Xing Conglian felt as if cold water had been poured over his head.
Lin Chen’s deep black eyes held no tears, appearing calm and hopeless, devoid of vitality.
Xing Conglian’s mind went blank for a moment, and it took a while for his rationality to return, but the sense of panic still lingered.
However, he was well aware that if he lost control now, Lin Chen would have no one to rely on.
Therefore, he slowly sat up and pulled Lin Chen up as well. They sat cross-legged facing each other on the empty bed board, with an arm’s length between them, like adults who had no romantic relationship, engaging in conversation.
Xing Conglian took a deep breath and spoke seriously, “Setting aside our romantic relationship, Consultant Lin, you must understand that I am your superior.”
“I understand.” Lin Chen tried to gather his strength, but Xing Conglian knew that his current state was very strained.
“At such a critical juncture, I must have a clear understanding of your mental condition to determine if you can continue in your position.”
Lin Chen nodded. Sitting cross-legged, he exposed a pale ankle in the sunlight. “I understand, Captain Xing.”
“Therefore, based on my trust in your professional abilities, I now, in my capacity as your superior, request that you perform a self-diagnosis of your mental state.”
Lin Chen had already guessed that he would make such a request. He slowly turned around, picked up the phone from the bedside table again, and opened another page before handing it over.
Xing Conglian glanced at Lin Chen, then lowered his head and slowly scrolled through the page’s information.
*Created by Aaron T. Beck, is a 21-question multiple-choice self-report inventory, one of the most widely used psychometric tests for measuring the severity of depression. Its development marked a shift among mental health professionals, who had until then, viewed depression from a psychodynamic perspective, instead of it being rooted in the patient’s own thoughts.
Test Instructions:
Please carefully read each item and select the appropriate response based on your actual situation (in the past week, including today) from the four options provided after each question…
Question:
Mood
……
As Xing Conglian followed the selections made by Lin Chen, he continuously scrolled down the page. Each line of options brought him closer to understanding Lin Chen’s true mental state.
By the end, he didn’t even need to look at the score to understand why Lin Chen had laid such a long foundation earlier.
Item 1
Factor Name: Total Score
Factor Score: 41.00*
*Clarity: A score of 41 means severe depression (which is within the worse range 30-63).
He put down the phone, and when he looked up, Lin Chen’s mind seemed to be wandering, lost in thought.
“41 points. According to the standard in our country, I should go see a psychologist. But luckily, I am one myself,” Lin Chen said. “But it doesn’t mean that I have depression. I just assessed my short-term state.”
Xing Conglian pondered for a moment and calmly asked, “So, how long will this condition last? Do you need medication, and to what extent will it affect your work?”
“As soon as I woke up, I felt this abnormality, and this state of mental depression has been worsening over time.” Lin Chen maintained a sharp and professional posture, but his tone was slow. “Just before you came in, the instant I found my phone, I suddenly wondered why I was doing all this. We cannot achieve victory. I felt an overwhelming darkness in life, and everything became meaningless.” He paused for a long while before continuing, “So, I stopped and found the SDS scale, and I did a self-assessment. The results weren’t good.” Lin Chen finished speaking and looked up at Xing Conglian. “You should also sense that I have signs of psychomotor retardation. And when we were lying on this bed just now, I had a strong desire to continue lying there, doing nothing, until death.”
Lin Chen spoke with utmost seriousness, as if reporting his work to a superior, but it was more like the most brutal self-analysis. “I feel very down and depressed right now. I desperately want to experience the joy that normal people feel and make life full of hope, so I want to go find Shen Lian.”
“I disagree,” Xing Conglian replied. He paused and continued, “I won’t agree to you seeking help from Shen Lian for the purpose of obtaining relief through medication. Similarly, if you were to go to Xiao Zhan to obtain TERN isomers, I would stop you as well.”
Lin Chen suddenly looked up, and Xing Conglian watched as his lover became visibly choked up. This was not the emotional response that Lin Chen would have under normal circumstances.
But then, Lin Chen forcefully composed his emotions. If the concept of a soul truly existed, the part belonging to Lin Chen himself would undoubtedly be incredibly resilient and persistent.
Lin Chen said, “Thank you, but you also know very well, Captain Xing, that you don’t have any other choice. I have to go find Shen Lian, although not right now.”
Xing Conglian said, “All of this is based on the premise that you still have the ability to continue.”
“I have two reasons to prove that I can and should continue,” Lin Chen said clearly and precisely. “First, this is the normal acute withdrawal symptom during the detoxification phase. Xiao Wu experienced a period of time after stopping the medication and has already made a significant recovery. This case proves that I should also have the ability to overcome the effects of the medication. Second, if I stop working now and wait for research to progress to alleviate the physiological condition, then it might truly be too late.”
Lin Chen presented his arguments in a formal report-like manner, and Xing Conglian watched him, longing to pull him close and hold him tightly in his arms. But he also understood that Lin Chen didn’t need that kind of sympathy.
Therefore, he maintained his professional attitude and asked, “On the second point, why will it be too late?”
“During our conversation just now, I suddenly realized that the person orchestrating this grand situation, I think, I might know them.” Lin Chen’s voice sounded buzzing and somewhat low. “I need to go to the library, translate that message, and verify this.”
After saying those words, Lin Chen bowed down, as if he had used up all his strength.
Xing Conglian felt Lin Chen’s forehead against his shoulder, and he lowered his head to see Lin Chen’s black hair. He then opened his palm and firmly held the back of Lin Chen’s head, embracing him tightly.
He kissed the top of Lin Chen’s head, abandoning all sense of responsibility as a superior.
“Thank you, Xing Conglian,” Lin Chen said.
……
Lin Chen was always at the world’s leading level when it came to persuading people.
After the conversation, Lin Chen seemed to have regained some composure, but Xing Conglian was certain that it was a facade to reassure Wang Chao when they walked out of the door.
The Hongjing Library was very close to their home, about a ten-minute walk away.
Although time was tight now and using a computer for literature retrieval would be faster, since Lin Chen wanted to go to the library, Xing Conglian was more than happy to accompany him for a walk outside.
For a total score of 41, it was recommended Lin Chen should confide in someone or vent appropriately when feeling depressed, make an effort to recall past happy experiences, and engage in activities that bring joy. It was also advised to set goals and make plans for one’s life and work. It was recommended to seek professional psychological counseling and treatment as soon as possible.
Xing Conglian recited the advice he had just read once again, and when he looked up, Lin Chen had already walked ahead of him.
At noon, there weren’t many elderly people strolling in the alley, and the shop owners either gathered together for lunch or dozed off at their counters.
Xing Conglian quickened his pace, wanting to catch up and walk side by side with Lin Chen.
Just then, an old man from a nearby souvenir shop came out to bid farewell to a customer. Lin Chen took a quick step forward, deliberately keeping a less intimate distance from him.
Xing Conglian narrowed his eyes, recalling many similar situations in his mind. They had walked this road together many times, but it was the first time he noticed this kind of detail about Lin Chen.
Taking advantage of the moment when Lin Chen nodded and greeted the old man, he brushed against Lin Chen’s side, took his hand, and held it tightly.
Lin Chen’s body visibly tensed, but the old man seemed to have not noticed the scene and turned back into the shop.
“Consultant Lin, how come I didn’t notice when you were pursuing me? Your attitude towards same-sex relationships is unexpectedly conservative.” Of course, he was referring to the moment when Lin Chen pushed him against the wall and kissed him forcefully. Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but click his tongue.
Lin Chen didn’t pull his hand away but instead held it back and simply said, “Society’s acceptance hasn’t reached a level where everyone takes it for granted. There’s no need to deliberately challenge anything…”
“Consultant Lin, if it were still a feudal society, all of these people would be tenants. Have you ever seen a feudal novel where the landlord considers the feelings of the tenants?” Xing Conglian held Lin Chen’s hand. His skin was delicate, and his knuckles were well-proportioned. Xing Conglian held it with great satisfaction, to the point where his tone became natural.
When he said this, Lin Chen finally turned his head and glanced at him.
“I didn’t hide it from you. I told you the first time I took you home,” Xing Conglian interjected, “Where else can you find an honest man like me?”
Hearing this, a helpless expression finally appeared on Lin Chen’s face. However, he didn’t refute him with words, which greatly satisfied Xing Conglian’s vanity.
They had walked this path together many times, with gentle sunlight and the late summer river presenting a lush green color of aquatic plants, creating a sense of tranquility.
When he initially chose to live here, it was because the area was peaceful and had a high level of sophistication, making it suitable as a quiet residence for retirement. However, now the words “retirement” had become a dreadful curse.
Xing Conglian had considered more than once that when Consultant Lin and he pooled their money to buy a new house and pay the down payment, they should first consider things like feng shui. And it would be better to buy a commercial property with only two rooms—a master bedroom and a study—because if there were more rooms, Wang Chao would want to move in too…
But as these thoughts wandered in his mind, they were dispersed by the breeze. Their palms pressed together, and the warmth grew.
Xing Conglian glanced to his side, with Lin Chen walking on his right. His footsteps were light, and his figure was slender yet powerful. His profile was particularly handsome, with his hair growing slightly longer since he hadn’t had time to trim it, covering his ears a bit but still revealing their contours, making people itch to pinch them.
Being the proactive type he was, Xing Conglian immediately raised his other hand and gently brushed away Lin Chen’s dark hair, lightly touching his ears.
Lin Chen immediately turned around; a look of astonishment flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t resist, just appearing somewhat bewildered.
In any case, he looked incredibly adorable.
No pedestrians passed by around them. Xing Conglian took a step back, leaning against a willow tree by the water. He pulled Lin Chen closer, cradling the back of his head, and lowered his head to lick Lin Chen’s lips, feeling a slight dryness, yet they were incredibly soft.
Lin Chen still had his eyes open, looking up at him. The sunlight seeped through the gaps in the leaves, and perhaps because of this, Lin Chen’s previously slightly stern features softened.
Xing Conglian carefully traced the contours of Lin Chen’s face, then lowered his head again and kissed him.
Their teeth touched gently, their mouths warm and sweet, like a dream.
As the breeze blew, Lin Chen closed his eyes and finally embraced him.
Kinky Thoughts:
Generally speaking, even if one is a professional psychologist, they really shouldn’t treat themselves. While as experts they can identify their illness and issues, they have their own biases of themselves, which could affect treatment. There are things (such as the test Lin Chen did) that can help bring some clarity and give them some objectiveness, but it’s still best to see another professional to treat oneself.
Though, many don’t as they fear the stigma (ironically).
Len Chen was very sharp. Upon hearing the words, he rolled over and propped himself up to look at Xing Conglian. With Xing Conglian’s handsome face very close to his nose, Lin Chen raised an eyebrow and keenly remarked, “So, did you peek at my messages?”
“There’s a unified security process in place. The system filters the messages you receive, and if any abnormal information is detected, there will be an alert.” Xing Conglian pulled Lin Chen down and laid back in their previous position. “Look, it’s for your safety, baby. You have to trust me; I would never peek at your messages, and the keywords are definitely not something like ‘darling’ or ‘see you at the usual place tomorrow night’. But this message looked too much like spam, so it slipped through.” Xing Conglian joked, “Besides, I didn’t know if that little brat Wang Chao told you, but later, I’ll go bear that kid up to vent my anger.”
“Actually, I don’t mind if you peek at my messages,” Lin Chen said.
“I really didn’t peek.”
“For others, reading someone’s messages implies a lack of trust or something like that, but for me, if you actually did it, I would be happy,” Lin Chen said. “It would mean that you care about me—that you lack a sense of security in our relationship, afraid that I might run off with someone else. It’s a sign of insecurity. Honestly, I’m not someone who feels very secure either. I also need these normal and ordinary details that come up in a relationship to ascertain that you love me.”
The sound of flowing water outside the window became clearer and clearer. Lin Chen’s breath fell on his neck and chest, while the tone of their conversation flowed like clean and clear water, with each word hitting him in the heart.
Xing Conglian let out a long sigh. Lin Chen always spoke so straightforwardly, making it impossible to resist. He once again found himself in a situation where, no matter how hard he tried to love Lin Chen, it never seemed enough.
But he couldn’t help but wonder if they could still lie down together and talk when they grew older. It would be a truly fortunate life for him if he could still hear Lin Chen’s views on love.
“I love you. I’m very certain of it,” Xing Conglian said.
……
Lin Chen rested his head on Xing Conglian’s shoulder.
The bed had no soft mattress or bedsheet, and the rough feeling was very uncomfortable.
Xing Conglian’s shoulder joint was stiff, and his chest was wrapped in strong muscles underneath the shoulder. Lin Chen had to lean against this position, which was quite uncomfortable.
Seeing Xing Conglian’s posture, Lin Chen knew that he hadn’t had much experience in relationships. His movements were stiff, but luckily, the feeling of his voice constantly passing through his chest and into his ears was pleasant. Therefore, he changed his strategy.
He turned to his side and reached out to embrace the other person’s waist. Feeling like it wasn’t enough, he also pressed his leg on top.
This action wasn’t aesthetically pleasing, but it was very comfortable and reassuring.
Because of the comfort, they could talk more and go deeper.
“We haven’t finished talking about your grandmother,” Lin Chen patted Xing Conglian’s buttocks and said softly.
Xing Conglian kissed his ear and calmly said, “My grandmother ultimately committed suicide.” Xing Conglian’s voice was long and distant. “She ate a bullet and died a heroic death.”
Lin Chen wasn’t surprised. From the moment Xing Conglian mentioned it, he believed this was the inevitable outcome.
The clouds outside the window glided by in a soothing and unpredictable manner. Lin Chen closed his eyes and asked in a low voice, “Some kind of mental or psychological illness?”
“Alzheimer’s*. I was still young back then and didn’t understand much,” Xing Conglian said. “But even then, I wondered, why is the human brain so strange? My grandmother had such a grand and magnificent life, but as she grew old, she became like an extremely immature child, gradually forgetting everything. I remember when she saw me for the last time, she mistook me for her childhood playmate and pulled me, wanting to ride a black bear.”
*Neurodegenerative disease that usually starts slowly and progressively worsens. It is the cause of 60–70% of cases of dementia. The most common early symptom is difficulty in remembering recent events. As the disease advances, symptoms can include problems with language, disorientation (including easily getting lost), mood swings, loss of motivation, self-neglect, and behavioral issues. As a person’s condition declines, they often withdraw from family and society. Gradually, bodily functions are lost, ultimately leading to death.
As Xing Conglian spoke of this past, his tone carried confusion and puzzlement, but Lin Chen was certain that Xing Conglian had a purpose in telling this story.
However, at this moment, he just wanted to listen to Xing Conglian talk about his past.
“And then?”
“And then… there was no ‘then’. The family couldn’t do anything about it because it’s an incurable disease. And since my grandma had the highest seniority in the family, all they could do was bring her a docile black bear. It had to be ensured that the bear wouldn’t harm anyone, had a gentle temperament, and also prevented the old lady from shooting the bear. In short, those years were chaotic in our household. Then, one day, the old lady regained her consciousness, or rather, her condition worsened. But we preferred to believe the former—that she was very clear when she made that choice. Though it was just a brief moment, she chose a bottle of vodka in her left hand and a revolver in her right hand, and in an extremely heroic and interesting way, she ended her life.”
Xing Conglian’s tone wasn’t sorrowful, and Lin Chen didn’t feel it was a sad story either.
“To live brilliantly and die with dignity—many people long for that,” he said.
“I thought you would comfort me.”
“I’m not that conventional,” Lin Chen said. “And by the way, your family’s pet is really creative.”
“That’s nothing. Next time, I’ll take you home to see the little creatures I’ve raised,” Xing Conglian proudly said.
Lin Chen knew that the words “take you home” were heartfelt and sincere.
But at this moment, he still had to break this atmosphere.
“The story is good, with a cruel beauty, but did you misunderstand something?” He forcefully sat up, patted Xing Conglian’s abs, and said, “My situation is not the same as your grandmother’s.”
“Although the specific directions may be different, the problems here are fundamentally connected.” Xing Conglian raised his hand very knowingly and pointed at the center of Lin Chen’s brows. “So, Consultant Lin, I will do everything I can, but the only one I have been powerless against is you. What is your current condition? Please perform a self-diagnosis. I’m making this request as your lover and as your superior.”
“I have been asking myself that question too.” Lin Chen held Xing Conglian’s fingertip and kissed it, then let go of his hand and got off the bed.
Xing Conglian looked at the wrinkles on Lin Chen’s shirt, revealing a glimpse of his waist that was exposed when Xing Conglian lifted it.
He watched as Lin Chen bent down and took two bottles of lemon-flavored soda from the cupboard, unscrewed the caps, handed one bottle over, and sat back on the bed, speaking in an extremely calm tone. “In fact, Shen Lian needs something. It becomes a shackle around my neck—that’s when it becomes interesting.”
Lin Chen said this.
“So what?”
“So this involves the essence of the medication, the underlying purpose of the puppet master.” Lin Chen paused. “We know that this medication’s side effects make people become manic and lose themselves, but Xiao Wu’s recovery, including my temporary clarity, also tells us that high doses of the drug taken in a short period of time won’t drive people completely insane. It metabolizes quickly, allowing temporary recovery. That’s why this medication needs to be taken long-term, right?”
“You can say that.”
Lin Chen nodded and took out his phone. A message from Su Fengzi appeared on the screen.
“Fengzi just went to Hongjing Hospital and obtained similar results…”
He said up to this point, but Xing Conglian interrupted him.
“I’ve never seen such an elusive person. So, does Three Graves really exist? Is Su Fengzi the leader of Thee Graves, or is it you?” Xing Conglian asked.
“Don’t bring up that which doesn’t need to be brought up.” Lin Chen glared at him and bent down to give him a punishing kiss. “Listen to me…”
“Kiss me again, and I’ll listen to you.”
Xing Conglian was extremely stubborn, and taking advantage of Lin Chen’s distraction, he pulled him back onto the bed, seriously threatening him. “Please, Consultant Lin, continue speaking in this posture. If you move around again, I’ll change positions.”
Lin Chen had no choice but to adjust his sleeping position, resting his head on Xing Conglian’s chest, lying on his side, and spoke in a soft voice. “Fengzi also reviewed the cases from Yongchuan Hospital. We can observe that a small number of patients have regained their consciousness. This indicates that although the same medication has different effects on different individuals, overall, everyone is improving.”
“Then what is the shackle, Consultant Lin?” Xing Conglian asked sternly.
“Most psychiatric drugs work by affecting the brain’s neurotransmitters, which in itself is quite amusing. We always think we can control ourselves, but in reality, whether it’s dopamine, acetylcholine, serotonin, norepinephrine, or others, these subtle changes in neurotransmitters can fundamentally alter a person. It can lead to addiction or a range of psychiatric disorders. It can make you a saint or a madman,” Lin Chen said while gently stroking his furrowed brow, his voice unusually gentle.
