97: Chapter 89 All Demons? No, All Japanese Devils!

Inside the hall, purple smoke swirled, and the sound of bronze bells intertwined with the hallucinogenic sweet fragrance, like a gentle yet fatal large net.

Pei Duo leaned back on the tiger-skin soft couch, tapping the armrest intermittently with her fingers.

Although her body was relaxed, as the persona of the "Eldest Princess of the Underworld," she could not let it collapse. She narrowed her eyes slightly, maintaining the bored languor unique to someone in a superior position.

Lin Sa was genuinely enjoying herself. This sister had a big heart and was staring with great interest at the bells tied to the dancers' bare feet.

Only Xu Mo’s back was never completely resting against the chair.

His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the flickering candlelight, concealing his eyes, which always carried a scrutinizing look.

He was not attracted by the alluring dancers twisting their waists in the center, but instead lowered his gaze slightly toward the bronze food table piled high with delicacies before him.

On the table lay a plate of freshly sliced "Roasted Venison," the slices as thin as cicada wings, still sizzling with hot oil.

Xu Mo reached out and picked up the wine jue.

Shielded by his wide robe sleeves, his gaze cut precisely like a scalpel onto the tableware beside it.

There lay a pair of ivory chopsticks.

Exquisite and expensive, but these chopsticks were currently placed neatly across the very front edge of the food table, tips pointing left, handles pointing right.

Xu Mo lightly stroked the rim of the wine jue with his fingers.

Huaxia etiquette, since ancient times, emphasized, "One should not tire of refined food, nor despise thinly sliced meat," and even more so, it valued rules. In a dynasty like the Yin Shang, which extremely revered sacrifices and divine authority, eating was equivalent to receiving a sacrifice. Chopsticks should be placed vertically, pointing straight ahead, symbolizing communication between heaven and earth and facilitating the taking of food.

Placed horizontally?

That was treating the chopsticks like a roadblock, signifying the rejection of guests from a thousand miles away.

Xu Mo calmly set down the wine jue and extended his right hand, seemingly preparing to casually pick up some food. His fingers very naturally nudged the horizontal ivory chopsticks upright, changing them to the vertical placement conforming to Huaxia rules.

After completing this action, he did not pick up any meat, but instead lifted the wine cup again, his peripheral vision locked tightly onto the serving maid responsible for serving food to his side and rear.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

"Swish—"

The maid reacted almost instantly. She maintained her kneeling posture with a stiff upper body, her knees scraping the ground, making a faint rustling sound as she "slid" over to Xu Mo's table.

She wore an expression of terror, as if she had witnessed something utterly treasonous.

The hands wearing sharp gold finger guards swiftly reached out, even somewhat roughly snatching the chopsticks before Xu Mo could act again, forcefully turning the just-vertical chopsticks back to a horizontal position.

"My Lord."

The maid lowered her head, her voice suppressed extremely low, carrying a strange resonance as if a bone were lodged in her throat: "When the chopsticks are horizontal, the boundary is set. This is the rule; it must not be broken."

Xu Mo’s fingers gripping the wine cup tightened slightly.

Chopsticks horizontal means boundary set? What kind of Yin Shang rule was that?

Eating was a monumental affair for the ancestors of Huaxia; who would have the leisure to set up a 'barrier' for themselves at the dining table?

A strong sense of incongruity crawled up Xu Mo’s spine.

But he did not make a sound, merely gave a faint "En" and withdrew his hand.

At this moment, Daji on the high seat seemed to feel the atmosphere was not yet lively enough.

She fanned herself with her feather fan, her fox eyes sweeping towards the lower seats, and she sweetly called out: "Uncle Bigan, Your Highness has traveled a long way. As an elder, will you not offer a toast?"

The person called upon was a middle-aged nobleman wearing an elaborate brocade robe embroidered with beast masks.

This man had been pretending to be dead below, but upon hearing Daji call his name, he immediately put on an expression of being overwhelmed by favor. He raised a full jue of wine, laughed loudly, and stood up from the banquet, staggering toward Pei Duo’s side.

"A toast to the Eldest Princess! Ten thousand years for Great Yin! Ten thousand years for the Underworld!"

This man had a booming voice. As he walked, he held the wine jue high above his head, appearing incredibly bold, possessing a certain wild energy typical of Yin Shang nobility.

Xu Mo peered coldly through his lenses at this approaching 'Uncle.'

One step, two steps.

