Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 218: The Mission Commences

Night fell over Haigu.

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.”

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The author has something to say:

Xiao Zhong picked up his backpack and his boyfriend is inside (……

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 217: Blood Oath Renewal

“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…”

“…It’s a rough job.” Yin Ren finally spoke, directly interrupting him.

Zhong Chengshuo: “?”

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.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 216: Goodbye Evil Fruit

In nearly a thousand years, Qi Xin had never tasted “Panic”. But now, her mouth was filled with the bitter taste of panic.

After a Primordial Elemental matured, it accumulated the corresponding emotion within itself. It was like certain marine organisms in the human world that extract toxins from their food and accumulate them within their bodies.

For Elementals, this was an important means of controlling emotions. The entire process didn’t require subjective consciousness to participate—just like how humans cry when they’re in pain and laugh when they’re happy—it was the most basic instinct.

So if Yin Ren was just “Fear” with a slightly peculiar appearance, there would undoubtedly be a buildup of fear within him.

But Qi Xin couldn’t taste it.

She carefully chewed on that piece of flesh, and the fear in her heart grew stronger with each bite. That fear didn’t seep out from the flesh; it grew from the depths of her own heart, spreading wildly.

Qi Xin did sense a power close to that of a Primordial Elemental, but she couldn’t discern any emotions.

Yin Ren could devour Elementals, but he had never displayed the innate power of “Fear” in any battle. This cub tore and dragged its way through life, relying solely on the “destruction” ability that belonged to Fear.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Qi Xin clenched the wings tightly, and the wings tensed up as if they were trying to fight her.

“Yin Ren, what exactly are you?”

As she asked the question, two answers had already formed in Qi Xin’s mind.

The first one was a naturally mutated and deformed Fear.

Qi Xin had assumed that once Yin Ren matured, he would be able to unleash “Fear” in battle. Although Yin Ren had obtained immunity to emotions, he didn’t possess the ability to “instill fear in all things”. As for what other potential this guy might still have, Qi Xin had no idea.

In this case, Yin Ren could at least be considered a Primordial Elemental. Oh, how she wished it were true.

The second possibility was that Yin Ren was something that had never appeared before—born through the human world, an unknown shadow lurking in the dark.

He reminded her of a cuckoo bird*—a “foreign object” that infiltrated among its kind, destroying and plundering its surroundings as a child, deliberately obtaining guidance from the great Elementals before taking flight.

*Clarity: Some cuckoo birds are brood parasites that lay their eggs in the nests of other species. The chicks are then taken care of by the host’s nest and raised until they can survive on their own.

This possibility made Qi Xin extremely uneasy.

Since the human world could give birth to pests like the Charon, it wasn’t impossible for it to give birth to extremely bizarre monsters. After all, Old Fear only changed its form but still existed in essence, far from being considered “degraded”.

As long as Zhong Chengshuo’s daily needs were met and the quality of life improved, Old Fear couldn’t unleash its true form. In exchange, it gained the ability to roam both sides and an immortal physique. Those pitch-black eyes still retained the unique authority of “Fear”.

But what if the Fear from the Other Side had always been present?

What exactly was this monster before her, born from the flesh and blood that absorbed Fear? It had just completed one transformation, but what would it become afterward?

[What am I?]

To make matters worse, Yin Ren, her opponent, responded quickly. This time, his thoughts carried a hint of amusement.

[A thousand years ago, I wasn’t quite sure. And now, I’m still not quite sure. Shouldn’t you be the one teaching me about this?]

The clump of wings writhed in Qi Xin’s hand. When it was in Zhong Chengshuo’s hands, it would only flatten into a soft and warm bundle, but now it felt like a hot iron, hissing and corroding Qi Xin’s palm.

[But it’s not a big deal. We can put it aside for now. It’s time for you to teach me how to “find people”.]

Before Qi Xin could reply, Yin Ren continued on his own. He used the clump of wings to send Gao Mengyu’s cat back to the courtyard, and the red veil on the sea of wings still fluttered and swayed like a transparent tide.

[I’m counting on you, senior.] He said. [At this point, there’s no turning back for you and me.]

……

During this period, “Fear” wasn’t idle either.

Zhong Chengshuo sat to the side, focusing on watching Meng Huai give a small class to the three cultivators, Ge Tingting, Huang Jin, and Fu Tianyi. Dr. Cat and Lu Xiaohe were busy confirming the details of the operation with Xiao Zheng—logically speaking, that should have been Zhong Chengshuo’s job.

Comrade Xiao Zhong, who had always been dedicated to his work, finally rebelled for once.

He listened attentively to Meng Huai’s explanation of mixing flesh and blood and the little tricks of using the repulsion. From time to time, he recorded carefully on a piece of imaginary paper and pen, looking as serious as a junior high school student on their first day of school.

“Things imagined cannot harm Elementals. But if you mix them with prepared flesh and blood, they can be useful.”

Meng Huai scribbled on the whiteboard.

“Just like Chengfeng’s gun—she’s familiar with the internal structure and operational principles of firearms. As long as she uses blended flesh and blood instead of gunpowder, she can use it to attack. But since you don’t have a deep understanding of the structure and feel of firearms, it’s difficult for you to imagine it precisely, so this technique won’t work for you.”

“Next, you need to imagine the weapons you’re skilled with and enchant them with the Elemental’s flesh and blood—failure is fine, we can separate the flesh and blood without wasting it…”

Zhong Chengshuo listened attentively, recording every word in his notebook with neat handwriting.

“Little brother, you can’t take the things you imagine with you.” Zhong Chengfeng sat down next to her supposed younger brother.

Compared to when they first met, this policewoman had become more cheerful and talkative.

