Chapter 6: The Gu Village (6)

Chapter 6: The Gu Village (6)

Such supernatural incidents occurring in the village left the Village Elder furious! But after searching the entire village, he found the doors tightly locked, with no signs of any intruders in the house.

As the Village Elder, he naturally possessed the strongest power in the village. If there had been an outside thief, the Gu insects responsible for guarding the home would have torn the intruder limb from limb.

Moreover, he could sense whenever the Gu insects fed, yet there were no traces at all.

The Village Elder’s eyes swirled in dazed confusion: Had his old eyes deceived him? Had he grown so senile that he made a mistake? Had he secretly eaten the food in his dreams and forgotten about it upon waking?

No matter. Sixteen new people had arrived in the village. Originally, the Village Elder had planned to only take a quarter of them for food once they were properly raised, but now he decided to take half.

Times had changed. The barrier between the outer world and the hidden realm had grown much weaker than before. Yesterday’s delivery was the first in nearly a century, but it wouldn’t be the last.

In the future, that bus would frequently bring in more and more fresh ingredients. He would no longer need to laboriously hunt in the mountains. Soon, his home would be stocked with endless dried meat—not tough wild boar jerky, but gourmet human meat.

Even so, the Village Elder cursed the thief who stole from him in his heart: May their heart and lungs fester! May they be devoured alive by swarming Gu insects!

No sooner had he viciously cursed than his left foot tripped over his right, sending him crashing face-first into the ground, eating dirt. He knocked out cold instantly, falling into unconsciousness. As he lay there, his limbs twitched uncontrollably, and foam spilled from his mouth like a bug zapped by lightning.

This was the divine punishment for his great disrespect toward the Gu God. Especially for true devotees like the Village Elder, the more power they derived from the path of Gu sorcery, the more severe the retribution would be.

Meanwhile, Tan Yue, who had also eaten the food—and belched loudly after finishing a large bowl of it—let out a few sneezes.

He didn’t think anyone was talking about him. It must have been because he got drenched in the rain earlier and caught a slight chill.

Rubbing his belly to aid digestion, he asked Guan Shan, "Ah Shan, how do you get hot water for a bath here? Do you still have to boil water in the kitchen? Where’s the shower room in this house?"

The village was quite underdeveloped, with primitive facilities. Cooking was done on a clay stove, lighting relied on candles, and he hadn’t even spotted a single utility pole in the village. It was unlikely they had appliances like washing machines or water heaters.

But it wasn’t a big deal. Having lived in the countryside as a child, Tan Yue wasn’t fussy. Even if it was a bit troublesome, boiling water in a bucket and washing slowly would do just fine.

Guan Shan had no memory of such things. Perhaps due to his contract with Tan Yue, he couldn’t clearly access the latter’s past.

So he summoned his divine awareness, randomly selecting a lucky individual from the same batch of tourists and sifting through their memories to understand the current state of the outside world.

The deity, who hadn’t interacted with the outside world for years, was slightly stunned by modern technology. The world beyond the Gu Village was quite advanced.

But turning this antique-style courtyard into a modern one would be too jarring. Coincidentally, some of the memories he extracted belonged to rich kids who had stayed in luxury ryokan-style hot springs.

Thus, an empty room in the courtyard was transformed into something similar—a shower room with a bamboo shower spout and a bamboo-shaped pipe connected to the kitchen’s channel.

To his surprise, the house even had a dedicated laundry room where clothes could be washed automatically without hand-scrubbing, powered by a Gu-magic-fueled wash cycle.

Tan Yue didn’t see any electrical wires, though. Perhaps the pipes were buried underground and hidden.

Guan Shan thought to himself: Of course there were no wires. The Gu Village’s domain hadn’t unlocked electrical technology. The washing machine was actually modified from aquatic Gu bugs, relying on their Gu-powered scrubbing and spinning.

Even the lamp-like fixtures in the Village Elder’s house had glowing Gu insects inside the lampshades instead of light bulbs.

Just moments ago, Guan Shan had set up a dozen or so of these "lights" throughout the residence.

With these dim lights, even in the pitch-black night, Tan Yue wouldn’t be left fumbling in the dark, unable to see a thing.

Guided by Guan Shan, Tan Yue toured the house where he now lived alone. The clever contraptions between the shower room and the kitchen left his jaw dropped.

By boiling water in a small pot in the kitchen, it could be mixed with cold water to produce warm water, making showers quite convenient.

"This mechanism makes water usage so convenient..." Though his phone had no signal, his phone’s camera still worked fine.

Tan Yue snapped away, taking numerous photos, then leaned his face close to Guan Shan's, making a heart gesture with their faces together.

He said excitedly, "This is a day to remember, Ah Shan. Let’s take a photo together. I’ll print it out and mail it to you later."

