaced. The Cow Immortal, to protect us, moved our village to a scenic and pristine land—a true earthly paradise, where we wanted for nothing. Our ancestors were so grateful they wept with joy, vowing to worship our patron deity for generations to come.”
Then the second slip:
“But no one can remain in one place forever without growing weary. After two hundred years in paradise, some among us wished to climb over the mountains surrounding our home, but beyond every peak lay yet another. Someone took supplies and climbed for two whole months, drinking from mountain streams and eating wild fruits. Yet after crossing the final peak, he found himself back at our village.”
The third slip:
“It was then that our ancestors realized none of us could ever leave. Outsiders could not enter; insiders could not escape. Thus the headman renamed the village ‘Taoyuan.’”
The following slips were all tightly focused.
Zhou Xiahua spoke of the villagers’ mindset:
“Still, none of us resented this. Without the Cow Immortal, our ancestors would have perished for certain, let alone have descendants. So everyone offered up their worship willingly. But in their prayers, they began to ask the Cow Immortal: Could it still hear them? Where had it gone? Why did it never reply?”
“Every New Year’s Eve in the past, the Cow Immortal would answer. It brought us food, sweet springs, taught us to heal wounds and teach children. But after we arrived in Taoyuan Village, the Cow Immortal disappeared…and for four hundred years, it never returned—we lost our patron deity.”
“Until a hundred years ago, one day we sensed something. We heard the Cow Immortal’s voice again. The elders said it was calling from the other side of the mountain, inside a pitch-black cave, issuing a call of helpless agony.”
“The headman consulted his books: sacrifice could ease the Cow Immortal’s suffering. Our ancestors had been saved by the Cow Immortal, and now it was time to repay that debt. The village shaman said sacrifices were always girls. Owing to the Cow Immortal’s care, every family here bore twins—one boy, one girl. The Cow Immortal must have intended it that way; the girls were to heal the immortal, the boys so each villager would have a son to rely on in old age.”
“And so seven girls set out, bound to a boat and sent down the river. Soon, the wailing from the cave ceased, but the girls never came back.”
“In the years that followed, every eighteen years, the Cow Immortal would cry out, and seven girls were chosen by lot to enter the Wuhai Girls’ School. There they would attend to mind and spirit, learn poetry and painting, cultivate grace and virtue, and at last become a delicious sacrificial offering.”
The last slip was double-sided.
After reading, Jiang Yan turned it over.
In beautiful calligraphy, one line brought a close to this history.
“And I, Zhou Xiahua, am one of the girls chosen this year.”
*
After reading, all fell silent and deep in thought.
For an outsider, one issue in the slips stood out: Did the Cow Immortal ever really require such sacrifices?
It had never asked for them—but because the headman and shaman suggested it, seven girls were sent to their deaths; judging from the wailing’s cessation, they deemed the method effective and made it customary.
But did the Cow Immortal truly need those offerings?
As such a revered patron deity, even if it needed tribute to survive, would that really be its own will?
Of course, such questions were not so important in the context of the sacrifice itself.
Judging by the cattle-rearing class, the spirit’s hatred was focused on “the village boys and the parents who sacrificed her.” Little hatred, in fact, was directed at the Cow Immortal.
Thus, to locate the “spirit’s obsession,” more attention had to be paid to the life of this spirit.
Lan Lin pointed at the last line, “Given that, the spirit must be Zhou Xiahua.”
As the slips were narrated in first person, and with most clues revolving around Zhou Xiahua, Jiang Yan saw no reason to object.
Everyone fell silent a while longer; Zhang Du and Uncle Wang returned to their dorm, and the others went to find theirs.
With everyone’s name already posted on their doors, it was easy to find their own rooms.
On the fifth-floor landing, Jiang Yan glanced up and spotted her name.
[Room 508]
[Zhou Xiahua / Yun Mingyue / Yun Fanxing / Yu Renwan / Jiang Yan]
Shen Xiaoxiao stuck out her tongue. “Sister Jiang Yan, your name really stands out in there.”
“Doesn’t quite fit the style.”
Jiang Yan shot her a look, and Shen Xiaoxiao quickly threw a hand over her mouth.
