Lin Chen was taken aback and asked, “What do you mean by ‘that’?”
“That refers to what you just said to comfort me. You mentioned that although there are bad people in this world, there are also many good people.” Wang Chao sighed, sitting in the shade of the camphor tree, holding the plastic lunch box, and staring at the dumplings inside. “I don’t have the tendency to generalize. It’s meaningless to judge the moral level of society based on a small-scale event.” The teenager spoke with a proud tone.
Lin Chen glanced at Xing Conglian in surprise. Just a second ago, this teenager seemed on the verge of tears, but now he was analyzing social psychology. Before Xing Conglian could react, Lin Chen directly flicked the back of Wang Chao’s head and prevented the teenager from using his dirty hands to pick up the dumplings.
“You have chopsticks.”
Wang Chao rubbed the back of his head and looked at him with an extremely incredulous expression. Then he said word by word, “A’Chen Gege, you hit me! You hit me!”
“What else should I do? Kiss you instead?” Lin Chen said irritably.
“You can only kiss me.” Xing Conglian chimed in.
With the two gentlemen causing a commotion, Lin Chen felt that the previously brewing atmosphere of sadness had dissipated a lot.
Of course, Lin Chen didn’t truly believe that these two individuals were unaffected by the hidden secrets of decades ago.
Clearly, the smile on Xing Conglian’s face wasn’t genuine. His eyes were cold and devoid of amusement, and even Wang Chao, holding the bowl of dumplings with trembling fingers, seemed to be trying to conceal his true emotions.
Lin Chen unwrapped a pair of disposable chopsticks and handed them to Wang Chao, then asked, “So, what is the reason you’re actually feeling sad?”
“I think Shen Lian is a pervert.” Wang Chao paused before emphasizing, “a psychologically disturbed one.”
“Mm.” Lin Chen emitted a short and concise syllable. “Go on.”
“But according to your analysis, so many people indirectly caused the death of the old man. Why is it that, in the end, it was Shen Lian who mustered the courage to reveal the truth? It doesn’t feel right. Shen Lian should have been the worst one.”
“You’re still simplifying things by categorizing people as either good or bad. In reality, humans are complex beings, and there are no simple categories of good or bad people, simply right or wrong people, especially in this case.” Lin Chen patted the back of Wang Chao’s head. “One simple question, even if she was truly sexually assaulted, why did she never mention it, even when facing the police?”
“Yeah, it’s strange. Why did she lie?!” Wang Chao slapped his thigh. “Because she said it before, but her parents didn’t believe her?”
“I tend to believe that Shen Lian didn’t tell the truth from the beginning in order to protect her own interests, indirectly leading to the death of the old homeless man,” Lin Chen said.
Wang Chao opened his mouth, his expression turning from confusion to panic.
Just then, Wang Chao’s phone rang.
The teenager scrambled to retrieve his phone, seeing an unfamiliar number. He paused for a moment, quickly searched the caller on the laptop, and nearly threw the phone away.
“Why would that dumbass Huang Ze call me?”
“Because we both blocked him,” Xing Conglian stated matter-of-factly.
“You guys are setting me up!”
Wang Chao held the phone as if it were a hot potato, unsure whether to answer or not. In the end, Lin Chen said, “Answer it. Put it on speaker.”
Sure enough, Huang Ze’s gloomy voice came through the receiver.
“I heard you guys were chatting outside the dumpling restaurant?”
The atmosphere in the high-level office of the city bureau was obviously tense. Led by the provincial department, an official task force had been formed.
The round table in the meeting room was filled with laptops, and the room was filled with suffocating smoke. In just two hours, the ashtray on the table had been emptied several times. Not to mention the numerous phone calls and video conferences, countless leaders wanted to hear the details of the case that even he regretted reporting the incident for a moment.
He couldn’t reveal what he knew, so he could only talk about some trivial details and claim that a large number of police forces were already conducting a thorough investigation. At that moment, he mentioned Xing Conglian and Lin Chen.
Due to the wide-ranging and far-reaching implications of the case and the need to consider various opinions, he could only use “under investigation” as an excuse. But just a moment ago, a certain officer he wasn’t on good terms with mentioned that the so-called investigators were leisurely chatting outside a dumpling restaurant. This made Huang Ze burn with anger, but he couldn’t express it.
The previous meeting had come to an end, and he walked out with his phone in hand. What was even more infuriating was that Lin Chen and Xing Conglian had blocked his number, so he had no choice but to call Wang Chao’s phone.
This was no longer a simple matter of frustration.
Lin Chen sat on the flower bed, quietly listening to Huang Ze vent his anger and drift off-topic on the phone. It had turned into obvious complaints. Lin Chen felt that Huang Ze had vented enough, so he interrupted him.
“We came here to investigate the case. Doesn’t Inspector Huang want to hear the latest progress in our case report?”
Huang Ze was stunned, and there was a sudden silence on the other end of the phone. Huang Ze sarcastically said, “You’re still willing to talk to me?”
The statement carried an ambiguous meaning.
Xing Conglian propped his legs up and took out a cigarette, raising an eyebrow at him.
Lin Chen handed the phone over to Xing Conglian.
Xing Conglian took the call without greeting Huang Ze and simply summarized the key points of their investigation, including the tragedy that happened in Xiaolin Lane years ago.
On the other end of the phone, Huang Ze sneered again. “So, this is Lin Chen’s way of handling the case. You dig into Shen Lian’s past, but does it help with dealing with the most difficult current situation?”
Lin Chen glanced at Xing Conglian.
Xing Conglian made a gesture to him, indicating that this person was too annoying.
“Shen Lian is also psychologically unstable.” Lin Chen stared at the bustling street not far away. The more Huang Ze questioned these meaningless analyses, the calmer and more meticulous he became. “Not only Shen Lian’s parents, but even other adults on that street believed that Shen Lian had ‘mental issues’ before. And based on Shen Lian’s current condition of retaliating against society, she was likely born this way. People like her probably have a probability of 2% among the general population.”
Wang Chao shuddered. On the other end of the phone, Huang Ze remained stubborn. “And then? Does labeling Shen Lian as a psychological abnormality have any meaning for us in apprehending her?”
Lin Chen patted the back of the teenager’s head and continued, “This is a normal phenomenon within the entire human race. Since birth, Shen Lian’s brain functions, serotonin, dopamine, and monoamine neurotransmitters have naturally been at an abnormal level, different from ordinary people. This predetermined her to exhibit obvious differences from normal children in many sudden moments, causing panic in her parents.”
Lin Chen paused, remembering Shen Lian’s appearance with double ponytails when she was a child. Although she stared into the camera, it was as if she was looking into the distance through it.
Although he couldn’t gather too much specific information about Shen Lian’s upbringing from the data, even from small details, it was evident that Shen Lian’s parents were not the type to care for and protect their child diligently and unconditionally. And in school, her peculiarities led to her being out of sync with the overall environment.
As a result, Shen Lian’s academic performance had always been average.
That was the basic state of Shen Lian before experiencing that cold winter night.
And then…
“At that time, the homeless man who saved Shen Lian from danger must have had a conflict with Chen Jianguo. The argument escalated. As the person involved and a middle school student with full narrative ability, if Shen Lian had clearly stated what exactly happened at the time, there wouldn’t be so many people in the world that would blindly defend a neighbor who tried to molest a young girl.” When he thought of this, Lin Chen couldn’t help but feel a chill, and he said, “So the most likely possibility is that on that night, Shen Lian didn’t say anything.”
Although Huang Ze kept urging, Lin Chen couldn’t help but ponder.
What was Shen Lian thinking in her mind?
First of all, she couldn’t have been frightened. Based on Shen Lian’s repeated statements to the police about the incident while deliberately avoiding mentioning the molestation, it could be seen that Shen Lian was intentionally hiding this fact. Therefore, she made the choice that was most beneficial to herself after weighing the pros and cons.
The old man was shouting, and the silent Shen Lian was taken away. It was originally an incident caused by people who were only trying to maintain neighborhood harmony but ended up inflicting harm on others due to certain irreparable flaws in human social behavior, resulting in an extremely dehumanizing event.
When Lin Chen reached this point, he finally couldn’t continue.
He stopped and felt that the summer sunlight seemed to have lost its effect. Under the camphor tree, the wind felt cold and piercing.
But Xing Conglian continued the topic. “So, what you’re saying is that everything Shen Lian did was only to protect her own interests?”
Lin Chen nodded.
Xing Conglian sneered, “She wasn’t seeking justice for the old man; she just wanted to punish those who had hurt her. As Lao Bian just mentioned, the relationship between the Shen and Chen families was strained, which indicates that Shen Lian’s target for revenge was always clear—Chen Jianguo. When she realized that her personal power was insufficient, she began seeking external help. First, her parents, and then the police. She persisted tirelessly until she suddenly discovered that she herself had become one of the murderers. She’s like an extremely dangerous combustible material ignited by a spark and has been burning ever since.”
“That’s probably it.” Lin Chen nodded, looking at Xing Conglian approvingly. “Captain Xing, if you keep going like this, I might end up unemployed.”
“Unemployment is good. I’ll support you.”
Lin Chen shook his head helplessly. Police officers began to enter the dumpling restaurant, but Xing Conglian nonchalantly hooked his shoulder, with a comforting expression. If they weren’t discussing an extremely dangerous individual and dark matters, Lin Chen would even have the illusion that they were enjoying aimless love under the sun, with the wind blowing.
Yin Ren had become accustomed to Zhong Chengshuo’s horror-inducing behavior by now.
Zhong Chengshuo, sleep-deprived and groggy, climbed out of bed and squinted as he changed his clothes. Yin Ren pulled out a linen shirt from the wardrobe, put it on, and made two cups of chilled fruit juice from the apples in the refrigerator, considering it a refreshing drink.
In just a quarter of an hour, the windows of the living room were wide open. Yin Ren held Zhong Chengshuo tightly, and the two flew towards the secret base in the old city district.
Zhong Chengshuo’s secret basement remained the same as before. Compared to the summer, the indoor air felt cooler and drier.