Xing Conglian’s heart felt as though it had been tightly squeezed, and he shuddered all over, even more fearful because of Lin Chen’s calmness.
But in this tender yet chilling moment, he, in a fleeting instant, felt that he had grasped the key to the entire situation. He seemed to realize what the puppet master behind the scenes truly wanted to achieve, but he couldn’t quite capture that crucial point.
He believed that Lin Chen must understand more, but at this moment, Lin Chen couldn’t verbally tell him the truth of the whole matter.
“It’s like when you’re in a dream; it’s difficult to realize that you’re dreaming,” Lin Chen said. “All human thought processes rely on the coordinated action of brain neurons and these neurotransmitters. If you ask me what changes Shen Lian’s medication will bring to the brain, I can tell you with certainty that it likely affects monoamine neurotransmitters*. Like all drugs, it has different stages. In the initial stage, it can cause a loss of rationality and agitation. In the relaxation phase, it can induce a sense of ease and calmness. And in the declining phase, after the neurotransmitter levels in the brain have fluctuated, it can trigger a series of physiological compensatory or antagonistic reactions. I don’t know exactly how it works.”
*Neurotransmitters and neuromodulators that contain one amino group connected to an aromatic ring by a two-carbon chain, such as dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin. They are used in monoaminergic systems, which regulate the process of things like emotion, arousal, and certain types of memory.
Lin Chen’s tone was calm as he lay there on Xing Conglian’s chest, gazing serenely at him. But just speaking these few sentences seemed to drain all the strength from Lin Chen’s body. “Xing Conglian, I lied to you just now. I’m feeling very uneasy right now, and I really want to go find Shen Lian, truly.”
In the “Lonely” courtyard, Qi Xin casually chose a “Lonely” to lean on and rest.
The “Lonely” that was used as a cushion dared not speak up. It obediently lay there, curling its soft limbs into a ball. In the small courtyard where the seasons mixed, Qi Xin leisurely passed the time, appearing somewhat content.
“Why don’t you go help that cub?” A voice abruptly interjected.
The Lonely cats perked up at the news, but upon confirming the speaker, they lazily returned to their original positions.
A woman stood at the entrance of the courtyard, draped in a snow-white knitted cloak that almost swallowed her whole. The cloak was made of thick and rigid threads, resembling miniature human arms. Half of the woman’s face was hidden behind the cloak, making her features indistinct.
Qi Xin: “I’ve taught him everything he needs to know. If he’s willing to devote himself to humans, then let him go.”
“I’m asking why ‘you’ don’t go.” The woman’s lips curled up while she spoke with a voice as gentle as water. “After finally finding the cub of Fear, it should be properly taken care of.”
Qi Xin: “Properly taken care of? I don’t intend to risk my life for him… especially when you’re the opponent. I’m not that foolish.”
“Love” quietly stood by the door, without responding.
Qi Xin rolled her eyes unreservedly. Love had been hitting the gap with its body, too weak at that point to maintain control over humans for long periods of time. Now, it could not only control humans but also use them as vessels, carrying fragments of itself to walk on the Other Side.
Right now, there was no difference between it and Qi Xin.
“Just eating ‘Joy’ alone wouldn’t give you this kind of power,” Qi Xin said. “Is it because of that broken net of yours? What have you done?”
“Even if I tell you, you won’t easily change your stance,” Love gently replied. “I’m just giving you a reminder. It’s a good habit to leave room for possibilities. I hope you can persevere with it.”
Qi Xin absentmindedly played with the cat’s soft limbs, lowering her gaze.
This was a self-reflection.
On the night when “Fear” fell a thousand years ago, “Sorrow” concealed its true form. Qi Xin, as one of the oldest and most powerful Primordial Elementals, could only be found by other Elementals if she intentionally revealed herself. The only exception was “Satisfaction”. Since then, Qi Xin could only manipulate a tiny portion of her body to walk on the Other Side. She wouldn’t obey Love’s orders or deliberately oppose them; she was just barely getting by.
For Love, she was ultimately an uncertain factor.
“I see. Leaving room for possibilities. No wonder you came to warn me in person.”
Qi Xin’s tone remained steady.
“Don’t worry, no matter how the cub and you end up fighting, ‘I’ won’t intervene.”
It was hard to say whether that thing was a proper cub, but even without Love’s assurance, Qi Xin wouldn’t act recklessly.
Love bowed her head towards Qi Xin, performing a human-like gesture. A strand of soft black hair peeked out from under the cloak, slightly curled at the ends. Then she turned around and walked towards the exit of the small courtyard.
“Hey.”
Qi Xin released her grip on the cat’s soft limbs.
“I mean, as long as you choose the wrong path, whether you dance ballet or crawl forward, wrong is wrong.”
Love turned around; the pale end of her cloak engulfed in white mist.
“Who says there is so much right or wrong?”
She spoke softly.
“According to your words, humans shouldn’t overcome diseases and slow down aging. They shouldn’t prevent natural disasters and research methods to increase productivity? It’s ‘right’ for nature to take its course. Survival of the fittest and all, right? I can’t achieve perfection all at once, that’s all.”
Qi Xin laughed out loud. “You really are the most human-like, even in the aspect of self-righteousness—just as long as the purpose is benevolent, the resulting losses can be ignored?”
“I will atone.” Love’s voice became softer. “After everything is over, I will take responsibility for the chaos on the Other Side that has lasted for thousands of years.”
Qi Xin: “Taking responsibility isn’t just empty words. Let me make it clear: you still have a chance now—the cub of Fear has self-awareness. You can negotiate with him and find alternative solutions.”
Love’s voice grew fainter. “It was born in the human world. It has no sense of belonging to the Other Side. Giving absolute power to ‘outsiders’ is truly foolish.”
Qi Xin shook her head and remained silent.
She looked at the “Lonely” cats not far away. The Lonely cats still had ample food supply. Several larger ones were using tablecloths to wrap up newborn Lonely cats, guiding them to feed.
This scene used to be commonplace, but now it could probably only be seen in a few select groups, like the “Lonely” cats.
“Forget it.” Qi Xin sighed. “You can go now.”
“No need to worry. That cub still helped me, and I have a better solution now.” Love pulled down her hood. “It will be a flawless, perfect solution.”
……
“You, Unit 9—aren’t you the best at finding missing people?” Hu Tao said dreamily.
Huang Jin’s face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot. The surroundings were silent and white, and he was already annoyed by the flashes outside. Upon hearing that there were more dangers than fortunes outside, he wished he could escape on the spot.
How could the legendary Great Celestial Master not even control his own ghost! Moreover, even if the ghost was looking for someone, if it were really following the spirit contract, it should have found Yin Ren. How did this ghost end up coming their way?
Wait, could it be…
Huang Jin stared at Zhong Chengshuo in disbelief. He had just felt that Zhong Chengshuo’s bag seemed to have more flesh and blood than theirs, bulging and full.
Thinking that Yin Ren was highly likely to be here, Huang Jin’s emotions quickly calmed down again. With Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo by their side, even if something still happened, he was afraid he would be doomed anyway.
Lu Xiaohe held her mother tightly, not moving at all, almost biting her lips until they bled. At her feet, white threads were sneakily crawling around, trying to entangle Lu Xioahe’s unconscious mother.
“What happened outside?” Zhong Chengshuo asked straightforwardly. “We need accurate information to develop a search plan.”
Hu Tao’s tone was solemn. “This is someone else’s territory, and you trespassed. The people outside are going to be eaten by Elementals. But you are different—you are my acquaintances, and at least you can keep your lives.”
“Thank you.” Zhong Chengshuo looked at the face that was nothing but broken flesh. “Do you have any photos or something of the person you’re looking for?”
Hu Tao paused, as if she hadn’t considered this question before, and had no answer for a moment.
At the same time, Zhong Chengshuo’s mind raced at high speed. Countless threads crawled over his feet and slowly moved away.
Why is she searching for someone?
Love was stuck in the cracks and couldn’t act freely. Even if it exerted its power, Hu Tao was just a ghost. How could she possibly resist the Fear cub? If Hu Tao only used her abilities to locate Yin Ren and summon the Elementals to besiege them, Zhong Chengshuo could somewhat understand. Giving Hu Tao power, allowing her to attack Unit 9, and then granting her what she wanted afterward seemed reasonable.
But now, Hu Tao was only accompanying them to find the missing person she cared about, not directly attacking them.
It was too strange, almost like…
[Buying time.] Yin Ren muttered loudly in Zhong Chengshuo’s mind.
[I understand.] Zhong Chengshuo reassured him by patting the backpack.
“Well, I figured it out. I know how to help you find the person.” Hu Tao pondered for a long time, pushing aside her blood-soaked hair. “You can meet him. Isn’t that enough?”
Immediately, a tidal wave of memories flooded into everyone’s minds from Hu Tao. It was probably Love’s power helping out. Instead of materializing, these memories instantly penetrated everyone’s consciousness.
A living Hu Tao was reading a book in her bedroom. Her complexion was rosy, and her hair was fluffy and clean, shimmering with a beautiful luster. A woman in her fifties was sitting by the bed, making a phone call.
At that time, the decoration of the house had a rustic warmth and was filled with the aroma of fireworks.
Hu Tao got tired of reading and put down the book, hugging the waist of the woman beside her. “Mom.”
“Your aunt just said, don’t go out these days. It’s chaotic outside. Children are missing, and there’s trouble everywhere. I don’t know what’s going on.” Hu Tao’s mother hung up the phone and stroked her daughter’s hair. “Luckily, your father and I came over. Otherwise, I would be worried sick.”
“We also have A’Shen here. We have a lot of people, so we’re not afraid.” Hu Tao smiled happily.
“Wife, taste it. Your mother said you should eat light food during pregnancy. I didn’t dare to put too much salt.”
Before Hu Tao could respond, a young man entered the bedroom carrying a bowl of spare rib soup.
The man wasn’t particularly handsome, with dark skin and slightly chubby, but he had thick eyebrows and big eyes and a well-proportioned appearance. He glanced at Hu Tao’s mother with a smile, showing a hint of nervousness.
“I’ll taste it!” Hu Tao sat up. Her body barely showed any signs of pregnancy.
She took a sip of the soup from the man’s spoon and nodded in satisfaction. “It’s very flavorful. A’Shen, you’re really good at cooking.”
The young man smiled, his brows curving. “Of course! I picked the best meat!”
After speaking, he hesitated and looked at Hu Tao’s mother for a while. Finally, he mustered up the courage and kissed his wife on the forehead.
Hu Tao’s mother looked at the man with an affectionate smile. “Xiao Shen, if you’re tired, you can rest. I’ll take care of the soup.”
“No need, I can cook.” A’Shen quickly waved his hand. “It’ll be ready in a moment. You can rest.”
Hu Tao’s mother continued to smile gently. “My hands are free. How about I go out and buy some groceries? It’s been restless recently. Just for these few days, police cars have come seven or eight times—all sorts of things happening.”
A’Shen: “It’s chaotic outside. I’ll go with you this afternoon.”
“What a good boy.”
As the two of them were chatting, suddenly a banging sound came from outside the door, indicating an unwelcome visitor. A’Shen made a hand gesture to Hu Tao, indicating that she should stay in the bedroom. Then he grabbed a knife from the table. “Who is it?”
“Open the door!” An elderly man shouted from outside. “It’s me, Lao Hu. I was attacked by a lunatic outside!”
A’Shen leaned in to look through the peephole for a few moments and quickly opened the door. Upon hearing that her father was in trouble, Hu Tao couldn’t help herself and walked out of the bedroom, looking concerned in the living room.
Creak.
The heavy security door opened, and the frail old man was shoved inside. He was covered in blood, gasping in pain.
“Lao Hu!” “Dad!” Hu Tao’s mother and Hu Tao exclaimed almost simultaneously.
Hu Tao’s father fell to the ground, revealing the assailant behind him—a burly man with bulging eyes and a blood-stained knife in his hand. He immediately rushed into the house, closed the security door, and blocked the kitchen entrance.
“Mom, take Hu Tao to the bedroom!” A’Shen shouted. “I’ll save Dad!”
Hu Tao’s mother almost collapsed, but upon hearing those words, she seemed to regain her strength. She firmly grabbed Hu Tao’s wrist and dragged her toward the bedroom. “Daughter, daughter, hide and call the police!”
Hu Tao’s mother’s eyes were filled with tears. She locked the bedroom door and dragged the bedside tables and chairs in front of it. But that wasn’t enough. After blocking the bedroom, she pulled Hu Tao into the master bathroom and locked the door from the inside.
Unfortunately, there were few things in the bathroom that could be used to block the door. Hu Tao’s mother could only protect Hu Tao with her own body. Her body was stiff, and her hands and feet were ice-cold. Her breathing became rapid and frightening.
Hu Tao frantically dialed the phone, calling 110 and then 120. She called every emergency number she could think of. Then she curled up next to her mother by the toilet, clinging to her tightly.
There’s a killer in the house. Save us.
My father is seriously injured. Save us.
The scenes from action movies were deceiving. There were no angry shouts or screams coming from the living room, only the muffled sounds of bodies colliding and heavy objects falling. Mixed within were the groans of an elderly man. Those sounds passed through layers of doors and were barely audible in the bathroom. Every second felt like torture, cutting through her skin like a knife.
Hu Tao looked at the frosted glass door of the bathroom with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mother was beside her, and she didn’t dare cry too loudly, fearing it would overwhelm the emotions of the elderly woman.
Just a few minutes ago, this home was peaceful. Soup was stewing in the kitchen, and the rice cooker was cooking rice. Both her parents and her beloved were by her side. It should have been the safest place in the world.
Finally, the strange noises in the living room stopped.
Hu Tao’s whole body shivered. She held her mother tightly, her gaze fixed on the glass door of the bathroom, as if it were the last line of defense in the world.
“It’s alright, it’s alright!” A familiar but weak voice came from the living room. “Mom, wife… Ah, why won’t this door open?”
Just as Hu Tao was about to get up, her mother held her back.
“I’ll go and check.” She gently touched her daughter’s hair. “You stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”
After saying that, Hu Tao’s mother cautiously left the bathroom.
Hu Tao sat in the gap between the toilet and the bathtub, listening to her mother’s conversation with her beloved. She could smell the scent of peaches and the fragrance of shampoo in her hair. Outside the small bathroom window, the weather was unusually gloomy. Dark clouds gathered together, like a massive vortex.
Thump, thump, thump. Her heart pounded frantically.
Outside the door, the conversation between her mother and her beloved gradually became calmer. Another voice joined in, seemingly a police officer or doctor who came to inquire. Mixed within the conversation were the sounds of her mother slowly moving heavy objects.
Finally, there was the heavy sound of the security door being closed. The sound of movement ceased, and it seemed that her mother had successfully reached the living room, remembering to close the door behind her.
The normal conversation voices weren’t loud, and now Hu Tao couldn’t hear anything clearly anymore.
Is everything… alright?
Great, we’re safe. She knew it all along. This was the safest place in the world.
“Mom? A’Shen? I’m coming out!” Hu Tao shouted loudly when there was no response from the bedroom for a while. “How’s Dad? Did the ambulance take him away?”
There was silence in response.
What’s going on?
Why is no one answering?
Just as Hu Tao was about to worry, she saw her mother’s figure faintly through the frosted glass. Black hair, ivory skin, red clothes were turned into vague blocks by the frosted glass.
“Mom…” Hu Tao breathed a sigh of relief and reached out her hand toward the bedroom door.
…Huh?
Was Mom wearing red today?
“Mom?” Hu Tao’s voice was hoarse and trembling. “A’Shen? Dad? Mom?”
Still, no one answered, and the figure of her mother disappeared from the door. Only the sound of slippers stepping on the floor could be heard as a string of footsteps left the bedroom.
Hu Tao’s mind was in chaos. It must be her own imagination. A’Shen and she were childhood friends. They had known each other since they were young, and their families were also friends. A’Shen said everything was fine, so what could possibly go wrong?
With her eyes closed, Hu Tao eventually opened the door.
She saw a large amount of blood.
The warm wooden floor was stained with blood. The carefully selected furniture she had chosen was scattered all over the place. The soft bedding was pulled apart, no different from when she had left, contrasting sharply with the strong smell of blood.
Drip, drip. Something was making noise in the living room.
Hu Tao swallowed her saliva and held back her sobs as she cautiously peeked into the living room.
The kitchen door was tightly shut and stained with blood with the aroma of meat soup seeped out from the gap. The living room was a mess, and the glass coffee table was shattered. Potted plants were knocked over, and the TV hung crookedly on the wall, exposing vein-like wiring. The walls and the floor were splattered with red stains.
The crazed man was gone; her parents were gone; only her beloved was… mopping the floor.
Drip, drip. The old mop wiped over the bloodstains, leaving behind a pale red mark.
Even though Hu Tao wasn’t wearing shoes, her footsteps were silent. But A’Shen seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He stopped mopping, wiped the sweat off his face, and said, “Darling.”
There were still traces of blood on his face that hadn’t been cleaned.
With ups and downs, her brain didn’t know how to explain everything in front of her, nor did it know whether to be nervous or relaxed.
“Mom, Dad…?”
“Your dad’s wound looks scary, but it’s not serious. Your mom went to the hospital with him.” A’Shen smiled. “Were you scared by the bloodstains? It was on your mom’s body. She just went to the bedroom to get two sets of clean clothes.”
Hu Tao stared at her husband blankly.
“Don’t be afraid. That guy earlier was just drunk and caused harm. The police took him away. It’s alright, darling. You should go and rest for a while. Don’t stress yourself.”
“Why…” Hu Tao swallowed her saliva, forcing herself to fight off dizziness. “Why didn’t Mom say anything to me before she left?”
“Dad was bleeding heavily, so there was no time.” A’Shen stopped mopping and turned his face to her. “I told you, you got scared for no reason. Look, you’re just overthinking again, aren’t you?”
Hu Tao tried to lift the corners of her mouth, but her face seemed frozen, completely unresponsive.
It was like desperately trying to believe that everything was fine, and the person she trusted the most assured her that nothing was wrong. She should believe him. How she wished she could believe him. But why couldn’t she calm down no matter what?
The door to the windowsill was open, and the gentle breeze swayed the curtains. The door to the bedroom was open, revealing a glimpse of the chaos inside. Only the kitchen door was tightly shut, with two distinct blood handprints on it.
It was like a black hole, crazily drawing Hu Tao’s attention.
Light seeped into the living room through the gap in the door, but it seemed to be obstructed by something, casting intermittent shadows. The simmering sound of soup, accompanied by the faint noise of the stove, normality mixed with the abnormal, making Hu Tao uneasy to the point of feeling cold.
