Lin Chen lay on the hospital bed, seemingly deep asleep or in a semi-comatose state.
Xing Conglian wrapped his arm around Lin Chen’s waist, with one hand encircling his side and the other holding onto his lower back. Delicate sweat covered Lin Chen’s skin from his neck to his shoulders. They pressed tightly against each other; their touch was sticky, damp, and warm, giving a real feeling.
Equally real were the scents of sweat, blood, and the air.
Xing Conglian pushed aside strands of Lin Chen’s black hair and leaned over, resting his chin in the crook of Lin Chen’s neck. He kissed Lin Chen’s cheek repeatedly, from behind his ear to his temples, from his neck to the crown of his head. Honestly, neither of them had taken a shower today, so the scent wasn’t pleasant, but this messy imperfection made it feel real.
Xing Conglian inexplicably thought of the time he cried in despair for the first time in his memory.
He couldn’t remember the exact cause of the specific event, but the underlying reason was that his parents felt that he needed to separate from the stuffed duck toy he had been hugging since childhood.
Because that duck was dirty and old, with exposed cotton and many repairs.
But he felt that he could only feel safe when he hugged that dirty and worn-out duck while sleeping.
For this reason, his parents read many books on child attachment, tried numerous methods mentioned in those books, and even took him to see a psychologist, but no method could solve his attachment to a tattered duck.
As time went by, one day, probably due to him beating up a classmate or some similar reason, his father couldn’t bear it anymore and made him throw away the duck.
Of course, there was no direct connection, but for angry parents, finding the most crucial thing to punish their son was essential.
It was a very dim evening when his father took him directly to the lakeside, with his mother present as well. They rowed to the center of the lake, with his mother holding him while his father smashed the duck into the water.
That was an utterly heart-wrenching scene for him. The autumn and winter cold winds, the blue and gloomy lake water, and his beloved possession gradually sank into the water. He still remembered every ripple of the water at that moment.
Losing a sense of security was extremely painful for every child, especially when it came to their most beloved toy. At that time, he almost wished to jump into the river together with the duck. If it weren’t for his mother holding him, he might have died right there.
What was even more extreme was that when they returned to the shore, his father slapped him and told him things like:
“You will have many things and people you love in your life, but one day they will all leave!”
“Even your parents will die, so you must learn to take responsibility for your mistakes!”
“Besides yourself, you cannot depend on anything or anyone!”
His father said many similar randomly stitched-together words, forcefully trying to educate him. For a six- or seven-year-old child, it was like a profound philosophical question. He grabbed at his runny nose and tears, not understanding any of it, only feeling pain. For a long period of time afterward, he was immersed in this pain.
Recovery was very slow, but eventually, he did recover. His father later apologized for his outburst, and his mother said she had wanted to do it a long time ago.
He later told Lin Chen about this incident. At that time, they weren’t in a romantic relationship yet, so of course, he wanted to hear Consultant Lin’s advice to untie his emotional knot or provide a proper psychological analysis of the matter.
However, Lin Chen remained silent for a long time and finally said that there aren’t so many explanations in the world, but for the human mind, growth was always accompanied by pain.
This was Lin Chen’s consistent theory. Sweetness made people numb; only pain gave a sense of reality.
Actually, Xing Conglian had long felt that he didn’t need to grow anymore. After all, he was retired, and society shouldn’t demand too much from senior citizens.
But now, as he recalled Lin Chen’s words, he couldn’t help but hold the person in his arms tighter.
Just a moment ago, after enjoying the long-lasting sweetness and happiness of love, he finally experienced the unbearable pain that ordinary people endure.
The pain of separation, the pain of understanding, and even enlightenment all carried a sense of pain.
But all the intolerable experiences were also constantly expanding the boundaries of the mind. This matter had no meaning, yet it was full of meaning. Xing Conglian thought that if Lin Chen were awake and they were chatting, Consultant Lin would surely educate him like this. It would be dull, scholarly, and clear-headed, making him unable to resist the urge to kiss him.
Xing Conglian kissed Lin Chen’s dry and cracked lips, which still had a hint of a bloody smell. He got up and began to dress Lin Chen.
Lin Chen obediently acted like a puppet. Xing Conglian hugged him and couldn’t help but laugh helplessly and self-mockingly. In reality, there weren’t so many twisted and absurd theories. All those soul-healing words were meant to give a glimmer of hope to those in despair.
It was difficult to keep going, but they had to keep going.
……
Late at night, taxi driver Xiao Zhang received a strange request outside the Tzu Chi Hospital.
The passenger stood by the roadside, and only after getting into the car did he mention that he wanted to go to the seaside in the neighboring province.
For any driver, hearing this kind of long-distance trip would initially bring joy, but the second thought was often to decline.
Long-distance meant high income, but encountering a situation where a man was holding onto another person in front of a psychiatric hospital was definitely abnormal.
However, Xiao Zhang made the mistake of letting the passenger get in the car first before asking for the destination. The time difference gave the passenger an opportunity to quote a price, and the down payment alone was enough to make Xiao Zhang unable to refuse.
After all, being in the taxi business, one saw and experienced a lot. Without courage, one couldn’t drive the night roads. Xiao Zhang took the money and made up his mind that if the passenger mentioned any remote side road, he would absolutely refuse.
But throughout the journey, the person in the back seat didn’t cause any trouble. Besides providing the address, the man with a buzz cut seemed immersed in his own world, dark and withdrawn. He would occasionally lean down to kiss the person in his arms, and other times he would gaze out of the window aimlessly. His eyes carried a hidden worry, uncertainty, and an inexplicable sense of composure.
The night grew darker, and the number of vehicles decreased.
Xiao Zhang even had a momentary suspicion that the person the man was holding in his arms might be a corpse, as the wrapped figure in the blanket hardly moved.
But he was also very aware of the faint and painful sounds coming from the backseat, unable to discern whether they were from a man or a woman. The sounds were desperate, like the alternative music that would only be played on late-night radio. Whenever the person in the man’s arms began to struggle, he would hold them close, almost helplessly comforting them with kisses. Apart from that, it seemed like there was nothing else he could do.
The eerie situation in the backseat continued throughout the journey.
When they exited the expressway and arrived in Louhai City, Xiao Zhang even considered whether it would be better to stop the taxi directly in front of the police station. However, as they passed by the police station, the man in the backseat seemed to have anticipated his intention and showed him his police badge.
In that instant, when Xiao Zhang saw the badge, the tension he had been feeling throughout the journey finally eased. The police always gave people a sense of security and could explain any strange and silent phenomena.
He couldn’t help but initiate a conversation with the person in the backseat, asking why they were traveling late at night and not using an official vehicle.
“It’s none of your concern.”
That was how the gentleman in the backseat answered, cool as ever.
Xiao Zhang rolled down the window. On one side was the pitch-black sea, while on the other side were various dazzling resort hotels. He blew a whistle, carried by the sea breeze.
But suddenly, he heard a deep voice from the backseat say, “Please close the window.”
Instinctively, he glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed that the blanket in the backseat was fluttering in the night breeze. Taking this opportunity, he finally saw the person the police officer had been holding all along—it was a man.
Xiao Zhang almost wanted to whistle again. He had transported a mentally ill person from the entrance of a psychiatric hospital to the seaside, traversing hundreds of kilometers. The experiences of a night shift taxi driver were truly rich, and he might even encounter some melodramatic stories like lovers jumping off cliffs. Should he save them or not when that time comes?
Bored, Xiao Zhang thought to himself. Following the navigation instructions, he made several turns and finally arrived in an area without even streetlights. The sound of the wind became more vast, covering the sound of the waves. Besides the narrow strip of road illuminated by his headlights, he could see almost nothing.
But based on his assumptions, this couldn’t be considered a remote side road because there wasn’t even a road here.
Xiao Zhang couldn’t help but turn around and say, “Sir, this road is too secluded. Are you sure you want to continue? I’m afraid I’ll run out of gas.”
The other person seemed to instantly understand what he was thinking and simply said, “Don’t worry, we can refuel once we reach our destination.”
Who knows which gas station will be found in the middle of nowhere! But turning back would be too timid. Xiao Zhang could only grit his teeth and continue.
After driving for a while, Xiao Zhang suddenly realized that his phone’s navigation hadn’t made a sound for a long time.
Feeling a chill run down his spine, he looked down and saw that there was no signal in the top right corner of his phone. He inwardly cursed his luck. It seemed like his calls to heaven went unanswered, and his calls to earth were ineffective.
Xiao Zhang broke out in a cold sweat and said, “Sir, I have a family to support. Is there something you can’t figure out…”
Before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted.
“Up ahead is a sanatorium,” the gentleman in the backseat said. “It’s quite special and has corresponding security measures, so the cellphone signal in this area is blocked.”
Xiao Zhang was dumbfounded. “T-This… It must be at a high-level, right?” After speaking, he felt that something was off. Who would just reveal the location of a classified place right away? It didn’t match the scenes depicted on TV. So, he thought carefully and attempted to test the waters. “Can I still go back home? Will I be…”
The gentleman in the backseat furrowed his brow. Xiao Zhang also felt that his question was quite nonsensical, but the other person still maintained composure and patiently answered, “No, you won’t.”
Though it was only a short reply, the solemn tone made Xiao Zhang feel much more at ease. The tension that had been gripping his mind loosened. After holding back his talent for chattering as a taxi driver throughout the entire trip, he stepped on the gas pedal, took out a cigarette, and tucked one behind his ear as well. He didn’t dare to light it, afraid that the person in the backseat wouldn’t like it. “You really scared me, traveling so late at night. Are you taking your loved one for medical treatment? What happened? Is that place like the ones in novels with renowned traditional Chinese medicine experts?”
He glanced at the rearview mirror. The gentleman in the backseat shook his head, denying his speculation. Then, he naturally extended his hand toward Xiao Zhang. Instinctively, Xiao Zhang handed over the cigarette tucked behind his ear before he worried that the other person might find it distasteful.
But the gentleman didn’t mind at all and lit the cigarette himself.
The flickering spark illuminated the man’s profile, making him appear incredibly desolate. Xiao Zhang noticed that his other hand remained tightly gripping the blanket, causing his knuckles to turn white and even tremble.
“So why are you going there?” Xiao Zhang repeated the question from earlier.
Xing Conglian was snapped back to reality by a tap, emerging from his jumbled and confused memories.
He lowered his head and heard the doctor say, “The second treatment option involves a large dosage of chloropromazine. However, this type of medication for psychiatric disorders may affect brain or cardiac functions, and the side effects are quite apparent. Nevertheless, it is one of the most effective medications for addressing similar issues…”
He couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, probably because Lin Chen was whispering in the ward, babbling all sorts of incoherent words.
Xing Conglian carefully tried to discern what he was saying, but the air was too quiet. The fragmented and muffled voice seemed to fill the entire space like cotton, perhaps saying “don’t hit” or “please”. These voices, laden with pain, became increasingly oppressive, causing turmoil within him.
“…Consultant Lin didn’t reject this treatment option…”
Those crucial words brought him back to his senses once again. Yes, after they had finished their conversation, Lin Chen had explicitly requested to be treated at the Tzu Chi Hospital and had even selected a former professor at his university as the attending physician.
Lin Chen, like an outsider, swiftly discussed each treatment plan and detail with the doctor. He even chose a specialized department and room specifically for patients with schizophrenia, as he was an expert in that field.
However, Xing Conglian couldn’t comprehend how, in such a moment, Lin Chen could still handle everything so clearly, as if nothing was amiss.
He rubbed his face, forcing himself not to look into the ward or listen to Lin Chen’s voice. He asked the doctor, “You are the doctor. I want to hear your opinion.”
“After all, this is a new type of drug, and there is no literature available. Although it is indeed possible to proceed with the initial treatment plan as a trial, it is also undoubtedly risky. Honestly, I think we can wait a few more days, collect treatment plans from other cases, and then make a judgment.”
Xing Conglian interrupted the doctor, saying, “He wants to regain consciousness quickly. He must regain consciousness.”
The doctor’s face clearly displayed a fleeting expression of disappointment, but it was very subtle, quickly fading away. After all, this was a hospital specializing in the treatment of mental disorders, and the doctors were accustomed to dealing with harsh and demanding family members. Xing Conglian self-deprecatingly thought that he was merely an ordinary, harsh boss hoping for his subordinates to recover quickly and get back to work.
But what else could he do? Lin Chen had made it clear that he wanted to receive treatment like any other person. He had also said, “Remember to come and visit me,” hoping that Xing Conglian would urge the doctor to treat him.
At this moment, Xing Conglian finally realized that when it came to any decision made by Lin Chen, he had only one path to take—to accept and support it.
Because Lin Chen was always so clear, so correct, so exceptional, and always selflessly throwing himself into every situation, leaving others unable to resist.
That was the Lin Chen he loved.
Yet, a profound sense of disappointment and frustration overwhelmed him once again. Even though there were people around him speaking all the time, Xing Conglian felt as if he stood in a dark and desolate world. The frigid wind howled around him, making him feel more isolated than ever.
He took a deep breath, unsure of what to do. Lin Chen was inside, and he was outside. They were so close, yet it felt like an infinite distance separated them.
Just then, his phone rang.
He hadn’t put it on silent, so when the piano melody played in the cramped space, he even felt a sense of relief.
When one was lost and bewildered, something always reached out with an olive branch to save you, like work.
Xing Conglian apologized to the doctor and retreated to a dim corner, leaning against the wall as he answered the call.
Huang Ze’s voice came through. “Xing Conglian, why did Su Fengzi come here?”
He hadn’t expected Huang Ze to sound annoyed, even slightly fearful. There were sounds of someone smashing a glass in the background. Ultimately, such “power struggles” were no different from quarrels among children, with the expected anger and irrationality.
“He came because he wanted to. I can’t control him,” Xing Conglian replied.
“Do you know what he’s up to?” Huang Ze was furious. “He has no official position, but he’s forcing himself into the investigation!”
Huang Ze, as always, emphasized procedural justice.
“Well, you can just arrest him,” Xing Conglian said casually.
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and Xing Conglian frowned. The next moment, a very casual and cheerful voice came through the phone. “Lao Xing, how’s my shidi doing?”
Xing Conglian raised his eyelids and looked at the ward not far away. The doctor was administering new treatment medication to Lin Chen. The busy figures appeared hazy and ethereal, as if veiled in a layer of black gauze.
“He’s temporarily stable,” he replied.
Su Fengzi didn’t ask any further questions but changed the subject. “Since that’s the case, there’s something interesting happening at Zhourui’s place. Do you want to join?”
Xing Conglian instinctively wanted to refuse Su Fengzi.
He believed that he should be sitting outside the ward, going through this difficult time with Lin Chen, as Lin Chen had suggested, as any considerate lover would do.
But his rationality told him very clearly that he should leave. Staying would just torment the both of them. After all, his love was still too short-lived, and this torment would continue to erode the love between them.
Outside the hospital, the night was silent and still. Xing Conglian hung up the phone, took out his car keys, and walked away.
……
The car window was rolled down low, and the darkness of the night rushed in.
With one hand on the steering wheel, Xing Conglian held a cigarette in the other.
The sparks flickered.
Around eight or nine o’clock was another peak hour in the city, and the main roads were still crowded with vehicles. Neon lights outside the window surged like a tide, gliding across the car body.
He turned on the car radio, keeping the volume low. The radio host didn’t mention anything related to the case anymore; nighttime radio shows mostly played emotional songs.
The female host’s affectionate words flowed out, but due to the noise of passing traffic outside, Xing Conglian couldn’t clearly hear what she was saying. It was probably something along the lines of “he loves her, but she doesn’t love him,” a content he had never heard before.
It was only then that Xing Conglian recalled why he had rarely listened to similar emotional midnight radio programs in the past.
When Lin Chen wasn’t around, he sneered at these sentimental programs. Honestly, deep down, he never believed that he could have such a beautiful love. Whether it was due to pride or loneliness, he, a person who inherently rejected many things in the world, believed that ending up lonely was the most suitable outcome for himself.
Now, looking back, he realized how foolish that self-set image of a solitary hero was, because he had met Lin Chen.
After getting to know Lin Chen, the passenger seat had always belonged to him.
Lin Chen didn’t talk much, but their casual conversations were more soothing to Xing Conglian than the mellow jazz music in the night.
In his memory, there was a time when they returned from a business trip, driving through the night.
In the early morning hours, even the night traffic on the highway had become sparse. Wang Chao was snoring in the back seat while Lin Chen, wearing a seatbelt, nestled in his seat, exhausted but still chatting with him.
Both of them were tired, but they would lightly and cheerfully discuss the scenery of the city they had just passed, reflect on touching details from the meetings, and occasionally mention a broken light bulb at home that needed to be replaced when they returned.
He couldn’t remember the specific details anymore, but he remembered that they had talked a lot. It was all because Lin Chen was afraid that he would get drowsy while driving, so he kept talking.
Those voices, relaxed and comfortable, accompanied by yawns and sleepiness, kept sounding, both ordinary and considerate. Now, with those voices suddenly gone by his side, Xing Conglian felt a disturbing emptiness in the car. Unconsciously, he unbuttoned his shirt collar and rolled down the car window to the lowest point.
The night breeze flowed into the car, and memories of that journey resurfaced in Xing Conglian’s mind.
Later, they drove into a rest area. Xing Conglian smoked in the parking lot while Lin Chen went to buy two cups of hot coffee. The highway rest stops rarely had freshly ground black coffee, so it was mostly instant coffee.
There were only a few trucks in the surrounding parking lot, and the stars in the night sky were bright and brilliant. Lin Chen came back holding two steaming paper cups, handing one to him.
The coffee had a layer of foam on top, and the liquid was rich and flavorful. Some steam dispersed into the air, much like the gaze Lin Chen had on him at that time.
They both took a sip of coffee without saying a word, gazing at the velvety night sky. Perhaps they felt warmth and tranquility in each other’s presence, so neither of them spoke.
Xing Conglian couldn’t help but glance at the passenger seat. He always felt like he could still see Lin Chen’s lower lip stained with coffee, carrying a sweet scent, and his eyes gleaming brightly.
It was in that moment that Xing Conglian suddenly realized that whenever he drove at night, Lin Chen hardly ever slept. Those words and coffee, hot tea, and the waiting while he smoked—they were the most ordinary yet extraordinary companionship.
He hadn’t been aware of this before, and now that he had suddenly lost it, he realized how terrifying habits could be, making his whole body tremble.
Xing Conglian felt panic once again. He picked up his phone and started scrolling through his contacts without any specific purpose, trying to distract himself from the memories by focusing on work.
But before he could find someone to talk to, he received a call from Guanghua Chemicals.
Wang Chao sounded excited because Xiao Zhan had made some progress in the drug research.
As Xing Conglian answered the call, Wang Chao spoke a lot, using lengthy technical terms. Xing Conglian didn’t have the mental capacity to listen to them, but in order to avoid thinking about Lin Chen randomly, he forced himself to take note of the contents and repeatedly confirm his understanding.
This phone call consumed the duration of about seven or eight traffic lights. If it weren’t for Wang Chao asking at the end, “How is A’Chen Gege doing?” Xing Conglian might have truly escaped from his memories.
However, his efforts had clearly failed. Lin Chen was right—there was so much work, and he couldn’t finish it all in his lifetime.
He hung up the phone and turned up the volume of the car radio.
The ambient sound reverberated loudly, yet he felt the car cabin becoming even quieter.
Lin Chen was good to Wang Chao, not because he had a secret crush on him or was influenced by a herd mentality. Xing Conglian was well aware of this, just like with the chubby kid who introduced them. Lin Chen had a strong protective instinct toward these innocent beings.
They had also discussed Wang Chao’s education when he couldn’t hear them.
In the face of Lin Chen, Xing Conglian had asked him in confusion whether Wang Chao was too naive, as his mental age seemed too childish.
At that time, Lin Chen furrowed his brows, deep in thought, and didn’t immediately answer his question.
Xing Conglian thought that perhaps Lin Chen was reluctant to criticize him directly. But maybe it was a few hours later, deep into the night, when Lin Chen handed him a book titled <The Psychology of Abnormal Children>.
The book was filled with various colored tabs, and many paragraphs inside were marked with special annotations.