Just as this 'Uncle' reached the base of the steps and prepared to salute, the fatal flaw finally revealed itself.

According to ancient Yin Shang rites, when a noble met a superior, they performed either the 'Baishou Li' (bowing with hands clasped) or the more solemn kneeling kowtow.

But this man did neither.

He walked directly in front of Pei Duo, neither kneeling nor bowing.

He gently placed the wine jue he was holding on the ground, then stood with his feet together, his five fingers stiffly pressed together, palms facing down, clinging tightly to the outer side of his thighs.

Immediately after, his upper body bent sharply downward like a broken wooden plank.

Forty-five degrees.

A standard forty-five degrees, one that could even be measured with a protractor.

In this posture, his back was ramrod straight, his head bowed, maintaining an extremely rigid and wooden stiffness.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

A full three seconds, completely motionless.

This was clearly not the etiquette in Huaxia civilization that valued 'lively spirit,' nor was it the wild and unrestrained prostration of Yin Shang.

This was clearly the subservience and mechanical nature ingrained in the bones of another ethnic group—the Japanese standing bow (Ritsurei)!

And that action of keeping his hands stuck to his trouser seams, that posture of wanting to lower himself into the dust...

This was a variation of the 'Dogeza'!

A lightning bolt exploded in Xu Mo's mind, instantly dispelling all the fog.

He suddenly turned his head, his gaze no longer confined to the people, but quickly sweeping over the details of the artifacts he had previously ignored throughout the hall.

Under the dim candlelight, the 'small tripods' and 'lacquer plates' holding the dishes finally revealed their true appearance.

At first glance, they were Yin Shang style with black and red coloring, but if one looked closely at the subtle patterns on them...

Where were the Taotie? Where were the Kui dragons? Where were the cloud and thunder patterns?

Those extremely fine and complicated hidden patterns were clearly blooming cherry blossoms drifting down, and chrysanthemums with extremely unfurled petals!

Yin Shang revered ferocious, wild, and powerful divine beast totems; that was reverence and a desire for conquest over heaven, earth, ghosts, and gods.

But the lacquerware before him exuded a petty, effeminate, and trivial air, filled with that decaying flavor of 'mono no aware.'

All the clues completely closed the loop at this moment.

The previous maid with the 'kneeling slide' and severely inwardly curved big toes—that was skeletal deformation caused by long-term kneeling (Seiza).

The horizontal chopsticks before him—that was the obsession with a 'boundary' rooted in Japanese culture.

This 'Uncle's' forty-five-degree deep bow—that was the muscle memory of an Eastern corporate slave.

And this table of dishes, which looked exquisite but was actually very meager, with flashy plating...

Xu Mo felt a chill run down his scalp, but what followed was a cold pleasure of intellectual superiority.

This was not some damned A-rank instance, 'Lutai Startling Dream.'

This was a 'Trojan Horse' stuffed with Eastern devils, wearing the outer skin of Huaxia's Yin Shang!

These bastards from the Japanese God System had set a trap this deep, specifically targeting Pei Duo and their team!

The moment he understood how to clear the instance, a cold glint flashed in Xu Mo's eyes.

But he did not overturn the table.

Daji—or rather, the S-rank BOSS that was some unknown old Japanese hag in disguise—was sitting on the high platform now, smiling faintly as she watched them, fiddling with that five-colored feather fan, looking like she was watching caged beasts.

Exposing it now would be sending them to their deaths.

Xu Mo took a deep breath and instantly adjusted his expression.

He straightened his cuffs, leaned slightly forward, picked up the wine jug, and adopted the posture of pouring wine for Pei Duo.

Using his body as cover, he moved between Pei Duo and Lin Sa.

At the loudest moment of the bronze bells.

Xu Mo's voice, as if containing ice shards, precisely drilled into both their eardrums.

"Don't drink it."

Pei Duo’s hand, which was about to reach for the wine cup, paused, and her eyes instantly sharpened.

Lin Sa also stopped shaking her leg, her entire body’s muscles tensing.

Xu Mo looked up, gazing down at the entire assembly of guests through his coldly gleaming lenses.

Looking at those 'Yin Shang nobles' still feigning bows, looking at the dancers wearing bizarre white makeup, his expression was grave.

"This is not the Yin Shang Lutai at all."

"This is an instance belonging to the Japanese God System," Xu Mo’s voice was suppressed extremely low, yet carried a chilling certainty, "These sons of bitches are putting on a grand show for us."