You said you were going to make games, how did you become the richest man without doing anything?

Chapter 614

There was a commotion in the venue, and low whispers surged in the air like an undercurrent. Tang Yin could clearly hear those tiny but harsh sounds.

"What was he thinking about?"

"The person who will be hanged has already been decided."

These sounds rose and fell, like countless fine needles piercing Tang Yin's eardrums. His fingers involuntarily clenched the corners of his clothes, his fingertips turning slightly white. He knew that the moment he cast his vote, all the gazes would become more complicated, even revealing undisguised hostility.

This approach was very subtle, or in other words, it was a case of "killing one thousand enemies" while injuring eight hundred of his own. Tang Yin knew that his choice had pushed him to the edge of a cliff.

"When I try to win Zhao Gang's support in the future, maybe I can achieve a surprise victory..."

This thought flashed through his mind, but was shattered by a stronger sense of uneasiness.

——Damn, will it really work?

He clenched his teeth, his breathing quickened slightly, his heart tugging at a taut string. It was like walking a tightrope, each step hanging on the edge of life and death. But he had a bad feeling—if he voted for someone else, he might not see the sun tomorrow.

"What do you mean, Tang Yin?"

Zhao Gang's voice suddenly rang out, deep and suppressed, but like a thunderclap, it instantly shattered Tang Yin's nerves. He raised his head and his eyes met Zhao Gang's. There was deep anger and doubt in his eyes, like a knife piercing his chest.

At this point, the answer must be made with caution.

Tang Yin took a deep breath and tried to keep his tone calm, even though his heart was already in turmoil: "...I want to protect you."

As soon as these words left his mouth, Zhao Gang's expression froze. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but then anger followed. Intense anger.

"Is it the same as Sister Chen Xiang and Wang Lina? Your reasons." Zhao Gang's voice was low but cold, and every word was like a stone pressing on Tang Yin's shoulders, so heavy that it made people breathless.

"That's all I have to say." Tang Yin said in a low voice, avoiding Zhao Gang's gaze.

"Ah!?" Zhao Gang suddenly raised his voice, his fists clenched so hard that they made a creaking sound, as if he was going to swing at him in the next second.

But Tang Yin knew that saying more was pointless. He needed to make Zhao Gang feel a sense of disharmony about his actions, a lingering confusion, and let these words linger in Zhao Gang's mind. Then, just like that, he would end today's "banquet."

Of course, he was mentally prepared to be beaten by Zhao Gang.

The scene became awkward for a moment. Tang Yin gritted his teeth and remained silent. He could only feel Zhao Gang's gaze burning him like flames.

At this time, Xia Hui spoke coldly, her voice full of determination: "...It's my turn now. There should be no need to explain. I vote for Mother-in-law Rong."

Gao Zhijie's voice then rang out, low and cold, like a death knell for fate: "It's decided."

With these words, everyone stood up, as if driven by some invisible force. However, Tang Yin and Xia Hui were a beat slower. They looked at each other, the heaviness in their hearts almost suffocating them.

The expressions of every resident in Baifeng Village were completely different from before. Their faces showed indifference and numbness, as if they had already accepted some cruel fate.

"Hualu, go get the rope." Gao Zhijie's voice was still cold and ruthless.

"...Yeah." Hua Lu nodded, turned and left, her steps slow but with a suffocating sense of oppression.

Gao Zhijie slowly turned his head, his eyes like frozen frost, and his tone was terrifyingly calm: "Zhao Gang, help Grandma Rong pour some wine."

Zhao Gang's fingers trembled slightly, as if these words had struck him hard in the heart. He looked at Granny Rong, his lips moving a few times before he managed to squeeze out a sound: "... Granny."

Granny Rong raised her head, her eyes gentle, a calmness that comes from someone who has seen through life and death. She smiled softly, her voice a little hoarse but still warm: "...When you were little, you were very disobedient and mischievous."

She seemed to be recalling something, and the fine lines around her eyes relaxed slightly with her smile. "Once you've made up your mind, you won't turn back, no matter how hard you try. But you really are a very kind child... Even now."

Zhao Gang's eyes gradually turned red, his breathing became rapid, and his voice trembled a little: "Grandma, I have always regarded you as my own grandmother..."

His voice was choked, and he could hardly continue speaking, tears falling one by one: "...You are my real family..."

Granny Rong looked at him, the smile on her face not wavering at all, but softening even more: "Don't cry, we will see each other again beside Qian Mingshen."