Her younger brother had a handsome appearance and was clearly a well-behaved child. He definitely wouldn’t encounter the kind of trouble she did in the police station. Although her younger brother’s physical age was older than hers, fortunately, he didn’t exude a sense of age in his appearance, which made Zhong Chengfeng feel at ease.

It had been close to thirty years since she had taken care of her parents. Even though Zhong Chengshuo had directly declared his “adopted son” status, Zhong Chengfeng still showed a concern that seemed blood-related.

“I’m used to taking notes. It helps me organize my thoughts,” Zhong Chengshuo obediently replied.

Zhong Chengfeng clicked her tongue. “You’re truly the ideal obedient child for our parents. When I used to sit quietly at my desk for half an hour, they would burn incense in gratitude. It’s good that you’re saving them the worry.”

“They have always missed you,” Zhong Chengshuo said honestly.

Zhong Chengfeng paused, and her expression suddenly filled with a hint of bitterness. “…I know.”

Her gaze shifted to her own knees, and she fell into a brief silence. Zhong Chengshuo decided to bring up a topic to strengthen their familial relationship.

“Actually, recently, I encountered a problem. You’re a police officer and have seen many troublesome things, so I wanted to consult your opinion.”

Zhong Chengfeng turned her head, and her eyes brightened. “Tell me about it. I’ll do my best to help.”

She had spent more time on the Other Side than in the human world. The previous world was like a dream full of wonders, and she wanted to savor every detail.

So she particularly liked these types of questions.

“Well, a long time ago, I used to work at a company…”

Wait, Lu Xiaohe mentioned that her younger brother graduated from a prestigious university and came to Shian for an internship right after graduation. Although Lu Xiaohe’s gaze was always strangely unfocused when she mentioned it, she didn’t seem to be lying.

Zhong Chengfeng kept the question in her heart and listened attentively.

“In my department, I was the only one. Usually, I didn’t socialize with any colleagues. The salary was neither high nor low, just enough to feed myself. Besides sleeping, I only worked and had nothing else to do. At that time, I thought it was good enough to have enough to eat and didn’t consider anything else.”

Zhong Chengfeng: “…” What a miserable job. Even if he had a degree in bioenvironmental science and a master’s from A University, why did he end up like this?

“Later on, a few colleagues didn’t like me. They dragged me into an alley and beat me up, destroying my contract and identification documents. I couldn’t go to work anymore.”

Zhong Chengfeng felt a bit suffocated, and her blood pressure visibly rose a bit. “…Didn’t you report it to the police? What about labor arbitration?”

“At that time, I didn’t know anything,” Zhong Chengshuo said guiltily. “In any case, I left that company. Now I not only have enough to eat but also have my own life, loved ones, and family. I’m much happier than when I was mechanically surviving.”

“Then what do you want to ask me?” Zhong Chengfeng scratched her head. This should be a good ending.

“Now, that company can’t continue operating. They haven’t been able to find suitable people for my position.”

Officer Zhong’s sense of justice suddenly ignited. “They deserve it, right? We should have a celebration feast when it shuts down.”

“To maintain their operations, the company will resort to less decent methods. It will harm many innocent people and even involve my family.” Zhong Chengshuo shook his head. “Even if I want to help, my physical condition is not suitable for that kind of work anymore. That’s the current situation.”

“Um, are you really not considering reporting it to the police?”

“They won’t be able to catch them.” Zhong Chengshuo raised his eyes.

Zhong Chengfeng, being knowledgeable and experienced, didn’t ask further. “But you said your health is not suitable. If you go back, it would be like risking your life as a secret agent. Sacrificing yourself for such a garbage company is not worth it. Finding someone else to take over the position would be a bit unethical.”

“That’s right.” Zhong Chengshuo tightened the grip on his notebook. “And there are some things that… only I can do.”

The situation on the Other Side was delicate, and he didn’t want Yin Ren to become “Fear”.

Furthermore, Zhong Chengshuo had a vague feeling that the path of growth for Yin Ren might not be as smooth as Qi Xin imagined. Even if he was a special individual within the biological population, the difference between Yin Ren and himself was too great.

“In other words, it won’t work without you. But you don’t want to go back, and even if you did, you couldn’t do what you did before.” Zhong Chengfeng toyed with the gun in her hand. “Hmm… I have heard some gossip in the Economic Investigation Bureau. Partners lose trust in each other and go their separate ways, causing a mess.”

“But I don’t know much about these things, so I may not be able to provide a plan. I have only one suggestion—since you have made up your mind to intervene, you should show off your muscles properly.”

Zhong Chengshuo looked at her in confusion.

Zhong Chengfeng gestured in the air. “There are some things that only you can do, and you have to magnify this point. ‘It can’t be done without me.’ That’s a remarkable bargaining chip.”

“Afterward, whether it’s paying you as a consultant to mentor new recruits or bringing up old issues for compensation, it will be a powerful negotiation tool. But abilities are not credible without proof, so it would be best to have some project evidence…”

Zhong Chengshuo fixed his gaze on her. After about half a minute, he looked at Meng Huai, who was still lecturing diligently, and then turned his head to Zhong Chengfeng. The latter felt a little uneasy under his gaze. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re right,” he said. “My idea has become more refined. Thank you.”

Zhong Chengfeng: “…You’re welcome?”

“Next, I want to ask you for a favor.”

Zhong Chengshuo stood up and signaled for Zhong Chengfeng to follow him as he walked towards the slightly ajar door of the “armory”. After Zhong Chengfeng entered the room, he carefully closed the door, making sure no sound would escape.

The body of small-scale Elementals hung silently, emitting a chilling aura. Zhong Chengfeng’s smile seemed a bit forced, and her hand instinctively approached the gun handle. “What’s the matter? Why the secrecy?”

“I want you to help me separate the flesh from this weapon,” Zhong Chengshuo said in a low voice.

