The only person who had a clearer understanding of the outcome than Lin Chen was Xing Conglian.
Since being with Lin Chen, he felt that everything he had experienced before was nothing compared to the thrilling and real days he was living now.
He had to watch his beloved take life-threatening risks, and he thought this was an extremely wise and intelligent choice, well-considered. Moreover, he had to endure some idiots questioning it. He never thought his temper could deteriorate to this extent; Lin Chen must have spoiled him.
In front of him, the public opinion expert was still seeking advice, but Xing Conglian knew that it was just a report for Shen Heming. However, when he saw the widely circulated analysis article on the internet, he couldn’t help but feel angry. The article was written by a well-known online commentator named Zhai Yong.
This commentator used to be a famous host and had accumulated a large number of fans during his time in the media platform. Later, he transitioned to self-media because he could always write sharp critical articles that attracted many… as Wang Chao put it, they were like patients with a touch of chuunibyou. The number of such people far exceeded imagination; this was Xing Conglian’s first reaction when he saw the actual number of reposts and comments.
The article mainly explained these viewpoints from the perspectives of legal principles and social contract, reflecting Zhai Yong’s consistent stance.
—This is the responsibility that the government should bear, yet the government merely shifts this responsibility onto individuals, making individuals pay the price for the government’s incompetence. Do we really want to become indirect murderers under the guise of democracy, which is, in reality, a forceful imposition of incompetence?
—Not choosing is a form of protest. It’s not cowardice but rather the optimal choice based on rational analysis.
—Let those who are desperate to make decisions decide. This matter itself doesn’t concern us that much.
These passages roughly explain these viewpoints from the perspectives of the legal system and the government’s responsibility in the social contract, which align with Zhai Yong’s consistent stance.
If Fang Aizi’s classmate, Miss Wang, were to read this article, she would undoubtedly idolize Zhai Yong. Of course, based on the timing of Zhai Yong’s previous Weibo posts in response to the sociopath, it’s also possible that Miss Wang agreed deeply with the content after reading his Weibo and then attempted to convey this viewpoint to more people.
The public opinion expert said, “Minister Shen, the situation is roughly like this. It’s possible that there are online influencers manipulating the situation, but it could also be an expression of public opinion. Based on our calculations, the growth rate of online voting has decreased by 72% compared to the previous hour. Considering the margin of error due to the time difference, we believe that this article is causing more citizens to abstain from voting. Should we take measures regarding this?” He paused for a moment and probed, “If you have a specific desired outcome, perhaps early guidance is necessary. After all… people are easily influenced.”
This statement was extremely cryptic, implying that if they didn’t take the initiative, they would indirectly hand over the initiative to the other side.
Minister Shen frowned, and Xing Conglian knew that the old man might have been full of confidence and willing to take a gamble at some point, but the higher one’s position, the less one could act on a whim. He had to bear more pressure and consider more factors.
Thus, at this moment, Xing Conglian refrained from interjecting to influence the old man’s decision.
However, at this point, the old man looked at him and said, “Conglian, this is really difficult…”
Xing Conglian could fully understand the immense pressure weighing on the old man. In a certain sense, the old man bore more responsibility than him or Lin Chen.
“He probably told you something, like predicting the trend?”
“He did.” Xing Conglian nodded.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” The old man inquired.
At this moment, Xing Conglian was genuinely puzzled about what the old man was up to. His eyes and facial expression gave away nothing, so he could only answer truthfully, “Because I didn’t want to influence your choice. You have your own considerations and judgments, and I should respect that.”
Upon hearing this, the old man lowered his head as if pondering something, his expression becoming obscure and indecipherable. Just when Xing Conglian was about to add something, the old man suddenly lifted his head and pointed at him with his thumb while addressing the public opinion expert, “Did you hear that?”
Both the expert and Xing Conglian were a bit baffled, and the expert asked, “What do you mean?”
“We always shout about respecting the people, but when it comes to a critical moment, you drop the ball, Xiao Chen. Your organizational consciousness still needs improvement.” The old man sighed lightly, speaking casually.
The strategy expert looked at the old man suddenly, feeling a sense of trepidation from the implications of his words. “Are you saying…”
“Although the world is noisy, it’s quiet late at night. The stillness of the night is so beautiful. So, we don’t have to insist on broadcasting our own foolish ideas to the world. It’s interesting to stay quiet and let everyone think for themselves, isn’t it?”
The old man finished speaking and turned towards the window.
Xing Conglian followed his line of sight and saw the vast and serene starry sky outside.
The room fell silent again.
……
Zhai Yong had irregular sleep patterns.
People like him tend to be active during the night, as that is when their thoughts flow like a spring.
It was past three in the morning when he finished reading those comments on Weibo, analyzing and organizing all the viewpoints, making notes, and preparing to counter them effectively tomorrow. Unlike those who speak for money, Zhai Yong expressed his own views and wasn’t manipulated by others.
It was already very late, or rather too early, and most of the people still engaging in online discussions at this time were probably students from different time zones. Zhai Yong found this group of people intriguing; they were often his most reliable allies and the most challenging enemies to conquer.
For example, the most popular reply to his post said:
—Teacher Zhai has always advocated democracy. Isn’t one person, one vote democratic enough? But when true democracy appears, you suddenly start hating that the government isn’t doing anything to save you. Have you ever thought that the very mechanism you disdain is at work every day, from the teachers who educate your son to the high-ranking officials who make political decisions? Their existence fundamentally helps you share various social responsibilities. Now it’s just returning some of that responsibility and returning to a more straightforward voting system, and you’re scared? How pathetic…
Initially, Zhai Yong was very angry when he saw this comment. It clearly distorted his original intentions and even the significance of his continuous effort to voice his opinions.
Regardless of the social mechanism, there is a need for people like him to speak some harsh words that may sound difficult to hear. False peace and cleanliness hold no meaning whatsoever.
This is the reason why he chose to speak today because, throughout the entire development of the event, he saw the government’s incompetence and lack of guidance. His speech was an act of taking on his social responsibility. What would those young kids who haven’t even grown a single hair understand?
With this thought in mind, Zhai Yong clicked on the image accompanying the comment. It was a screenshot from the government’s voting website.
—I will vote to support the execution of four criminals who were not previously sentenced to death to save more people.
A. Yes B. No
The person who posted the comment had chosen “Yes”.
Zhai Yong remained silent for a long time. He pushed the keyboard tray and stood up to get a glass of water.
His thin-soled indoor slippers made a soft sound on the floor as he opened the study door. To his surprise, he found someone sitting outside.
“Dad, you’re up early, or you haven’t slept yet?”
His elderly father was sitting in the living room on the leather sofa, with the television on but the volume turned down. The changing light and shadows highlighted the wrinkles on his weathered face.
Zhai Yong’s father didn’t immediately answer him, as he was still watching the TV. So, Zhai Yong took a seat next to the old man, carrying an empty glass of water. At this late hour, there were no live broadcasts on TV, only replays of daytime news.
The scene displayed was from when the clothing market in Meicun had an incident. A large number of ambulances had arrived, and customers and store owners covered in blood were helping each other evacuate. In contrast, medical personnel were moving in the opposite direction, forming a stark contrast in the flow of people.
“I went to see your Uncle Su today.” Zhai Yong’s father began speaking, putting his glasses back on from the coffee table, not as if he genuinely needed to see something clearer, but as if to conceal some true emotions.
“Principal Su?”
“Who else could it be?”
Zhai Yong had indeed heard his mother mention some issues Uncle Su was facing.
But at their age, they often heard about old friends passing away, so they had grown accustomed to such news. So at this moment, he connected the term “Uncle Su” with the old principal of Yongchuan University.
“Didn’t the news say that, due to timely discovery, the large-scale adverse reactions caused by Nao Kangning didn’t fully erupt? It only mentioned that elderly people who took the medication might have hidden safety hazards…”
Zhai Yong’s mind worked quickly, and he seemed to have finally realized the key to a person’s relationship that had been vaguely sensed but never fully understood.
“It’s clear that his good student has been causing him trouble all along. This time he was probably implicated. Xiao Cui said he was fine before going to the university.”
The old man’s tone carried a hidden anger, but more than that, it was a melancholy from being hurt by one of their own kind.
“Lin Chen is Principal Su’s student?” Zhai Yong’s mind was racing. “So, he proposed this new plan really to save President Su…”
“Who knows what that good student of his is thinking,” his father coldly interrupted him. “Based on Lin Chen’s usual approach, he wouldn’t consider his teacher’s life or death in his considerations.”
“Dad, don’t beat around the bush. What do you want to say?”
“Delete your article,” his father said straightforwardly, turning his head to look at him.
He looked at his father in disbelief. This was probably the first time his father asked him since he became an independent writer and in the media industry. And he knew it wasn’t a request; it was a plea.
“We, a few old buddies, have already contacted many friends tonight. Tomorrow morning, the media’s direction will change.” His father stood up, as if he had just finished explaining something unimportant. “If possible, I appeal to more people to vote in favor.”
The old man picked up the remote control and decisively turned off the TV, leaving Zhai Yong stunned and speechless in the living room.
As the room fell into silence, his father slowly walked away. Watching his father’s back, Zhai Yong called out, “Dad!”
“If you can call me dad, then do as I say.”
Zhai Yong stood up. “Do you really believe that as long as the majority votes in favor, this society can exchange the lives of four innocent people for the chance for more to live?”
“Stop talking about society with me. Isn’t this the democracy you advocate every day? Besides, your little knowledge of the law was taught by me, wasn’t it?”
“Dad, this isn’t democracy; it’s lynching. No, it’s even more despicable than lynching!”
“Then you tell me, what is democracy?” The old man exuded a terrifying aura, reminiscent of his days as a lawyer. “Within a certain class scope, democracy means the majority rules over the minority!”
“You are avoiding the most important question: Is it legal to execute criminals by bypassing legal provisions through a vote? This is not a nationwide vote, but only the opinions of three provinces. Even if our three provinces are independent states, we have no right to bypass legal provisions and directly determine the fate of the criminals through a vote. This approach is inherently wrong. Therefore, I believe that not voting is the right stance!”
The old man turned to look at him, his eyes almost popping out, making Zhai Yong feel as if a slap from his childhood might come at any moment.
He subconsciously closed his eyes, but the feeling of pain on his cheek never came.
When he opened his eyes again, his old father had turned back, looking at the dark night outside the window, saying nothing.
“Everyone is selfish,” his father said. “Hasn’t the law always sacrificed the minority to protect the interests of the majority?”
However, Zhai Yong walked to the window and lowered his head. In the dimly lit interior of the high-rise building, he could see the faint outline of the city in the night.
“I suddenly feel that this is indeed a good method.” Some corners of the city were still illuminated, but most places had already darkened. “You have your views, and I have my principles, but we can only represent ourselves.”
He looked at his father and said, “No matter what the outcome is, you will respect the opinions of the majority, right?”
In the boundless red light, there came the sound of space twisting and shattering behind Ge Tingting.
“I heard it.”
A voice answered Ge Tingting.
Unlike Yin Ren from the past, in that joy, there was also a hint of sadness and melancholy. It seemed like a response to Ge Tingting, as well as a response to the spirits of this land from a thousand years ago, as if traversing through time and space.
From the gap in space, countless wings surged out. Black wings enveloped Ge Tingting, Huang Jin, and Fu Xingchuan. Darkness completely wrapped around them as the healing magic swept over the three of them. Yellow Millet crawled out of Ge Tingting’s pocket and excitedly rubbed against them.
At the same time, the red light suddenly converged, transforming into numerous chains of light and instantly imprisoning Love in place.
Considering it was Sun Qi’an’s body, Zhong Chengshuo didn’t use excessive force.
Seizing the opportunity with severe injuries, Xiang Jiang and Xiang Hai disregarded everything and burrowed into the endless debris underground.
In such a critical situation, they dared not divert their attention and could only focus all their energy on Love.
Yin Ren also bent down, gazing at Love within the red chains. Currently, most of its original essence was missing. It couldn’t summon the white space, and its usable magic was limited. However, it was still capable of taking Sun Qi’an’s body down with it. Love was adept at scheming and wasn’t an object to let one’s guard down against.
Within the chains, Love merely stood there.
At the end of the road, Love neither resisted nor pleaded. It simply stood quietly in its place, with a hint of surprise in its eyes, as if witnessing a child’s mischief.
Facing the endless red chains and swirling red veils, it tilted its head slightly.
“Go ahead,” Love said.
Yin Ren didn’t move. To eradicate Love now, the body would have to be destroyed along with it.
“Indeed, you still care about this human.” Love gradually revealed a smile.
It stood up straighter, revealing the human body stained with blood.
“I know what kind of person you are, perhaps even clearer than those humans.” Seeing that Yin Ren didn’t attack, Love spoke softly. “You came to deal with me not for the sake of human righteousness, but because I hurt your lover, I hurt your friends… Yin Ren, you’re really easy to see through.”
“You won’t kill the innocent Sun Qi’an.”
Her voice remained gentle, as if engaging in a casual conversation.
“Or would you pass this dirty work onto someone else? No, if you were to do it, you would definitely do it yourself… Hmm, then I can consider it a small victory for myself.”
Either spare her, the enemy of humanity, and give up on pursuing past grievances, or kill the innocent friend and stain his own hands with blood. Either way, Yin Ren couldn’t achieve a complete victory—he would live carrying the curse called “guilt” until the day he died.
This was a game that carried a thousand years of planning, and conceding midway wasn’t Love’s style.
It patiently waited for Yin Ren’s decision; its movements relaxed. It was as if it wasn’t facing life and death itself, but the frozen figures of Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo.
At this point in the situation, it was just unfortunate. Even if its physical body perished, its spirit hadn’t been defeated.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Yin Ren remained silent for a long time before finally speaking, his tone strangely calm.
“I stand here for my ideals.” Love’s tone was calm. “What I seek is a higher righteousness, not petty selfishness… I have envisioned countless outcomes long ago, so why should I be afraid?”
Just like when they first met, Sun Qi’an’s hair had a slight curl, and her features were incredibly gentle.
But the expression on that face didn’t belong to the respectable young doctor, no matter how he looked at it.
“I see.”
There was a chilling hint of laughter in Yin Ren’s voice.
“Then I can rest assured.”
No, this wasn’t the attitude it anticipated. Love calculated quickly in its mind.
Before it could make sense of it, suddenly the chains wrapped around it, cocooning it completely, and the surroundings rapidly changed—
The space flickered, and an entrance opened. Ge Tingting, Huang Jin, and Fu Xingchuan were sent back to the pedestrian street. The three of them were carried by the excited Yellow Millet as they quickly searched for Professor Li’s location.
The space flickered again, and this time the exit was pitch black.
It was like stepping out of a swimming pool. As everyone stood on solid ground, their bodies suddenly became heavy. The gap behind the three of them quickly closed. The red light from the chains illuminated the surroundings, and Love lifted its eyes.
This was a space of about forty square meters, with no windows in the room; only shelves filled with bottles and jars on both sides. There was a whiteboard hanging on the wall directly across from the door with countless articles, photos, and messages suspended connected by spiderweb-like red thread.
The secret base of the “King Yama”.
From the Other Side to the human world, Zhong Chengshuo’s lantern remained lit. The crimson chains tightly bound Love’s hands and feet, firmly restraining it in the interrogation chair.
Yin Ren also regained his human appearance. He swung a strand of long hair like a cat’s tail, and the tip became extremely sharp. “Zhong Ge, you’re in charge of lighting control of Fear. I’ll take care of the rest.”
This person, who had changed from his previous silence, seemed eager and full of joy.
Love: “…?”
“Okay.” Zhong Chengshuo also regained his human appearance and nodded earnestly. He hung the Karma Lantern high up, muttering, “The Evil Fruit can sterilize, so this thing should work too. Let’s consider it a sterile environment.”
He jogged to the nearest drawer and pulled out two pairs of sterile gloves. With a swish, a cloth roll containing various ominous instruments unfolded in front of Love.
Love: “…???”
“That’ll do.” After fussing for a while, Zhong Chengshuo finally spoke up.
The two “gods” put on their masks and wore sterile gowns as they carefully disinfected the surroundings. Even Yin Ren’s little wing blades were sprayed with alcohol several times. The light from the Karma Lantern above their heads was extremely bright, like a scorching sun, and the liquid-like light spread over everything, leaving no trace of shadows.
Suddenly being removed from the familiar environment and completely suppressed by the light of Fear, Love found it difficult to breathe. It tentatively tried to move its physical body, but it found that under the authority of Fear, its movements were extremely sluggish.
These two people wouldn’t be thinking of connecting it to a Karma Lantern and using the power of Fear to continuously restrain and imprison it in the human world, would they?
…But why did they put on sterile surgical gowns?
“I’m ready. Are you sure you don’t need more support? Like blood bags or something.” Yin Ren ignored the question marks on Love’s face and nodded to Zhong Chengshuo.
“I have experienced the fusion of Primordial Elementals through my body, and I have a clear understanding of treating Meiqiu as well,” Zhong Chengshuo answered solemnly. “I’m confident.”
“As expected of my Zhong Ge.” Flapping his little wings behind the mask, Yin Ren blew a kiss to Zhong Chengshuo.