In this era, many people take photos with their phones, but only a few are printed as actual keepsakes.

With the sound of the camera shutter, Tan Yue frowned at the album. Maybe it was the lighting; his boyfriend was missing from the shots.

After several attempts, the photos remained blurry, like they had a mosaic filter applied.

Maybe the phone was malfunctioning, unable to capture clear portraits, but he didn’t know how to fix it. "Strange, this phone can’t take proper portraits. But I can draw us instead—framing a drawing would be even better!"

At this moment, Tan Yue was glad he was an art student with great painting skills. Drawing would take time and effort, but it would save the cost of printing photos.

Since there was no cell service in the mountains anyway, painting would be a perfect way to pass the time.

Tan Yue said enthusiastically, "The water's gonna take a while to heat up, so I’ll sketch you first."

He pulled out a folding art board from his luggage, set up the stand in the courtyard, placed a clean sheet of paper on it, and began sketching swiftly.

When painting, he was entirely focused, all his attention fixed on the paper, oblivious to his surroundings.

Guan Shan stood quietly by, watching him work. The blank paper started with a playful outline before details filled in bit by bit.

From childish cartoonish lines to a lifelike portrait, it was like magic was happening on the paper with every blink.

In Guan Shan’s past memories, many worshippers had sculpted or painted him, but those works were nothing like this one—distorted and ugly, all blurred, resembling the statues in the Dragon God Temple.

Tan Yue’s painting was even more beautiful than the reflection Guan Shan saw in his eyes, every stroke overflowing with love, tenderness flowing from the brush.

Unlike photographs, paintings better showed the artist’s emotions.

Tan Yue worked quickly, completing the sketch in one go. For an art student who had easily passed the entrance exams, sketching was no big deal, but he couldn’t resist adding extra details. He sat on the small stool for nearly an hour, his hands smudged with graphite.

"Done," Tan Yue said. "Ah Shan, do you want this painting?"

This was his first painting of Guan Shan, depicting their first meeting at the Dragon God Temple. The background was verdant mountains and clear water. Though a black-and-white pencil sketch, Guan Shan at its core seemed glowing gold.

He was satisfied with it himself but wasn’t sure if his lover would like it. If Guan Shan didn’t want it, he’d frame and preserve it himself.

Guan Shan looked at the painting for what felt like ages before uttering two words: "I like it."

He accepted Tan Yue’s offering but wasn’t about to take it for free. "What do you want?"

Worshippers gave offerings to gods expecting something back—some sought wealth, beauty, talent, fame, or power.

But gods had too many followers to grant every wish. Tan Yue was different. He was his boyfriend. Even if he made excessive requests, Guan Shan would make it happen.

Without hesitation, Tan Yue replied, "You accepting my painting is already more than enough praise for me. I’m happy just with that—how could I ask for more?"

The corners of Guan Shan’s lips curled slightly as he remarked sharply, "Hypocrite."

During their time together, Tan Yue realized Guan Shan’s personality wasn’t what he had imagined.

His first impression had been too perfect—he’d envisioned a perfect lover who was beautiful, gentle, and kind.

But Guan Shan didn’t seem to fit "gentle and kind." He spoke little, and his words could really sting sometimes.

Belatedly, Tan Yue realized Guan Shan hadn’t called him a freeloader earlier—he’d called him an idiot.

But Tan Yue wasn’t hurt by such criticism. In his eyes, Guan Shan was surely someone with a sharp tongue but a soft heart! Otherwise, he wouldn’t have provided food and shelter when Tan Yue dropped by unexpectedly.

Guan Shan had no parents, so he must have endured hardships alone from a very young age.

Tan Yue instantly imagined a pitiful little boy stumbling through life, forced to harden his heart and mask his tenderness with a cold demeanor after seeing the world’s indifference.

He was too busy feeling heartbroken to even think of being angry with Guan Shan.

Though that’s what he thought, in action, Tan Yue pounced on him, draping his arms over Guan Shan’s shoulders and pressing most of his weight against his seemingly slender back. Like a giant, wriggly silkworm, he squirmed cutely twice and whined, “Ah Shan, how could youuu? After all my heartfelt devotion, you just brush me off! Unfair—you owe me!”

Guan Shan let out a light scoff: *What a crafty guy.* Calling it “compensation” was just a roundabout way of demanding repayment. And with just a few words, he’d flipped the script from settling debts to making it seem like Guan Shan owed him instead. “Fine. What do you want?”

Tan Yue’s eyes lit up instantly. “Anything?”

Guan Shan’s retort, delivered in an airy tone, sounded less like criticism and more like flirtation: “So greedy~”

So Tan Yue circled around to face him, plopped down cross-legged, faux-serious, his eyes crinkling as he gazed at his lover. He pointed at the faint dimple by his lips and said, “I’m not greedy—just a teensy kiss right here!”