Linbiangui Village-Infinite Streaming Chapter 2

The Strange Village Arrives (Revised)

“Kajii—” Mengle Village. The minibus driver wobbled the vehicle to a stop at the Mengle Village Small Station. Everything visible was dilapidated.

The people on the bus began to stir.

Passengers, either carrying or hoisting their luggage, moved forward one by one in an orderly fashion. This wasn’t due to strong courtesy, but because the aisle of the minibus was extremely narrow, allowing only one person to walk at a time, making passage with luggage slightly difficult.

Chen Jin followed Wu Zeng, inching forward. Behind him was a dark-skinned, rough-faced Square-faced Uncle. The uncle was intensely focused on getting home, constantly pushing forward to occupy space, his head craning toward the window, causing misery for the passengers ahead.

“Hey, don’t push…”

“There’s a child in front, you’re squishing the baby.”

“I’m carrying luggage, can’t walk fast…”

“Stop pushing, there’s a crowd ahead, we can’t move quickly.” Wu Zeng’s slightly impatient voice came from the front.

The public outcry was significant, and the noisy complaints finally made the uncle restrain his movements somewhat.

But soon, a Dark, Thin Local Man walked slowly toward the door, waving his hand. The uncle immediately became excited. His belly struck Chen Jin’s back like a stone ball. Under the sustained pressure, Chen Jin was also pushed forward significantly, his chest backpack practically glued to Wu Zeng’s back.

The uncle excitedly muttered the local Mengle Village dialect, spitting saliva: “Tonight we go drink!”

If this were Chen Jin as a child, he would have long since jumped up and cursed. But now, Chen Jin would mostly just frown and glare. If arguing publicly would only draw attention and might not lead to a good outcome, it was better to just endure it.

“Try pushing one more time!” Wu Zeng turned and snapped, slapping the uncle’s shoulder. The immense force made the man stumble backward, and the distance between Chen Jin and the uncle finally returned to normal.

The previously noisy carriage instantly fell silent. The crying baby was stunned, reduced only to whimpering. The driver, who was about to get off, glanced at the situation in the rearview mirror, his motion to open the door slightly paused. The few young people in the back hurriedly retreated, avoiding involvement in the conflict.

“What the hell!” The uncle felt humiliated. He threw his luggage onto the nearby seat, rubbing his sore shoulder blade, ready to explode. He was practically preparing to rush up and fight Wu Zeng. However, when his eyes met Wu Zeng’s gaze, he suddenly froze—the young man stood tall, looking down, his eyes devoid of anger or dissatisfaction. He stared at the uncle expressionlessly, as casually as if looking at a passing, insignificant ant. His right hand rested on the back of the seat, his entire body showing no hint of aggression.

An inexplicable fear arose in the uncle’s heart—he would die. He suddenly backed down. Sweat beaded on his forehead. After a brief, stubborn standoff, the uncle grabbed his luggage and squeezed miserably toward the back seats, causing a chorus of groans from the passengers behind.

“This spot isn’t clean.” Wu Zeng ignored him, instead pointing to an inconspicuous corner of Chen Jin’s backpack. “I’ll help you clean it when we get off.”

His voice was low and gentle, as if the previous harshness had been Chen Jin’s hallucination.

“I’m heading off now!” Sister A Ping smiled, tucking the stray strands of hair behind her ear, and waved goodbye to the two of them before leaving the station. The stray hairs on her forehead were like mischievous rabbits escaping the rules, always randomly falling from her meticulously styled hair.

Only Chen Jin and Wu Zeng remained at the station. The afternoon sun spread across the ground like golden silk.

Chen Jin stared at the cold light emanating from his phone screen. Although the signal was full, the booking page was blank, unable to find any accommodation—this remote mountain village had no searchable lodging.

Chen Jin was a graduate student at Ming University, and this trip was for research on oral ancient texts of ethnic minorities. His advisor had previously conducted an initial investigation in Mengle Village, but the current situation did not match what the advisor had described. Where exactly was the problem?

A few steps away, Wu Zeng poked his head through the minibus window and asked someone in an inconspicuous spot, “Sister, is there anywhere nearby we can stay?”

“Let me see…”

After a while, a rustling sound came from the bus. The Elder Sister who had been terribly carsick earlier slowly descended from the bus, carrying two red plastic buckets. It seemed she had been recovering in her seat for a while.

“Accommodation, huh… No one usually comes to our village. There’s a Guesthouse just ahead, but nowhere else. But you probably won’t be used to staying there.” The Elder Sister pointed toward a yellowish-gray small building outside the station.

“It’s just for a night, thank you!” Wu Zeng bent down, picked up his luggage, thanked the Elder Sister, and strode toward the station exit.

Chen Jin naturally didn’t want to get involved with him and planned to wait until he was gone before making his own arrangements.

“Xiao Jin, let’s go!” Less than ten meters away, Wu Zeng turned back and waved at Chen Jin, acting familiar, as if asking why he hadn’t followed.

Before Chen Jin could voice his refusal, he looked down and realized that the luggage he had placed by his leg had been taken by Wu Zeng as well. Such a large bag was snatched without Chen Jin noticing at all. Had the man cast some kind of spell? How else could he be so oblivious?