“I need purer materials; the current ones are not very suitable. This thing is quite special, and it’s inconvenient to show it to others.”

Zhong Chengfeng narrowed her eyes. “Show it to me.”

Zhong Chengshuo took a few deep breaths and pulled out the short knife, the “Evil Fruit”, from his backpack.

When Meng Huai had her accident, Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t “been born” yet, so the Evil Fruit had remained sealed deep in the Shian’s warehouse. Zhong Chengfeng was just an ordinary person. Even though she had been trained like a science post, Meng Huai wouldn’t have taught her this.

In theory, neither of them had seen the real Evil Fruit.

As expected, when Zhong Chengshuo pulled out a short knife, Zhong Chengfeng relaxed her brow. “You want to separate the evil flesh from it? I’ll remind you, once it’s separated, the knife as a base won’t hold up—even if you can substitute it with imagination, it won’t return to the human side.”

“It’s okay,” Zhong Chengshuo said sincerely. “This was given to me by someone else… Sister, when you separate it, don’t touch it. It’s a bit dangerous.”

The term “sister” was particularly sincere, and Zhong Chengfeng appreciated it.

“A self-defense cursed spirit weapon, huh? In that case, put the knife on the ground and imagine a container.”

“Mm.”

Zhong Chengfeng skillfully imagined a set of tools. She used tongs to hold the Evil Fruit and placed it on top of a glass funnel. Then she took the glass bottle that Zhong Chengshuo had imagined and placed it below the funnel.

After completing all this, she took a big step towards the low cabinet in the cold storage and took out a bottle of clear oily substance. “This is extracted from Elemental flesh and can dissolve the Elemental flesh in the weapon.”

She opened the cap and poured half the bottle onto the Evil Fruit in the large funnel.

The Evil Fruit made a hissing sound as it dissolved. It wrinkled and deformed like a thin plastic sheet exposed to fire. The beautiful crimson layer on the blade gradually separated from the knife, flowing down the funnel and dripping into the small glass bottle that Zhong Chengshuo had imagined.

It was a dim red liquid flowing with countless vortices, captivating and breathtaking. As the last bit of the blade dissolved, it lay silently in the glass bottle, beautiful like a dream.

“This is truly…”

Zhong Chengfeng couldn’t help but glance at it a few more times.

“Forget it, let’s first separate the extraction liquid. After the separation, let it settle for a few seconds; it will float above the flesh. After separation, we can reuse it… Hmm?”

That pool of red remained motionless, as if the extraction agent had never existed.

Zhong Chengshuo: “…That extraction agent was made from Elemental flesh.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t I mention that?”

“Then it’s possible it can’t be separated now.” Zhong Chengshuo’s tone became even more sincere. “This flesh is quite special.”

Particularly edible.

Zhong Chengfeng: “…”

Zhong Chengfeng: “…Why do I feel like I’ve been tricked by you?”

Zhong Chengshuo touched the bottle for a while—inside the small bottle, there was the flesh and oath of Yin Ren, and he could feel the surging power within it.

“Thank you. I won’t use it for bad things, I promise.”

“Promises mean nothing. I’m a police officer,” Zhong Chengfeng laughed. “I’ll tell Meng Huai about this matter.”

“Of course.”

Just helping to deal with a “cursed spirit weapon with Evil Force”, even if Meng Huai confirmed it with the others in Shian, they probably wouldn’t say much.

—With “Fear” itself here, whether it was a spirit weapon or not didn’t matter.

The small glass bottle was placed deep in the backpack, surrounded by countless white bones. In the darkness, it still swayed with intoxicating light.

Zhong Chengshuo sat back in Meng Huai’s small classroom.

He probably had an idea of what to do with it. What he lacked most now wasn’t materials but knowledge.

“The method of igniting Elemental flesh, how to control the reaction speed, and expand the effect of spells…” Zhong Chengshuo muttered softly while taking notes.

The pen slid across the paper, depicting something besides words.

His gaze swept over the design, which looked like a blueprint for an object.

……

Huang Jin felt a drumming in his heart as he looked at the design in front of him.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t make such a thing; he had already made something close to what Zhong Chengshuo had requested. But whenever he thought about the material for this thing, his hands couldn’t help but tremble.

At this moment, he stood in the secret underground chamber specially constructed by Zhong Chengshuo.

In front of him was a delicate and beautiful lantern.

Zhong Chengshuo’s snow-white bones had been transformed by Huang Jin into an unrecognizable shape and turned into the main body of the lantern. At first glance, this lantern had a simple and beautiful design, with an ivory-colored lampshade and pole. No one knew how many intricate runes were hidden inside its sleek design.

The exterior of the lantern was painted with a breathtaking red. The red seemed to possess life, constantly flowing on the surface of the lantern, emitting a strange shimmer.

Internally, the lantern had a makeshift glass cover made from imagination to shield it from wind and rain. In the center of the bottom, there was a white bone vessel that securely held the remaining “red pigment”—the cursed flesh of Yin Ren extracted from the Evil Fruit.

Zhong Chengshuo had designed everything regarding the amplification structure of the spell, the area of flesh integration, and more. The only thing they couldn’t find was the right material for the wick. No matter how sturdy the material was, it couldn’t withstand the demands of this exceptional lantern.

If they use Zhong Chengshuo body as the material for the wick for the lantern, the “wick” and the “lamp oil” would repel each other and fail to produce the desired effect.

Huang Jin stared at the lantern in front of him with a distressed expression, his eyes fixated. On one hand, he felt that this thing could potentially make his name go down in history, but on the other hand, he wasn’t quite sure if it would result in a good or bad reputation.

“I’ve done my best, but I really can’t figure it out.”