“The kitchen door.”
Hu Tao murmured.
“Why is the kitchen door closed so tightly? A’Shen, I want to have a bowl of soup…”
A’Shen’s expression changed slightly. “Mm, I’ll serve it for you. You take a break.”
“There’s so much blood in the bedroom, I don’t want to lie down.” She looked into his eyes. “I’ll serve it myself.”
With that said, when her husband wasn’t paying attention, Hu Tao rushed into the kitchen. A’Shen didn’t stop her; he stood there leaning on the mop, showing a hint of helplessness on his face.
The door slowly opened.
Her mother’s terrified face exploded like a bomb, instantly shattering Hu Tao’s thoughts—
Behind the bathroom door was a scene of chaos. On the other side of the bedroom door stood her husband.
The rest of them were behind the kitchen door.
Her mother’s throat had been slit, and her pale-colored nightgown was dyed blood-red. She tightly covered the wound with her hand, but the wound was too deep. Her mother’s eyes were wide open, filled with fear, her mouth unable to close, as if she wanted to scream something.
Her lifeless body was stacked on top of her father’s corpse. The skin on Hu Tao’s father, beyond the bloodstains, was a terrifying pale. He curled up his body, like a piece of decoration in this kitchen. The look of surprise still remained on his face, unable to recover from the peaceful days.
Hu Tao attempted to find some signs of breathing on her parents’ bodies, but she couldn’t find any.
There were more below.
The intruder was lying at the bottom. His neck was twisted in a strange manner, and his bulging eyes were fixed in a certain direction. Madness filled his brows, while tears stained his eyeballs.
The pool of blood spread along the kitchen tiles. In the reflection of the black and red mess, a pot of soup bubbled, emitting white steam.
Maybe she should faint, Hu Tao thought. Her head throbbed with pain, her lips felt numb, and her limbs were paralyzed as if they didn’t exist, yet she was awake, still standing in the same spot, forced to witness this nightmarish scene.
Just this morning, she was complaining to her father about eating too many fried dough sticks, saying it was bad for his health. Just a moment ago, she was tightly hugging her mother, with her mother’s warmth and scent still lingering in her embrace.
How could they not be here anymore?
“Why aren’t you serving the soup?” A’Shen asked softly.
Instinctively, Hu Tao took a few steps back and bumped into her husband’s embrace. That familiar warmth now made her heart pound, and Hu Tao almost screamed in horror.
“Are you afraid of all this?” A’Shen grabbed Hu Tao’s shoulders and pulled her towards him. “I can’t help it either. It’s your parents’ fault.”
Hu Tao’s lips trembled, and she wanted to call the police, but her hands couldn’t grasp the phone. The phone had fallen into the pool of blood, stained with black and red.
“I killed that scum. I had hidden everything perfectly and even sent the police away. Just think about it, that scumbag came into our home with a knife! If it were in ○ country, I could have killed him legally.”
A’Shen tightened his grip on Hu Tao’s shoulders, his words even pleading.
“But your dad kept looking at me with those eyes… as if I had done something wrong.”
Hu Tao opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“He would have definitely reported me if he went out. Honey, think about it. If I’m caught and thrown in prison, our child will never hold their head up high for the rest of their life. He’s supposed to be your biological father, but he stood on the side of the criminal! He definitely doesn’t love you!”
“Let me go…” Hu Tao murmured.
“Your mom, too. She insisted on looking when she saw the kitchen door closed. This is our home. Can’t she mind her own business? After she saw it, her reaction was the same as your dad’s—she completely disregarded our family, our child.”
A’Shen’s tone carried even more grievance.
“After all these years, they know how much I love you and know I would never do anything to hurt you. But it’s okay, honey. Even if your parents don’t care about you and our child, I’m here. I’ll take good care of you in the future, ah.”
Lunatic.
Hu Tao sluggishly thought.
This must be a nightmare, it must be.
Anyway… Anyway, pretend that everything is fine for now and find an opportunity to escape. Hu Tao’s body trembled uncontrollably, but she swallowed her screams, forced back her tears, and squeezed out an awkward smile. “Okay.”
“I knew it. The mother of my child understands me the most.” A’Shen kissed her forehead. “You can serve the soup yourself. I’ll clean up the house first.”
With that, he bent down and picked up the phone that Hu Tao had dropped in the pool of blood.
Hu Tao opened the lid of the pot, and the rich aroma of meat filled the air. With trembling hands, she grabbed a spoon and slowly ladled the soup into a bowl. Later, she would call A’Shen over and throw the hot soup at him… then find an opportunity to open the security door and escape.
Yes, that’s what she would do. She couldn’t cry; she couldn’t break down. She had to smile.
The sound of the iron spoon touching the enamel pot rim rang crisply. Hu Tao took cautious steps, almost tripping over the arm of the burly man sprawled out on the floor.
She couldn’t afford any mistakes. Hu Tao tried to squeeze out the last remnants of rationality. She crouched down and moved the man’s arm—his hand reaching out desperately, as if trying to grab something.
Hu Tao followed his arm and saw the huge refrigerator in the corner. The refrigerator door wasn’t closed properly, with a plastic bag caught in the seal.
It was the door they usually used to store frozen goods. Hu Tao didn’t cook much; it was mostly A’Shen who organized it.
Don’t be nosy.
But…
‘Don’t be nosy,’ she thought.
But…
Hu Tao felt like the string in her mind was about to snap. Her parents’ bodies lay at her feet, while scalding hot soup sat in the pot. Countless dark thoughts bubbled up like foam in the soup, bubbling and disturbing her peace of mind.
She had to escape, but she also wanted answers.
Coincidentally, A’Shen had his back turned, tidying up the sofa. Various thoughts crawled over Hu Tao’s body like ants. She took a deep breath and couldn’t hold it back any longer, quietly inching towards the refrigerator.
This was the last door, she thought.
The refrigerator door silently swung open, releasing a gust of cold air. Behind the last door, there were pork bones, fish meat, and steaks stored. Seeing these ordinary things, Hu Tao breathed a sigh of relief for a brief moment. She composed herself and carefully placed the frozen goods back.
Something fell out of the package of pork bones.
Hu Tao grabbed the small piece of flesh-like object in her hand. She was about to put it back when her movements abruptly stopped.
It was a human finger, Judging by its size, it clearly belonged to a child. And judging by its frozen state, the small piece of flesh had been frozen for more than just a day.
[It’s chaotic outside, children are missing, and there’s trouble. I don’t know what’s going on.] Her mother’s words echoed in her mind.
Hu Tao felt like she had fallen into an icy abyss.
She turned her head and looked into the frenzied and desperate eyes of the burly man. Next to those eyes, there were another pair of feet wearing slippers.
“Why are you suddenly curious about the refrigerator? Didn’t I say that I’ll take care of the kitchen?” A’Shen sighed repeatedly. “…Ah, did you see that? It’s my fault. I didn’t clean up properly, so that man came knocking on our door.”
He glanced at the pot of soup.
“As expected of my wife, I thought we had used it all. I’ll tidy up the fridge later to avoid leaving anything that shouldn’t be there.”
“Why?” Hu Tao didn’t even know what tone her words had when she spoke. She knelt beside the fridge, her mind on the verge of shutting down.
A’Shen smiled again. “They say you are what you eat, and I like little girls, so I want you to eat more.”
Hu Tao couldn’t keep her balance, and one of her hands pressed into the nearby pool of blood.
“And I can hear voices. If I kill them, the gods will reward me. By consuming them, you will surely be blessed too… honey.”
The strong scent of the meat soup made Hu Tao vomit instantly. The vomit slid into the blood, juxtaposed against the familiar kitchen. Hu Tao felt like she was about to go insane in the next second.
Forget about hot soup and calling for help. She just wanted to escape, to flee from this absurd place.
If this was a nightmare, why hadn’t she woken up yet?
“Morning sickness, huh? Honey, you’re really suffering.” A’Shen leaned towards her, reaching out with a gentle and soothing tone. “Come…”
Instinctively, Hu Tao avoided him, slapping his hand away.
Blood splattered.
A’Shen froze, looking at his own hand with disbelief. “Did you hit me?”
“Lunatic.” Hu Tao choked, her pajamas stained with vomit and blood. “Lunatic, lunatic…”
The man’s face slowly turned red, anger evident in his brows and eyes. “I’m doing this for your own good! I explained it all just now. How can you say such things?”
“Stay away from me!” Hu Tao looked at the bowl of hot soup.
It sat on the stove while she sat paralyzed in front of the refrigerator. It was too far away, she couldn’t stand up, and she didn’t want to touch it again. Thinking about how she had tasted a spoonful before, she began to vomit uncontrollably.
Her husband squatted in front of her. A’Shen himself picked up the bowl of soup, now holding an extra spoon. His face carried the usual sense of aggrievement and tolerance, as if they had just had a normal argument.
“Don’t make a fuss,” he said. “Have some soup and rest. You’re pregnant now, and your emotions are unstable… Once you calm down, we can talk again.”
Hu Tao shook her head frantically. She wanted to stand up, but she had no strength. She wanted to scream, but her throat was convulsing, and her husband had already taken away her phone.
The hot soup approached her lips, and Hu Tao quickly turned her head. Whether it was her own movement or her husband’s force, she ended up with a cut on her face.
“Take a sip, come on.”
Ignoring the blood on the spoon, A’Shen took a deep breath, and his eyes were filled with tender light.
“Just take a sip, and we’ll make up. Honey, you can’t really be angry at me, can you? We’ve known each other for so many years.”
He extended the spoon once again.
Time and time again, Hu Tao frantically avoided it, her face becoming bloodied and mangled. Each time she dodged, her husband’s face grew more suspicious. In the end, he suddenly realized something, stood up, put down the spoon, and picked up a knife.
“I wondered why you wouldn’t forgive me,” he said, looking at Hu Tao’s blood-drenched face, his voice filled with anger.
“You’re not my wife. You’re a monster. Don’t use my wife’s face—”
With a swift motion, he raised the knife and brought it down.
In Hu Tao’s final field of vision, she was surrounded by boundless blood-red. She could see the bodies of her parents, lying close together, and the kitchen ceiling she had chosen with anticipation. But occupying most of her sight was her childhood sweetheart, her husband.
His cheeks were clean, with just a little bit of blood splattered on them. He stared straight into her eyes with a focused gaze.
……
“Later, he escaped, and the police couldn’t catch him. After signing a spirit contract with Yin Ren, I went to look for him several times myself, but I found nothing—according to the police records, he was considered a fugitive.”
The memories were long, but they were absorbed in an instant.
Hu Tao floated before the members of Unit 9 with a smile on her face.
“Now you know what he looks like.”
Kinky Thoughts:
Umm, WTF?
Well, it turns out Hu Tao’s past is pretty gruesome… This explains a lot of why she became a fierce vengeful ghost.
Sometimes I forget that this novel is part horror.
“Remember, you only have twenty-four hours,” Meng Huai emphasized. “As soon as ‘Satisfaction’ leaves, those Elementals will first clean up the newly born little Elementals. After twenty-four hours, the focus of those Elementals will shift to patrolling.”
“Clean up?” Fu Tianyi gazed at the monsters climbing on the white silk threads, with Dr. Cat perched silently on his shoulder.
This word was used too peacefully—if they encountered smaller ones, these things would tear them apart on the spot and devour them completely. Especially those few enormous black shadows that circled the nest like whales, refusing to leave.
“Yes, clean up,” Meng Huai said.
Zhong Chengshuo remained silent.
To be honest, he wasn’t surprised. He had confirmed his suspicions with Qi Xin long ago—
A thousand years ago, “Fear” appeared after “Satisfaction”, alternating like day and night. As for those ripples, they were the Primordial Elementals. Zhong Chengshuo would randomly devour some while accidentally crushing others. The little Elementals born from “Satisfaction” absorbed these remnants and promptly fed on emotions from the human side. The population of Elementals remained stable, and they survived in this way.
Without Fear, the Elementals couldn’t die and could only devour each other. But then again, no one wanted to die, so the Elementals began targeting the vulnerable newborns for sustenance. Even so, they still couldn’t match the speed at which “Satisfaction” created new Elementals.
But if they killed “Satisfaction”, the origin of the Primordial Elementals, no one knew if a new “Satisfaction” would be born. In case Satisfaction disappeared altogether, the Other Side would deteriorate even faster.
“Love’s” plan to create madness and increase emotional output wasn’t unreasonable for the Other Side. The problem was that Qi Xin had been indecisive all along. Would that scheming and profound “Love” truly reveal the plan to her?
Disgust and Joy had long since died, so they had no way to verify.
[Remember to act quickly—rescue and run.] Yin Ren’s wings rustled in the bag. [The thing in the center is too suspicious that it gives me an uncomfortable feeling.]
[Yes, I know.] Zhong Chengshuo touched the lantern in his shoulder bag.
“How can I find my mom?” On the other side, Lu Xiaohe looked up at countless ball-shaped cocoons, anxious and distressed.
“I heard about it too. Didn’t you look for people from the Other Side before?” Meng Huai said, “You’re the rear commander, so you should have thought of it.”
Lu Xiaohe was startled, and Huang Jin frowned in response.
Lu Xiaohe had read the report on the Bai Yongji case. Huang Jin had personally played the guitar in the case, resonating with Ding Lizhi. However—
“But that was with the help of Minister Jiao. It was said that we could achieve a shared mindset, but I don’t know how she did it,” Lu Xiaohe answered honestly.
Meng Huai chuckled. “The ‘Charon’ is strong because they can traverse the Other Side, but they don’t have that many special abilities. If you only think of Xiao Jiao as a Charon, you won’t have the idea of trying it yourself. That’s not a good habit… As a science post, sometimes you’re too imprisoned by the insistence on ‘verification’.”
“Yes.” Lu Xiaohe quickly realized. “I’ll give it a try.”
She closed her eyes, perhaps guessing her mother’s possible thoughts.
Zhong Chengshuo saw Lu Xiaohe’s figure become blurred, and a faint white line was pulled out from her, faintly drifting toward a certain ball-shaped cocoon. The end of the white line flickered weakly, even less bright than a damp burning incense, intermittent and elusive. After a while, it disappeared.
In the end, telepathic connections couldn’t compare to Ding Lizi’s long song. Even with the closest person, “heart-to-heart communication” could only achieve a superficial understanding.
But the target it indicated was already clear enough.
……
Unit 9’s four members leaped onto the Elementals’ backs, smearing prepared minced meat in the blind spots of the round cocoons. Huang Jin used a carving knife to carve an improved Tranquility Talisman, and the cocoon wall appeared like snow that had been melted, revealing a hidden hole.
Zhong Chengshuo led the way while Huang Jin guarded the rear, and the four of them barely crawled into the cocoon.
The scene inside was no different from what Meng Huai remembered. White threads hung down, nests piled up, and despite the absence of a light source, everything was blindingly white on all sides. If it wasn’t for everyone remembering the current situation, this atmosphere would make them drowsy.
Inside the cradle-like cocoons, arms of various sizes embraced the white silk humanoids to varying degrees. Those humanoid figures were large and small, sitting or lying down. Lu Xiaohe was originally curious as a member of the science post, but now she didn’t dare to look closely.
Everyone proceeded cautiously, with fine threads coiling around, but when they touched the Tranquility Talisman on Unit 9’s “flesh shoes”, the threads automatically avoided them. Everything was quiet—so quiet that it made people anxious. Except for the intermittent “guiding thread” on Lu Xiaohe’s body, the scenery here lacked vitality, like a still painting.
The group advanced cautiously; every step taken with trepidation. Zhong Chengshuo kept watching with his eyes and constantly shared the field of vision with Yin Ren.
[We entered without any movement. It seems there are no Elementals guarding these people. There are so many patrolling soldiers outside, most likely guarding the big guy in the center.]
Perhaps because it was too quiet around, Yin Ren chattered incessantly inside Zhong Chengshuo’s head.
[Fortunately, it’s going smoothly in here. I guess all the pressure is on the lookout team outside. I don’t know if Fu Tianyi can hold up.]
It was a pity that only Fu Tianyi was a genuine cultivator of the Fu family. Meng Huai probably wouldn’t feel at ease with anyone else. Yin Ren understood this in his heart but speaking it out loud wasn’t pleasant.
[What do you think?] Zhong Chengshuo stepped on the soft ground.
[It’s hard to say for now.] Yin Ren’s voice was calm. [It’s also a solution if I transform into my true form, destroy these cocoon balls, and then run. But that would startle the enemy. It’s better to understand the situation first and then break through here in one fell swoop.]
[Mm, that’s what I’m planning too.]
“It should be… It should be this one.”
Just then, Lu Xiaohe stopped in her tracks.
In front of her was an ordinary-looking white nest, with a baby carriage-like structure. Two pairs of arms embraced a bloated humanoid figure. Huang Jin took out a carving knife made from solidified Elemental flesh and nodded at Lu Xiaohe.
He had an expression as if he were dancing on a nuclear bomb button as he gently cut a white thread on the humanoid figure. Immediately after, Huang Jin’s whole body trembled, as if he were about to be struck by a thunderbolt, looking around in all directions.
But nothing happened.
The white arms beside the humanoid figure merely lightly embraced the surroundings, showing no reaction like a lifeless object. Everything went smoothly to the point of discomfort.
Huang Jin quickly took out a photo and confirmed if the comments on the back were still there. Once he made sure that the lookout was safe and sound, he tremblingly used his hands to continue cutting another layer. Ge Tingting nervously guarded the surroundings with her ears perked up, listening intently. The surroundings were still filled with an ear-piercing silence that made one’s ears ache, which only made Huang Jin’s cutting sound like thunder.
Huang Jin continued dismantling like he was defusing a bomb, his forehead covered in sweat.
Layer by layer, the white threads were pushed aside, and the facial features of the person inside could be vaguely seen. Lu Xiaohe suddenly covered her mouth, trying to suppress a sob.
Lu Xiaohe’s mother was covered in mucus, quietly sleeping in a tangle of severed threads. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, her figure still frail, but her cheeks and lips were somewhat rosy.
…Is this it? Huang Jin tightened his grip on the carving knife and stood there, stunned.
In hindsight, Love indeed had little sentiment towards humans. People heard about money being put in a safe, but they had never heard of anyone setting up multiple layers of protection for instant noodles. Maybe Unit 9 had been unlucky for so long that it all accumulated in this stroke of good luck.
Huang Jin, still trembling with fear, looked at the four arms. “It’s been less than three hours. When they said twenty-four hours, I thought… Well, it’s better to finish early if we can. Let’s go.”
Lu Xiaohe reached out her arms to pull her mother from the cocoon. The texture of the mucus was like egg whites, enveloping her mother in a wet and slippery state. The pajamas on her mother’s body were crumpled like wilted vegetable leaves.