The latter’s ears flushed, and he lowered his head, picking up a knife.
“You… What are you…?” Love struggled to squeeze out a voice from its throat.
“Earlier, we were worried that you might be so eager to survive that you would merge with Dr. Sun’s body regardless of everything,” Yin Ren cheerfully explained.
“But since you’re so obsessed with ‘righteousness’, you definitely don’t want to meld with a weak product. Well, it’s unfortunate. I can see through you too.”
In the end, Love was just a part of human nature.
Currently, Love’s body was damaged, its power weak, and Dr. Sun was a genuine ordinary human. As long as Love still desired a comeback, it would never leave Dr. Sun’s body and would never fully devour Dr. Sun’s consciousness.
Sun Qi’an was its best hostage and would only be a temporary vessel for it.
“Unfortunately, my dear Zhong Ge here has been studying the Other Side and the Primordial Elementals and has quite a bit of knowledge about the human brain.” Yin Ren’s gaze swept over a row of metal cans on the shelf. “Although I’m nothing special, my expertise over the centuries lies in sealing techniques.”
Love gradually began to understand. Fear finally appeared on its usually calm face.
“…So we are the best accomplices.” Another voice took over.
As if sensing the fear in Love, Zhong Chengshuo’s pupils suddenly dilated, and his two eyeballs turned into pitch-black “god eyes” once again. He leaned closer to Love’s head, sniffed it, and then turned on the recording device—
“Sealing a Primordial Elemental in the designated part of the human body—this is a new technique. Cooperation is required between experienced science posts and cultivators skilled in sealing techniques.” Zhong Chengshuo enunciated each word clearly and deliberately.
“The operation starts now.” Yin Ren supplemented in a tone similar to Zhong Chengshuo’s.
The knife cut through the skin, followed by powerful healing magic. Layers of sealing techniques piled up, and the surgical knife moved swiftly and sharply. Love’s perception gradually disappeared.
Colors faded away, and its vision became nothingness. Sounds receded, and the surrounding noises became sporadic and muffled, as if separated by a layer of water film. Even the perception of emotions gradually faded away.
“Sealing preparation complete; guide me a bit. I need to avoid those blood vessels and nerves… Yes, just like that,” Yin Ren said.
“There is a certain risk in sealing it into ordinary organs,” Zhong Chengshuo muttered. “Sun Qi’an has a tumor in her brain. What can your sealing technique accomplish?”
Yin Ren’s tone became proud. “Hmph, a complete seal; not a single drop leaks.”
“Let me think… The tumor cells can’t withstand the power of the Primordial Elemental. By sealing it over there, the tumor won’t grow anymore.” Zhong Chengshuo’s voice softened a little. “It’s a good choice, and if necessary, we can remove it as well.”
“Cut it off now!”
“No, the brain requires specialized expertise. My surgical skills aren’t sufficient.” Zhong Chengshuo’s voice tightened again as he spoke.
“…I see.”
Love desperately wanted to merge with Sun Qi’an’s body but was pinned in place by the light of Fear. It wanted to speak, but it realized that it had lost control over its tongue and vocal cords. Like being caught in a tight spot, all its senses quickly turned into nothingness.
It knew that its remaining body was being sealed layer by layer by Yin Ren and guided by Zhong Chengshuo to merge into that tumor. Once the fusion was complete, there would be no possibility of returning to its original state… and it would be unable to perceive anything anymore.
[Zhong Chengshuo has been trapped like this for hundreds of years, while you would have at most a few decades.] It couldn’t hear the sound, and only Yin Ren’s thoughts came through. [A few decades later, you will enter the incinerator along with this body. After all, human life is too short for an Elemental, but you got a bargain.]
Love wanted to respond, to negotiate, but it didn’t know where to direct its thoughts.
Its world was reduced to emptiness.
[I can probably understand your motives, but personally, I don’t approve of your actions.] This time, it was Zhong Chengshuo’s thoughts that came through. [Unfortunately, our positions will always be different.]
Old Fear spoke like so.
[…Farewell.]
In the end, they didn’t let it go, nor did they kill it. Instead, they chose a third path; a path that it never thought existed.
Perception completely vanished, and Love suddenly recalled the moment thousands of years ago when Fear heavily fell, with countless Elemental flesh and blood splattering and all sorts of demons and monsters running rampant in the Gong Dynasty. Many years later, the red-robed Great Celestial Master walked alone through the desolate mountains and hills, carrying corruption. Enduring the pain, that person developed the first sealing technique specifically targeting Evil Force.
Perhaps everything had been predetermined since that time.
With a soft sigh, Love left its final trace in the emptiness. It could never see what would become of the Other Side.
What awaited it was boundless silence and a subtle but lingering sense of fear.
……
While the two gods were performing the sealing surgery, the war on the Other Side raged on.
However, with Love gone for too long, the army of Elementals began to show signs of confusion. The Elementals had simple minds to begin with, and now that Love’s presence was absent, many great Elementals saw the situation wasn’t favorable and quietly slipped away.
In the center of the White Web, the deflated giant hemisphere gradually dissipated, and the White Web itself quickly decayed, turning into a dense white mist.
“Your master is finished!” Meng Huai sneered. “Shen Mo, if you have any sense left, surrender—”
“It’s not my “master’.”
Shen Mo’s voice came from behind Meng Huai, and in the next moment, Meng Huai was swept away by a swipe of his arm.
“It was just a useful knife, but unfortunately, still not good enough.” Contempt was evident in his tone.
Shen Mo dodged by tilting his head back, and the magical spells floating around him exploded towards Meng Huai. This attack was slightly delayed, and Meng Huai’s flesh and blood magic barely managed to block it, narrowly avoiding a facial explosion.
The sneak attack failed, and with a flash, Shen Mo appeared in the distance. Just as he regained his footing, Zhong Chengfeng’s sniping attacks came one after another. Shen Mo grabbed a nearby small Elemental and used it to block several bullets.
Meng Huai gasped for breath and kept on mocking. “You have such a big knife that can pierce through the heavens. What’s wrong? Your knife is gone, and here you are flapping around like a dog… Trying to stay in shape?”
“The corruption is still rampant outside, and people’s hearts are uncertain.” Shen Mo took a few steps back and hid behind another Elemental. “If I kill you all, those survivors will be mine.”
“Fuck you!” Meng Huai immediately cursed.
Shen Mo’s plan was about to fall apart—those civilians who had been missing for thirty years hadn’t aged a day. If they were thrown directly into society, it would undoubtedly cause a huge uproar. When the time came, Shen Mo would step forward and claim this “miracle”, and it would be difficult for Shian and the government to explain.
This person’s Charon ability was already suitable for deceiving and manipulating as a false god. It wouldn’t be impossible for him to start a cult. Sunken Society was insane, but its goals were mostly worldly wealth and power, and its level of danger was somewhat controllable. Shen Mo, on the other hand, was a complete lunatic who didn’t see people as people. Who knows what he would do?
Teest had changed into a hotel robe—a linen nightgown that just went past his knees. Nol wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but he felt Teest was somewhat gloating.
Who said he couldn’t manipulate dreams? He could figure it out! But thinking of the starting cost of the spell being 200 MP, Nol quickly compromised. “I can’t, and I’m not a succubus.”
“Then lie down quickly. Just holding hands will suffice.” Teest quickly took the left side of the bed, letting his long hair spread across a pillow.
Nol changed into the same kind of nightwear and climbed onto the bed with a bitter expression.
From infancy to adulthood, he had never shared a bed with anyone. With the added weight of another person on the bed, no matter how he lay, it felt awkward.
Both of them lay on their backs, with Teest’s left hand tightly holding Nol’s right hand. The curtains were drawn, surrounding them in darkness. Their body warmth was seemingly the only thing present.
The undead didn’t need sleep, just as some people didn’t need a nap—it was fine without it, but napping wasn’t bad either.
Nol closed his eyes, trying hard to feel drowsy.
“Haha.” Teest suddenly chuckled in the dark.
The sleepiness that Nol had just caught vanished. “Why are you laughing?”
“It’s like going back to being three years old.” Teest’s voice was filled with amusement. “I kind of miss my childhood.”
Nol: “…Alright, goodnight, little knight.”
The room returned to silence, which lasted less than two minutes—
“Pfft!” This time, it was Nol who laughed.
Teest: “What are you laughing at now?”
“I just thought of sea otters,” Nol said. “Did you know? They lie back on the water’s surface and sleep holding hands.”
Teest: “……”
Teest tried hard to stifle his laughter. “…Then goodnight, dear Mr. Sea Otter.”
With the atmosphere lightened, Nol relaxed, and he quickly fell asleep.
……
He was running.
No, she was running. Nol couldn’t feel Teest’s presence. His telepathic connection was also gone. He was experiencing some memories from Hannah’s first-person perspective.
Hannah ran through the forest, her feet touching the soft grass. Her emotions were almost blank, with fleeting scenes flashing in her mind—
Margaret Swain hid in an abandoned wooden house with a smile that was pure and genuine.
“I still wanted to see you,” she said. “You’re my little sister.”
“I’m the older one,” Hannah corrected. “Enough, Maggie. Now you know you’re not blood related. We’re both children of slaves. The City Lord must have bought you willingly.”
Hannah lowered her voice, and her tone became a bit harsh. “He hid the truth from you, dyed your hair black, and made everyone believe you’re his biological daughter. If he found out about me now—your twin sister—can you guess what he’d do?”
“Daddy won’t hurt you,” Margaret said. “When I realized our relationship, I was indeed a bit upset. But even without blood ties, Daddy has always been particularly good to me. He loves me.”
Hannah looked into those green eyes, identical to her own.
They differed in hair color, physique, and clothing, but the biggest difference was in their eyes—Margaret’s eyes were open and clear. She seemed to trust everyone.
“He always buys me the best things, hires the best tutors, never gets angry with me… Oh, the last time I got sick, he stayed by my bed all night and even made cream soup.”
“What you said—if I had a puppy, I could do all that for it too,” Hannah responded unhappily.
“Our grandmother used to tell us that there are only three kinds of love in the world—love for pets, love for gods, and finally, love for people. Often, these three kinds of love seem the same…”
Margaret interrupted her, “I’m not a pet! So tell me, how should I prove it to you?”
“You can’t,” Hannah replied. “Rather than worrying about this, think about what you’d do if he betrays you.”
Margaret opened her mouth, a hint of anger flashing across her face, but she quickly suppressed it.
“I didn’t come here to cause trouble.” Her expression turned serious. “Listen, Hannah, I want to save Little Spoon.”
Hannah looked up abruptly.
“I know she’s very ill. Tom told me. She needs a doctor—a regular one won’t do. She needs our family’s doctor. I must ask Daddy for help.”
Hannah didn’t make a sound. She wanted to say that Little Spoon would make it through, but she wasn’t sure. Just like she wasn’t sure if the City Lord was a “good person”. What if she got it wrong?
“Daddy loves the desserts from the Egret Restaurant the most,” Margaret continued, her expression a bit mischievous. “Lately, he’s been busy outside. I had someone deliver it to him, and he would definitely be thrilled. Then I’ll jump out and give him a surprise.”
“When the time comes, I’ll introduce Little Spoon to him. I’ll tell him she helped me a lot before, and Daddy will treat her illness.”
Hannah bit her lip, pondered for a long time, and finally nodded.
“Trust me, Little Spoon will be fine.” Margaret smiled again.
A wave of emotion suddenly overwhelmed Hannah. She felt anticipation, confusion, joy, and worry simultaneously.
“Why go to such lengths?” she asked. “It’s better for both of us to end this relationship. I won’t pester you… Little Spoon doesn’t even like you.”
“I know your friends always disappear. Daddy must be very distressed. As the heir to the City Lord, this is what I should do.”
“I also know, they’re more like family to you. You’d do anything for them.” Margaret kept smiling and continued, “…As Margaret, I’d do anything for my family too.”
Naive, innocent Margaret Swain.
The City Lord could easily see through her little tricks. She’d likely fail, Hannah thought.
“Thank you,” Hannah said, looking at that smiling face and suppressing her suspicions.
Nol sighed in his heart.
[If the Demon Lord hadn’t killed Young Kurt in front of me, and Maggie happened to witness it, I wouldn’t need to deal with the Investigation Knights at all. Do you know how troublesome it was to deal with Margaret? She’s my heir.]
The errand boy from the Egret Restaurant, Young Kurt, and the Margaret who wanted to surprise her father… Now it all made sense.
They were at the wrong place at the worst possible time.
……
Hannah continued to run in the dark forest, her feet stepping on vein-like tree roots. She gasped for breath, tasting the metallic flavor of blood in her throat.
A void of emotions gradually filled with panic. She was sweating profusely, but her insides felt cold.
Her memories continued to play back.
Just as Hannah guessed, on the promised introduction day, Margaret didn’t show up. Fortunately, she had given them enough money, and Little Spoon barely survived.
What Hannah didn’t expect was to see Margaret next at the Evergreen Church entrance.
After so many days, Margaret looked much thinner. Her hair was messy, and her nightgown was dirty. Guards blocked the view of the public while maids held Margaret, dragging her away from the church’s main door.
“Miss Swain is undergoing mental treatment,” they explained.
Margaret struggled desperately, looking at the church. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.
“The City Lord is truly pitiful.” The people sighed. “How did his lovely daughter go mad?”
“He really dotes on her. Everyone knows that when Miss Swain was sick last time, the City Lord personally watched over her and even cooked cream soup.”
“Please don’t discuss this in public,” the guards instructed the church personnel proficiently. “Miss Swain is only fourteen. It’s not good for this to get out.”
Margaret froze in place. Everyone knew her father was the City Lord, and this was his city.
She looked at the church doors again, suddenly bit her tongue, and with a magical glow, formed a sentence in the air with her blood—
[I saw the Mad Monk.]
After doing all this, Margaret noticed Hannah in the crowd.
She smiled weakly, her green eyes hollow and terrifying. Then she mouthed words clearly.
[Pet.]
[Betrayal.]
[Run.]
But Hannah didn’t run.
She waited anxiously near the City Lord’s mansion day and night, unsure of what she was waiting for.
Margaret couldn’t have just gone mad; something was wrong with the City Lord. Hannah thought of seeking help, but who could she turn to? The local church close to the City Lord? Or the City Lord’s guards?
At best, since Margaret was the heir to the City Lord, her death would need confirmation from the Investigation Knights. As long as she didn’t resist, the City Lord wouldn’t easily kill her.
‘Please give up,’ Hannah prayed.
No matter what, first survive.
Yet her naive sister persisted. One night, Margaret, with an injured leg, tried to crawl out of the mansion gate. Her eyes were disturbingly determined, like a bird crashing into a cage.
This time, the City Lord didn’t drag her back to the mansion.
“This girl knows magic. The night is long and fraught with dreams*. We need to deal with her early,” the City Lord said irritably. “Let it be known she went mad, ran into the forest, and was attacked by wild beasts. Just like that.”
*(夜长梦多) Idiom referring to a long delay may give rise to trouble.
Margaret remained unusually calm. She allowed the guards to push and shove her, walking step by step away from the city and towards the forest.
Hannah could only follow from a distance.
She watched as they reached the depths of the forest and as they released the hungry monsters. Margaret fell to the ground, her entire left leg torn off in an instant.
One of the guards seemed to hesitate. His hand resting on his sword twitched, but a glance from the City Lord stopped him.
“She must be eaten alive by the beasts, not merely have her corpse gnawed at. The Investigation Knights can tell the difference.”
Blood flowed, soaking the fallen leaves a dark red. Perhaps due to some magic, Margaret didn’t scream. The only sound was the chewing of flesh.
Hannah collapsed among the bushes, her vision darkening. When she finally came to, everything was over.
Margaret… Only Margaret’s bloodied head and a portion of her torso remained. Her black hair was covered in blood and mud. Her eyes were half-open, with the corner of her mouth still holding a faint smile.
The heir to the City Lord had disappeared, and the Investigation Knights would be arriving soon.
Hannah finally realized Margaret’s intention. Whether it was her public claim of “seeing the Mad Monk” or her submission to death, she simply wanted to attract the Investigation Knights—a more powerful, neutral external force.
Naive, innocent Margaret.
The City Lord was clearly prepared, and your sacrifice was in vain.
…Yet, people always couldn’t help but do meaningless things. Hannah reached out her trembling hands towards the corpse.
……
Hannah ran into the deepest part of the forest. Her clothes were torn by thorns, her shoes were gone, and the soles of her feet bled without stopping. She didn’t know where she was. She just knew to head towards the darkest, most mysterious place.
In Hannah’s arms, Margaret’s remains were frighteningly light.
Exhaustion and despair intermingled. Hannah had only one thought left.
The oldest woman in the street used to tell the street kids that there were three kinds of love. She also told them that a terrifying witch lived deep in the forest.
Margaret had died not long ago, and her body was still warm.
Humans couldn’t save her, but what about monsters?
Her sprint became a brisk walk, which then turned into a stagger. Finally, Hannah found her destination. A decaying wooden hut, surrounded by parts of broken dolls. There was a faint light shining from its windows.
“Help!” she shouted with the last of her strength, banging on the door. “Help! Open the door!”
