Moonlight spilled across the country path, illuminating the road ahead for the two of them.
Before long, they arrived at a field piled high with stacks of dried hay.
"Why tonight?" Shi Xi's accusatory voice came from behind the haystacks.
The two immediately hid to the side and cautiously moved closer in her direction.
"And whose fault is it that you used 'not feeling well' to reject me the last two times?"
The moment they heard that voice, both of them were startled—because they could clearly tell it belonged to Shi Wenwei.
Hawkeye glanced back at Qian Cangyi and saw that besides shock, there was also a look of grim expectation in his eyes. Lowering his voice, Hawkeye asked, "You already knew?"
"It was just a guess," Qian Cangyi replied coldly. "And I only realized it not long ago. There was no solid evidence." There was no trace of satisfaction on his face at having guessed correctly—only displeasure.
"That's already impressive," Hawkeye nodded.
"Honestly, I'm not interested in this kind of thing at all," Qian Cangyi explained. "It's just that the environment here is special, so I paid a bit more attention. The probability might not be high, but we're inside a film, and in a closed-off mountain village like this. So when something like this actually happens right in front of me, I'm not all that surprised."
"Maybe tomorrow you can try talking to Shi Xi," Hawkeye continued, still analyzing the situation as an observer. "There's a good chance she isn't acting of her own free will. Take this opportunity to learn more about Shi Haimin. The more we understand Yuxi Village, the higher our chances of survival."
"Let's talk about it later," Qian Cangyi said, clearly unwilling to continue the topic.
Behind the haystack, Shi Wenwei pressed both hands on Shi Xi's head. Shi Xi tried to resist, but her movements were hesitant—and in that moment of hesitation, Shi Wenwei's right hand had already slid down along her cheek.
Moonlight fell upon the two of them, black and white interwoven.
Their sounds overlapped, as if composing a melody in praise of primal instinct.
The final two syllables escaped from the throats of the pair at center stage, drawing back the curtain that concealed their sin.
"Let's go. Whatever questions there are, we'll talk about them tomorrow," Hawkeye said, patting Qian Cangyi on the shoulder.
Qian Cangyi nodded. "Mm."
The two of them quickly left the haystacks and returned to their respective rooms.
Meanwhile, the two "protagonists" on the stage continued their exchange in the fields.
Shi Wenwei wrapped his arms around Shi Xi. "So beautiful…"
Shi Xi said nothing. She closed her eyes and endured it in silence.
Lying on his bed, Qian Cangyi still couldn't fall asleep. It wasn't until he heard the sound of Shi Xi pushing open the outer door that sleep finally overwhelmed him.
The next day, the sun blazed brightly.
Noisy sounds poured into his ears. Qian Cangyi opened his eyes, still feeling utterly exhausted. After rubbing his eyes, he climbed out of bed. When he pushed open the door, he found the courtyard empty—the noise was coming from the village chief's house nearby.
At that moment, Hawkeye appeared at the doorway.
"Someone's dead," he said, brief and direct.
"Who? When did they die? Has the scene been sealed off?" Qian Cangyi asked instinctively, firing off three questions in a row.
Hawkeye didn't answer directly. "Come with me." He turned and left, but not before casting an extra glance back at Qian Cangyi.
"What's wrong?" Shi Xi asked. She had appeared behind him at some point.
"Something seems to have happened. I'm going to take a look," Qian Cangyi replied without turning his head.
"Alright. Be careful."
"Mm." With that, Qian Cangyi walked out of the courtyard, without even rinsing his mouth.
Throughout the entire exchange, he never once looked at Shi Xi.
When they reached the village chief's house, the noise inside was much louder. Qian Cangyi stood at the entrance and listened carefully. It didn't sound like arguing—more like people discussing something. Soon, it seemed they had reached a unified conclusion, and people began filing out. Qian Cangyi saw many villagers emerge from the house, anxiety written all over their faces.
Among them, he also spotted Shi Xingyun and Shi Xuezhen—Shi Wenwei's second and third sons—whom he hadn't seen before. But unlike when he'd met Shi Hongye the day before, Qian Cangyi showed no interest whatsoever in speaking to them.
"Let's go. We'll talk while we walk," Hawkeye said as he appeared in front of Qian Cangyi.
The two followed the villagers. Hawkeye and Qian Cangyi deliberately lagged behind, creating space for conversation.
"Based on what I've heard," Hawkeye said, "the two people who died were villagers—a man and a woman. The time of death was likely last night, according to eyewitnesses. And there's another very important detail: when they were found, they had no clothes on at all. Judging from the scene, they were probably doing exactly what we saw last night."
When Hawkeye finished that last sentence, Qian Cangyi raised an eyebrow, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.
"Their names were Shi Le'an and Shi Mengtao," Hawkeye continued. "Shi Le'an was a young man in the village, unmarried. Shi Mengtao was a widow, known for being somewhat flirtatious. Before this incident, their real relationship hadn't been exposed—at least, not to the point where everyone knew."
"Can I ask you a few questions?" Qian Cangyi said, his hands in his pockets.
"Go ahead," Hawkeye nodded.
"What exactly are we supposed to do? And what is the meaning of this place's existence? These two questions keep circling in my head. Every time I try to think about what I should do, they trip me up like stumbling blocks. I feel like a marathon runner who doesn't know where the finish line is—every step I take, I have to look forward, backward, left, and right, afraid that I might be running in the wrong direction." Qian Cangyi spoke rapidly, pouring out everything on his mind in one breath.
After listening, Hawkeye didn't answer immediately. He waited a few seconds.
"I originally planned to tell you after this film was over," he finally said. "But you've performed well, so there's no harm in telling you now. What are we supposed to do? To know that, there's a prerequisite—that we and the other party are at least on equal footing in terms of our level of life. If it's theoretically impossible for us to even understand how they think, then what's the point of knowing? As for the rest, I don't know. The only thing I'm certain of is this: no matter which film we're in, surviving is the most basic requirement."
Hawkeye's words struck Qian Cangyi like a thunderclap.
Unable to understand the other party's thoughts on the level of life itself… The phrase echoed endlessly in Qian Cangyi's mind. If that's really the case, then what kind of existence are we facing?
In the end, he didn't ask the question aloud. Despair showed clearly in his eyes.
"As for the second question," Hawkeye continued, his tone even heavier, "I can't answer it—because I don't know either. I have many hypotheses, but none of them can be verified scientifically. No matter how reasonable they sound, they're nothing more than well-supported guesses. In essence, they're no different from speculation."