Lu Xiaohe bit her lip, trying to handle the situation as gently as possible. Ge Tingting took two steps forward to help her move her mother. Zhong Chengshuo frowned and looked around—he still saw a row of tranquility, and Yin Ren didn’t report the presence of any large Primordial Elementals.
“Let’s go.” Zhong Chengshuo unusually took the initiative to speak. “Let’s leave this place first and then figure out what to do.”
“Strange, I thought you were going to do some research.” Huang Jin walked to the back of the team again, muttering to himself. “Zhong Chengshuo, you’re so strange and scary…”
“The outside is heavily guarded, yet it’s so lax here. When things are abnormal, there must be something amiss.” Zhong Chengshuo’s demeanor became colder and more imposing, sounding more like the legendary “King Yama”.
Unit 9 was always straightforward in their actions. Lu Xiaohe carried her mother on her back, and Ge Tingting helped support Mrs. He’s back. Once again, Zhong Chengshuo took the lead while Huang Jin guarded the rear, and the group quickly retraced their steps.
It took only about four hours, and the four of them successfully returned to their starting point. Huang Jin finally released the tension in his throat, took out his carving knife, and was about to use the same technique to find a way out—
“Why are you leaving just like that? I haven’t found the person I’m looking for yet.”
A familiar voice sounded from behind the group. And everyone recognized that aura. Although Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t heard that voice before, the moment the aura appeared, Yin Ren already had the answer in his mind.
Zhong Chengshuo slowly stood up and stood in front of the other three. The bundle of wings in his backpack wriggled, filled with astonishment and urgency.
The fierce ghost Hu Tao floated in front of the group.
Her face was distorted and covered in protruding flesh, making it impossible to discern her features. Her teeth were broken, resembling a bloody hole. Her hair and clothes were dirty and disheveled, and black-red putrid blood dripped down, quickly absorbed by the white “ground”.
“Help me find someone too.”
The ghost’s voice was hoarse, and she seemed to be smiling, but her face was so mutilated that muscle movement couldn’t be discerned.
Zhong Chengshuo pinched the uncertain bundle of wings and made a gesture behind his back. “How did you come to the Other Side?”
He asked calmly and peacefully, as if they were merely encountering each other in the living room at home.
Hu Tao: “I have a blood oath with Yin Ren, so of course, I can find him.”
“You know that’s not what I want to ask. How did you come to the Other Side?” Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t finished speaking when the hands behind his back made another move—
Huang Jin and Ge Tingting had completed their spell preparations and simultaneously cast a binding light net from all directions. Zhong Chengshuo, having dealt with evil creatures for years, knew better than to chat with someone in the enemy camp.
The light net was about to descend from all directions, but Hu Tao didn’t dodge. She floated in place, repeating once again, “Help me find someone too.”
Crack!
Before the spell could even reach the fierce ghost, it disappeared like water encountering a hot iron, instantly vanishing without a trace. Looking at Hu Tao again, a pair of arms emerged from her back and gently embraced her neck.
[I tried to suppress her with the spirit contract, but it didn’t work.] Yin Ren’s thoughts entered Zhong Chengshuo’s mind. [Something is wrong. I’ll stay behind to deal with her. You all go first.]
[No, you can’t expose yourself yet.]
Zhong Chengshuo closed his eyes. Whether it was Yin Ren’s identity or the Karma Lantern, they were their trump cards. If they revealed everything at this stage, they would have nothing left for what lay ahead.
[Since she appeared at this critical moment, none of us can leave. Let’s probe the situation first.]
“Why won’t you help me find someone?”
The fierce ghost floated closer. When Ge Tingting saw her face, mutilated and covered in blood and flesh, she couldn’t help but look away. But as soon as she turned her head, Hu Tao was right in front of her, just a few centimeters away, her face in a mess, facing Ge Tingting.
Lu Xiaohe took a few steps back, carrying her mother, almost tripping over the white threads on the ground.
Hu Tao grinned, and the arms embracing her tightened a little more.
“I was told that ‘he’ is also here. But there are too many people here, so I waited for you to come and help.”
She extended her blood-stained hand toward the four of them.
“I can’t find him just by myself.”
I was told.
Zhong Chengshuo squinted his eyes. Hu Tao was a fierce ghost with a contract with Yin Ren, so naturally, she could locate him on the Other Side. Besides Qi Xin, who had the ability to bypass Yin Ren and send evil creatures to the Other Side… there seemed to be another person.
“Love.”
It was a trap. This place was a trap from the beginning.
Countless missing individuals were concentrated here. Even if Meng Huai didn’t appear, it was only a matter of time before Shian discovered this place.
“We will all help you find him,” Zhong Chengshuo said calmly. “Following Shian’s regulation, we need to first move Lu Xiaohe’s mother out and then help you search—it seems that you can’t synchronize your thoughts to search for that person, so we have to conduct a carpet search.”
“You’ve already talked with ‘that one’, so why are you bothering us? Can’t you let ‘that one’ guide you?” Ge Tingting couldn’t hold it in and spoke up. She stood in front of Lu Xiaohe, spreading her arms.
“That one doesn’t remember the exact location, so I have no other choice.” Hu Tao’s voice carried a hint of grievance. “You know when your package is in the delivery room, don’t you have to search for it yourself?”
“I promise to help you find him.” Zhong Chengshuo raised his voice. “But as I said earlier, we need to move Lu Xiaohe’s mother first.”
Hu Tao’s face twisted, and her voice gradually became cheerful.
“I knew it. We’re still friends. But to move that woman… Let’s forget it. It’s chaotic outside. Even if you go out now, there’s no one to meet up with you.”
Lu Xiaohe held her mother tightly, looking towards the path they came from. The entrance had already been blocked by the white threads, leaving only a shallow depression. It was supposed to be guarded by the lookout team of four, and even Dr. Cat would occasionally come to ensure that the passage remained open.
“No one to meet up with?” Lu Xiaohe murmured.
“Yes,” Hu Tao answered with a smile. “All those people outside are dead… Anyway, they were all strangers. It’s better that you’re here.”
“You, Unit 9—aren’t you the best at finding missing people?”
Yin Ci looked at the serious expression on Shi Jingzhi’s face, and the lingering hostility in his bones dissipated.
At first, the man’s probing carried an indescribable sense of oppression, then it turned into half-guardedness and half-curiosity. Now, Shi Jingzhi wanted to openly challenge him, but that initial guard was nowhere to be seen.
Like a fierce beast retracting its sharp claws just as it was about to strike.
Yin Ci didn’t dislike this curious inquiry, and the only trace of resistance dissolved under the thought of “the other person is most likely the Little Mute”. ‘It’s strange,’ he thought. Their way of interacting seemed to have changed very little since he first became his disciple.
Both treated each other kindly, disregarding formalities, yet now he had an inexplicable sense of peace.
“Want to know everything? That’s going to be difficult.”
Yin Ci met Shi Jingzhi’s imposing aura without a care. He deliberately got closer, his voice carrying an undisguised hint of amusement.
“Shizun, how about we have a little competition to see who can uncover each other’s secrets first?”
Shi Jingzhi readily agreed. “It’s a deal.”
After a moment, Shi Jingzhi felt like he was at a disadvantage and added, “A’Ci, since it’s a competition, it’s more fun if we wager something.”
Yin Ci: “…” Yan Budu really set the stage nicely.
“What do you want to wager, Shizun?”
“How about this, if I uncover A’Ci’s secrets first, you have to agree to one of my requests. And if you uncover the cause of my illness first, then I’ll agree to your request… I haven’t thought about it yet, so let’s leave it open.”
After all, it was still the temperament of a young person. Yin Ci went along with it. Finally, he jokingly remarked, “Even if I wanted the Shirou, would you be willing to give it?”
“A gentleman keeps his word, so naturally, I will be willing to give it.”
“Shizun’s ‘object obsession’ doesn’t seem to be that severe.”
Unexpectedly, Shi Jingzhi stubbornly replied, “You said you would ensure my longevity. If you wanted the Shirou, you would have already found a way to treat my condition. A’Ci, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”
Yin Ci suddenly felt like he had dug a hole for himself. He gazed at Shi Jingzhi, and if he were to shake him up a bit, he was sure to uncover a flurry of calculations.
“I did indeed say that.”
Shi Jingzhi smiled even more happily. “Then I have no need to worry needlessly.”
With their banter, a sense of playing chess with a worthy opponent subtly emerged between the two.
Then Shi Jingzhi slowly climbed onto the bed. Despite having a dozen mysteries around him, he stretched his limbs and completely relaxed.
Sect Master Shi’s gaze remained fixed on the canopy above for a while before he turned his eyes toward Yin Ci. “A’Ci, I’ve been thinking about what Yan Budu said.”
Yin Ci leaned against the head of the bed, and his long hair flowed down his back with the ends scattered on the plain fabric. He was in a good mood, enjoying the sparse stars outside the window. He responded promptly, “What did he say?”
“About Su Zhi’s matter.”
Yin Ci pondered for a moment, only recalling Yan Budu’s disparaging remarks. As the person involved, he couldn’t be sure what Shi Jingzhi wanted to discuss, so he silently looked back at him.
“Yan Budu said, ‘If he hadn’t taken over the north, our sect wouldn’t have been so ruthlessly defeated.’ Initially, I only thought that your ancestor was a Demonic Lord, and I never thought in that direction.”
Shi Jingzhi decisively rolled off the bed, retrieving ink, a brush, paper, and inkstones. He spent quite some time painting under the moonlight. Once the ink dried, he also grabbed a plate of dried fruits from the fruit tray and dragged a small table to the edge of the bed.
“If A’Ci can’t sleep, play a game of sand table with me.”
Shi Jingzhi arranged the paper and laid out the dried fruits on the table, looking earnestly at Yin Ci.
Yin Ci was accustomed to his impromptu nature and went along with it, glancing over the paper. Unexpectedly, when he looked, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
It was clearly an influence map from a hundred years ago. The important strongholds of various sects, significant geographical features, important cities—it was an accurate representation of the map from that time. The lines on the map were beautifully drawn, the summary was concise, and it could even be directly used in military operations.
“Pine nuts represent the righteous sects at that time, soybeans represent Yan Budu, and melon seeds represent Su Zhi.”
Seeing Yin Ci’s interest, Shi Jingzhi happily piled up the dried fruits on the map.
“The Chigou Sect was originally just an ordinary gang in the north, relying on scavenging the remnants of battlefields to survive. Shortly after the rise of the Ling Sect, a disciple named Su Zhi emerged in the Chigou Sect. This person rose rapidly, took the position of the third-generation Patriarch, and completely revitalized the Chigou Sect—”
He brushed the pile of melon seeds in the northwestern direction.
“From then on, the Chigou Sect’s target was not only the remnants of battlefields but also the ancient tombs gathered in the northwest of Great Yun. Whether they belonged to foreigners or compatriots, deserts or muddy lands, as long as it was the tomb of a noble or aristocrat, the Chigou Sect would dig it up.”
“By excavating treasures from the tombs, the Chigou Sect quickly became rich. They committed all sorts of deeds that harmed virtue and were despised by the common people. However, Su Zhi was quite capable and acted swiftly. The Chigou Sect maintained a relatively harmonious relationship with the local people without accumulating grievances like the Ling Sect… A’Ci is a descendant of the Su clan. You must have heard about these things.”
Yin Ci remained composed. “What exactly do you want to say, Shizun?”
“Looking at the surface, the Chigou Sect did indeed seem to be developing in an ordinary direction. But if we consider the Ling Sect as well… Su Zhi’s every move targeted Yan Budu’s most vulnerable points.”
Shi Jingzhi pressed the melon seeds onto each city on the map.
“These territories are all perfectly situated, making it tasteless for the Ling Sect to hold onto them but a pity to abandon them. The main base of the Ling Sect is on Zongwu Mountain, far away from the northwest. If they were to forcibly entangle themselves with the Chigou Sect, they would only be taken advantage of by the martial world in the Central Plains. Yan Budu had no choice but to let the Chigou Sect encroach upon their territory.”
“So what?”
“If Su Zhi hadn’t appeared, the Ling Sect could have torn open a gap in the southwest and encompassed the entire western region. That way, when the righteous sects united to suppress the Ling Sect, they wouldn’t have been so miserable, and Yan Budu wouldn’t have fallen into a disadvantageous position, forced into Zongwu Mountain by Kongshi.”
Yin Ci remained silent for a moment before saying casually, “Perhaps you’re thinking too much.”
“Yes, I can’t be certain. This situation is truly interesting.”
Shi Jingzhi grabbed a handful of roasted beans and threw one into his mouth.
“Come on, you be Su Zhi and the righteous sect, and I’ll be Yan Budu. If I can break through your blockade, just count it as me overthinking things.”
Yin Ci reluctantly took the melon seed from his hand. “Alright, alright.”
“A’Ci, set up your layout properly later. If you’re not serious, I can tell.”
Initially, Yin Ci didn’t take that statement seriously—Shi Jingzhi was just a twenty-seven-year-old young man, and no matter how intelligent he was, at most, he could only discuss military strategies on paper. He couldn’t handle the uncertainties of real conflicts.
But this game with the dried fruit sand table didn’t end quickly.
Yin Ci held the melon seeds in his hand, and a hint of a solemn and murderous aura unconsciously appeared on his face.
Shi Jingzhi had always had a sharp gaze, and this extended to setting up formations. He launched one surprise attack after another, displaying a fierce and ruthless style. Yet, he was also watertight, even surpassing Yan Budu in skill.
Yin Ci had initially planned to lose easily and brush it off. However, Shi Jingzhi’s skill wasn’t lacking, and if he deliberately concealed his abilities, he would indeed be discovered.
Interesting.
It was easy to find soldiers, but hard to find a general. With a unique situation at hand, Yin Ci’s interest was sparked, and he no longer bothered to conceal it. He happily unleashed his skills and engaged in a fierce battle with Shi Jingzhi.
“This isn’t your first time using a sand table, is it?”
Shi Jingzhi curved his eyes. “Elder Brother has peculiar hobbies and often gives me challenging military problems. I’ve been playing with military sand tables for more than ten years.”
“This move is quite impressive. A few years ago, during Great Yun’s border defense battle against Na Luojiu, this was the decisive victory.”
Yin Ci picked up a few melon seeds and casually commented.
“But you’re still a bit inexperienced. If I were to ambush you here, your troops would still be cut off.”
“That’s exactly what I want.”
Shi Jingzhi laughed and placed several beans on the table.
“A’Ci, how about this? I’ll gather the people from the Ling Sect’s main base and make a breakthrough while chaos ensues—”
Yin Ci sneered and pushed the melon seeds he had arranged a moment ago closer. “General, Shizun.”
Shi Jingzhi picked up a bean and took the opportunity to stuff it into Yin Ci’s mouth. “That’s right, I knew it. When Su Zhi chose those bases, he had the intention to suppress Yan Budu… A’Ci, your ancestor doesn’t seem as malicious as the rumors say.”
Yin Ci: “……”
He couldn’t swallow it for a moment, and he didn’t want to spit it out, so he had no choice but to swallow the roasted bean.
Did that obedient Little Mute twist into someone cunning?
“And your formations are extraordinary, inherited from your ancestor?” Shi Jingzhi looked at the map filled with dried fruits. “There are so many arrangements that I never even thought of… I didn’t misjudge after all.”
Shi Jingzhi crushed a pine nut with a crack. “Incomplete meridians, Sweeping Bones as swift as the wind, and a strategic genius. Even if Su Zhi is still alive, that’s all he would be.”
Yin Ci pretended not to hear and stretched lazily. He wasn’t afraid of Shi Jingzhi’s wild guesses about this matter.
Immortal wine didn’t extend one’s lifespan. Su Zhi wasn’t an immortal. Even if he drank immortal wine like water, he couldn’t possibly live until now. There had never been a person in this world who was immortal or never aged. Even if Shi Jingzhi were to guess endlessly, he would never uncover the truth.
Sure enough, Shi Jingzhi pressed against the map, muttering to himself, and his speculations became more and more outrageous. “A’Ci, was Su Zhi your great-grandfather? Grandfather? …Your father?”
“It’s time to sleep, Shizun.”
Shi Jingzhi was still looking at the map. “You go to sleep first. I’ll continue looking for a while longer. I have a feeling that there might be a turning point.”
Yin Ci got off the bed directly and forcibly dragged his master back onto the bed. “Tomorrow, we have to meet with the Abbot. Are you going to meet him with a pair of black eyes? Playing around is just playing around, and the point is to feel comfortable. If you haven’t had enough fun, I’ll continue accompanying you tomorrow.”
Shi Jingzhi paused at the words. “The point is to feel comfortable?”
“Yes. Everything should be done in moderation, as excess is detrimental.”
“Then, A’Ci, are you feeling comfortable?”
Seeing Yin Ci hesitate and his expression gradually becoming complicated, but not denying it, Shi Jingzhi felt satisfied. He imitated Yin Ci’s tone and said, “Then, let’s sleep. If A’Ci hasn’t had enough fun, I’ll continue accompanying you tomorrow.”
As a result, the next day, Shi Jingzhi had a bit of bruising under his eyes. This person secretly got up in the early morning and sat in front of the map for over an hour.
Yin Ci, upon seeing the bloody handkerchief Shi Jingzhi spit into, couldn’t help but want to beat him up. But when he looked at Shi Jingzhi’s smiling face, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
In the end, he only made breakfast for three people and asked a monk to fetch a vegetarian meal from the temple, specifically for Shi Jingzhi. Sect Master Shi held a plate of specialty buns from the Jianchen Temple and looked at the golden pancakes in front of the others, feeling speechless.
Yin Ci was always capable of being ruthless when necessary. “Since Shizun doesn’t cherish his own body, why not practice asceticism like the eminent monks? Who knows, it might actually be effective.”
Shi Jingzhi took a bite of the bun, calmly asking, “…Are you genuinely concerned, A’Ci?”
Yin Ci sneered coldly, not falling into the fox’s trap. “I asked the monks, and they said they will only have salt porridge and boiled greens for breakfast tomorrow.”
Shi Jingzhi immediately shut his mouth, holding his breath and attentively eating his breakfast.
Yin Ci had heard a few things about the current Abbot of the Jianchen Temple, but he had never seen him in person. He only knew that the monk was a senior martial brother of Monk Juehui and went by the Dharma name “Juefei”. Juefei was highly skilled in martial arts and secluded himself to an extent that surpassed previous Abbots. According to the saying in the martial world, unless the world was in chaos and the mountains and rivers were crumbling, the Abbot would not come down from the mountain.
Monk Juefei even abstained from attending the martial arts grand event several years ago.