They sat by the window, and Lin Chen flipped through the book page by page, explaining about gifted children and teaching him to understand the concept of mental age, among other related topics. Like a devoted scholar, he was both serious and adorable.
The desk lamp cast a dim yellow light, the spring breeze was gentle, and the reflection of the river water fell on Lin Chen’s face. Xing Conglian wondered if, at that moment, he had already developed feelings for Lin Chen without even realizing it.
He kept thinking and thinking, his mouth dry and tongue parched, only to realize that the cigarette in his hand had burned out without him noticing. There was a pile of scattered cigarette ash on his pants.
He flicked away the cigarette butt and thought of lighting another one, but just as the traffic light turned green, he happened to turn into a small road sandwiched between residential areas.
Many of the shops on both sides had already closed, but the late-night snack shops had just opened.
This place was very close to their home. Countless mornings, he and Lin Chen had come here side by side to have breakfast.
Their shared memories were as pervasive as the morning mist permeating the South.
Lin Chen always knew where to find the best breakfast spots, even though he loved to sleep in. Every once in a while, in the early morning, he would wake Xing Conglian up without being so considerate.
They would traverse through bustling streets and alleys, arriving at lively markets, joining the old men and women who had risen early to wait for soy milk or buy noodle soup.
For example, on Nanlin Street, there were the best buns in the entire Hongjing. Lin Chen liked the rose bean paste ones, while Xing Conglian preferred curry beef. They would each buy two and eat them as they walked.
On the side of the road, there were camphor trees with a light fragrance, and the river flowed gently through the shops along the street. Near the end of the street, wooden signs advertising houses for rent would hang from the trees—all of these images appeared vividly in his mind.
At that time, he thought it was normal for good friends to walk together to find breakfast. Now, he realized how foolish he had been.
Why did Lin Chen always know where to find delicious food? Why didn’t Lin Chen call Wang Chao? And why, no matter how far the distance, was Lin Chen willing to walk with him rather than take a car?
The answers to these questions made Xing Conglian’s heart ache with bittersweetness.
It was because Lin Chen loved him and just wanted to spend a little more time with him; that was all.
Xing Conglian dared not smoke. He even felt that any movement would shatter the scene before his eyes.
Lin Chen didn’t like spicy food but was willing to accompany him to eat spicy crayfish. Lin Chen had a good daily routine and disliked staying up late, yet he would stay up all night with him to watch soccer matches. Lin Chen always reminded him to fasten his seatbelt, and when Xing Conglian was parched and didn’t even notice it himself, Lin Chen would hand him a bottle of water with the cap already unscrewed…
All these details were too vivid and apparent. He enjoyed the love and care that went beyond friendship, but he remained completely unaware, like a complete fool.
The Zhourui Building was now within reach, but Xing Conglian felt that he couldn’t continue thinking any further. Otherwise, he would definitely abandon everything and turn the car around to rush back to Lin Chen’s side.
He stubbed out the cigarette and found a parking spot by the side of the road, deciding to walk.
The night in the bustling city was also coming to an end.
Milk tea shops were closing, bakeries displayed signs with an 80% discount on all items, and bus stops were crowded with couples.
He was surrounded by pedestrians preparing to return home; the flow of people bustled and supported each other. Under the bright neon lights of the shops, every face wore an expression of exhaustion and happiness, radiant and lively.
Xing Conglian walked forward with his hands in his pockets, constantly brushing shoulders with countless couples.
Girls coquettishly hooked their arms around boys, boys hugged girls and kissed them, and close friends bantered with each other. People talked about various topics—clothes, shoes, work, loved ones. The cacophony of voices filled the entire night, but Lin Chen’s voice was absent.
He received another phone call. His subordinate was reporting the latest progress on the drug investigation. Zhourui Pharmaceutical refused to cooperate, and they couldn’t find any breakthroughs for the time being.
Xing Conglian responded half-heartedly, informing the person that he would be there soon.
But in that instant, as he looked around, he suddenly realized that the entire world had lost its colors. Loneliness had penetrated his bones, and it was terrifying.
He even felt that no matter how much Lin Chen loved him, he might not be able to endure a similar moment again. It was too bleak, too lonely, too unbearable. He felt like a patient going through withdrawal, losing the meaning of life.
He reached into his pocket and found that the cigarette box was empty. He was forced to walk to a small cigarette stall on the street.
An old man opened a trunk under a streetlamp, displaying various kinds of cigarettes. The dim light from the streetlamp scattered down, casting everything in a dull yellow hue.
He squatted down to choose a cigarette, with couples beside him selecting jewelry. The girl was sweet-looking, and the boy appeared to be an athletic type, tall and handsome, the kind who never lacked attention from girls.
The boy questioned why the girl made him wait for so long, and the girl replied that she had to wait for her parents to fall asleep and finish applying makeup before sneaking out.
“I love you no matter how you look,” the boy said, lowering his head.
“Without colored contacts or false eyelashes, you wouldn’t like me,” the girl responded cheerfully.
Xing Conglian couldn’t help but turn his head. The girl beside him had glamorous makeup, long eyelashes, and her eyes seemed to shine in the darkness.
Perhaps he had been staring for a bit too long. The girl pointed at him and said to the boy, “See?”
“You don’t trust me.”
“It’s not about trust, but my own vanity. I want to appear beautiful in front of you every day.”
Xing Conglian averted his gaze, feeling that such a conversation would never occur between him and Lin Chen.
Lin Chen always tolerated and cared for him like a polite stranger. What was happening around him was what normal conversations between couples would sound like.
He didn’t want to listen any further, so he picked up a cigarette, asked for the price, and started to take out money.
The boy was still concerned about the issue of makeup and asked the girl, “So, if you’re sick, can’t I come and take care of you? What if you get old and take medication that drives you crazy?”
“Even if I’m sick, I’ll still put on makeup. If I get old, I’ll just die. If I take medication that turns me into a lunatic, you better not come see me. The farther away you stay, the better!”
The girl stomped her feet, frustrated, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
Xing Conglian’s hand, in the process of receiving change, froze. He looked at the old man’s withered fingers, feeling as if his whole body had turned to stone.
“You’re not allowed to come see me.” The girl beside him had said those words. What about Lin Chen? How would Lin Chen say it?
Xing Conglian felt as if he had returned to the ambulance. It was already dark outside, and Lin Chen’s face was blurry in the evening sun, but his voice was firm and gentle.
Lin Chen said, “You have to walk with me.” He said, “You need to focus on your work and solve the problems.” He also said, “You have to remember to come see me.”
He kept recalling every word Lin Chen said, over and over again. That incomprehensible feeling, that sense that something was off, resurfaced, like the immense shadow of an iceberg beneath the water’s surface, suffocating.
It wasn’t the girl saying, “You’re not allowed to come see me,” but rather, “You have to remember to come see me”…
Xing Conglian finally understood what was wrong with that statement.
He had always been aware of Lin Chen’s love for him. When Lin Chen kissed him, he loved him. When Lin Chen was gravely ill, he loved him. Even when Lin Chen chose to inject Shen Lian’s medication, he still loved him…
But the depth of love was too difficult to measure. He used to think it was deep affection and love that he couldn’t repay.
Yet in this moment, under this ordinary streetlamp, as he listened to the most ordinary story of a couple, he suddenly realized just how profound Lin Chen’s love for him truly was, like a roaring wave crashing down upon him.
There was a time when he felt a ringing in his ears, and Lin Chen’s voice kept echoing in his mind.
If he were to turn into a crazed, inhuman figure, the first thing he would do is drive Lin Chen away, refusing to appear before his loved one in such an ugly state.
And yet, Lin Chen cared too much for him. Even in such moments, Lin Chen would restrain his instinctive fear of exposing his own ugliness, carefully considering how to better support him. Not pushing him away, but finding ways to mentally support him during the remaining time they had together.
Lin Chen wanted him to be better, to give him hope. That’s why he appeared so incredibly strong. Lin Chen chose treatment plans solely aiming to make him less miserable. Lin Chen was even willing to completely expose his own flaws in front of him, dignity becoming completely irrelevant.
All of this was because in Lin Chen’s mind, his feelings were more important.
But how was that possible? It was Lin Chen, and how could dignity not be important?
This kind of intelligence, rationality, and care, even striving to become stronger for him in his most vulnerable moments, made Lin Chen completely irresistible. Xing Conglian stood under the streetlamp, going insane as he rushed towards his car.
At that time, Lin Chen’s gaze was too tender and affectionate, softer than the fading red glow on the horizon. He couldn’t see the fear, the unease, and the overwhelming love hidden within it. He only felt that Lin Chen was too rational, too clear-headed. He felt abandoned, he felt too lonely, so he overlooked that simple and ordinary statement.
His oversight was only natural because Lin Chen had always loved him like this. Lin Chen tried to do his best, while he simply immersed himself in it, enjoying it as a matter of course.
But how many things in the world could be taken for granted?
Xing Conglian stood in place for a long time, his ears buzzing as everything rushed past him. It wasn’t until the silhouette of that young couple completely disappeared under the streetlamp that he snapped back to reality, crazily rushing back along the same road he came.
Against the flow of people, pushing through the crowd, his hands trembling like never before. He even struggled to insert the key into the car’s ignition.
He ended the call, stepping on the gas pedal like a madman, only hoping that he hadn’t left that hospital ward.
The night had become pitch black. He had turned into a frantic, irrational beast. Everything about Lin Chen filled the space around him, and apart from running wildly, he saw no way out.
As vehicles raced on the streets, he ran down the corridor as countless frames of images roared past him.
Lin Chen laughing, Lin Chen crying, Lin Chen speaking, Lin Chen walking, Lin Chen handing him documents, Lin Chen walking out the door, Lin Chen hugging him and saying “thank you”, Lin Chen holding his hand and saying “I love you”…
The simplest scenes were the most unforgettable, resurfacing from the depths of his memory, compressing time and space infinitely.
He locked the door, turned off the lights, and pulled down the curtain. When he realized what he was doing, he was already standing in front of the hospital bed, and everything came to a sudden stop.
All the sights in the world receded like the tide, leaving only the solitary bed in space.
The surroundings were extremely dark, with moonlight slanting through the window, like drifting snow, about to bury the person on the bed completely.
Xing Conglian vaguely saw the familiar face, but at the same time, he felt like he didn’t recognize the person at all. He wanted to reach out, but he was like a person trapped in a nightmare, using all his strength but unable to move.
Time passed aimlessly until a faint, unconscious moan cracked the frozen space.
Xing Conglian looked at the hospital bed again, finally seeing Lin Chen clearly.
Lin Chen was in a dazed state, unable to speak clearly due to the medication’s side effects. His throat was swollen, and saliva even dribbled down from the corner of his mouth. He looked nothing like the clear-headed and composed person before.
Xing Conglian tried to move his fingers, recovering some control, but this recovery made his heart ache to the extreme.
“Why are you treating me like this?”
Xing Conglian’s heart painfully ached and the pain made him climb onto the bed without hesitation. He bit Lin Chen’s neck and with his other hand untied Lin Chen’s restraint.
The person on the bed soon struggled, as if wanting to beat him, even kill him. But Xing Conglian would rather have Lin Chen kill him. Dying together would be the best relief.
He forcibly pulled Lin Chen’s hands over his head and tied him tightly to the iron frame at the head of the bed.
Lin Chen’s upper body contorted in pain, but Xing Conglian felt it wasn’t enough, so he forcibly pulled down Lin Chen’s hospital trousers and underwear. He untied one after another of the white restraints that bound Lin Chen. Lin Chen’s instincts made him struggle frantically, like a true psychiatric patient.
Xing Conglian pulled Lin Chen’s underwear to his legs, and it pressed against Lin Chen’s ankles. He knew that there was no point in suppressing a madman except by pure force.
Lin Chen’s whining filled the space. Xing Conglian finally untied the bound around Lin Chen’s mouth, tore off his shirt, and kissed him vigorously.
Lin Chen was biting wildly causing their teeth to collide, which made the pain all the more unbearable. This chaos was too wild that it didn’t look like a kiss at all.
“Get… Get away!”
Lin Chen shouted with a slurred voice. His body became hot under Xing Conglian.
“Who do you want to get away?” Xing Conglian leaned in close to Lin Chen’s ear and took off his pants. He raised his voice and asked again, “Who am I? Who do you want to get away?”
“Get… Get away!” Lin Chen could only utter incoherent syllables.
Xing Conglian felt like he had completely turned into a madman himself, trying to find a definite answer in this irrational world. “Who am I? Why do you want me to get away?”
Lin Chen trembled all over, reciting mechanically in a tone buried deep in his mind that he dared not forget: “Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian…”
He pressed his penis against Lin Chen’s and grinded twice. Both of them were hot and hard.
Lin Chen trembled all over and mechanically yet in a tone that was buried deep in his mind that he didn’t dare forget, said, “Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian…”
Clear and distinct words came from Lin Chen’s mouth, each one choking Xing Conglian up. He didn’t understand the mind and brain, didn’t comprehend the human soul. He had no idea how important he was to Lin Chen, to the point where even in the depths of Lin Chen’s mental chaos, he couldn’t forget his name.
Xing Conglian reached toward the head of the bed and grabbed the cream used to help heal the wounds on Lin Chen’s body. He indiscriminately squeezed it on his finger and forcibly inserted it into Lin Chen’s hole.
Lin Chen was in intense pain. His body was tensed up, and his head kept shaking. He heard Lin Chen say, “Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian, get away…”
Xing Conglian knew that he couldn’t leave now. He had a question that he must ask, an answer that was heart-wrenching, but he had to get that answer.
He couldn’t even bring himself to look into Lin Chen’s eyes. Once again, he forcefully held onto Lin Chen and leaned in close, speaking in the coldest and most ruthless tone, “With me, you can be willful, selfish, unreasonable. I would even die with you if you didn’t want to live anymore. I just need you to answer my question, just tell me the truth.” He spoke, but soon he couldn’t hold on any longer and his voice choked. “Please, tell me the truth.”
It seemed that his pleading had worked, or perhaps it was the tears falling on Lin Chen’s face that truly brought him back to clarity.
Lin Chen’s movements came to a halt as he looked at him in confusion.
“What do you think of me?” He pressed his penis against Lin Chen’s hole as he asked.
“Don’t look at me.” In that moment of stillness, Lin Chen’s gaze was heartbreaking.
“Who doesn’t want to see you?” he asked again.
“Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian don’t look at me… Xing Conglian don’t look at me like this!” Lin Chen sobbed, like a child who had made a mistake, extremely agitated and desperate. “Xing Conglian won’t like me. Xing Conglian can’t not like me…”
Every syllable uttered by Lin Chen stabbed into his heart like a knife. Indeed, it was just like that.
All of Xing Conglian’s movements ceased, and even his heart felt like it stopped beating. He had completely stripped himself and Lin Chen. They were facing each other, naked, and the surrounding was a mess, but he had lost all ability to act.
Perhaps it was half a minute, or maybe an infinitely long time, Xing Conglian felt the blood slowly flow back to his limbs. He didn’t understand what he was doing anymore.
He propped himself up on his elbow and kissed Lin Chen’s cheek, releasing the restraints on the bed, and got up. At that moment, Lin Chen suddenly yanked him violently and said to him, in a voice that was clear, unequivocal, unambiguous, and agonizing, with an instinctive human desire for love and sex, “Enter me…”
Lin Chen’s voice was full of fear, but his eyes were crazed with love.
Xing Conglian was once again filled with overwhelming grief, tightly embracing Lin Chen.
It was an incredibly painful and firm world, just like Lin Chen’s heart. Besides bleeding and forcibly tearing open, there was no other way.
Lin Chen gasped in pain writhing out of shape as he groaned, roared, and shouted “go away” and “please” incessantly.
Xing Conglian couldn’t experience any sexual pleasure but felt that such a painful union was too suitable for lunatics like them. He kept thrusting inside Lin Chen’s, going deeper and deeper.
“Ah… Nn…” Lin Chen’s voice had long since become hoarse, unable to form complete sentences. “Love you… I…”
Xing Conglian kissed his neck vigorously, thinking if he wrecked Lin Chen’s belly*, they would no longer have to face such difficulties.
*Figuratively as in his dick is so large it makes his stomach bulge.
He had never truly understood Lin Chen, starting from the moment Lin Chen appeared at his doorstep. He had never really understood Lin Chen.
“Tell me the truth. Tell me what you’re thinking!” He pulled out and suddenly grabbed onto the roots of Lin Chen’s hair, questioning Lin Chen forcefully.
“I, I… it hurts… it hurts.” Tears overflowed from Lin Chen’s eyes. “Xing Conglian… Xing Conglian…”
“Tell me!” he roared in anger.
Lin Chen shouted almost mournfully, “I love you. I don’t want to be your friend or colleague. I want to be with you.”
“Go on!” He pulled out again and thrusted his dick back into Lin Chen’s insides.
“Why don’t you like me? Why don’t you know that I love you? My luck is so bad. I encounter so many bad people, I could die at any time. Please fall in love with me, because if I’m not careful, I might not live to see that day.” Lin Chen was in complete pain, and he couldn’t feel any erotic pleasure. His words were jumbled and illogical. “I will die. I will die soon… If I die, you won’t know that I loved you… That’s good… It’s good this way…”
Xing Conglian understood very well that he would never hear these words from Lin Chen when he was clear-minded. This filled him with immeasurable heartache, and he couldn’t find any other outlet for his emotions. He could only continue to embed Lin Chen with his penis.
“I love you, but you can’t know. But Song Shengsheng died. He was such a good person, and he died. I can’t help it. I really can’t help it… I want to give it a try. I really want to try… I shouldn’t have done that, but I really couldn’t control myself. I love you!” Lin Chen bit into his shoulder in pain.
Xing Conglian tasted the bitterness of blood and tears in his mouth. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know… I really didn’t know…” He held Lin Chen tightly. He felt more helpless and terrified than Lin Chen. Besides continuously saying “I love you” and “I’m sorry”, he was at a loss for what to do.
“I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t abandon you. Shen Lian can’t die… Even if I die, she can’t die. But I have no way out. I really can’t think of any solution… Why am I so stupid… Why am I so stupid…” Xing Conglian didn’t know what Lin Chen was thinking. He started to desperately hit his head with his hands. “Don’t be sad, don’t be upset. It’s my fault, I’m so stupid, so stupid.”
“I know… I’m sorry, truly sorry… I know you tried your best…” Xing Conglian held onto Lin Chen’s hand, feeling ashamed for the momentary thought of breaking up. “But I really don’t know what to do. I have nothing good about me. I’m not good at all. I’ve killed many people. I’m foolish and selfish. Thank you… really, thank you…”
It was so difficult for Xing Conglian. Clearly, he should be cherishing Lin Chen, treasuring him, and loving him endlessly. But no matter what he did, he could never match the love Lin Chen had for him.
He stopped all his movements and gently kissed Lin Chen’s eyelashes. He tried to slow down his movements, but he felt that only pain could resolve everything.
“Xing Conglian… I’m sorry!”
Lin Chen shouted with the last of his strength with his hoarse voice, and the pain pierced through his heart.
At that moment, Xing Conglian realized that he had already lost himself when it came to Lin Chen. He was in complete disarray.
Apart from staying with Lin Chen through life and death, he had no other path to take.
Kinky Thoughts:
Okay, I didn’t realize that there was actually smut in this novel. When I first translated it, I was extremely confused as a few chapters after this, there was mention of them having sex and I was baffled as nothing of that nature was mentioned at all. It wasn’t until much later that I found out all the sex scenes were cut out in the JJ version, so I had to do a little bit of dicktective work and find the uncensored version. To replace the uncensored version, the author added bits to the censored version, so this chapter is actually a combination of both the uncensored and censored version.
I tried my best to combine them as smoothly as possible, but there might still be some areas that’s a bit disjointed. Still, it’s a lot better than reading and finding out they fuck and is completely lost as that was never mentioned (like I did in my first go).
For those concerned, there is one more sex scene chapter that was cut, but that’s not until the extras. As far as I can tell, no other smut was cut out.
He had always had a good temper, but after consecutive experiences of “financial freedom is at hand but then transformed into a small monster mob”, “nearly falling to death due to a collapsing ground when descending the mountain”, and “a high-level dungeon’s hidden boss attacking out of nowhere”, anyone would become irritable.
“Stop!” Nol shouted sternly. Accompanied by the hoarse voice of a skeleton soldier, this command was especially intimidating.