“Why are you taking my things without permission!” Chen Jin rushed to catch up.

Wu Zeng pretended not to hear Chen Jin’s shouts, but secretly smiled, observing Chen Jin’s movements out of the corner of his eye. He even slowed his walking pace.

Outside the station was a relatively smooth cement road. There were few shops on either side; most open businesses were motorcycle dealerships. Scattered repair tools were carelessly left at the entrance, and leaked engine oil stained the doorways. Within a hundred steps, the two arrived at the Guesthouse—this building was noticeably grander than its surroundings, likely once representing the local income generators.

“Screech—” The two pushed the door open. The old-fashioned sliding door greeted the visitors with its grating, saw-like sound.

The most eye-catching feature in the Guesthouse lobby was a portrait hung facing due east, clearly displaying three large characters: “The East is Red.” The red background was particularly striking. Ordinary shops usually hung images of Guan Gong or the God of Wealth, making this Guesthouse unusual.

A gaudy wall calendar hung on the adjacent wall. Most of the pages had been torn off, but the year still read 2010, making it quite old. To the left of the lobby stood an old, brown wooden desk. The owner was currently sitting behind it, scrolling on his phone. A wooden water pipe, common in rural areas, rested by his leg, stained and coated with a thick layer of tobacco residue.

It was simple and outdated.

“Hello, boss, do you have rooms?” Wu Zeng walked up to the desk. Seeing that the owner was completely unresponsive to their arrival, he had no choice but to tap the desktop with his knuckles.

“Yes, how long are you staying?” Hearing the non-local accent, the owner finally lifted his eyes from the screen, scrutinizing the two through his scratched reading glasses.

They eventually settled on the top-tier room type here—50 yuan per night.

Perhaps sensing the foul odor of filth on them, the owner adjusted his glasses and said somewhat vaguely, “I need to tell you in advance, the water pressure for showering here isn’t good. Sometimes the showerhead won’t even dispense water. You might have to go to the public bathhouse next door. Is that okay?”

However, the immediate problem was that they had nowhere else to go, so the two had to reluctantly agree.

The owner nodded, pulled out a yellowed, dog-eared registration book, and gestured for them to come over and register. He finally put down his phone—just before the screen went black, Chen Jin saw the owner was browsing a common short video platform, though it seemed several versions out of date and un-updated. The interface was the old version, currently playing a video of alligator snapping turtles being released, the scene oppressive and dull, clearly not something positive.

“401 and 402.” The owner picked up a pen and wrote in the book.

A quick glance showed that the last recorded accommodation information in the register was from 2010—truly ancient history.

“Don’t accommodations need to be connected to the police network? Are you not online yet?”

The owner’s movement paused slightly. His eyes darted around, and he grinned, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. “We are connecting. The next batch will be uniformly installed here.”

Chen Jin followed Wu Zeng’s lead, pulling out the only cash he had and handing it over. There were often news stories about elderly villagers having no trouble using simple apps, but taking online payments could take them half a day. Chen Jin naturally chose the most convenient method.

The sound of a door closing upstairs rang out. The owner put down his phone, shuffled outside, and twisted the valve on the fourth-floor water pipe twice, shutting off the water supply for the entire floor.

Fourth floor. The room was small, with minimal but sufficient furnishings. The window faced the street, offering good ventilation. The bed was not new but clean. A white quilt was folded neatly on the flat sheet, and an old-fashioned, brightly colored rose blanket was draped nearby—it was already June, and summer had arrived in most regions, but Mengle Village was nestled in a mountain hollow, and areas without sunlight inside the house were still cool.

Chen Jin stood by the window, looking out. Few pedestrians were below; only the old man at the motorcycle shop was constantly squatting and busy. Suddenly, a small insect hit Chen Jin’s forehead. A chill instantly ran through his body. He raised his hand to touch the spot where he was hit, but saw no insect, only to realize that his forehead was covered in cold sweat, leaving his head damp.

Plop… The sound of a water drop suddenly echoed, particularly jarring in the silent room.

Chen Jin immediately turned around, his gaze involuntarily falling on the bathroom. The bathroom door was quietly ajar, its interior unseen, but the light inside felt dimly lit. Although Chen Jin felt no anxiety or tension, his heart hammered against his chest like a drumstick. He closed the window and walked toward the bathroom.

Pushing open the half-closed door, he saw there were no windows inside. The walls were covered in dark green tiles, emitting a damp, moss-like, eerie glow. The lighting also seemed very gloomy. He turned the shower switch, and the showerhead let out a wheezing sound like an old woman clearing her throat, but not a single drop of water flowed out.

His high hopes dashed, Chen Jin was annoyed. He now had no choice but to follow the owner’s suggestion and go to the public bathhouse.

He opened his phone. Wu Zeng, whom he had just added, appeared second on his WeChat list. Chen Jin silently blocked him. The Guesthouse had poor soundproofing. If he was careful—paying attention to the movement across the hall and making little noise himself—he could completely avoid interacting with Wu Zeng for the next few days.