As Yin Ren touched the steel frame along the wall, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sentimental. There were memories of intimacy and sweetness mixed with sorrow and despair about this place. His gaze swept over the interrogation chair, where they first experienced an intimate melding of body and soul, and then turned to the storage room hidden behind the clamp, where the sweetness and bitterness in his heart merged into a rich chocolate-like flavor.
His gaze finally landed on Zhong Chengshuo, who had entered the room ahead of him.
The room’s layout was as cold and rigid as before. It truly needed Zhong Chengshuo to walk around in it to avoid feeling lifeless.
Zhong Chengshuo immediately headed for the refrigerator, attempting to find some chocolate or juice for Yin Ren. Unfortunately, they had indulged here for an absurd amount of time, exhausting their energy, and all the food and drinks had been emptied at once.
So Comrade Xiao Zhong could only hang his head, with a stern face, and walk towards the shelves.
He took down a stainless steel canister and carefully moved it to the table. He called Yin Ren closer, and then verified his fingerprint at the top of the canister. With a slight hissing sound, the canister emitted a strange-smelling gas. The contents inside rose on their own, revealing their true nature.
It was a human brain.
Yin Ren’s pupils contracted, and then he looked at Zhong Chengshuo in shock.
Embedded in the stainless steel canister was a glass container, and floating inside it was a human brain. The brain had a full and rounded shape, with a fresh grayish-pink hue on its surface, as if it were still alive. With Zhong Chengshuo’s movements, it gently swayed inside the glass container.
“Zhong Ge… What is this…”
Even though Lord Ghost King’s biological knowledge was close to zero, he still knew that a person couldn’t survive without a brain.
Zhong Chengshuo blinked and tapped on the glass canister. Suddenly, the brain inside the canister became semi-transparent, shimmering with countless subtle streams of light.
“This is the refined modeling method I’ve found. In terms of microscopic structure and level of detail, it is no different from a living brain.” Zhong Chengshuo solemnly introduced. “Unfortunately, this technology is not suitable for exposure at the moment. To obtain accurate information from the brain’s interior, a significant amount of stimulation is required, and the methods are somewhat inhumane.”
He pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. His tone was devoid of guilt, as if it were more like making some kind of judgment.
Yin Ren silently looked at the colorful brain model. “I have indeed been curious. What did you do to Guo Laifu back then?”
He had seen Guo Laifu’s memories. That beast who sacrificed his own son had been driven mad by Zhong Chengshuo. Unfortunately, the memories lacked the process, leaving Guo Laifu’s mind shrouded in darkness.
Zhong Chengshuo pondered for a moment, took a deep breath, and lifted his eyes. “Yin Ren, look at me.”
Yin Ren subconsciously looked at those familiar eyes, and the next moment, those crimson irises slightly widened.
Just like the pitch-black ocean beneath the cliff back then, Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes were not truly “black”.
Upon closer inspection, it was unclear whether this person’s pupils were too dilated or his irises were too dark, but Yin Ren couldn’t find the boundary between Zhong Chengshuo’s irises and pupils. However, he could see clearly that something was squirming, squeezing, and rotating within those eyes, revealing vague contours.
That refined and elegant face seemed to transform into some kind of exquisite container in that moment. This body called “Zhong Chengshuo” only resembled a human in appearance but lacked a crucial “living human” aura.
Just through their gaze, every hair on Yin Ren’s back stood up, overwhelmed by an unprecedented sense of repulsion.
Just like a fierce tiger sensing another.
As time passed, a bone-deep fear, directly penetrating his soul, seeped into Yin Ren. It bypassed the steps of “perception” and “thought” and went straight to the depths of his heart, like instinct. Fortunately, the intensity of this fear was relatively mild, equivalent to “discovering that the usual late-night snack shop was closed”.
Zhong Chengshuo was about to avert his gaze when he felt a not-too-light, not-too-heavy pulling sensation on his cheek.
The audacious Lord Ghost King approached, tugging at his face.
The situation was similar to his speculation. Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t completely merged his body into a human form; he retained some of his original structure within his eyeballs. Just like the venomous fangs of a venomous snake—as long as they were used appropriately, they could transform into a terrifying weapon at any moment.
It was fortunate that Zhong Yude and Cheng Xuehua had adopted this guy. Zhong Chengshuo had no sense of belonging to the “human” race. If he had been raised by Sunken Society, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
It was great that before him, there was still the pure and naive “god” from back then.
“You held back with me, right? It’s true that seeing your true form would be enough to scare an ordinary person to death,” Yin Ren sincerely remarked.
“Yes.” Zhong Chengshuo’s voice was strained as his face was still being tugged. “Mmm… I will test their limits of fear.”
Yin Ren took the opportunity to give him a kiss, then released his hand. Seeing that Yin Ren had no other reaction, Zhong Chengshuo adjusted his askew glasses, and his brows and eyes softened quite a bit.
He started moving around the secret base again. Before long, the entire table was filled with highly detailed models of human brains. Countless brains flickered with subtle lights, neatly arranged on the table. Zhong Chengshuo sat down in front of the computer and started typing on the keyboard.
Yin Ren, on the other hand, lay idle on the table, gazing at the mesmerizing flow of lights from the brains before him.
It was truly fascinating how these models, obtained from heinous serial killers, could be so beautiful. They emitted a faint glow within their glass containers, resembling some kind of bizarre-shaped deep-sea jellyfish.
Yin Ren clenched the wooden rabbit talisman in his hand, but these brains showed no peculiar reactions.
All he could hear was the tapping of Zhong Chengshuo’s keyboard, mixed with the crisp clicking sound of the mouse. Yin Ren tightened his grip on the wooden rabbit talisman, and his eyelids grew heavier.
In the next moment, Yin Ren was abruptly awakened by an overwhelming killing intent.
The source of the killing intent was numerous, coming from all directions. And at this moment, he was no longer in the familiar underground basement but floating amidst chaos. At the end of the killing intent, countless shimmering and translucent “brain jellyfish” floated around him, radiating intense malice and killing intent.
Yin Ren instinctively suppressed his aura.
He could sense that the killing intent didn’t stem from hatred or anger but purely from “pleasure”. Those flickering brains were like sharks catching the scent of blood, lingering around him.
And in the distance, Yin Ren couldn’t see clearly. His senses were exceptionally chaotic, as if submerged in murky seawater. The brain jellyfish gradually faded away, sinking deeper into the sea, while more indistinct entities appeared around him.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The chaos was filled with rhythmic vibrations, and its sensation was difficult to describe. Unrelated to hearing, unrelated to touch, but Yin Ren just knew that the collision sound never ceased.
What kind of place is this?
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The rhythmic vibrations were irregular, with subtle variations in rhythm. If forced to describe, it was as if someone was manually striking something.
Yin Ren couldn’t help but move his body, quietly approaching the source of the strikes. However, this place was bizarre. He wandered in place for a long time, unable to make any progress or successfully move even a bit.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The “sound” became clearer, causing discomfort throughout Yin Ren’s body. Just as he was about to further investigate, something suddenly grabbed hold of him. It possessed a formidable aura, pulling him in the opposite direction of the pounding sound.
Yin Ren wanted to confirm the identity of the assailant, but the perception remained chaotic, and he couldn’t glean any further information about the “attacker.”
Who could it be?
Before Yin Ren could fully comprehend the situation, a warmth pressed against his shoulder. He instantly opened his eyes and found himself back in the basement, bathed in the cold light.
“…Yin Ren.”
At some point, Zhong Chengshuo had stopped his search. He gently shook Yin Ren’s shoulder and called out in a low voice.
“Yin Ren, wake up. I’ve almost finished the search.”
Yin Ren pressed his slightly throbbing temple, abruptly transitioning from a dream to reality. The sensation of weightlessness threatened to swallow him whole.
“What?”
“Twenty-eight years ago, the missing people from the Divine Descent.” Zhong Chengshuo displayed his computer screen, and beside the computer, a stack of thick paper documents appeared out of nowhere. “I’ve observed some families and recorded more detailed information than the Shian officials. It’s a fact that most of the missing individuals had good personalities.”
Yin Ren momentarily set aside the inexplicable dream and perked up his ears. “You said ‘most of them had good personalities’?”
“Yes, unfortunately, there were a few individuals with not-so-good reputations.” As he spoke, Zhong Chengshuo brought up some data.
Yin Ren glanced at them briefly. Several were local troublemakers, while others were notoriously stingy vendors. Their information was very ordinary, lacking any earth-shattering positive deeds.
No matter how he looked at it, these individuals had no connection to the so-called “good personality”.
Zhong Chengshuo asked Yin Ren to sit in the chair while he wrapped his arms around the back of the chair and manipulated the mouse.
“You know, as long as there are exceptions, Fu Xingchuan’s speculation doesn’t hold. But he raised an interesting perspective: most of the missing individuals had good personalities, and that can’t be a mere coincidence.”
Yin Ren stared at the dense explanatory text on the computer screen.
Zhong Chengshuo’s investigation was incredibly detailed. Over the years, in order to determine the cause of Zhong Chengfeng’s disappearance, apart from basic elements like gender, age, and occupation, he even looked into the family composition and reputation of other missing individuals, compiling their “character profiles”.
Regardless of gender, regardless of age, regardless of occupation…
Unlike Zhong Chengshuo, Yin Ren’s memory of the modern era was limited. He looked at the seemingly unrelated data, and suddenly something flashed in his mind.
“…Zhong Ge, do you remember the series of disappearances involving Bai Yongji? The case where the victims were fused into furniture?”
“I remember.”
“His criteria were ‘enduring suffering while maintaining optimism’.” Yin Ren looked at the data in front of him, trying to organize his thoughts. “But it doesn’t have much to do with psychological reasons. It’s just because he wanted to send half of the victims’ bodies to the Other Side. Judging from his intentions, individuals with that personality trait would last a bit longer on the Other Side.”
Zhong Chengshuo hummed in response on his shoulder.
“Of course, these people disappeared entirely during the Divine Descent, and the circumstances aren’t entirely consistent. But I wonder… I’m just speculating—could this practice have something to do with ‘preservation on the Other Side’? All the Elementals we have encountered so far feed on emotions, and emotions arise when people are alive.”
Zhong Chengshuo released the chair.