Such a person was difficult to deal with, no matter how one approached them. Yin Ci had made ample preparations, but he never expected—
“Ah? Martial Uncle Kongshi’s stone sword? It’s fine if Sect Master Shi wants to see it. Just take a look. After all, it’s just lying there. It won’t make any difference if you take a glance.”
Monk Juefei sat cross-legged on the bed, drinking a bowl of vegetarian wine, and hiccupped again. The four members of the Kushan Sect sat in a row on meditation cushions, unsure of how to react.
The Abbot’s room was spacious and filled with cushions. The gaps between the cushions were stuffed with various flowers and plants, giving it a lively atmosphere without a hint of worldly detachment.
Politely speaking, Monk Juefei had a resemblance to Maitreya*, with earlobes that seemed like they would touch his shoulders and a round face filled with a cheerful expression. To be more straightforward, this person was excessively fat, indifferent to everything, and seemed too lazy to move even if the heavens were collapsing.
*Regarded as the future Buddha of this world in Buddhist eschatology.
If not for the sense of profound inner force emanating from him, Yin Ci would have thought they had come to the wrong place. Contrary to the rumors, this Abbot was not only reasonable but also too easy to talk to.
“Oh, there’s something else… Ah, Martial Uncle Kongshi’s remains. Sect Master Shi, now that we have some rapport, there’s no need to hide it from me. With the exchange for the ‘Woodless Sutra’, I’m sure you can see more than just the stone sword. Even if you want to see me running naked around the temple, I’ll agree to it.”
Shi Jingzhi stumbled, “…Venerable Abbot, there’s, there’s no need for that.”
He hadn’t completely recovered from the influence of Venerable Kongshi, and the presence of the Abbot in front of him left him dazed and with slightly vacant eyes.
Monk Juefei burst into laughter, his voice booming like a bell, shaking the core of those present. He tapped his chubby knee with his thick finger, and his eyes narrowed and was filled with a mischievous smile, making it hard to tell who he was looking at.
“So, Sect Master Shi deliberately brought up the matter of the remains to meet with this old monk. There must be other matters you wish to discuss, right?”
Shi Jingzhi took a deep breath, adjusting his emotions. “I have indeed come this time with two matters to seek guidance from Venerable Abbot. If the Venerable can provide clarification, I am willing to assist the temple in retrieving the remains of Venerable Kongshi.”
“Ah, at such a young age, why beat around the bush? I believe that Sect Master Shi genuinely wishes to find the remains of Martial Uncle Kongshi, while the other matters are just secondary—did Yan Budu hide the clues with Martial Uncle?”
The chubby abbot slightly opened his eyes, pinpointing Shi Jingzhi’s intentions in just a few words.
“How did Venerable Abbot come to know?”
“The stone sword of Marital Uncle Kongshi was brought back by itself. After the disappearance of Martial Uncle Kongshi for nearly a year, it suddenly appeared at the entrance of our temple. If it were anyone else, they would undoubtedly come to the temple to claim credit or at least give a greeting. The only person who would do such a thing is Yan Budu.”
Monk Juefei made two light clicks with his tongue while his gaze toward the crowd filled with a near-loving expression.
“Yan Budu is a cunning and ruthless person. He wouldn’t send the sword back to the temple out of goodwill, nor would he be foolish enough to provoke with it. It can only mean that he concealed the clues related to the burial site. The Jianchen Temple has strict rules, so you wouldn’t be able to inquire freely. Coming to see me now, you also want to know about the events of that year, right?”
“Yes, I was presumptuous and disrespectful earlier, offending Venerable.”
Shi Jingzhi immediately changed his tone, displaying a sincere attitude.
“Enough, enough. All beings are connected by the three poisons of greed, hatred, and ignorance. Those who come are all due to fate.” Monk Juefei waved his hand. “Regarding the records of Martial Uncle Kongshi, I will have someone send them to you. Now, about the stone sword—it is in the underground palace beneath the pagoda in the back mountain. You are free to take a look if you wish. If you can move it, you may take it away.”
This time, Shi Jingzhi was genuinely astonished. “We can take it away?”
The sword of Venerable Kongshi, no matter how one looked at it, was a treasure of the Jianchen Temple. It wasn’t uncommon for eminent monks to be generous, but being excessively generous was suspicious.
Monk Juefei’s face was full of smiles as he clasped his hands together. “Amitabha, I assure you; no one will hinder you.”
“However, on this sword, Martial Uncle Kongshi personally inscribed 108 verses of Buddhist scriptures, aimed at examining the mind. The heavier the attachment to the ‘self’, the heavier the sword—Martial Uncle Kongshi had high self-standards. Just moving the sword to the pagoda required a team of thirty people from our temple.”
“In a hundred years, this sword has never found a worthy individual. If Patron can truly take it away, it would be a fortunate occurrence.”
The author has something to say:
-Stage One –
Fox Shi: Time to get up for morning practice; Demonic Lord Yin: ? Something is wrong with you.
Demonic Lord Yin: Prepare breakfast. ; Fox Shi: It’s handy having a disciple.
-Stage Two –
Fox Shi: Time to get up for morning practice; Demonic Lord Yin: ? A kid can teach.
Demonic Lord Yin: Prepare breakfast.; Fox Shi: My disciple is so kind.
-Stage Three –
Fox Shi: Time to get up for morning practice; Demonic Lord Yin: ? You vomited blood and didn’t sleep well.
Demonic Lord Yin: Prepare breakfast.; Fox Shi: A’Ci is so good, I need to find a way to make him happier.
Now let’s guess Stage Four (×
————
By the way, it’s not a bug that Yan Budu was able to move the sword when he returned it (…
Also, according to Journey to the West, monks at that time could drink some vegetarian wine, but meat-based wine (made with meat as an ingredient) was absolutely not allowed.
The Jianchen Temple was situated in the middle of Huilian Mountain, built on a solitary peak, and was adjacent to a gigantic waterfall.
The temple had black-tiled red walls, exuding a solemn and ancient atmosphere. Surrounding it were rugged rocks and proud cedar trees. Combined with the waterfall resembling cascading snow, even without hearing the sound of bells or sutra chanting, one couldn’t help but feel a sense of tranquility.
Once they entered the central range of the solitary peak, the effect of the Buddha Heart Formation disappeared. The four of them felt invigorated and climbed the winding stone steps in one breath, reaching the front of the temple.
As speculated earlier, the Jianchen Temple still held gratitude towards Shi Jingzhi for returning the “Woodless Sutra”. Despite the sorry state of the disciples of the Kushan Sect, the monks still opened the temple gate and invited the four inside.
The one leading them was even a familiar face.
The young monk who they had met in the Ghost Tomb came to guide them. Just as he was about to say to Shi Jingzhi, “Form is emptiness”, he caught sight of Yin Ci and choked on the words, “Emptiness is form”.
“You, you… You’re the one who killed Lu Fengxi, the white…”
“A’Ci is my disciple, not an evil person.” Shi Jingzhi pulled Yin Ci behind him. “There are reasons behind it; Young Master*, don’t panic.”
*Xiao Shifu (小师父).
Can he really not panic? Not to mention Lu Fengxi, this Patron even wore the white jade hairband that belonged to Zheng Fengdao. The young monk observed the two with suspicion and felt that the Kushan Sect was even more sinister than the Ling Sect.
Fortunately, after defeating the three Lords of Greed, Hatred, and Ignorance, Yin Ci appeared to be the most dignified. Although he had many questions to ask, the young monk didn’t want to trouble the esteemed guests and had to let it go.
“Amitabha. The ritual just started not long ago, and the seniors are all busy. Please forgive us for now.”
The young monk bowed to the four of them.
“With the Buddha Heart Formation outside, it was hard work for all of you to come out of the formation. This humble monk will lead you to rest first… After the busy day is over, Venerable Juehui will personally receive all of you. There is vegetarian food in the temple, and if you are not accustomed to it, there is a guest kitchen available.”
Upon hearing this, Shi Jingzhi almost shed tears.
Setting aside these past few days when he had to make do when cooking or eat cold leftovers, even within the mind realm, he and Yin Ci hadn’t eaten anything for a month. Their mouths were so bland that birds could nest in them.
Seeing Shi Jingzhi’s distraught state, Yin Ci understood his thoughts. “We’ll cook for ourselves.”
The young monk still maintained some caution toward the “person in white” Yin Ci. After leading them to the guest rooms, the young monk left quickly, presumably to report the matter to Venerable Juehui.
However, the Jianchen Temple showed no intention of meddling in worldly affairs, and with the prior kindness of the Kushan Sect, Yin Ci wasn’t worried about the senior monks gossiping. He openly entered the guest kitchen and prepared a table of vegetarian food.
Shi Jingzhi simply collapsed onto the bed in the guest room. After days of tension, his nerves finally relaxed, and he couldn’t even be bothered to lift a finger.
The Jianchen Temple, as the number one temple in the world, had elegant and spacious guest rooms.
The four members of the Kushan Sect were given two rooms by the monks. They gathered in the outer room. Even though they were in the mortal realm, the interior was well-decorated.
Outside, there was the sound of flowing water and bamboo groves, while inside, a faint scent of sandalwood filled the air. The cushions and bedding were simple in material but elegant in design, soft and clean. The windows were clean, and no matter which window one looked out from, the view of the garden and the mountains could be framed like a painting.
The afternoon sunlight slanted into the room, devoid of snake scales, shackles, white thorns, or head lamps. Everything was warm and gentle, as if they were in a heavenly realm.
Yan Qing was at the window, checking their luggage. He had calmed his hidden anger and appeared even more composed than before. When the sunlight from the temple shone on his red eyes, they appeared clean and transparent, without a trace of wickedness.
Su Si wore a serious expression and kept pacing in the room, disrupting the rare tranquility.
Su Si’s movements made Shi Jingzhi dizzy. “Su Si, if you have something to say, just say it.”
Su Si hesitated for a moment. “Let’s wait for Brother Yin to come back and discuss it during the meal.”
That was undoubtedly a wrong decision.
When the vegetarian meal was served, its colors were bright, and its fragrance filled the air, making one’s mouth water. As Shi Jingzhi took a bite, he felt overwhelming happiness and almost achieved enlightenment on the spot. The atmosphere around Shi Jingzhi exuded a Buddha-like aura, and it took Su Si quite a while to bring his soul back.
“Sect Master.” Su Si gritted his teeth. “Did you hear what I said? Sect Master!”
After the suppression of his inner demon, the identity of the Chigou Sect’s young Patriarch was completely exposed. He no longer bothered to conceal his hostility, and his displeasure was written all over his face. He stared at Shi Jingzhi, who was engrossed in slowly savoring his food, and it seemed like he wanted to use his chopsticks as a weapon to cause trouble.
Shi Jingzhi calmly swallowed the tofu meatball in his mouth. “Su Si, silence at meals and rest*.”
*When eating, he does not converse. When in bed, he does not speak. (食不言寝不语) Saying from Confucius referring to not speaking while eating or sleeping. It’s meant to portray proper etiquette, emphasizing the importance of savoring food and having a peaceful sleep without distractions.
Yin Ci calmly added, “Shizun, Su Si mentioned that you have a ban from the Immortal Sect.”
Poor Sect Master Shi almost met his demise at the hands of a tofu meatball. Seeing that Shi Jingzhi was about to choke on it, Yin Ci casually pushed a cup of warm tea towards him.
Shi Jingzhi drank the tea in one gulp, and his mind finally returned to the matter at hand.
“An Immortal Sect ban?”
“Yes,” Su Si said in a deep voice. “Before the Lord of Greed, you and Brother Yin… Senior Yin was focused on the battle, so it’s normal that you didn’t notice. That ban only flashed briefly, and I caught a glimpse of it.”
“When I was in the Chigou Sect, I learned a bit about it and saw similar formations. They were all malicious enchantments that manipulated people’s minds. These formations are complex and not something ordinary people can do.”
“Sect Master, have you really not offended anyone from the Immortal Sect?”
Upon hearing this, Shi Jingzhi wasn’t as surprised as before. His memory gaps, unexplained headaches—it was clear that someone had deliberately tampered with his memories.
Su Si helped him eliminate other possibilities. It now seems that the person behind the scenes was undoubtedly connected to the “Immortal Sect”, the Mishan Sect.
Shi Jingzhi pondered for a moment and changed the topic. “You’re in such a hurry to bring it up. Do you want to seek assistance from the Jianchen Temple?”
“Yes,” Su Si admitted decisively. “The Buddha Heart Formation and the Nightmare Breaking Technique are both formations that affect the five senses of the human mind. The Jianchen Temple has always excelled at such techniques. Since we need to inquire about the whereabouts of Kongshi and the stone sword, it’s better to seek advice from the eminent monks along the way.”
Shi Jingzhi stroked his chin. “That sounds good, let’s do that.”
Su Si let out a sigh. “There’s one more thing. You all have witnessed the manifestation of my inner demon. I… speaking only in terms of formalities, I am indeed the young Patriarch of the Chigou Sect.”
He put down his chopsticks and sat up straight. When Yan Qing heard this, he also solemnly put down his bowl and looked at Shi Jingzhi.
The relatively relaxed atmosphere gradually became tense.
“However, I don’t acknowledge this identity, nor will I return to the sect. If the Sect Master deems it inappropriate, I won’t take San Zi with me forcefully. In these recent days, I…”
Su Si clenched his teeth; his struggle was evident. He was never someone who liked to bow his head, but now the soft words were stuck in his throat, unable to go up or down, making him look quite embarrassed.
Shi Jingzhi glanced at him and remained calm. “Oh, this matter… It’s not urgent for now. Come, let’s all eat. A’Ci has made the dishes, and they won’t taste good if they get cold.”
Su Si was taken aback and held his breath on the spot. He and Yan Qing exchanged a hesitant glance, feeling as if a huge boulder was about to fall, making it difficult for them to swallow their food and their hearts pounding.
However, Shi Jingzhi remained composed and continued to eat earnestly.
“I say, Sect Master Shi, you don’t really mind?”
After finishing the vegetarian meal, the post-meal tea was served. Seeing Shi Jingzhi with a full stomach, planning to leisurely drink his post-meal tea, Su Si finally couldn’t bear it any longer.
“We have encountered many troubles on the road, and I’m grateful that you didn’t press me for answers. But now it’s different—now you should know that the Chigou Sect won’t give up on tracking me. By leaving me in the Kushan Sect, it’s equivalent to openly challenging the Chigou Sect!”
Su Si’s tone even carried a hint of subtle resentment.
“So what?” Shi Jingzhi held the tea cup in both hands and replied calmly. “As long as we hold the two treasure map Buddhist beads, it’s like openly challenging the entire martial world. Didn’t I say before, Matron Wuxue already has a dislike for me. When there are too many fleas, if they won’t bite, it doesn’t matter.”
“Besides, if their young Patriarch is serving as a subordinate in a small sect, Matron Wuxue probably wouldn’t dare say anything. With an illegitimate status like this, considering the Chigou Sect’s character, they would only try to hinder us covertly. We just need to avoid the shadows, and we’ll find a way.”
Being let off so casually, Su Si’s gaze became complicated. “…Sect Master Shi, your protection of me must not be purely out of kindness, I presume.”
He no longer concealed those dark thoughts and brought them directly to the surface.
“Naturally not. This Sect Master is a practical person. Your martial arts are considerable, and you don’t even require a monthly salary. Where else can we find such a good deal?”
Shi Jingzhi responded confidently, appearing completely sincere.
Su Si: “…”
All his worries and questions turned out to be in vain. It seemed that the ban from the Immortal Gate didn’t affect Shi Jingzhi’s mood for eating and drinking tea. In this person’s eyes, the grudge of being the leader of the top demonic sect was worth no more than a few hundred coins of monthly allowance.
Compared to that, Matron Wuxue’s logic seemed more like that of a normal person.
Forget it. Su Si frowned. In any case, he had done all he could, and if these lunatics in the sect disbanded, he could simply take his friend and run away.
With that in mind, Su Si calmed down. The four members of the Kushan Sect sat down, drinking tea and having their meal, displaying an air of peace detached from the mundane world.
However, this peace was shattered in the evening by the arrival of Monk Juehui.
Monk Juehui still had that shriveled appearance, full of bitterness and deep grudges. As soon as he entered, his gaze lingered on Yin Ci for a long time, but ultimately slowly shifted away, not asking anything.
“Amitabha. Have the Patrons disregarded the Buddha Heart Formation and specifically climbed the mountain at this time because of some difficulty?”
Facing an outsider, Shi Jingzhi remained tight-lipped. He smiled and greeted, “I came here this time to borrow Venerable Kongshi’s stone sword.”
“…Oh?”
Monk Juehui raised his head, and finally, some expression appeared on his withered face.
“Martial Uncle* Kongshi’s remains have not been returned, so how does Patron know that the Stone Sword of Compassion is in the temple?”
*Shishu (师叔) Title given to a junior brother of one’s master (lit. Master’s younger brother).
“I received news about Venerable Kongshi’s remains. The sword is not in the place where he was buried; perhaps your esteemed temple has retrieved it.”
After observing Shi Jingzhi for a while, the monk with the bitter face smiled and said, “Amitabha. Once the treasure map Buddhist beads were revealed, masters from all over the world fought fiercely over news about Yan Budu. Who would have thought that after a hundred years, we could still unearth clues about Marital Uncle Kongshi.”
Shi Jingzhi replied, “Venerable Kongshi was one the Greats of his time. It must be the will of heaven for this to happen.”
Monk Juehui lowered his head and solemnly folded his hands in a prayer gesture to Shi Jingzhi. “Patron, you have shown kindness to our temple before, and your request to view the stone sword is not excessive. However, the matter of Martial Uncle Kongshi is of great importance, and I cannot make the decision alone. It must be determined by the Abbot*. Please rest here for the night, and I will report to the Abbot tomorrow.”
*This is referring to the head of the temple. In Chinese, the word is [Fangzhang] (方丈) meaning “one square zhang (equals to ten square feet)”, referencing the size of Vimalakirti’sstone room.
“Thank you, Venerable.”
It was night, and Jianchen Temple was tranquil. The night scenery was peaceful, and Shi Jingzhi, wearing a sleeping robe, leaned against the window in the inner room, enjoying the view.
Strange illness, the Shirou, natural desires, worldly bonds. Everything was returning to normal, but as Shi Jingzhi pondered over it, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
Just as he settled his thoughts, Yin Ci’s behavior became unusual. Shi Jingzhi thought he must have realized something when he saw the end of Kongshi and Yan Budu. However, after a few days passed, his disciple still maintained the same thoughtful appearance.
In recent days, Yin Ci had indeed been very kind to him. Shi Jingzhi could tell that the concern was genuine, even to the point of being excessive, bordering on a strange indulgence.