Hearing the sound of running water from the adjacent room—whether showering or washing hands—at least Wu Zeng was currently in the bathroom. Chen Jin grabbed his things and headed straight out the door.

The moment the door closed, the showerhead in the bathroom suddenly hissed and sprayed water. Hot steam quickly filled the entire room, and a childish drawing gradually appeared on the glass—it was a simple sketch of a turtle, exactly the same as what Chen Jin had seen in his dream.

“Mint scent, a kindred spirit. It’s rare to find someone with the same preference as me.” Their toiletries were surprisingly identical, finally revealing the source of that familiar mint scent.

Chen Jin didn’t want to get further entangled with him. He gave a perfunctory “Mm,” and walked ahead, trying his best to put distance between them.

Unexpectedly, the moment he stepped out, Chen Jin bumped into Wu Zeng, who was waiting by the door. The other man was grinning foolishly, like a naughty child whose prank had succeeded—he seemed to know that Chen Jin didn’t want to deal with him, and the fact that they now had to walk together, coupled with Chen Jin’s annoyed but restrained expression, greatly amused him.

Wu Zeng laughed and chased after him, even trying to take it a step further by putting his arm around Chen Jin’s shoulder. “My room has no water either. Let’s go to the big bathhouse together!”

Chen Jin frowned, sidestepped to avoid Wu Zeng’s arm, and then quickly walked away, not even bothering to spare Wu Zeng a glance.

“Wait for me!” Wu Zeng hurriedly followed.

The bathhouse was a row of old stone buildings. The green roof tiles were stained with moss from sun exposure, and dark green moss crept out of the cracks in the ancient stone walls. The payment counter was welded with four steel bars in front of the window, looking like a correctional facility. An old man was dozing inside.

“Boss, we want to shower!”

“Hmm? Oh… Ten kuai per person.” The old man slowly woke up, pulled out a stack of banknotes and bath tickets from his pocket, moistened his finger with saliva, and casually counted them, indicating payment before bathing.

“Cash only?” Chen Jin didn’t have any extra cash on him.

“What else did you expect?” The old man frowned impatiently.

“Isn’t this convenient?” Wu Zeng slipped two 10-yuan bills through the window, winking at Chen Jin with a smile. “Exactly 20.”

He used the older version of the ten-yuan banknote. The old man inside picked up the money with his cracked, dark hands, holding it up to the sunlight to examine it repeatedly—small business owners were afraid of being cheated.

Chen Jin had no choice. Getting a shower was the priority now.

After acting so aloof earlier, and now having to borrow money, even Chen Jin, who was skilled at maintaining a cold distance, felt awkward and embarrassed. Chen Jin turned his face away and quietly said thank you, promising to transfer the money via WeChat—under duress, he had to secretly unblock Wu Zeng.

“Oh! Xiao Jin, why are you being so polite with me!” Wu Zeng pulled out his phone and shook it at Chen Jin, signaling that he had received the money.

On the screen, Wu Zeng had sent Chen Jin many messages, but all had been rejected with a red exclamation mark—so this person had known all along that he had been deleted.

“Don’t call me that!” Chen Jin’s face flushed bright red. He could only frown and say sternly.

“I saw it on your phone’s hotspot name, I thought…” Wu Zeng saw Chen Jin looking uncomfortable and about to explode, and immediately raised both hands in surrender. “Alright! I won’t call you that, never again! Chen Jin, please select a cubicle to wash and change.”

The shower cubicles had no windows and were dimly lit inside. Only a light bulb hanging from the ceiling was vaguely visible, looking at first glance like a small head dangling from a beam, causing goosebumps to rise involuntarily on one’s back.

“Snap…” Chen Jin pulled the cord switch by the door. The light bulb flickered twice before stabilizing, and the room finally brightened. Under the dim yellow light, the corners of the ceiling were covered in spiderwebs, with a long-legged, spotted spider resting in the center. The corners of the walls were piled with trash, mostly waste left by previous bathers, with an especially large number of shampoo sachets. All four walls were green, exactly like the bathroom in the Guesthouse.

Was it a custom in this village for bathrooms to be green?

Even though this bathhouse was dirty and messy, it was still better than turning back and dealing with Wu Zeng’s antics. Chen Jin entered the cubicle without looking back.

This was probably the fastest shower Chen Jin had ever taken, barely getting wet.

The steaming water vapor from the bathhouse cubicle escaped through the open door crack, colliding with the cold air at the entrance to create a thin mist. Chen Jin pushed the door open. Wu Zeng was already waiting at the doorway. In the sunlight, his skin was frighteningly pale. His damp, messy hair hung over his forehead, giving him a wet, almost fragile, artistic look.

What a pest!

“Chen Jin, your eyelashes are dripping water!” Wu Zeng suddenly leaned in to examine him. “When you take off your glasses, your eyes practically glow. You’re so handsome…”

Chen Jin couldn’t stand it anymore. He pushed Wu Zeng’s head away, hurriedly pulled his glasses from his pocket, and put them on. The pain of the frame hitting his nose bridge gave him a kind of secret security.

His ears were hot, turning red almost instantly.