Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 23: Code
Long Legs, Handsome, Stick Figure, and Fair Face disappeared in the torrential rain in an instant, leaving no trace, as if they had never been on this plane.
“Are they… dead?” Kuang Jinxin’s voice was hoarse from crying, yet he was still worried about his adversaries.
Xu Wang had no answer because he was uncertain too.
“It can’t be.” Qian Ai was still sprawled on the ground, “the lingering numbness” preventing him from standing up. He continued to lie there, fortunately able to speak again. “This place is like this. Once it assesses that you’ve been too severely injured, it will send you home early. I’ve been pounced on by a bear, sucked into a tornado, and both times I was bounced back to reality.”
“Isn’t the Fishnado your own or your teammate’s stationery?” Xu Wang was confused. “Why would a Fishnado send you home?”
Qian Ai turned his face away. “I refuse to recall that.”
Passengers sitting next to the bomb on the wing reacted not to the sudden disappearance of Long Legs but to the bomb itself. The color drained from their faces, and their voices were tinged with an accusing tone filled with tears. “Didn’t the captain say the bomb would be defused soon? It’s been over an hour…”
Wu Sheng didn’t bother to converse further, directly entering the three digits that hadn’t been input by Long Legs—9, 1, 4.
The countdown to the explosion, which had been ticking down, now stopped.
Wu Sheng could hardly believe it was so smooth, yet he couldn’t control the ecstasy rising within him.
“Well? Has it stopped?” Qian Ai, supported by Xu Wang and Kuang Jinxin, stood up unsteadily at the tail of the plane, still concerned about the situation.
Wu Sheng breathed a sigh of relief and was just about to respond when something flickered in his peripheral vision!
Instinctively, he turned back to look at the bomb. The countdown, which had been stationary, had started moving again!
And—
It was ticking down at a rate of one second per change, but the countdown was decreasing by five seconds each tick.
The countdown had accelerated fivefold.
“Damn! Are they trying to kill us?” Xu Wang, called over by Wu Sheng, couldn’t accept this reality. He now felt like kicking the bomb into oblivion.
“No, wait.” Wu Sheng suddenly seemed to remember something, shaking his head. “No, it’s not the two of them.”
“Is it me then!” Xu Wang was on the verge of frenzy.
Wu Sheng suddenly leaned in, nose to nose, eye to eye, and slowly but clearly said, “They don’t have the blood gourd.”
Xu Wang’s throat inexplicably went dry, repeating softly, “Blood gourd?”
Wu Sheng nodded. “Yes, the small pamphlet said that after the sacrifice, a blood droplet would form on the glazed gourd. According to the legend, only when the blood in the gourd is full is the sacrifice complete, and one can ascend to immortality. They firmly believe this, even willing to sacrifice everyone on the plane, so they must have an identical gourd hanging around their necks. But when Lao Qian was putting a loop around their necks earlier, there was no red string gourd.”
“Could they have hidden it?”
“If they had thought that far ahead, they wouldn’t have kept knocking on the door until we came out with evidence before thinking of running.”
“The times are evolving, and society is progressing; maybe they have more advanced tools for sacrifice now?”
“If you always apply real-world logic here, then there’s no solving this. Think about it. Why was it such a coincidence that when you were in the luggage compartment asking questions, it triggered the luggage to fall? Why were only the two of them coming to help you pick up the luggage? If this were reality, and the only two ‘good samaritans’ happen to be criminals, how low would that probability be?”
Xu Wang looked steadily at Wu Sheng. His irritation was gradually cooling, and his rationality slowly returned.
“So every piece of information related to the main storyline provided here is useful. The booklet specifically mentioned the blood gourd, so it must mean something.”
Wu Sheng exhaled in relief, approvingly patting his head. “You’re finally getting it.”
Xu Wang wanted to shake off his hand but felt somewhat subdued due to his earlier “gaffe” and let him be.
For always maintaining at least basic rationality and calmness in any situation, Xu Wang truly admired Wu Sheng, even though he had never told him so. He remembered that during exams, whenever he encountered a question he couldn’t answer, he would start panicking, wanting to flip the desk within minutes. The rest of the paper would be futile, answered in haste, and utterly messy.