He should have been satisfied with this. However, Shi Jingzhi had a feeling that this kindness was imposed from above, not of his own accord.
…It was like Yin Ci had decided on their fate without consulting him, as if they only needed to reach this point.
Shi Jingzhi didn’t know what he wanted, but he was clear that what he wanted wasn’t something of this degree.
The thought flashed through his mind, and Shi Jingzhi suddenly felt like laughing. It was truly a cycle of karma—an unsatisfactory retribution. He had initially shown Yin Ci an inexplicable kindness, and now the same kind of favor was being returned to him in the same form. Yet, as the one being “cherished”, he felt uneasy all over, without any sense of happiness.
Was the human heart truly so complex?
“A’Ci,” Shi Jingzhi suddenly said.
Yin Ci was maintaining the Hanging Shadow Sword when he heard the words and raised his head. “What?”
“At first, I was kind to you without reason. Did you think that person must have had some problems in his head to behave so inexplicably?”
“…I did.”
“With your abilities, A’Ci, I estimate that you have already used various means to investigate my background and situation.”
This time, Yin Ci remained silent. Shi Jingzhi’s words weren’t a question and denying it would be pointless.
Smiling, Shi Jingzhi approached, his back to the moonlight streaming through the window, and caught hold of a strand of Yin Ci’s hair.
Yin Ci furrowed his brows. Even though his back was facing the light, his eyes were still incredibly bright—so bright that it made him uncomfortable.
“A’Ci, listen carefully. Now, I’m going to do the same thing. While searching for the Shirou, I will do my best to investigate your background, origins, and your inner demon.”
This was bad.
Yin Ci suddenly realized his own negligence. His Little Mute had long ceased to be the same person he was years ago. Shi Jingzhi cautiously opened up a bit to him, but he hadn’t let go of his deeply guarded thoughts.
He couldn’t help himself but make a mistake.
In the past century, faced with such situations, Yin Ci would always come up with a fabricated background to prevent the other party from digging deeper. Just like back in Yuanxian Village, lying was always easy for him.
However, such bullshit about having “drunk immortal wine” almost slipped out, but Yin Ci swallowed it back himself.
He looked at those bright eyes and remained silent for a long time. Shi Jingzhi intentionally brought it up, so his master knew exactly what he was doing. Had this fox finally noticed?
…Had he realized that, regardless of the reasons, he could no longer deceive him as he had done in the past?
With his heart being openly placed in his hands, there was only one answer he could give.
“What’s the matter, Shizun? Are you coming to capture me? I can promise you right now that no matter what your fate may be, I will be there with you until the end. My affection for Shizun is not a lie.”
Yin Ci placed the Hanging Shadow Sword down and smiled in response.
“Even if Shizun knows the truth, the current situation won’t change.”
Seeing that Yin Ci didn’t casually deflect the question anymore, Shi Jingzhi’s smile became even more radiant, his eyes forming crescents.
“Why wouldn’t it change?”
This time, he took the initiative and played with Yin Ci’s hair for a while.
“The human heart is multifaceted, and seeing is believing. In the past month, I have come to understand Yan Budu even more than you.”
“Since A’Ci has seen my vulnerable side, I also want to see A’Ci’s. What kind of person you are and how you ended up here, I want to know.”
“I need to know.”
The author has something to say:
Fox: It’s impossible for a son, and it’s also impossible to be a son in this lifetime.
Shian C-level investigation teams, Special Task Force Unit 8, was heading towards the old city area of Shian. Their destination was the abandoned sewer system.
Dr. Lao Bin was initially resistant to this assignment, but now he was more excited than anyone else. After completing the two major tasks of “Investigation of Mysterious Blockage in the Residential Sewer” and “Investigation of Nocturnal Noises from Sewer Covers”, Dr. Lao Bin successfully discovered a new species of hallucinogenic mold from the sewer. His research paper was about to be published.
Fungal research was a wide-open field, and Dr. Lao Bin was ambitious, wishing he could live in the Shian sewer. He hoped to make more discoveries of new mold species. The previous hallucinogenic species even had medicinal value. Dr. Lao Bin could already envision a future where his own paper would be extensively cited.
“I haven’t seen Unit 9 much lately,” his partner Qin Lele said.
For the past six months, this corpse servant hadn’t received many benefits. But Qin Lele had a positive attitude, and with safe and uneventful tasks, he happily followed Dr. Lao Bin.
Dr. Lao Bin said, “Unit 9 has been promoted to B-level, so the missions they receive must be different from ours.”
But before that, it seemed that the missions assigned to Unit 9 were quite different from theirs. That team always encountered major events as if they were cursed. Qin Lele felt it was such a shame for a promising young researcher like Zhong Chengshuo. After being employed for so long, he hadn’t had time to write his paper and could only deal with all sorts of chaotic incidents every day.
“Yeah, my uncle said that Xiao Zhong was dead, but I saw him at the company the other day,” Qin Lele whispered. “As expected from a B-level. He’s really mysterious.”
“Right.”
Lao Bin had also seen them not long ago. Zhong Chengshuo and Yin Ren were walking hurriedly into the company, seemingly unharmed. Lao Bin wasn’t very interested in gossip about other people, so he changed the topic directly. “Hey, Lao Qin, do you also want to be promoted to B-level?”
Qin Lele quickly shook his head. “No, I just want to live a peaceful life. Eat supper when I want to eat supper, take a leave when I want to take a leave. Unit 9 has it tough; I hardly see them in the cafeteria.”
“Yeah.” Lao Bin got out of the car and stretched lazily.
The car stopped in front of “Sister Xu Spicy Hot Pot.” After exploring the sewer in the night, they estimated that nobody would have an appetite when they came out. Unit 8 was accustomed to filling their stomachs first.
On a regular day, “Sister Xu Spicy Hot Pot” would be bustling with activity.
Residents strolling nearby, couples going out at night, office workers grabbing a late-night snack after work, as well as drivers and workers passing by… People from all walks of life would crowd this warm little restaurant. With the temperature gradually dropping, business should have been even better for the spicy hot pot place.
However, at present, there was only one table occupied in the restaurant—a table with burly workers sitting in the corner, eating quietly. Warm light illuminated the place, and the aroma was still enticing, but the whole restaurant felt desolate.
“Ah, ever since it gets dark, not many people come anymore.” The owner, Xu Fang, sighed, having lost some weight.
With few customers, Xu Fang pulled up a chair and sat down next to Lao Bin. She opened a few cans of soda and handed them over to the two.
Qin Lele: “Where did all the people go?”
Xu Fang: “They’re afraid of trouble. Recently, there have been violent incidents and street fights happening everywhere. Once the sun sets, the elderly and weak no longer go out. It’s just tough for those of us doing business at night… Look, I even took out my tools.”
Lao Bin followed Xu Fang’s finger and saw that where the statue of the God of Wealth used to be, there was now a portrait of the renowned Grand Celestial Master Zhong Yi. Defense spirit weapons and liquor were placed together in the corner of the counter, suggesting they were prepared to deal with either evil creatures or people.
There was also a jewelry rack next to the cash register, displaying cute vegetable and fruit talismans that were clearly from the Ghost Market. A price tag hung above them, swinging lonely, showing “66 yuan/piece, 100 yuan for 2 pieces.”
“This place is still holding up, unlike the neighboring shops that have closed down in a row,” the satiated worker next to them interjected. “My friend had a business nearby and recently sold the shop, planning to focus on delivery services.”
“Delivery services are reliable?” His neighbor burped, then continued, “No… just the day before yesterday, someone poisoned the food in a delivery order, and several people died from it… They haven’t caught the person responsible yet, the shop was burned down, and the delivery person was disabled from the attack…”
After speaking, he drunkenly looked at the tall and robust Qin Lele; the guard in his eyes was evident.
Xu Jie could only force a bitter smile.
At that moment, a few delivery orders were ready in the kitchen, and Xu Jie placed them on a table near the door, keeping a vigilant eye.
Lao Bin’s initially cheerful mood became somewhat dim. The delicious taste in his mouth turned bitter, and his legs felt heavy. The image of people of all ages mingling and causing a ruckus in the restaurant also became blurry in his mind.
Another worker spoke up, “Well, why not believe in that swan arm thing? My aunt said that anyone who sees that thing won’t encounter any trouble. If nothing else, just go around them and soak up some positive energy. It’ll be safer to work at night.”
“Lao Song, you’re so superstitious.”
“It’s better to believe in its existence than to believe it doesn’t exist. Haven’t you heard people say that even if you don’t believe in ghosts and gods, you should still show some respect…”
The workers added a plate of crispy fried pork and quietly chatted while drinking beer.
Qin Lele was about to say something when he heard a gust of cold wind outside. He wiped the simple smile off his face and furrowed his brow. Xu Fang even walked up to the counter and casually placed her hand on a spoon-like spirit weapon.
Only Lao Bin was still happily slurping his spicy hot pot.
Two seconds later, Lao Bin almost choked to death from the spicy soup—
Outside the restaurant, a mass of flesh and blood squeezed in, resembling the head of a centipede. Countless bodies twisted and piled on top of each other, their eyes clouded and teeth black, yellow, and broken, with traces of blood on their mouths. The mass-like creature wriggled incessantly, with sticky mucus dripping onto the ground, emitting an unparalleled stench.
Suddenly, the surface of the corpse mass undulated twice, poking out several broken arms and legs, merging into a pair of flesh jaws. The flesh jaws chomped together, trailing strands of sticky mucus.
The whole mass of flesh was tightly blocking the entrance like a cork in a wine bottle, making it impossible to see more. Who knew how large it was behind the door frame.
An icy spike of malice instantly spread out, causing Lao Bin to shake his chopsticks, knocking the entire bowl, soup and all, onto the ground.
“W-What… What the hell is this thing?!” He had never seen so many dead people in his life!
“This thing has substance. Lead the people and leave!” Qin Lele shouted loudly. He bit his fingers, drawing blood, and immediately began performing a spell. Under the spell of a corpse servant, the mass of flesh momentarily paused for two seconds.
“Everyone, run! Run!” a woman’s voice exclaimed.
Xu Fang forcefully opened the back door and went to pull the table of workers. It was the first time they had seen something so demonic, so the workers collapsed one after another; one was even crying and kowtowing to that thing in a frenzy.
After being forcefully pulled by Xu Fang, the group of workers barely regained their senses and rushed toward the back door, leaving trails of urine and feces in their panic. Lao Bin was torn between running and staying put, anxiously pacing in place. “Lao Qin, you better run too!”
He could tell that Qin Lele’s abilities were limited, and the foul-smelling mass of flesh was gradually regaining movement. Qin Lele seemed to be propping up a collapsing wall, unsure whether to retreat or stay.
Qin Lele’s face turned red with strain. “I—”
“Run!” Xu Fang shouted. She threw all her protective talismans at once and then activated all her spirit weapons, throwing them indiscriminately at the mass of flesh.
The small objects exploded suddenly, stirring up a fierce wind. The flesh jaw was blown off half its face, and the centipede-like mass of flesh roared fiercely.
Seeing the disturbance caused to the mass of flesh, Qin Lele stiffly retreated. The members of Unit 8, along with Xu Fang, silently retreated to the back door and then escaped together.
Not long after the three of them left the spicy hot pot restaurant, they heard the sound of flesh being crushed and destroyed. Then, there was a loud explosion, and flames shot up into the sky as mud, sand, and hail rained down.
The cozy and lovely little shop was reduced to ashes. The hot pot kitchen had gas and open flames, and that thing must have come into contact with something it shouldn’t have.
Xu Jie’s face turned pale, and she instinctively took a few steps back. The shop had already been turned into ruins, with debris scattered everywhere. The portrait of the Great Celestial Master Zhong Yi, engulfed in flames, slowly floated down to her feet.
The mass of flesh resembling a centipede was nowhere to be found, disappearing just as suddenly as it had appeared.
“Ghost! Ghost!” The worker who drank the most pissed his pants and shouted at the top of his lungs. “There’s a ghost, a real ghost…!”
He called out incoherently, tears streaming down his scared face. There was also a strange expression of relaxation, as if all the recent chaos suddenly had a solution.
“May the Bodhisattva bless us. May the Buddha bless us. May the Jade Emperor bless us…” He prostrated himself on the ground, banging his forehead against the soil. “I’ll go back and burn incense, and make offerings… May the gods bless us…”
Not far away, the shrill sirens of fire trucks and police cars played a piercing melody, growing louder and closer.
Lao Bin stood near the flames, his mouth half open, with a sharp ringing in his ears. Other sounds became dull and heavy, as if separated by a layer of water.
They were known to seek refuge and not engage in dangerous missions. They shouldn’t have encountered something like this. How could it be like this?
Lao Bin had believed that Haigu was just going through a rough patch. As a young, chubby man who worked nine to five, he didn’t feel any sense of danger. He spent his time playing games, taking pictures, talking about love, and living his life as usual.
He even thought that the “Haigu Crisis” was exaggerated. With the development of the internet, people were more prone to exaggeration. It was possible that these things happened more frequently in the past, but they had only recently come to light.
At this moment, he truly realized that something had fundamentally changed.
There was a tangible evil in the city, and this evil was embodied in actual human corpses, all freshly dead, numbering at least a hundred.
This city was no longer safe.
Thinking about the newly purchased down payment for his wedding house and the life that had just started to stabilize, fear crawled up Lao Bin’s spine belatedly. He shivered in place, swallowed a mouthful of saliva, and walked towards the pile of ruins.
“Bin Ge, what are you doing!” Qin Lele’s head was still bleeding from being hit by flying debris.
“I have to… I have to see it clearly.” Lao Bin returned absentmindedly; his face covered in sweat. “There is a tangible evil entity, and it must have an escape route. I… I must help Shian catch it. Otherwise, things will only get worse.”
Lao Bin’s gaze swept over the several workers sitting paralyzed on the ground, repeating his words as if in a dream.
“Things will only get worse if it goes on like this.”
……
The Other Side.
“No, it won’t work.” Meng Huai crossed her arms. “For this operation, we can’t bring those two people along.”
“Qi Xin’s attitude is ambiguous, but Yin Ren is a legitimate member of Shian. His abilities are very strong and taking him along adds an extra layer of insurance,” Lu Xiaohe explained earnestly.
But that was as far as she could explain.
Whether it was “Yin Ren is the legendary Great Celestial Master Zhong Yi” or “Yin Ren seems to be the cub of Fear from the Other Side”, there was no evidence to support either claim, and it would easily be dismissed as nonsense. Meng Huai already didn’t fully trust them, and speaking out would only complicate matters.
They didn’t even dare to disclose Qi Xin’s identity too clearly, only saying that she was a third-party consultant with some background from the Other Side.
Seeing Meng Huai unmoved, Lu Xiaohe looked to Zhong Chengshuo for help. However, the man just held onto his backpack and remained silent.
Just a short while ago, after understanding the details of Shian’s actions, Meng Huai proposed her own idea. After the Shian group underwent adaptation training, they would split into two groups and quietly infiltrate the white space to rescue the people.
At present, the group was still unaware of the true situation of the missing people, and it wasn’t advisable to make a move with such a small force. So Meng Huai made the final decision. They would focus on rescuing Lu Xiaohe’s mother, He Huan, as the confirmed target.
“This mission is meant to be a quiet infiltration and rescue, not a direct confrontation. Having strength is good, but having a clean background is the most important. Qi Xin and Yin Ren’s aura resembles that of the Other Side, and I can’t cooperate with them without any reservations.”
Meng Huai earnestly explained.
“But I can promise you that if the missing people can be rescued, they can participate in the ‘rescue’ aspect.”
Zhong Chengshuo pushed his glasses up. “Miss Meng’s point makes sense.”
A hint of shock appeared on Lu Xiaohe’s face, while Huang Jin’s expression turned numb. It was as if he was about to roll his eyes—among those present, surname Zhong was the one with the darkest background. Moreover, Zhong Chengshuo was carrying Yin Ren’s blood oath on him, so it was uncertain if Qi Xin could find them, but it was definitely guaranteed that Yin Ren could find Zhong Chengshuo.
Meng Huai had just given a lecture, mentioning that even a simple spirit contract or a single sentence of “you know, I know” was considered an important “GPS positioning function” on the other side.
Unable to resist, Huang Jin took out the photo they received before the mission. On the back of the photos were the comments from the three members of the Other Side’s trio. To ensure the “you know, I know” aspect, these comments were prepared in advance and then attached.
[I miss my wife. Zheng Xing]
[Guitar girl! Zhong Chengfeng]
[Such a lovely girl. Meng Huai]
Only Yin Ren’s comment was faintly discernible, pointing to a distant place. Once the Karma Lantern was ready, he was afraid of being discovered by Meng Huai’s group, so he slipped back to Qi Xin’s side.
Damn great Elementals. They looked exactly like two middle school students dating behind their parents’ backs. Huang Jin cursed inwardly.
“So, is that it?” Ge Tingting puffed up her chest. “Meng Jie’s team on one side, our team on the other. With Zhong Ge’s help, there shouldn’t be a problem… But when the time comes, how are we going to find Xiaohe Jie’s mother?”
“You’ll find out when the time comes,” Meng Huai said.
The next day, Meng Huai led the other six people out of the room, officially beginning the search and rescue operation.
Each person carried an additional backpack filled with a mixture of Elemental flesh and blood. What they didn’t know was that shortly after leaving, Zhong Chengshuo’s backpack was already empty.
Yin Ren had consumed all the Elemental flesh and blood inside and transformed back into his original form. He had shrunk in size and stuffed himself into Zhong Chengshuo’s backpack.
[We’ve reached our destination.] Zhong Chengshuo skillfully projected his thoughts after the tumultuous journey.
[What does it look like?] Yin Ren curiously asked.
Zhong Chengshuo directly packaged his memories and handed them over to Yin Ren.
Amidst a riot of colors, the mass of white stood out prominently. It resembled a tumor engulfing countless capillaries, yet also appeared to be a nest constructed by unknown insects.
Thick white threads pierced through tunnels, causing distortions, and turning what was once an orderly passage into a chaotic mess. Countless fragments of information floated in the air, while numerous gigantic Elementals guarded around the “nest”. They busily patrolled, resembling worker bees crowded on a honeycomb.
However, the nest wasn’t as simple as a beehive. It had spiderweb-like “feet” that stuck firmly in all directions. Embedded in the tangled white threads were hundreds and thousands of spherical bodies, each the size of a sports stadium. The white spheres were scattered in an organized manner, resembling some kind of fruit.
At the center of the “nest”, there was an irregular hemisphere. It was incredibly massive, perhaps even larger than a hundred world-class football stadiums stacked together. The end of the hemisphere was hidden in clouds and mist leading to nowhere. The visible side of the hemisphere was connected to thick and uneven milky-white tubes that extended like vines in all directions, ultimately disappearing into the white vortexes on the tunnels.