He pondered for a moment and connected the numerous brains on the table to the computer.
“If your speculation is correct, these people disappeared because their ‘shelf life’ is longer and their ‘nutritional value’ is higher. It works perfectly.”
“These brain models belonged to serial killers, and their mental intensity is more than enough. Now, I will use them to simulate some common emotions. If your speculation is correct, there should be some useful data to be obtained if there is a corruption source from Evil Force nearby.”
……
The next day, Ge Tingting and Huang Jin saw dark circles under the eyes of the other three, indicating lack of sleep.
Lu Xiaohe’s insomnia was understandable, and Yin Ren’s sleeplessness could be attributed to coincidence. As for why the “flesh puppet” also had dark circles, that was a matter not worth pondering. For some reason, Ge Tingting felt a subtle sense of unease from Yin Ren today.
“Do you have any progress on your side?” Despite knowing that Yin Ren’s expression wasn’t good, Lu Xiaohe couldn’t help but ask. “Anything, really anything.”
“I have some speculations, but it’s not going smoothly.” Yin Ren evaded the question.
It wasn’t just going smoothly; it was causing big trouble.
That night, Zhong Chengshuo retrieved the emotional measurement scale from within Shian’s Archive. It was said to be the emotion data observed and analyzed by the Shian Observation and Analysis Archive, a meticulously revised and reasonably categorized scale—
Under the two basic categories of “fear” and “satisfaction”, there were subdivisions of “sorrow” and “hatred”, “joy” and “love”, as well as countless smaller, more subtle emotions extending further down the scale. It felt like it would take a hundred years to try them all.
So they started from the top with “satisfaction” and slowly proceeded along the positive emotions. The rabbit talisman was surrounded by brains on the table, and there was no change on either side.
The night ended, and the sun rose. The two Primordial Elementals went from being enthusiastic to bitter. Zhong Chengshuo started to yawn, and Yin Ren slipped out to buy breakfast. The faint smell of medicine in the room was overpowered by the aroma of deep-fried dough sticks and soy milk. Zhong Chengshuo finally decided to abandon the “quiet pleasure” according to the emotional data from Shian and switch to the “fear” category for another experiment.
This time, Zhong Chengshuo even wrote an emotion simulation script for this experiment.
A large amount of simulated fear emotions succeeded, but there was no response.
Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo each had a dough stick, dipping it in soy milk and eating bite by bite.
A large amount of disgust emotions were successfully simulated, but there was no response.
Yin Ren started to savor a tea egg slowly, and Zhong Chengshuo bit into a row of corn, occasionally glancing at his watch.
“It’s morning.” Zhong Chengshuo announced the time on the hour.
“Yes, it’s dawn.” Yin Ren wiped his mouth, his face filled with melancholy.
Zhong Chengshuo finished the corn, wiped the corners of his mouth earnestly, and leaned in to kiss Yin Ren’s forehead. “Good morning.”
At that moment, the program automatically simulated “sorrow”.
The rabbit talisman suddenly emitted a dazzling light, and sparks of electricity and magical brilliance erupted simultaneously. After a series of explosions, the surrounding brain models were destroyed one by one.
Amidst the smoke and broken glass, the space slowly cracked, and a familiar figure appeared before the two of them.
When Qi Xin appeared in this basement, Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t had the chance to finish kissing Yin Ren’s forehead. More than a dozen shards of glass fell into the steaming soy milk.
Qi Xin: “…” She stood on the table with her flat shoes, stepping on the wet glass and emitting squeaking and creaking sounds. All the brain models were completely damaged, and King Yama’s years of hunting records turned into nothingness in an instant.
Zhong Chengshuo and Yin Ren: “…”
The air was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
“I thought there was food.” Qi Xin glanced at Yin Ren, casually adjusting her hair. “Sorry for the interruption. Maybe we’ll meet again.”
“Wait!” Yin Ren spoke up. “I have something to discuss!”
“You did well in thwarting Mr. Qiu.”
Qi Xin looked down at Yin Ren from a high vantage point, and under the pale light, the faint red at the corner of her eyes appeared particularly striking.
“You have grown quickly, and I am pleased… In terms of power, you may have matured. But right now, you have no fighting skills. With your current level, there is nothing for us to discuss.”
She kept her gaze on Yin Ren as if Zhong Chengshuo on the side was just a decoration in the room.
“Maybe we’ll meet again, cub. Remember not to approach if you hear knocking sounds next time.”
Thinking of the inexplicable dream just now and the force that pulled him away, Yin Ren was taken aback. “Was it you just now…”
Qi Xin smiled lightly, and her figure began to fade away.
But this time, before Yin Ren could make a move, Zhong Chengshuo rushed forward like a cannonball and grabbed Qi Xin’s wrist. There was no expression on his face, but strangely, Yin Ren knew that his lover was displeased.
Qi Xin paid no attention to it. However, after a few seconds, all the profound and unfathomable expressions on her face turned into question marks.
Her body disappeared up to her wrist, and then, as if a skill had been interrupted, she solidified once again. Qi Xin and Zhong Chengshuo remained silent, staring at each other, and she slowly shook her wrist.
Zhong Chengshuo didn’t let go.
Qi Xin exerted more force to shake him off.
Zhong Chengshuo remained unmoved, and his expression turned even colder.
“What is this?” Qi Xin narrowed her eyes, and the aura of killing intent gradually intensified around her.
Yin Ren gasped for breath, his hand forming a seal, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on his back.
Qi Xin was a mysterious figure, one of the strongest Primordial Elementals they had encountered. With Lu Xiaohe’s mother’s life hanging in the balance, this was indeed a rare opportunity. If they could keep her here, they could join forces to suppress Qi Xin.
However… there was an obvious difference between Qi Xin and Zhong Chengshuo. Although she was a Primordial Elemental, she possessed emotional intelligence close to that of an ordinary person.
He needed to choose a more suitable means of communication.
“That is… cough, I made a flesh puppet, from my own flesh and blood.” Yin Ren coughed loudly.
Qi Xin: “You call this a flesh puppet? Do you think I’m stupid?”
As one grew older, the mind became less sharp than it was in youth. He had forgotten many things—he couldn’t remember when his wife had left, whether the accident had happened before or after his retirement. All he remembered was waking up and not seeing his wife anymore.
A blurry-faced doctor informed him that they had been in a car accident abroad and his wife had tragically passed away.
And his daughter… She was studying in another city. Unable to bear the pain of losing her mother, she had made up her mind to wander elsewhere. It had been a long time since she last came to see him, only occasional voice calls and brief videos.
Xu Kan touched his own hair—for someone approaching fifty, he still looked relatively young, with not many gray hairs and a sturdy physique. But when he calculated the time, his daughter was about to turn twenty-five.
Time passed so quickly.
From retiring from the Blackbirds to the occurrence of the accident, Xu Kan’s memories had become jumbled. However, over time, he gradually became accustomed to a life affected by the aftermath. His life wasn’t complicated—reading books, keeping up with the news, occasionally going to his favorite café to enjoy tea and coffee, exchanging a few words with strangers—and he was content.
Time had passed for too long, and his former comrades were scattered across the world, with only short greetings exchanged in writing.
The café was adorned with glass windows that were almost transparent to the point of nonexistence. The afternoon sunlight was warm and gentle. Xu Kan suddenly felt an inexplicable sadness. Everything in front of him seemed too unreal, and he felt disconnected from this scene.
He had thought about leaving this place, but every time he had that thought, his daughter’s messages would conveniently arrive, delicately expressing her hope that he would wait for her in their hometown. When he considered going to be with his daughter, she would always use the excuse of being busy with “studying and life.”
This year’s Reunion Festival, he couldn’t be sure if he would have to spend it through a video call. Xu Kan flipped through the book in his hand, unable to focus on a single word.
He had struggled for so many years in <Erosion>, but he had no one by his side. Today was his daughter’s birthday, and Xu Kan had deliberately chosen the best corner of the café, dressing up before leaving—just in case she had time for a video call, he wanted to be a cool father.
The café door opened, and the sound of high heels tapped on the floor. Xu Kan didn’t lift his head until those red high heels stopped in front of him.
“Dad,” the young woman said.
Xu Kan straightened up as if electrified and raised his head in disbelief.
After years of separation, his daughter’s appearance had become somewhat unfamiliar. She had exquisite makeup, a cold and sharp demeanor, and every movement she made was decisive. Xu Kan felt a bit dazed—his daughter seemed like a seasoned warrior.
“Dad, long time no see.” The woman sat across from him. “Do you like this surprise?”
A sour feeling surged in Xu Kan’s throat. “You little brat, you finally know to come back and visit your old man.”
Whether it was tears blurring his eyes or not, the woman’s expression instantly became complex—a mix of sadness and relief. She seemed sadder than him.
“…I found a job nearby, so it’s very convenient to see you from now on.” The woman sniffled. “You’ll probably find me annoying by then.”
Xu Kan wiped his face and let out a long breath. “My girl has grown up. Sijing, what kind of job did you find?”
The woman fell silent for a while. “Before we talk about that, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“I changed my name, Dad. I don’t want to be… constantly bound by the past anymore, and you should let go too.”
Xu Kan was taken aback. “A perfectly good name, and you changed it just like that? Your mom—”
“‘Xia Jing’ definitely loved you. Now I can be sure that until she passed away, she never truly let go of you.” The woman took a deep breath. “But that’s all in the past, Dad. <Erosion> is closing down, and everything should come to an end.”
“Silly child, what are you saying? ‘Xia Jing’ was just the NPC name your mom was in charge of in <Erosion>. But since you don’t like it, well, that’s fine too. You’re grown up now and have your own thoughts… What name did you change to?”
“Xiaoxiao.” The woman curled her lips, her smile still tinged with a hint of sadness. “Dad, I became a doctor.”
This time, Xu Kan was even more stunned. He pondered for a while and then burst into laughter. “Indeed, you’re my daughter.”
“….?”
“I really like the name ‘Xiaoxiao’. Ah, it was back when I named you, wanting to commemorate my meeting with your mom… Maybe I should have called you ‘Xiaoxiao’ a long time ago. Don’t doubt it. Back when I was in <Erosion>, I met a very obedient little girl, and I gave her that name—”
Ai Xiaoxiao managed to maintain a smile, holding back her tears.
