Chapter 222: Back from the Dead

Zhao Sifang looked conflicted.

He had originally planned to send Liu Dazhi back to the safe zone and then return to hunt gods.

But now, Liu Dazhi had left his things with him, making it impossible for him to leave immediately.

Although he was warm-hearted, he wasn't the type to disregard himself for others.

"Liu Dazhi, you left your bag with me. Does that mean I have to follow you around now? You've already entered the safe zone—can't you handle the rest yourself?"

Qin Siyang smiled at Zhao Sifang again, "Brother Zhao, don't worry. I'll definitely give you a satisfying answer soon. Your whole family will thank you!"

"I'll thank you on behalf of my family first. Liu Dazhi, we just met on the road, and I kindly brought you back. You can't pin this on me…"

Qin Siyang didn't explain and walked into the gates of the safe zone.

Zhao Sifang felt helpless.

He wanted to just throw Qin Siyang's bag on the ground.

But his upbringing wouldn't allow him to do such a thing, so he had no choice but to follow.

As soon as he entered the safe zone, Qin Siyang was hit by a pungent mix of incense and burnt ash.

Looking closer, 'Oh, damn. A whole group of people are burning incense and offering paper money… for me?'

And it was a grand scene.

Normally, people burned paper in small fire pits.

But there were so many people burning paper for Qin Siyang that they had customized a fire pit as big as two bathtubs.

A crowd surrounded it, crying and wailing as they burned the paper.

Some wore church robes, some wore school uniforms, some wore United Government uniforms, and others wore military camouflage.

There were people with black eyes and yellow skin, golden-haired and blue-eyed, dark-skinned with tight curls, and brown-skinned with red hair.

Different organizations, different ethnicities—same mourning.

All of them had tears streaming down their faces, crying like their hearts were breaking.

Even though Zhao Sifang had already seen this bizarre scene before leaving the safe zone in the morning, he still stared in shock.

Qin Siyang, watching from a distance, was amazed.

If an outsider saw this, they'd think a United Government leader had died.

Behind the crowd, several cameras were recording close-up shots of everything.

Qin Siyang didn't know whether they were documenting the tragic moments of their lives or using this footage for negotiations at the bargaining table later.

Moving forward, he saw his own memorial tablet and was even more stunned.

'That isn't a tablet.'

'That is a damn stone monument.'

'Since when are memorial tablets two or three meters tall?'

The tablet stood in a temporary mourning hall, with an altar full of offerings in front of it.

Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, Squirrel Fish, Sanbuzhan, Nine-Turn Intestines, Three-Set Duck, Eight-Treasure Soup.

Qin Siyang was furious.

Tears of frustration trickled down his face.

'When I was alive, I never got to eat such good food! Now that I am dead, they brought it out?'

'What the hell—so being dead is more useful than being alive?'

Behind the offerings and incense burner, there was a black-and-white photo of Qin Siyang, taken from his Godslayer Camp account profile picture.

Qin Siyang looked at his own photo with dissatisfaction.

His hair was messy, his clothes were pilling. It looked cheap no matter how he saw it.

"This picture is terrible. I need to change it when I get the chance."

Behind the stone monument-like memorial tablet, a luxurious coffin rested. Lacquered wood with intricate carvings, deep-colored and heavy, clearly expensive.

It was probably meant to hold either his clothing or personal belongings.

In front of the memorial, people continued to come and offer incense.

Li Tianming and Zhang Kuang stood to the side.

Zhang Kuang was hunched over his phone, frowning as if dealing with something tricky.

Li Tianming, on the other hand, was staring blankly at the stone monument.

His hair was a mess, like a tuft of grass growing on a smooth river stone.

His expression looked exhausted.

His hands were in his pockets, silent, lost in thought.

After a long while, Li Tianming finally sighed.

Though he wasn't crying, Qin Siyang knew, Li Tianming was probably the only one here who truly mourned his "death."

Zhao Sifang spoke up, "Liu Dazhi, you've been standing here forever. What exactly are you doing? If you're not saying anything, I'm leaving… Hey, Liu Dazhi, why do you look a bit like that Qin Siyang in the photo?"

Qin Siyang chuckled, "Brother Zhao, you've offered him incense. You must've paid respects to his remains. When you saw me outside the safe zone, didn't you notice how much I looked like Qin Siyang?"

Zhao Sifang never considered that the "Liu Dazhi" in front of him was actually Qin Siyang. He replied impatiently, "I didn't even know him. Why would I go look at his body? I just lit some incense and left."

"True. No connection—why take it so seriously?"

Qin Siyang grinned at Zhao Sifang, "Brother Zhao, hold onto my stuff for now, and don't tell anyone."

"Huh? What are you up to?"

"I'm about to put on a great show."

Then, wearing nothing but his lower coverings, Qin Siyang swaggered toward his own memorial tablet.

He had barely taken a few steps before someone stopped him, "Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? If you wanna offer incense, get in line!"

"I need to get in line to offer incense for myself?"

"For yoursel—"

The man stared at Qin Siyang, then looked at the black-and-white photo in front of the tablet, then back at Qin Siyang, then back at the photo.

His head snapped back and forth, completely speechless.

Qin Siyang walked straight past the long line.

Someone finally noticed that his face was identical to the one in the memorial photo.

A voice shouted, "Qin Siyang isn't dead?"

Everyone froze.

Countless eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what they were seeing.

Under their stunned gazes, Qin Siyang walked right up to his own tablet.

Zhang Kuang, who was busy texting, and Zhao Longfei, who was arranging the funeral, also turned and stared in disbelief.

Li Tianming's eyes widened as Qin Siyang approached.

"Qin Siyang? You're not dead?"

Qin Siyang grinned, "Sorry to disappoint you. Still alive."

"Where the hell have you been these days? How did you survive?"

"I'll explain later. Right now, there's something more important to do."

"What's more important than your funeral…?"

Qin Siyang pointed at the crimson crystal on the altar.

"This thing—it's mine, right?"

"Uh… yes."

"Great."

Qin Siyang picked up the crimson crystal, turning it over in his hands.

After examining it multiple times, he confirmed—it was identical to the crystals in his bag.

The corners of his lips curled up.

Jackpot.

Meanwhile, in the distance, Zhao Sifang, who had been staring in shock at the entire scene, was internally freaking out.

He was dumbfounded.

So that "troublemaker" he had been cursing all the way… was right in front of him?

Had he just been cussing someone to their face without realizing it?

Only the most uncivilized people did that.

And yet, he prided himself on being raised properly.

…This was beyond awkward.

Oh well.

Since Qin Siyang was supposed to enroll at South Glory University and had some ties with his second uncle, bringing him back was still a good deed for the family.

But suddenly, Zhao Sifang's brow furrowed.

'If this guy is Qin Siyang…'

'Then what the hell is in the bag he brought back from outside the safe zone?'

Curiosity got the best of him. Zhao Sifang quietly unzipped the bag.

"HOLY SH*T!!!"

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