However, Teest didn’t slow down for even half a second.
“Water!” Teest retorted succinctly.
“The water will be intercepted by the Lich! If you keep running, your life will also be intercepted by the Lich—”
Teest finally stopped.
The roaring sound of water still echoed behind them, but the rumbling gradually grew fainter. The rock passage was originally surrounded by only mud, but now there were broken stone bricks scattered around. They were uneven, carrying the regularity characteristic of man-made objects. Compared to the dry riverbed, the surroundings looked more like the remnants of a corridor.
Teest waited in place for a few seconds, and the water flow indeed didn’t approach further. He raised an eyebrow. “You indeed know the monsters very well.”
“The Lich is a high-level undead. As another undead monster, I can sense it.”
In fact, Nol’s understanding of the Lich went far beyond this. Not to mention that he had personally tested all the dungeons; he had even seen the modeling of Lich Valdorlock without clothes.
To enrich the game world, the development team designed a few special professions that could only be obtained through hidden dungeons. Hidden dungeons were limited; once cleared, they disappeared, and the requirements to conquer them were very strict. If a Player failed to clear it, there would be no second chance.
Despite hidden dungeons adjusting their difficulty according to the number of Players, they were still class-changing dungeons and had strict level requirements. If the level wasn’t sufficient, one couldn’t even enter the dungeon.
Teest, in his rookie gear, looked like a newbie and Nol wasn’t even considered a Player; they shouldn’t be here at all!
Even going ten thousand steps back, to awaken the boss Valdorlock, one must first clear the hidden dungeon “Forgotten Royal Court”. To enter the Forgotten Royal Court, one must first complete a complex prelude quest.
No part of the journey included an “underground river corridor”, but they had ended up right at the Lich’s doorstep.
Nol had a foreboding feeling. Each dungeon had an independent map. There shouldn’t be a bug like “being air-dropped somewhere after external destruction”.
Something was wrong with this world.
“Any suggestions, Mage?” Teest leaned against a relatively intact brick wall. “Apart from dealing with that Lich, we seem to have no other choice.”
“No, it’s best to avoid it and find a way back to the surface,” Nol said. That Lich wasn’t something they could handle now.
“The back is all water, and ahead is a Lich. If we slowly dig a hole here, I’m sure I’ll starve to death,” Teest said lightly. “I’d rather try to fight the Lich.”
‘You’re dreaming,’ Nol thought helplessly.
A lone wolf challenging a lion could barely be called “trying”. But if it dared to attack a dragon, that wasn’t trying, it was courting death.
A cold laugh echoed in the darkness, as if agreeing with his opinion.
The next moment, the corridor in front of the two twisted. They were violently grabbed by spatial magic. The narrow and crumbling passage silently shattered, and the surroundings turned into a spacious hall.
The grand hall was slightly tilted, and knee-deep water had accumulated on the floor. The dark water surface reflected the mineral glow on the ceiling, as if the galaxy had fallen to the ground. On both sides of the hall, exquisite armor was covered with rust, golden red curtains were full of mildew, and no trace of life could be seen in the vast hall. Only the Lich—huge and floating in the center of the hall—was visible.
It stood three meters tall, draped in a tattered mage’s robe, and was bound in the middle of the hall by hundreds of translucent chains. The decaying edge of the robe just touched the water surface, causing ripples to spread.
At this moment, it looked down at the two with a sneer.
Lich Valdorlock was pale, with a thin and elongated face, devoid of hair or beard. His dry skin was tightly stretched over the skull, the cheekbones were high, and his pair of eyes were deeply recessed, with only two pinpoints of cold light visible in the shadows. Just being watched by him, Nol felt the illusion of being crushed.
“Go to the throne, quick!”
He didn’t want to wait for the Lich to give an opening speech. To Valdorlock, they were no different from cockroaches—the normal reaction to seeing a cockroach is to grab a slipper, not to make small talk with it.
Teest heeded the advice this time. He leaped from the water’s surface and rushed towards the throne. The moment he jumped away, massive shadow spikes thrust out from the water, piercing where they had once stood.
Missing his mark, the Lich remained expressionless.
He raised his skeletal claws, and the shadow spikes splintered into countless black arrows, their tails gleaming with dark green light, aimed directly at Teest.
Teest seemed to have eyes behind his back. He gracefully leaped across the ruined hall and occasionally skimmed over the chains that bound the Lich. Many black arrows that seemed to hit him were blocked by the chains. In less than ten seconds, he landed on the spacious throne.
“What now?” He asked the skull without even breaking a sweat.
‘Not bad in terms of motor skills,’ Nol thought, a bit surprised.
“Now rest for a while and wait for my body to grow back,” Nol said. “The throne is the only safe place here.”
Teest just hummed in response and started observing the Lich with interest. In contrast to their leisure, the Lich wasn’t in a happy mood—
“Sacrilege.”
The Lich indeed didn’t attack again. He pointed at them with his gaunt finger, his voice sharp and cold as ice water.
“Vermins trying to touch the throne—this is sacrilege.”
“I agree.” Teest put the skull beside his leg and sighed. “If you’d just send us back above ground, I’ll get off right away and even help you clean your precious chair.”
“No one can leave alive,” the Lich whispered ominously. “Not heroes, not traitors, and certainly not a knight without a master.”
“Don’t talk about people as if they’re pet dogs. I’m not the one that’s chained up.” Teest shook his head.
The Lich’s chains rattled, and the blue light in his eyes flickered.
So the kid’s profession is a knight, but he doesn’t even have a sword. Nol touched his newly grown rib, feeling numb.
No matter how sharp-tongued Teest might be, he couldn’t really harm the Lich. The Lich knew this and didn’t show anger, only gazing down at them maliciously.
“Living things need to eat. You can’t hide forever. Knight, your fate has only two endings—die on the throne in cowardice or die in despair by my hands.”
Teest groped beside the throne for a few seconds, grabbed a thumb-sized stone, and with a whizz, the stone flew through the air, hitting the Lich’s forehead.
[HP – 0]
This hit had no power; it only triggered the Lich’s combat state.
A dark red health bar appeared above the Lich’s head, long enough to make one’s eyes spin. Teest paused and stared at it thoughtfully for a few seconds before the bar disappeared.
“Aren’t you fully grown yet?” He poked Nol’s skull.
Nol didn’t answer right away.
As his body gradually became whole, he could finally take in his surroundings. Above the throne, the entire hall was visible—more real and beautiful than Nol’s memory.
Even the Lich, though a creature of death, radiated a subtle vitality.
The Dragon Tomb Garden was always dim, far inferior to the splendor of the hall before him. When the world he created turned into reality, no creator could resist the shock.
“…Don’t rush. I’m growing legs.” Nol snapped back to reality as Teest poked him again.
“With all due respect, even if you grow legs now, they’re of no use,” Teest said. “Until we take down that guy, we’re not going anywhere.”
This was true.
Given their weakness, one direct hit would be enough to bid farewell to this place. For Teest, “here” might mean “this dungeon”; but for Nol, “here” meant “this world”.
Even worse, if Teest was eliminated, Nol would also undoubtedly die. The undead had strong upper-level suppression. Even if he thought of a solution, he couldn’t implement it.
He managed to pick up a companion underground, which could be considered a balance of luck.
“Did you bring any healing herbs?” Nol asked.
“No.” Teest was still sizing up the Lich.
“Do you know healing magic?”
“No.”
“Have you ever learned how to engrave a tombstone?” Nol decided to withdraw the thought of “balanced of luck”.
“Aren’t you giving up too easily?” Teest finally turned his head back.
“Then at least tell me what you can actually do,” Nol said dryly. “Besides jumping and dodging.”
Teest counted on his fingers. “Swordsmanship, holy light spells, fireball spells. I guess these are the only things that will work on it.”
Nol fell silent; the blue flames in his eye sockets flickered.
Attacks within the safe zone couldn’t cause damage, and simply attacking and dodging wouldn’t work either. If anyone stayed in the safe zone for more than five seconds, the Lich would automatically disengage from the battle and recover to full health.
Someone must continually battle it.
Lich Valdorlock belonged to the high-IQ boss category. He had over sixty common attack combinations, which would continue to change with the battle.
The fighters must recognize those brief pre-casting animations.
Many of the Lich’s moves were area of effects* attacks that couldn’t be avoided entirely. And this would be a protracted battle where physical exhaustion was inevitable. Without healing methods, even the most experienced Players were doomed to fail.
*(AOE) An attack or defense, such as a spell or skill, that affects all characters within a specified range of the target place or character.
Fighters must have healing items or healing magic.
…These were the basic requirements for a normal raid*. But they were so underleveled that it was appalling, and they didn’t even have equipment or weapons.
*Raid boss. It’s a boss that’s specialized and designed to be fought by multiple players, typically of significantly higher difficulty than a normal boss and requires specialized strategy and/or loadouts.
A game puzzle.
Yes, this was just a game puzzle. Nol looked at the hall filled with starlight, and the thinking made him calm, as if he had returned to that familiar office.
“Your legs have grown back.” Teest spoke after an unknown period. “Mage, Mr. Mage?”
Nol raised his head from his thoughts. He had thought long enough. During that time, his body was restored, and his hit points were full again. This was a good start. Nol smiled, though Teest probably couldn’t recognize the grin on a skull.
“We need to sign a contract first to prevent us from attacking each other.”
“Is that a good idea? I’m human, you’re a monster. I’ve only heard of a similar contract…”
“No, not signing a ‘Master-Slave Contract’. Even if you were my biological father, it wouldn’t work,” Nol interrupted. No matter how dire the situation, he wouldn’t do something foolish like entrusting his fate to someone else.
Of course, he knew Teest meant no harm. For Players who wanted to team up with monsters, a “Master-Slave Contract” was the only known method.
But he wasn’t an ordinary monster.
He had a brain, and he was familiar with all the rules and loopholes of “Tahe”.
“We’re going to sign a different kind of contract.”
The skeleton on the throne announced, word by word.
“…In simple terms, we have to get married first.”
The author has something to say:
Teest: (Pupils quaking)
Being proposed to by a skeleton in an underground ruin is super exciting. Congratulations to the two for achieving the fastest marriage achievement (?
When Yin Ci released his grip, the pile of thorns grew back vigorously.
Yin Ci: “…”
Shi Jingzhi’s eyes were still red, and he struggled to appear calm. Unfortunately, the Buddha Heart Formation showed no mercy and gave him no face. Shi Jingzhi’s state of mind fluctuated like a withered willow in the wind, experiencing ups and downs. His inner demon followed suit, changing in a rather straightforward manner.
Yin Ci suddenly felt that the thorns on the ground weren’t the thorns of his inner demons, but Shi Jingzhi’s fox tail.
Demonic Lord Yin, who was usually carefree, chuckled when this thought flashed through his mind. Shi Jingzhi remained thunderstruck, his fragile expression not yet fading as it transformed into a shocked “How could you do this?”
“Do you care about me that much?” Yin Ci laughed.
Shi Jingzhi tried to muster a mixture of sorrow and heroism but encountered Yin Ci, who remained unmoved like a rock. In an instant, his emotions became feeble. He irritably withdrew his hand into his sleeve, transforming his earnest indignation into frustration.
After struggling for a moment and forcing the color back into his face, Shi Jingzhi managed to ask, “A’Ci, what do you really think about my inner demon?”
He wanted to open up proactively. Shi Jingzhi restrained the panic in his heart, silently meditating.
Yin Ci maintained his indifferent demeanor as always, but this time, he didn’t make any jokes. He answered quite seriously. “It’s growing well—full of vitality, making others envious.”
Shi Jingzhi: “…” Is it really too late to find another disciple now?
Seeing Shi Jingzhi’s uncertain expression, Yin Ci couldn’t help but suppress his laughter. “What else can I think? Love and hate are intense emotions, and it’s better to resolve them than suppress them. It’s a good thing to be able to understand.”
Shi Jingzhi and his inner demon breathed a sigh of relief, and the chaotic thorns on the ground finally settled down.
However, Yin Ci wasn’t finished yet. He added with a smile, “But Shizun’s true nature is even more adorable than I expected.”
Shi Jingzhi’s heart, which had just settled down, suddenly jumped back into his throat. After a moment, he stammered, “What nonsense are you talking about? Finding the demon lords is more important.”
But he did take his hand out of his sleeve again.
Yin Ci finished laughing and spoke seriously. “Just now, the Su and Yan duo led the demon lords, and I pursued the demonic qi to the edge of the cliff. However, I couldn’t locate their positions, which is suspicious. Your inner demon is external to your body, and it’s spread everywhere like a spider’s web. It happens to be useful in this situation.”
Shi Jingzhi caught on immediately. “Let’s go. Take me to the edge of the cliff.”
Shi Jingzhi’s inner demon was somewhat similar to Lord Bai. It wasn’t directly connected to him and didn’t affect his actions. However, the thorns were scattered all over, densely packed, and occasionally surging, making the path particularly difficult to traverse. Shi Jingzhi originally wanted to carry Lord Bai along, but the goose demon stayed by the unconscious Su Si’s side and refused to budge no matter what he said.
So he had to give up and proceed towards the edge of the cliff with Yin Ci.
The inner demon’s illusion shattered, but the blue sky remained unchanged. Mist rolled at the edge of the cliff, and the spiritual qi of Huilian Mountain floated in the air, exuding a majestic and unchanging presence.
Yin Ci stood at the edge of the cliff, furrowing his brow as he sensed the surroundings for a while. Then, he pointed in a certain direction outside the cliff and said, “The strongest demonic qi is concentrated over there, but it’s scattered and elusive.”
Shi Jingzhi understood. If it were him, he wouldn’t act recklessly by probing. Without a foothold in the void, a wrong judgment could lead to an attack by the demon lords in mid-air, resulting in an irreparable disaster.
“I’ll do it. I’ll expand the thorns to cover the nearby area.”
Yin Ci shook his head. “You’ve just developed your inner demon, and your emotions are unstable. It’s best not to exert too much effort. With my own inner demon as support, you only need to find their approximate locations.”
Yin Ci’s tone carried a natural sense of tolerance. In the past, Shi Jingzhi would inevitably question and analyze such statements. But now, he refrained from deep thought and accepted it wholeheartedly, finding it quite useful.
Shi Jingzhi took a few deep breaths. Despite his fatigue and headache, he extended over a dozen thorny branches of his inner demon towards the empty space outside the cliff. The sensation of the external body was no different from his actual body, and as soon as the thorns shot out, Shi Jingzhi felt a surge of demonic qi brushing against them.
“A’Ci, move forward thirty-five steps and left twelve steps!”
Yin Ci stopped at the edge of the cliff, and then he leaped towards the empty space outside the cliff. The Hanging Shadow Sword danced, resembling a storm, encompassing a radius of five steps. Soon, a cry of pain echoed within the gusts of the sword wind. Two demons gradually revealed themselves.
Outside the cliff, there was only empty space, without even a crooked-neck tree to lean on. Yin Ci couldn’t stay suspended in mid-air, so before the demons fully manifested, he used the shadow chains behind him to swing back.
The black fire in the headlamp didn’t flicker even a bit.
With the demon lords exposed due to the injury, the two of them could finally see their appearance.
Undoubtedly, they were the mountain guardians of Huilian. Though, including the Lord of Greed, not a single one resembled a fierce beast. On the outer side of the cliff, there was a floating and moving invisible stone platform with a bull demon and a monkey demon standing on it.
The bull demon seemed both real and illusory, appearing like a faint shadow at first glance, somewhat resembling the shadow hand on Yin Ci’s body. However, upon closer inspection, one could only see a small portion of its body that garnered attention, while the rest outside the line of sight dissipated like mist. Trying to forcibly observe would only lead to headaches and restlessness.
In short, its true form was elusive. It was likely that the demonic qi of the two demons had fragmented and become unpredictable, most likely due to this particular demon’s characteristics.
Blinded by anger and oblivious to the bigger picture, it was probably the Lord of Hatred.
The Lord of Ignorance was easier to recognize—sitting on the back of the bull demon, it had two faces growing from its left and right sides, but its four eyes were misplaced and still located on the front of its head. It stared coldly in their direction, and both of its mouths grinned, emitting low squeaks and chirps.
As soon as their traces were exposed, the two demons turned their heads and fled, disappearing into the air. This time, they didn’t use any concealment techniques—they didn’t entirely vanish but rather concealed themselves from head to toe, as if running into an invisible doorway.
Yin Ci and Shi Jingzhi exchanged glances.
Immediately, Yin Ci hugged Shi Jingzhi and leaped swiftly onto the invisible stone platform. The blood of the Demon Lords was still dripping on the platform, and upon closer inspection, it appeared as if a few drops of blood were moving freely, which was a strange sight indeed.
The floating stone platform fluttered in various directions, but Yin Ci had already memorized the location of the doorway. He tugged at the chain of shadows and looked at Shi Jingzhi. “Shizun, are you ready? If you need to rest, we can wait a little longer.”
Shi Jingzhi stared fixedly at the spot where the two demons disappeared and answered without hesitation. “Follow.”
Yin Ci snorted and leaped into the air once again.
His qinggong was much more solid than Shi Jingzhi’s. Even if the stone platform floated far away, he easily leaped into the invisible “doorway”.
Shi Jingzhi instinctively tightened his grip, and the two of them plunged into the void.
In just an instant, the daylight and mountains disappeared from view, and they fell into a cold shadow. Then, they landed solidly on the ground somewhere.
Within the darkness of the doorway, there was a secluded space. Yin Ci released his hold on Shi Jingzhi and felt around, only touching cold and rough rocks.
Beneath their feet was frozen soil, and the entrance had become a dark gray giant rock wall. It felt as if they hadn’t jumped into the empty space at the edge of the cliff, but rather fell into a narrow cave.
The cave was silent, with only a faint light coming through the distant opening. The formation here was different from the Buddha Heart Formation, and it seemed that the Lord of Hatred and Lord of Ignorance wouldn’t be trapped here; they had likely escaped long ago.
Shi Jingzhi rushed towards the cave entrance. Outside the cave, there was an expanse of vastness, with fierce winds and snow that enveloped the entire world in a white blur. He cautiously reached out his hand to touch the wind and snow outside the cave, but he only encountered emptiness.
It was the boundary of the formation.
Shi Jingzhi turned back and looked at Yin Ci behind him. The thorns that had been wrapped around his waist before were gone, and the shadow hand on Yin Ci’s body was nowhere to be seen.
He took a deep breath and decisively shared his discovery. “The inner demons have vanished. It seems we’re not inside the Buddha Heart Formation anymore. From the looks of it, someone has solidified a small formation here, and the two formations are incompatible.”
Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi with some surprise and continued the conversation. “Indeed. The scale of a small formation should be the work of an individual… To be crazy enough to tamper with the Buddha Heart Formation—we only know one person capable of that.”
Shi Jingzhi leaned against the cave wall with a worried expression. “Did he have to draw spiritual qi from the Buddha Heart Formation? Couldn’t Yan Budu have left a message without resorting to that?”
“It means he wanted to convey multiple clues, which is a good thing.” Yin Ci sat down in place and stretched lazily.
The moment they stepped in, the small formation was activated. Although the formation was created by Yan Budu, it was rare that there was no trace of hostility. It was mostly safe.
Despite being an illusion, the coldness within the formation remained. It seemed to be preserving the integrity of the formation. Shi Jingzhi had lost his inner demon, but his inner force was still suppressed by the small formation. He stood there, exhaling white vapor for a while, before finally giving in and leaning towards Yin Ci.
“May I lean on you for a while? I feel a bit cold,” he politely asked.
Yin Ci looked at him, finding his act quite convincing, and promptly made some space. “No need to be so polite. Come here.”
Shi Jingzhi, exhausted from the recent development of his inner demon, leaned on Yin Ci for a while, carefully adjusting his posture, half-hanging on Yin Ci’s body. His fatigue intensified, and he became drowsy.
Yin Ci hugged him, guiding him to adjust his breathing while keeping his eyes fixed on the entrance of the cave.
Yan Budu wouldn’t be so cruel as to let them freeze to death after playing around like this.
As expected, not long after, a figure stumbled into the cave.
The person wore dark red armor, and his white fox fur was stained with blood and snow. With one arm hanging limply, he was obviously severely injured. From a distance, the red jade smoking pipe at his waist was infuriatingly familiar.