Silence from within.
“I’ll give you anything—my soul, my life, anything!”
Unable to stand any longer, Hannah slid down the door. “Esteemed One, I beg you. Please save her…”
She clutched the remains of her loved one, pleading until her voice became hoarse. Still, silence from within. Her foolish efforts seemed to have no results.
“It’s my fault… It’s me… If she hadn’t met me, she wouldn’t have ended up like this…”
She mumbled deliriously, finally choking back sobs in the vast darkness.
“Please save my sister. I beg you…”
Creak.
The door opened to reveal a doll that looked very much like a real person. She gazed down emotionlessly at Hannah’s tear-streaked face.
“How long has she been dead?” the doll asked.
“Not-not more than an hour…”
“Alright.” The doll—the Puppet Witch sighed. “Come in. I can save her.”
The tension left Hannah’s body. Before she could stand, she was dragged into the darkness by fatigue and blood loss.
‘Enough,’ Nol thought. He could guess what happened next.
[Puppet Legacy: Convert a female human NPC into a Puppet Witch. The converted must be alive or have died within 90 minutes.
※Unique skill of the Puppet Witch. Can only be used once.]
No wonder the City Lord was certain of Margaret’s death, yet the witch remained silent.
No wonder Hannah was reluctant to interact with the Investigation Knights. She wanted to protect not just Witch Lynn…
…But also a newly born monster, Witch Margaret.
Nol opened his eyes, looking at the inn’s ceiling. He found they were sore and filled with tears. They were Hannah’s emotions that hadn’t dissipated yet.
“It’s normal. I was also confused by these emotions at first.” Teest turned to the side without letting go of his grip. “Speaking of which, it’s my first time seeing a Lich cry.”
“What a coincidence, it’s my first time seeing it too,” Nol said with a hoarse voice.
“Do you need a hug?”
“I’m fine.”
“Alright, now we know the truth.” Teest finally let go of Nol’s hand and yawned. “Goodnight again, crying Lord Lich.”
With that, he turned over, facing away from Nol.
In just a few minutes, a cold sensation touched Teest’s neck and shoulder—Nol curled up, gently pressing his forehead against Teest’s back.
Teest pretended to be asleep and didn’t break the silence.
Sure enough, he knew something would go wrong! True to the reputation of a cult, even a phone call had to be made with a secret code. This was way too ceremonial.
Nol quickly regained his composure. He had limited knowledge about the Eternal Church and naturally considered the possibility of being exposed—as long as the target was alive, the plan wouldn’t be dead. Rather than switching from Plan A to Plan Z, Nol preferred to treat it as a flexible game.
[Don’t make a move yet,] he instructed Teest mentally.
Teest clicked his tongue loudly inside Nol’s mind.
“Do you respond to every gesture of a subordinate?”
Nol tried to use his most sinister voice. “Besides, I can tell you still doubt me. Why not use that girl to prove it?”
Lord Swain looked at him deeply. “Thank you for your understanding.”
The Lord’s close aide quickly brought the child. The little girl, as skinny as a chick, couldn’t break free from the grasp of the aide. From the newsboy cap and overalls she wore, it was obvious it was the street urchin Hannah.
Nol: “……” Kid, why is it always you?
On the way to the City Lord’s mansion, he and Teest were extremely cautious, making sure no one was following them. It seemed that Hannah’s tracking a few days ago wasn’t to monitor them, but she seemed more interested in the case itself.
[Interesting, what are you planning to do?] Teest asked with interest.
[Prepare the spell to conceal our presence,] Nol responded calmly. [I need your cooperation.]
[You’ve finally decided to confront this guy?]
[No. I’ll perform a trick for you first.] Nol flexed his fingers, silently preparing his spell.
Hannah suppressed the tremble in her body and bared her teeth at Nol, the “huge monster”. Her green eyes were wide open, full of hatred and fear.
“Fuck you! Monsters!” she cursed hoarsely. “Pussy liars, murderers, you all will meet a bad end!”
As Hannah cursed, she nervously looked around, trying to find a way out.
“This is my gift to you,” Lord Swain finally regained control and said politely. “Would you like me to kill her, or will you do it?”
Nol didn’t answer. He just stretched out his right hand and gently pulled.
Hannah, as if grasped by an invisible hand, was forced to walk step by step towards Nol. She screamed in both fear and anger, flapping her limbs like the final struggle of a drowning person.
Sadly, her struggles were in vain.
A cold wind swirled in the room, billowing Nol’s cloak, its tattered hem rolling incessantly. Like a vampire, Nol opened his cloak and wrapped Hannah inside, then tightened his arms across his chest.
Given the difference in their sizes, it was a terrifying embrace. A sinister light shone around the cloak, and the aura of death permeated. To Lord Swain, it seemed not to be a living being but an evil god.
The girl’s struggles and curses ceased. The cold wind dissipated, and Nol silently released the cloak.
There was a crisp sound. Ribs scattered, the skull bounced, leg bones rolled away—a child’s skeleton fell to the ground, shapeless.
The bones were pale and clean. Next to the scattered bones, the masked monster looked up, with blue flames flickering in its eye sockets.
Such a void death, Lord Swain didn’t even smell the blood.
When did the church get such a strange character? Or was it that he was too low-level before to encounter…? Either way, he couldn’t afford to offend this creature. For what’s to come, he would need him… or it.
Lord Swain, who had just straightened up, bent down again quietly.
“I like this gift,” Nol whispered. “Want to continue testing, Swain? Or do you want a polite embrace too?”
Swain swallowed hard. “My apologies, My Lord. Please give me a chance to make up for it.”
Got him! Nol sighed in relief internally.
Behind Nol, Teest was holding the unconscious girl, almost laughing out loud. The moment he embraced Hannah, Nol had relayed the plan into his mind. If Teest didn’t know Nol’s tricks, he might have been stunned too.
…The sequence of moves by Mr. Mage was comically terrifying.
Telekinesis, a life-class spell: Consumes 20 MP; moves objects within 100 kg over a short distance; only used for non-living targets.
So, while the girl was pulled over—Hannah couldn’t be the target, but her clothes could.
Cool breeze, a life-class spell: Consumes 10 MP; releases a cold wind within a radius of 1 meter around oneself; the cold wind lasts for 10 seconds and has no attack power.
Players would call it the “mage’s air conditioner”. Nol used it to set the atmosphere and cover his actions.
In the flutter of the black robe, Teest quickly grabbed Hannah from inside the robe, knocking her unconscious. His movements were incredibly smooth. The aura of the “Fallen Knight” disappeared, and Nol’s invisibility spell took effect at the same time, successfully hiding the girl.
Finally, there was the necromancer summoning, Nol’s original spell. Accompanied by a dim glow, he summoned the skeleton of a 13- or 14-year-old girl.
According to Nol, these skeletons weren’t even standard skeleton soldiers. They had no combat power, and their intelligence was limited. But when they heard that they were helping peers of the same age, they responded particularly positively.
Nol chose the best actor among them.
It was hard to imagine that someone could combine these seemingly weak spells to be so terrifying.
A good trick, Teest thought. It was indeed more interesting and safer than directly attacking the City Lord. This Lich was more dangerous and… more entertaining than he imagined.
What could Mr. Mage do if he wasn’t suppressed by a curse? Teest became a bit curious.
“Little girl, tell me, should I show him some sincerity?”
In a corner invisible to Nol, Teest leaned down and mouthed words to the unconscious Hannah.
“Like… um, consider him a half-friend.”
……
Before Hannah opened her eyes, she smelled a sweet scent.
She found herself lying on a large soft bed, with floral fragrances coming from the window. In Hannah’s memory, it was still night, but now the bed was covered with morning sunlight.
Fortunately, she was still wearing her clothes from yesterday. There was no pain, and all her limbs were intact. The moment she opened her eyes, Hannah instinctively jumped up and leaned against the wall.
Across from her, Nol was holding peaches boiled in sugar water, while Teest was busy packing things in the room—to say he was packing, he only had one backpack.
“The City Lord thinks you’re dead, so it’s best to lie down for another two days and not rush out.” Nol placed the peaches on the bedside table.
Hannah looked at Nol in a daze. Nol sighed and made a horn gesture on his head.
“That’s me. I used a little disguise trick,” he said. “We knew there was something wrong with the City Lord, so we had to take action.”
Hannah opened her mouth, then sniffled hard, holding back her tears.
“Thank you,” she said with a heavy nasal voice.
After packing his backpack, Teest gently sat next to the bed.
“You’d better not frequently see the witch. It’s clear that you care about the disappearance case. I guess you have some clues. You don’t want to inform the Temple because you fear implicating the witch, right?”
Hannah shifted backward, clearly wary of the cunning of the old. “We are very careful.”
“Really? I suspect the Investigation Knights are monitoring all exits from the city. They didn’t act before simply because you are children,” Teest said. “Everyone knows that the Eternal Church doesn’t use children as couriers.”
Nol was amazed. This must be the ruthlessness of hardcore Players, interrogating an underage girl who just woke up.
“You, Margaret Swain, and that puppet witch.”
Teest’s gaze was focused. His golden eyes that in the sunlight, seemed devoid of warmth. They no longer looked like gold but resembled dead leaves.
“How are you all connected… Ouch!”
Before Teest could finish, he was pulled into Nol’s arms.
“Sorry, Miss Hannah.” Nol gripped the struggling Teest, gritting his teeth with a smile. “This guy’s emotional intelligence fluctuates a lot, and he’s currently at a low point.”
“It’s not like—” Teest awkwardly tried to break free, his voice muffled by Nol’s chest.
Watching the two bicker, Hannah relaxed a little. After a few moments, her viciousness returned.
“Since you risked your lives to save me, I can tell you about Margaret. I don’t like owing favors.”
She made certain that they treated her as a human before cautiously providing information. It was very likely that Witch Lynn taught her this.
“I have something to say.” Teest struggled restlessly against Nol’s chest. “Let go of me first—”
Nol reluctantly released him. “Be gentle.”
“Your account may not be trustworthy. I want to look directly into your mind,” Teest said.
Nol: “……”
Such a gentle remark; he shouldn’t have let this guy go.
“Of course, I mean using magic to see. You just need to fall asleep normally.” Sensing Nol’s piercing gaze, Teest explained.
[I will use “Dream Manipulation.”] He added telepathically.
Nol: “…?! “
His astonishment was evident.
Wait, brother, how do you have a succubus’s skill?
Dream Manipulation, an exclusive skill of the succubus, could only be used on intelligent humanoid beings.
If the target was unsuspecting, the user could enter the target’s dream, retrieve their memories, or control the content of the dream. Even if the target was awake, “Dream Manipulation” could create suggestions or illusions. The higher the target’s affection for the user, the easier it was to be influenced.
But Players couldn’t even choose the succubus race. Though Teest had the looks, he seemed entirely human.
[Before being cursed, I acquired this ability through… certain means.] Realizing Nol was about to find his succubus tail, Teest moved away a bit.
Is there such a method? Nol pondered.
Whether it was a Player or a human NPC, they couldn’t acquire monster skills; hence, they needed to form contracts with monsters.
Considering the quest AI had gone haywire and R18G quests were available, receiving some bizarre rewards wasn’t impossible. Moreover, “Dream Manipulation” wasn’t too extraordinary; some black magic could produce similar effects…
[Let’s go with Dream Manipulation.] Nol decided to accept reality.
……
No, he didn’t want to accept it.
In the dead of night, in front of the double bed, Nol suddenly understood how Teest felt when being “proposed to”—Do we really have to do this? What’s it all for?
Hannah was a young girl, so the two adult males should avoid suspicion. Now that Hannah was sleeping in Teest’s bedroom, Teest naturally had to spend the night in Nol’s room.
And also…
“To bring you into a dream, we both need to be asleep, and I need to have physical contact with you… There’s no other way since you can’t do ‘Dream Manipulation’,” Teest explained with a shrug.
The author has something to say:
Teest: Hmm, half-friends, let’s add a little succubus shock.
Nol: (Pupils frantically quaking)
Hahaha, the great Miss Hannah will have a bedroom all to herself. The two of you should sleep in the same room. It’s against the law for couples not to—
————————————
Many years later.
Teest: I just thought of something.
Nol: Hmm?
Teest: Back then, in the eyes of Lord Swain, did you eat Hannah’s clothes, shoes, and everything in her pockets…
As a place where the government managed prisoners, it should naturally have a well-regulated routine, much like a psychiatric hospital.
Late into the night, the television broadcast news with a low hum. It was already midnight, and the voting had been ongoing for four hours. In the room where Lin Chen and Shen Lian were having their conversation, the LCD TV continuously displayed the voting results, while Lin Chen kept on drinking water.
During this time, many other news events occurred across different locations. For instance, there was a collective student protest against the arbitrary execution of criminals, and a big fight broke out among powerful inmates in the dark room of Min River No. 1 Prison, which eventually ended with Inspector Huang intervening to break it up.
However, overall, nothing major occurred that night that could overshadow the opening of the voting.
But perhaps due to the lateness of the hour, the voting pace slowed down, and some minor fluctuations appeared. The government’s official website still maintained a high ratio of 1:4, and no one was surprised by this result.
According to a certain statistician, when the sample size was larger, the data tended to stabilize. In other words, by the time one-sixth of the voting time had passed, the final result could be determined with a high degree of certainty.
Shen Lian wasn’t surprised by this outcome. Although she didn’t know the exact ratio that the final result would have, she knew that most people would choose to sacrifice the lives of the four criminals to obtain the antidote, which would save more people. The overwhelming majority would support this decision.
So, what she was most curious about now was what Lin Chen was up to.
“Do you know, Consultant Lin…” She suddenly spoke, causing Lin Chen to pause in his action of holding the water cup.
During this period, their roles seemed to have reversed. She became the one constantly talking and asking questions, while Lin Chen had taken a folding stool, propped himself up on the back of a chair, and was dozing lightly.
Lin Chen raised his eyelids slightly to look at her. His face was extremely pale, showing signs of mental exhaustion.
“You’re thirsty and keep wanting to drink water. It’s also a form of acute withdrawal reaction,” she told Lin Chen.
Lin Chen gave a slight smile, tapping the glass with his fingertips, and his smile seemed forced. “Well then, why don’t you cooperate and give me the antidote so I can rest?”
“Tsk.” Shen Lian chuckled happily. “No way, I find this version of you quite cute. Weren’t you full of confidence earlier?”
Lin Chen coaxed her like one would to a little girl. “I’m still very confident.”
Shen Lian frowned and said, “I really suspect now that you wanted to kill those four people from the beginning to get the antidote. When you guys get ruthless, it’s sometimes even more brutal than us.”
Lin Chen tapped the glass with his fingertips and made a crisp sound. He suddenly looked at her earnestly, his pitch-black eyes full of inquiry. “You always use ‘you guys’ and ‘we’ to separate the human species. What basis do you have for doing that?”
“Huh?” Shen Lian felt surprised. “Wasn’t it ‘you guys’ who separated ‘us’ in the first?”
“That sounds like a tongue twister.” Lin Chen shook his head.
“Criminologists have spent hundreds, even thousands of years studying why a person becomes a criminal, from the earliest phrenology to the present genetic determinism. Aren’t they making great efforts to identify potential criminals?”
“That’s just humans exploring the unknown about themselves,” Lin Chen said.
His face was calm, and this attitude irritated Shen Lian. “Yeah, just like studying human diseases. We need to correct, treat, and, if necessary, remove the parts. You guys treat us as… What exactly do you see ‘us’ as? You already know in your hearts!”
“What do you think it is, hm?” Lin Chen asked rhetorically.
Shen Lian suddenly choked, finding herself unable to come up with the right adjective at the moment.
“Potential criminals, objects that must be eliminated?” Lin Chen struggled to pull the clothes covering his legs and turned to point at the television. “So now, I’ve selected four real criminals. In a more extreme situation, you can see what we really consider you guys to be.”
Although Lin Chen was as weak as an addict, he still spoke so firmly that it left Shen Lian wondering where his confidence came from. “It’s 1:4, bud. You can’t possibly win!”
“In your eyes, what does my so-called winning mean?” It was at this moment that Lin Chen seemed to grasp onto something crucial and, with a somewhat suspicious demeanor, answered his own question, “If I win, those four people won’t die in the end, right?”
Lin Chen stopped tapping the glass, and this pause annoyed Shen Lian even more. But Lin Chen always knew how to provoke her. “You see, Shen Lian, it’s just a very ordinary idea from you, but if I were your therapist, I’d tell you that you’re not even aware of the cognitive issues behind this question.”
“Too bad you’re not,”
Before Shen Lian could continue, Lin Chen interrupted her.
“You’re afraid, yes. It looks like you’re confident, standing there as if you’re about to be the winner and mocking me. But what if I win? How will you handle that? You don’t really care about winning or losing; you care about the ideas symbolized behind it. If you win, it means your previously held beliefs were completely correct. Humans are selfish creatures, and you are just a kind closer to your true nature. But what if I win?” Lin Chen finally revealed a genuine smile, radiating an extremely bright aura. “If I win, what does it mean? Have you truly thought about this question?”
