Famine 127: Gathering

“Who told you you could only sleep for one hour?”

At these words, the group fell into a moment of mutual bewilderment.

Wasn’t the allotted sleep period in the Abyss something they had figured out long ago? The teammates began murmuring among themselves—was the little doctor really all right after making it back alive? Could his mind have been affected?

Yan Cheng lounged against the open tent, making no effort to struggle, simply turning his head to look at him.

Suddenly, Ye Xianqing smiled and pulled a [Portable Lava Flask] from his coat pocket.

He carefully tore open the packaging, and in the darkness the gentle firelight ignited. Beneath the glass, the liquid lava glimmered, rolling with gravity—a breathtakingly beautiful sight.

Then, Ye Xianqing decisively switched off his own bright headlamp.

“Hey—!” Hua Ning started, about to intervene, but then fell silent all at once.

In the deep blackness of the Abyss, Ye Xianqing, clad in his white coat, cradled the bottle of flowing lava in both hands, head slightly raised.

His brows and gaze were calm and composed; the gold-rimmed glasses reflected the flicker of molten light.

He was alive—unharmed, not swallowed by the dark.

For a moment, everyone forgot themselves, transfixed.
The team members who had been about to stop him were stunned, their fingers trembling, at a loss for words.

“Go to sleep,” Ye Xianqing said.

His hands were steady as he held the light source that completely upended the abyssal law of darkness. His delicate features exuded a peaceful stillness.
His voice, as ever when tending to their ailments, was cool and rational—familiar yet strangely distant, as if he were some messenger of the divine.

“Each lava flask protects a one-meter radius. I bought three; if we squeeze together, that’s one for every tent—everyone can rest.”

“While the flasks burn, we have another four and a half hours.”

……
…

It was a deep, black, sweet sleep.

Since coming to the Abyss, this was the best, most restful sleep they’d had. They sank into deep sleep, each second massaging their exhausted minds. It felt so comfortable their thoughts stopped altogether.

They slept for three and a half hours before being called awake, eyes fluttering open in the dimness.

“Fifty-nine minutes left—then the lava flask’s effect ends,” Ye Xianqing said, consulting his watch with perfect accuracy. “Time to ready the lanterns.”

Too expensive—they couldn’t afford another round.

“…Uhn.” Yan Cheng bowed his head, rubbing his temples.

After a restful stretch of sleep, true consciousness returned; the heavy-headed ache and pounding heart followed.
They were all still muddled, but there was satisfaction in their eyes along with deep, lingering weariness. They looked at one another and shared bitter smiles.

“Feels so good… ahh… but I’m still so tired…”

Hua Ning let out a giant yawn, face crumpled in regret, rummaging through her gear to retrieve her shoulder lamp, clicking it on mechanically.
Her hands worked the switch—click, click, over and over.

“Ah… this really was the best sleep I’ve had in two months…”
“Yeah…yawn…still tired…”
“Ugh… my head—the pain…”
The team, sprawled about together, was blanketed in a heavy melancholy.

They’d slept three and a half hours.

As time passed, the remaining lava in the flasks slowly evaporated.

Actually, the burn time for the lava could easily have been made longer; Si Zhiyan could’ve crafted the flasks bigger, or even hauled away an entire boulder, turning it into an almost-permanent light source.

But there was no need.

The flask’s 4.5-hour duration, allowing 3.5 hours of sleep, was a deliberate time setting by Si Zhiyan.
It was just enough time for a decent nap—enough to rest and recover for the next fight. But it was not enough to truly satiate the sleep-starved players; instead, it broke the last breath of endurance they’d been holding onto.

To be forced up after just three hours’ sleep—that was torture.

Yan Cheng pressed a hand to his eyes, exhaling deeply. “If only we could rest a bit longer…”

Everyone nodded furiously.

In that instant, the same thought screamed in everyone’s heart—

I just want to keep sleeping—a little more!

“You can,” Ye Xianqing said.

Every head snapped up at once, faster than in any firefight.

“Our deepest delve into the Abyss was to find a new camp, wasn’t it?”
Ye Xianqing adjusted his glasses.
“Once you turn on your lamps and pack your things, come with me.”

…
…

A while later.
When they finally reached their destination, it was already the hour before dawn.

The squad stood before a group of glowing castles, pupils wide, hearts hammering.

Yan Cheng stared up at the sign reading [Farmstead Glimmer Inn], so shocked he was struck momentarily speechless. Tears welled up in his eyes, overflowed, and he simply stared at those lights, unwilling to look away.

Only after a long, silent pause did voices rise again.

“This…” Hua Ning stuttered, her voice faraway and disbelieving, “…Is this really still within the famine game?”

“Xianqing—how did you even find this place? You’re unbelievable!!”

Excited exclamations filled the air.

“I didn’t do anything. It was the builders of the farm, not me,” Ye Xianqing replied.

They gazed up at the castle, each secretly marveling.
It felt like they had only been gone a short while, and already the place had grown, with a few more towers…

Such speed of construction. Ye Xianqing watched in awe as he pushed open the great castle door. The others nodded and followed, entering in a steady stream.

