With questions swirling in his mind, Qiao Zhihui accepted the task and immediately headed to the little garden to investigate. As he left, he couldn’t help but glance back at Xie Shuangxue a few more times.

The main content of the task involved inspecting the skeleton remains. Upon closer examination, he noticed traces of forced enhancement on the bones, signs of some kind of unnatural catalysis. The skull of the Skeleton Ghost General even had faint, strange symbols etched inside it, like it had been controlled by someone.

But Qiao Zhihui wasn’t particularly interested in all that. He quickly fulfilled the task requirements and left, more focused on the rockery that had been pried open nearby.

“Did none of you really see a rock hit me?” he asked sincerely, frowning at his live stream audience. “Someone definitely threw a rock at me, and then I climbed over the wall to check…”

He animatedly mimed what had happened, describing each step in detail.

The chat was flooded with “Really didn’t see it.”

Followed by a wave of “The streamer’s imagining things,” “Not the sharpest tool in the shed, huh?” “Guess you gotta make up for what’s missing in the name,” and “Call me daddy.”

Qiao Zhihui: “…You guys are too much.”

The die-hard fans who had been in the stream from the start insisted they hadn’t seen anything. The camera angle at the time hadn’t been focused in that direction, and the rock that hit him was small and sharp, so no one had caught it on camera. Even Qiao Zhihui himself had rewatched the footage but couldn’t see anything.

He had also checked the surroundings in other instances, noticing that the stone that hit him looked identical to the scattered stones near the wrinkled grass. Each instance had the same arrangement of stones in precisely the same spots.

Everything seemed normal with those few scattered stones on the grass, but he just couldn’t shake the odd feeling. He was certain it hadn’t been an illusion, and he wouldn’t have stumbled upon this hidden boss by sheer luck without those two rocks hitting him.

Qiao Zhihui still didn’t know who was behind it all; he initially thought no one had been there. But it turned out there was someone!

Going back to the garden confirmed the Feather Clan member’s statement. The rockery had a passageway below it, and according to the Feather Clan, Xie Shuangxue had been hiding there.

Only he was there at the time.

…Got it! I understand now!

It was Xie Shuangxue who threw the rock! He did it on purpose to lure me over!

Suddenly, everything became clear for Qiao Zhihui.

But, of course, no one in the live stream believed him.

This time, he wised up. Since no one believed him and he had no evidence, he didn’t make a big fuss. Instead, he quickly finished the task and ran back, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Xie Shuangxue.

This could be a hidden storyline, and he knew better than to blab about it.

He cautiously entertained the thought.

Qiao Zhihui, always quick-witted, understood that to keep his stream popular, he needed unique, eye-catching content. The hidden boss today was fleeting; its popularity wouldn’t last long. But a hidden storyline, one he could explore over time, would continuously attract viewers, maintaining the new audience he’d gained.

No wonder Wubianhai had promoted Xie Shuangxue so heavily during the game’s pre-launch, second in popularity only to the main protagonist pairing. This was the reason!

Thinking he’d uncovered a big secret, the small streamer scurried back to complete the task. From then on, he watched Xie Shuangxue with a mixture of caution and something akin to reverent admiration, as though looking at a major benefactor.

The rescued young man didn’t have any major injuries and hadn’t been taken to a private room. Instead, the Feather Clan had placed him in a quiet corner of the hall. Although players couldn’t get too close, they could still see him.

Curled up there, Xie Shuangxue remained unusually quiet. Feather Clan members were verifying his identity; once confirmed, they handed him clean clothes.

But Xie Shuangxue kept his head down, seemingly dazed. The state of losing one’s family and home explained his somber demeanor.

In truth, Xie Shuangxue was just browsing the forums.

At this stage of the storyline, he was sure he’d successfully altered the plot. Players were eagerly hunting down all available Skeleton Ghosts; not everyone could get to one, making them highly sought-after. Skeleton Ghosts on every instance barely lasted ten minutes, so he no longer needed to worry about them.

Seeing through the game’s multilayered structure, Xie Shuangxue, once vaguely confused by the multi-instance design, now had a better grasp of it after experiencing it firsthand and reviewing player discussions and game screenshots.

From what had just happened, he detected a crucial difference—some changes he made could synchronize across all instances. For instance, the stones Xie Shuangxue threw were visible on the lawn in every instance, as confirmed through the forums.

But other changes didn’t sync.

Actions players performed on NPCs, creatures, or scenes would only alter the single instance they were in, not the others. Every instance had the same Xie Shuangxue and other game characters, but each instance had different players. If Xie Shuangxue killed the Skeleton Ghost, it would alter that part of the storyline across all instances.

Players were the sole unique variable.

From this, he also confirmed that Sea’s authority had expanded. As long as the main system’s logic accepted the rationality and certainty of a plot change, Wubianhai couldn’t interfere. They had adapted this way before.

After all this time, it was clear the game company had adjusted its promotional strategy and accepted this as a fact. During the beta, this power had helped him hide flaws. So long as he wasn’t caught red-handed, the Endless Sea developers wouldn’t find evidence of any abnormal actions he’d taken.

Just now, that man couldn’t do anything to him. In fact, Xie Shuangxue even managed to absorb some of his light—an absolute win.

This time, it was the collective help of the players that saved him.

Xie Shuangxue felt as though he’d opened the door to a new world.

Since his own light was limited, he could only alter the storyline in minor ways. Often, he’d have to rely on players. Previously, observing them on the forum didn’t give him a true sense of what they meant to this world. But now, he understood a bit more.