“I believe you,” she said. “…Dad.”
“Hm?”
“It’s nothing, I just wanted to call you that.”
“Oh, look at me, too caught up in talking. Now that you’re back, later I’ll take you to pick a gift. Whatever my girl wants, Dad will buy it for you, as a celebration for finding a good job.”
“I have something I want,” Ai Xiaoxiao said with reddened eyes. “Dad, can I take a photo with you? It’s been a long time since we… our family took a picture.”
Xu Kan was delighted, almost losing his bearings. He immediately stood up and shifted in his seat, making room in the best spot with sunlight. “Come, come, come. Dad couldn’t ask for anything more.”
The two of them squeezed into the corner of the café where the light was the strongest, closely huddled together, making the photo overflow with warmth.
“Dad.” Ai Xiaoxiao looked at Xu Kan frantically setting the screensaver and spoke with a hint of tears. “Thank you for the gift.”
“…I will accompany you for a lifetime.”
Two hours later, Ai Xiaoxiao stepped out of the hibernation pod. The photo remained in her database, and she projected it in the most prominent position in the medical hall.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you cry like this.” Seeing the other person shed tears, Xia Liang didn’t dare joke anymore. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“That photo… um, the face on it is a bit different from yours. Are you sure you want to display it outside?”
“It’s just a virtual image. I’ll adjust the data gradually. His daughter never existed from the beginning, so there won’t be a problem.” Ai Xiaoxiao took a tissue and wiped her nose. After drying her tears, she looked at the hibernation pod beside her.
The real Xu Kan in the real world—a quiet, liquid-like organism—was sleeping peacefully. Its body had a bit more color, but its form remained largely unchanged.
After the war, she tried countless methods. With the assistance of the command center, she could cure humans severely affected by erosion, stabilize the synthesis of human DNA, and let them live healthy lives. However, she couldn’t save the synths who had completely lost their forms.
She could only let them live a normal human lifespan, nothing more.
Ai Xiaoxiao raised her head, observing the modified “Bellflower” working quietly. Once today passed, the machinery in the command center would officially stop running. Starting from today, more than a hundred people, including Xu Kan, would officially return to synth society.
Handling intelligence might be a bit troublesome, but fortunately, the current leader had an efficient assistant—Tang Heyu had become the head of the research institute in the command center, and the old man loved tinkering with these things.
“After all this effort, synths still prefer this setup.” Xia Liang took a sip of her drink. “With the improved environment, I thought they wouldn’t immerse themselves in the virtual world anymore.”
“These hundred-plus people can only live on ‘the other side’. For the remaining thirty thousand, this can be considered a kind of farewell.” Ai Xiaoxiao caressed the lid of the hibernation pod. “The construction of X City will take time, and returning to ‘that side’ can also be seen as a form of decompression activity.”
“True. At least this time, the game is a true game.” Xia Liang finished her drink and smacked her lips.
“…I was just about to ask, are you so free? I don’t have time to fool around with you. Go back quickly.”
“Don’t be mean. I don’t have to perform now.” Xia Liang feigned tears. “You’re my only friend for life. Can’t I come and visit you?”
“I know you don’t need to pretend, but now the Xia family is under your control, right?” Ai Xiaoxiao clicked her tongue. “Marshal Xia, if you continue to loaf around, Zhu Yanchen will definitely take you down.”
“Tsk. I’ve checked his schedule. Mr. Zhu is having a sweet date outside, so why can’t I come out to hang out—”
“Hang out?” Ai Xiaoxiao’s gaze instantly sharpened.
“Just come out for a stroll—a stroll.” Xia Liang smiled brighter than flowers. “Oh, it’s been over half a year. Why are they still so clingy! It’s outrageous, let me tell you—”
Xia Liang’s gossip didn’t reach the ears of the people involved.
Zhu Yanchen had his eyes blindfolded, sitting in the back seat with a bewildered expression. Shu Jun happily hummed a tune, almost causing the car to take off in place.
Most of the erosion had retreated underwater, and the eroded land gradually recovered. Wild grass gradually covered the ground, mice scurried around in the bushes, and colorful birds perched on branches. The sky was a brilliant blue without a trace of clouds, and all the colors seemed more vibrant.
But there was a cost—the ground beneath the tires was no longer soft muddy soil but uneven terrain. The car sped like a crazy dog, and Zhu Yanchen, despite his extensive battle experience, almost vomited from the dizziness.
Leader Zhu clutched his pocket in pain, struggling to maintain an upright posture. He missed the time when the two of them could freely fly, but unfortunately, Shu Jun was technically in hibernation, and the surrounding surveillance stations were dense. They had to travel in a conventional manner.
“We’re almost there,” Shu Jun comforted him. “I, uh, I drove a bit fast. A’Yan, bear with it for a few more minutes.”
“Mmgh…”
Finally, the car came to a stop. Zhu Yanchen lay in the back seat for a while in a position reminiscent of a coffin, then got up.
Shu Jun didn’t remove the blindfold, instead gripping Zhu Yanchen’s hand tightly and leading him forward. “A’Yan, on your last birthday, resources were limited, so I didn’t give you a gift… Do you remember?”
“I remember.” Zhu Yanchen’s voice was serious. “I remember very clearly.”
Shu Jun took a sharp breath. “Don’t make it sound like you’re holding a grudge, okay? Come, come, come, let me make up for the gift.”
He happily removed Zhu Yanchen’s blindfold, spreading his arms to showcase—
…A muddy field.
Zhu Yanchen’s gaze shifted from the left to the right of the field, then from the right to the left. He carefully examined it for a while, but only saw a large expanse of bare mud.
Shu Jun’s face twitched. He turned around in place, then carefully moved his body aside.
Just as Shu Jun moved, Zhu Yanchen’s gaze locked onto it—the center of the brown-black mud, two bellflowers bloomed. Whether it was the variety or the color, they resembled the ones they had raised in their childhood.
“I originally wanted to show you a field of flowers.” Shu Jun scratched his head in embarrassment. “Ai Xiaoxiao improved the seeds and shortened the growth period. I cleaned up the erosion from this area, but I failed because I lacked experience in planting… This thing isn’t as reliable as data in the virtual world, and in the end, only two plants survived.”
He stole a glance at Zhu Yanchen’s expression and cleared his throat on purpose. “If we replant another batch, your next birthday will have already passed! Then you’ll miss out on a gift for no reason. So, I…”
Shu Jun didn’t manage to finish his sentence.
Zhu Yanchen embraced his waist and kissed him earnestly. The kiss lasted long enough for Shu Jun to start making muffled sounds from his throat, and his hands became restless.
However, Zhu Yanchen firmly gripped his wrist.
“A’Yan?”
“I happen to have a gift too.” Zhu Yanchen released Shu Jun’s waist and took out a prepared small box from his pocket, handing it to Shu Jun with solemnity.
Shu Jun raised an eyebrow and opened the unremarkable box, then gasped—
Inside the box lay two rings in silence. The two rings were exactly the same in style, without any gemstone embellishments. One of the rings was entirely black, with a warm hue, while the other had been carefully polished and emitted a radiant white light.
Zhu Yanchen reached out and took the black one, wearing it on his left ring finger.
Shu Jun: “…”
Shu Jun: “Wait, what does this mean?”
“It’s a formal response,” Zhu Yanchen replied seriously. “Didn’t you confess to me in front of all the humans back then?”
“No, this…”
“You’re not agreeing?”
“It’s not a matter of agreeing or not!” Shu Jun picked up the ring, his expression somewhat dazed. “Is this it? Is it over? A’Yan, not to say anything, but when I confessed, I made a big scene—”
“Mm.” Zhu Yanchen carefully dug out the two bellflowers and headed towards the car.
“Hey, hey, why are you leaving? How could I possibly not agree? Even if we become an old married couple, we still need some sense of ceremony—”
“Come with me.” This time, Zhu Yanchen got into the driver’s seat and glanced at Shu Jun. “I won’t blindfold you.”
The car started, and it was a long journey once again. Zhu Yanchen drove the car extremely steadily, while Shu Jun gazed at the ring on his ring finger throughout the entire journey, occasionally murmuring to himself. Eventually, he fell asleep.
When the car stopped silently, Shu Jun woke up in a daze, with the sound of waves rolling into his ears.
On the cliff by the seaside stood a beautiful small house. Judging from its style and paint, the house was probably recently built. Monday proudly stood by the seaside, its size having grown significantly, almost matching the size of the house.
Shu Jun guessed most of it in his heart and quietly followed behind Zhu Yanchen. He mentally prepared himself, but when the door opened, he still almost exclaimed in surprise—
The interior decoration and items in the house were almost identical to their home on “the other side”.
“When the reconstruction of Y City was nearing completion, I secretly modified a few construction machines,” Zhu Yanchen said softly as he placed the two bellflowers into an empty flowerpot and put it on a sunny windowsill. “I restored the furniture and electrical appliances one by one… with the help of Mr. Tang and the others. In short…”
His voice grew smaller, and he spun the black ring on his finger round and round.
“I had Ai Xiaoxiao examine my body. Part of my body is sustained by erosion, and it will age, but the process will become very slow.” It seemed like he had made a decision, and his voice became clear again. “Shu Jun, we can still be with each other for a long time. In another ten years, when I step down from my position as the leader, this place will be our…”
His ears turned red, and his voice took another roller coaster-like dip.
“…Our home.”
Shu Jun covered his eyes with his hand and suddenly laughed. “I was wondering what it was… A’Yan, with your proposal turning out like this, could it be that you’re shy?”
“It’s true that I’m a bit nervous,” Zhu Yanchen admitted with a serious expression.
“This isn’t just nervousness; we call it being shy.” Shu Jun decisively took off the ring and removed the one from Zhu Yanchen’s finger. “Come on, let me demonstrate—A’Yan, marry me. Next year, I will definitely make the flower field happen.”
Zhu Yanchen’s expression became somewhat subtle. Before he could speak, Shu Jun continued in rapid succession, “If you don’t want to marry, it’s okay. Just marry me.”
