What a long backstory introduction.
Bai Ci thought to herself that compared to Fu Liu's, this backstory introduction was much more substantial.
She could understand that. Fu Liu's was to explain the backstory and help her and Fu Liu reach an agreement.
As for this time, she had to play someone's benevolent soul, so it was only natural to clarify the main soul's past and origins.
Moreover, Ming Yici's past was laid out very clearly, revealing several key details.
For instance, this was a world of gods and ghosts, likely in a Chinese supernatural style.
Or that this Rain's Message NPC probably wasn't an important one.
Or rather, his past shouldn't be too critical. Otherwise, giving it away to Bai Ci for free would be quite unfair to other players.
Even for a solo instance, dumping a massive amount of crucial information right off the bat would be too much of a hand-out.
Aside from marveling at the sheer volume of information, Bai Ci still had one ridiculous thing she wanted to complain about.
She finally realized that it wasn't a male voice inside her body, but rather that the Anomalous Infection had stuffed her into someone else's body.
That was a bit impolite, to say the least.
In a previous instance, a Rain's Message NPC had been stuffed into her body. Now, she was stuffed into an NPC's body. It was a classic case of mutual courtesy.
She had now experienced both perspectives.
Realizing this, Bai Ci finally understood the bizarre physical sensations from earlier.
When she first woke up, complete control over the body belonged to the main soul, Ming Yici. Naturally, if he didn't want her to move, she couldn't.
Bai Ci quietly digested this ridiculous setup, her mindset quickly stabilizing.
Just then, a gentle yet irresistible pull erupted from deep within the vessel, gently pulling her consciousness out of its rigid, confined state.
The red obstructing her vision faded, and her surroundings suddenly became clear. Bai Ci could finally see the environment she was in.
This was an old-fashioned rural temple, not entirely dilapidated or desolate, just very old.
The temple was clean, free of cobwebs and weeds, showing signs of year-round upkeep.
This meant that for hundreds of years, incense offerings had never ceased, even if they weren't particularly bustling.
In the center of the temple stood a tall statue—the very image of Lady Ming worshipped here.
However, the statue's head and upper body were tightly covered by a thick, heavy red cloth, obscuring its true appearance.
Bai Ci quickly realized that the place where she had been confined earlier was inside this very statue.
On the altar in front of the statue stood three burning incense sticks, with thin wisps of blue smoke slowly rising.
Kneeling on a futon in front of the altar was a young man.
The man looked to be in his early twenties, with clean, youthful features and a student-like air—the typical greenhorn who had just entered the workforce and hadn't yet been worn down by society.
At this moment, he was in terrible shape.
He had sliced a deep, long gash into his own left wrist. The tool he used was still in his right hand, stained with blood.
Bright red blood poured out continuously, dripping entirely into the incense burner and mixing with the ashes.
This was the source of the fresh scent of blood Bai Ci had smelled earlier.
The constant blood loss made the young man's already pale face look even more ghostly. His lips had faded to a bloodless gray, and his body swayed slightly, clearly pushed to his absolute limit.
Yet, he stubbornly maintained his kowtowing posture, refusing to make any other movement.
Just then, Bai Ci heard Ming Yici speak again.
“There is only a third of the incense left. If you keep bleeding, you will die here,” he said, his tone carrying undisguised impatience and warning.
Bai Ci's current state was like being bound to a first-person perspective horror game.
She couldn't actively control the body and could only passively receive all of Ming Yici's sensory input and dialogue. The experience was both bizarre and novel.
The young man kneeling on the ground trembled slightly, but he showed no intention of stopping, his voice stubborn and unyielding.
“My senior brother said that the tribute to Lady Ming must be completed. If I fail, not only will I bring shame upon Master, but I will also be expelled from the sect.”
“So, Lady Ming, I will not give up on this tribute ritual.”
Ming Yici let out a low sneer, dripping with mockery, making his amusement turn icy.
“That senior brother of yours is clearly trying to harm you on purpose.”
“I am a grand Ghost Immortal who receives incense offerings from an entire region. My threshold is incredibly high. If establishing a tribute were this easy, countless high-ranking heavenly masters would have come to my door long ago. Why would it fall to a minor character who just started like you?”
“Foolish.”
“As a Ghost Immortal, if this ritual is broken, so be it. I won't take your life. If you stop now, you still have a chance to live.”
“Just don't expect me to save you. You should know exactly what kind of temperament I have since you dared to come here.”
What a talkative Ghost Immortal, Bai Ci thought, slightly irreverently.
Although Ming Yici's tone was harsh, sounding like he was putting the youth down, every word was a genuine warning.
She just didn't know if he was naturally harsh but soft-hearted, or if these discouraging remarks were actually part of the so-called tribute ritual.
The young man didn't reply, as if he had completely thrown caution to the wind.
Waves of dizziness from the excessive blood loss washed over him. His vision gradually blurred, and his body swayed repeatedly.
Seeing that he was on the verge of collapsing, he bit his lip, using the pain to pull back his consciousness. He forced his trembling body to steady itself, letting the blood from his wrist flow continuously, dripping every single drop into the incense burner.
Time slowly ticked away, and the incense gradually burned down.
Almost at the exact second he fell to the ground, the last wisp of blue smoke dispersed.
The young man's body went limp. Unable to hold on any longer, he fell straight forward, his head hitting the bluestone floor in front of the altar with a heavy thud as he lost consciousness.
In the next second, the deep, bone-deep wound on his wrist healed and scabbed over at a speed visible to the naked eye, finally returning to smooth, flat skin.
If not for his deathly pale face, it would have seemed as if that horrific bloodletting had never happened.
“Did... did it succeed?” Bai Ci blurted out, stunned.
As the words left her mouth, she was pleasantly surprised to find that she could finally speak. Her voice sounded no different from her original voice.
Ming Yici's voice responded with a hint of critical indifference, “Barely. The kid just has a tough life.”
Before his voice could fade, his tone shifted. “You woke up at just the right time, though.”
“Since this tribute is complete, the matter of dealing with those old traditionalist heavenly masters is entirely up to you.”
“Those people talk in such a pedantic and rigid manner. Every single one of them is incredibly boring. I can't be bothered to deal with them.”
Bai Ci felt a wave of helplessness and admitted honestly, “I can do it, but there are many concepts I don't understand.”
Ming Yici sounded slightly puzzled. “Your understanding is actually different from mine?”
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