In truth, Ye Xianqing had faced many hardships on his expedition. Many combatants worried about him: so slight and frail, hardly up to carrying gear—he should have remained at camp, protected by all.

How could he possibly claw through a swarm of monsters alone?
Sending the little doctor ahead as a scout? That was clearly sending a lamb to slaughter.

Yet the results Ye Xianqing brought back surpassed everyone’s wildest hopes—even the most imaginative of optimists could not have dreamed it.

He had done it.

Creak.

The door opened onto a beautiful, empty hall.

“Come on,” Ye Xianqing said, a subtle quickness surfacing in his tone.

Usually, whatever the squad decided, the little doctor would offer suggestions from behind. Only after Captain Yan Cheng gave the order did everyone obey.
But this time, everyone was nodding eagerly, surging forward all at once into uncharted territory.

The dynamics around Ye Xianqing in the group had shifted ever so slightly.

Ye Xianqing was a shrewd man; he glanced at Yan Cheng, meeting his blue eyes by chance.
Yan Cheng stood by his side, shoulder to shoulder with him, the sharped edges of his coat softened by the warm lava glow.

He had been watching him the whole time; beneath his scars, those clear blue eyes mirrored the chandelier’s light—so gentle, so pure, without a single blemish.

“Well done,” Yan Cheng said. “Thank you.”

He paused, then let out a quiet laugh.

“I’ve been waiting for this day… to stand with you, side by side.”

“…” Ye Xianqing felt as if he could hear the roar of his own thundering heartbeat.

In the hall, Shi He looked up, eyes brightening.

They had come!
The owner had been right—those players would indeed bring others with them.

The squad led by Yan Cheng was a textbook mid-sized team, all positions filled, numbering nearly forty to fifty people. The whole group nearly filled the entire lobby.

At the head, Yan Cheng greeted Shi He with a mixture of caution and respect, inquiring about prices, then gaped in shock at how cheap everything was—before cheerfully paying up.

[Ding! You have received 300 points.]
[Ding! You have received 300 points.]
……
…

The notification chime continued unabated.

Arranging check-in and room assignments took some time. Shi He worked the counters while inviting Yan Cheng and his team to rest in the lounge. Though the sofas there only had space for ten or so, no one minded—they sat on the carpet if need be, looking around with care, excitement and chatter rising as they observed their new surroundings.

Elsewhere in the farm, Si Zhiyan sipped his coffee in an armchair, smiling with lowered eyes as he waited for the mission progress to update.

…

Ten minutes passed.
Nothing happened. No progress on the mission at all.

[Side Quest—Longing Dream]
[Mission Objective: Gather 500 living humans in the Abyss. Current progress: 3/500.]
[Mission Time Limit: 27 days.]

Hm? Si Zhiyan looked up, frowning slightly.

What was wrong? Why wasn’t the mission progress counting these people? Clearly they were alive. Did the inn lack something necessary?

He shifted his view to the lounge, just in time to catch squad members speaking quietly among themselves.

“This place is truly otherworldly… I’ve dreamed of a safe sleep like this for dozens of days.”

“Yeah, and the light is beautiful. Listen, am I seeing things, or is something moving in the chandelier?”

“With a few days’ rest here, buy some lava flasks and biscuits for supplies—then back to the quests, easy life.”

“Doctor, are you here for good now?”
“Yes. I can’t really help much in combat anyway, so I’ll just make this our base camp. You can come back every week or two to rest and find me here.”

A teammate who had finished with check-in poked their head in from the hall: “Captain, a room for a few days?”
Yan Cheng considered for a moment. “Two days is plenty. Everyone, rest well before heading out. Our supplies are low, and our task site is still a way off. We’ll have to march through the Abyss again.”

A system prompt appeared: [Ding! These guests are transient; they do not fulfill the gathering criteria.]
The system—or the [People of the Lava]—did not simply require guests, but a permanent, simultaneous resident population.

Quite troublesome… Si Zhiyan frowned.
But people are free. How could he possibly keep so many staying for good?

At that moment, someone in the squad raised another issue.
“Captain, this Abyss is so tough, and those lava flasks are expensive. Should we even do missions anymore? Why not just hole up here until the world changes over?”

Yan Cheng shook his head: “This is the famine game. We have to go out and complete tasks.”

“You can’t eat nothing but pastries from the shop three times a day, either. The restocking limit for the shelves has to exist, even if it’s not obvious. Even if it didn’t, you’d lack vital vitamins on sugar and carbs alone—it’d undermine our combat effectiveness.”

“This place may be paradise, but we can’t slip into complacency. Nutrition gels may taste foul, but they’re essential.”

“That’s how the famine game is.”
Ye Xianqing sighed softly as well.
“Sleep is important, but nutrition comes first.”

At this, Si Zhiyan suddenly understood.

He slapped his leg lightly.

The inn was missing something.

It needed a cafeteria!