“Shut up. Do you think there’s even a possibility of that happening?” Shen Lian said coldly.
“‘Denial’ is the most basic and primitive psychological defense mechanism. If I were your therapist, I would seize this opportunity to say a few more words. Although ‘winning’ and ‘losing’ are just simple words, from my perspective, this term actually reflects your basic cognitive ability for moral evaluation. You actually have a clear understanding of what opinion you would hold about me. You even fully comprehend the social moral evaluation system. But it simply doesn’t move you, so you choose not to follow, let alone respect it. But deep down inside, you really know what kindness is.”
For a long time, Shen Lian couldn’t find the words to respond, feeling genuinely disgusted and nauseous by Lin Chen’s words. “Lin Chen, congratulations, you’ve succeeded in disgusting me.”
“My pleasure,” Lin Chen said.
Following the usual flow, when Lin Chen finished his concluding statement, the conversation should have come to an end.
But perhaps Lin Chen’s previous words really struck a nerve with her, or maybe it was just some psychological therapist’s technique, she couldn’t help but retort, “Come on, my point was simple. From both the perspective of human selfishness and human conformity, they would vote to execute those four criminals.”
“I’d like to hear the details.”
Lin Chen only replied like this, and regardless of how much or how little he said, it annoyed Shen Lian.
“Previously, I always thought you would create a batch of accounts online to spread grand virtues and goodness, to influence foolish people to make choices, thus reflecting what you call the brilliance of human nature.”
“That’s not beautiful. As I’ve said before, since it’s each individual’s choice, then it should be determined by each person’s free will.”
“But you not guiding doesn’t mean others won’t guide. In group environments, people tend to conform, especially online. Once someone expresses an opinion early, loudly, and it sounds very reasonable, many foolish people will be influenced, keep spreading it, and form fixed ideas.” Shen Lian paused and continued, “And often, those who are eager to express their own views, tsk…”
Lin Chen shook his head, and his feet followed with a little sway, as if expressing his helplessness.
Shen Lian knew that, in a sense, Lin Chen had a clearer understanding of this matter than her, so she had nothing more to say.
Just as she was about to continue, Lin Chen’s phone rang. Although there was no ringtone, Shen Lian clearly heard the vibration sound.
This was the first time Lin Chen’s phone rang since he entered the interrogation room for so long. Shen Lian knew something must have happened.
However, when she subconsciously stared at Lin Chen, the weak man who had been half-leaning on the chair suddenly stood up, pointed to the hidden door in the interrogation room, and coaxed her, “I need to use the restroom. You stay here for a while, be good.”
It was simply telling a blatant lie, and Shen Lian was infuriated.
…..
The interrogation room’s built-in bathroom was very small.
It only took two steps to reach the end, and when standing to urinate, your back would press against the cold back wall.
The flush toilet and sink were of the lowest quality to prevent any impulsive actions—even the mirror on the wall was covered with a simple layer of cellophane to avoid any danger.
Therefore, when standing in front of the sink and looking at himself, Lin Chen always felt as if he was seeing a ghost.
He turned on the tap and aimlessly let the water flow over his fingers while using his other hand to answer the phone. “Hello.”
“Why is your voice so hoarse? How much nonsense did you say?” Su Fengzi’s voice sounded in the earpiece, slightly mocking, and Lin Chen finally heard the tone of a normal person, which made him feel a little warmth.
“I was discussing psychological defense mechanisms with Shen Lian, and then got into the topic of group psychology. If we went deeper, we would probably get into the field of mirror neurons. Fortunately, you called.”
Su Fengzi was obviously not a conventional normal person. He only said, “Are you interrogating or dating? Does Xing Conglian even care about you?”
“I’m a person with my own opinions; he can’t control me.” Lin Chen laughed helplessly again. He turned off the tap and sat on the toilet with his knees against the wall. It was an uncomfortable posture, but for some inexplicable reason, it made him feel safe.
Su Fengzi probably knew that he had sat down, so he changed the subject. “It’s already so late. Your dear Inspector Huang almost shot someone in the cell. Fortunately, the director cut off the signal in time. Have you found a breakthrough with Shen Lian?”
“No, I haven’t discussed anything about her personally yet,” Lin Chen honestly replied.
“There are still 20 hours left, Lin Chen. You can’t just be direct with Shen Lian?” Su Fengzi said, a little impatiently.
“I’m always gentle with girls.”
“So you asked me to come to Yongchuan Medical College to find something related to Duan Wanshan and can break through Shen Lian’s defenses, but you’re chatting about poems, songs, and life ideals with a little beauty?”
Su Fengzi rarely sounded annoyed like this, and Lin Chen could almost imagine him standing alone under a streetlight, sulking. Although he knew that Su Fengzi deliberately said this to make him relax, he still couldn’t help but laugh. “After all, I’m counting on you, Shixiong.”
“I’ve already looked into it. After so many years, who can remember a small detail from many years ago? You don’t even tell me what aspect the detail might be related to. It’s as difficult as finding another planet with life in the universe.”
“Your analogy is really beautiful, Shixiong.”
On the other end of the phone, Su Fengzi let out a long sigh and finally said, “I’m very worried.”
Lin Chen knew that this wasn’t a joke. He looked at the suppressed wall in front of him and listened as Su Fengzi continued, “If more people really believe that those four should die, will you kill them in exchange for the antidote?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“Pay them for their lives.”
“That is meaningless,” Su Fengzi said.
“But what else can I do?” Lin Chen replied calmly.
“I understand,” Su Fengzi said solemnly. “Although I think it’s not worth it, I respect your choice.”
Just like the second hand of a clock passing by without any care, the voting began in a moment of intense anticipation yet silent tranquility.
At least when the broadcasting journalist switched the screen back to the .org-ending website, the real-time visitor count at the bottom had already surpassed five hundred thousand, rapidly increasing at a rate too fast for the naked eye to discern.
Somewhere along the line, a small button labeled “View Voting Data” appeared on the website.
Many people instinctively moved their cursors over the slightly raised button, but when it came to actually clicking it, their fingers hesitated over the left mouse button, feeling an unexplained palpitation.
I support the execution of the criminals — 88.5% — 905 votes.
I do not support the execution of the criminals — 11.5% — 118 votes.
“These are the real-time voting results five minutes after the official voting started, which isn’t surprising.”
This was what the male anchor in the live broadcast room of Yongchuan TV news said.
……
Min River No. 1 Prison.
Yan Guiqiu was getting restless; he felt like he had been locked up for at least a day and a night.
If it weren’t for the dim light emitted by the extremely simple light bulb on the ceiling, he would have thought he had entered a grave.
At the beginning, he tried to talk to the other three bosses, but no one responded to him. After all, the prison was a place with a strict hierarchy.
Then he attempted to knock on the iron door of the small dark room, but the police officer surnamed Huang who brought him in had only said, “Shut up and wait”, and ignored him after that.
He could only crouch in the corner of the small dark room, maintaining a not-so-obvious distance from Zhao Yi on the lower bunk, Qian Bao on the upper bunk, and Sun Zhen leaning against the corner.
But this did nothing to alleviate his anxious mood. It was said that those who had committed homicides carried a murderous aura with them, something he didn’t have much understanding of before. However, as time passed meaninglessly, he felt the palpable hostility in this small dark room growing more substantial.
The bosses couldn’t bear it much longer…
Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but shudder.
Just at that moment, Zhao Yi, who had been sitting like a king all along, stood up.
Before Yan Guiqiu could react, a pair of large hands descended from above, firmly gripping his neck.
Zhao Yi’s movements were too fast, and Yan Guiqiu’s vision went black as he was lifted up like a little chick and thrown against the iron door with a thud.
His head hit the door hard, causing pain to shoot through him. He couldn’t breathe, and his mind went blank. He couldn’t even muster the strength to struggle; he just felt like he was going to die.
Suddenly, the pressure on his back lessened, and the tightly closed iron door finally opened.
Yan Guiqiu fell to the ground, and Zhao Yi let go of him. His vision was still blurry, and he could only cover his neck and gasp for breath heavily.
In a daze, he saw a pair of black leather boots in front of him, their surface polished to a shine, even reflecting his disheveled appearance after the ordeal. Yan Guiqiu raised his head and saw the cold and indifferent police officer standing there.
The officer held four white envelopes and handed one of them to him.
“Open it.”
He heard the officer say to him.
Huang Ze stood in this small dark room permeated with the smell of cement and faint traces of blood, trying his best to remain calm.
He was well aware of how many citizens were watching the live broadcast through the installed cameras. Every action of his represented the highest position of the police, and it would be reviewed over and over again by the media and the public.
Even he himself would be scrutinized just like these four criminals, and he truly loathed this feeling, but he had no choice. Lin Chen had requested him to be here, executing the most crucial part of the plan: preventing these four individuals from dying inexplicably during the voting process and, after the voting results were out, taking them out of the dark room or executing them.
Of course, Huang Ze never believed that the former result would happen. Therefore, this task was destined to be extremely cruel, and it was suitable for him to carry it out.
Huang Ze sneered inwardly but showed no expression on his face. He took two steps in the dim prison cell and then handed out the remaining three envelopes one by one.
He didn’t understand the meaning of Lin Chen playing this kind of trick with these similar-looking envelopes. Before coming here, he had already opened and read all four letters, and they were exactly the same content.
Perhaps, to show respect for the sacrificial offering, Lin Chen didn’t use a photocopier but copied the letters by hand four times.
In the letters, Lin Chen explained to the four individuals why they were chosen and what would happen to them within the next 24 hours. He even briefly explained the voting rules and fairness guarantee in the letters, which Huang Ze felt was merely adding fuel to the fire.
As expected, during the time he waited for the four to read the letters, someone had already started tearing the paper.
Huang Ze glanced up slightly, and the swindler on the upper bunk exposed his fat head with a cold and evil look. He casually tore Lin Chen’s handwritten letter into pieces and threw the white paper shreds onto Huang Ze’s face.
‘Are you looking for death?!’ Huang Ze thought, but he politely warned Qian Bao, “If I were you, I would try to be gentler and more frugal, seeking the audience’s forgiveness in front of the TV. Maybe they’ll give you a chance to survive.”
He dared to say this because he was completely facing away from the camera, and Lin Chen specifically asked for no audio recording in the small dark room.
The chubby swindler burst into loud laughter, but his tone was terrifyingly cold. “If you have the guts, just kill me.” He faced the camera and flipped his middle finger. “If you don’t kill me, I’ll look down on you all.”
Hearing this, Huang Ze shrugged; criminals were indeed unreasonable.
However, just as Qian Bao’s arrogant laughter echoed in the dark room, Huang Ze heard a faint voice at his feet.
“This… Officer, this must be a mistake, right?” The voice was high-pitched and thin, something you wouldn’t expect from a normal man.
But when Huang Ze looked down at the creature that looked like a black rat at his feet, he could understand why this man’s voice sounded that way.
Greed, cowardice, timidity, terror…
These words almost filled the man’s face, making it disgusting. He believed that the viewers in front of their TV screens would have the same opinion.
Yan Guiqiu held the letter while his hands trembled, and his eyes became teary. He tentatively asked him, “Huang… Officer Huang… Why was I chosen?”
“It’s stated in the letter. It was completely random sampling, and your number happened to be drawn.”
“No… It’s not… Why me? How did it end up being me?” Yan Guiqiu seemed to still be immersed in enormous disbelief, not accepting his fate. He looked at the letter upside down several times in a hurry and urgently said, “I… I was going to be released on parole in a few days. How could I have been chosen? This must be a mistake.”
Huang Ze lowered his head to look at him but remained silent.
“I’m just unlucky. I didn’t steal anything valuable, and I even broke my leg. Why am I so unlucky?” Yan Guiqiu was close to crying, as if he had suddenly thought of something. He grabbed Huang Ze’s pants leg, as if holding onto a lifeline, and pleaded, “Can you change it? Mr. Police Officer, draw again. Please draw again, I beg you!”
The skinny man’s voice was pitiful, but the little bit of sympathy that arose in Huang Ze’s heart vanished after hearing this plea. He didn’t know what hope Lin Chen had left, but he genuinely felt that using these four trash individuals to save other innocent people was the most cost-effective deal in the whole world.
……
Huang Ze wasn’t the only one who shared the same sentiment.
At least on the official website ending with .org, the ratio of “life or death” was approaching 2:8 as the number of voters increased.
Although it seemed like there were more people opposed to killing the criminals to obtain the antidote, considering the rapid expansion in the number of participants, this was still an extremely frightening and significant ratio.
Many citizens were even more shocked to discover that the police, or, more precisely, the government, weren’t joking. Around 8:30 in the evening, some citizen squares and public spots that should have quieted down once again lit up with lights and became lively.
At that time, some aunties and uncles hadn’t completely left the square after their square dance. Some small delivery trucks came to the edge of the square, and well-trained staff who didn’t look like ordinary construction workers carried tents off the trucks and set up several large ones in just five minutes.
These tents looked like they were taken from the government’s reserve supplies, brand new and unopened, and the rainproof fabric shone brightly under the lights.
After setting up the tents, the staff unloaded a few tables and chairs from the truck and then orderly left as if hurrying to the next location.
After seeing the staff leave, the children, who were still strolling around, held their parents’ hands and came to the side of the tent.
Some of them extended their chubby little hands to tentatively poke the iron pole, while the bolder ones had already lifted the curtain and were going in and out of the tent, playing with great delight.
Similar scenes were continuously unfolding in the three provinces. The reason the public sometimes needed the government was because they could be truly powerful.
Many activity centers that had already closed their doors also lit up almost simultaneously. Some people were organizing tables and chairs, while others received thick sealed boxes, looking tired and uncertain as they looked inside at the thousands of blank ballots.
In the dark night, the crowds outside each tent grew larger. Some residents even came downstairs in slippers to see the facilities built within five minutes.
The police hadn’t officially announced the specific process for offline voting through Yongchuan TV, but looking at these tents, many residents could connect them with what had happened today.
“Damn, pinch me, am I dreaming? Seriously?” A white-collar worker who had just gotten off work pushed his friend next to him and looked incredulously at the tent under the tree through the gaps in the crowd.
“Are you crazy? Online voting is one thing, but doing on-site voting is like a presidential election. It’s a big deal.” His colleague was swiping on his phone, looked up indifferently, and continued chatting with his girlfriend.
In the WeChat chat window, the girl replied: [These are a few bad guys. The police can’t catch them, which is already pathetic. Who could come up with such an idea? Trading four criminals’ lives for an antidote is just losing face!]
[You’re right, honey.] The man typed quickly. [Anyway, it has nothing to do with us. Let’s talk about where you want to go for vacation this weekend…]
As he pressed the send button, some noise seemed to be coming from the front, but it couldn’t attract him to look up again.
A new reply appeared. [My mom has gone crazy. She asked me when she can go downstairs to vote. These middle-aged women in their fifties love to join in the fun.]
[If she really wants to join the fun, you should teach her to vote online.]
Then, an eye-rolling emoji appeared in the chat window, fully expressing the girl’s displeasure. The man playing on his phone smiled in the dark and opened the government’s official website to access the online voting address they had announced.
Outside the park, a completely different set of government vehicles parked.
This time, government office personnel in suits and leather shoes got out of the cars. They wore the national emblem on their chests, each carrying large cardboard boxes as they walked in groups from a distance.
In the dark night, their young faces appeared exceptionally solemn, as if they were about to carry out some tasks that must be completed with strictness. The man who had just registered for online voting inadvertently looked up and saw this scene.
His phone emitted a soft sound, indicating the arrival of a text message with the real-name authentication verification code: 7086, a simple set of four digits.
After entering these four digits and pressing the confirmation button, he would gain the qualification to vote. However, at that moment, in the darkness outside the crowd, he felt his fingers grow heavy, lacking the courage to input the verification code.
The young people in uniform suits opened the tent flaps, shooed away the children, and carried the cardboard boxes inside.
With their movements, the entire area around the tent fell into silence. Everyone stood still, staring blankly as the lights inside the tent suddenly lit up. Then, they realized that the voting was real, and the government wasn’t joking. And precisely because they weren’t joking, it felt even more like a joke.
However, gradually, no one could find it in themselves to laugh.
Chapter 238: The Wise Consider a Thousand Possibilities
Fu Tianyi shuttled back and forth amidst a sea of colors.
Meng Huai and Zhong Chengfeng confronted Shen Mo on the front line, disrupting the cocoon of the enemy. Fu Tianyi had a clear division of labor; he was responsible for leading a large group of survivors who were being carried by the Lonelies.
One after another, the spherical cocoons cracked open, and the people inside were lifted by the Lonelies and carried on their heads, led by Fu Tianyi, to the rescue site. In the imagined Fu family mansion, the rescued individuals were neatly arranged in the courtyard by the Lonelies.
Fu Tianyi ran tirelessly, but the transportation capacity of the Lonely Cats was limited, and he didn’t know how many trips he had to make.
White net, rescue point. White net, rescue point… Fu Tianyi had never used his abilities so intensively before. He was exhausted all over, and every joint of his bones ached. But he couldn’t stop—behind him, the Lonely Cats dragged one humanoid cocoon after another, waving tablecloths as they sprinted. The Lonelies squeaked and screamed; their cognitive pollution shot toward the enemy troops like corrupted rainwater.