On this matter, he had once humbly sought advice from Wu Sheng, who generously shared his experience: First, skip the question and continue with others; second, after finishing the rest, return to the ones skipped.
Xu Wang always felt that this advice was easier said than done.
Even if he skipped the question, it would still linger in his mind, affecting his state. And when he returned to the questions he skipped, would he suddenly have an epiphany? — That was what he once asked his class monitor.
If he remembered correctly, they were in their sophomore year of high school then. The class monitor, exuding an inexplicable coolness, flipped his bangs and gave him an unforgettable answer—Why would it affect your state of mind? There isn’t a question in this world I can’t solve; answering them earlier or later is just a matter of order.
“He’s dead! Ahhhhhhh—” A sudden scream from the back of the plane pulled Xu Wang back from his thoughts.
Wu Sheng had already stood up before him, leaving behind the instruction “Watch the bomb,” and sprinted towards the tail of the plane.
Xu Wang stayed put, craning his neck like all the other curious passengers to see what was happening at the tail of the plane.
He saw that the two passengers, Feng Liuyi and An Qijiu, who were previously sitting, were now both on the ground, with the flight attendants performing emergency CPR on them.
Three minutes later, Wu Sheng returned with a somber look on his face. “They didn’t make it.”
Xu Wang was shocked, yet a sense of absurdity emerged as the surreal world and real emotions intertwined into a confusing experience.
“Poison,” Wu Sheng said. “They acted too quickly in taking the pills. Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang didn’t even have time to react.”
Xu Wang hung his head.
He had been hoping to pry some information about the blood gourd from these two, and now he was back to square one.
As the countdown to the explosion continued, Wu Sheng suddenly asked, “How many people in economy class haven’t you talked to yet?”
Xu Wang didn’t understand his intention but answered truthfully, “I talked up to Hua Wuwu—about forty-something people left.”
“There’s no time.” Wu Sheng glanced at the clock. “With the countdown accelerating five times, we have only 16 minutes left. We can only take a gamble now.”
Xu Wang asked, “Gamble on what?”
“Every person in first-class has a story, and I’ve talked to everyone in business class without finding anything suspicious. But there are many people in economy class, so I’m betting on the high probability that the culprit is there,” Wu Sheng explained. “But we only have time for one thing now: either you quickly relay the information of the people you’ve talked to, and we look for clues, or we split up and talk to those we haven’t spoken to yet. So you also have to gamble. Is the culprit among those you’ve talked to, or those you haven’t?”
Instinctively, Xu Wang wanted to say the culprit is among those he hasn’t talked to. But considering the painful lesson that “he hadn’t detected any hints from talking to Jiang San’er”, Xu Wang rarely reflected, and after some thought, he solemnly made his choice. “Among those I’ve talked to.”
Wu Sheng slightly furrowed his brows. “You’ve talked to thirty-something people, and there are forty-something left. Are you sure you want to bet on the minority?”
Xu Wang shrugged, confessing honestly, “Not sure, but since you’re asking me to choose, I can only trust my instincts.”
Wu Sheng looked at him for two seconds, then smiled. “If you trust your instincts, I trust you.”
Xu Wang was caught off guard and felt a sweet flutter in his heart, struggling to maintain his composure as he heard a childish voice calling, “Uncle—”
Both Xu Wang and Wu Sheng turned their heads, seeing a five- or six-year-old boy standing in the aisle, tilting his head and blinking big eyes at them, his face so adorably carved and rosy.
“Xiao Yisi?” Wu Sheng recognized the child, who had lingered long on the suspect list of Xu Erling, even compared to the likes of Washington, Edison, Luo Binwang, and Cao Chong.
“Uncle.” Shen Yisi was looking for Wu Sheng, and upon seeing him respond, he immediately smiled like a milk flower. “My grandma said she’s cold and asked me to get a blanket.”
“Grandma?” Wu Sheng was puzzled. “Aren’t you traveling alone?”
“Wait.” Xu Wang tapped Wu Sheng’s arm urgently. As Wu Sheng turned, Xu Wang’s eyelashes nearly fluttered off as he mouthed “Blan—ket.”
A perfectly normal word was made to sound fragmented and broken by Xu Wang.