“Ten years, right? By then, I’ll retire with you. As for during work, this place is a great vacation spot. Mm, it would also be suitable for holding a wedding. We can have a belated celebration then.”
With that said, Shu Jun narrowed his eyes and kissed the back of Zhu Yanchen’s hand. “So, what do you say? Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”
Zhu Yanchen pursed his lips, gently prying Shu Jun’s hand open. He reclaimed his own ring, swiftly slipped it back onto his finger, and carefully put the white wedding ring on Shu Jun’s finger.
“Of course,” Zhu Yanchen said with utmost solemnity.
“It’s a pity we don’t have any food; otherwise, we could have cooked a meal. Ah, right, there’s food in the car. Let’s go and get it.” Shu Jun waved his hand with the ring, lowering his voice. “After we finish eating… we need to test the bedding here. The backseat of the car is too narrow.”
Zhu Yanchen’s gaze remained fixated on the ring, and he lifted his head, revealing an incredibly satisfied smile.
However, they weren’t the only ones hungry.
Seeing its two guardians at the door, Monday couldn’t contain its excitement, opening its mouth, eagerly waiting for some erosion candies. But those two scoundrels entered the house and started talking to themselves, completely ignoring it.
Monday’s anticipation gradually turned into anger.
It extended one of its erosion tendrils, sneaked onto the balcony, and began chewing the leaves of the two bellflowers one by one. Chewing here, biting there, it was quite satisfied.
On that day, the observers at the coastal monitoring station reported that the newborn Sigma emitted a loud scream for unknown reasons. Shortly after, the scream turned into a whimper of grievance. After a wave of chewing sound waves passed, the whimper transformed into contented murmurs.
What happened to the newborn Sigma that day remains a mystery to this day.
The author has something to say:
The main story has come to an end (:D 」∠)
This is my first attempt at writing a story of this length, and the pacing was faster than before. I learned a lot from this experience and also stumbled into some pitfalls (?) I will take the lessons and continue to work hard! XD
Lastly, I apologize for the significant delay in updates due to my recent health issues. (:з」∠)
Kinky Thoughts:
This marks the end of the main story. If you like the author, I have done other works by her (Stray, Happy Doomsday, and Evil As Humans) that you should check out. I highly recommend Stray, as that is the work I discovered her from.
It seems that Nian Zhong tried a new writing style with Access Denied. I can’t say if I like it or not. Compared to her other work, this one I felt was too rushed, and many things were glossed over and smoothly resolved within a few paragraphs (very unlike her other work where plotlines are slowly developed).
I also think due to this, character development (especially for the side characters) wasn’t very fleshed out. Having read her other works, this certainly had a different style that I can’t say I like.
Overall, I did like the story, though not as much as her other works. The story was quite action-packed and definitely a page-turner. I just wish things were more detailed and developed more slowly. I could’ve read over 50 chapters just about their childhood past. I’m a sucker for childhood sweethearts.
Nevertheless, if you enjoyed it, please consider supporting the author by buying the raws. I used Google Chrome with their auto translate and this guide on how to buy novels on jjwxc. Remember, only with your (financial) support can artists continue to produce more great works.
I would also like to thank everyone for your comments, encouragement, help with my translations, and ko-fi donations. It in part fuels my motivation to release so frequently and try to finish this novel as soon as possible.
The roots of the tree formed a towering statue that looked down upon them. Shi Jingzhi had a strange illusion at that moment—they resembled crickets trapped in a jar, being observed from the outside.
Fortunately, none of the statues, regardless of which deity they represented, showed any signs of movement. Shi Jingzhi trembled in place for a while and gradually resigned himself to the situation.
He might as well see it to the end*. He took a few steps and reached for the lantern.
*(一不做二不休) Idiom referring to being determined and resolute in pursuing a course of action without hesitation or compromise (AKA to be in for a penny, in for a pound).
The scene before them was horrifying, and the young girl’s legs went weak from fear. Finally encountering a living person, she immediately clung tightly to Shi Jingzhi’s thigh, crying so hard that she almost fainted.
Since seeing the root statue, Yin Ci had been frozen in place. It was only when he heard the terrified cries of the young girl that he managed to regain his composure.
“That Great Goddess is a liar,” Yin Deng cried hoarsely. “Sister is here, and brother is here too. They never ascended to immortality.”
Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci exchanged glances.
Shi Jingzhi: “Don’t cry… Yin Deng, how did you come down? Do you remember?”
“I… I dreamt that my sister was crying, and I wanted to comfort her. But it seemed like she couldn’t see me, so I wanted to get closer, even closer.”
Summoning up her courage, Yin Deng lifted her head slightly and pointed to the stone platform closest to the statue.
“When I fell, I woke up. Brother saved me. He’s here…”
Previously captivated by the giant root statue, the two finally noticed the stone platforms around them.
Each small platform still had a flesh idol standing on it.
They all faced the central stone platform, resembling a hundred birds facing a phoenix. Compared to the one in the middle, they were much smaller and less exquisite. The small statues were also supported by human bones, but they were crudely made, with many distorted and deformed details, almost like…
“Trial versions,” Yin Ci whispered softly. “They are the draft of an idol.”
The situation became much clearer now—someone had built flesh idols at the bottom of this forbidden area, and they had put in a lot of effort. These statues were based on the giant root statue, and countless idols were made during the production process to ensure a flawless final product.
Thick white cloth was piled under the trial versions, and several chains were coiled around them. No wonder Su Si said the “white-clothed monsters” had their internal organs exposed; they were originally made of living flesh. The deformed flesh statues weren’t presentable, so they were wrapped in white cloth and tightly bound with ropes.
After being used as draft models, they could also serve as puppets. This “immortal” scheme was well thought out.
Considering that the residents of Yuanxian Village were completely unaware of all this, there was only one person who could have done such a thing—
In this situation, undoubtedly, it was the work of the Goddess.
But why did she create such monstrous images? What was the purpose of the flesh statues? The giant root statue was covered in climbing vines and seemed to have a history of hundreds of years, but where did it come from?
Yin Ci had wandered the mortal realm for over three hundred years, and instead of everything becoming clear, it only grew darker. Apart from monsters and Monster Material, he seemed to know nothing about the “other side” of the world.
The current scene was more absurd than his nightmare.
Thinking of the nightmare, Yin Ci couldn’t help but touch his face. This time, his facial features were intact, and there were no strange roots on his face. The familiar sensation of the ghostskin robe came through his fingers.
Shi Jingzhi remained silent for a long time. Finally, he squeezed out a bit of composure from the depths of his bones, half-squatted down, and placed his hands on Yin Deng’s shoulders.
“Yin Deng, you just said, ‘Sister is here, and brother is here’… Can you communicate with them?”
Yin Deng vigorously shook her head, wiping away the tears on her face. “They can’t—they can’t speak. But I just know.”
She pointed to the flesh idol on the central stone platform and then pointed to a draft model not far away. “That’s sister, and that’s brother. I can feel that they are here.”
Perhaps this was what people referred to when they said that human children had spiritual senses that weren’t completely closed. It was unclear how this child could recognize the statues, as all of them were bloody and indistinguishable.
Yin Ci quickly calculated in his mind.
As long as they brought Yin Deng up and exposed one of the white-clothed monsters in public, the villagers would undoubtedly notice something was wrong—then they could ignite the situation, and at least someone would willingly help them get out.
That was also one way.
…But the problem they had to worry about at the moment wasn’t that.
The Goddess knew the secrets beneath the forbidden area, yet she still allowed them to enter. It might not be so easy to leave if they wanted to.
Shi Jingzhi was evidently considering similar matters. He paced in circles, trying his best to ignore the flesh statues around them.
“A’Ci, let me carry you on my back, and you hold onto Yin Deng. Let’s try climbing back up… and see…” His eyes caught something in the corner, and he froze in place. The latter half of his sentence trembled more and more as he spoke, eventually ending in a groan.
Following Shi Jingzhi’s gaze, Yin Deng let out an inhuman scream and fainted in fright—
The giant root statue slowly moved—no, it wasn’t the statue itself, but a massive worm monster emerging from within the roots. The giant worm twisted and slid around the statue, causing a cascade of soil and stones. After a moment, it settled in place, with its head hanging down towards the group. At first glance, it looked like rotten intestines coiled around the giant root statue.
Who the hell knew which rule they had broken to disturb this thing.
Being closer, the master and disciple had no choice but got a clearer view.
The body of the giant worm was reddish-brown, with a rough and tough outer skin that resembled old tree bark. It had three pitch-black holes on its head, devoid of eyeballs. The gaps between the holes were split into three segments, resembling the divisions of a human head. Within the gaps, uneven and densely packed yellowish teeth grew, resembling human teeth. Muddy yellow saliva mixed with soil dripped down steadily.
The giant worm coiled around the tunnel, sealing off the rock wall tightly. The long, hand-like objects were scraped off, allowing them to finally see their true nature.
They were worm eggs.
The insect eggs were about half the size of a person, with hard spindle-shaped shells. One end could easily penetrate the soil and rocks, while the other end was connected to long, arm-like structures that allowed them to crawl freely. They numbered in the thousands and were quietly embedded behind the root deity statue. Now, swept away by the giant worm, the insect eggs fell continuously into the water.
The insect eggs seemed uninterested in the flesh in the pool. They surged in groups, piercing into the thick skin of the giant worm, and the deformed hands flailed about randomly.
Unfortunately, this heartwarming reunion of parent and child didn’t touch Shi Jingzhi. Fox Shi’s eyes darted around, as if he wished to end it all right there.
In comparison, the white-clothed monsters seemed quite pleasant.
But it was too late; they had long lost their way out.
Shi Jingzhi attempted to use his yang fire to cover the flag, but he himself felt like a damp matchstick, unable to produce a single spark. The giant worm opened its mouth full of teeth, and Shi Jingzhi looked like he was about to vomit again.
Yin Ci was helpless. “Shizun!”
Hearing his disciple’s cry, Shi Jingzhi regained some clarity. He gritted his teeth, wrapped the unconscious Yin Deng and the Hanging Shadow Sword together, and handed them to Yin Ci. “Since you don’t have inner force, take good care of her and hide!”