Yin Ci quickly nudged the half-asleep fox. “He’s here.”
In the short time it took to burn two sticks of incense, Shi Jingzhi’s face was buried on Yin Ci’s shoulder as fragments of dreams scattered about. Now suddenly awakened, he was momentarily dazed and almost jumped up entirely. “What? Who’s here?”
His voice wasn’t low, but Yan Budu seemed as if he hadn’t heard it.
Squinting his crimson eyes, Yan Budu tore open his clothes and skillfully tended to his wounds. After setting the broken bones, he leaned against the rock wall and let out a long breath.
At that moment, he had tied his hair into a high ponytail, and the disheveled strands touched his pale skin, exuding a hint of charm. However, this charm, when applied to Yan Budu, carried an additional sense of dangerous intentions.
Yan Budu didn’t stay calm for long. After a while, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he covered his mouth, unexpectedly spitting out a mouthful of blood.
Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci: “…” This scene looked strangely familiar.
After vomiting out the blood, Yan Budu remained expressionless. He didn’t show any surprise and simply wiped away the fresh blood with a snowball he held in his hand. Then he wrapped himself in the fox fur and attempted to rest his eyes—yet every time he rested for a moment, he would turn his head and spit out a few more mouthfuls of blood.
Yin Ci’s expression turned strange. “Does he have this condition? I’ve never heard of it.”
Shi Jingzhi also held his breath and focused. “I haven’t come across any records either. It’s possible that the Ling Sect values strength above all and doesn’t want to admit that their own Hierarch can also fall ill… Or perhaps he has been enduring it in front of others. If it were me, I could endure it when necessary too.”
Yan Budu continued to sleep and vomit, vomiting and waking up, barely regaining some color in his face. Seemingly tired of sleeping, he weakly turned his head and looked towards the snowstorm outside the cave.
After observing for a while, Shi Jingzhi started to peck at imaginary grains again. Unexpectedly, it wasn’t Yin Ci who woke him up this time, but Yan Budu.
“Now that you’re here, you might as well come in and sit.”
Yan Budu’s voice was languid, filled with a strong sense of hostility, without a hint of weakness. He turned his head and greeted the outside of the cave.
“…I mean, Venerable Kongshi, with the situation outside like this, do you still want to immediately capture me and bring me out of the mountain?”
The author has something to say:
Yan Budu pulled a power cord from the monks’ formation, stealing electricity to power a video recorder (×
Fox Shi: What should we do? It’s so dangerous to enter the mortal world, and it’s so difficult to open up one’s heart.
“The person who came to negotiate conditions with you that day is indeed lifeless.” Shen Mo stretched his limbs on the sofa in the meeting room, in a relaxed posture. “Unfortunately, they fought too fiercely, and I could only watch from a distance. If I had gotten closer, maybe I could have seen more.”
“……”
Wei Huaqian’s face darkened.
“They can fight against those things? Since when does Shian have such a trump card…”
Seeing Wei Huaqian pondering with a solemn expression, Shen Mo chuckled. He poured himself a cup of hot tea. “It’s already this late, and you’re still worried about Shian’s trump card. No wonder Sunken Society has been declining year after year. Xiao Wei, if you don’t want to be a Charon, you’re better off running an underground workshop.”
Wei Huaqian took a few deep breaths and suppressed his anger gracefully. “What do you think?”
Shen Mo waved his hand casually, and an arm disappeared crisply into thin air, revealing a deep darkness where it used to be.
“The more corruption sources we release, the easier it is for us to come into contact with the Other Side. Even if you’re only half a Charon, you must have noticed something.”
“Those things on the Other Side want to merge the two worlds and control the human world?” Wei Huaqian’s response showed a hint of impatience.
“That’s why I said you’re more suited to be a boss of an underground workshop. The Other Side is similar in nature to the internet. Do you think the internet needs any ‘merging of two worlds’?” Shen Mo spoke while retracting his hand, which had disappeared into the void. His movements were slow, and the muscles on his arm were tense, as if he had caught something heavy.
“Controlling the human world… that statement is somewhat relevant. I think Shian will eventually realize that our collaborators from the Other Side can’t rely solely on Sunken Society to diligently spread corruption sources. Do you think those formidable things would leave the initiative in the hands of the inept Sunken Society?”
With a thud, a bloodied, naked body fell onto the carpet. Xiang Jiang’s eyes were tightly closed, his breathing shallow, as if unconscious or asleep. And beside him, Xiang Hai crouched closely. Only a faint shadow remained of the fierce ghost. Even so, it still opened its huge mouth and vigilantly exuded a ghostly aura.
“The Other Side definitely has other means to influence the human world, so I specially invited our esteemed guest.”
Shen Mo retracted his hand, and his face revealed an undisguised interest.
“Enough with the detours. You don’t really have a sense of existential crisis for humanity.” Wei Huaqian glanced at the fallen Xiang Jiang without much care. “Since you know that the Other Side has an ace up its sleeve, the more you know, the faster you’ll die.”
“If we are willing to assist them at all costs, they won’t be foolish enough to turn against us.”
Shen Mo shrugged his shoulders.
“We’ve come this far in the conversation, you surely understand, right? Xiao Wei, our interests are aligned.”
Wei Huaqian: “…”
He looked up and down at the handsome man in front of him, whose smile was full of charm.
Yes, he had long known that Shen Mo would never be satisfied with the current Sunken Society. After gaining the abilities of a Charon during the Divine Descent, Shen Mo betrayed Shian without any warning, assisting Sunken Society in stealing a large amount of classified information and precious spiritual weapons from Shian.
At that time, Shen Mo held a significant position in Shian. He even produced the “Evil Fruit” knife that was sealed by Shian.
A person like him could easily utilize his abilities to escape abroad and sell everything, living a more prosperous life than anyone in Sunken Society. However, Shen Mo chose to join Sunken Society and devoted all his energy to exploring the Other Side.
Wei Huaqian’s greatest ambition was to become a Charon, obtaining an extraordinary lifespan and formidable abilities. But what Shen Mo desired was something even more insane—
“You want to assist the Other Side and completely disrupt the existing order.”
Wei Huaqian moved his lips.
“…You want the current situation to turn into chaos.”
Without Shian’s suppression and police jurisdiction, powerful cultivators could roam freely in the dark corners of society, indulging in their nature and desires through the law of the jungle. Under the corruption, more people would see evil creatures and even awaken their own abilities, plunging further into madness.
With these creatures running rampant and the world in chaos, someone like Shen Mo would become a legendary figure, surpassing billions of people, almost like a myth.
Just like the legendary Great Celestial Master Zhong Yi.
Faced with Wei Huaqian’s speculation, Shen Mo didn’t answer. He merely tugged at the corner of his mouth with a burning and pure gaze, as if questioning—
Is it not allowed?
So Wei Huaqian gave his answer.
“Our interests are indeed aligned. Do as you please. I don’t care.”
……
“Ah? Do as you please. I don’t care.”
After Yin Ren was awakened by Zhong Chengshuo’s shaking, his spinal cord bypassed his brain and gave an automatic response.
He fell asleep, but he couldn’t be blamed. The meeting in Shian had been going on for nearly six hours, and Professor Li and Fu Xingchuan had argued internally at least ten times. Of course, the main focus was on the handling of the subsequent situation, which inevitably involved Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo.
Not long ago, Minister Li Nian of Shian officially introduced the two of them—
Yin Ren, the Great Celestial Master Zhong Yi from a thousand years ago, and the master of Shian’s founding ancestor. Mr. Yin was a senior evil with a thousand years of experience, recently forced to switch to being a “Fear” Elemental cub. He could fight—very well in fact—but seemed reluctant to do so.
Zhong Chengshuo, the former Fear who was kicked out of the retirement home on the Other Side, currently deeply fused with a human body. The advantage was that he couldn’t be killed no matter what, but the downside was that, apart from this advantage, his combat power was quite limited. He held a master’s degree from A University, currently passionate about scientific research while searching for his sister, and if possible, he still wanted to publish research papers.
Also, the two of them were currently in a passionate cohabitation relationship, and their relationship was relatively stable.
For a moment, the meeting room fell silent—including Qi Xin. She looked at Zhong Chengshuo with an extremely complicated expression that almost distorted her features.
Zhong Chengshuo innocently locked eyes with her, as if he were only a step away from wearing a sign around his chest that read “Purely Innocent”. Beside Zhong Chengshuo, Yin Ren couldn’t bear the long meeting and tilted his head on Zhong Chengshuo’s shoulder, blatantly taking a nap.
Good news, two Fears.
Bad news, they both seemed useless.
Watching Qi Xin’s face grow increasingly displeased, Zhong Chengshuo decided to wake Yin Ren up. Yin Ren’s first reaction was not to check on Qi Xin but to scan his companions.
Ge Tingting had a serious expression, seemingly calm in the face of “everyone being formidable”. Lu Xiaohe looked at Zhong Chengshuo with a complicated expression, but there was no hidden anger on her face. Huang Jin—Huang Jin covered his face with both hands, emitting an aura of despair, as if he had lost all hope and no one knew what he was thinking.
Fu Tianyi, who was next to Huang Jin, was unconscious.
So this was the case. Yin Ren calmly withdrew his gaze. It seemed that everything Shian needed to say had been said while he was dozing off.
“I really don’t mind. I can cooperate with any work.” Faced with the various expressions of his colleagues, Yin Ren quickly patted his cheeks and straightened his posture.
“…It’s not that simple.”
Li Nian rubbed his temples, not bothering to conceal the weariness in his tone.
“The corruption outside is spreading, Xiang Jiang has betrayed us, and Fu Xingchuan personally defeated him. I can, for the time being, request his reinstatement. But whether it’s your and Zhong Chengshuo’s identities or Qi Xin’s situation, it’s difficult to coordinate them in a short period of time.”
“Mm, the opponent has become clever.”
Fu Xingchuan added, supplementing his old partner.
“If it were the Divine Descent twenty years ago, the situation would be critical, and decisions would be made quickly. Now, the corruption is simmering, seemingly under control. If your situations were to be reported, who knows how long it would take to resolve them.”
Yin Ren rubbed his temples. “So?”
Li Nian fell silent for a moment and then spoke with some difficulty. “My suggestion is to wage a protracted war. Since Love intends to continue its continuous assault on the gaps to interfere with the human world… We should utilize the power of Yin Ren and Qi Xin to reinforce all weaknesses and seal Love on the Other Side. During this time, we’ll mobilize all of Shian’s forces to completely destroy the sources of corruption. Love will be trapped in the gaps, either retreating back to the Other Side or deteriorating within the gaps. We just need to persevere through generations, and we will eventually find better solutions.”
‘Orderly and moderate, not much different from sealing,’ Yin Ren thought. In the past, he had sealed the Six Evil Spirits at the request of Huajisi because he couldn’t completely eliminate them. After so many years, it seemed that Shian’s approach to handling things hadn’t changed much.
“The way I see it, Love clearly has other ambitions, and delays can lead to unforeseen changes.”
Fu Xingchuan took a sip of tea and cleared his throat forcefully.
“According to Qi Xin’s statement, a new Joy and Disgust will be born, and Love can still persuade them to return. I suggest fully supporting Yin Ren to become stronger and deal with Love in one go.”
With the leader of the Human Harvesting Project gone, the next Love wouldn’t have the aura of a “Hero that slayed Fear”. It was hard to say what the situation would be on the Other Side. If the Elementals continue to cause chaos for tens of thousands of years, humans may disappear on their own in the river of history.
“But if Yin Ren becomes the main force, the higher-ups will certainly be concerned about this ‘new threat’ posed by Yin Ren,” Li Nian said helplessly. “His life will be severely affected.”
Fu Xingchuan smiled calmly. “Well, we can’t beat Yin Ren right now anyway. When the time comes, we can bring out the ‘Great Celestial Master’ card and scare those administrators—there are different ways to deal with strength.”
“You can do whatever you want, but I have only one request,” Qi Xin chimed in elegantly, turning her head to the side. “Once things are settled here, I want the Fear cub to willingly come back with me and restore order on the other side.”
As they spoke, Yin Ren’s mind was filled with endless chatter, like a never-ending parent-teacher conference. He stood up straight, causing the chair to emit a sharp creaking sound.
The arguments in the meeting room came to an abrupt halt.
Zhong Chengshuo: “Yin Ren?”
“Let’s eat. I’m hungry,” Yin Ren said in a deep tone. “Unit 9’s mission is to find the missing people; investigating the school’s corruption is just a side task. Now that Mr. Le, who was planning the school corruption, is dead, the mission on this side is complete.”
Lu Xiaohe suddenly raised her head, and even Li Nian was visibly taken aback. “You…”
“Unit 9 still has work to do. The missing people case hasn’t been solved yet, and the passage to the Other Side has been established, hasn’t it?”
Yin Ren waved his hand.
“You guys can argue about the follow-up tasks all you want. I’m definitely going to continue investigating the missing people case. Once the assignments are settled, we’ll do the assigned tasks and calculate the bonuses accordingly. I’ll cooperate.”
His tone was not much different from any other Shian employee, just with a touch of weariness, as if this was a regular work report meeting.
“Ma… Master Yin, this decision affects the future direction of humanity. In the worst-case scenario, the whole world could descend into chaos! How could you—”
Fu Tianyi finally caught his breath and exclaimed incredulously.
His hair was still standing on end from his “fortunate participation in an important mission to safeguard the world”.
“I was never interested in the bigger picture, and I don’t remember when I became a superhero. Let humans deal with their own affairs.”
Yin Ren forcefully rubbed his face.
“But I promised Lu Xiaohe that I would save her mother. Now, does anyone have anything else?”
“There’s a special sale at the supermarket tonight, so I need to leave work early.” Zhong Chengshuo stood up as well. “Now that the situation has been explained, can I have my ‘relic’ phone back?”
After speaking, he solemnly nodded to several members of Unit 9 and sincerely apologized for keeping them in the dark, saying, “The situation was special, and I’m sorry for hiding it for so long.”
However, only Ge Tingting was able to respond with stable emotions, while Lu Xiaohe covered her mouth and her eyes turned red in the flickering light.
As soon as the two of them reached the door, the roots of the willow tree trembled as if afraid of being burned, and they moved aside. No one in the meeting room spoke until they left the room.
“Hahaha, I told you!” Fu Xingchuan punched Li Nian and laughed out loud. “Does that guy look like the type who cares about the world?”
Li Nian’s expression was somewhat complex, with a mix of surprise and melancholy, as if he had a bitter feeling that he couldn’t express.
“It seems we can’t come to a conclusion for now.”
“Well, it’s not urgent for the next day or two. Let’s take it step by step.” Fu Xingchuan shrugged his shoulders. “Yin Ren is right. The case of the missing corruption sources hasn’t been resolved yet.”
……
In the early evening of the dark autumn and winter days, the sky was already adorned with faint stars.
In Shian’s cafeteria, Yin Ren served himself six pieces of pan-fried duck breast. The six pieces of meat piled up into a small mountain on his plate, sizzling and emitting the aroma of oil and spices. Next to the duck breast were steaming fish-flavored shredded pork, scrambled eggs with scallions, and braised tofu skin with vegetables. With a side of piping hot multigrain rice and a simmering white fungus soup, it was another hearty work meal.
“What are you thinking?”
Yin Ren took a bite of the duck meat. The crispy duck skin released the flavor of the spices, while the tender duck meat oozed with juices, making him close his eyes in satisfaction.
“What do you mean, what am I thinking?”
Zhong Chengshuo was still faced with a plate of garlic-flavored boiled vegetables and a soft-boiled egg, but now there was also a dish of piping hot stewed beef with potatoes. He was currently using a spoon to mix the mashed potatoes and meat broth into the rice with an expression just as serious as if he was conducting an experiment.
“About what’s next.” Yin Ren puffed out his cheeks and his voice was slightly muffled. “Fu Xingchuan and Li Nian want to maintain the bigger picture, while Qi Xin wants to save the Other Side in her own way. They all have their own stances.”
Zhong Chengshuo paused his chewing motion and lifted his gaze, looking intently at Yin Ren.
Yin Ren picked up a piece of braised tofu skin with vegetables and held it out to him. “The problem is, you are the real party involved; it’s a murder case related to you. Now that things are clear, as the victim, what do you think?”
As the “Fear” on the Other Side, he had no thoughts, surviving solely on instincts. Since the inception of the Other Side, he lived a regular and comfortable life, eating and sleeping. But one day, he was suddenly trapped in a sack and beaten mercilessly, his body torn apart, and then left to die in the interstitial space.
He may not have had thoughts initially, but he felt pain. Perhaps one of the motivations was the chaotic rabbit climbing the cliff, fighting against endless pain.
If the two of them hadn’t met by chance, Fear would probably have perished in ignorance a thousand years ago.
“To be honest, I just don’t like everyone turning into lunatics. But I don’t believe I have an obligation to prevent all disasters.”
Yin Ren lowered his voice.
“But someone tried to murder my target, and now that I’ve found the culprit, of course, I want to ask about their intentions.”
“…Honestly, I don’t have any particular thoughts.”
Zhong Chengshuo bit onto the tips of his chopsticks thoughtfully.
“When I was being hunted by them, I didn’t have thoughts yet, nor did I harbor any hatred. Even if I did, prey resisting predators is only natural. If you want to seek revenge for me, personally, I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“Hmm.” Yin Ren played with the end of his hair.
“But I do have some thoughts about the Other Side. No matter what decision we make, it wouldn’t be wise without proper investigation.”
Zhong Chengshuo toyed with the vegetables on his plate with a faint gleam shining in his black eyes.
“You want to fulfill Lu Xiaohe’s wish, and I want to conduct ecological research. Yin Ren, let’s go to the Other Side together.”
Yin Ren blinked in surprise.
Familiar location, familiar person. The only difference was the sight of fallen leaves and bare branches outside the window, compared to the vibrant green trees and sunshine back then. Compared to the Zhong Chengshuo he had first met, the person before him now exuded an indescribable liveliness.
At this moment, Zhong Chengshuo still looked at him with seriousness in his eyes. However, there was a hint of anticipation and barely detectable unease on his face. For this guy, the human crisis, the battle of the Elementals, and everything else probably paled in comparison to the importance of “finding Zhong Chengfeng and giving an account to the two elders”.
He truly deserved to be the cute accomplice he had personally chosen.
“Yes, we should definitely go together.”
Yin Ren took a bite of the last piece of duck breast, hiding the sudden surge of laughter.
“If the science post isn’t there, I can’t go out to do field work.”
……
Haigu Municipal Hospital.
Sun Qi’an opened her eyes, and the hospital’s snow-white ceiling welcomed her. She instinctively moved her head, but immediately winced—it was just a slight movement, yet her head throbbed painfully.
Her previous memories were hazy and vague. She racked her brain to recall but couldn’t make sense of anything.
She was working normally when suddenly there was commotion in Zhang Hejun’s ward. She went to see… to see… and then what?
Right, how is Zhang Hejun doing? The little girl’s condition remained poor even after being rescued. Earlier, her father was investigating her case and mentioned that the main suspect was particularly troublesome… The main suspect? Who was the main suspect again?
Her memories became increasingly chaotic, and the pain in her head intensified. Sun Qi’an gritted her teeth and let out a muffled groan.
Could it be that the tumor in her head worsened? Enduring the excruciating pain, she reached out her hand towards the nurse call button.
A hand pressed it down for her.
Yes, a hand, connected to a lone floating arm in mid-air.
The hand was fair and rosy, with a gentle and beautiful shape. The arm it was connected to had an extremely graceful curve, and the overly elongated arm gradually became transparent at the end, disappearing into thin air. However, just when she wanted to observe it more closely, the hand seemed to be enveloped in clouds and mist, obscuring the details from her view.
Shouldn’t she scream?
Sun Qi’an stood frozen in place, forgetting her headache completely.
The hand seemed to sense her tension. Its fingertips slowly left the nurse call button and gently caressed Sun Qi’an’s head. She stiffly withdrew into the covers, and the hand tucked her in with movements exuding utmost tenderness.
It was the same way her mother would tuck her in with the blankets.
Sun Qi’an tightly shut her eyes as a chill ran down her spine. Just when she didn’t know what to do, the door creaked open, and a nurse hurriedly walked in.