The oppressive feeling of this thing was almost like that of a whole planet.
[…] Yin Ren’s thoughts went blank for a few seconds. [This thing is strange. I don’t sense ‘Love’s’ aura.]
[Yeah, I don’t have any special feelings either.] Zhong Chengshuo responded through his thoughts.
Yin Ren: [Those Elementals don’t seem very strong.]
[I agree with Meng Huai’s judgment. If we can avoid a confrontation, we should. The first attempt is to probe the situation, and our ‘success’ will be rescuing Ms. He Huan.]
[I understand. Be careful.] Yin Ren replied, becoming serious rather than boastful.
Zhong Chengshuo fell silent for a moment. [Be careful?]
[Qi Xin mentioned this thing to me before. She said that the initial explanation from “Love” was to stock up on reserves for oneself, so as not to be too weakened in a tight spot. This aligns with our initial speculation… But now it seems that we can’t necessarily believe it completely.]
Yin Ren passed on his memories.
It was the appearance of the “white space” that Qi Xin had shown him.
It was just a thin web resembling a spider’s web, with small round balls hanging from it. However, in terms of size and scale, it was incomparable to the thing before their eyes. There weren’t many Elementals guarding it either, unlike the bustling scene now.
[The number of people who went missing twenty-nine years ago was much greater than recently.]
Yin Ren sighed.
[But this thing is a thousand times larger than twenty-nine years ago. Zhong Ge, prepare your lamp. This exploration is probably more dangerous than what Meng Huai and the others imagined.]
At the same time, Meng Huai also gave instructions.
“Now we officially divide into groups. The three of us, along with Fu Tianyi and Mao Wangfeng, will enter the interior to search for Ms. He Huan.”
“Remember, you only have twenty-four hours.”
The author has something to say:
Xiao Zhong picked up his backpack and his boyfriend is inside (……
“Yin Ren, what do you think?” Zhong Chengshuo stopped in front of Yin Ren.
The two of them were only a step apart, and the gentle red light flickered before them. The light was peculiar, as there were obstructions in front of them, yet it cast no shadows. The red light filled the space like a flowing liquid, sparing no corner.
Yin Ren was bathed in the red light from head to toe. In Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes, the essence of “Fear” surged incessantly.
Accompanying the surge were feelings of joy and anticipation.
Yin Ren shifted his gaze to the lantern.
His own hair and bones, along with Zhong Chengshuo’s hair and blood, formed this exquisite lantern. His blood, from the stab in his chest a thousand years ago, had long dissipated its pain. But what about those bones?
The person in front of him had just mentioned “experiment”…
Yin Ren had wanted to enthusiastically share the “joy of growth” a moment ago, but now it had become a thorn lodged firmly in his throat. He had initially wanted to reassure Zhong Chengshuo that he had grown stronger, even if he wasn’t sure whether he could overcome Love. At least Yin Ren would no longer be constrained by the other’s influence, forcing Zhong Chengshuo to take risky actions.
But he couldn’t say it now.
Yin Ren could tell at a glance how much material was used for that lantern. He took advantage of Zhong Chengshuo’s distraction to fiddle with it, just as Zhong Chengshuo had done to him.
He couldn’t express the message of joy. Yin Ren first wanted to ask “why”, but then swallowed his words.
He seemed to know the answer.
Facing an enemy far surpassing human strength, Yin Ren believed he had to stand in front of Zhong Chengshuo, and the person would know their limits and behave obediently. Zhong Chengshuo was emotionally detached and always rational, so it should be this way.
Just like in the Archive, when Yin Ren almost lost control, he thought Zhong Chengshuo would leave like the others.
Or like inside the Corpse Cage, when Yin Ren was nearly deceived by the “Attachment”, he also believed Zhong Chengshuo would choose the most “rational” path.
…Or even earlier, much earlier, with that silly black rabbit. It didn’t obediently escape like the others, but instead clung to his bones, sleeping beneath the Valley of Bones for a thousand years.
He always guessed wrong.
Zhong Chengshuo would always stay by his side, regardless of the past or the present.
Seeing Yin Ren’s prolonged silence, Zhong Chengshuo moved the lantern in his hand. The excitement on his face gradually cooled, turning into a standard pensive expression. He truly couldn’t understand Yin Ren’s expression, which mixed heartache, worry, anger, and a hint of sadness, surpassing Zhong Chengshuo’s comprehension.
But he recognized that touch of stubbornness in Yin Ren. So he quietly waited for Yin Ren to burst out in anger, and in his mind, he prepared a lengthy manuscript for debate. From family emotions to world peace, this person had prepared for all aspects, ensuring not a single detail would be missed.
However, the silence persisted.
Enveloped in the red light, clad in a red robe, the scene was like a bridal chamber with candles, yet it also resembled the deepest depths of hell.
Zhong Chengshuo mentally went through his script several times and decided to take the initiative. “I…”
Yin Ren: “That kid Huang Jin is too wasteful. He treated the bones like wood. If it were me, I wouldn’t have needed six arms, and I could have spared you some hardship.”
He snatched the lantern from Zhong Chengshuo’s hands, and the flickering red flames created a ripple of light and shadows.
“And using blood from the Evil Fruit—this kind of material can’t withstand your bones. When I made the Evil Fruit with a blood oath, I was only heavily corrupted by Evil Force, so the power of the blood and flesh was limited.”
Zhong Chengshuo blinked in confusion.
Yin Ren let go of the lantern, and it floated steadily in front of him. In the next moment, his long hair and red robe moved without wind, and his hair scattered around him.
Yin Ren closed his eyes, his brows slightly furrowed. A wing the size of a tangerine emerged from his chest. Then, a surge of blood emanated from his surroundings, and countless tiny blood droplets burst out from Yin Ren’s body. They eagerly rushed into the dark mass of wings, adding a thick layer of crimson to their surface.
Like being wrapped in a layer of red gauze.
“Moreover, at that time, the flesh and blood, including the agreement between me and Shian’s Evil Spirit, was about annihilating the Gouluo army for revenge. Why would we need to include a dog in our lantern?”
Yin Ren appeared dignified and majestic on the surface, but his words were quite anticlimactic. The blood droplets around him continued to gather into a mass of wings. The originally flat wings were now nearly spherical, trembling like pudding.
“Besides, the cause and effect of that revenge agreement have already been settled, and it doesn’t suit this lantern,” Yin Ren added.
As he spoke, the last drop of blood returned to its place. The small wings swelled to the size of a walnut, entwined with a curse-like Evil Force that was incredibly thick, like aged honey.
When it came to profound knowledge in the realm of metaphysics, Zhong Chengshuo could only freeze in place.
He watched as the mass of wings slowly floated towards the “Karma Lantern”. It first swallowed the roughly processed bone edges, then rubbed against the outer perimeter of the lantern, instantly transforming the originally dark and dense crimson into a flamboyant display. The color became even more enticing than before, while the aura became more solid and reserved.
Subsequently, the small wings found the crevices in the bone vessel and exerted their strength to squeeze inside.
The bone vessel contained blood taken from the Evil Fruit, and it was completely absorbed by the wings. After slightly expanding, the small wings neatly filled all the gaps in the bone vessel. They wrapped around the core of the bone filament wick, lying comfortably and flat.
Seeing the evolution of the Lantern from 1.0 to 2.0, Zhong Chengshuo extended his expectant hand, only to be pulled back solemnly by Yin Ren.
“It’s just ordinary flesh and blood,” Yin Ren said. “The strength of the Evil Fruit lies in the blood oath. But since your bones and hair are already in the lantern, there’s no need to take more blood—give me your hand.”
Zhong Chengshuo extended his expectant hand once again and gently placed it in Yin Ren’s palm.
“Zhong Ge, sometimes I really don’t know if you’re clever or just foolish,” Yin Ren sighed. “This is not an ordinary spell. If I were to use your bones and hair to cast a curse, there’s no guarantee that you wouldn’t be affected.”
Zhong Chengshuo: “Oh.”
Zhong Chengshuo: “You bled quite a lot just now. Does it hurt?”
Then, Zhong Chengshuo seemed to realize something significant. “Wait, can you use spells now? Why?”
Yin Ren glared at Zhong Chengshuo for a few seconds, feeling exasperated. He forcefully exhaled through his nose.
Now he could only use flesh and blood techniques, but he refused to say it out loud. He was frustrated with this person who couldn’t grasp the main point.
With a resentful thought in his mind, Yin Ren held Zhong Chengshuo’s hand, and their hands overlapped on the lantern. The small wings that had entered the bone vessel immediately became restless. Countless red threads entwined with their black hair, emerging from the flames and tightly gripping their fingers.
The sharp threads scratched the back of their hands, causing blood to flow, though it didn’t hurt.
Zhong Chengshuo curiously looked at Yin Ren, paying no attention to the rampant blood threads around them. Meanwhile, Yin Ren lowered his gaze, focusing on the flickering flame.
Not long ago, his wish for “an apple a day” was replaced by a desire to investigate the truth behind the fall of “Fear”, and now the truth was revealed. The wish he had made to Zhong Chengshuo back then was reduced to simply “protecting the descendants of the Valley of Bones”.
It was a perfect opportunity to fulfill them together.
“With you, I make this vow.”
Yin Ren took a deep breath and solemnly recited with a strange ancient charm. The countless red threads in the flame surged along with his words, covering the ground in a sea of red and blood threads, creating a daunting scene.
The usually lazy Yin Ren disappeared, and the person standing there transformed into the legendary Great Celestial Master Zhong Yi.
“First, may the rivers and seas be clear in this land.”
“Second, may the one who holds this lantern be free from harm and illness, safe and sound year after year.”
Yin Ren’s hair fluttered around him, and the blood threads danced wildly. He never imagined that the blood oath from a thousand years ago, carrying endless suffering and deep-seated hatred, would lead to this moment. On this day, he took out his flesh and blood and exerted all his efforts for a wholehearted blessing.
“Third…”
Yin Ren leaned close to Zhong Chengshuo’s ear, gritting his teeth.
“Third, let us become accomplices, rise in rank and salary, reach the pinnacle of life, and never again be bothered by the pile of shit on the Other Side. No need to go to work and endure bone-cutting, bloodletting tasks like a slaughterhouse.”
Zhong Chengshuo stared at Yin Ren in shock, but regardless of the refined or crude content of the blood oath, the small wings had already drawn blood from both of them and swiftly returned to the bone vessel. The thousands of blood threads quickly retracted, leaving the surroundings clean as if nothing had happened.
Only the lantern became a bit brighter. The vows merged with their flesh and blood, entwining the bones and blood of the two monsters, while the flame bloomed like a radiant sunset.
“The blood oath is complete.”
Yin Ren grabbed the floating, brand-new lantern and put it back into Zhong Chengshuo’s hand.
“According to the rules, we have to witness it until the end,” Yin Ren said in a firm tone. His hair and clothes were once again hanging down.
Although he was angry, he didn’t lose his temper in the end. They were both going through hardships for each other, just as Yin Ren had done similar things not too long ago, so he couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty.
They cherished and cared for each other. Since they both didn’t want to fall behind, they would support each other as they moved forward.
“The name ‘Karma’ is just right for this lantern. Let’s forget about what happened before, but from now on, you must tell me everything. We have a long way to go, and now we have the blood oath…” Yin Ren patted Zhong Chengshuo with a sense of world weariness. “Let’s get through it together.”
“Okay.”
Zhong Chengshuo looked left and right, but he didn’t see any pain or distortion on Yin Ren’s face, which put him at ease as he held the lantern. He examined the lantern in his arms for a moment, then leaned in and gently kissed the corner of Yin Ren’s mouth.
“Thank you for the improvements,” Zhong Chengshuo said hopefully. “Now, it only lacks two important functions.”
Yin Ren paused his hand from touching his mouth. “Lacks important functions?!”
The Karma Lantern still needed some adjustments, but it already had everything it was supposed to have. This was specifically improved by the Great Celestial Master himself, and no spirit smith could find any missing elements!
“Well, I want to add the ‘infinite dimming mode’ and the ‘illumination only mode’. These functions require further research,” Zhong Chengshuo said while hugging the lantern tightly; his eyes filled with anticipation.
“Zhong Chengshuo!” Yin Ren gritted his teeth, wishing he could take a bite.
“The lantern between you… Why did you put a dog in it?”
A faint voice came from the corner. Under the red light, Huang Jin curled up, his breath like a fragile thread.
“Let me go… I really… can’t take it anymore…”
Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo: “…”
“Hold on, Da Huang…” “I’m sorry.”
……
At dusk, in the midst of mountains in the human world.
Two young-looking individuals stood at the entrance of a mountain village. Autumn was coming to an end, with continuous cold rain, and the mountain path was filled with chilly mud. However, their shoes were remarkably clean.
“It’s isolated here. Do as you please.” Shen Mo assessed the misty mountains and spoke with a cheerful smile.
Xiang Jiang gazed at the village in front of him. The village remained dilapidated as ever, with smoke rising from chimneys like the breath of sick patients. Xiang Hai, who stood behind Xiang Jiang, had already revealed his grim ghostly face, with faces of people wailing in madness on his butterfly wings. This time, Xiang Jiang didn’t deliberately calm his brother.
He understood Xiang Hai’s pain.
It was this village that swallowed their parents, his brother, and their lives. Yet, the village stood there intact, surrounded by picturesque scenery, even appearing beautiful.
Shen Mo glanced at him sideways. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Placed in Shian or Fu Xingchuan’s hands, they wouldn’t allow you to seek revenge. Have some emotions, at least.”
“Why?”
“…Huh?”
“Your plan is to slowly corrupt and then use the power of the Elementals to completely influence the social atmosphere. But a massacre of a village like this is vastly different from your ‘boiling frog’ style.”
Xiang Jiang’s gaze remained fixed on the village ahead.
The corruption stick came first, then it was followed by the “angel’s arm” carrot from behind. When the world delved into chaos, people always looked for something to believe in or crazily sought power to cling to. What benefits could be gained from the Elementals remain unknown. But when the environment was ready, Sunken Society would naturally develop rapidly.
He couldn’t see the purpose behind Sunken Society’s move. Was it just to make him pledge his allegiance?
Shen Mo smiled. “Haven’t you had enough of being a leader in Shian? Interrogating criminals?”
With that, he took out a cigarette from his pocket and leisurely lit it. The silver-gray smoke quickly merged with the surrounding mountain mist, disappearing without a trace.
“At first, it was just a minor disturbance, and everyone was on edge. But soon, everyone will get used to it—human adaptability is truly astonishing. Before long, most people will think, ‘It was always like this’,” Shen Mo explained. “That’s when we add some stimulation. One or two bloody cases won’t cause panic, and since this place is far from the city, a few explosive news stories are just right. I believe you understand better than me how an environment that subtly changes can twist people into what they become.”
Shen Mo expertly blew a few smoke rings and casually pointed to the nearby mountain village.
“When people get used to this chaos, the usual sources of corruption won’t be enough… Xiang Jiang, I told you I would make you the most powerful propagator of madness. I keep my promises.”
Xiang Jiang remained silent for a long time.
Yes, he understood. Most people couldn’t suddenly become insane; they needed the torment of time and the accumulation of despair to collapse in silence.
On the other side, Shen Mo had smoked half of his cigarette before flicking the ashes. “Speaking of which, with blood vengeance in front of you, you still have the mood to linger with me on these matters.”
“I’m not lingering,” Xiang Jiang replied.
Shen Mo glanced at him once again, then raised an eyebrow in slight surprise. He hadn’t noticed that, at some point, Xiang Hai had disappeared without a trace.
In the nearby mountain village, the first scream echoed.
Bone for bone, flesh for flesh, something gradually took shape in the center of the village. It looked like a gigantic corpse centipede, with struggling hands or feet occasionally being absorbed into its body, forced to become part of the blurred flesh.
“Whether it’s controlling ghosts or commanding corpses, it’s all related to karma. That guy Xiang Hai, theoretically, has connections to the entire village.”
Xiang Hai stopped at the head of the centipede, directing its movement with screams. The layered faces on his wings were smiling sinisterly, which was a rare sight. As he watched the flesh centipede grow fatter, Xiang Jiang’s expression remained surprisingly calm, as if everything had nothing to do with him.
“I can do whatever is necessary. After all, that’s what you said.”
The shadow of the centipede continued to twist in the courtyard, and numerous earthen houses collapsed with a loud crash. Finally, Xiang Jiang revealed a smile. He extended his right arm, and a string of black Buddhist beads appeared on his wrist. These beads emitted an intense Evil Force, and Xiang Jiang’s wrist turned dark blue along with it.
The Resonance ability was activated.
The centipede’s screams echoed through the sky, and the surrounding withered grass quickly turned black and frosted over. Despair and hatred, accompanied by the malicious curses of countless deceased, instantly dispersed the mountain mist around them. Shen Mo finished his cigarette, and the smoke and fire in the village disappeared simultaneously.
Hmm, it happened even faster than he imagined.
If he hadn’t been traversing the Other Side all these years, Shen Mo would have almost been swallowed by the venomous resentment in an instant. The presence of the living in the village completely vanished, while the flesh centipede continued its frenzied rampage in place.
“This thing is pretty good,” Shen Mo commented. “It will be useful soon.”
The rumors about the “angel’s arm” have been spreading like wildfire, and Shian was suffering from the corruption source case. The “fire” in Haigu was almost ready.
Let everyone descend one step further into madness.
Lin Chen returned to the room to find a spare phone to replace the one he was currently using, and he handed the latter to Wang Chao for further research.
Xing Conglian didn’t get up, allowing Lin Chen to enter the room alone.
After closing the door, Wang Chao put down the pretense of typing on the keyboard and looked at him with a worried expression. “Is A’Chen Gege really okay now?”
Xing Conglian didn’t answer immediately.
Even Wang Chao could tell that something was off with Lin Chen. How could Xing Conglian not notice it?
From the beginning of their meeting, he could sense that Lin Chen was in a hurry, whether it was his urgency in talking to him in the car or the matter he entrusted to him regarding the text message.
Lin Chen now felt like a timed bomb that could explode at any moment. The more relaxed he appeared on the surface, the less one knew when the bomb’s timer would reach its designated point.
“What do you think?” Xing Conglian asked him.
“I don’t know, but I just feel that A’Chen Gege recovered too quickly. Is there anything else he needs to check?”
“Do you think he would be willing to go back to the hospital?”
Wang Chao whispered, “Damn it, Boss. As a man, he’s already slept through it all. You need to have some courage!”
Xing Conglian, for the first time, patted Wang Chao’s head. The young man’s hair was light and soft. He silently stood up and walked to the doorway.
When he opened the door, he found that Lin Chen didn’t appear to be anxiously rummaging through things, as he had expected.