This was indeed a reasonable plan.
Faced with such a huge monster, the lack of inner force could be fatal. Shi Jingzhi could still rely on brute force to fight it, but until they discovered the giant worm’s weakness, Yin Ci could only make superficial attacks on it.
Yin Ci held Yin Deng in one arm and wielded his sword in the other, quickly jumping off the stone platform.
Shi Jingzhi, on the other hand, awkwardly leaped up and barely clung to the surface of the giant worm. In the next instant, countless insect eggs reached out towards him, visibly exploding.
The yang fire blazed, instantly igniting the long arms of the insect eggs. With a series of popping sounds, they emitted an indescribable stench. The giant worm was burned by the yang fire and struggled against the cave wall.
Shi Jingzhi inserted his flag into its thick skin, barely stabilizing himself. Yin Ci took advantage of the geography and hid beneath a withered lotus leaf in the corner, ensuring that Yin Deng wouldn’t be affected by the giant worm.
The insect eggs suffered heavy casualties, but the giant worm only sustained minor injuries. Shi Jingzhi pitifully poked at the worm’s body, resembling an ant trying to bite an elephant to death. The giant worm grew annoyed by this persistent ant. Seeing that scraping against the rock wall was ineffective, it began to curl its body and vigorously strike the wall, intending to crush the bothersome ant.
The entire forbidden area shook and rumbled as it struck, causing more intact insect eggs to fall, nearly pushing Yin Ci into the water.
It was a pity.
If Shi Jingzhi’s external martial arts were sufficient or if he could control his power with ease, this giant worm wouldn’t be his opponent. However, Shi Jingzhi had limited combat experience and was still at the stage of begging for food while holding a golden bowl*, completely unaware of how to wield his strength.
*Metaphor for having good conditions but not making good use of them and doing nothing.
After contemplating for a long time, Yin Ci couldn’t find the weakness of the worm monster either. One had the will but not the power, while the other had the power but not the will—they would only be consumed by this creature.
Yin Deng’s injuries were peculiar, and she was an important witness. She absolutely must not die down there.
In order to ensure that everyone survived, there was only one path left to take—Yin Ci had to provoke this fox.
From Yin Ci’s observation, Shi Jingzhi was most afraid of two things. First, being unable to survive, and second, losing his disciple. Currently, his fear of death was having the opposite effect, causing Shi Jingzhi to hesitate and not take action.
He needed to administer a strong stimulus to ignite that madness once again.
Just at that moment, Shi Jingzhi couldn’t hold on any longer and crashed onto the stone platform. He fell heavily and immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood. The giant worm had no intention of letting him struggle for his life, and it was about to crush him.
Yin Ci placed Yin Deng on a withered lotus leaf and rushed towards the stone platform. He held onto Shi Jingzhi, tiptoed, and both of them hung onto the stalk of an outer lotus leaf, barely stabilizing their bodies.
The giant worm brushed past the master and disciple, crashing into the stone platform where Shi Jingzhi had originally been, shattering the pillars. The broken stones shot into the shallow pool, and blood mixed with dust floated up. The draft model idol that originally stood on the stone platform was crushed into flesh and mud by the creature. It slipped back into the pool miserably, leaving a trail of blood, making the shallow pool even murkier.
“A’Ci?” Shi Jingzhi hadn’t come to his senses yet.
“Shizun, look, that thing only dares to attack the white-clothed monsters and doesn’t dare to touch the central flesh idol.” Time was of the essence, so Yin Ci got straight to the point. “Remember where you landed earlier.”
Shi Jingzhi deeply glanced at him and didn’t dawdle any longer. He grabbed the flag again and rushed out.
With a foothold, his attacks gradually became more systematic. The giant worm had been harassed by Shi Jingzhi for a long time, sustaining more and more burns on its body. It couldn’t bear it any longer, and it was growing more and more restless. Yin Ci took Yin Deng farther away and intentionally moved closer to the center of the battlefield. He made up his mind to act as a lively fish in the pond, waiting to be affected by Shi Jingzhi’s actions.
In the end, Yin Ci was indeed drawn into the battle, but it didn’t go exactly as he had planned—
Shi Jingzhi’s battle was reaching its climax. With one final blow, he could kill this worm monster.
The creature, fed up with Shi Jingzhi’s constant harassment, sustained more and more injuries. It couldn’t bear it any longer and was about to unleash a devastating strike, but suddenly, it froze in midair. After a moment, it curled up into a ring and rigidly crashed down, narrowly avoiding hitting the central stone lotus blossom in the forbidden area.
“I wondered why it was shaking so violently. It’s quite impressive that you survived for so long under the protection of the root burrower.” A cold voice resounded.
Just before the worm monster went berserk, the Goddess descended from the sky.
The insect eggs intertwined with each other, forming a net of hands that held her in mid-air. She glanced at the chaotic bottom of the forbidden place and raised her hand, releasing a spell. A tree root shot out from the stone wall, poking a large hole in the giant worm’s body.
“These foolish creatures truly lack intelligence. They almost ruined my plans.”
The giant worm screamed in pain and didn’t dare to move. The insect eggs seemed to have received some instruction. They swarmed together, intertwining their arms and hoisting the central flesh idol in mid-air, suspending it in a safe position.
Shi Jingzhi had been locked in a battle with the giant worm for a long time and had reached the end of his strength. He gasped for breath as the yang fire on his flag flickered, ultimately failing to stop those arms.
With the flesh idol gone, only a pool of living flesh remained by Shi Jingzhi’s side. Without any vulnerabilities, the Goddess’s killing intent spread like a tidal wave.
Fortunately, compared to the giant worm, the Goddess looked completely normal, and Shi Jingzhi’s courage returned somewhat. He glanced at Yin Ci’s hiding place and provocatively said, “So you decided to come down after all. Why bother? If you had come earlier to save Yin Deng, everything would have been fine.”
The Goddess sneered. “You little brat certainly have a sharp tongue. At the brink of death, you still want to protect others?”
Another tree root sinisterly pierced out, directly aiming for Shi Jingzhi. Just as he was about to adopt a defensive stance, the root suddenly changed its trajectory, accelerating abruptly and crashing into the edge where Yin Ci was hiding, forcefully pushing him into the depths of the pool and burying him in the flesh mud.
Bubbles emerged from the murky pool bottom, releasing a burst of blood, and then everything fell silent. The water surface quickly returned to calm, but Yin Ci didn’t resurface. He couldn’t struggle, not even a little.
Shi Jingzhi hadn’t anticipated that she would target his disciple. His entire being froze like ice.
The sound of water had long ceased, the giant worm no longer screamed, and there was silence all around. Shi Jingzhi felt somewhat lost. This moment was too abrupt, too fast for him to react or even confirm what had happened.
He tightly grasped the flag in his hand—although he had burned the giant worm all over, just a little more effort and they would have won. Then he could have dragged Yin Ci back to the ground, scolded him thoroughly, or perhaps even given him a beating. After dealing with this disobedient disciple, the Kushan Sect could find another way out…
They were so close to victory.
But the appearance of the Goddess completely shattered Shi Jingzhi’s joy. It was like climbing to the mountaintop in a blizzard, exhausting all his strength, only to be pushed down into the abyss by a single step.
Shi Jingzhi felt chills all over his body.
If only the Goddess had arrived a step earlier, he wouldn’t have entertained such unrealistic illusions. If she had arrived a step later, they would have already escaped from the giant worm and could have found another path. Why? Why did she have to come at this very moment?
Why did she have to casually destroy his things in front of him?
That uncontrollable emotion surged once again. Resentment, grievance, fear, and hatred mixed together, and Shi Jingzhi was too exhausted and too heartbroken. This time, he let go of the reins and no longer tried to control it.
Finally, the desire for survival ignited madness, intertwining together. A strong aura of malevolence burst forth from the depths of his weary bones.
The golden flames turned into spears, soaring into the sky.
The web of hands instantly turned to ashes. The Goddess was caught off guard, narrowly avoiding being consumed by the sea of flames. A thin root promptly caught her, saving her from being directly scorched by the flames.
Shi Jingzhi stood on the central stone platform with a blank expression and disheveled hair. The unparalleled oppressive sensation erupted once again, like a young dragon venturing into the sea or a young tiger roaring in the mountains. The draft model idols on the stone platform were pushed by the wind and fell into the water, creating numerous dazzling water splashes.
Fortunately, Shi Jingzhi remembered Yin Deng, and the whirlwind around him scattered but didn’t harm the edges.
It was said that one force could suppress ten*. Shi Jingzhi didn’t use any spells or martial arts techniques. With this almost terrifying strength alone, he indiscriminately destroyed everything above the forbidden area.
*Metaphor referring to a single individual’s power or ability is so exceptional that they can easily overcome or dominate a group of ten opponents.
The flames burned fiercer and fiercer.
The forbidden area was narrow, and the golden flames were at their peak. The Goddess struggled to evade, looking quite miserable. The heat in the air was terrifying, making it impossible to breathe normally. Her hair ends were charred, and her ethereal sleeves and skirt turned into ashes. However, with the flesh idol by her side, she didn’t dare to abandon it and escape. Instead, she futilely erected layer after layer of barriers, attempting to gain a moment of respite.
Finally, the golden flames reached the upper half of the goddess’s body. Just when she had no retreat, she opened her mouth and shouted loudly, seemingly calling for help from someone invisible. However, Shi Jingzhi’s senses were in chaos, and he couldn’t catch a single word.
All he saw was more tree roots curling over, separating the Goddess from the flames. Strangely enough, the golden flames also struck those roots, but the roots remained unscathed.
The giant worm wasn’t as fortunate. It couldn’t withstand the overwhelming golden flames. Its surface turned charred black and cracked, half-roasted while still alive.
Unfortunately, no matter how extraordinary Shi Jingzhi’s talent was, he was ultimately a mortal with a physical body. The uncontrolled yang fire had burned for a long time and gradually weakened.
But the Goddess didn’t fall.
“I underestimated you.”
Confirming that the flesh idol beside her was also protected by roots and unharmed, the Goddess disregarded her own damaged body and let out a sigh of relief. At this moment, half of her body was swollen with a dark red color, devoid of any divine aura and instead resembling an evil spirit that had infiltrated the mortal realm.