Her voice was gentle yet firm, like some unquestionable promise. She smiled faintly, lifted her glass, and drank it all in one gulp. The wine slid down the corner of her mouth. She set the glass down and put her hands behind her back, her movements quick and decisive, without hesitation.

"Excuse me," Hualu whispered, stepping forward. She wrapped the rope around Granny Rong's shoulders twice, then tied her hands behind her back. It was minimal restraint, but it was enough. Granny Rong remained motionless, accepting it all calmly, as if it were all part of some ritual.

The atmosphere in the dimly lit assembly hall grew heavier. Emotions surged like a tide: lament, regret, depression, a myriad of complex emotions intertwined, filling every corner. Sobs, groans, trembling throats, and the rustling of clothing rose and fell, weaving a mournful elegy.

Tang Yin stood aside, watching the scene unfold before him, feeling an indescribable chill in his heart. The entire scene resembled a group of kind relatives surrounding an elderly woman who had passed away, bidding her farewell. However, Tang Yin knew full well that this wasn't a farewell, but an execution.

He turned his head to look at Xia Hui. Xia Hui stood there, her lips trembling, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Her eyes were wide open, full of disbelief and faint anger, and she muttered something. Tang Yin seemed to understand her lip language: "You are crazy... crazy..."

To be honest, Tang Yin felt the same way.

……

The team slowly made their way through the thick fog towards the cemetery, their heads bowed and their steps heavy, as if even the air had become thick and viscous, making it hard to breathe.

Someone, unknown, began humming a low ballad. The song was gentle and subdued, as if awakened from an ancient memory. Soon, more people joined in, and the sound echoed in the mist like a faint mournful song from the depths of the earth.

Tang Yin didn't know who had started singing it, nor when it had been passed down. But at that moment, the procession was like an ancient funeral procession, marching slowly but steadily through the misty paths. However, this wasn't a funeral. It was an execution.

Tang Yin had walked this route countless times, cleaning up the mess. A few hundred meters down the road leading to the Divine River Valley, their footsteps were swallowed by the thick fog as the group slowly advanced. A dead silence reigned, the only sound being the damp earth and the gentle rustling of dew-soaked weeds beneath their feet. The deep songs still lingered in his ears, and at some point, Tang Yin and Xia Hui had begun humming along, their voices so soft they were barely audible.

finally reached.

Before me lay a weedy wasteland, where dewdrops clung to the tips of the blades, shimmering faintly. Rough rocks jutted from the ground, like gravestones for those who had passed away from these lands. At the far end of the wasteland, a massive, twisted pine tree stood silently. Even through the thick fog, the outline of its twisting, claw-like branches was clearly visible, like some enormous monster gazing down upon this dead land.

"The Shoudiaosong Cemetery." Wang Lina's voice broke the silence, a subtle awe in her tone. "In a sense, this is the center of our faith."

Tang Yin's gaze fell on the pine tree, and a wave of unease welled up in his heart. He knew that this place was of great significance to the people of Kirigakure, but beyond that, he knew nothing. The only thing he could feel was a deep, nauseating sense of oppression.

The footsteps stopped. The singing stopped. Even the emotion in the air froze.

"Any last words, Grandma Rong?" Gao Zhijie's voice was low and steady, but it was like an invisible hammer, striking at everyone's nerves.

There was no bird song, no wind, only absolute silence. Gao Zhijie quietly carried out his duties, his gaze as cold and hard as a stone.

Granny Rong raised her head, her gaze sweeping across the crowd before her. A bitter smile forced itself upon the corner of her mouth. "...I've never thought of returning from the underworld, and I don't know what it's like there." Her voice trembled slightly, but remained clear. "To be honest, I'm really scared. But this is for the Hidden Mist Village, so there's nothing I can do."

She paused, her eyes fell on Xia Hui, and her tone suddenly became cold: "I will never forgive you, woman!"

This cry of hatred was like a knife, piercing everyone's heart. Tang Yin had never heard Granny Rong speak in such a tone before, and the clear anger made him lose his judgment for a moment.

Xia Hui trembled slightly, her lips moving, but she didn't say anything. She just stood there, as if nailed to the ground. The others seemed to have long been accustomed to this and quietly began to prepare for the final process.