At the same time, Dog Thing kept barking in his ear. It trembled and gave him hints about which direction the enemy was most uneasy, guiding him to the right place for a breakthrough.
The army of Elementals surged wave after wave. Despite the repetitive back and forth, the decision-making of routes, casting of abilities, and physical exertion, he still had to keep thinking.
Fu Tianyi wished he could split his brain into four parts. At first, he still had the mental energy to observe the frontline situation. Later on, even his vision became blurred, and he almost collapsed.
But he couldn’t.
He must not break down, he must not make mistakes. Otherwise, the Lonelies would be attacked and the missing people would be swallowed by the Elementals—he was carrying the lives of many on his shoulders. This was even the “easiest” part on the battlefield—he could move among the swarm of Elementals because Meng Huai and Zhong Chengfeng were engaged in battle with the Charon, diverting their main forces.
Too naive.
Fu Tianyi clenched his teeth, tightly grasped the flesh and blood of the Elementals as he cast his abilities frantically.
…He was truly too naive.
Fu Xingchuan and he were the true geniuses of the Fu family among two generations. Twenty-nine years ago, during the Divine Descent, that person was also a young man in his prime. Fu Tianyi had thought that Fu Xingchuan was just born in a good era. It was easy to achieve military merits during chaotic times. As long as there was an opportunity, he wasn’t inferior to his predecessor.
‘Fuck all those opportunities,’ Fu Tianyi shouted in his heart.
At this moment, what family, what pride, what reputation… In Fu Tianyi’s almost collapsing mind, there was only one thing left: He must not stop; even if it was painful, he must not stop.
He would rather this kind of war never happen than have some damn opportunity to stand out.
A giant Elemental pounced towards him. Fu Tianyi skillfully closed his eyes, sealing his perception. Then, a barrage of spells followed, stabilizing the surrounding aura. He opened his eyes—his perception was lost, and his left shoulder was nearly severed.
As the spells were released, the intense pain gradually returned. Fu Tianyi looked at the wound with a stern face and applied a few spells to it. “Keep moving forward!”
Suddenly, the entire space shook.
The Lonelies were startled and immediately prostrated themselves on the ground, while Dog Thing’s barking reached its maximum volume. In the midst of the bizarrely shaped Elementals surrounding them, Fu Tianyi finally turned his head to look.
In the center of the white net, a huge white hemisphere was wildly deforming and struggling, as if something inside was desperately fighting. The entire white net shook violently, and the threads broke, causing the Elementals on it to fall down like rain.
“What’s going on?” Fu Tianyi endured the discomfort and devoted part of his attention to contacting Meiqiu.
[The central structure collapsed. Love is either being born or escaping.] Dr. Cat’s voice exploded in Fu Tianyi’s mind. [Judging by the intensity of the burst of energy, I guess it’s the latter.]
“Understood. How about Meng Huai’s side?”
Dr. Cat: [Follow the plan. Jiao Lian is now in charge of command. Do your job; you can’t interfere anyway.]
Fu Tianyi’s heart became calm. “…Alright.”
He turned his head again, but at this distance, he couldn’t see the frontline situation clearly. However, what he could see was that the giant half-circle rapidly deflated like a leaking balloon.
Whatever was inside had disappeared.
……
There was another person who was also on the edge of the battlefield.
“Listen, stay where you are.” Lu Xiaohe’s voice turned into text, which continuously appeared on Ge Tingting’s phone. “Xiang Jiang and Xiang Hai are severely injured. Love’s condition is weak, Huang Jin is unconscious, and the situation is still unclear.”
“And the ground?” Ge Tingting typed with her head lowered.
“The ground team cannot face Love’s body directly. They are strengthening the perimeter defense under Li Nian’s arrangement. There is no united force outside that you can join. Right now, your own safety is the top priority.”
Ge Tingting slowly clenched her fist. “Huang Jin clearly brought Qi Xin. How could…”
Lu Xiaohe truthfully replied, “Q Xin sustained severe injuries just now. She won’t risk her life for us and most likely abandoned her avatar immediately.”
Ge Tingting’s fingers stopped on the keyboard.
She had nothing to ask, nothing to do. The “#1 Ghost General” Fu Xingchuan understood a corpse servant’s methods, and it was almost like a battle between gods. If she rashly joined the battlefield, she would only drag her side down.
Even if the fate of her colleagues was unknown.
Ge Tingting wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She decided to calm her emotions and… huh?
Amidst the frantic turbulence, the scenery around her became distorted and blurry. The dark sewer was filled with garbage, so quiet that it made her uncomfortable. Lu Xiaohe’s communication in her ears was intermittent and hoarse, with a signal so weak that it could disappear at any moment. A large amount of static noise flooded the system, and the messages displayed on her phone were incomplete and fragmented.
Yellow Millet rapidly shrank and slid into Ge Tingting’s pocket, with the pocket button being thoughtfully fastened.
“Xiao Ge, no ■■■■ what, don’t ■■■■ struggling…”
“Xiao ■■, ■■ matter ■■■■, ■■ give up ■■ struggling…”
“■■, ■■■■■■■, don’t give up ■■…”
Lu Xiaohe noticed the problem and desperately sent the same message. Ge Tingting watched as those messages gradually became garbled and disappeared.
What’s going on?
The surroundings were a mess, and Ge Tingting quickly picked up small objects that could be used, tightly holding them to her chest. She was just contemplating whether or not to go up and take a look when suddenly everything spun wildly. Ge Tingting rolled several times on the rough stone surface before finally coming to a stop.
The voices in her earpiece completely disappeared.
The sound of the wind, the rustling of leaves, the distant bird calls—everything vanished without a trace. The familiar sense of chaos washed over her again. It felt like the Other side, but it was also not the Other Side.
Could this be the legendary interstitial space?
Maintaining a face-down position, Ge Tingting opened her eyes just a crack and carefully surveyed her surroundings—
In front of her was an endless jumble of fused debris, like a nightmare garbage dump. Huang Jin was lying not far away, motionless. Fu Xingchuan’s bone roc suddenly dissipated, leaving Fu Xingchuan himself with closed eyes and blood all over his face. Six fierce ghosts trailed behind him, their forms flickering unsteadily.
And on the opposite side, Xiang Jiang and Xiang Hai dragged their broken bodies and engaged in a fierce battle with Fu Xingchuan once again.
The only good news was that the ground troops had been pulled away by Professor Li and weren’t involved in this.
Ge Tingting dared not look around, afraid that she might accidentally catch a glimpse of Love’s body. She lay on the ground, pretending to be unconscious, but her breath couldn’t escape her.
She hadn’t seen a trace of Love.
“Haa…” Just as she thought, a sigh sounded by her ear. The voice was soft and beautiful—Sun Qi’an’s voice.
The hairs on the back of Ge Tingting’s neck stood up instantly.
“No need to pretend, little girl,” Love said softly, her tone filled with profound weakness. “I can hear your heartbeat. I know you’re awake. In a place like this, you can speak normally, can’t you?”
Ge Tingting didn’t move.
In her field of vision, there were only a pair of beautiful boots. The boots connected to shapely calves and were stained with blood on the light-colored leggings.
Seeing Ge Tingting’s lack of reaction, Love smiled. She casually dragged out an inflated corpse from the debris and leaned against it like a sofa. Not far away, Fu Xingchuan dragged his mangled body, engaged in a life-and-death struggle with Xiang Jiang and Xiang Hai. The scenes of fighting and resting were eerily close to each other, creating a very strange sight.
“Why didn’t you kill me?”
Five minutes later, Ge Tingting couldn’t hold back any longer and spoke.
“I never intended to kill you from the beginning,” Love said. “Besides, there is a long time to come, and all of you are decent humans, which can give me a bit of sustenance.”
Her voice carried a touch of self-derision.
“…In the end, I still have to follow the path of Sorrow. It’s quite interesting.”
At this moment, a few steps away, one of Fu Xingchuan’s fierce ghosts was torn apart by Xiang Jiang and Xiang Hai. The evil qi splashed, causing Ge Tingting’s skin to ache.
Ge Tingting wasn’t deceived by this seemingly conversational atmosphere. Her stomach acid surged. “What do you mean?”
“Thanks to your two colleagues—aside from the part in this body, the rest of my body was completely consumed by Yin Ren.”
Love looked towards the chaotic space that seemed boundless and spoke with a hint of complaint in her tone.
“But this is one of the possible outcomes, and I had made preparations.”
She lovingly caressed her own arm.
“In a few hundred years, my power might be able to recover a bit. When the time is right, I will attempt to be reborn again… Using a phrase commonly used by you humans, as long as the mountains are green, there will be firewood to burn*.”
*(留得青山在，不愁没柴烧) Idiom referring to as long as one has resources or a foundation to rely on, they will not lack the means to sustain themselves or overcome difficulties.
Ge Tingting’s mind went momentarily blank.
According to Love’s words, Yin Ren won. But Love didn’t disappear; instead, she dragged them into this god-forsaken place… From the beginning, it planned to preserve a portion of its original form through Dr. Sun as a way out.
“They will definitely find you.” Ge Tingting’s throat felt dry.
If Yin Ren devoured Love, he would definitely become stronger, and he would never give up on his companions.
Love seemed to see through her thoughts and added a hint of amusement to her voice. “Have you seen this place? This is the edge of the interstitial space, where there is no order. I deliberately chose the deepest hiding spot. Finding someone here is like searching for a speck of dust in the universe.”
“If they want to find us, it will take them at least a thousand years… The survival strategy of Sorrow seems somewhat useful.”
Love’s voice became even sweeter.
“You can chat with me more. That way, maybe you’ll go insane a bit slower. I really need sustenance…”
So that’s it. Love only wanted “time”—enough to drive humans crazy, the ever-changing time of the world. Ge Tingting stared at the sticky, interconnected fragments and ancient objects on the ground, despair crashing over her. She almost lost consciousness.
She couldn’t give up.
Even if it took a thousand years, perhaps Yin Ren wouldn’t give up, but she was just a fragile mortal. She was only sixteen years old; she couldn’t do it—she couldn’t retain her sanity for such a long time in this chaotic place, nor could she defeat the enemy in front of her.
The fact that even the enemy knew this made their conversation so easy.
She couldn’t give up.
The surrounding chaos was dim and silent, as if she were buried alive seven feet under. Ge Tingting’s eyes felt intensely itchy, but she desperately clenched her teeth to prevent the tears from falling.
She could feel Love’s gaze, a gaze that even held pity, like a person looking down on a desperate ant.
She couldn’t give up.
Ge Tingting tightened her grip on her clothes, and all the random things she had grabbed from the sewer fell out.
Damaged scissors, a metal hairpin, a lighter, unopened mint candies, small oranges, and a baby-sized apple that fell to the ground.
They were of no use.
A few steps away, three more of Fu Xingchuan’s fierce ghosts disappeared into smoke, leaving only two strands of black smoke around him. Without Li Nian’s support and in an unfavorable environment, he was facing an inevitable defeat.
Even though it seemed meaningless, he still stood.
She couldn’t give up… or could she?
Ge Tingting reminisced over her relatively short life. From her parents’ deaths to meeting Feng Qi, from joining Shian to discovering the astonishing identities of her colleagues, and then getting involved in the war between gods. Perhaps for an ordinary person, this would already be a sufficiently tumultuous life.
Huang Jin was in an even worse state. Even if he were to wake up, he would never see his beloved girl again.
If only she had given him a push and encouraged him to confess earlier… No, given the current circumstances, maybe it was right that he hadn’t confessed…
Ge Tingting lowered her head, and her thoughts began to scatter.
At least in the past hundred years, Love couldn’t descend into the world, so things would be stable outside. Ding Lizi had her eyes cured, and even if she started a new life, she would always remember Huang Jin…
Ding Lizi had her eyes cured…
Ge Tingting blinked and looked at the small apple not far away. It was ugly, pockmarked, and covered in dust, with only a faint hint of red showing.
She stared at it intently, and the sourness in her eyes gradually disappeared.
“…” She clenched the apple tightly, muttering softly. Her voice was low, and Love turned her head, only able to catch a rough idea of what she was saying.
It was a nursery rhyme.
“When the red light is on and the green light is burning, every household closes their door… At midnight, when the fruit ripens, be careful what you say with your back to the door..” Ge Tingting clumsily hummed; her pronunciation wasn’t very clear.
Love thought she was mentally confused and didn’t intervene.
“Pray for tranquility, wish for good fortune, and shut your eyes so you can’t see…” Ge Tingting continued to hum softly.
Perhaps Love had made a small mistake.
Whether it was Fu Xingchuan or Huang Jin, it shouldn’t have brought her to the interstitial space. This wasn’t the Other Side; she could keep her belongings here, and this wasn’t the mortal world; she could speak.
As a repayment for finding Zhong Chengshuo, Yin Ren had cured Lu Xiaohe’s mother and healed Ding Lizi’s eyes. He still owed only one wish to her; this was a “contract”.
On the Other Side, Hu Tao could find Yin Ren through a contract. So, could she replicate that here?
Facing an opponent who was almost godlike, this was the only thing she could do, and it was the strongest blow she had.
“…The rooster crows, with footsteps far away, and comes back next year to report the peace.”
Ge Tingting, with a hoarse throat, stumbled through the ancient ballad.
Ge Tingting reached out her blood-stained hand and held the small apple. She closed her eyes tightly but raised her head resolutely, “looking” in Love’s direction.
“We are right here.”
She enunciated her words clearly and made her wish.
“Save us, Great Master.”
At that moment, as the last fierce ghost beside Fu Xingchuan fell, Love turned its gaze in confusion, and Ge Tingting burst into an almost imperceptible smile.
In the next instant, a sunset glow ignited in the dark chaos.
The author has something to say:
Friend: Love is so pitiful, like confidently picking up a vegetable and accidentally grabbing a piece of ginger.
Ge Tingting—weak and helpless but capable of shaking things up on the spot.
Kinky Thoughts:
The title of this chapter is an idiom referring to someone who is intelligent and wise takes great care and forethought in their actions, considering numerous possibilities and potential outcomes before making decisions.
Chen Qianfan was roughly sixty years old. It was unknown whether he had drunk some immortal wine or had figured out some magical technique at the Mishan Sect, but his hair was all white, yet his appearance didn’t show signs of aging. He was also very strong and didn’t have the typical leanness associated with old age.
Monk Juehui had a stern face, while Abbot Juefei had a smiling face, forming a contrasting pair. The former “Monk Jueguo” had an expressionless face, complementing the previous two, forming a perfect set.
However, Chen Qianfan’s facial features were more remarkable than those of Juefei and Juehui. He was also dressed in the elegant attire of the Mishan Sect, with a blue and white outfit that sets him apart from worldly affairs. However, when combined with Chen Qianfan’s overly robust physique, it failed to evoke any sense of immortalness.
Chen Qianfan placed the basket filled with monster corpses on the doorstep and brushed off the snow from the soles of his shoes.
“Xiao Chun, is someone here?” His tone was indifferent, devoid of emotion.
Xiao Chun, who was known as Granny Wei, immediately stood up with joy. “Yes, we haven’t had visitors for five or six years… Oh, Master, you are skilled in divination, so you must have known already.”
“Yes, Juefei called here. Remove your masks; let me see your faces.”
Inside the room, only Shi Jingzhi and Shi Zhongyu showed their faces, while the remaining three also removed their masks. Chen Qianfan’s gaze swept across everyone’s faces, but he didn’t linger on the appearance of Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci.
“…Hmm, it will do.”
After scanning each person’s face, Chen Qianfan spoke vaguely while taking off the heavy record book hanging from his chest. Finally, he reached for a small cloth bag at his waist and threw it beside the corpse basket, causing a few pale red petals to fall out.
In this manner, he unloaded the burden from his body, then walked to the table without any pretense and slapped the record book onto it.
Shi Jingzhi took the opportunity to glance at it. The record book had a demon skin cover and yellowed pages with frayed edges, indicating its age.
“Speak, what is it?”
After settling down, Chen Qianfan drank nearly half a bowl of soup in one breath and asked straightforwardly.
All the polite words that Shi Jingzhi had prepared vanished.
Chen Qianfan clearly had no intention of adopting a “hospitable” attitude and got straight to the point, which felt a bit distant. They had been guided here by Juefei, but this person hadn’t asked about Juefei’s recent situation.
Although they didn’t have to lie to his face, which made Shi Jingzhi breathed a sigh of relief, but Chen Qianfan’s attitude was cold and unapproachable.
Seeing no one speaking, Chen Qianfan rolled his eyes like a dead fish. “Are you all mute? Did you come all this way just to have a meal at my house?”
…It was the familiar enigmatic eccentricity of the Jianchen Temple. Shi Jingzhi relaxed slightly.
He also got straight to the point. “A ban was placed on this junior’s memories during the first three years by someone. Recently, the ban has been triggered, and I hope Senior can help resolve it. The reward can be negotiated, and I will do my best.”
“Oh, I thought it was a big deal.” Chen Qianfan waved his hand dismissively. “It’s just a trivial problem. After the meal, I’ll take a look. And you, yes, you, the little girl—aren’t you traveling with them?”