Huang Jin slumped onto the table, wearing an expression that said, “Just kill me already.”

“It’s been days. Why don’t you go find Yin Ren? He’s at least a spiritual genius as the Great Celestial Master. You can consult him without any risk.”

While Zhong Chengshuo continued to frantically write and draw, he responded, “After all, it’s my bones. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I need to succeed at least to… “

“I see. You just don’t want to show him that you’re not capable.” Huang Jin snorted. “King Yama always has a plan, always has ideas, and never finds himself powerless… Isn’t that exhausting?”

Zhong Chengshuo glanced at him thoughtfully.

The exhaustion from consecutive work overcame Huang Jin’s fear. Seeing Zhong Chengshuo remain silent, Huang Jin became more determined. “It’s about time you show some vulnerability. According to Meng Huai’s plan, once everyone else is trained, she wants to attempt a rescue mission.”

“Yin Ren promised to help Lu Xiaohe, so if you’re actively arming yourself now, it’s like helping Yin Ren. He definitely won’t think you’re incapable.”

Zhong Chengshuo continued to contemplate. “You understand these things well?”

“Of course.” Huang Jin lifted his gaze. “After all, I’ve mixed with Nightwalkers before. I have a good grasp of this level of human nature; it’s a piece of cake for me.”

“Then why don’t you confess your feelings to Ding Lizi?”

“…Goodbye. I’m going to train with Meng Jie.” Huang Jin quickly changed the subject.

Just as the words left his mouth, the space suddenly fluctuated. Huang Jin thought that Zhong Chengshuo had become angry and quickly darted to the corner, crouching down to hide. Zhong Chengshuo, on the other hand, furrowed his brow and instinctively raised his arm in a defensive posture.

“A confession? What confession?”

Before the sound of the person even arrived, Yin Ren’s figure appeared from the space.

He was still dressed in red, with his long hair flowing. However, this time, the ends of Yin Ren’s hair swayed gently, and his face showed a hint of relief, indicating that he had achieved some progress over the past few days.

Huang Jin relaxed from his protective posture. “Why is it you?!”

“I was practicing moving between realms,” Yin Ren happily replied. “Qi Xin didn’t deceive me. Not bad.”

They had reached a point where they could only go all the way. Although Qi Xin didn’t know what Yin Ren was, she had some understanding of his nature. As long as Zhong Chengshuo was by his side, Yin Ren and Love would never cooperate. The enemy of an enemy is a friend, and at this point, she could only make do with the situation.

So she taught Yin Ren how to move as a Primordial Elemental—

Don’t use your legs, use your imagination. It was like two people on opposite ends of a network, agreeing to enter the same virtual room to play a game. Instead of searching through the underlying data one by one, which would be an enormous task, as long as they found the “shared imagination”, they could find the place.

Just like that white room.

According to Zhong Chengshuo… When that person intended to do something bad, they would surely imagine that basement. Yin Ren tried to imagine it and actually found it. After several days apart, Yin Ren couldn’t help but take two steps to rush over, giving his beloved a firm embrace.

Unfortunately, there was an additional Huang Jin inside.

“Hey, you brought Huang Jin in specially. Are you secretly doing something?” Lord Ghost King marched straight to the table. “Let me see. Let me see.”

Zhong Chengshuo instinctively blocked Yin Ren’s steps. He looked at Yin Ren, then at Huang Jin, and then back at Yin Ren.

Finally, he hesitated and moved his feet aside, lowering his head. “…My experiment hasn’t been successful yet.”

It was rare to see Zhong Chengshuo in such a state, and Yin Ren’s attention immediately shifted from the table. As a mature Primordial Elemental, he extended a strand of hair generously and gently touched Zhong Chengshuo’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Yin Ren tried to indicate that his hair was movable while asking with concern.

Zhong Chengshuo looked at that strand of hair, and his eyes gradually lit up.

“Give me one of your hairs,” he said. “The longer, the better.”

Yin Ren: “?”

While he made a questioning expression, the hair had already been plucked. The soft hair lay gently in Zhong Chengshuo’s palm, still carrying Yin Ren’s body temperature.

Then, Zhong Chengshuo plucked a few strands from his own head. He took out a clean and delicate bone and carefully wrapped Yin Ren’s hair around it, intertwining it with a few strands of his own short hair to ensure they were evenly mixed.

With this, there was a connection between them—both intertwined with each other. The “wick” and the “lamp oil” wouldn’t violently repel each other.

Looking at that sparkling bone, Yin Ren’s smile froze, and his complexion changed slightly.

Unaware of this, Zhong Chengshuo placed the brand-new “bone hair wick” on the bone vessel and reassembled the lantern.

“What is this?”

Yin Ren looked at the lantern, his throat tightening.

“That is the blood I left on the Evil Fruit, and your… your…”

Once-praised, sturdy, and gleaming white bone.

Zhong Chengshuo didn’t answer.

In his pitch-black eyes, intricate patterns surged—the essence of “Fear” was activated, emanating its unique power. At this moment, that power followed Zhong Chengshuo’s gaze, gathering on the wick.

First, there were small red sparks.

The runes inside the lantern were instantly activated, driven by Meng Huai’s optimized tranquility talismans. The repulsion was contained within a tiny range. Soon, the sparks turned into flames.

Red, gentle flames. They gently blossomed on the bone hair wick, resembling a delicate bud.

In an instant, the red glow illuminated the basement. Like a magnificent sunset, everything was covered in a faint red hue.

But what permeated wasn’t just the beautiful red light.

Under the red glow, Huang Jin huddled in place, clutching his arms tightly. His teeth chattered, and his hair stood on end. Even Yin Ren could sense the slight trembling—

Zhong Chengshuo stood in place, holding the burning lantern, as if holding a setting sun. The red light illuminated his black hair but failed to illuminate his pitch-black eyes.