Two men tied a rope to the outstretched branches of the pine, the rope scraping against the branches with a teeth-grinding sound. Another man made a noose, and Gao Zhijie took the rope, slowly walked towards Grandma Rong, and put the noose firmly around her neck.

"See you in the next life." His voice was low, but without a trace of emotion.

"See you in the next life." Grandma Rong responded softly, her tone so calm that it was chilling.

The next second, her frail body was pushed off the cliff. The sound of the rope suddenly tightening was particularly piercing in the silence. Everyone held their breath, and just as the rope stretched straight, a scream echoed from the thick fog below the cliff—the sound was not human, but more like the whimpering of some unknown monster.

Gao Zhijie slowly walked towards the top pine tree, his movements as calm as ever. He took out a sickle and cut the rope without hesitation. As the rope fell, everyone pricked up their ears, but… there was no sound of falling water.

Tang Yin's heart suddenly tightened. Deep within the fog, it seemed as if something beyond their comprehension was slowly awakening.

They returned to the square in silence, the silence lingering like a shadow. Everyone hung their heads, like zombies whose souls had been drained away. They had broken through the bottom line, crossed a boundary from which there was no return. Tang Yin lowered his head, his steps mechanical, and a single thought kept echoing in his mind: Is this what it feels like?
Thick fog still enveloped the Hidden Mist Village, the villagers looming in the mist like an absurd dream. They returned to the cafeteria, where the wooden door creaked hoarsely, breaking the brief silence. The dim light illuminated everyone's weary faces.

Gao Zhijie stood at the door, his eyes sweeping over everyone. His tone was as calm as ever, yet it carried an unquestionable command: "Chen Xiang, go cook."

Mrs. Chen Xiang nodded and replied softly, "Okay."

Gao Zhijie turned and walked out: "I'm going out on patrol."

Zhao Gang sneered, his voice tinged with sarcasm: "Actually, there's nothing dangerous out there, except ourselves."

Gao Zhijie stopped, glanced back at Zhao Gang, and said lightly: "...I will be back when it's time to eat."

Zhao Gang scoffed, turned around and walked out the door, saying as he walked, "Then I'll go back too. I won't die. I've walked that road tens of thousands of times. How could I possibly go wrong?"

He paused, then looked back at Gao Zhijie with a hint of provocation: "If he really dies, it will only be because you shot him."

No one responded to his words, only the sound of his footsteps gradually faded outside the cafeteria. Gao Zhijie's gaze lingered at the door for a moment, then he turned around, as if trying to hide something, and said coldly, "The rest of you stay here."

Tang Yin noticed that Gao Zhijie's expression had wavered for the first time. Although he continued to command everyone with a strong command, a subtle crack had quietly appeared. And what about Zhao Gang? Tang Yin's mind flashed to his image. His innocence had long since vanished, leaving only indifference and alienation.

……

In the kitchen, Tang Yin and Mrs. Chen Xiang chatted quietly while preparing lunch. Chen Xiang's movements were calm and practiced, as if nothing had happened. Her expression was almost eerily calm, but her eyes concealed an elusive complex emotion.

Tang Yin whispered, "...Let's not add meat."

Chen Xiang stopped the knife in her hand, looked up at him, and said lightly but with a hint of unquestionable firmness: "There is no custom of fasting here, so let's do it normally."

Tang Yin was silent for a moment, then nodded. He suddenly had a strange feeling, as if he were conspiring with an accomplice, but he couldn't put his finger on where this feeling came from.

Soon, the meal arrived. A hodgepodge of vegetables, preserved animal meat, and a few bowls of rice—the same familiar cafeteria flavor Tang Yin had. No one refused to eat, even though everyone's face was filled with exhaustion and gloom. However… Tang Yin glanced around the table and noticed someone was missing.

No, there are two missing.

Zhao Gang hadn't returned, and Granny Rong's seat was empty. The two empty seats were like a silent mockery, a reminder of what they had lost. Tang Yin's throat felt like it was clogged, and every mouthful of food he swallowed tasted bitter.

Damn...what's going on with this feeling of disharmony?

Tong Xiaoliang's voice suddenly rang in his ears: "Uncle Tang, Grandma Rong is gone."

Tang Yin raised his head, was stunned for a moment, and then nodded slowly: "...Yes, it's a pity."

Tong Xiaoliang tilted his head and looked at him, a hint of childish cunning flashing in his eyes, but with an unsettling question: "Regret? Actually, you could have protected Granny Rong at that time, right?"

(End of this chapter)