Shi Zhongyu, who didn’t expect to be called out so quickly, stood up cautiously and bowed.
“I am Shi Zhongyu from the Taiheng Sect. I have come here to pay my respects…”
“Don’t bother me with useless nonsense. I’m not interested in your name.” Chen Qianfan, with his poker face, sounded impatient. “What’s the matter? Just tell me.”
“Our sect leader is critically ill, and there is no cure.” Shi Zhongyu didn’t dare to say more than necessary.
“Do you have the pulse jade with you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, then your matter is even more trivial. Wait in line behind that boy, and we’ll discuss it after the meal.” Chen Qianfan gulped down the soup and let out a satisfied belch. “I’m done eating; you can do as you please. Xiao Chun, I’ve brought back the demon flowers for you to deal with.”
Granny Wei happily replied, “Ah, would you like more soup?”
Chen Qianfan said, “Sure, bring another bowl.”
Yin Ci took a sip of the unsalted soup and furrowed his brows slightly.
This Chen Qianfan was quite interesting.
Shi Jingzhi’s ban was complex, and even if Yin Ci still had his inner force, he didn’t dare to rashly break it. No matter how he looked at it, this wasn’t a “trivial problem”. Chen Qianfan didn’t seem like a braggart either, so there might be another ingenious solution.
Upon hearing that there was a solution, Shi Jingzhi and Shi Zhongyu ate quickly, wishing they could stuff the bowls into their mouths.
After the meal, Shi Zhongyu barely had time to wipe her mouth before she handed over the pulse jade with both hands.
The pulse jade was warm and soft, capable of recording a patient’s pulse for about seven days. It was considered an auxiliary tool for remote diagnosis and treatment, but it was expensive enough to leave people speechless. Only the Taiheng Sect could afford such extravagance.
Chen Qianfan pressed the pulse jade for a while.
“Are you trying to deceive me? This pulse pattern indicates a common deficiency with fever. Does the patient have any other symptoms?”
She thought that the Mishan Sect would discover something unusual, but with one sentence, Shi Zhongyu’s hopeful anticipation was dampened.
“It’s just a persistent high fever, nothing else. After several days of high fever, the Sect Master showed signs of Broken Horse—”
Chen Qianfan raised an eyebrow. “Signs of Broken Horse?”
Shi Zhongyu suddenly felt like she misspoke. “’Broken Horse’ is an internal term in our sect. It means that the elderly person is critically ill and difficult to save. I…”
Chen Qianfan let out a grunt, interrupting Shi Zhongyu directly, his tone showing a bit more interest. “People in the Central Plains have also noticed, not bad. ‘Broken Horse’, ‘Broken Horse’. It’s quite an apt description. I used to call it ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’, meaning something similar. In the end, whether it’s Broken Horse or Heaven’s Displeasure, the result is the same—there is no hope left.”
Chen Qianfan stroked his medium-length beard and made a clicking sound with his mouth.
“And you, with your fox-like eyes and the flag of a wandering healer, you must have treated some illnesses and should have noticed something, right?”
When he said this, Chen Qianfan didn’t even glance at him. It took a moment for Shi Jingzhi to realize that Chen Qianfan was beckoning to him. “I have only seen a few cases, but I did sense something.”
“Severe injuries and serious illnesses seem to have a certain threshold. Before reaching it, treatment is more effective. Once crossed, it’s like trying to stop water with bare hands—medicine becomes useless… But isn’t this a normal situation?”
Yin Ci also had a similar question.
It was natural that mild conditions were easier to treat while severe illnesses were more difficult. It was just the elegance of the Taiheng Sect to have coined specific terms for them.
Chen Qianfan seemed to sense their doubts. “I used to think this was normal too. However, this place is at the intersection of three kingdoms, and occasionally, some foreigners come seeking help—those people from Luojiu and Great Yun are similar. They also have this invisible and intangible ‘threshold’. But interestingly, the Qituo people don’t have it.”
Su Si couldn’t help but interject. “Perhaps it’s because foreigners have different constitutions.”
Chen Qianfan gave Su Si a disdainful look. “Do you think I wouldn’t have thought of such a basic reason? If we must compare, the constitutions of the Qituo people and the Great Yun people are more similar. The Luojiu people, regardless of gender, are all nine feet* tall, and their lifestyles are nothing like the Great Yun people, yet they share this similarity?”
*[Chi] (尺) A Chinese foot, so 9 Chinese feet is which is about 9.81 normal feet.
Su Si felt the piercing gaze as if Chen Qianfan had seen through him to the core, and he couldn’t help but keep quiet.
Chen Qianfan withdrew his gaze. “I call it ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’ because its characteristics are quite interesting. Anyone who triggers ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’ is destined to become a burden.”
“Compare them with the Qituo people who don’t have ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’. If both have a double leg fracture, the Great Yun people will recover in just half a month, while the Qituo people will take two to three months. But if both legs are bitten off by tigers and wolves, even if treated in time, the Great Yun person will die, while the Qiduo people have a chance to survive.”
“The older and weaker a person is, the more likely they are to trigger ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’. It’s not surprising that you think it’s the elderly who experience Broken Horse. Little girl, your Sect Master… Let me think, he’s around seventy, his meridians are already damaged, and he has been burned into a useless person, right?”
Shi Zhongyu obediently replied, “Yes.”
Immediately, she hesitated for a moment, but then said, “My family has been in the spice business with the people of Western Ridge for a long time, and the people of Western Ridge have never experienced a situation like the Great Yun people. There was a person from the Western Ridge who had a bone injury in our shop, and it took a hundred days to heal… At that time, I thought it was a coincidence, but it still felt strange.”
So that’s why she was particularly concerned about the “sign of Broken Horse”?
Yin Ci lowered his gaze.
The “signs of Broken Horse” discovered by the Taiheng Sect were the same as Chen Qianfan’s “Heaven’s Displeasure”.
The “Immortal Potential” of the Yuanxian Village people and the “Cuckoo Calamity” passed down among the people were the “Monster Material” that Yin Ci named himself.
They seemed to vaguely grasp the edges of some abnormal thing, but because the information was sporadic, they couldn’t reach a unified understanding.
“This ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’ is strange,” Yan Qing suddenly muttered.
Usually, it was only Su Si who couldn’t control his mouth, so it was rare for Yan Qing to get involved in these peculiar matters. Yin Ci turned his gaze and didn’t miss this anomaly. “What’s strange about it?”
Throughout the journey, Yan Qing had developed a sense of awe towards Yin Ci that he couldn’t put into words. Seeing Yin Ci looking over, he quickly sat up straight on the bench.
“It’s nothing major. I just saw Lord Bai and had some random thoughts. In the past, when I helped people raise livestock, their habits were the same.”
The more Yan Qing spoke, the less confident he became.
“For minor injuries and illnesses in livestock, you should treat them quickly. But if the treatment is troublesome or the injury is severe, you should quickly slaughter them for food; otherwise, it would just waste feed.”
This association could be described as either simple or cruel, and Su Si, who was next to Yan Qing, was also stunned for a moment. “San Zi, you… really dare to think.”
Yan Qing quickly explained, “The real ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’ definitely isn’t like that. We all experience life, aging, sickness, and death. I haven’t heard of anyone being killed and eaten. I just said it casually.”
Chen Qianfan’s eyes lit up, and he picked up the old record book, flipping through it quickly. After writing for a whole incense stick’s worth of time, he realized that he had neglected the main matter.
“If ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’ has been triggered, then it’s fine. You’ll accompany me outside for a couple of days to gather some materials, and I’ll make a disaster warding talisman for you.”
Chen Qianfan calmly put down the notebook, yawned, and appeared as if nothing had happened.
“A disaster warding talisman?”
“You’ll redirect your Sect Master’s illness onto yourself and ward off the disaster for him. You’re still young and won’t easily trigger ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’. If your Sect Master’s illness suddenly becomes mild, you can deceive the heavens and temporarily relieve the state of ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’. Take this opportunity to quickly investigate your Sect Master’s problem. Won’t that solve it?”
Shi Zhongyu stood still in her original spot. “Senior, aren’t you going to prescribe medicine?”
Chen Qianfan had no expression on his face. “Prescribe medicine? Given the patient’s condition, it doesn’t seem like some unheard-of, strange illness. His symptoms are too few. It’s more like someone has deliberately weakened his body and deliberately triggered ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’ to make his death appear more natural.”
“I can at most make him regain consciousness and provide some clues. But let me tell you this, if you ward off the disaster for him for too long, you will also become a useless person. You…”
“That’s fine.” Shi Zhongyu interrupted Chen Qianfan for the first time. “To be able to ward off a disaster for the Sect Master with my own life is enough.”
Chen Qianfan looked at her seriously for the first time. “Alright, next.”
Shi Jingzhi silently stepped forward.
Yin Ci also focused his attention and temporarily set aside his thoughts on “Heaven’s Displeasure” and “Demon Material”, preparing to observe how Chen Qianfan would resolve the situation.
Unfortunately, the more he watched, the more he felt that this person was a bit unreliable.
Chen Qianfan didn’t prepare a ritual room or burn incense. Instead, he casually dragged over a log and had Shi Jingzhi sit in a spacious area. He didn’t bring out any extraordinary magic weapons either; he just rummaged through the cluttered pile of miscellaneous items in the corner and found a small, dark bronze cymbal.
With a serious face and rolled-up sleeves, he fiercely struck the cymbal beside Shi Jingzhi’s head, buzzing and clanging, resembling a shamanistic ritual dance performed in the countryside.
As Shi Jingzhi sat there, he exuded an air of funeral solemnity. He looked bewildered but didn’t dare to ask anything, so he sat there stiffly like a meditating monk.
Unexpectedly, after buzzing and clanging for half an incense stick’s worth of time, a complete formation appeared behind Shi Jingzhi’s head. It emitted a brilliant golden light and had extremely intricate patterns. Against the backdrop of Shi Jingzhi’s head, it looked like an evil god’s divine radiance.
Chen Qianfan: “Oh, this… can be treated too. But it’s up to you, kid.”
“Up to me?”
“If you only want to get rid of the suffering caused by the ban, it can be done with a cup of tea. I will remove the portion of your memory that triggered the ban, and the ban will completely fade away. Problem solved—I’m quite skilled at removing memories.”
Chen Qianfan clapped his hands.
“But if you want to break the ban, that’s a different matter.”
Shi Jingzhi licked his dry lips. “Please explain.”
“The level of the cultivator who placed the ban is higher than that of the elders in my sect. I’m not specifically trained in breaking formations, so how could I easily break such a complex thing?”
“If you insist on breaking it, the chance of life or death is fifty-fifty.”
“Choose, kid.”
The author has something to say:
Yan Qing: A person with intermittent episodes of Yan Budu’s bloodline (…
Master Chen’s violent breakthrough method √
Yin Ci: Alright, let’s see the talented person’s precise surgical skills to remove the lesions.
Chen Qianfan: (Takes out a shovel) Come, let me dig into your skull.
The next morning, outside the Qu Clan’s courtyard.
Several tall and majestic Arrow Horses were snorting, continuously stomping the ground without a moment’s pause. Steam rose from their skin, creating a hot mist in the air.
These Arrow Horses were carefully nurtured horse demons provided by various sects. They were twice the size of ordinary horses and had astonishing endurance. When they ran, their long manes seemed to carry fire, making them several times faster than the wind itself. They also left no trace as they galloped, moving like a gust of wind.
The Arrow Horses of the Taiheng Sect were particularly robust, without a single strand of stray hair.
Unfortunately, there was no sign of the horse-drawn carriage with the soft cushions and small stove that Sect Master Shi had dreamed of, let alone any snacks for the journey.
Hovering behind the horses were four coffin-like artifacts. Shaped like shuttles, they were firmly fixed to the horses’ bodies, with each one perfectly accommodating a person.
The smile on Sect Master Shi’s face gradually disappeared, and his complexion turned pale. He asked, “Miss Shi, what is this?”
Shi Zhongyu: “These are ‘protective shuttles’. Our sect’s Arrow Horses are incredibly fast, and the carriage would be cumbersome. The wind on the road is like a turbulent stream, and without proper protection, it is easy to suffocate. I can use our sect’s treasures for self-defense, so I can only inconvenience everyone to lie down for a while.”
Shi Jingzhi: “……”
The good news was that the horses were fast. The bad news was that they would become cocooned behind the horses’ rear ends. They wouldn’t even get to enjoy the scenic view, let alone see the horses’ tails.
Seeing Shi Jingzhi’s stiff expression, Shi Zhongyu added, “Our sect’s Arrow Horses never rest. I will personally ride and control them. There’s no need to worry; I’ll support them with my inner force. We’ll reach the northern lands in just a day and a half.”
Yin Ci, observing the four airtight protective shuttles, furrowed his brows. The shuttles had ventilation mechanisms, so they wouldn’t suffocate, but…
The shuttles made by the Taiheng Sect were truly airtight, perhaps due to limited visibility, as the craftsmen didn’t leave even a small translucent gap.
Yin Ci’s eyelid twitched, but he remained silent.
After a moment, he turned around and said, “In that case, I’ll make some sweet soup. It’ll be easier to consume on the journey.”
Watching Yin Ci’s back, Shi Jingzhi’s astonishment and helplessness disappeared without a trace. He quickly looked at Shi Zhongyu and swiftly regained his usual diplomatic demeanor. “A day and a half? That’s excellent. Thank you, Miss Shi.”
He pondered for a moment, and then added, “I think these protective shuttles are quite heavy. They might slow down the Arrow Horses’ speed. Our sect doesn’t have much luggage, so four shuttles is excessive. Three should be enough.”
Shi Zhongyu was taken aback. “But…”
The shuttles had reserved space for personal belongings, and two people could fit in them comfortably. However, the space was limited, and few people would willingly get so intimately close to each other.
“Three will be enough.” Shi Jingzhi smiled. “To be honest, I have some ailments that require others’ care. I can’t manage alone for such a long time.”
After speaking, he even intentionally spat out a small mouthful of blood.
Yan Qing and Su Si: “…”
The Sect Master’s skill at speaking lies with a straight face was truly unparalleled. If they didn’t know the truth, they would have believed it to be true.
Unfortunately, the two young individuals were too thin-skinned and couldn’t stick to people as closely as the Sect Master did. Moreover, to let the horse drag him along, Yan Qing had to hold the Sword of Compassion throughout the journey. If Su Si were really close to him, they would likely finish the journey in a day and a half, with Su Si’s life hanging by a thread due to the beating given by the Sword of Compassion.
No, it was absolutely not possible.
The two of them swiftly slipped into their respective protective shuttles, afraid that Sect Master Shi would prioritize efficiency and reduce the weight by another shuttle.
When Yin Ci returned after making the sweet soup, he noticed that the four shuttles had become three. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but he didn’t say anything. He distributed the sweet soup and quietly entered his own protective shuttle.
After closing the shuttle, a faint sound of breaking through the air came from outside. As they set off, as Yin Ci had expected, a thick darkness crowded in from all sides.
Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci lay back to back, which gently rose and fell with their breaths. Their long hair intertwined, indistinguishable, and warmed by the temperature of their backs.
The presence of the other person was so palpable that the darkness in front of them seemed to thin out slightly.
Shi Jingzhi didn’t explain why he reduced the number of shuttles. He simply relaxed his body and let out even, relaxed breaths.
To be honest, if Shi Jingzhi hadn’t voluntarily reduced the number of shuttles, Yin Ci wouldn’t have spoken up. He had long forgotten the taste of showing weakness, and now that he was mentally stable again, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to grit his teeth and endure.
Yin Ci had expected this to be a torture lasting a day and a half. Little did he know that Shi Jingzhi would lie down beside him, turning the torture into a rest during the journey.
Indeed, the inner demon of the Buddha Heart Formation had made him blind, and every morning, he would confirm whether Shi Jingzhi was by his side. He had already revealed many subtle flaws, so it wasn’t surprising to be discovered as someone afraid of the dark.
With his eyes half-closed, Yin Ci sighed for the hundredth time, feeling fortunate for his foolish cheap master.
If Shi Jingzhi were a little more foolish, he would be even easier to deal with. Little did he know that this person was a genius at sticking close to others’ hearts. Just by pointing out one aspect of “human nature”, he quickly grasped how to be more tactful and get along with people.
The feeling of oppression transformed into a soothing warmth, but the intensity remained unchanged.
Yin Ci couldn’t control or manipulate it. Even if he mustered the aura of three hundred years, he couldn’t suppress Shi Jingzhi’s vibrant and lively aura.
Yin Ci couldn’t help but suspect that this guy was born to counter him. He had long trained his heart to be as hard as iron, with only a small crevice of softness, which this person took advantage of to the fullest, making him show a bit of human warmth.
If Yin Ci was like this, let alone other ordinary mortals with normal lifespans.
Shi Jingzhi had always been skilled at observing people, and now he was even more at ease. If he wanted to, given enough time, he could almost make anyone like him.
At this thought, a notion struck like an ice pick, shattering Yin Ci’s mind full of tenderness.
…Based on Shi Jingzhi’s previous behavior, he didn’t understand what it meant to truly get along with others. To achieve that, there couldn’t be anyone staying around Shi Jingzhi for too long.