Wu Sheng’s mind clicked, his ears seemingly ringing with the sound of the soft Wu dialect and the grating of the Rainstorm of Pear Blossom Needles.
“I’m not traveling alone,” Shen Yisi, still clueless but sweetly smiling, replied. “I’m with my grandma. Our seats aren’t together; I’m on top, and she’s below. She says the bottom is spacious but a bit cold.”
Xu Wang: “……”
Wu Sheng: “……”
The air froze.
Grandmothers and little kids, the two most fatal elements in horror movies, all present. TAT
“Uncle?”
“Uh, that is.” Xu Wang found his voice again, though still strained, but tried to sound friendly. “Little buddy, go to the tail and ask a flight attendant for a blanket.”
Shen Yisi obediently nodded. “Thank you, Uncle!” then wobbled towards the tail.
The light cast his small figure into a long shadow, and Xu Wang felt as if something was about to spring out from that shadow at any moment.
His gaze followed Shen Yisi to the tail, just as a flight attendant emerged from the galley. Shen Yisi seemed to call out, or maybe not, but the attendant didn’t hear him, stepping around him and continuing forward.
Shen Yisi stood there, bewildered, and even from just seeing his back, one could sense his helplessness.
The bodies of Feng Liuyi and An Qijiu had been moved to a corner by Qian Ai and covered with clothes. Now at the tail were Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin, one guarding the bodies and surveying the whole situation, the other without tasks and simply helping Qian Ai look around.
Soon, Kuang Jinxin noticed Shen Yisi, took a few steps forward, bent down with a smile, and started talking to the child.
Qian Ai didn’t move but was paying attention, his ears perked for any noise.
From the distance between Wu Sheng and Xu Wang, they couldn’t hear their conversation, but they could clearly see Shen Yisi gesturing several times, after which Kuang Jinxin nodded and turned towards the galley for supplies. Not far off, Qian Ai, who had evidently heard the conversation and unlike the oblivious Kuang Jinxin, had listened in on the grandmother’s phone call.
Consequently, he was now entirely tense, pressing himself against the cabin wall, his face filled with a look of despair as if to say, “I really don’t want to watch a horror movie. Why am I being forced to?”
Xu Wang and Wu Sheng sighed in unison, sending across a look of genuine understanding to Qian Ai through the space.
In the blink of an eye, Kuang Jinxin emerged with a blanket, handing it to the little kid.
Shen Yisi must have said thank you, as Kuang Jinxin smiled and patted his head.
The child happily returned with the blanket, and Kuang Jinxin watched him go with a sense of “respecting the old and loving the young*” satisfaction arising within him.
*(尊老爱幼) Idiom referring to one’s good moral character (as they respect the old and take care of the young, which is considered a virtue in China).
He watched the child, and his three teammates watched him with subtly complex emotions.
Luck, after all, might be tied to age, character, appearance, height, personality, and hobbies—some people just score higher overall, something not to be envied.
As the countdown to the explosion continued.
“We could ask everyone to strip down and see who has a gourd around their neck. Wouldn’t that person be the culprit?”
“If you announce, ‘Everyone, please take off your clothes’, the moment you do, they could easily remove the gourd. Would you even notice then?”
“…You are right.”
Xu Wang shut up, then took half a minute to recall and another two and a half minutes to relay, at the fastest speed of his life, the information about all the economy passengers from seats 23–55 he had talked to.
During this, Wu Sheng didn’t utter a word. The silence was nearly driving Xu Wang to despair, until he finished talking about the last person he had conversed with—Hua Wuwu.
“What did you say?”
Xu Wang was caught off guard by Wu Sheng grabbing his wrist and was startled. “What, what?”
Wu Sheng urgently repeated, “What did Hua Wuwu say to you?”
Xu Wang really didn’t want to repeat. “He said he also wanted to have a ‘fast and furious’ adventure at thirty thousand feet, but alas, a pear blossom falls in the rain in vain, nowhere to find a begonia…” Rolling his eyes, he looked speechlessly at his teammate. “Are you only interested in these inappropriate topics for kids?”
Wu Sheng ignored his teasing, finally grasping the crucial point. “‘Also’? What do you mean ‘also’?”
Xu Wang matter-of-factly responded, “That means he saw someone else doing it.”