He stood there, showing a slight smile, exuding an utterly chilling aura that didn’t belong to a human. It was evident that most of that fear had been artificially suppressed. However, its power was still astonishing—like needles piercing the brain. Even though Yin Ren had just experienced a dream training session, his back was drenched in cold sweat.

The most ancient Primordial Elemental… the true “Fear.”

“The prototype has many shortcomings, but the power control is sufficient. Once Huang Jin leaves, we can try high-power operation.”

Zhong Chengshuo announced with satisfaction, raising the lantern slightly.

The principle of this thing is actually quite simple—

Zhong Chengshuo’s essence remained only in his residual eyeball. Previously, he could only exercise limited control by close observation. Now, utilizing the mutual repulsion power of a top tier Elemental, he could spread his abilities in all directions without dead angles.

His innate ability to infect all things with “Fear”.

Whether it was through his gaze or the blade, the range that could be affected was ultimately limited. But what if it was transformed into “light”?

“The experiment is successful.”

Zhong Chengshuo contentedly approached Yin Ren as the flame of the lantern gently flickered.

“Sorry, I used up the ‘Evil Fruit’… As for this lantern, I want to call it ‘Karma’*.”

*Clarity: As explained before, the Evil Fruit’s name comes from the Buddhist term, bitter fruit that arises from the cause of evil… in other words, karma/retribution. So this new name is quite apt.

“Yin Ren, what do you think?”

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 215: Foreign Objects

Since the corruption had been rampant, Li Nian had been living in the Shian Building for the most part.

Superficially, this corruption incident was comparable to an old lady’s foot-binding cloth—long and stinky with no end in sight. But in terms of the severity of the situation, Shian had no need to be so vigilant.

The headache had always laid with the police—under the influence of corruption, the crime rate in Haigu kept rising. Panic was like cracks in porcelain. Once you experienced it, you could never go back to your original state of mind.

Spreading panic was easy, but repairing such damage took a very long time. Nowadays, the past civilization and tranquility had all turned into illusions.

This time, Sunken Society played their hand, and the source of corruption had continuously spread. When the world was in chaos, people naturally turned to seeking gods and praying to Buddha. Many cultivators had seen their businesses thrive, and some had developed ulterior motives. Despite Shian’s repeated warnings, various corruption sources still found their way into the market in various forms.

Some of them had been intentionally spread by unscrupulous Nightwalkers.

At that stage, it wasn’t just a matter of preventing and controlling corruption sources anymore. Fu Xingchuan had returned and acted swiftly, shutting down the night market despite public opposition. The situation had somewhat improved but had still not been completely resolved.

Sunken Society had also been quietly taking action around the surrounding cities near Haigu. Recently, even the neighboring towns gradually experienced chaos. After the chaos had emerged, the “angel’s arm” inevitably followed, offering a buy-one-get-one-free deal.

However, both the subtle urban atmosphere and the entertainment self-media that had exaggerated the “angel’s arm” had not been within Shian’s direct reach. Fu Xingchuan had been busy figuring out how to deal with corruption sources, while Li Nian had repeatedly examined the investigation report of the Coral Reef Group.

When Gao Mengyu’s urgent notification arrived, he had just finished reading the financial report of the Coral Reef Group from the previous year.

“…Don’t get excited, Miss Gao. Please take your time to explain.”

After listening for several minutes, his expression hadn’t shown shock but had gradually become gloomy.

“I understand. Tomorrow’s arrangements won’t change for now. I will personally investigate the ‘angel’s arm’ with you,” he said. “Fu Xingchuan will follow up on the issue you mentioned.”

After ending the call, Li Nian quickly dialed Fu Xingchuan’s number.

“Gao Mengyu’s cat sent a message saying that they had encountered some missing people on the Other Side. There may have been survivors among the remaining missing people, so it would be best to prepare emergency rescue measures at the underground exit.”

“However, considering that the message from Gao Mengyu’s cat is in ‘tablecloth handwriting’, it can also be smoke bombs from Sunken Society.” Li Nian’s tone had remained calm. “We just need to prepare medical resources in advance.”

After saying that, he didn’t wait for Fu Xingchuan’s reaction and abruptly ended the call. A warm dizziness swept over him, and Li Nian unscrewed his thermos and took a few sips of tea—it was as thick as medicinal soup and incredibly bitter that it numbed Professor Li’s tongue.

Did he sleep a total of eight hours in the past three days?

Li Nian pressed his temples forcefully and involuntarily looked towards the window. It was the early hours of the morning, and the city outside was shrouded in a hazy shadow… His position should have belonged to Meng Huai. If that person hadn’t gone missing, she might have been the Minister of the Emergency Management Department.

“Why bother?”

A cheerful voice sounded in his ear.

As the saying went, “one has thoughts during the day and dreams at night*”, but Li Nian hadn’t fallen asleep, and that voice had come out of his dream.

*(日有所思夜有所梦) Proverb that implies one’s mind is occupied with thoughts and ideas during the day that fill your dreams at night.

Meng Huai’s arm rested on his shoulder, and the voice drew closer.

“Xiao Li, be careful not to stay up late all the time, or you won’t grow taller, you know.”

Li Nian tightened his grip on the thermos as his chest heaved dramatically. His other hand barely grasped the phone, and his finger trembled incessantly. It took him a while to steady it on the table.

Then he turned around, and the warm tea splashed out, hitting the figure behind him directly—

Meng Huai was standing right there.

She was wearing the red shirt she had gone missing in, with her hair neatly tied up in a high ponytail. The person wore a delicate bracelet on their wrist, which looked out of place on the scar-covered hand. The ring on the ring finger was identical to his.