Not to mention blood relatives, even servants and mentors couldn’t stay for too long. Shi Jingzhi was like a stone thrown into a torrent, unable to cling to the light dust called attachment.
Someone capable of doing such things must have known from the beginning what they needed to guard against and what Shi Jingzhi was. Since they took precautions down to the level of a ban on a three-year-old child, why would they spare Shi Jingzhi’s life? And why let him roam freely now?
Yin Ci didn’t believe it was solely out of “kindness”.
It was apparent that Shi Jingzhi had a certain understanding of his background and had concerns. He didn’t intrude based on their past but allowed Yin Ci to personally choose to “go to him”.
Unfortunately, his cheap master thought he had come up with a tricky question, but the answer he could provide was only one.
He hoped this journey to break the ban would allow him to firmly grasp the fox’s tail of this person.
Yin Ci turned over and moved closer. Shi Jingzhi’s body temperature was already high, and his nose touched the black hair of the other person. He squinted his eyes and enjoyed the warmth.
Shi Jingzhi noticed Yin Ci’s slight movement and smiled. “So, A’Ci is afraid of the cold.”
Yin Ci admitted frankly, “Yes.”
He took advantage of the situation and got even closer. Darkness enveloped his eyes, blending the past and the present into one. Yin Ci almost reached out his arms to embrace the source of warmth in front of him, but when he touched the waist of an adult man, he retracted his hand.
When the Little Mute was still small, Yin Ci could easily hold him tight. The Little Mute loved to sleep on his chest, drooling and wrinkling Yin Ci’s fine clothes.
That child also had a high body temperature. Yin Ci protected him in his arms, as if holding a soft sun. That warmth was comforting, so Yin Ci silently allowed the brat to mess up his clothes.
Now, Shi Jingzhi was bigger than him. Fortunately, this person hadn’t grown into a burly man with a tiger’s back and bear’s waist*. Yin Ci could still wrap his arms around his waist.
*Metaphor for someone who’s big and stout.
Unfortunately, the Little Mute from years ago had grown into an adult. The two of them squeezing into this narrow space made their actions seem frivolous.
Yin Ci retracted his arms and changed the topic. “Speaking of ‘fear’, I’ve wanted to ask for a long time. Why is Shizun so afraid of ghosts?”
In his impression, both the Little Mute and Shi Jingzhi had always been brave. Even when facing gods and buddhas, they had an air of fearlessness, as if saying, “I’m not afraid of anything. What can you do to me?”
But his cheap master looked down on everything, was versatile in his interactions, yet he was afraid of ghosts. It really puzzled Yin Ci.
Shi Jingzhi stiffened for a moment.
“It’s not that I’m very afraid.”
He expressed himself quite seriously.
“When encountering unprecedented abnormal things, it’s not a big deal to be a little scared. As a master, I cherish my life, so I should pay more attention to these, um, details.”
Yin Ci stared at the back of Shi Jingzhi’s head with a smile.
“And I always feel like I should be afraid.” Shi Jingzhi muttered. “It’s a bit strange when you put it that way… It shouldn’t be the case…”
The relaxed tone in his voice suddenly disappeared, causing Yin Ci’s heart to skip a beat—
Shi Jingzhi’s steady breathing suddenly became rapid, and his body trembled slightly.
“Shizun?”
“Uh.” Shi Jingzhi weakly replied, “It’s nothing. I’ll just… sleep for a while.”
Yin Ci mercilessly grabbed his wrist. As expected, Shi Jingzhi’s heartbeat was chaotic, and he had a thin layer of sweat on his body. It didn’t look like his usual illness, but more like the ban was acting up.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just a headache. It won’t endanger my life, I know it,” Shi Jingzhi said weakly. “Everything will be fine once we arrive at Mishan Sect. A’Ci, let’s just sleep and conserve our energy.”
They were lying down peacefully, so why did it suddenly act up?
However, Shi Jingzhi clearly didn’t want to talk about it, so Yin Ci had no choice but to move his body and embrace him. He covered the back of Shi Jingzhi’s cold neck with his palm and massaged the acupoints on his head with his other hand.
Shi Jingzhi let out a painful yet relieved breath and buried his face in Yin Ci’s chest.
The pain of the ban was like tearing open an unhealed wound. Shi Jingzhi felt as if thousands of needles were randomly poking his brain, making it almost cease functioning.
Abbot Juefei was truly worthy of being a great master, so he immediately advised him to go to the Mishan Sect. Back then, he had insisted on finding the Shirou, not knowing how much suffering he would endure.
Ever since the Greed Butterflies activated the ban, the attacks had become unpredictable. A single word, a faint scent, and the pain would follow without him realizing their connection to the past.
But it was a human flaw that the more one knew they shouldn’t think about something, the more unstoppable the thoughts became.
Yin Ci’s fingers were warm and powerful, and he accurately massaged the acupoints. Shi Jingzhi found a moment of relief and buried his nose in the fabric of Yin Ci’s clothes, taking a careful sniff.
Yin Ci’s scent was somewhat astringent, but it didn’t resemble medicine. He smelled like soil from a grave, soaked in blood for too long, blending into a sinister fragrance that instinctively made one want to stay away.
However, Shi Jingzhi found that this scent brought him an extreme sense of peace, even causing his eyes to feel a bit sour.
His head throbbed even more.
On one hand, there was the intense pain in his head, and on the other hand, there was the usual throbbing in his meridians. The two sensations overlapped, finally giving him the appearance of a dying person. Shi Jingzhi tightly closed his eyes and struggled to gather the fragmented memories in his chaotic mind.
His pain completely alarmed Yin Ci, who firmly held him without hesitation. “Clear your mind, focus! Don’t recall anymore.”
But he wanted to remember.
Although it was painful, Shi Jingzhi always felt as if his fingertips were already touching something. He had long grown accustomed to pain, and he didn’t want it to stop.
Perhaps this could be considered self-harm, but without any wounds, even if Yin Ci became angry because of it, he wouldn’t be too furious. Shi Jingzhi hazily thought this while continuing to sniff Yin Ci’s scent trying to dig deeper into his memories.
Why was he so afraid of ghosts?
In the hazy state, the fiery red maple forest appeared once again. Just as Shi Jingzhi was about to delve deeper, he was startled by a touch on his waist.
Yin Ci freed up one hand and held onto his waist tightly.
The fleeting phantom of those memories dispersed, and the headache lessened slightly. Shi Jingzhi felt Yin Ci’s hand holding his, unsure of what expression to show.
They had embraced each other before, but every embrace had a reason.
Protection, or putting on a show, or when the situation was critical, seeking the comfort of skin-to-skin contact.
But what about now?
Now, neither of them needed physical protection, nor did they need to put on a show. There was no imminent danger. Yin Ci’s breathing became slightly faster, clearly indicating his anger. The hand that held him was tight, and Shi Jingzhi didn’t dare use his inner force to break free.
Having another person pressed against him was indeed warm, Shi Jingzhi thought hazily.
Not only was he unable to concentrate, but an unfamiliar emotion made his hair stand on end and his neck tingle.
“Now behave yourself. When we arrive at the Mishan Sect, think whatever you want,” Yin Ci said in a deep voice. “What? Do you think I can’t tell the severity of your headache? Are you going to keep getting caught up in trivial matters?”
“I won’t, I won’t. I won’t do it next time.” The residual pain in his head made Shi Jingzhi grumble in response.
Who knew what this close warmth had touched, but the ban kicked up a storm in his mind. Before Shi Jingzhi could close his mouth, he let out a loud yell.
Yin Ci: “…”
Shi Jingzhi: “…” He felt wronged—truly wronged.
Yin Ci let out a cold laugh and released his hand that was wrapped around Shi Jingzhi’s waist. He disregarded any master-disciple etiquette and propped himself up on his elbows, half pressing against Shi Jingzhi’s body. A cold aura emanated from him, flowing downward. “Shizun, you’re quick to dare the ‘next time’.”
His long hair cascaded like flowing water, forming a small pile on Shi Jingzhi’s chest. The smooth strands of hair brushed through the air, intensifying Yin Ci’s chilly scent.
The ban stirred again, and for a moment, Shi Jingzhi couldn’t tell if this person intended to save him or provoke him.
There were advantages too—being in the darkness heightened his sense of touch, making the weight and breath of the person even more distinct. Shi Jingzhi had never been so intimately close to another person, and half of his mind was rusted, lacking the strength to activate the ban.
“I’ll think about it. Since words mean nothing to you, what would be a suitable punishment?”
Yin Ci was very close, and his voice was low, as if pressing on Shi Jingzhi’s acupoint with his voice.
Shi Jingzhi held his breath and concentrated like a confused and bewildered plank of wood. This time, his disciple’s momentum was overwhelming, and he had an intuition that it wouldn’t be as simple as “no specially made breakfast”. He anxiously waited for a while, but instead of a continuation, he was met with trembling from Yin Ci.
…This person was trying to hold back laughter.
“A’Ci, are you teasing me?” Shi Jingzhi was still a bit dazed.
“At the very least, Shizun is completely distracted now.”
Shi Jingzhi felt annoyed, but he had to admit that this person’s methods were effective, and he truly had nothing to say.
“Let’s sleep.” Yin Ci moved away from him and resumed the position of embracing Shi Jingzhi.
This time, they were face to face, and the ban didn’t act up again. Shi Jingzhi, taking comfort in this inexplicable sense of peace, slowly closed his eyes.
After an unknown period of time, the protective shuttle suddenly came to an abrupt stop.
Yin Ci held him tightly in his arms, ensuring his head and neck weren’t impacted. The shuttle opened, and daylight spilled in, accompanied by a chilling breeze mixed with snowflakes, causing Shi Jingzhi to shudder.
The cold wind blew away the fleeting thoughts, and the two of them stepped out of the shuttle and onto the soft snow.
While the Central Plains had a hint of spring, the Northern Region was still filled with endless cold winds. The Arrow Horses grumbled; their breath creating steaming pits in the snow. The ground was covered with a thick layer of snow, reminiscent of the desolate mountains from over a month ago.
The sky was covered in dense clouds, and fine snowflakes floated down. In the distance, the mountains stretched endlessly, and all was silent.
“The Mishan Sect has set up a demon-quelling formation nearby, so the Arrow Horses are reluctant to move forward.”
Shi Zhongyu draped a thick cloak around herself. After a day and a night, despite the protection of her magical treasure, her nose and ears were still red from the cold wind, and a hint of exhaustion could be seen in her eyes.
“Once we cross that small mountain, it will be entirely the Mishan Sect’s territory facing us.”
Yan Qing curiously asked, “Entirely? I’ve seen the map, and it seems almost the size of a small country over there.”
Shi Zhongyu’s attitude toward Yan Qing remained good. “That’s correct. This is the northernmost part of Great Yun. To the west is the kingdom of Qituo, and to the east is Luojiu. Divided by the mountains, there used to be a small country called Milan.”
Shi Jingzhi continued the explanation, “Over two hundred years ago, there was internal turmoil in Milan. Great Yun took the opportunity to conquer it. The Queen of Milan was skilled in magic, and her supporters were obsessed with formations and spells. After Milan’s downfall, these people took refuge in their homeland, which eventually became the embryonic form of the Mishan Sect.”
As his attention shifted, the headache quietly disappeared, and he felt refreshed.
Su Si held the trembling Lord Bai tightly. “Shouldn’t the Mishan Sect hold a grudge against Great Yun? Why would they still have dealings with the martial world of the Central Plains?”
“The last Queen of Milan was originally from Great Yun.”
Shi Zhongyu’s expression became somewhat complicated.
“She was originally the princess of the Yun Dynasty and was married off to Milan in her sixteenth year. After ten years of bloodshed and chaos, she climbed to the pinnacle of power. She was a woman who could topple nations, with extraordinary wit and calculations… but she was also cruel and ruthless.”
“She brought the entire nation of Milan to its peak and then pushed it down from the heights, causing the entire country to fall into turmoil. The emperor at the time seized this opportunity and conquered Milan in one fell swoop. The Queen of Milan leaped off a glacier and died at the age of twenty-seven.”
Yin Ci had indeed heard about this incident. At that time, Milan was already in a state of turmoil, and even if the Yun Dynasty hadn’t intervened, Qituo and Luojiu wouldn’t have let go of such a juicy piece of meat.
The royal family of Milan at that time had been completely wiped out by Queen Xu Luo, and their bloodline had been severed. The people had also been tossed around to the point where they were barely clinging to life, becoming scattered and unable to produce strong animosity.
The last glorious moments of Milan could only be glimpsed through the magic of the Mishan Sect.
“Enough, I’ll teach these two little ones a lesson when I get back. But current matters are more urgent.”
Shi Jingzhi timely returned to the topic and unfolded the letter from Abbot Juefei.
“After crossing this mountain, if we continue for half a day, we’ll arrive at Chen Qianfan’s place, where Senior Chen resides.”
Shi Zhongyu pursed her lips and exhaled a big breath of white vapor.
“You all go ahead first, and I’ll follow half a day later. Consider it as if I’m trailing behind you, and you can pretend not to know.”
She didn’t move, her expression somewhat bitter.
Shi Jingzhi raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had this feeling back when they were at the Qu Clan’s residence—despite their cooperation, Shi Zhongyu always kept a certain distance from them.
Even when she noticed the addition of two “new faces” in the Kushan Sect, she didn’t show any interest or inquire about it.
She had been helpful and had also sold them favors. If this were in the past, Shi Jingzhi would have avoided getting involved in the troubles of Taiheng. However, the timing of Taiheng’s matter was suspicious, and coupled with Shi Zhongyu’s unwillingness to abandon a dying person, he appreciated her empathy.
Shi Jingzhi couldn’t help but stop in his tracks. He was about to ponder further when Yin Ci gently pushed him forward.
Receiving support, Shi Jingzhi’s wavering disappeared instantly. “Time waits for no one, and the situation of Sect Master Qi is critical. Even half a day is precious. Miss Shi, if you have any difficulties, you may as well speak up and let us hear it.”
Shi Zhongyu’s complexion became complicated, indicating her hesitation. “It’s nothing. My request is somewhat unreasonable, and I’m afraid it may offend the members of the Mishan Sect. We all came with our own purposes, and I don’t want to involve Sect Master Shi.”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t back down. “I have long heard of Taiheng’s benevolence and righteousness. Yet, this time, you have been obstructing us at every turn. If it’s just to save some gold and silver, it’s truly disappointing. Now you say it may clash with the Mishan Sect… Miss Shi, what’s the story behind Master Qi Xundao’s illness?”
Shi Zhongyu embraced her Green Maiden Sword tightly, as if only that cold, lifeless object could give her some peace of mind.
She stood there quietly for a while, but Shi Jingzhi’s persistence didn’t waver. She finally sighed and spoke again.
“A few days after we retrieved the treasure map, Sect Master Qi suddenly had a high fever and fell into a deep sleep. Our sect has many renowned doctors, but the symptoms were too few for anyone to make sense of. With the turmoil in the martial world, the news of the sect leader’s serious illness would undoubtedly have a significant impact, so our sect kept the information hidden.”
“Despite what Duanyun said, at the beginning, everyone put in their best efforts. But the sect leader’s condition deteriorated rapidly, displaying signs of being at death’s door. After a few days, we could only sustain him with herbal medicine. At first, for ten days, no one had any objections. But after half a month…”
Shi Zhongyu wore a bitter expression, hesitating to speak, and eventually changed the topic.
“Taiheng is currently facing numerous troubles, and Sect Master Qi’s meridians have already deteriorated, making it impossible to return to the past. Even if he were to recover from this illness, he wouldn’t be able to continue as the sect leader of Taiheng.”
Shi Jingzhi understood.
Taiheng’s money didn’t come from thin air. Aside from the government’s support, they also had fertile fields, flourishing forests, shops, and escorts. These livelihoods required financial support, and it wouldn’t be easy to expend such resources for just one person.
At present, Sect Master Qi was either being sustained by medicinal soup, slowly dying in a coma, or being forcibly saved as a disabled person for a few more years. In either case, it would require Taiheng to invest significant manpower, resources, and wealth.
There were no filial sons in front of long-term illness. As a large sect, it was difficult for everyone to work together, so would Taiheng really, for the sake of a simple sense of “righteousness”, be willing to save a disabled person regardless of the cost?
“Some people want to give up, but I’m giving it my all with another group of people, causing chaos within Taiheng. As things became increasingly chaotic, the elders sent Duanyun to discuss it with me. I understand Duanyun’s concerns, but I… I just feel that Taiheng shouldn’t be like this.”
Shi Zhongyu gently stroked the Green Maiden Sword, lowered her gaze, and her tone became softer.
“For decades, Sect Master Qi has exhausted himself for Taiheng, and his kindness towards me and others is as heavy as a mountain. If there is no hope left for him, I will never force it. But there is clearly hope, and yet we selfishly decided to give up… any other sect could give up, but Taiheng shouldn’t be like this.”
Yin Ci swept his gaze around, and indeed, within the Kushan Sect, there was no unified opinion on this matter—
Yan Qing looked at Shi Zhongyu and nodded with a somewhat emotional agreement. Su Si widened his eyes as if he had witnessed a stubborn donkey becoming enlightened, full of disbelief.