Upon hearing the footsteps of a living person, Dr. Sun forced her eyelids open, cautiously scanning her surroundings.
That arm had vanished in the blink of an eye.
The nurse seemed completely unaware of it, and only a black cat silently stared from the doorway, standing still for a while.
The author has something to say:
This arc is over!!!
Kinky Thoughts:
Arc is over. Summary below.
With Yin Ren’s memory uncovered, Sunken Society moved on to implement their next phase—a mass spread of corruption sources from Evil Force all over Haigu. With the spread of corruption source, Haigu saw a rise in crime and reckless behavior.
One such case was Lu Xiaohe’s mother, who, upon coming into contact with a corruption source, vanished out of thin air. This led Unit 9 to start investigating the case, which seemed connected to the rise in corruption sources that were spreading across Haigu.
While investigating, they stumbled upon Haigu Secondary School, which seemed to be a mass source of corruption and also a high-profile case of a live burial of a middle schooler. The mastermind behind the burial was Luo Chunlei.
In order to go undercover, Yin Ren used Yellow Millet to project a middle school version of Zhong Chengshuo while he remained invisible, sticking to Zhong Chengshuo’s side. While Zhong Chengshuo investigated the classroom, Ge Tingting and Huang Jin investigated the school and stumbled across an old janitor.
It was later revealed that the janitor is actually a Primordial Elemental representing “Joy” from the Other Side and had been providing the corruption sources to Sunken Society, which then distributed them across Haigu.
Yin Ren devised a plan to lure out the Primordial Elemental and eventually faced off in a confrontation against Joy in the interstitial space. It was then revealed by Joy the true background of the Other Side and why the events of the Divine Descent of over a thousand years ago happened (which I summarized in the previous chapter). The spread of corruption sources from the Other Side was to plummet the human world into madness and chaos, which would allow humans to produce twice as much emotional resonance that would feed the Elementals of the Other Side, which was going through famine.
Eventually, Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo were able to defeat Joy, who then sacrificed himself to Love (the true mastermind behind everything). They were able to narrowly escape with the help of Sorrow, who wants to restore order on the Other Side by reinstating the Fear that was killed.
Meanwhile, Xiang Jiang turned out to betray Shian, and he faced off against Fu Xingchuan. With the help of Ge Tingting and Huang Jin, they were able to subdue him until Love interfered, allowing Xiang Jiang to escape with the help of Shen Mo.
With things coming together, Unit 9 now plans to embark to the Other Side to rescue the missing people with the help of Sorrow.
The snow-white arms stretched out in unison, forming a horrifying flood of flesh. Although it was only a portion, its momentum far surpassed that of the previous Mr. Le. It was most likely the legendary “Love”.
Yin Ren desperately dodged those arms. His instincts were frantically warning him. Once influenced by those arms, things would likely spiral out of control.
Even the presence of “pure thoughts”, a human-made item, was enough to throw off his movements. Now he was working with Zhong Chengshuo. If they were to be affected by the genuine “Love”…
Yin Ren was exhausted, and the spirit of the Primordial Elemental within the vortex was at its peak. If they blindly fought, he might end up as a side dish to Mr. Le.
In an instant, Yin Ren suppressed his fighting spirit and focused all his energy on evading and escaping.
He dodged layers of swinging arms, swiftly shrinking his body to take on the appearance of Zhong Chengshuo. Amidst the thousands of extended arms, Yin Ren wrapped the real Zhong Chengshuo in red silk and hoisted him up, running toward the spot where the gap had appeared earlier.
Gaps like these only appeared in weak points of space. Even if it had somewhat recovered now, the space there was still weaker than elsewhere.
Obviously, Love was aware of this too, as more arms surged toward Yin Ren from the opposite direction. Yin Ren squeezed out his remaining strength, building layer upon layer of defense, stubbornly inching forward.
Perhaps due to his nature, Mr. Le wasn’t as easily digested as Mr. Qiu. After hastily consuming a large amount of the pale “Joy”, Yin Ren’s body felt uncomfortable, and his steps became heavier. More arms pressed against his defenses, making it increasingly difficult for Yin Ren to advance. If it weren’t for Zhong Chengshuo giving him his eyes, Yin Ren doubted he would be able to move at all.
Is he going to fail?
They’ve come this far, haven’t they?
Yin Ren held Zhong Chengshuo tightly, almost grinding his teeth to pieces. Explosions resounded around him, breaking through a layer of defense, which he added another. If his strength waned, he burned his flesh and blood.
Just a little bit more, just a little bit more… Zhong Chengshuo’s life was in his hands, and the purpose of the Other Side had yet to be revealed. He couldn’t allow himself to be trapped and die here.
Step by step, even if it was as slow as a snail, Yin Ren kept pushing aside the overwhelming arms, resolutely moving towards the exit. The “turtle shell” couldn’t chew him up. The snow-white arms swiftly descended from the clouds, piling up like mountains against Yin Ren.
They had reached their destination!
One of Yin Ren’s hands transformed into a winged sickle, fiercely cutting through space. At the same time, he madly activated his hair to transmit messages, preparing his companions outside to assist him in tearing open the gap. However, for some reason, his transmitted messages seemed to vanish into thin air, and there was no response from Fu Xingchuan.
The joy of surviving a calamity had just ignited, only to be extinguished by a bucket of cold water.
What’s going on?!
Did he have to fight head-on?
Yin Ren stopped at what should have been the exit and swallowed a mouthful of saliva. He was nearing exhaustion, and he didn’t even have a chance to communicate and delay. The massive Primordial Elemental in front of him clearly wasn’t as easy to deal with as Mr. Le. Its movements carried a strong intent to kill, and countless palms pressed down fiercely from above Yin Ren.
Bang!
Before Yin Ren could react, a dull sound rang out.
A thick barrier of corpses had risen beside him.
…No, perhaps it wasn’t truly corpses in the literal sense.
Countless small whirlpools emerged around Yin Ren, revealing legs and feet of various creatures. They maintained their normal size but became twisted and entangled, like intricately woven knots. Numerous legs and feet intertwined and remained motionless, emanating a chilling silence.
From the depths of the entangled limbs, various subtle mournful sounds could be heard. They were like sighs, like murmurs, and just a few earfuls of hearing them were enough to bring tears to one’s eyes.
The barrier in front of Yin Ren writhed incessantly, barely forming a human shape. Decaying and withered limbs sprouted fleshy membranes, and a human face slowly emerged.
It was Qi Xin’s face.
“The presence of Joy on the Other Side has disappeared.”
She moved her pupil-less eyes and revealed a satisfied smile.
“Not bad, cub. You still have some use.”
Yin Ren had no time for questions and took advantage of Qi Xin’s protection. He clawed at the space, tearing it apart with all his strength. At the same time, Qi Xin’s power was fully unleashed. The previously fragile space was vigorously torn apart by the two large Primordial Elementals. The space emitted a grating sound, and they managed to tear open a gap of over a meter.
Yin Ren plunged headfirst into it, and Qi Xin quickly followed, making their escape.
In the next moment, the sea of white arms surged forward, but unfortunately, it missed its mark.
Yin Ren held onto Zhong Chengshuo tightly as the two of them crashed heavily onto the ground of the school’s back mountain. The dust settled, and Yin Ren no longer had the strength to maintain his disguise, reverting back to his true form.
Finally, it was over. Yin Ren wearily stood up. “Fu—”
Before he could finish speaking, the tone changed. Just a few steps away from Yin Ren, Fu Xingchuan’s two white tigers were facing off against Ge Tingting and Huang Jin.
Behind Fu Xingchuan stood Zhang Hejun and Dr. Sun. One held a utility knife, the other gripped a shovel handle. Together with Ge Tingting and Huang Jin, all four of them wore the same gentle and chilling expression on their faces.
Love.
This was definitely not a simple emotional influence. Setting aside the others, Huang Jin could never reveal such a maternal expression.
Right, Love was different from the other Elementals. It existed between the gaps, closer to the “human world”, naturally having more ways to interfere with living beings… Yin Ren knew that he had left someone outside to provide support, and it seemed that Love had also kept an ace up its sleeve.
Yin Ren’s entire body felt almost powerless, but he still struggled to gather what little strength remained, hiding it in the palm of his hand.
Fu Xingchuan might have never encountered so many “traitors” in his entire life. He didn’t know whether to take action or not. The two white tigers were circling around him. Moreover, judging by their physical condition, Fu Xingchuan and Yin Ren were almost the same—his long robe was stained with blood and dirt, and the skin of one of his hands was completely missing, exposing the bright red muscles.
Fu Xingchuan was breathing heavily, and his strength was extremely unstable. It was clear that he was at his last breath. Judging from the scene of the battle and the residual evil qi around him, there should have been a powerful person here before. Now that powerful person was nowhere to be found; perhaps they had escaped.
A little further away, Li Nian and his A-level investigation team were standing. The sealing techniques in their hands were ready to be unleashed, and it was a critical moment. Everyone’s gaze was focused on this side, showing varying degrees of astonishment.
Yin Ren: “…”
Well, it turned out Shian was already prepared, but his appearance was untimely.
However, when it came to the lives of their companions, it was better to resolve the matter sooner. Yin Ren subconsciously wanted to take action, but Qi Xin easily grabbed his wrist and pulled it aside like squeezing a balloon.
Then Qi Xin extended both hands and made a twisting handkerchief gesture.
Ge Tingting, Huang Jin, Sun Qi’an, and Zhang Hejun felt as if they had been hit by a heavy blow. They held their heads expressionlessly, tears streaming from their eyes. In front of everyone, the four of them curled up in place, and the hostility around them dissipated in an instant.
“I smell the scent of a Charon. Those from Sunken Society are watching the show.”
Ignoring the piercing gazes of Shian and the others, she whispered to Yin Ren with a smile.
Upon hearing this, Yin Ren covered Zhong Chengshuo’s head tightly with a red silk spirit weapon, concealing his empty eye sockets. Qi Xin glanced at the nearby humans and once again extended both hands, gently twisting them.
A faint sadness, like moonlight, enveloped everyone present. All the spellcasters came to a unified pause, and in that moment, Qi Xin’s figure flickered and disappeared without a trace.
“It’s okay. I’ll come find you again.”
With that, Qi Xin’s presence neatly disappeared.
Yin Ren stood in a daze in the same spot, watching as Ge Tingting and Huang Jin were controlled by Shian. He felt his nerves relax, and exhaustion and pain washed over him. Yin Ren exerted all his strength to hold Zhong Chengshuo tightly, finally losing consciousness.
……
When Yin Ren woke up again, he was still holding Zhong Chengshuo in his arms.
But the surroundings were a bit strange. The room was decorated in Shian’s style, with no windows, and cameras quietly attached to the corners of the room, but they weren’t active.
Beside him, Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes were already covered with gauze, emitting a faint medicinal scent. Comrade Xiao Zhong maintained his strong composure, still indifferent even if the sky were to collapse, and fell asleep while being held like this. His expression was extremely relaxed, as if he were sleeping in the safest place in the world.
As one of the villains in the fairy tale, this person really had no self-awareness… But then again, neither did he.
Yin Ren took a deep breath and lay there dazed for a while.
The expression before Mr. Le’s demise kept spinning in his mind—
If Mr. Le brought Luo Chunlei here, it wasn’t for escape but to conveniently offer himself to “Love”, right?
When he was killed by his own hands, Mr. Le’s reaction wasn’t particularly surprising. His own downfall was probably within Mr. Le’s expectations… Rather than waiting to be devoured by the enemy, Mr. Le left his remains to his companion.
If it weren’t for Qi Xin’s timely intervention, both Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo would have lost more than their lives. Their strength had already been thoroughly discovered by Mr. Le.
Fortunately, they held on until the end and kept their final card—at least for now, Love still didn’t know that there were two true “Fears”.
“Two tigers, two tigers, run fast…”
Yin Ren hummed a song as his palm caressed Zhong Chengshuo’s cheek. The latter murmured a couple of words in his sleep and gently leaned into Yin Ren’s hand.
“One without eyes… Hmm, can’t be without eyes.”
Yin Ren’s palm covered Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes, and he propped himself up slightly, leaning in for a kiss.
The crisis was averted, and there was no one around. Yin Ren gathered the Evil Force on his tongue and transferred it into Zhong Chengshuo’s body. Zhong Chengshuo was startled awake by his actions, and he gently embraced Yin Ren’s waist, turning it into a real kiss.
A hazy warmth, a kiss that could make all the troubles in the world fade away.
The two of them kissed affectionately for a few minutes before Zhong Chengshuo reached up to undo the bandages. He cautiously opened his eyelids stained with blood, revealing two new, pitch-black pupils.
Yin Ren: “…” The left pupil of this person was as small as a button, while the right pupil almost filled the entire eye socket. Behind the pitch-black pupils, one could vaguely see something surging.
Yin Ren coughed desperately. “The sizes of the left and right sides are different, adjust them again.”
Zhong Chengshuo acknowledged and went to the bathroom to find a mirror. When he came back, he returned to the “ordinary human” appearance familiar to Yin Ren—handsome face, smooth and clean skin. Zhong Chengshuo also brushed his teeth and took a shower, emitting a refreshing scent of shower gel.
After completing all of this, he poured two cups of warm water and even compared the water levels of the two cups. Seeing that both identical cups were filled with the same amount of water, a faint sense of satisfaction appeared on Zhong Chengshuo’s face.
He really wanted the Elementals from the Other Side to see this. Yin Ren reluctantly took the warm water.
Having gone to great lengths to eliminate Fear, the result was that Fear didn’t disappear but instead became two Fears—one deeply engrossed in studying, the other longing for a vacation. It was hard to say whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.
Yin Ren slowly laid back on the pillow, stretching out like a character.
However, Lord Ghost King didn’t have much time to rest before a familiar person knocked on the door.
Fu Tianyi looked at Yin Ren absentmindedly. “Second Uncle has been going in and out of the hospital again. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
Yin Ren: “…”
Yin Ren: “Just say it.”
“Professor Li is looking for you.”
……
When Yin Ren arrived, Huang Jin was watching a slideshow of his life in the isolation room.
After returning to Shian, he and Ge Tingting were separated into two isolation rooms for treatment. Even though he didn’t know the specific regulations of Shian, he could tell the level of secrecy here. The ones who came to inquire about them were none other than Li Nian and Minister Jiao with her portable phone.
The questions asked were all about what had happened before.
Huang Jin recounted everything in detail.
Not long ago, Yin Ren personally wrote a tranquility talisman for Ge Tingting and Huang Jin, who volunteered to act as bait. He also added a protective talisman with his own hair, worried that they might encounter life-threatening situations. If that happened, the warning talisman from Lu Xiaohe’s side would immediately ignite, and Yin Ren would personally take action.
Despite all this, Yin Ren was still very worried.
“The opponent’s strength is unknown, and my protective talisman may not be able to completely protect you. You have to think it through.” He emphasized it repeatedly.
Fortunately, their predictions were quite accurate. Killing them directly or throwing them into the gap would trigger extreme circumstances, as Shian could sense their “death” through his techniques. Mr. Le only took away their phones and left Huang Jin and Ge Tingting in the office, leaving them to fend for themselves.
The next steps were simple. Yin Ren successfully rescued both of them and instructed them to hide their presence near the pavilion in the back mountains and act accordingly. Fu Xingchuan was aware of this matter.
As for Fu Xingchuan’s confrontation with Xiang Jiang and their opportune attacks, it could be considered successful.
The problem arose after arresting Xiang Jiang.
Huang Jin remembered that they were supposed to assist Fu Xingchuan in controlling the spells and help Yin Ren escape in time. However, just before he could handcuff Xiang Jiang with a spirit weapon, he lost consciousness.
All he remembered was the excruciating pain in his head.
When he regained consciousness, Huang Jin found himself kneeling on the ground, shedding tears uncontrollably. His heart was filled with an overwhelming, inexplicable grief. The A-level investigation team from Shian surrounded him with unfriendly gazes.
…No matter how he looked at it, the situation was quite dire.
Did he kill someone? Did he kill someone important to him? No, for him, the most important person was only Ding Lizi… Could it be because Shian erased another important person?
After all, when Huang Jin recalled the entire case, he realized that there were large gaps in his memory. It would have been fine if he didn’t think about it too much, but the more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he felt. It seemed like someone had disappeared from the case, and he couldn’t remember who it was, no matter how hard he tried.
Huang Jin had applied to see the case files before. There was a name among them, and all the information related to it became unreadable. The words were right there on the paper, but no matter how hard he tried, those lines of text couldn’t enter his mind.
It’s over. Everything’s over. He had landed himself in big trouble.
Huang Jin curled up in a corner, holding his head, filled with regret.
What the hell was going on! If he had known, if he were given another chance by fate, to go back to the time when he only needed to worry about the high-interest loans from Sunken Society—he should have taken a submachine gun and fired it at the members of Sunken Society, rather than joining Shian under reformation.
As Huang Jin tearfully wove this tragic story, Yin Ren couldn’t bear it any longer and pounded on the glass.
“The door has been open for fifteen minutes! Come out!”
“My brain is broken.” Huang Jin stared at the corner of the wall. “The previous case feels wrong… Someone is missing, and I can’t remember… “
“○○○, right? When someone is directly devoured by a creature from the Other Side, it can cause this phenomenon.” Yin Ren explained with patience as he tapped his head against the glass. “Let’s not talk about you as a black seal not remembering her, even Li Nian doesn’t remember her. That case is closed, and it has nothing to do with you.”
Just like the mayor of Gengsheng Town, when Love devoured Luo Chunlei, everything related to that girl was erased from their “cognition”.
Her desk and stationery were still there, her room and clothes were still there, and her chat records in the anonymous chat group were still there.
But people would simply scan over them with wide eyes, unable to leave any trace in their minds. In this world, it seemed that only Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo still remembered that arrogant and domineering little girl.
Even if someone like Huang Jin was aware that there was a “role vacancy”, they couldn’t obtain any more information and would only be truly frightened.
“I lost a long stretch of memory too! I woke up crying in pain!” Huang Jin clung to the corner of the wall, refusing to move.
“That’s because you were under the control of a Primordial Elemental from the other side.” Yin Ren patted the glass again. “We’re still investigating the specific reasons, but I can assure you that you’re safe now.”
“…Oh.” Huang Jin wiped away his tears.
Was he really okay?
No, it couldn’t be that simple. After all, the Great Celestial Master himself was here, and he couldn’t escape even with ten legs. Huang Jin, in a daze, followed Yin Ren out of the room and into a meeting room.
This meeting room was a bit special, with tree roots covering the walls. The areas without roots were filled with deliberately drawn red-brown liquid filled with talismans. There were no windows inside, but also no electrical appliances; only an oil lamp flickered on the table. Along with the eerie surroundings, this place was like a scene from a horror movie.
The people present were all familiar faces.
Li Nian and Fu Xingchuan, the two leaders, and Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo, the two beasts. They were always involved in every troublesome situation.
Lu Xiaohe and Ge Tingting were also present… Well, after all, they were colleagues from Unit 9. Fu Tianyi was there, probably because he was an informant and had collaborated with them before, so it was understandable.
However, sitting in the darkest corner of the long table was a slender woman.
She had tightly bound her hair into a bun, slender eyes and brows, with a hint of pale red at the corners of her eyes, as if she had just been crying. She was securely tied up to the chair with ropes, and each rope was adorned with powerful sealing weapons imbued with a strong Evil Force.
Even though she was tied up like a zongzi, her thoughts were calm and content. Huang Jin had seen that shape of thoughts before in Gengsheng Town.
…Qi Xin.
Huang Jin turned to leave, but in the next instant, the door slammed shut in front of him. Countless tree roots extended rapidly, sealing the door tightly.
“Can I not participate?” He painfully pressed against the wall.
“Unfortunately, no.”
In the flickering fire, Qi Xin stretched her neck nonchalantly and narrowed her slender eyes. As Huang Jin looked at her elongated figure, a wave of goosebumps spread across his back.
“You and that girl have the same brain damage.” Qi Xin pointed her head at Ge Tingting. “Maybe there could be some good use.”
He was wrong, Huang Jin thought dazedly.
Now, he truly had landed himself in big trouble.
“In the following matters, I will find an opportunity to inform the leaders of the Yandu Branch and the Linnan Branch. The situation is highly sensitive, and it should not be disclosed to ordinary employees until countermeasures are determined.”