The tea splashed onto her, creating a large wet stain in front of her, resembling blood. The aroma of tea permeated the office, and the tea flowed down the fabric, dripping onto the floor, drop by drop.

How real it felt.

The tea splashed onto her, but she didn’t seem annoyed. She stood in the corner of the office, smiling as she looked over.

“It’s an illusion,” Li Nian said in a deep voice. “You’re not her.”

Meng Huai laughed heartily. “Come on, don’t pretend. Little Brother Li, with your personality, how could you easily be influenced by illusions?”

Li Nian stared with bloodshot eyes. He hesitated for a moment, and then he reached out his hand, placing it gently on Meng Huai’s shoulder.

A tangible touch; the warmth of a human being.

“A tangible entity,” he said. “The possibility of an illusion still can’t be ruled out.”

Meng Huai laughed until her laughter caused small creases to form on her nose. “Hahaha! You’re truly something, becoming a minister and still looking so dead.”

Li Nian tried to grab her arm, but Meng Huai dodged as gracefully as he remembered, evading his grasp. Her clothes were still damp and dripping with tea.

Meng Huai made a face at him. “Actually, you guessed right. This is a spiritual perception—thanks to Yin Ren’s communication, I managed to barely project myself from the Other Side. Whether you believe it or not, I will be with you from now on.”

As she spoke, her words softened, carrying a hint of tenderness and melancholy.

“All this time, I’ve been—”

“That’s enough.” Li Nian’s face showed displeasure as he directly interrupted the person in front of him. “You’re not her!”

“The Meng Huai I know would never believe that I joined Shian. Even if there is irrefutable evidence of ‘me becoming a minister’, her first reaction upon seeing me would be to shower me with curses.”

His voice gradually turned cold.

“If you can affect me, you must be something very powerful and dangerous.”

The smiling face of “Meng Huai” twisted slightly. She crossed her arms and calmly interjected, “In your memories, there is no such scenario. What makes you so certain?”

Li Nian remained silent.

“Lao Li!” Fu Xingchuan kicked the door open. “Rare to see you calling for emergency assistance. You—”

“Who are you talking to?” Fu Xingchuan’s expression changed from anxious to perplexed. He looked around, even “sniffed” loudly. “There’s no unusual aura?”

“I’m talking to the ‘angel’s arm’.” Li Nian gazed at the figure standing two steps in front of him. “Meng Huai” was still there, playfully greeting Fu Xingchuan.

Fu Xingchuan’s expression fluctuated, eventually settling on alertness. “Even you…”

“Impressive, Minister Li. You immediately called for backup.”

“Meng Huai” clapped her hands and laughed a few more times. In an instant, her figure flickered, and those warm arms encircled him again, like an embrace between ordinary lovers. The wedding ring on its ring finger shone brightly.

“What a pity—” It blew air into Li Nian’s ear. “From the very beginning, you shouldn’t have engaged in a conversation with me.”

……

The next morning, Dr. Sun left the hospital. But when she left the hospital, she didn’t go home; she went straight to change into work clothes.

Officer Sun, carrying a thermos filled with stewed chicken soup, was waiting near his daughter’s office early in the morning. “Hey, sweetie. Dad stewed the chicken specially last night—be careful, it’s still hot.”

“Where’s Mom?” Dr. Sun took the thermos with both hands.

“The department has been busy lately, but I can find someone to cover for me. She couldn’t leave temporarily.” Officer Sun’s smile was somewhat awkward. “She said yesterday that she can take a break in a couple of days and come to the hospital to see you.”

“She cares.” Sun Qi’an smiled warmly. “Actually, my situation isn’t too bad, and the tumor in my head is stable. The big shots say that as long as I don’t experience severe impact, I might just peacefully coexist with it until the end of my life.”

Officer Sun moved his lips, hesitating for a moment. “Sweetie, please don’t overthink it. Your mother, she…”

“Mom cares about me. Her absence this time has nothing to do with me not being her biological daughter.” Sun Qi’an pushed Officer Sun playfully. “Come on, it’s been so many years. I’m not a grade schooler anymore.”

Officer Sun forced a couple of dry laughs. “Right, my baby girl has grown up.”

Bidding farewell to her father, Sun Qi’an glanced at her phone—the inquiry arranged by Shian seemed to be at 9 in the morning, so she had time to finish the soup. Officer Sun had also specially packed soft pancakes. If they were left for too long, the steam would ruin them.

So she found a lounge, pulled out a soft and fair chair, and wiped the warm tabletop that looked like living skin. The window was slightly open, and rows of arms by the bed swayed in the breeze, casting soft shadows.

Sun Qi’an carefully rolled up her sleeves, attentively tore open the pancake, and dipped it bit by bit into the chicken soup. Halfway through her meal, she wanted a sip of water. A hand appeared beside her, and the water in the cup became perfectly warm.

The touch of the cup was pleasantly warm, although the wall of the cup was a bit thick. Fortunately, the nails forming the cup’s rim were neatly trimmed, revealing a healthy color.

After finishing the chicken soup, she packed up the thermos and stretched lazily in the sunlight.

It was a beautiful day outside, with many translucent arms floating in the air, soft like jellyfish tentacles. ‘Another calm day,’ she thought.

In the dial with blood vessels, the beautifully shaped thumb, middle finger, and pinky finger rotated leisurely. Sun Qi’an looked up at the time, and at that moment, she suddenly felt a vague sense of something strange.

Something is off.

What exactly is wrong?

Oh well, maybe it’s just the weather. Sun Qi’an patted her slightly aching head and felt quite content.

When the hour hand reached 8:50, Sun Qi’an straightened her collar and stepped out of the door.

“Shian’s inquiry.” She clasped her hands tightly. “I need to handle it seriously.”