Lin Chen sat quietly on the empty bed board, gazing at the sunny blue sky outside the window, so quiet that it seemed excessive.
The anticipated side effects of the medication seemed to have taken Lin Chen to another extreme.
Xing Conglian walked over slowly, and his shadow was outlined on the floor in the sunlight.
Lin Chen didn’t instinctively turn to look at him. He resembled a mannequin in a shop window, pure white and flawless, yet in that moment, he seemed to be immersed in a strange space known only to himself.
There were two phones on the bedside table, with the SIM cards removed but not inserted, just placed there. Lin Chen had clearly stopped working on them midway through.
Xing Conglian sat down beside him, and the empty bed board made a creaking sound.
Only then did Lin Chen slowly turn his head back, and a faint gleam flashed in his deep black eyes. He smiled at him.
Before Lin Chen could greet him, Xing Conglian spoke on his own. “The way you are now reminds me of someone.”
Lin Chen looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to use this as an opening line.
“Who?”
“My grandmother.”
As he spoke, Xing Conglian lay horizontally on the empty bed board, leaving Lin Chen sitting there in a daze.
He patted the empty space beside him and then reached out to hook Lin Chen’s shoulder, pulling him down.
With his unsteady balance, Lin Chen fell onto him, and Xing Conglian naturally held onto his waist, forcing him to stay on top of him.
After a while, Lin Chen’s body finally softened, returning to the same level of tenderness they had when they embraced in the car.
“What happened to your grandmother?” Lin Chen asked.
“Baby, you’re ruining the mood.” Xing Conglian kissed the top of his head and spoke slowly. “My grandmother was a strong woman with a warrior bloodline. She hunts bears in the summer and takes vodka baths in the winter.”
“The Tsar’s princess is extraordinary.” Lin Chen said.
Xing Conglian laughed, feeling that lying on the bare bed board, embracing Lin Chen, and not saying or doing anything else, was already more than enough. “It’s not that exaggerated. My grandmother isn’t from a prestigious family. She’s just an ordinary, beautiful girl from a warrior tribe.”
“That’s good. It’s good to have traditions.” Lin Chen said.
“What traditions?” Xing Conglian asked with a smile.
“After all, not all prestigious families would marry commoners. Your family has this tradition, and I feel relieved…” Lin Chen paused suddenly.
He seemed to be afraid that it was inappropriate to bring up the topic of marriage with Xing Conglian so abruptly, but he also felt that further explanation and elaboration would be inappropriate.
In that momentary pause, Xing Conglian had already perceived something. “Didn’t we agree to be willful?” He helplessly held Lin Chen tighter. “You can just say it now: Xing Conglian, marry me, and I would even agree without a diamond ring.”
“No, we still need to buy the diamond ring,” Lin Chen said. “We both need to contribute to the down payment for the house, take out a loan to slowly repay it, so we won’t buy a car. Since you have one, let’s save some money.”
Lin Chen’s tone of voice sounded old-fashioned, and Xing Conglian loved it.
It made him think that they had so much time before to talk and share about love and express their feelings, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it.
Now, even stealing moments to embrace each other felt precious, and every second was so sweet that it made him overwhelmed.
He put his hand behind his head, rested his head on it, and told Lin Chen, “The old man you saw earlier is a friend of the family. I asked him for a favor.”
“What favor?”
“I asked him to help me buy Zhourui Pharmaceutical.”
This news was too shocking, and Lin Chen struggled to sit up. Xing Conglian wouldn’t let him have his way and instead held onto Lin Chen’s waist like a pair of iron pliers. “Don’t move. What do you think you’re doing? I won’t let you go out.”
“I need to ask for help from online friends with my phone.” Lin Chen’s voice sounded gentle, tinged with a hint of worry. “My wife loves shopping too much; what should I do? Urgently waiting online.”
“I thought you would ask why. You’re always so clever. How can I trap you?” Xing Conglian blinked, rubbing Lin Chen’s head. “Originally, I was imagining something like Su Fengzi, to ruthlessly retaliate against Zhourui and dismantle them completely. Because if they weren’t so foolish, you wouldn’t have to suffer like this, and we would probably have already resolved these matters and be looking at the voyage of The Rose May.”
“The name sounds like your family’s ship. Instead of looking at the voyage schedule, why not just come and pick us up?” Lin Chen patted his chest, speaking in a tone of “that’s settled then.”
“But that’s impossible.” Xing Conglian dragged out his tone. “Hongjing isn’t by the sea.”
“Yeah, it’s impossible.”
Lin Chen’s tone was calm, but he stopped there, waiting for him to continue. However, it was apparent that their notions of impossibility didn’t stem from the same reason.
Xing Conglian continued to recall the retaliatory meeting earlier. He didn’t have the intention of coaxing Lin Chen to be happy. To be honest, he was quite adept at such things.
He didn’t have to say or do anything, and he could still make Zhourui’s situation chaotic, and then deliver a final blow, causing the entire building to collapse and crumble.
But as he gradually approached his intended goal, he felt that perhaps this wasn’t entirely correct. A vague clue seemed to connect everything together.
Shen Lian couldn’t be alone, and she couldn’t have independently developed a drug like TERN, with such clear and powerful contrasting effects. Behind her was a hidden plan spanning over a decade, with countless people secretly cooperating.
Everything could be summed up in one word: “Why?”
To induce social unrest with drugs, to turn healthy elderly into psychiatric patients, to destroy countless happy families?
These were all reasons, of course, but they were all insufficient.
Xing Conglian still didn’t know why all of this was happening, just like how Lin Chen didn’t fully understand why Shen Lian had to actively seek death at the hands of the police.
Some vague intuition told him that they had experienced similar things before, and what they needed to do was stand in the immense shadow cast by the puppet master behind the scenes, waiting for the other side to reveal a vulnerability, and then strike back.
However, the existence of a puppet master behind the scenes was merely a hypothesis.
To verify this hypothesis, he asked Chairman Zhou two questions and received concrete answers.
Zhourui did indeed receive a blackmail email. Although they didn’t know who sent the email, the sender clearly knew that they were covering up the adverse reactions of the Nao Kangning drug and using it to manipulate them.
After paying the bribe, Zhourui Pharmaceutical received the exact video of a murder at an amusement park.
In the blurry cellphone recording, it captured the moment when Shen Lian assassinated Tan Kang. Although the perpetrator wore sunglasses and pulled up their collar high, disguising themselves as a man, there was a moment when they turned their head, revealing a resemblance to Shen Lian.
The email provided related clues, pointing the finger at Shen Lian.
The email contained subtle hints that led Zhourui to believe that the sender was the captain of the Criminal Investigation Team in Hongjing.
However, later on, negotiations between Zhourui and “him” reached a breaking point. Zhourui took preemptive action, bravely severing ties before “he” could expose everything and accused him of forced extortion.
Then, the grand operation to besiege Shen Lian began.
The most interesting game was always the one that quietly began, observing the fight between tigers and benefiting from it.
But Shen Lian didn’t follow the planned script and died. Just like in Shen Lian’s plan, Duan Yang didn’t die, and the deceased became Duan Wanshan.
The plot took an uncontrollable path as a result.
In that email, there was obviously a hidden foreshadowing. The sender hoped that Xing Conglian would become angry and retaliate fiercely against Zhourui after being bitten by them. But Xing Conglian couldn’t do that.
When sitting in that meeting room, Xing Conglian felt countless times that Lin Chen was right beside him.
He despised Zhourui, and that was only natural. However, as he looked at the scientists standing up one by one, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a better choice than just watching the largest domestic pharmaceutical company go bankrupt.
Clearly, there was.
Money was truly good.
Xing Conglian felt this countless times.
While he spoke, Lin Chen leaned quietly against him, so silent that Xing Conglian thought he found the story boring, and Lin Chen had fallen asleep.
However, when he stopped, Lin Chen fittingly continued, “I understand. This is probably one of the purposes of this message.”
“Yes.”
“The sender hopes that this message will divert our attention from Zhourui Pharmaceutical and quickly move us into the next stage they have predetermined.” Lin Chen paused, then said, “But they probably don’t know that, firstly, you don’t have the habit of checking my phone, and secondly, something unexpected happened last night, resulting in a time gap. So, as the saying goes…” Lin Chen spoke lightly with a calm voice. “Those who attempt to manipulate fate will eventually be controlled by fate.”
Inside the old house on Yanjia Lane, Lin Chen placed his phone on the coffee table.
They hadn’t put away the arrangement they made earlier for discussing Zhourui Pharmaceutical, and there was a pile of cushions on the carpet.
Lin Chen didn’t want to go to bed and casually sat down on the floor. Xing Conglian had no choice but to stuff many cushions behind him.
However, as soon as he entered the house to get a blanket, Wang Chao barged in and carelessly threw his backpack next to Lin Chen, as if he were going to pounce on the pile of cushions.
“Stay away from your A’Chen Gege,” Xing Conglian held the blanket and sternly warned Wang Chao.
Wang Chao was still panting heavily, his face turned pale from intense running. He didn’t care about Xing Conglian’s tone and replied while resting his head on one of the cushions near Lin Chen, lying down and shouting at the ceiling, “Fuck me… damn… Boss, do you have no humanity… I… I took a taxi back… sprinted a hundred meters!”
“Are you tired and causing trouble by coming near?” Xing Conglian interrupted him. “Don’t you know your A’Chen Gege’s health isn’t good? What if you’re pressing on him?”
Upon hearing this, Wang Chao immediately sat up, panting, and carefully examined Lin Chen. He asked seriously, “A’Chen Gege, do you have any physical discomfort? Is the effect of that drug still present?”
Xing Conglian was afraid that Lin Chen would feel embarrassed, so he rushed over to pick Wang Chao up and take him away. But just as he was about to grab the back of Wang Chao’s neck, he heard Lin Chen say, “It’s fine. I’m normal. It’s just the usual discomfort after same-sex intimacy.”
Wang Chao was thunderstruck by his words. He stared at Lin Chen with his mouth wide open, almost letting the gum in his mouth fall out.
“What’s wrong?” Lin Chen reached back and petted the teenager’s hair.
Only then did Wang Chao snap out of it, and his face turned bright red. He stood up abruptly and couldn’t even speak properly. “I-I-I… A’Chen Gege, the Boss is a beast!”
Xing Conglian was bewildered by his sudden outburst. He saw Wang Chao rush into the bathroom like a gust of wind, and then, as if he had gone to the wrong place, he immediately rushed out and ran to the kitchen sink to drink water.
Finally, Xing Conglian bent down and had the opportunity to spread the blanket over Lin Chen. He half-knelt in front of Lin Chen and whispered, “Why are you so straightforward?”
Lin Chen hooked his neck, kissed him lightly, and smiled. “Why are you so shy?”
The gaze of his lover was calm and gentle, with long eyelashes that made people want to kiss them. Seeing him lying on the blanket was undoubtedly a very beautiful scene. Although they had already done what should and shouldn’t be done, at this moment, Xing Conglian also wanted to rush into the bathroom to calm down.
After Lin Chen finished speaking, perhaps feeling that if he continued, something would go wrong, he let go of Xing Conglian and called out stiffly to the young man drinking water in the kitchen. “Wang Chao, wait to drink water. I have something important to discuss with you.”
“Ah!” Wang Chao howled halfway in the kitchen, then rushed out like a little pet and obediently crouched next to Lin Chen.
Without need for any preamble, Lin Chen said directly, “After I woke up this morning, I received a text message.”
As he spoke, Lin Chen reached for the phone on the coffee table and lit up the screen.
A text message appeared on the white smartphone screen, still unopened and displayed in red letters.
Xing Conglian lowered his head to look. The sender was a long string of numbers that didn’t look like a phone number. The content of the message was also a string of characters.
——30:1103-1126
Wang Chao leaned in and glanced at the phone. He changed his sitting position to a cross-legged one, as if he was still feeling embarrassed. He deliberately kept a little distance from Lin Chen and said, “A’Chen Gege, is it a scam message? Don’t worry, I’ll make that jerk regret ever existing.”
Lin Chen shook his head and pushed the phone in front of the teenager. “Take a careful look, but don’t open the message yet.”
Wang Chao picked up the phone and looked left, right, up, and down. He almost put the phone in his mouth to taste it, but he still looked very puzzled. “Then, should I scan the phone for viruses or trace the source of this message?”
“What’s wrong?” Xing Conglian held his hand, but Lin Chen withdrew it, a subconscious physiological reaction that made Xing Conglian feel that Lin Chen was afraid of something. He immediately felt a sinking feeling in his heart.
The text message that made Lin Chen fearful and drove three hours back, disregarding his arrangements, must be something out of the ordinary.
Lin Chen held his hand back; even though his palm was cold, he remained emotionally restrained.
He looked at Wang Chao and asked slowly, “The content of this string of characters and the numbers displayed as the sender’s name—do they have any specific meaning in your field… In the field of technology? Can they be transformed into directly downloadable files, for example?”
Wang Chao’s face wrinkled, and he leaned on the table to observe carefully. “It’s not a magnet link, and it’s not a Bitcoin account address either. But now that you mention it, this string of numbers does seem strange. It doesn’t match the usual meaning of a phone number, nor does it look like a code from mass messaging software. It seems to have been tampered with… Should I try to decrypt it?” The young man hesitated slightly. “But there are many things to do right now. Are you sure you want me to decipher it? It’s possible that I’ve tried countless methods, and it’s just random data from a prank.”
Wang Chao’s rambling might have been a bit excessive, and Lin Chen suddenly rubbed his forehead.
Xing Conglian noticed that at this moment, Lin Chen seemed to be forcing himself. He didn’t know why Lin Chen’s mental state suddenly worsened, but the drug given by Shen Lian clearly couldn’t be completely metabolized overnight. He squeezed Lin Chen’s hand but didn’t receive the expected response.
“Do you need to rest for a while?” he asked.
“Not for now.” Lin Chen suddenly raised his eyes sharply. “Under what circumstances could I receive an unidentified message, with the possibility of the sender’s number being tampered with?”
“Ah, then it must be a fake base station,” Wang Chao replied. “It’s not difficult technologically. You just need a host and a laptop. The other party doesn’t even need to stay near you; they just need to slowly drive through a certain area.”
Xing Conglian looked at the time the message was received, which clearly showed 21:27.
At that time last night, Lin Chen was at Tzu Chi Hospital receiving treatment.
Xing Conglian said, “If someone knows your phone number, they can completely use an anonymous app to send you a message, but with the use of a fake base station, they can tamper with the sender’s number and turn it into a special string of digits. So, this string of numbers must have some meaning.”
“That’s what I think too.” Lin Chen nodded and asked Wang Chao with keenness, “Why did you immediately associate it with a Bitcoin account?”
“Ah?” Wang Chao scratched his head and pulled out his laptop from his backpack. “Because this morning, there was some activity on the Deep Web, and I was just about to ask the boss if we should monitor it.”
“Open it. Let me see,” Lin Chen said.
Wang Chao snapped his fingers and placed the laptop flat on the table, quickly lighting up the screen. “I was going to tell the boss about this today, but he didn’t even listen to me. A’Chen Gege, you tell him, how can someone be so irresponsible with work just because of love!”
“That’s true,” Lin Chen said calmly.
Wang Chao, for the first time, gave Lin Chen a resentful look and said in a desolate tone, “A world without love… I think… it’s time for me to move.”
Lin Chen patted his shoulder and pointed to the now illuminated computer screen, saying to Wang Chao, “Get to work. What’s happening on the Dark Web?”
“I was thinking if there was a large-scale betting activity, but I have no idea what these sickos are playing with.” Wang Chao gritted his teeth in anger and continued, “But A’Chen Gege, in one of the related posts, I saw a map of the three provinces around Hongjing. I’m afraid this event is related to us.”
Wang Chao, like completing a game level, delved deeper into the website, and finally, he managed to bring up a simple page with a black background and green letters.
The page was filled with various money symbols, exuding a predictably bloody and festive atmosphere.
Wang Chao quickly scrolled down the page until he reached the reply that he was particularly interested in.
The grammar used by the person who replied was complex and difficult to understand, clearly indicating a lack of proper education. Xing Conglian’s gaze shifted to the outline of the map in the reply.
With just one glance, he recognized that it was indeed a map of the three provinces surrounding Hongjing.
The map displayed the coastal provinces of Jiangxia and Zhelin, as well as the neighboring province of Yong’an.
The specific city names and roads were erased from the white-based map, replaced by numerous small black dots connected by lines, resembling a network radiating outwards.
Xing Conglian took out his phone, found a map of the three provinces, quickly zoomed in to a similar size, and compared it to the burnt-looking white-based map on the computer screen. Then he glanced at Lin Chen.
The dots and lines on the map didn’t represent specific cities or roads; they seemed to be meaningless grids.
Wang Chao was also very perplexed. He pointed to the words in the reply and asked, “Boss, what does this passage mean?”
“It’s Russian, roughly meaning ‘a balancing game on a wire’,” Xing Conglian glanced at the post and said coldly.
Wang Chao retreated back into the pile of cushions. “What the hell is this? Is the Chuunibyou syndrome* so severe across countries?”
*Japanese colloquialism describing early teens who have grandiose delusions, who desperately want to stand out, and who have convinced themselves that they have hidden knowledge or secret powers (AKA eight-grader syndrome/teenager syndrome).
Xing Conglian noticed that as he heard his answer, Lin Chen’s gaze became colder and seemed to freeze on the map.
A touch of pain flashed across Lin Chen’s face, and his complexion turned pale.
Xing Conglian held Lin Chen’s hand again, and Lin Chen returned the grip. He said briefly, “Give me some time.” He spoke solemnly, pressing his temple and looking at Wang Chao. “I’m just speculating on the possibilities of the sender because if you’re not familiar with it, the only person who is familiar with it can only be me.”
“I don’t understand,” Wang Chao looked at Lin Chen in bewilderment.
“I’m sorry. I was just hoping to get some other possibilities from you out of sheer luck.” Lin Chen smiled bitterly at Wang Chao. “If I’m not mistaken, in fact, these numbers represent citations from a particular publication,” Lin Chen said.
“Damn it.” Wang Chao bent down again and began typing on the keyboard, as if he wanted to immediately search for the literature.
Lin Chen stopped him. “The specific publication and citations can only be found by me. It would be a waste of time for you to search. But decrypting the sender’s identity will be your responsibility. We’ll work together.”
“Who could it be?” Xing Conglian asked.
Lin Chen’s gaze grew deep, and he furrowed his brows in silence.
Xing Conglian feared that at this moment, Lin Chen already had a speculation in his mind.
The person who took the opportunity to send him a message when he was mentally disturbed, after preventing Shen Lian from committing suicide—the identity of that person had become clear as day.
Kinky Translations 