Li Nian cleared his throat and spoke first.
“Considering the remarks made by Xiang Jiang during his betrayal, combined with the testimony obtained by Yin Ren from Mr. Le, along with the recent activities of Sunken Society… I believe we can ascertain the intentions of the Other Side.”
For the next ten minutes, Huang Jin’s mind went blank.
The Other Side had been providing sources of corruption to Sunken Society, and the creatures from the Other Side had found a way to stably infect humans using Evil Force.
The next step was to fully corrupt humanity, causing the human population to descend into madness to some extent. This would increase the production of various emotional energies and solve the problem of famine caused by the explosive increase of Elementals from the Other Side. For this purpose, the leaders from the Other Side came to the mortal realm.
Among them, “Love” showcased great determination, personally opening up the gap between the Other Side and the mortal realm, facilitating the influence of their companions on the human world.
Should he say it’s touching? After living for so many years, Huang Jin felt the absurdity of being “a bystander listening to agricultural news in the farmland” for the first time.
“No,” he muttered dazedly.
“If Mr. Le is prepared for self-sacrifice… Mr. Qiu is gone, Mr. Le is gone, and Ms. Qi is here—without someone to guide them, how can Love continue with its plans?”
“And after all that has been said, why is ‘Sorrow’ here? By betraying the Other Side, she won’t gain anything!”
In a sense, this could be considered the Primordial Elemental side of “crime against one’s own kind”. Huang Jin pressed his temples frantically. Sharing a room with Qi Xin, he didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly, fearing that his own tears would choke him in the next moment.
“Oh. You haven’t told them yet, have you?” Qi Xin smiled and looked at Yin Ren.
“I haven’t betrayed the Other Side—I came here to restore the true ‘order’.”
……
Shen Mo hummed a tune as he returned to the underground office of Sunken Society.
“Feeling good?”
Wei Huaqian asked indifferently.
“After watching such a great show, I feel really good.” Shen Mo laughed heartily. “Fu Xingchuan is getting old after all. If he were twenty years younger, Xiang Jiang wouldn’t last five seconds against him. But now, Xiao Fu still needs to shed some skin… Xiao Wei, time doesn’t spare anyone.”
Wei Huaqian, with a face full of wrinkles, didn’t even bother to lift his head. “Is that all?”
“Of course not.”
Shen Mo leaned in his young face full of smiles.
“Xiao Wei, we’re in for a great time.”
Kinky Thoughts:
The breakdown of the world of the Other Side is basically in the beginning, there was Satisfaction and Fear. From Satisfaction, other Primordial Elementals were born, while Fear played the role of death.
With the rise of humans and their emotions, certain Primordial Elementals that reflect human emotions became more powerful, such as the main four that was categorized by Shian: Love, Sorrow, Joy, and Disgust (I think Disgust is supposed to replace Hate as the top 4 emotions classified by Shian, so you can think of it as also hate/malice.)
[Side note: The rise of Disgust is most likely attributed to the rise of the internet. With the protection of anonymity, people can type pretty disgusting things online without fearing repercussions. A prime example was all the comments made to the girl who literally escaped from being human trafficked and was still bullied.]
Love, seeing its elemental compatriots dying to Fear, wanted to end the cycle, and thus, joining with the other great Elementals, they managed to defeat Fear and scatter its body through the “gaps”. One such gap fell in the Valley of Bones, where Yin Ren made his residence, and thus that is how Zhong Chengshuo first met Yin Ren… explaining the events of the “dream history arc”.
However, without Fear, and thus death, the Elementals continued to grow unchecked, and famine started. They began to eat each other (forming that food chain). Unable to bear the situation, Love devised a plan to plunge the human world into insanity. When humans become insane, they give off more potent emotions, twice as much as normal, which could feed the never-ending birth of Elementals.
Like always, everything in the previous arcs ties in with the main story… And this is why I love Nian Zhong.
The night sky was covered with dark clouds, pressing down on the forest like a coffin lid. Thunder rumbled as heavy rain poured down, turning the soft soil gradually into mud. Muddy rainwater continuously washed over the cliffs, coating the rocks with a layer of leaping water film.
Even in the pouring rain, high-level monsters still wandered out of their caves. Skeleton soldiers had no flesh and blood so they couldn’t be used as a midnight snack, but Xu Yue couldn’t be sure; maybe some feline monster would play with his skull as a ball.
The heavy rain masked all sounds, making the night destined to be more dangerous. But when one carried the status of “Automatically perish in sunlight”, one really didn’t have many choices.
Amidst the rumbling thunder, Xu Yue’s hit points were rapidly decreasing.
[HP: 60/81]
[HP: 51/81]
[HP: 39/81]
……
At this moment, his head was wrapped in bush branches, rapidly rolling down along the cliff. Xu Yue gritted his teeth, ensuring that the thick bush branches in his mouth wouldn’t be knocked off. Even though he took measures to cushion the fall, the falling damage was still frightening.
But he had no other choice. For a skeleton soldier, this was the only feasible way down the mountain—
After saying goodbye to his neighbors, Xu Yue decides to go to the nearest novice village. “Nearest” was a beautiful term, but it wasn’t actually the case.
The novice village was called “Three Forks Road”. The three kingdoms of Gemino, Inato, and Shidina took the Dragon Mountain Range as their border, and the village of Three Forks Road was at the junction deep within the mountains. As Players leveled up, they could occasionally witness the magnificent sight of dragons flying across the sky.
However, the Dragon’s Lair was on the rugged peaks, while Three Forks Road was in a depression between the mountains. To prevent reckless Players from wandering in, the area around the Dragon’s Lair was full of cliffs, ferocious beasts, and frequently occurring bad weather.
This might be self-inflicted.
Xu Yue disassembled his bones, binding them neatly with vines like a bundle of firewood, then wrapped them in bush branches. He rolled them down the cliff on a gentle slope. When his body arrived at the bottom in pieces, he struggled to reassemble himself again.
He had done this three times tonight. Fortunately, the skeleton didn’t feel pain.
……
[HP: 30/81]
[HP: 16/81]
[HP: 11/81]
The health loss gradually stopped. The bush branches scattered, causing the skull to roll slower and slower among the rocks. The heavy rain washed the skull to a ghastly white, making the will-o’-wisps in Xu Yue’s eye sockets dim significantly.
‘HP is still at 11. Not bad.’ His worst estimate was 9, so everything was still within expectations…
Crack.
Under the impact of rainwater, a rock from the cliff suddenly smashed down, causing the ground to make an ominous sound.
Xu Yue’s vision shook wildly. His skull fell into a freshly formed crevice, bouncing around like a ball on a pool table, knocking about in the narrow rocky path, and falling with the water towards the ground.
[HP: 8/81]
Xu Yue: ???
[HP: 5/81]
Xu Yue: …!
[HP: 3/81]
…Such a death would be too ridiculous!
Everything happened so suddenly that Xu Yue hadn’t had time to think carefully when he fell onto something soft.
[HP: 2/81]
Xu Yue’s hit points finally stop flashing, resting at the blood red “2”. During this time, fate had indeed been unkind to him.
Wait a minute. Why did he have a soft landing?
Just as the question popped up, a pair of hands grasped Xu Yue’s head on both sides and turned his face in a different direction.
Necronomicon creatures possessed night vision. Before Xu Yue saw the person’s face, the first thing he saw was hair—silver white, loose, long hair.
It wasn’t the white hair of an old man; it was smooth and clean, shimmering with the youthful gloss unique to young people. With movement, the long hair gently slid over the person’s chest, its soft reflection slowly swaying as if it had a life of its own.
And above that was the face—a very handsome face.
It wasn’t one that had those cold, furrowed brows, nor was it pretentious and self-important. This face gave the impression of a “handsome friend of a good friend”, making one subconsciously feel friendly and approachable.
The other party looked younger than thirty. His face still showed surprise, and his light golden eyes were fixed on Xu Yue’s… skull.
A Player.
Xu Yue judged immediately.
On this person’s left ear was a golden earring with a small square emblem hanging below it—the game logo of “Tahe World”. The will-o’-wisps in the skull’s eyes were the only source of light here. Xu Yue stared at the earring. The familiar logo flickered softly in the blue light.
Fortunately, in the midst of misfortune, this Player didn’t attack Xu Yue immediately. He only held the skull and examined it carefully with very gentle movements.
Xu Yue was about to cry out for help, but rationality stopped him at the last moment.
In the design of “Tahe World”, Players should wear golden ear cuffs, not earrings.
By touching the ear cuff twice, Players could summon the game’s main interface. Considering aesthetic differences among Players, the artists designed the ear cuffs to be simple and delicate, hardly noticeable. If the Players were willing to pay extra, the ear cuffs could even become invisible.
However, the earring in front of him was ostentatious and tasteless, so Xu Yue couldn’t help but think of an animal ear tag.
It wasn’t time yet. He needed more information before calling for help. Moreover, he didn’t yet know this Player. If the other party’s character wasn’t good, it would only bring more trouble.
As Xu Yue rapidly thought, the white-haired young man casually found a rock and set the skull on it. He seemed to regard Xu Yue as a mere lighting tool.
Xu Yue kept quiet and took the opportunity to look at the Player up and down.
He wore a loose linen shirt with the cross-neck strap undone, and the fabric was covered with dust and grass. The belt was rough, holding an old hunting knife, a water pouch, and a fist-sized cloth bag. The dark trousers were like hunting clothes, slightly more fitting than the shirt, tucked into mud-splattered boots.
His profession was unclear, but his level seemed low. Probably an unlucky fool who had run around after leaving the novice village.
The young man found a relatively dry spot and pulled out a piece of jerky from his bag, eating it leisurely.
This guy sure had guts to eat alone with a skull underground in the dead of night. But what type of Player that person was, or even the gender of the Player behind the handsome appearance, Xu Yue couldn’t discern.
But he had his advantages.
“Nice to meet you, young man.”
After the Player finished the jerky, Xu Yue spoke politely. The voice of the skeleton soldier was husky and unpleasant, sounding particularly grating in the small space.
The man turned his head sharply, like a beast ready to attack. But when he steadied himself, all that remained in his eyes was polite curiosity, as if a talking skull was an everyday sight.
“Hello,” the Player replied succinctly.
“I used to be a mage. As you can see, unfortunately, I’ve become an undead.” Xu Yue fabricated without hesitation. “Please take me back to my hometown. I dream of returning to that beautiful place. Of course, I will reward you handsomely.”
A standard sidequest, not too important but enough to pique curiosity.
Even if the other party couldn’t receive a mission prompt, he would only take it as a hidden fun task. Who would doubt the characters of the game world?
The man was silent for a while. “You say you’re a mage.” He asked conversationally, “What’s your name?”
“Nol,” Xu Yue answered quickly.
“Nol” was a variant of “No. 1”, a name Xu Yue once used for a test character, representing that he was the first Player of “Tahe World”. In fact, he used it as his ID in college. He liked the implication of “first”, and he was indeed always first.
In such a situation, a familiar name was easier to adapt to.
The Player looked at him seriously and was silent for even longer. Xu Yue waited for a good while before receiving the second question.
“I just have to take your head back?”
“No, I accidentally fell down the mountain, and my body is outside,” Xu Yue explained patiently. “You don’t need to go find it specifically. If my head and body are separated for more than thirty minutes, my body can regenerate.”
But once the body was regenerated, his HP would be reduced to 1 as a penalty. For safety reasons, Xu Yue usually didn’t choose this method.
But now, with his HP at 2, it met the standard of desperate measures*.
*Breaking a broken pot (破罐子破摔) Idiom describing a situation where someone has given up on something, so they feel there’s nothing left to lose (AKA in for a penny, in for a pound).
“Indeed, taking me with you might cause some inconveniences. But I can help you deal with some monsters, as I know their weaknesses,” Xu Yue added.
“It seems like you know a lot about ‘monsters’,” the man mused.
“When I was alive, I loved studying various monsters.” This was actually the truth.
“Then you must know about different places in the world. Mage, can I specify what your ‘generous reward’ will be?”
“Specify?” This guy was quite cunning. Few Players would turn around and make demands for a set task.
“Don’t worry, I don’t want money or treasures.” The man smiled. “I’m more interested in your knowledge about monsters and the world.”
‘You’ve come to the right person then,’ Xu Yue thought to himself.
He couldn’t figure out why this person would want such information. Was he an experienced Player in a rush to create a game guide? But he had to admit, it was a good proposal. Providing knowledge within controllable limits was indeed more convenient than dealing with gold coins or rare items.
“Deal,” Xu Yue stated reservedly.
“Then we are companions.”
The young man with white hair smiled as he patted the skull on the head.
“Good evening, Nol. You can call me Teest*.”
*His name written in Chinese is (忒斯特) which is pronounced similar to tester. See the author’s notes for pronunciation.
His voice had hardly faded when a loud noise of rocks crumbling came from nearby, mixed with the sound of a rushing torrent hitting the walls.
Right, it was raining heavily outside, and this was a dried-up underground river.
Water was coming.
Xu Yue—now it should be called “Nol”—was just about to warn. Teest grabbed the skull and ran in the opposite direction of the water noise, into even deeper darkness.
And at the far end of the distant darkness, a pair of muddy eyes slowly opened.
Accompanied by an unreasonable sense of oppression, clear system prompts simultaneously boomed into both their minds.
[You have entered a hidden area.]
[You have triggered a special quest: The Fallen Guardian.]
[Lich Valdorlock is about to awaken. Good luck.]
The author has something to say:
Now, let me provide the phonetic notation for everyone: (忒)斯特 (tè)…
Actually, the first character has this pronunciation XD. Anyway, that’s the end of the prologue! My main characters always meet in the prologue of my stories (?
System: Good luck
Nol: Laughing my ass off. There was no luck to begin with!
The night scene outside the window was pitch black. Xing Conglian and Su Fengzi stood at the window on the second floor of the police station. Xing Conglian lit a cigarette and asked, “Why did you come here?”
Su Fengzi casually inserted one hand into his pocket and rested the other on the windowsill, casually gazing at the night scene. “Your opening remark is quite polite. At least you should address me as Shixiong along with Lin Chen.”
The person beside him still hadn’t responded. Su Fengzi turned his head to look. Xing Conglian remained silent; his face dark, clearly in a bad mood.
He could only helplessly continue, “Mrs. Su feels guilty and worried, thinking she did something wrong. She asked me to come and see if I could help in any way.”
“How is his teacher?”
“Tsk, calling him teacher so smoothly,” Su Fengzi half-jokingly said, then continued, “I don’t know. The old man is at such an age, life and death are predetermined.”
Xing Conglian frowned, and the atmosphere became awkward and silent once again.
Su Fengzi wanted to say something, but Xing Conglian’s sharp and slightly self-mocking gaze swept over. “He knew you would come to clean up the mess for him, so he was at ease and made a bet with Shen Lian.”
Clever people were so troublesome since they couldn’t be deceived with random excuses. But considering Xing Conglian’s mood, Su Fengzi decided to keep quiet. He loosened his tie a bit, saying, “Alright, I want the negotiation video between Lin Chen and Shen Lian.”
“I thought you knew everything,” Xing Conglian said.
“You can’t possibly have control over everything, so how could I know everything?” Su Fengzi retorted to Xing Conglian with a smile.
Xing Conglian’s face darkened once again, and he remained silent. Instead, he took out a pair of headphones and placed his phone on the windowsill, stepping back two steps and leaning against the back wall.
Xing Conglian trusted him so much, probably to give Lin Chen face. Su Fengzi directly put on the headphones, opened the video, and lowered his head to press the play button.
The air was filled with the smell of smoke, and after watching for a while, Su Fengzi couldn’t help but turn around and ask Xing Conglian for a cigarette and a lighter. He anxiously held the cigarette in his hand, lit it, and took a deep drag.
Then he turned to Xing Conglian and said, “Promise me, when he regains consciousness, be gentle with him.”
“Are you certain he will regain consciousness?” Xing Conglian seized the most critical point.
“He won’t do something purely reckless. Shen Lian knows very well that she can only continue playing when Lin Chen is alive and regains consciousness. So, you see, your Consultant Lin has tightly connected their fates using a small technique.” Su Fengzi turned around and looked at the screen, speaking admiringly.
Xing Conglian had finished his cigarette and was now looking at him with an extremely cold gaze. Feeling the gaze behind him, Su Fengzi helplessly turned back and patiently explained to this man who had just been abandoned by his lover and was extremely unhappy. “I’m not just making excuses for Lin Chen. Making a bet with Shen Lian is a classic negotiation technique. If the other party agrees to one small thing, it’s easier for her to agree to the subsequent requests. He did it for the sake of the next arrangement.”
“Do you think I care about all this?” Xing Conglian interrupted him decisively and retorted, “Why he did it, how clever and correct he was, how much he suffered and had no other choice—do you think I care?”
Xing Conglian’s voice was very calm, with a hint of hoarseness as if he had just finished smoking, making it extremely suppressed. The corridor was dimly lit, and Su Fengzi didn’t know how to respond.
“What do you care about then?” Su Fengzi asked involuntarily.
Xing Conglian lowered his head slightly, and his eyelids lifted. His gaze was dark and deep as he looked at him. Just when Su Fengzi thought Xing Conglian wouldn’t answer, he heard him say, “I care about him.”
The complete meaning of this sentence was that even if Lin Chen didn’t care about him, he still cared about him.
Su Fengzi’s breath hitched; he didn’t expect Xing Conglian to be so straightforward and direct. Thinking about how difficult it must have been for Xing Conglian to restrain himself throughout the negotiation process, he could only take another deep drag of his cigarette and say, “There are too many difficulties in this world, and unfortunately, he encountered some particularly tough ones.”
As if confirming something, just as he finished speaking, Xing Conglian’s phone rang.
Su Fengzi looked at the screen with the words “Dr. Wang from Tzu Chi Hospital” and instantly understood what was happening.
But Xing Conglian reacted even faster.
The police captain stepped forward and quickly answered the phone, even forgetting about the fact that it was connected to his headphones.
On the other end of the line was a police officer or a doctor arranged by Xing Conglian at the hospital, anxiously informing him that Lin Chen’s condition had deteriorated after falling ill, and the first treatment plan had failed, among other things.
Xing Conglian just listened quietly, and for a moment, he seemed helpless and desperate.
Su Fengzi silently took off his headphones, and Xing Conglian also hung up the phone.
They stood facing each other, and Xing Conglian spoke first. “I’m going to the hospital.”
“Then I’ll go to Zhourui Pharmaceuticals.” Su Fengzi turned around and waved his hand at Xing Conglian.
“Zhourui?”
“You didn’t really think I came to help because of Mrs. Su, did you?” Su Fengzi turned back and smiled.
……
Xing Conglian didn’t care about what Su Fengzi was going to do. He quickly drove to Tzu Chi Hospital.
Located in the southeast corner of Hongjing, the hospital primarily dealt with mental illnesses and psychological problems, and it was the treatment location that Lin Chen himself had chosen while still maintaining his sanity.
Late at night, some patients fell into a deep sleep after taking medication, while others refused to take their medication and fought a grueling battle against the mental torment that normal people couldn’t experience, such as hallucinations and anxiety.
But Lin Chen chose to suffer the pain of the latter.
In the ward, two doctors were securing the struggling patient to the bed with restraints.
Xing Conglian stood by the window, and the soundproofing effect of the hospital was so good that he felt like he was watching a silent film, quiet and illusory.
The diagnosis room was partially covered by medical curtains, creating a dim and gloomy atmosphere. Lin Chen’s upper body was completely obscured by a light blue medical curtain. He saw some hazy lights and shadows. Lin Chen arched his neck in pain, and his shoulders were forced down as a three-finger-wide restraint tightly pressed against his shoulder, securing him firmly to the bed.
Next came his arms. The restraints were ruthlessly fastened around Lin Chen’s elbows, followed by his wrists. The doctor’s movements were skilled and unrelenting.
Lin Chen’s hand was exposed outside the gaps of the medical curtain. Through those openings, he could catch a glimpse of his own hand—the hand he was so intimately familiar with. However, at that moment, Lin Chen’s fingers contorted into twisted shapes, completely beyond his control, as if reflecting his current state of anguish and torment.
Xing Conglian marveled at the fact that he could even stand there. It truly felt like a miracle.
The doctor produced a new dosage of medication, preparing to administer it to Lin Chen via injection.