“…Humans are not gods, and their energy is limited. Even if you can still stand after using that move just now, it’s worth praising.”
Shi Jingzhi held the “Medicine Cures Illness” flag, but he couldn’t move an inch. His face was as pale as gold, sweat was pouring down, and his lips were devoid of color.
She wasn’t wrong. This time, he had almost depleted all his energy, and even breathing became extremely difficult.
However, despite suffering such a great loss, the Goddess didn’t show any resentment on her face. Instead, a hint of strange joy appeared. “Although you’ve turned this place upside down, you have quite a strong connection to the divine. Can’t you handle that pool of materials by yourself?”
Shi Jingzhi stared at her with anger, unable to muster the strength to speak. He could only exert his last bit of strength, straighten his posture, and force himself to stand.
The Goddess didn’t expect him to answer. She snorted coldly, lifted her right hand, and several tree roots surged towards them like living creatures. It seemed that they were about to entangle around him—
Ding.
The tree roots collided with a sword blade, producing a somewhat crisp sound.
An arm hooked around Shi Jingzhi’s waist, pulling him backward. The black blade flashed once again, sweeping away a malicious tree root. Shi Jingzhi slowly turned his head and saw a face that was both unfamiliar and familiar.
As cold as snow, peerlessly beautiful.
Underneath the Ghost Tomb, they had met once before.
Shi Jingzhi understood. The person in white was neither an “enemy” nor a “senior” he had caught a glimpse of. At this moment, the person used a voice that he was familiar with, but the warmth in the voice had vanished, leaving only ruthlessness and arrogance.
“It’s a pity about my ghostskin robe.”
The person whispered in his ear.
“Shizun, since I brought you in, I will definitely send you out… Don’t be angry about this matter, okay?”
The author has something to say:
Demonic Lord Yin: As long as I have the initiative, this layer of my little vest is not considered to be taken off*! (?
*Clarity: It’s an online term referring to “stripping the vest”. When someone has more than 2 IDs on a registered forum, the most commonly used or well-known ID is called the main ID, while the other IDs are called vest IDs. || In this case, Yin Ci has revealed his true form to Shi Jingzhi, but he’s not revealing his true identity so it’s not considered “stripping the vest”.
Fox Shi: ?????
Fox Shi: (Takes out a little notebook and starts recording the number of lessons owed by the disciple)
At present, the master wasn’t going mad, and the disciple wasn’t drowning either. Shi Jingzhi suppressed his anger, refraining from even grabbing Yin Ci’s hand as they walked into the pitch-black forbidden area.
Yin Ci remained vigilant, sensing the trembling in Shi Jingzhi’s footsteps, but he felt that the level of caution was somewhat exaggerated.
Now, he didn’t care about inquiring into the origins of his cheap master; he was more interested in knowing what kind of being his cheap master was.
The two of them remained in this tense atmosphere, each standing a step apart, neither uttering a word.
The forbidden area at night had no trace of light and was even darker than the Ghost Tomb. The stone steps under their feet were covered in moss and were incredibly slippery. Yin Ci had obtained a lantern from the villagers and walked cautiously. It was difficult to imagine how a child could walk with closed eyes in such a place.
When performing a play, one must act the part convincingly. Yin Ci would take a step and then pause, shining the light on each stone chamber on the cave wall.
The small chambers were almost empty, with at most some remnants of clothing or gold and silver jewelry. Not to mention corpses, they couldn’t even find a single bone.
Last time, there were too many people during the funeral, and they couldn’t observe carefully. But now, upon closer inspection, even the Paper Figurine Street was infested with bugs and rodents, yet the forbidden area was devoid of even half of a creature.
It was unclear whether it had a connection to the outside world or if spells didn’t work here, but the entire deep pit was cold and silent, like newly formed thin ice on the water’s surface, with the air frozen solid.
There was no trace of light anywhere.
The two of them wandered around, walking until they reached the end of the stone steps. The end of the steps was particularly cold, with a thin layer of ice forming on the surface of the stone, making it even more difficult to walk.
Yin Ci specifically glanced at Auntie Liu’s stone chamber, and indeed, it was empty. Only a few pieces of clothing were haphazardly mixed together, exuding a hint of sorrowful coldness.
“Neither Yin Deng nor Bai Wei are up here.” Shi Jingzhi cleared his throat. “The situation downstairs is strange. You should follow me back… Huh?!”
Suddenly, the last few stone slabs sank downward, disappearing into thin air. A cold sensation came from behind the two, and their feet were suspended in mid-air as they fell straight down.
Yin Ci leaned closer to the rock wall, grabbing Shi Jingzhi’s wrist with one hand and reaching for the edge of a stone chamber with the other.
He didn’t care about himself, but if Shi Jingzhi were to fall, he would become a lump of fox meat. Yin Ci might be seeking death, but he hadn’t planned on dragging another companion along on the journey to the underworld.
Besides, he might not necessarily die.
Yin Ci firmly held onto the stone platform, gradually regaining his strength, when he suddenly felt an unfamiliar sensation on the back of his hand.
Something was caressing his hand.
Yin Ci raised his head abruptly, squinting his eyes. The lantern had fallen not far above, and there was still a flicker of fire, allowing him to vaguely make out the situation—
A hand reached out from within the stone chamber.
…They had just checked a moment ago, and all the stone chambers were empty.
But that hand did exist. It was extremely withered, resembling a dried corpse, and its shape was quite peculiar, with fingers longer than those of an ordinary person.
The touch of the hand was icy cold and dry, without a hint of warmth.
The hand stretched out from the depths of the stone chamber, resembling the delicate legs of a spider. It bent at an angle that didn’t conform to human structure, gently prying open Yin Ci’s fingers.
Yin Ci remained silent as he slid down quietly. He feared that if Shi Jingzhi saw this thing, he would be frightened out of his wits, and saving him would be even more troublesome.
Shi Jingzhi simply assumed that Yin Ci couldn’t bear his weight. Taking advantage of the situation, he adjusted his posture and thrust the flag forward. The clear silver bamboo pole lit by the yang fire was inserted into the stone wall like a block of tofu.
The two of them descended for a while, awkwardly suspended in mid-air. They had an intimate encounter with the white-robed creature hanging on the wall. As they drew closer, the stench of blood and flesh became even more pronounced. The white-robed creature remained motionless, yet possessed a warmth reminiscent of a living person, making them extremely uncomfortable.
Shi Jingzhi’s expression fluctuated, seemingly wanting to let go and be done with it.
On the other hand, Yin Ci firmly held onto the chain, suspending himself together with the white-robed creature.
“Shizun, what should we do?”
With the situation urgent, Shi Jingzhi no longer held a grudge against his disciple. After steadying his emotions for a moment, his whole body burst into yang fire, illuminating the area above them.
His original intention seemed to be to illuminate the surroundings, figure out how far they had slipped, and calculate the distance to climb back. However, as soon as he shed light on the situation, Shi Jingzhi saw it too clearly.
Numerous long and slender hands extended from various stone chambers, forming a web above them, clearly indicating that they were not meant to ascend.
Now things were even worse. Shi Jingzhi, who was unprepared, trembled all over. He slid down a section of the bamboo pole, almost falling straight down. Yin Ci grabbed him and said with great seriousness, “Since we can’t go up for the time being, we might as well go down and take a look.”
Shi Jingzhi gulped and swallowed his saliva. “A’Ci, are you serious?”
The forbidden area was within reach, and Yin Ci couldn’t be bothered to act or beat around the bush. He got straight to the point. “The Goddess has become wary of both of us. Even if we manage to escape now, it will be difficult to obtain any other information. Shizun, since we’ve come…”
Shi Jingzhi couldn’t decide whether the terrifying aspect was the hand web above or his disciple saying “since we’ve come” in the face of this situation.
However, what Yin Ci said was indeed reasonable. If they didn’t enter the tiger’s den, how could they catch the tiger’s cub? Shi Jingzhi didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in Yuanxian Village. He looked up at the hand web and took a deep breath. “Lend me the Hanging Shadow Sword.”
The two of them awkwardly switched positions in midair. Shi Jingzhi held the “Medicine Cures Illness” flag in one hand and the Hanging Shadow Sword in the other, alternating between inserting them into the rock wall, steadily descending. Yin Ci embraced his master’s neck, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings.
The further down they went, the more white-robed creatures there were. They hung silently at the ends of iron chains, varying in size from dozens to hundreds. As they delved deeper, the stench of rotting flesh grew stronger, making them nauseous.
It was unknown whether Fox Shi’s nose could withstand it.
After climbing down for an unknown length of time, the two of them finally caught sight of a faint glimmer.
They had reached the bottom of this bottomless forbidden area. From a distance, they could see countless peculiar-shaped objects at the bottom of the pit, resembling enormous withered lotus leaves. A jade-green liquid flowed out from an unknown source, winding its way down and forming a thin layer of water at the bottom of the forbidden area, reflecting a soft shimmering blue light.
The bottom of the water was covered in dark-colored silt, seemingly mixed with something, but from their distance, the two couldn’t make out the details.
In the center of the shallow pond, surrounded by these numerous “lotus leaves” stood a deformed “lotus pod” made of stone.
Its convex and concave shape was opposite to that of an ordinary lotus pod. It resembled an empty bowl, filled with a luminous green liquid. Several cylindrical stone platforms stood within the bowl with their tops protruding above the liquid surface, varying in size. From top to bottom, they vaguely resembled dark “lotus seeds”.
Occasionally, liquid overflowed from the edge of the stone lotus seed. It flowed intermittently, cascading into the water below, creating a gurgling sound like a waterfall.
This was the only lively scene in the pit. Everything else was desolate and stagnant, enveloped in a peculiar sense of tranquility.
Having witnessed the man-eating lake in the Ghost Tomb’s second level, Shi Jingzhi didn’t want to touch any unknown liquid. Leaning on the flagpole for leverage, he pushed himself up the wall, rushing towards the outermost stone platform of the “lotus pod”. Compared to their first encounter, Shi Jingzhi’s movements were more coordinated this time. He even found the time to change his posture, holding Yin Ci horizontally in his arms.