Shen Huanhuan looked at the list and spoke softly, “Yun Mingyue and Yun Fanxing… seem like cousins?”
Jiang Yan: “Probably.”
The twins soon found their own dorm—it was next to Jiang Yan’s.
[Room 509]
[Wu Mei / Xu Xing / Shen Huanhuan / Shen Xiaoxiao]
Dorms ranged from two to five beds; Granny Zhuang and Lan Lin shared a room, while Mint Candy had only local students for roommates, standing woefully alone in the hall, hesitant to go in.
By half past nine, cheerful or quiet laughter drifted from the girls’ dorms.
Jiang Yan found no trace of any “Dormitory Code” posted outside or nearby, so wasted no more time and knocked directly.
The conversation inside immediately ceased.
In a moment, footsteps scurried over, and a girl with a single ponytail whipped the door open.
Her face was bright with energy.
“Welcome, new roommates!”
She wore coarse pajamas and had a delicate face, her hair pulled high so her entire forehead shone clear, making her look spirited.
She stood on tiptoe to peer around Jiang Yan. “Why such light luggage? Have you been bullied?”
“No worries, I have plenty. Call me Sister Hua, I’ll look after you!”
Just then, a disdainful voice interjected, “Zhou Xiahua, whether it’s Sister Zhou or Sister Xia, they sound better than Sister Hua. Is your sense of taste dog food?”
Zhou Xiahua spun around and glared at Yun Mingyue.
Yun Mingyue, legs crossed on her bunk, clearly didn’t get along with Zhou Xiahua.
In a moment, Zhou Xiahua shot back with a cold smile: “Yeah, well, who named their own dog Sister Hua, anyway?”
Yun Mingyue: “…”
Jiang Yan glanced over. Judging by Yun Mingyue’s clothes and manner, she had the best background here; the pride on her face brooked no denial. Before she was drawn by lot, she must have been pampered for over a decade.
But neither of them quarreled in front of Jiang Yan. Zhou Xiahua quickly led her and Yu Renwan to a wardrobe.
“This is your locker. You enrolled so suddenly we just cleared it out for you. It might still smell a bit; let it air out a few days.”
Yu Renwan asked softly, “Why does it smell?”
Zhou Xiahua blushed. “No one uses it, and we’re too lazy to wash our shoes so we’ve kept them in there. It’s been rainy lately, so it must have gotten musty—”
[Pfft.]
[Hahahaha, Zhou Xiahua is kind of adorable.]
[Adorable or not, she might just be the spirit.]
If she hadn’t explained, Jiang Yan might not have hesitated, but now she paused before setting her bag down.
Even more embarrassed, Zhou Xiahua quickly fished out sheets of paper from under her bed. “I didn’t have time earlier—let me line the locker for you, so it’ll be clean.”
She got right to work. Just then, Yun Fanxing, who’d remained silent, sat up on her bed.
She’d spent the whole time lying with her back to the door, so until now Jiang Yan had sensed only her deep apathy and pain, and hadn’t seen her face.
Now, as she climbed down, her pallid face came fully into view.
She looked extremely unwell, beads of cold sweat standing out on her forehead; slowly, she made her way to Zhou Xiahua, crouched, and picked up the paper. “Let me help…”
Yun Fanxing was very short, her limbs thin to the point of frailty, and she seemed to run out of breath with every phrase.
It reminded Jiang Yan of the one clue about Yun Fanxing she had found so far:
[Our teacher was always best at empathizing with animals.]
And, following that note, Zhou Xiahua had written: [Fanxing, sweetheart, take it easy.]
The two should have once been very close.
But now, that friendship was clearly gone.
For as soon as Yun Fanxing spoke, Zhou Xiahua’s eyes flickered instantly with disgust.
Just moments ago, she’d been so exuberant, but now her gaze overflowed with disappointment and loathing.
She yanked the paper out of Yun Fanxing’s hands.
“Tear—”
The sound of ripping paper was sharp and jarring.
Yun Fanxing’s hand froze in midair.
Zhou Xiahua stretched out a hand as if to shove her away, but thought better of it and drew back.
“Stay away from me.”
She continued to carefully line Jiang Yan’s locker.
“I despise traitors most of all.”