Realizing the significance, he abruptly froze.
Wu Sheng knew he had caught on. “Right, that’s it. Who exactly did he see doing it with whom?”
In the journey of “being chatty,” the triggered events were mostly centered around the “subject” of the inquiry—like “What’s my job?”, “What do I like?”, “My boyfriend cheated on me,” and the like. Rarely did anyone talk about “what others did”.
In Wu Sheng’s case, Xu Erling did. Initially, Wu Sheng thought he was just a detective character, until he connected him with someone else, thereby unearthing three suspects.
In Xu Wang’s case, only Hua Wuwu mentioned such an unrelated topic. But upon reflection, it wasn’t that simple.
Who exactly did Hua Wuwu see?
“Who and who? I don’t know them. How would I know their names?” Hua Wuwu glanced at Xu Wang, who had rushed over. “Oh, you remember to ask me now? You were so indifferent when I tried chatting earlier.”
Wu Sheng stepped in front of Xu Wang, looking down at Hua Wuwu. “I’ll entertain you. Go ahead. Talk about anything.”
Hua Wuwu looked up at him, swallowing unconsciously, suddenly finding the previous guy more approachable and gentle.
“It was the one who died.” No more beating around the bush, Hua Wuwu gave the answer.
Wu Sheng was surprised, and at the same time, a heaviness sank. “The two of them?”
“No, it was one of them and another person…” Hua Wuwu stood up, surveyed the economy class, and finally fixed his gaze on a spot, whispering to Wu Sheng. “There, seat number ninety-one. He and one of the dead were galloping in the restroom. Took quite a long time.”
The heart that almost sank to the bottom was rekindled with hope!
Number ninety-one. Wu Sheng silently recited the surnames and got it—Yuan, Yuan Jiuyi!
“The two of them, in the restroom…you saw it?” Xu Wang looked at seat ninety-one. It was a well-dressed passenger who had his eyes closed, seemingly just another well-mannered businessperson.
“Two guys enter the restroom together, fiddle around for over ten minutes before coming out. What else could they possibly be doing? Discussing life while squatting on the toilet?” Hua Wuwu flicked his silver-white hair with an expression of “bud, you’re too green” on his face. “The times are different now. Nowadays, with gender equality, men and men, women and women—they’re all equal.”
No need for further questions.
Hua Wuwu didn’t care what Yuan Jiuyi and either Feng Liuyi or An Qijiu might have been doing in the restroom. As long as he and Wu Sheng were clear that Yuan Jiuyi had indeed interacted with one of those two.
Perhaps, he had separately sought out Feng Liuyi and An Qijiu to the restroom for “nefarious planning”, and just happened to be seen by Hua Wuwu one of those times.
As the countdown to the explosion continued, Qian Ai, Wu Sheng, Xu Wang, and Kuang Jinxin gathered at the tail of the plane. Two rows ahead was Yuan Jiuyi’s back.
“Ready?” Wu Sheng asked.
Qian Ai nodded, taking a deep breath.
Wu Sheng and Xu Wang said in unison, “Let’s go.”
Qian Ai didn’t move, but his voice shot out like an arrow piercing clouds, aiming straight at Yuan Jiuyi. “口口口口口—”
Nearby passengers were startled and turned their heads at this sudden outburst.
Qian Ai’s voice faded, but the anticipated three-dimensional Chinese character didn’t appear.
“Huh?” Qian Ai, not giving up, shouted again, “口口, 88, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven!”
Still nothing.
Frustrated, Qian Ai wondered if his stationery had expired right at this crucial moment.
“Qian Ai,” Wu Sheng suddenly said in a low voice, audible only to them, succinctly conveying a new strategy. “[A Single Leaf Blocks the Eyes].”
If the function of this stationery worked literally as it suggested, it would achieve the effect Wu Sheng desired.
This maneuver wasn’t part of the original plan. [A Single Leaf Blocks the Eyes] was Qian Ai’s last piece of stationery, but he didn’t hesitate at all, decisively using [(Defense) A Single Leaf Blocks the Eyes] on Yuan Jiuyi!
A sudden gust of wind arose, carrying a long, narrow green leaf shot towards Yuan Jiuyi like a dart!