Perhaps due to the unnerving silence surrounding them, there were moments when he felt as if his soul was splitting into two or even multiple entities.
One part of him barged into the ward, frantically driving everyone else out, gripping Lin Chen tightly and pulling him close, just like the desperate and passionate men portrayed in television dramas. Meanwhile, another part of him existed in a different space, where he suddenly realized that he had experienced a similar scene before.
It was as if they were in a rainforest filled with the acrid smell of decay, obscured by the dense smoke of battle. Lin Chen stood on the brink of death, and Xing Conglian exerted all his strength to pull him back.
He held Lin Chen in his arms, making it clear that he wouldn’t hesitate to threaten him. If Lin Chen ever prioritized the safety of others over his own again, Xing Conglian vowed to use a chain to bind him, preventing Lin Chen from taking a single step outside ever again.
He vaguely remembered Lin Chen expressing how much he missed him at that time, or something along those lines. It evoked both sweetness and heartache within him.
However, he soon realized that his supposed threats held no power over Lin Chen when similar situations arose. Lin Chen would always act magnanimously, stepping forward with great valor, while subjecting him to the same pain and sense of helplessness in an extraordinarily cruel manner.
Such moments had occurred before, and undoubtedly, they would happen again.
In a fleeting moment, Xing Conglian felt as if someone was speaking to him, suggesting that breaking up with Lin Chen might be for the best. After all, Lin Chen was strong and didn’t need his protection. His mere presence seemed to burden him.
That voice must have belonged to the most agonizing part of his own psyche. Alternatively, it could have been a result of auditory hallucinations triggered by the opening and closing of the ward door as the doctor went in and out.
In any case, within this brief span of time, right at the entrance of the ward, everything he experienced felt completely unreal.
He could still hear Lin Chen’s voice—a voice he never knew Lin Chen possessed.
That high-pitched, ear-piercing scream seemed to transcend human capabilities, as if his vocal cords had been forcibly torn apart and haphazardly reassembled, rendering the words indistinct. Nonetheless, he could still barely decipher that Lin Chen was shouting phrases like “get away” with an extreme sense of anguish.
Lin Chen’s hand flailed desperately, as if trying to break free from the bed. However, the doctor’s hand held the syringe firmly and relentlessly pierced Lin Chen’s arm. The needle penetrated deep, and the liquid was injected, gradually calming the struggling figure on the bed.
The doctor emerged from the door, as if intending to say something to him. However, he could only barely see the movement of their lips without hearing any sound.
Only then did he recall why he was standing there.
A few hours earlier, when they had come out of the Zhourui Building, the crimson glow had faded, leaving only a faint line of light on the horizon.
Lin Chen lay in the ambulance, requesting to be alone with him for a while.
His subordinates had thought that Lin Chen probably wanted to report some confidential information or make final arrangements to him. But only he knew that it was a moment of Lin Chen’s remorse and desire to make amends.
Sitting in the vehicle, Lin Chen held his hand and spoke to him with a gentle and affectionate tone, saying, “I’m really sorry. Regardless of the circumstances, you have to walk through this with me. I also need to receive treatment like an ordinary patient, to see if conventional psychiatric medications can effectively address the mental disturbance caused by this drug. You need to focus on your work and handle things well, but also remember to come and visit me.”
There was nothing wrong with that statement—logical and clear.
If it weren’t for the lack of reflective film on the ambulance window, he believed that at that moment, Lin Chen would have kissed him.
And he just watched Lin Chen, feeling that something was off, but unable to articulate why.
In a dim and dilapidated residence, the clock hand pointed to five o’clock.
A pair of bony hands trembled as they held the mouse, rapidly clicking on the hidden software icon buried deep within a folder.
After a moment, a crude image appeared on the screen.
It was the kind of low-resolution graphics seen in primitive pixelated games. Black background, red lines, and a simple square-shaped cottage in the center of the screen. In the bottom right corner, there was a cluster of golden flowers. The interior of the cottage appeared empty at first glance, but upon closer inspection, one could spot a pitiful silver coin in the corner.
Upon seeing this, a look of despair covered his face, and his trembling lips revealed rotten teeth.
He desperately covered his mouth and looked back down at the bottom corner of the screen. There, six lines of text written in the lingua franca of the United Nations filled the space, and among them was a line in Chinese:
Account balance: 1 bitcoin.
The occupant of the room stood up aimlessly and began walking. He bumped into the coffee table in the middle of the room, overturning it. The remaining white powder of a drug on the table dispersed into the air. He hurriedly crouched down to clean it up, but there was so little left that after a couple of licks, there was nothing left.
This caused him to stand up again, unable to resist gnawing at his own wrist.
The creaking of the wooden floor grew increasingly urgent, echoing the sounds of a distressed bed behind the partition. The entire space became more and more restless. Unable to bear it any longer, he walked to the table and picked up a syringe, intending to pierce it into his temple.
At that moment, a light tinkling sound came from the speakers.
He thought he was experiencing auditory hallucinations and searched aimlessly for the source of the sound. The room remained dark and chaotic, and he didn’t even notice the silver coin slowly descending from the ceiling of the cottage on the computer screen.
With the syringe pressed against his temple, he could end his own life with just a little force.
Suddenly, that small silver coin seemed to trigger something, and numerous shining silver dots fell from above. Those dots grew larger and larger, fluttering down like snowflakes and eventually turning into piles of silver coins at the bottom of the screen.
Likewise, six lines of text slowly descended and hovered above the stack of money.
The occupant of the room grinned, revealing bright red lips and teeth yellowed to the point of blackening. He laughed maniacally, silently.
Round Two: The target is still alive. The game continues.
……
In a glamorous and decadent bar, a blue-eyed girl with green hair lazily sat on the sofa. The expensive red wine in her glass was reduced to a mere trace.
This themed bar was entirely in a distorted gothic style. The soaring electronic music and the intertwining beams of cross-fading lights filled the air with the scent of alcohol and drugs. The haze of smoke drifted through the air.
The girl’s gaze wandered vaguely over her companions, and she reached out to pull a chubby middle-aged man beside her. With an air of sensuality, she bit down on his earlobe. Strange tastes of the wealthy were nothing out of the ordinary.
Onstage, the stripper had reached the most thrilling stage of the performance, and the sound system by the glass stage exploded. But in the next moment, the girl’s expression underwent a peculiar change. It was because her phone emitted a strange and eerie sound, both resembling agony and boundless pleasure. The girl leaned forward abruptly, grabbing her phone eagerly and tapping on an icon.
A crude pixelated image flashed on the screen. It was a vault, with countless coins piled up like mountains. However, soon a swarm of black bugs crawled in, devouring the coins with abandon. At the same time, the number below was fiercely changing— from eight digits to seven, then to six, five… until it became just two digits.
The black bugs disappeared, leaving only a meager few dozen coins in the vault, scattered haphazardly on the floor, looking extremely shabby—especially compared to before.
The man stared with wide eyes, disbelief evident on his face.
Prompts appeared in six different languages—
Round 2: The Target Is Alive. To be continued…
The girl grabbed her phone and slammed it forcefully onto the ground.
The carpet was thick, and the phone was of good quality, so it only bounced a few times before coming to a stop.
Beneath the pixelated screen, a clump of equally crude golden flowers swayed as if drifting with the wind.
……
In a luxurious building, a singer emerged from the recording studio, immediately surrounded by a group of people, showering him with attention and inquiries. The singer responded with a gentle smile, and the faces of those in front of him lit up with joy.
Five minutes later, the singer entered the restroom on the same floor. As soon as he closed the door, a look of extreme weariness appeared in his eyes reflected in the mirror.
He glanced disdainfully behind him, leaned against the sink, took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.
Amidst the swirling smoke, a sudden sound resonated—a strange and eerie sound. The singer froze and took out his phone.
After a moment, he frantically ruffled his own hair, waved his hand, and forcefully smashed the phone against the mirror in front of him!
In the loud crash, the mirror shattered into pieces, and the fragments briefly reflected the last image on the phone—
Behind the six lines of text in different languages, in an empty and crude room, the only gold was the gently trembling petal below.
……
In an inconspicuous noodle shop in the city, the sky had completely darkened.
A ceiling fan hung overhead, whirring as it blew air. White porcelain tiles covered half of the wall, and a circle of tables was arranged facing the wall, separated by partitions.
Most of the customers were focused on their bowls of noodles, paying little attention to the content playing on the LCD TV. For the solitary office workers, having to share a table with strangers after a tiring day of work felt like torture. Therefore, despite the average taste of the food here, the owner’s layout was unusually considerate.
The TV was placed directly opposite the kitchen, broadcasting news of the police escorting a suspect.
“According to our sources, the criminal suspect Shen Lian was successfully captured by the Hongjing police this evening. The police spokesperson declined to reveal any details related to the case…”
The towering figures of the surrounding officers obstructed the view of the slender woman in the middle, her face covered with a black blindfold, making it impossible for the reporters to capture anything.
The volume of the small noodle shop’s TV was set very low, barely drowning out the sound of slurping noodles.
In the footage, the police car departed from the square of the Zhourui Building flashed away, while the reporters’ camera flashes seemed to illuminate the night sky.
However, the man sitting in the corner of the noodle shop didn’t raise his head to watch the news. His laptop was still open, and his fingers tapped on the keyboard, resembling an office worker diligently working overtime.
He lifted the vinegar bottle and poured some into his bowl, revealing a cuff of a shirt sleeve and slightly antiquated sapphire cufflinks.
At that moment, the owner happened to bring a bowl of spicy oil-splashed noodles. The busy customers finally looked up, casually glancing at the TV but paying careful attention to the owner. With a touch of humility and respect, the man asked, “How’s business been lately?”
The owner wiped his hands on the glaringly white apron and shook his head helplessly. “It’s been a disaster.”
The customer opened his mouth, slurping the noodles, and glanced at the computer screen, sighing with a hint of regret. “It’s truly unexpected.”
By that time, the owner had already walked into the kitchen and didn’t hear this remark.
Meanwhile, a new customer entered the shop, loudly requesting two bowls of spicy oil-splashed noodles.
In the partially open kitchen, a large pot on the coal stove floated with animal parts. The owner held an iron ladle and scooped up a spoonful of blood-red oil, pouring it over the noodles with a graceful and traditional elegance, creating a tantalizing sizzling sound that filled the space.
“But it’s not bad. Quite interesting,”
The owner murmured, bowing slightly, as if talking to himself or responding to something.
……
It was night.
Outside the Hongjing Police Station, the scene was bustling with cars and people, as if a market was set up. Whether it was due to the rumored effects of the medication or the significant activities in the city today, even small fights and altercations were more numerous than usual. What was even more terrifying was the continuous arrival of officers from various levels and investigators from related departments across the country who came to assist with the investigation. Even clerks like Zhang Xiaolong were forced to work overtime, handling reception and registration tasks at the front desk.
The summer night was still hot. People came and went in the front hall, but there was a silence in the air that was completely different from the heat. Footsteps were subdued, conversations were rare, and the police officers in their uniforms had solemn and serious expressions, as if mourning something.
Zhang Xiaolong was well aware of what all this was about, and it felt like something was stuck in her throat, making it difficult for her to speak. Fortunately, she was busy and could temporarily avoid thinking about these matters. She directed a department head from the Drug Administration who had arrived overnight to the relevant office, and just as she did, the telephone rang. She hurriedly picked up the receiver, taking out a notepad to jot down the information conveyed over the phone.
At the same time, another phone started ringing. Zhang Xiaolong had a pen and paper in her hand and was still recording when she suddenly didn’t know what to do. Just as she was feeling quite distressed, a hand reached out and effortlessly answered the phone for her.
Thinking it was a colleague helping out, Zhang Xiaolong continued to lower her head and write down the information from the phone call. She wrote two lines and suddenly felt that the voice beside her wasn’t quite right. The male voice sounded too relaxed and pleasant, even with a hint of bored leisure. This made the policewoman, who had been serious all day, feel uncomfortable.
“Well, you should contact the Environmental Protection Bureau directly.”
The other end of the line was quickly hung up, and Zhang Xiaolong even heard a protesting voice from it.
She suddenly looked up and saw a completely unfamiliar young man standing in front of her, smiling meaningfully.
For about three to five seconds, Zhang Xiaolong was completely taken aback, displaying a normal stunned reaction upon seeing a handsome young man.
The young man was dressed in a simple black shirt, matching trousers, and leather shoes of the same color. His tie was slightly loosened, secured by a sleek silver tie clip in the middle. Although this young man appeared a bit disheveled, his clothing and the expression on his face when he nodded were elegantly appropriate.
Zhang Xiaolong opened her mouth, intending to ask a question like “Who are you”, but, to her surprise, before she could speak, the person introduced himself.
“Hello, I’m the new psychological consultant for the Hongjing Municipal Bureau.”
Su Fengzi’s voice was loud, and many people around heard it, casting incredulous glances at them.
Once again, Zhang Xiaolong felt as if she had been struck by lightning. Her first reaction was anger. Why did they bring in a replacement so soon after something happened to Consultant Lin? This was going too far and showed a lack of consideration.
She took a deep breath, steadying her emotions, and picked up the office phone to find someone. She dialed two numbers but suddenly realized something was off. How could the Criminal Investigation Department find a replacement for Consultant Lin so quickly?
She looked up in shock, glanced at the person in front of her, and cautiously asked, “May I ask who you are and where you were transferred from?”
The young man seemed to have anticipated that she would ask such a question. He took out a cardholder from his pocket and pulled out a card, placing it on the table and pushing it towards her.
Zhang Xiaolong lowered her head somewhat slowly and saw that the card was written in simple Song font: [Renowned Writer: Su Fengzi.]
Below were densely packed words arranged under quotation marks, which she realized were the titles of his works, mostly something like <The General’s Spoiled Empress—Don’t Run Away from the Overbearing President>.
The policewoman was immediately enraged but still had to suppress her anger and explain to the person politely, “Sir, the police station is busy with official matters. This is not the place for jokes.”
The young writer named Su Fengzi remained unfazed and continued to push the card toward her with a polite yet non-negotiable attitude, saying, “Call Xing Conglian and read him the contents on the card.”
In reality, Zhang Xiaolong could have refused, but at that moment, she felt that the person in front of her was somewhat familiar, which made her, inexplicably, pick up the phone.
She briefly explained the situation at the front desk, but the captain on the other end of the line fell into silence.
Zhang Xiaolong couldn’t help but prompt him, and it was only then that Xing Conglian said, “Tell him to wait,” before hanging up.
Although the captain’s instructions weren’t particularly clear, it seemed like he wanted the other person to stay. Zhang Xiaolong hung up the phone, and the young man was already carelessly leaning on the front desk, his phoenix eyes raised slightly as he casually scanned the lifeless lobby. His gaze was probing, yet he had shed the carefree attitude, appearing gentle and profound.
Xing Conglian arrived quickly.
When he and his team came down from upstairs, everyone in the lobby raised their heads, and the atmosphere cooled a few degrees.
“Captain Xing…”
Voices from other officers greeting Xing Conglian intermittently sounded.
Wang Chao froze on the stairs, pointing at Su Fengzi with an expression as if he had seen a ghost, but his eyes were red.
At this moment, the young man finally looked up and glanced at the stairs, his first words being, “What’s going on? Did Lin Chen die?”
Su Fengzi’s words instantly silenced the entire lobby. All eyes turned toward him with restrained expressions that were filled with anger. But the young writer seemed oblivious.
The first one to react was Wang Chao. The young man quickly ran down the stairs and pointed his finger at Su Fengzi, cursing, “What the hell are you talking about!”
Su Fengzi looked at Wang Chao’s pointing finger, reached out to shake his hand, and then casually ruffled Wang Chao’s hair, leisurely saying, “Tsk, since you didn’t hit me, it means Lin Chen hasn’t played himself to death yet. He really has some ability.”
Wang Chao was even more furious. He pushed Su Fengzi’s hand away, but his language skills were no match for Su Fengzi’s. He could only sulk in anger.
“Please respect Consultant Lin!” Zhang Xiaolong had been watching from the side and couldn’t help but speak up.
“How am I disrespecting him?” Su Fengzi didn’t even look at her directly, casually asking.
“You said Consultant Lin died!” Zhang Xiaolong said seriously, realizing that her words didn’t hold much weight in the current situation. But after everything Lin Chen had done, his successor turned out to be this kind of person, which left Zhang Xiaolong with a lump in her throat.
“That’s because all of you are wearing mournful faces, as if Lin Chen is already gone.” Su Fengzi slightly bowed and pinched Wang Chao’s cheek, saying, “Why are you crying?”
“So, you mean we should be happy?” Another officer who had been silently standing by spoke up. “When Consultant Lin made that kind of exchange with his life to ensure the survival of the suspect, are we supposed to be happy about Consultant Lin’s self-sacrifice?”
Su Fengzi pondered for a moment and questioned the other person. “What’s your name?”
Probably assuming that Su Fengzi was here to take over Lin Chen’s position, the officer stood at attention and answered, “Zhang Xingguo.”
Su Fengzi raised his thumb slightly and pointed casually at the officer who stood like a rock, asking Zhang Xiaolong, “Who is he?”
Zhang Xiaolong replied solemnly, “He’s Deputy Captain Zhang, who has received two individual second-class merits and one collective third-class merit*.”
*Clarity: These are basically medals awarded to individuals and units in the Chinese military. The reward levels are divided into 5 levels (going from high to low): 1. Honorary, 2. First-class merit, 3. Second-class merit, 4. Third-class merit, and 5. Regular awards. || To be awarded a second-class merit, he must’ve made important contributions, while a third-class merit means he made outstanding achievements or great contributions.
“Oh… a hero, I see.” Su Fengzi’s voice was relaxed and abrupt. “So, Zhang Xingguo, after being a police officer for so many years, what’s the most dangerous situation you’ve encountered?”
This question left Zhang Xingguo in silence.
“Deputy Captain Zhang has handled the 721 major gang robbery case!”
“Was it dangerous?”
“We seized 22 firearms on the spot, with over a thousand rounds of ammunition,” Zhang Xiaolong answered.
“Oh, then Zhang Xingguo, when you faced the suspects with a gun, did you make sure you could survive?”
“No,” the middle-aged officer broke his silence and spoke again.
“Then why did you risk your life to do these things?”
Zhang Xingguo saluted once again and answered, “It’s my duty.”
“Oh, so risking your life is your duty, but Lin Chen doesn’t have his duty?”
Zhang Xingguo was momentarily at a loss for words and could only say, “Consultant Lin is not a front-line officer.”
Su Fengzi finally stood up straight, looking at Zhang Xingguo and seemingly addressing everyone. “Even if he’s not a front-line officer, I know that negotiation experts often say, ‘Let me exchange this hostage in your custody.’ Do they have a hundred percent certainty that they will survive when they say those words? I don’t think so. The same thing happens every day. Why does it make Lin Chen appear particularly worthy of respect and make you all so uncomfortable?”
“But, but A’Chen Gege is different!” Unable to hold back any longer, Wang Chao shouted loudly.
Seeing the teenager reach into his pocket, take out a candy, tear open the wrapper, and swiftly stuff it into his mouth, Zhang Xiaolong couldn’t help but pinch his face and laugh. “Young man, you’re so good at getting caught up in trivial matters. Is it because you don’t have a girlfriend?”
Although Su Fengzi was teasing, the entire hall fell into silence once again, with no one speaking.
Su Fengzi glanced at Xing Conglian, who was standing in a high place, and then looked at everyone present. He said, “If any of you wouldn’t make the same choice as Lin Chen, please step forward.”
Seconds ticked by, and Zhang Xiaolong looked up. In the vast hall filled with dozens of people, not a single person moved.
As he wandered through the world, Shi Jingzhi rarely empathized with others. Other people’s joys and sorrows felt like they were behind a veil, coming and going, and he couldn’t see them clearly. His heart was unaware of spring, and he always rushed through life, only seeing the superficial desires of people, unable to perceive their joys, anger, and sorrows.
However, in this moment, his shell was stripped away by the scene before him, causing him some genuine pain.
If the roles were reversed, would he be left behind? What about Yin Ci?
Were worldly attachments such painful things?
Su Si in the illusion of the inner demon cried in such agony, and Shi Jingzhi didn’t know if he cried for his parents’ deception or if he faintly sensed what he had truly given up.