Shi Zhongyu didn’t mention too much about the internal affairs of Taiheng, but Yin Ci could imagine. If giving up was the majority’s decision, she would probably have already been labeled with accusations of “disrupting the sect”, “womanly compassion”, and “ignorance of the current situation”.
No wonder she had been so irritable when they met a few days ago. To withstand that kind of pressure, her backbone had to be exceptionally strong.
Seeing that everyone remained silent for a long time, Shi Zhongyu sheathed her sword, and her expression became calmer.
“That’s the situation. I want to ask the Mishan Sect to save a person who is at the end of their life. The members of the Mishan Sect are proud and arrogant, so they might consider me unreasonable.”
Shi Jingzhi burst into laughter. “Miss Shi, you’re overthinking. Senior Chen Qianfan has the Buddhist name ‘Jueguo’ and used to be a monk at the Jianchen Temple. While others may refuse, an eminent monk of the Jianchen Temple would never get angry over saving a person’s life.”
Shi Zhongyu’s expression changed several times before settling on “relief”.
She raised her fist towards Shi Jingzhi. “Sect Master Shi, you didn’t have to get involved in this matter. Today’s favor, I, Shi Zhongyu, will remember it.”
The road ahead should be relatively easy to traverse.
Thankfully, the Mishan Sect was built on the ruins of Milan, and the area was vast and sparsely populated. Besides the demon-quelling formation, there were no complicated formations or troublesome monsters in sight.
The only danger was perhaps the ruins buried under the snow. Hidden beneath the thick layer of snow, who knew how many unknown dangers lay concealed. As long as one wasn’t careful, stumbling and falling face-first into the snow was a minor matter. Quite possibly, they might even come face to face with a frozen corpse from two hundred years ago.
Sect Master Shi’s mind was elsewhere, and after walking a few steps, he stumbled and nearly had an intimate encounter with a snow-covered human head.
That head had experienced who knew what with its bluish-black swelling, twisted, and deformed. Its facial features were misplaced, and a frozen eyeball had popped out of its eye socket.
Unfortunately, Shi Jingzhi was preoccupied with important matters. When suddenly faced with this difficulty, it caused half of his soul to explode and the ban to fall into complete silence.
When he regained his senses, he found himself clinging to Yin Ci again, and the latter was patiently trying to pull him off.
Shi Zhongyu had witnessed this scene before in the Ghost Tomb and now deliberately averted her gaze, pretending not to have seen anything.
After this incident, Shi Jingzhi completely dismissed the idea of using his physical body to plow through the snow and save energy. He took a deep breath, and his qinggong suddenly soared. He moved as if treading on thin ice, naturally grasping the technique without any guidance.
Fortunately, apart from that, there were no other mishaps. Following Juefei’s instructions, the group arrived at their destination before sunset.
Unexpectedly, Chen Qianfan’s residence had no trace of immortal or Buddhist aura.
He had chosen a ruined Milan trading post and transformed it into a dwelling. The house was indeed spacious, but the exterior was patched up in a strange and mismatched manner. The building still bore scorch marks, and many holes were plugged with demon skin. The surroundings were an endless expanse of snowy plains, emanating a lonely atmosphere that surged up to everyone’s feet.
An elderly woman was the first to notice them.
The old woman seemed to have some Milan lineage. She had slightly curled white hair and a tall nose bridge, but her eyebrows, eyes, and skin resembled those of a typical Central Plains person. Although her dwelling was peculiar, her clothes were clean, and even the damaged areas were carefully embroidered with flowers.
“Hello there,” she rubbed her hands as she greeted in Great Yun’s official language, though not very standard. “Are you here to see Master Chen?”
Shi Jingzhi moved his mask aside and politely greeted her, “May I ask who you are?”
“Good kid. Just call me Granny Wei.”
With a smile on her face, Granny Wei’s wrinkles gathered together.
“Master Chen isn’t here right now but come on in and have a seat first. I’ve cooked some hot soup. It’s not easy for you to travel such a long way… Oh, did you bring a gift? You’ve come a long way; that’s too polite. How about I cook something for you later…”
She caught sight of Lord Bai in Su Si’s arms. The Lord Bai’s feelers instantly tensed up, and it desperately tried to burrow into Su Si’s outer robe.
“The gift is here.” Yan Qing came to the rescue in time and handed over the prepared gift.
Considering that the Mishan Sect was located in a remote area with inconvenient merchant traffic, before their departure, Qu Duanyun had prepared some inexpensive but practical trinkets for them.
“No need to be so polite. I don’t understand these things. We’ll talk about it when Master Chen returns.”
Granny Wei’s smile remained unchanged as she chattered away, leading everyone inside.
The house had been converted from a trading post and had an incredibly spacious front hall.
The left half of the front hall was completely occupied by gray-black slate tiles. The tiles were about three fingers thick, standing on the ground with inscriptions that were incomprehensible. Numerous slate tiles surrounded a table, which was piled high with precarious scrolls and various unnamable instruments.
The gaps between the slate tiles and the table were filled with barrels of mummified monster corpses. The place was freezing cold, and the interior was far from warm. The corpses of the monsters emitted a faint smell of decay, combined with the frigid air, creating an aura of isolation that kept people at a distance.
On the other hand, the right half of the front hall was impeccably clean and neatly arranged. The slate floor was devoid of any specks of dust, and a warm fire burned in the stove. The table was covered with a beautiful, embroidered tablecloth, and even the vase had dried branches tied together to form small flowers.
Granny Wei served them soup one by one. “Master Chen is conducting research, and he goes out to capture monsters every evening. He’s a stickler for time and will come back before dinner. You can wait here at ease. He doesn’t talk much, but he has a good heart and won’t make things difficult for you…”
Yan Qing couldn’t bear to see the old woman serving them, so he stood up first. As a result, the table was lighter than they had anticipated, and the entire table shook when he stood up, splashing some soup onto Granny Wei’s gloves.
“Granny, I apologize. Let me help you out, you…”
Yan Qing apologized halfway but couldn’t continue.
Granny Wei smiled and took off her gloves, revealing a hand covered in densely engraved blood-red patterns. Layers upon layers of magic arrays intertwined on her hand, making it dizzying to look at.
The patterns were incredibly intricate and complex, to the point where even Yin Ci couldn’t make sense of them at a glance.
The old woman didn’t think much of it herself. She seemed used to it and swiftly changed into a new pair of gloves. “Oh, you can just sit there. I’m quite strong and robust. Master Chen said that while staying here, you should move around more to invigorate your blood and loosen your muscles.”
No one dared to move this time.
Yan Qing obediently sat back in his chair, placing his hands on his thighs.
Granny Wei served herself a bowl of soup and leisurely drank it. “It’s fine, don’t worry about Master Chen. You all go ahead and drink. It’s cold here, and not drinking will make you feel chilly.”
Yin Ci was the first to pick up his bowl and take a sip. The soup had a gentle flavor and didn’t contain any strange ingredients. However, it lacked even a hint of saltiness, possibly due to some special preparation method in this place.
With Abbott Juefei as their guarantor and Yin Ci taking the first sip of the soup, everyone mechanically drank the hot soup without taste and continued to wait with a brave face.
Finally, as the sun set, the door opened.
Chen Qianfan returned in triumph with a large basket filled with bloody monster corpses.
Noon, 12:00 GMT, which was 8:00 PM local time in China.
Around this time, ordinary working-class families had just finished dinner, and most of them were enjoying happy family time together. Fathers were washing dishes or helping their children with homework, while mothers tuned the TV to the primetime drama channel.
However, today, Yongchuan TV suspended the airing of its usual xianxia* drama and started uninterrupted live coverage of the latest developments in the Nao Kangning adverse reaction and the follow-up mass poisoning case.
*Basically Chinese fantasy involving immortals heavily inspired by Chinese mythology.
In the studio of Yongchuan TV, more than ten experts and professors had appeared to analyze and comment on the letters from the sociopath and Lin Chen’s reply representing the government. Even the four criminals selected by Lin Chen were thoroughly investigated, and without the need for official disclosure, reporters had already dug into their personal backgrounds and criminal histories.
The well-built man named Zhao Yi was the leader of a criminal gang, involved in running illegal gambling establishments, and had forced debtors to their deaths. He had also injured a police officer during an arrest. He represented the most traditional kind of crime boss.
The dark-skinned man named Qian Bao was involved in fraud. He had a small storefront in a market and ran a P2P fundraising scam, which resulted in an elderly person’s death due to a stroke caused from being swindled.
The man with tattoos all over his head was named Sun Zhen, a murderer who accidentally killed a shop owner during a dispute at a barbecue stall. Before that incident, Sun Zhen’s frequency of visits to the detention center had been alarmingly high.
To be honest, except for Yan Guiqiu, the other three were indeed criminals with a long history of wrongdoing. But among the four, there was Yan Guiqiu, a skinny and foolish petty thief.
The woman leaned back on the sofa and didn’t feel any annoyance at the interruption of her favorite drama. She was genuinely engrossed in the news content.
The female anchor, who had previously read the letter and reply, had taken a break as her on-duty time was too long and was temporarily replaced by a male colleague.
The male anchor said, “Up until now, the police have not received any formal response from the responsible party in the poisoning attack. However, there have been no further cases of poisoning in various cities.” The host continued, “With fifteen minutes left until the appointed time, let’s focus on the latest visit to the online voting website that the police launched at 18:00 sharp.”
The LCD TV displayed a website ending with .ORG, with simple white text on a black background, indicating that it was a simple voting website to decide the life and death of the four criminals. It didn’t belong to the dark web; instead, it was a voting website purely made by the police, and anyone could open their browser and access it.
The host had already demonstrated the specific process of real-name registration and voting to the audience, but since it wasn’t yet the appointed time, they could only report on the real-time visitor count displayed at the bottom of the website.
“Now, it’s 7:48 PM in China, and we can see that the real-time visitor count mentioned in the police’s reply has reached 256,000. As we approach 8:00 PM, the number of visitors is increasing rapidly.”
Just as the host was speaking, the visitor count reached 3 at the beginning, and even the highly professional male anchor widened his pupils and revealed a shocked expression upon seeing this scene.
However, he quickly adjusted his emotions, steadied his breath, and said seriously, “Let’s move on to the next news.” The handsome male anchor looked at the teleprompter and reported, “As of 7:50 PM in China, the Goose Forum website’s public opinion survey shows that over 65% of the people believe that innocent civilians have more reason to live than hardened criminals. The remaining 31% of people cannot decide, and only 4% of people chose the option that the criminals should be allowed to live.”
The man washing dishes in the kitchen was dissatisfied with this and couldn’t help but shout, “I knew there are so many perverts in this society, actually thinking that innocent people have more reason to live than criminals!”
“Why is your voice so loud? Our son is doing his homework. Can’t you lower your voice?” The woman lowered the TV volume and warned the man in the kitchen in a hushed tone.
However, she didn’t realize that her son, who was doing homework in the study, didn’t obediently follow her words. Thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boys were at an age when curiosity was at its peak, and coupled with such a major social event, how could he resist the urge to secretly browse social media?
The boy switched to the mobile browser screen and quickly typed a line of text.
@MugglesEatEggs*: [Excited, excited! Only eight minutes left.]
*I’m pretty sure the Muggles is referencing Harry Potter.
@ComingAndGoing: [Really? Do you guys really think the big boss will agree with the police uncle’s proposal?]
@MugglesEatEggs: [Even if the police are making a fuss, it’s quite fun. In any case, the results will be out soon, and we’ll know in eight minutes.]
@TomatoFriedEggs: [I’ve been squatting on the dark web already (don’t doubt the word order because it’s censored).]
@ComingAndGoing: [OMG, how do you know the specific website address? Great expert, please teach me, I also want to witness history!]
@TomatoFriedEggs: [No.]
……
Similar or completely different discussions were taking place on various social platforms, converging into a massive information flow, pouring into the command center of the Hongjing Municipal Bureau.
19:55.
At this moment, the entire wall of the command hall was filled with projected screens displaying the continuous live broadcast from Yongchuan TV and various major online streaming platforms.
The main part of the screen was all white, but one could still tell it was a full-screen browser window. After all, everyone was familiar with the words “This page cannot be displayed”, which was the web address that was previously used to bet on in the dark web for their surrounding cities—the agreed location between Lin Chen and the other party.
Within a few hours, nothing happened, indicating the other party was also thinking.
However, the browser address part was covered with a thick mosaic.
The officer in charge of the live broadcast was named Zhou Quan, a key member of the Jiangxia Provincial Public Security Department’s Information Technology Division.
After checking the connection lines and systems, ensuring his code was thick enough, he synchronized the system time with the Greenwich Observatory time again and fell into a restless waiting mood as the countdown began.
He rubbed his hands and looked around, realizing that there were still five minutes left. People in the hall were still whispering to each other.
Different discussions filled the room. He nudged his colleague responsible for the live broadcast next to him. “Have you ever thought about why Consultant Lin used Greenwich time*?”
*Is the mean solar time at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, London, counted from midnight. At different times in the past, it has been calculated in different ways, including being calculated from noon; as a consequence, it cannot be used to specify a particular time unless a context is given.
“Because the other party may be in a foreign country. Having a unified time point is better,” his colleague replied casually, still focusing on the main screen.
“What kind of reason is that?” Zhou Quan shrugged and scanned the entire hall with a prolonged neck. The atmosphere on-site wasn’t too heavy—at least much better than when they were ordered to enter the command center.
The operators were assigned to another area, and the higher-ups were all waiting in glass rooms. One minute passed, and the footsteps in the hall gradually stopped.
Because of the silence, Zhou Quan finally realized what was missing.
“Where’s that kid?” He remembered the teenager who had been instructing them in internet monitoring. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he last saw the other person. “His name is Wang Chao, right?”
“Oh, the one from the Network Division of the Hongjing Municipal Bureau,” his colleague from the same department replied casually.
Zhou Quan’s eyes lit up. “He was here earlier. Why isn’t he on duty now? How long has he been gone? Is he on a secret mission?”
Before his “Ah” could be fully spoken, he received a heavy scolding.
The public opinion expert in charge of commanding the entire live broadcast operation glared at him as a warning, making him instinctively shrink his neck and remain silent. But Zhou Quan thought that this seemingly unrealistic guess couldn’t be blamed on himself.
After all, Consultant Lin’s plan was so simple and straightforward. If the mastermind behind the scenes was still playing a magnificent killing game, then Lin Chen was directly handing over a sharp knife gleaming with cold light and asking the mastermind, “Do you want to use it to kill the four criminals?”
Who would be foolish enough to accept?
Zhou Quan’s thoughts drifted far away, filled with various random ideas, and he almost amused himself. He leaned back in his chair. It was 60 seconds away from the agreed time, and there was no sound in the command hall anymore.
Even the busiest people temporarily put down their work and looked up at the coarse-grained image on the display screen.
The air was extremely quiet, which made it seem even more grand.
As the second hand went halfway around the clock, Zhou Quan found that he couldn’t laugh anymore. He had always thought that his mentality was strong, but in these short 30 seconds, he found that his facial muscles were sore from clenching his teeth.
He couldn’t help but relax his jaw, and at that moment, the second hand also passed number 11 without any mercy.
Zhou Quan quickly shifted his gaze to the main display screen, and the atmosphere of the image weighed heavily on his chest.
Clearly, nothing had happened, yet why did it still feel heavy?
As he thought this, the second hand dutifully completed the last grid, and the web page refreshed automatically at its fixed frequency. Zhou Quan blinked lightly.
The words “This page cannot be displayed” were gone.
Unlike the countless scenes they had imagined and anticipated before, the transition of the webpage was very calm and serene, as if the first drop of rain had fallen from the sky, revealing an entirely new picture.
It was a short video, and people didn’t have time to carefully observe what the webpage carrying the video had transformed into. They instinctively stared at the screen.
In the video, there was a fast-forwarded footage showing a patient going crazy on the bed but completely regaining consciousness after being injected with some kind of medication. The hospital room was clean and white, and the video was relatively short and quick, with no significant changes in the lighting outside the window.
Anyone who watched the video could quickly understand its significance—it clearly implied that the detoxifying agent mentioned in Lin Chen’s reply was a real thing.
Zhou Quan’s mind exploded, and a myriad of information raced through his thoughts. He needed strong self-control to eliminate emotional interference and understand what this really meant.
Did it mean that the other side had actually accepted the new voting proposal that even a fool would refuse?
The other side even provided a short video, leaving no room for ambiguity: The four criminals needed to die, and the antidote would be theirs.
But…
Who could prove the authenticity of this video and the effectiveness of the antidote?
Zhou Quan even disregarded the live broadcast signal. He dragged the mouse and thoroughly checked the .onion ending website on his own small screen.
There were no specific descriptions of the therapeutic effects or any experimental reports, nor were there any fancy retro gold coin effects.
Besides this opening video, the website only had a simple multiple-choice question on a black background with white text, written in six languages:
—I believe that sacrificing the lives of four criminals in exchange for a drug that can save more people is worth it.
Kinky Translations 