Famine 74: Forest Hot Spring Pavilion

As for the location of the hot spring festival hall, Si Zhiyan had long made up his mind.
His gaze settled on the most open and least developed part of the entire farm—

The northern forest.

Over the past days, Si Zhiyan had thoroughly reviewed all the forest-related enhancements available in the mall, and found they fell into two main categories.
The first was the logistics route: things like forest hunting grounds and mushroom gardens.
The second was an aggressive route: carnivorous pitcher plants, blood-meat blossoms, and the like.

While the forest plot remained part of the farm’s interior, Si Zhiyan preferred to develop it peacefully.

From his experience with the Imagination Pond, he knew that land inside the farm would expand with the overall farm completion rate.
In the future, should the forest extend beyond the farm’s borders, becoming an outer woodland, then aggressive enhancements would come into play—turning it into a defensive structure for the farm.

No matter what, it was a waste to use such a safe and tranquil woodland solely as a hunting ground.

Moreover, the hot spring required a secluded, private place, far from the crowds.

A forest hot spring inn… Sounded just right.

Without hesitation, Si Zhiyan pulled the items from his backpack.

[Ding! [Legendary Terrain – Thousand Lake Hot Springs] placed.]
[Ding! [Tenman Shrine Hot Spring Festival Hall (Abandoned)] placed.]

With a flash of light, a dilapidated wooden hot spring inn was set deep within the forest.

The hot spring inn was extremely run-down: the old wooden floors were mottled with mold; the sign hung askew, on the verge of falling; the remnants of the shrine altar were just barely visible. In many places, the building was broken, wreathed in wild overgrowth creeping in from the forest. The primeval woods blotted out most of the light; wandering inside felt oppressively dark and cavernous, pitch black all around. On careful inspection, one could make out old, splash-shaped, dark-red stains scattered across the walls and floor.

It really was… chillingly eerie. Like a scene straight out of a Japanese horror film.

No wonder it was set to [Abandoned] status.
Only a band of apocalypse-hardened types like the Spring Grass Mercenary Group would be able to soak in a hot spring like this.

The witch puppet drifted up to Si Zhiyan’s side, her voice sweet yet chilling, soft as a whisper in his ear.
[The smiles of the sacrifices must be heartfelt. No bribes, no coercion.]
[Of the past sacrifices, 423 have already been provided.]
[There is not much time left.]

[Liars must swallow a thousand needles. That is fate.]

“I understand,” Si Zhiyan replied with a smile. “You can rest easy.”

No purchasing or intimidation—Si Zhiyan shook his head in mild disappointment.
That meant none of his planned shortcuts would work. He couldn’t, for instance, put a photo booth at the entrance or offer a “Smiling Check-In, 50 Points Back!” promotion… Such tricks wouldn’t be accepted here.
Still, that was fine. Collecting just two thousand more smiles allowed a measure of leeway in time.

Those 423 prior smiles probably came from the Spring Grass Mercenaries in the ice cave, the numbers matching perfectly.
Having received the farm’s assistance, their faces lit up with genuine joy.

Though this little witch was eerie and full of deadly threat, she quietly credited all those smiles to Si Zhiyan, without keeping so much as a single one for herself.
—She wasn’t, after all, an unreasonable child.

Si Zhiyan noticed this, and smiled at her.

The witch puppet’s expression, though still a dazzling smile rendered in black lines, betrayed no emotion.
She drifted beside him, then slipped into the bubbling heart of the hot spring, awaiting new offerings.

Now, it was time to get to work.

Si Zhiyan rolled up his sleeves and, points at hand, began to restore the hot spring.

First, he removed questionable rooms—those for blood rituals, sacrificial offerings, and the like—tidying up the overall hot spring area.

He divided the hot spring festival hall into three zones: bathing pools, accommodation, and dining.

First, the accommodation.

Calculating the days, there were only six left from opening to the event’s deadline.
To gather two thousand smiles in six days, and allow for some margin of error, he’d need to handle around four hundred guests per day.
Most visitors came in groups of friends or family; with two or three guests per room, a first phase of three hundred rooms would suffice.

Swoosh. Si Zhiyan kept the traditional atmosphere of a Japanese hot spring, pouring points bit by bit into the restoration. New forest-scented timbers replaced the moldy, blood-stained planks, bringing the place to life.

Rotting wooden doors became crisp-white shoji screens; fresh tatami mats lined the floor, each with soft white quilts and a low bed. Every room featured a walk-in sliding closet stocked with three sets of bathrobes, eye masks, and a change of bedding.

Set in the forest’s most tranquil depth, the rooms opened on both sides; sliding the door revealed the primeval woods in all their splendor. On the veranda, a few flat cushions and low wooden tables awaited for conversation and rest.

Si Zhiyan thought further, purchasing [Insect Repellent Wards] for every room from the mall.

He knew from experience that real forest living wasn’t as peaceful as it seemed—frogs croaked, insects shrilled, and wild creatures could invade; pure-wood buildings had little insulation, so much so that you’d hear your neighbor’s every word. Light sleepers would find it a nightmare.

And with players’ combat skills, anyone bent on causing trouble—or theft—could easily break through the lovely wooden walls and doors.

But with the farm’s add-on spell formations—available for just a few dozen points apiece—none of this was a problem.
He could ensure everyone enjoyed the forest’s tranquility, a clean environment, and a quiet night’s rest—why not have it all?

Of course, should anyone prefer birdsong or wish to bring home a pet rhinoceros beetle, the wards could be toggled at will.

Next came the most important part: the bathing pools.

Thousand Lake Hot Springs covered an enormous area; this first-phase festival hall only occupied about thirty percent, but already boasted over a hundred pools.

The pools varied in temperature, composition, and form—each one different, some oddly shaped, all intriguing.

There were not only bathing pools of varying warmth and size, but also some visually inventive pools: one, for instance, held comfortably-warm water that, when you dipped your hand in, sent forth a sky full of shimmering bubbles—like bathing in a rainbow of light.

Of course, some pools had more alarming effects: boiling pools, and pools tinged blood-red… Si Zhiyan noted that some, labeled with abilities like “dissolve bone and flesh,” were best kept hidden—no accidents, please.

He moved through, designating each pool to a suitable bathing room.

Suddenly, his gaze fixed on one specific pool. He let out a soft, puzzled “Hm?”