If this game world was viewed as a real world, players were akin to four-dimensional beings, existing on a higher level and freely moving through time. In this world, they were undying and wielded greater freedom.

As an NPC, Xie Shuangxue could only “borrow,” imitate, or replicate a bit of that freedom from them.

Players were amazing. They were fascinating. He liked them.

Meanwhile, in Qiao Zhihui’s stream, viewers were puzzled about why he was so fixated on this NPC. Though he was attractive, he wasn’t doing anything, just sitting there quietly like a doll, making it a bit dull.

Now that the Penglai City storyline and rewards were wrapping up, many players had lost interest and left. But Qiao Zhihui was sticking around.

“You don’t understand,” he said confidently. “Just watch and see.”

Don’t underestimate him! Xie Shuangxue is really interesting!

No sooner had he spoken than the hall grew lively.

Several Feather Clan members arrived, looking like they’d come from the furthest reaches of the city. They had just taken care of the last Skeleton Ghosts, judging by the bloodstains on them. One had a long wound across his wing, with feathers falling from one side—a terrifying sight. The smallest among them bandaged his wound, then, upon hearing something, stormed straight toward Xie Shuangxue.

“So you’re Xie Shuangxue?”

Huddled in a corner, Xie Shuangxue seemed startled, as though pulled from some deep thought by the question. He responded quietly, almost inaudibly.

“You don’t look hurt, so why didn’t you help? Just hiding out here—what kind of useless son is the Xie family raising?” the young Feather Clan member scoffed. “My brother ran all over the city looking for you, getting hurt this badly, while you’re sitting here doing nothing!”

Xie Shuangxue shrank back, staying silent, looking as though he was simply accepting his fate.

In reality, he was calm and focused.

Opening the forums consumed some light, so he needed to finish reading the post he was on. He was getting to the crucial part, and his quiet, downcast demeanor only served to enrage his aggressor further.

“Are you mute? Say something!”

At this, Xie Shuangxue finally lifted his head as the system prompted, giving the other a slow, measured look.

Ah, an old acquaintance.

After countless beta tests, Xie Shuangxue knew every speaking character in the Feather Clan by heart, especially the one before him.

This was Ling Xuan, one of the most hot-tempered young Feather Clan members, always at odds with Xie Shuangxue. Of course, he made an impression.

Seeing him again in the official storyline, nothing had changed.

Lin Tong’s comforting words to perfectionist Gou Yuan were spot-on. The storyline deviation caused by the Skeleton Ghost boss wasn’t severe. Even if it didn’t fully showcase Xie Shuangxue’s darker side, his timidity would still spark negative impressions among the xenophobic Feather Clan, leading to rejection and disdain—just as Ling Xuan was displaying now.

Xie Shuangxue knew full well that this success was just the first of many steps. He had a long road ahead to alter the plot in his favor.

In the original story, this confrontation was present too.

Ling Xuan, unaware of Xie Shuangxue’s actions, had instinctively blamed him for the death of his fellow clansman, targeting him from the start.

Ling Xuan’s hostility was a mere reflection of the Feather Clan’s general attitude. Even those without his blunt temperament never considered Xie Shuangxue one of their own.

In the original plot, Xie Shuangxue wasn’t the forgiving type. Outwardly silent under such scorn, he’d secretly fume, plotting revenge.

Now, he knew better than to change his demeanor or add dialogue. Ling Xuan’s personality made it clear that arguing would be useless. Staying silent was best; a few insults and maybe a couple of punches were no big deal.

But what surprised him was that, this time, someone stepped forward to defend him.

Ling Xuan, glaring at Xie Shuangxue, felt he was faking innocence, which only fueled his anger. Just as he prepared to haul him up for a beating, someone blocked him.

“Ling Xuan!” It was the Feather Clan member who had saved Xie Shuangxue—or, more accurately, the one Xie Shuangxue had indirectly saved. Stepping between them, he sternly scolded, “Why are you bullying him again?”

“Who’s bullying him?!” Ling Xuan retorted, angrier than ever. “Why are you siding with an outsider, Brother Chen Xin?”

Chen Xin, who had witnessed Xie Shuangxue being harassed twice now, felt sympathy for the boy. Knowing the ambush Xie Shuangxue had endured, he realized this wasn’t mere cowardice; he was just a young boy, seeking survival after losing everything.

“How is he an outsider? Her Highness has already agreed to take him in. He’ll be adopted and officially added to the Feather Clan’s records, so he’s one of us now,” Chen Xin explained patiently. “Things aren’t as simple as you think. Her Highness has ordered an investigation. Once the results are back, you’ll understand.”

The Skeleton Ghosts in that remote garden didn’t seem like any ordinary monsters. Though he hadn’t had time to investigate thoroughly, Chen Xin knew those warriors and mercenaries who had gone to check on the situation would return with answers soon.

Ling Xuan scoffed. “I don’t buy it! Who cares if he’s scared—he’s still a coward!”

Their argument created a tense standoff.

This commotion drew several Feather Clan members’ attention, and Qiao Zhihui was streaming it all live.

Many viewers knew Xie Shuangxue’s character as a minor villain, guessing that scenes like this shaped his twisted motives. Some felt pity and said as much in the chat.

But Qiao Zhihui was even more indignant, his tone more outraged than some of Xie Shuangxue’s biggest fans.

“How could he say that? Our Shuangxue isn’t like that! They don’t know how hard he tries!”

Chat: ?

Wait, how well do you even know this NPC?

When did you turn into such a hopeless fan?