At the same time, Wu Sheng leaped forward with lightning speed!
The green leaf covered Yuan Jiuyi’s eyes, and he instinctively reached up to swipe it away, but the leaf clung to his eyes as if it had grown there, impossible to remove!
In that moment, Wu Sheng reached his side, instantly spotting the red silk thread hidden in his collar. While Yuan Jiuyi struggled with the leaf, Wu Sheng deftly hooked his finger and gave a hard tug, successfully breaking the red thread!
Wu Sheng looked at the red silk thread in his hand, unsurprised to find a glaze gourd attached to it.
Like the person in the small pamphlet, Yuan Jiuyi’s gourd was also nearly filled with blood, only missing a small drop at the tip of the gourd.
Wu Sheng quickly returned to the tail to regroup with his teammates, while Yuan Jiuyi finally managed to tear off the green leaf, turning his gaze towards the tail with a sinister look, no longer resembling a human but more like one possessed by a demon.
“Give me the gourd,” he demanded in a hoarse voice, as if slashed by a knife.
Wu Sheng watched him from afar. “Want the gourd? Give us the code.”
Yuan Jiuyi was silent.
The entire cabin seemed to fall into a deadly silence with his quiet.
The countdown continued, with only a little over three minutes left at five times the speed!
Finally, Yuan Jiuyi spoke again, even more chillingly. “I’ll say it one last time. Give me the gourd.”
Wu Sheng’s lips were tightly pressed, his expression steady, but inside he was anxious. They didn’t have much time; they couldn’t keep stalling with Yuan Jiuyi.
“Fine, here.” Suddenly, Xu Wang spoke up and swiftly snatched the red silk thread from Wu Sheng.
However, just as he picked up the gourd, his hand suddenly slipped for some unknown reason. One end of the red silk thread wasn’t grasped firmly and slid right out from between his fingers. The thread became vertical, and the glass gourd immediately began to slide down the thread. In an instant, it was in free fall, about to hit the ground and shatter!
“Ahhhhh—!” Yuan Jiu Yi roared furiously, rushing toward the tail like a madman!
Xu Wang quickly crouched down, catching the gourd at the very last moment and then lifting it up with a gentle smile towards Yuan Jiuyi. “Come any closer, and I’ll really smash it.”
Yuan Jiuyi stopped in his tracks about two meters away.
Xu Wang stood up, his smile fading as he looked intently into his eyes. “You’re not in a position to negotiate with us.” His voice was deep and heavy, perfectly imitating Yuan Jiu Yi, sounding like the ultimate villain. “Either you tell us the code, and we’ll return the gourd to you—after all, you’re only missing a drop of blood. If this sacrifice doesn’t work, you can always plan for the next one. Or, you insist on not telling, then I assure you, I’ll make sure that your gourd is destroyed before the bomb explodes.”
“Haa.” Xu Wang suddenly reverted to his own voice, feigning regret. “Without the gourd, I wonder to which wandering spirit or ghost this plane full of lives will be sacrificed.”
“0893.” Yuan Jiuyi could hold out no longer. His bloodshot eyes were fixated on the gourd in Xu Wang’s hand. “My completed sacrifice, plus this plane, makes exactly 999 lives, returning to the singular. The True Lord will ferry me across, and I shall ascend to immortality.”
Xu Wang shook his head, unwilling to converse further with the lunatic. Though he knew it was fake, hearing about those 893 lives still unsettled him.
In a moment of distraction, Wu Sheng had already dashed off, colliding with Yuan Jiuyi and sprinting to the wing!
The countdown continued, with Wu Sheng taking a deep breath to stabilize his fingertips and pressing down the numbers one by one.
0.
8.
9.
3.
The countdown continued, with Wu Sheng waiting almost a minute before the seconds no longer changed.
The countdown truly stopped.
“Give me the gourd!” Yuan Jiuyi demanded impatiently.
Xu Wang extended his arm towards him, slowly opening his palm.
Yuan Jiuyi’s face brightened, immediately stepping forward to take it.
But just as he was about to grasp the gourd, Xu Wang’s palm suddenly flipped.
The gourd fell to the ground, shattering into pieces of fresh blood and bits of glass.
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