“Yes.” Her mother—her real mother who had long passed away—wrapped her arm around her shoulder and whispered warmly in her ear. “You need to handle it seriously.”

Sun Qi’an skillfully tied up her hair, held her head high, and walked forward. On the opposite side, behind Li Nian, Gao Mengyu walked with her head slightly lowered, and the two sides coincidentally met.

Sun Qi’an blinked.

On Li Nian’s shoulder, there was also a beautiful arm at rest.

Indeed, she was just being overly anxious. The world was still functioning normally, without anything unusual.

“I actually feel pretty good.”

Once seated, Sun Qi’an smiled gently and beautifully, as always.

“Well, I haven’t encountered anything strange again, nor have I seen any abnormal arms… Maybe you should go and ask others?”

……

At this moment, Lord Ghost King was still suffering inside “Satisfaction”.

If there was a recording device on the Other Side, Yin Ren guessed he must look like a peppermint candy thrown into a carbonated drink. He was being tortured to death by these damned bubbles.

Question: In a snowy landscape, surrounded by blades from all directions with no way to dodge, what should you do?

Answer: Crouch down and protect your head.

After regaining consciousness, Yin Ren didn’t grow taller or bigger, as Qi Xin had hoped. He curled up even tighter than a startled clamshell. Unfortunately, even with less contact with the bubbles, the pain continued to assault him endlessly.

It was too painful.

An old person dreaming of endless artillery fire, a stray dog dreaming of swinging blades, a child dreaming of chasing after their abandoned parents, and a young person dreaming of holding the body of their loved one tightly. From being displaced to the death of a beloved pet, the dark emotions brewed into a pot of porridge, and each burst of a bubble was a mournful cry.

It was too joyful.

A patient dreaming of a day of recovery, a bird dreaming of a warm southern place, a parent dreaming of their deceased children, a middle-aged person dreaming of fantastical encounters that defied reality… Countless satisfactions came pouring in.

Like ice and fire, they alternated the torment. Each emotional bomb exploded on Yin Ren, leaving him bruised and battered.

He had lived hundreds of years in the human world, but here he was like an infant, forced to navigate through the minds of countless young and old souls. Billions of emotions intertwined in chaos and intensity, and he was about to be submerged and crushed by countless minds.

To withstand all this, there were precedents—either, like Zhong Chengshuo a thousand years ago, abandon all emotions, or, like Zhong Chengshuo a thousand years later, use scientific willpower to fortify oneself.

He couldn’t take the second path, but abandoning emotions…

Indeed, incomprehension and indifference may be the only solution to deal with this chaotic mess. It was like being human and not caring about the joys and sorrows of cockroaches. It was also like tender flesh festering and forming thick calluses, rendering it less susceptible to stimuli.

Yin Ren supported his shattered consciousness and suddenly felt a bit sad.

Evil being, Great Celestial Master, Evil Spirit… The cub of Fear. Stripping away the layers of shells, he was just a mortal born of his mother, a flesh-and-blood human. And his opponent was the emotional chaos that had accumulated over billions of years on the Other Side.

No wonder he always had that sense of powerlessness before. Now, completely dispelling the clouds, he truly understood that he was a mere mayfly challenging a giant tree, an insignificant force. To confront enemies far beyond human capabilities, he himself had to become something far beyond human—how fair it seemed.

But he couldn’t make that decision.

Countless dreams flashed by, so beautiful. Yet if he were to abandon the eyes that could understand them, in his eyes, they would be no different from the filthy foam that surfaced from the sewers. In the future, whether it was the life or death of the members of Unit 9, or the subtle emotions on Zhong Chengshuo’s face, it would all turn into trivial dust and no longer stir even the slightest reaction from him.

Yin Ren didn’t like that.

So should he give up? Slipping away dejectedly, resigning himself to fate, living with a sense of powerlessness?

Or should he accept everything completely? If he continued to endure this pain, not even a year, a month, or a day would pass before he lost interest in life.

It was truly maddening. When he first arrived in this era, all he wanted was to enjoy some fresh food and live one day at a time.

“I’m not used to thinking about this…” Yin Ren bitterly mumbled in his mind.

If Zhong Chengshuo were here, he might be able to come up with some fantastic ideas from a Primordial Elemental perspective. No, that wasn’t right either. That guy himself wasn’t very good at handling emotions…

Thinking of this, Yin Ren suddenly froze for a moment.

When did he initially encounter this difficult problem?

[I’m only used to thinking about how “I” can come out unscathed… This is the first time I’m attempting to think about “us”.]

When he was wrapped layer by layer by the “Attachment” Elemental inside the Corpse Cage, Zhong Chengshuo had said that.

[Yin Ren, I will come up with a more suitable solution.]

A more suitable solution.

Yin Ren’s tensed body loosened slightly.

At that time, he first alleviated his loss of control through battle, and then resolved the “Attachment”. There must have been something in that process—something he seemed to grasp…

Either give up humanity, or give up becoming stronger, or endure the pain until it drives him insane.

Why wasn’t there a fourth option?

[…Battle is the best way to release pent-up emotions…] Fragments of memories whispered in his ears.

The Elementals rarely empathized with humans, which was why there was a natural barrier. “Satisfaction” and “Fear” didn’t have brains, so naturally, they couldn’t think on this level.

Various emotions exploded in his mind, and he had always tried to deny them, to dominate them, to manipulate them. What would happen if he gave up resistance and tried to accept these emotions?

Feeling cornered, with no way out, he resorted to desperate measures, shouting for Qi Xin to save him if things didn’t go well!

Yin Ren took a deep breath in his mind and suddenly relaxed his entire body.

An old person dreaming of endless artillery fire, a stray dog dreaming of swinging blades—he squatted beside them, sobbing along with them; a child dreaming of chasing their abandoned parents, a young person dreaming of embracing the corpse of their loved ones—Yin Ren stood nearby, crying louder than them.