“He never told me… He could have hidden me away back then. Why couldn’t he leave with Taiheng?” Yan Qing’s voice trembled, and his face lacked any trace of color.
Shi Jingzhi remained silent for a long time. “Even if he left with Taiheng a few days later, would you survive? …Is he willing to abandon his only playmate but not his only relative?”
In the world, there was only one person who stumbled after the carriage, telling him that it wasn’t a good place, and he shouldn’t go.
In just one sunrise and sunset, Su Si gained another relative, leaving only this one remaining relative.
The black snake hovered in mid-air with its head slightly lowered. Its killing intent weakened, and its state seemed somewhat trance-like.
Yan Qing made an effort to move in its direction and spoke with a bitter tone. “But I would rather die than become his inner demon.”
Shi Jingzhi waved his flag and blocked Yan Qing. This time, he didn’t deliberately show any gestures, but his every move exuded a leader’s aura. “Now that we have finally stabilized, don’t move for now… His inner demon might not be you.”
The two inner demons entangled, and the scene changed once again.
Su Si had grown taller, and Yan Qing’s cheeks had filled out, giving him a healthy and refreshing look. Both of them wore simple yet clean clothes, seemingly not in the village. It was dim all around, clearly night.
[Uncle Tan praised my skills today.] Su Si rolled up his sleeves, showing off his slender arms. [He said that when I grow up a bit more, he will officially take me as his apprentice. But I don’t want to learn how to butcher pigs. When I become one the Greats in the future, everyone will have pride on their faces.]
Yan Qing had a childish face, but there seemed to be wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. [First, take off your outer garment, and I’ll soak it with today’s clothes. Later, Grandma Tan will want to sleep, and I have to go wash her feet and change her clothes… Uncle Tan took us in only half a year ago, kindly letting us stay at his house. You should still restrain yourself.]
Su Si chuckled. [You don’t understand. I am a great talent who can enter Taiheng.]
[They say the earlier you start martial arts training, the better. If you really want to go, we can head to Yidu tomorrow and take a look at Taiheng.] Yan Qing hesitated for a moment before replying earnestly.
[They are hunting down Yan family members everywhere. If you really enter Taiheng, won’t you have to pretend to be blind every day? Besides, what if you can’t get in? I can’t just leave you outside. We’re still young now, a few more years won’t matter—at least until you’re old enough to take care of yourself.]
They were the same age, but Yan Qing had suffered from malnutrition for a long time. Compared to Su Si, he still looked like a six- or seven-year-old child. When Su Si hit a sore spot, Yan Qing became so angry that he burst out. [I’ll be eleven next month! When I grow up, I’ll definitely be taller than you.]
He thought for a moment and found an excellent way to retaliate. [A’Si, did you memorize today’s lesson? If you want to become one the Greats in the future, you can’t be illiterate.]
Su Si immediately whined. [Hey, little brat, you’re so young, how can you sound like an old Confucian scholar?]
Shi Jingzhi instantly realized—eleven years old; that meant it was ten years ago.
According to Yan Qing, after Yan Qing’s father died, the two of them made a pact to escape from the village. At this moment, it was the year when they relied on each other for a few years before they completely lost contact.
Seeing Yan Qing with a serious face taking out a book, Su Si’s head spun. He glanced around and held onto his coat tightly. [I have to go out tonight. There’s a market on the north side of the town, and it’s bustling.]
Yan Qing’s expression changed. [You promised me this morning that you wouldn’t go out tonight.]
[Those apricot pits you play with? San Zi, usually it’s fine, but tonight is important, so don’t worry about whether it’s auspicious or not.]
Su Si played with his money pouch, intentionally making the copper coins inside jingle. [There are many cheap things at the market. I’ll buy you some candy.]
[Don’t go or take me with you.]
[If you leave, who will take care of Grandma Tan? If she’s unhappy, Uncle Tan will get angry, and we won’t have any good things to eat.]
After a series of threats and temptations, Yan Qing still didn’t buy it, tightly gripping Su Si’s clothes. [You promised me not to go out. I have a bad feeling, really.]
[If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you pretend to be blind and play outside. I’ll definitely give that old monk who taught you fortune-telling a beating when I see him.] Su Si gritted his teeth. [Alright, alright, it’s just a few apricot pits—a little trick to fool people. Look how scared you are.]
Su Si carefully pried open Yan Qing’s fingers. [I’ll be back soon. It’s almost the Lunar New Year, and everything nearby is expensive. It’s rare to catch the market…]
Yan Qing pursed his lips, and the two of them stood in a stalemate for a while.
At that time, Su Si was a head taller than Yan Qing, and Yan Qing felt the pressure of his gaze. Under Su Si’s relaxed gaze, Yan Qing’s expression shifted from determination to hesitation and finally to a lack of confidence, as if he were wondering if he was being unreasonable.
Su Si rubbed his head forcefully, seizing the opportunity. [Stop being difficult. Be good, or else I’ll get angry.]
Yan Qing wrinkled his face and finally hesitantly let go. [Then, then come back earlier.]
After Su Si left, Yan Qing stared blankly at his own hand, slowly biting his lip.
He quickly attended to the elderly woman, helping her wash and get ready for sleep. Then he sat on the doorstep, anxiously waiting for Su Si to come back. The night gradually grew darker, but Yan Qing didn’t move from the doorstep. He stared intently at the entrance gate, tightly clutching the apricot pits, his thin fist turning pale.
At that moment, the adult version of Yan Qing by Shi Jingzhi’s side trembled, and the eyeballs in the shackles of flesh rolled wildly. Shi Jingzhi furrowed his brow slightly, as if realizing something.
That day, Su Si never returned.
Yan Qing tearfully waited through the night, waiting until morning. He searched repeatedly near the town, but he found nothing. Afraid that Su Si couldn’t find him, he obediently returned to the Tan family and waited.
Unfortunately, without Su Si, the naturally powerful helper, Butcher Tan didn’t want to keep a “blind” servant boy all by himself. Not long after, Yan Qing was kicked out of the house.
He stood there, holding his belongings, lost in thought for a long time. Finally, he turned around and walked alone towards the direction of Taiheng.
On the other side, Su Si’s inner demon filled in the missing pieces of Yan Qing’s memory—
That night, Su Si took out the majority of his savings and bought a crude longevity lock at the market. He specifically asked the merchant to wrap it in red paper and carefully put it in his pocket.
However, before he had taken a few steps, the carts and donkeys jumbled together, and the merchants clung to their goods, pushing and trampling each other. People screamed loudly, and the firelight reddened the night.
The Chigou Sect and the Ling Sect clashed nearby. Their members fought without respite, and the conflict spread all the way to the market.
After gaining the upper hand, the Chigou Sect eliminated the Ling Sect completely. While cleaning up the battlefield, one of them noticed the dazed Su Si amidst the pile of corpses. He lifted Su Si up and said, “This kid has a good face and a strong build. He’s good material for killing.”
Su Si, with his rough clothes and having rolled in the mud and blood, clearly wasn’t from a wealthy family, making him an easy target.
As he was lifted up, Su Si regained consciousness and immediately struggled with all his might. Unfortunately, the Chigou Sect wasn’t like the Taiheng Sect, and they didn’t bother with reasoning. With one slap, when Su Si opened his eyes again, he had already been taken far away, not knowing how many miles.
The surroundings grew increasingly dark, gradually losing its coherence. Horrible scenes emerged, with countless faces mocking or in agony. Colors merged into a bloody mess, and various things twisted together, forming a giant elderly face.
The elderly person looked down from above with an oppressive feeling that was suffocating.
The black snake hung its head, curling up into a ball.
Shi Jingzhi recognized that face. It was the face of Matron Wuxue. Within this uncontrollable inner demon, Matron Wuxue’s voice remained hoarse and unpleasant. [I have never been wrong about people. With your disposition, you are destined to join our Divine Sect. If you want to run, go ahead. Escaping will be considered your ability…]
The distorted inner demon scene became even more twisted, nearly reaching the point of collapse. The images constantly shifted, becoming increasingly difficult to discern—
Su Si really did escape. He trained diligently, breaking through guards time and time again, fleeing to the darkest and filthiest corners of the martial world.
But as the leading demonic sect, the Chigou Sect wasn’t to be trifled with. For every inch the righteous path rises, the demonic path follows suit*. Su Si could only evade capture for two or three months at a time before being captured again. But Matron Wuxue didn’t mind his defiance; to her, it seemed like an effective training method.
*(魔高一尺，道高一丈) It’s a proverb that means that as goodness and righteousness become stronger, evil and corruption also grow in response.
Caught, then escaped. Escaped, then caught. Su Si had been on the run for ten years, without respite.
[For so many years, haven’t you seen enough of the filthy corners of the martial world? Your foolish friend and that so-called dream of Taiheng are about to become your obsessions… Well, if you give up so easily, you don’t deserve that position…]
[Kid, you were personally chosen by me as our young Patriarch. One day, you will willingly return…]
Hearing these words, Yan Qing stood frozen in place. His inner demon was completely suppressed, while the darkness from Su Si’s side surged overwhelmingly.
On the brink of collapse within the inner demon scene, Matron Wuxue’s voice grew louder, resembling thunder above and mountains crumbling.
[In this world, there is no such thing as karmic retribution. Ultimately, good is not rewarded, and evil is not punished. Look up three feet, and you won’t find gods or spirits. Act wantonly, as you should. You should understand this better than anyone else…]
Scars were left on the human heart. In the wickedness of the world, once one experienced it firsthand, the shattered innocence and expectations could never be pieced back together.
Ten years was enough to grind a person into dust.
And in the orthodox martial world, it mostly relied on pure-hearted dedication, with an unwavering sincerity that showed no cracks. No matter how young Su Si was, he had witnessed too much malice, and uncontrollable darkness and suspicion were ingrained in his bones. He was destined to have no connection with Taiheng again.
The black snake let out a long hiss as tears of blood streamed down its scales. It suddenly went mad and slammed into the rocks, as if trying to scrape off its own scales. Unfortunately, after the frenzy, the scales remained firmly attached, and it only gained several bloody wounds.
Shi Jingzhi no longer protected Yan Qing. He looked at the gigantic face formed by countless images with a blank expression.
Bound by resentment, with no master to direct it, it devoured its own heart.
What exactly did Su Si’s “ignorance” mean? Was it an inability to distinguish between good and evil, or was it a fading of hot blood, yet still unwilling to let go of the delusion of “clear justice”, unwilling to sink into the path of evil?
Yan Qing grabbed the soil on the mountaintop with both hands. The mountaintop was littered with sharp stones, causing his ten fingers to bleed, tears streaming down his face.
The shackles of flesh finally stopped attacking Su Si. They entangled together, turning their murderous intent towards their master.
Above them were withered faces cast from the wickedness of the world, while all around them was a network of flesh shackles adorned with crimson ghostly eyes, resembling a scene from hell. Blood and tears flowed on the ground, creating a chaotic mess. Amidst the shattered cracks of the disintegrating inner demon scene, a faint hint of blue sky still shone through.
Pure and transparent, yet utterly ruthless.
Shi Jingzhi leaned on the flagpole, feeling a sudden suffocation.
“You are not his inner demon. He resents the distant heavenly mandate*.”
*Clarity: Basically, he resents fate/destiny.
Shi Jingzhi murmured without looking at Yan Qing.
In this treacherous world, Yan Qing wasn’t Su Si’s inner demon. He was more like his last trace of innocence.
“Yan Qing, you are the opposite… What angers you is not the injustice of the heavens, but your own powerlessness.”
From the beginning until now, even though he had been involved in every twist of fate with Su Si, he couldn’t salvage anything. Ten years had passed, the world had changed, but it still retained its former appearance.
The ghost eyes of the Yan family were still detestable, and Yan Qing himself was still a rat crossing the street, barely surviving in the guise of being blind. He had entered Taiheng, the most just place in the world, but life was still an uphill battle, exhausting all his efforts in superficially embellishing peace.
His anger had ignited over a decade ago and had never extinguished. Year after year, the resentment turned inward, becoming an entrenched illness.
Upon hearing Shi Jingzhi’s words, Yan Qing wiped away his tears haphazardly and suddenly burst into laughter.
Treading on his own inner demon, he stood up unsteadily, as if losing his sense of pain. Red eyes burst open one after another under his feet, making a squelching sound like thick blood.
Yan Qing approached the severely injured black snake and gently embraced it.
The flesh shackles surrounded them from all sides, binding them together, rendering them immobile.
“In the end, birds of a feather flock together.” Yan Qing closed his eyes and embraced the snake’s body. “You and I are the same, resigned to our fate long ago, yet still unwilling… A’Si, from now on, I will accompany you.”
They were both still alive. Even if it meant struggling hopelessly, they didn’t need to continue alone.
The scales of the black snake finally loosened a bit, shedding its black scales to reveal Su Si’s bloodied upper body. The flesh shackles remained still, not retracting, but no longer attacking indiscriminately.
Shi Jingzhi sighed and slowly lowered the flagpole in his hand.
He approached the two individuals, both on the verge of death, and looked at Su Si, covered in blood, with his eyes half-closed. “Su Si, can you still hear me?”
Su Si raised his eyes and weakly nodded.
Shi Jingzhi’s face showed no expression. “Then let me ask you, if you could go back to the beginning, to the moment you first met Shi Zhongyu, would you go with her?”
Su Si hesitated for a moment, then revealed a weary smile that bordered on emptiness.
He shook his head ever so slightly, without any hesitation.
Shi Jingzhi stood in silence for a moment, then bowed respectfully to the two before him.
“Thank you both for enlightening me.”
Yin Ci, who was observing from a distance, sensed that something was amiss and approached with a swift turn. “The Lord of Hatred and the Lord of Ignorance haven’t shown themselves yet. Why did you awaken them?”
Once the inner demons were dispelled, hatred and ignorance would also vanish. Without a target, the demon lords would depart on their own. The clue left by Yan Budu would also come to naught.
“Because we no longer need them.” Shi Jingzhi turned his back to Yin Ci. His voice was somewhat stiff, as if suppressing his emotions. “They were already heavily injured. It’s better for them to rest in advance.”
Yin Ci watched that figure and keenly sensed that something was amiss. “What’s wrong with you?”
“A’Ci, I won’t ask about your inner demon. I just want to ask you one thing—why weren’t you surprised by the fact that ‘I have no inner demon’?”
Shi Jingzhi’s voice trembled slightly.
“You already saw through my situation, didn’t you?”
Before, he had thought Yin Ci was indifferent. But now it seemed that he himself was severed from the world, observing from a distance. Wasn’t he the same?
Shi Jingzhi felt a faint pain in his chest.
The inner demons had transformed, fueled by the power of the heart. Yan Qing and Su Si were already at their limits, and with their emotional knots pierced, the inner demon scene instantly collapsed. The murky fragments floated and swayed like a dark snowfall.
The Lords of Hatred and Ignorance carried Yan Budu’s spell, destabilizing people’s mental states. It was indeed a deadly path full of malice, but it could also be an opportunity for enlightenment.
In the recent inner demon scene, the cries of a child were piercing, and the despair of parting ran deep. Yet, Shi Jingzhi inexplicably felt a trace of envy.
In an instant, various scenes from his life flashed through his mind.
From the confusion, the desire to please and guard, to the swirling red leaves like butterflies in a hazy state, and the entwined hair under the starry sky, ending with the joy and indulgence on the Buddha’s head.
In the vivid whirlpool, only Shi Jingzhi stood alone in the center. His memories of the “other” were blurred.
Indeed, he wanted a disciple to experience the bonds of worldly attachments.
It could be anyone as a disciple.
As long as the purpose was achieved, he could give his care, reliance, and worries to them.
He stood high above, desiring only a taste of that slight sweetness and stopping at a surface level. Unfortunately, worldly attachments were still worldly attachments. If he was unwilling to personally stir up dust, then what was the point of worldly attachments?
After entering the formation, Shi Jingzhi had a vague sense of awareness.
His accumulated thoughts, their origins unknown, their outlets unseen, and never revealed to others. Over time, he himself couldn’t distinguish those suppressed emotions, simply regarding them all as “despair”.
In the midst of anguish and confusion, his original aspirations seemed distant and intangible. Naturally, there would be no mundane obstacles.
Yin Ci’s lack of surprise was because he saw through his true nature, right? What did Yin Ci think of such a “Master”? …Not knowing the thoughts of the other person was indeed unsettling.
The previous intimacy and apprehension were now all washed away, leaving behind an indescribable emptiness. The Lord of Greed brushed away the clouds that covered his eyes, seeking to dissipate them, revealing only an empty and suspended true self.
Perhaps it was time to take the first step.
Continuing to be alone and detached, he couldn’t give birth to an inner demon, nor could he touch deep emotions.
Shi Jingzhi turned around, looking at Yin Ci with a smile on his face as his eyes gradually turned red.
“A’Ci, you continue to search for the Lords of Hatred and Ignorance,” he said softly. “With me here now, they won’t leave.”
Yin Ci didn’t move.
Shi Jingzhi didn’t need to explain further. At the moment his words fell, countless pale thorns shot out from under his feet, spreading frantically.
The “Purifying Words” instructed him to ask the heavens and himself, not the world. Yet now, he wanted to blame the heavens and be angry at himself, intertwining love, hatred, anger, and foolishness, projecting them onto the world.
The thorns stretched out in despair, carrying the attachment of unwillingness to depart and a determination to resort to any means necessary. They entangled the mountains, the swaying “bare branches,” and the giant headlights, as if to devour everything. In an instant, the thorns climbed the distant mountains, covering the sky and the earth with their sharp tips pointing straight to the firmament.
In this moment, Shi Jingzhi’s long-standing defenses collapsed. In front of Yin Ci, he personally smashed his heart into the mortal world, leaving behind a ground filled with ordinary grievances, unwillingness, and liberation.
Like mountains covered in snow.
Unstable in his state of mind, hatred and ignorance erupted, and an inner demon was born.
Shi Jingzhi tightly grasped the thorny inner demon. The thorns cut into his palm, causing black-red blood to slowly drip.
“Go and find them quickly,” Shi Jingzhi repeated.
His complexion was pale, and his smile was unsightly. His voice trembled, with a hint of indistinct sobbing.
Yin Ci still didn’t leave.
For some reason, compared to the fleeting glimpse when he was dealing with the Lord of Greed, Shi Jingzhi’s current state, though miserable, appeared more alive—alive enough for Yin Ci to be unable to abandon him.
Yin Ci carefully crossed through the thorns, just like when his eyes were still blind, and firmly grasped Shi Jingzhi’s wrist.
“Shizun, you’ve only given birth to an inner demon; not be consumed by it.”
His actions were resolute, and his voice was calm.
“If we’re going to find them, let’s go together.”
Kinky Thoughts:
Ah I cried… I can’t express how disappointed I am that Su Si and Yan Qing aren’t a CP. I mean common!!!
Just a note on the three Lords. Nian Zhong is (most likely) basing them on the three poisons of Buddhism (which is actually quite apt given that they are in the Buddha Heart Formation). They are:
Greed or Attachment: Refers to an excessive desire for material possessions, sensual pleasures, and personal gain. It involves an insatiable craving and attachment to worldly things, leading to dissatisfaction, clinging, and suffering. Greed is seen as a distortion of perception that prevents individuals from recognizing the impermanent and interconnected nature of reality.
Hatred or Aversion: Encompasses various negative emotions such as anger, aversion, ill-will, and resentment. It arises when we encounter situations or individuals that we perceive as unpleasant, threatening, or incompatible with our desires. Hatred causes suffering not only to others but also to oneself, as it generates internal turmoil and disrupts peace of mind.
Ignorance or Delusion: Is the fundamental root of the other two poisons. It refers to a lack of understanding of the true nature of reality, including the impermanence of all phenomena, the interconnectedness of life, and the absence of inherent selfhood. Ignorance leads to confusion, wrong perceptions, and mistaken views, perpetuating the cycle of suffering and preventing the attainment of enlightenment.
So while Yan Qing is actually affected by Anger (嗔), I’ve decided to translate it as Hatred following the 3 poisons (as anger is a subset of Hatred).
Think of Greed, Hatred, and Ignorance on a more conceptual or spiritual meaning than the actual definition when applying it to what’s happening in this novel. Hope that makes sense.