A patient dreaming of a day of recovery, a bird dreaming of warm southern lands—he smiled along with them; a parent dreaming of their deceased children, a middle-aged person dreaming of fantastical adventures that defied reality—he recorded these fleeting moments for them.

Yin Ren no longer put up his defenses. He traversed through unordered consciousness, not hiding his own fears and satisfactions. Truly, this was training—a perfect opportunity to temper his spirit. He even began to actively approach those dreamscapes, experiencing the various emotions of the dreamers.

At the beginning, it was indeed painful.

As a powerful Primordial Elemental, a terrifying evil, or a revered Great Celestial Master, he shouldn’t have been affected by these messy emotions. The strong seemed to be expected to trample over thorns barefoot and carve out a path drenched in blood.

But as a mortal, Yin Ren allowed himself to be defeated, tormented, and submerged in the countless ups and downs of human existence. He cried when he felt sad and laughed when he felt happy. Anyway, his skin was thick enough—why not indulge in love, hatred, passion, joy, sorrow, and separation for a while?

He insisted on enduring it.

Gradually, the dam that Yin Ren had built so frantically began to crumble. The water no longer turbulently muddied but instead flowed gradually and gently, forming several clear streams. After an unknown time, the pain brought by great joys and sorrows became more bearable.

Yin Ren closed the eyes of the old person, held the hand of the child, and touched the soft fur of animals. Life in all its diversity, all living beings—that was all there was to it. Having seen so much and understood so deeply, he allowed himself to freely express joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, as they were nothing major.

Negative emotions could still circulate within him, but he could now accept satisfaction with ease.

Countless illusions brushed by, and in the end, Yin Ren discovered that he was immersed in many bubbles. They only left him with a very small stinging sensation, just like a hug from Zhong Chengshuo.

Those emotions continued to surge, but they no longer engaged in a tug-of-war with him; they swiftly passed through him, like a breeze from the unknown.

He had won.

He didn’t know if this counted as passing, but he knew for sure that he had definitely grown a bit.

Yin Ren stretched himself out triumphantly; with “Satisfaction” being so big, why not expand himself to the fullest? He didn’t know if Qi Xin was watching, but he hoped to annoy her.

He kept stretching, even with fear and caution, still displaying a righteous and confident attitude like a fearless calf not afraid of tigers. He felt as if he had been released from a vacuum-sealed package, ready to expand to the ends of the earth.

Finally, “Satisfaction” seemed to notice something.

Like any undigested organism, countless bubbles separated, and countless vortices merged, forming a large mouth with tremendous suction force. Before Yin Ren could react, he was cruelly vomited out.

He lay sprawled on the tunnel of the Other Side, flapping his wings in dissatisfaction. At this moment, those clusters of wings had turned pitch black, with intricate and obscure patterns swirling within them, resembling Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes.

Yin Ren deliberately grew an eyeball and solemnly examined himself for a while.

New, not bad.

Unfortunately, Ms. Qi Xin’s thoughts clearly went against his.

Qi Xin had followed him throughout the whole process, and now she was floating above the wriggling Yin Ren on the ground, with a face even longer than “Love’s” arms.

Before Yin Ren could open his mouth to speak to her, Qi Xin descended slowly. Her hands scooped up two clusters of wings with a casual gesture, as if she was a customer buying cabbage in a vegetable market. She looked at the flapping soft wings on the ground and her eyes filled with strong disbelief—normally, this great Elemental rarely displayed such intense emotions.

First, she directly infused a state of sorrow.

Yin Ren smoothly accepted it, allowing tears to flow from the small wings nestled at the bottom. He remained expressionless—now he had become a mature Primordial Elemental that could embrace joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness while retaining his rationality. He wouldn’t be shaken by such tricks.

Seeing that Yin Ren didn’t struggle or collapse, Qi Xin quickly plucked off a small wing and chewed on it.

Yin Ren: “?”

How could she start eating them? Did she really think they wouldn’t fight each other?

“Wrong.”

Qi Xin grabbed her hair with her fingers, messing up her previously neat bun.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong—! There’s no taste of Fear! Why is there no taste of Fear?”

……

Qi Xin did witness the whole process.

At first, when she saw Yin Ren stretching his body, she was delighted—this guy had finally figured it out. As the saying went, “It’s survival of the fittest, and if you want to protect yourself, strength is the most precious thing.”

But Yin Ren’s reaction gradually became somewhat strange.

During those long days and nights, he began rolling around, making contact with those bubbles, and diving into whichever dream was more abundant. In the end, that black mass floated and swayed within the bubbles, even emitting a sense of contentment.

The “Fear” she knew didn’t behave like this!

“Fear” should be more silent, colder, like the night in the human world. Long ago, when Qi Xin discovered that Yin Ren possessed the power that annihilated the Primordial Elementals, she was certain that he was the “Fear” cub she had been seeking.

Even if his birth was a bit problematic and his form was strange and peculiar; even if he had too much humanity… a cub was a cub. It was just a matter of training. After all, no one knew what Old Fear looked like when it was young. When the cub grew up, everything would fall back into place.

But now she wasn’t sure anymore.

Yin Ren’s state was indeed that of a mature Primordial Elemental. He stretched his body, exuding a depth that seemed bottomless, but his form didn’t resemble “Fear” at all.

Old Fear was pure blackness. It didn’t have the flapping black wings on the ground, nor the delicate and slightly dazzling thin red veil that gently floated above the wings. It danced gracefully, never ceasing, with its wings fluttering gently.

Swish, swish.

The “Primordial Elemental” in front of her was undoubtedly warm.

“…Yin Ren, what exactly are you?”

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