However, his landing wasn’t ideal.
It took more than a day to freeze three feet of ice*. Despite diligently practicing his external martial arts for a few days, Shi Jingzhi still lacked proficiency. If it weren’t for his disciple acting as a cushion below, Shi Jingzhi would have nearly stopped abruptly with his face.
*(冰冻三尺非一日之寒) Proverb that emphasizes the idea that significant achievements or profound change require time, effort, and perseverance (AKA Rome was not built in a day).
The two of them barely stopped at the edge of the stone platform, with less than a yard of space. They narrowly avoided rolling down.
Yin Ci, cushioned by his master’s flesh, couldn’t move and was firmly squashed. Rarely, golden stars flashed before his eyes, and for a moment, he didn’t want to say anything.
Shi Jingzhi, who almost flattened his disciple like a dumpling wrapper, felt embarrassed as he climbed up. “A’Ci, just now… urgh!”
He didn’t finish his sentence as his complexion changed, and he turned his head to vomit.
Yin Ci quickly got up and saw the reason behind Shi Jingzhi’s vomiting—
There were people.
Underneath the translucent liquid resembling jade, numerous people lay. Dozens of individuals were in the lotus stone bowls, while there were hundreds more in the shallow ponds surrounding them.
Well, perhaps “lay” wasn’t quite accurate. Those people no longer resembled humans. They were naked, as if molded from the softest colored wax and slowly melted, their bodies turning into a viscous paste. Their flesh sank underwater, with dark red muscles protruding outward, mingling with their internal organs, forming a strange and grotesque red mud.
Yet they were still alive.
Many eyeballs hadn’t completely melted and were slowly rotating within the gaps between bones. Twisted hearts floated above their flesh, beating laboriously. Blood flowed extremely slowly through the deformed skin.
Yin Ci didn’t know if these people still had any consciousness, and he hoped they didn’t.
This wasn’t the kind of death he sought.
Shi Jingzhi vomited for a long time before finally recovering his composure. Under the pale light, his complexion wasn’t much different from that of a dead person.
“I smell Auntie Liu.” Shi Jingzhi trembled. “I’ve given her medicine before, so I remember its scent.”
At this moment, Yin Ci didn’t have the mindset to tease him. Shi Jingzhi was only twenty-seven years old, not some mentally twisted lunatic. Seeing such a scene suddenly was naturally overwhelming.
Even someone as knowledgeable as Yin Ci was momentarily horrified.
The Ghost Tomb was strange, but all those peculiarities were still within the realm of “humanly desires”. However, what lay before their eyes was different. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t made by human hands.
Yin Ci silently approached and let Shi Jingzhi bury his face in his shoulder. It seemed as if Shi Jingzhi had found a lifeline as he held onto his disciple tightly, taking deep breaths for quite a while before barely calming down.
Knowing the true nature of the red mud in the shallow pond made the stench in the air particularly nauseating.
“Shh.” Yin Ci patted his back. “I have a strong destiny, capable of overcoming evil spirits. Remember, Shizun?”
“I remember.” Shi Jingzhi wiped the corner of his mouth and weakly smiled. “Now I understand what happened to the acacia bean. Bai Wei… he might be here.”
Neither alive nor dead, the acacia bean couldn’t turn to ashes and couldn’t maintain its original form.
As if hearing their conversation, a small sob suddenly emanated from the chaotic shadows. Shi Jingzhi stiffened, unsure, and raised his voice slightly, “Yin Deng?”
The sob immediately turned into a mournful wail, and now both of them heard it clearly. It was indeed the voice of a young girl. The voice came from the central stone platform, not too far from where they stood.
The master and disciple were standing on a small stone platform at the edge. Shi Jingzhi staggered to his feet and began moving toward the center of the stone lotus.
The fluorescence was weak, and at such a short distance, shadows could easily engulf the appearance of things. From this perspective, there were figures standing on the other stone platforms. Those things remained motionless, standing at about nine feet tall, certainly not the size of a little girl.
If they wanted to reach the central stone platform, the two of them couldn’t avoid them.
The master and disciple seemed to reach a silent agreement and refrained from acting rashly. Shi Jingzhi didn’t dare ignite his yang fire, afraid of alarming them. Both of them held their breath and carefully avoided each eerie silhouette, relying solely on the faint fluorescence as they stealthily made their way towards the center of the stone platform.
Upon reaching the central stone platform and confirming the silence around them, Shi Jingzhi finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Located in the center of the pit, where the fluorescence was slightly brighter, they finally got a clear view of the central stone platform.
Standing on the platform was an unfinished towering statue of a deity, and Yin Deng was sobbing at its feet. She curled up into a dark red bundle, motionless, like a fallen fruit for offerings.
Not to mention the young Yin Deng, even Shi Jingzhi hesitated to move after getting a clear look at the deity.
The deity was approximately thirteen feet tall—quite massive—and of a common size seen during the Yun Dynasty. They even recognized the appearance of the statue, which was also very common—it depicted the national deity of Great Yun’s state religion, the Imperial Celestial.
However, it wasn’t an ordinary clay statue.
Its framework wasn’t made of iron or wood but of genuine human bones.
Countless human bones were used in its construction, forming a delicate and symmetrical structure. Rows of arm bones, bundles of leg bones, neatly assembled pelvic bones, and interwoven rib bones. Different-sized skulls were strung together, stacked in an orderly manner. Even human teeth became part of the sculpting props, densely embedded together.
The bone surface was covered in flesh membranes, with blood vessels and tendons inseparable, tightly binding the skeletal structure of the deity. Viscous flesh paste was layered on top, compressed, and molded into the divine body and garments. To ensure the flesh remained intact, tiny light green fibers were mixed into the flesh paste, identical to those emanating from Yin Deng’s eyes.
Within the intricately constructed skeleton, a large mass of hearts was intertwined, beating lightly and slowly. Some deformed eyes could be seen within the flesh paste, their gazes scattered as if lost in a dream.
…A living flesh idol.
Currently, only half of its flesh body had been sculpted, with one side vivid and the other skeletal. The finer details weren’t deeply carved, indicating that it was clearly an unfinished work. Its head had not been sculpted with distinct features; only a rough structure was outlined, with the flesh paste loosely stretched over it, and delicate blood vessels clearly visible.
The deity slightly bowed its head with its movements exuding a bone-chilling sense of compassion, similar to the Goddess.
Yin Deng lay at the foot of this colossal entity with her left arm deformed from some impact, with traces of the flesh paste’s texture showing through.
Shi Jingzhi took two steps forward, attempting to hold her. Suddenly, a green light flashed, and he unknowingly activated some kind of spell, instantly flooding the entire underground space with light. Bright beams came from all directions, dazzling their eyes.
All shadows disappeared into nothingness, and the complete view of the underground space appeared before them.
Yin Ci didn’t have a chance to observe the details around them. Previously, the darkness was dense, and they could only see where the fluorescence illuminated. Now that everything had taken form, it added the final straw to everyone’s nerves, pushing them to the brink of collapse.
After the flesh idol, a truly colossal idol was revealed.
The statue was embedded in the cave wall, with only its massive head and part of the upper body exposed. If it weren’t for the fact that half of the head was embedded in the wall, this statue could completely block the pit.
It was undoubtedly not formed by human hands—this statue was composed of countless intertwined tree roots, showing no trace of deliberate intervention.
The deity slightly leaned forward, as if observing the people, and the bright light illuminated its facial features formed by the intertwined roots.
The Imperial Celestial had a face that appeared somewhat androgynous, with a beautiful and plump appearance. However, unlike the statues worshiped in temples, there was no trace of compassion between its eyebrows; only boundless indifference. The slender arms hung at the edge of the statue, twisted and contorted like dying ghost spiders.
Shi Jingzhi supported himself with the flagpole as he stared in disbelief. His whole body seemed about to collapse, but he managed to stand firm, avoiding sitting on the ground.
His face turned pale, and he murmured, “We came too early. We should have let Yan Qing divinate first. At the very least, we should have brought that goose along.”
Yin Ci remained silent.
He stood directly in front of the flesh deity. From this angle, the two statues complemented each other, creating an extremely eerie beauty.
In front, scattered bones and flesh; behind, countless plants and trees. The scene was no different from the myriad of creatures in the world.
For some unknown reason, a subtle sense of familiarity arose in Yin Ci’s heart. This place was clearly not his place of burial, yet it felt like some kind of destiny.
How absurd.
The author has something to say:
Shi Jingzhi: If I am guilty, the law should punish me instead of taking me on a tour of the underworld attractions _(;з」∠)_
Yin Ci: This master worship is too lively, but it’s lively in the wrong direction _(;з」∠)_
Facing the request for peace talks from the new leader, the synthetic humans agreed quite readily. Considering that Y City was still in the process of recovery, the humans first dispatched a team of medical experts to the synthetic humans as a gesture of goodwill.
Apart from external personnel like Ai Xiaoxiao, the medical team consisted mainly of synthetic human doctors from the border outpost, which didn’t hinder the post-disaster reconstruction of Y City. The United Government didn’t throw obstacles in Zhu Yanchen’s way—in fact, no one dared to obstruct Zhu Yanchen now.
During peacetime, this person had abandoned a comfortable life and personally engaged in highly lethal research on the erosion substance. Now, while the chaos in the city hadn’t yet subsided, this person promptly launched a coup d’état, killing his own father and directly obtaining the leadership of the United Government.
The elders of the three major families also wanted to make a fuss in this murder case, but unfortunately, according to regulations, the leader of the United Government did have special authority for execution during special circumstances. When Zhu Sheng was killed, there was not a single confidant in the room. The conversation between father and son was not facing the camera, making it difficult to discern the content. In the end, with no one making waves, everyone could only listen quietly to Zhu Yanchen’s instructions.
Xia Liang vividly recounted these events, and Ai Xiaoxiao’s ears were almost deafened by her.
“Why did you follow along?” Ai Xiaoxiao rubbed her ears in frustration.
“After all, he’s quite famous.” Xia Liang innocently blinked her eyes. “I have a performance to attend, so this is also the humans’ sincerity, right?”
“…Why do I feel like it’s more like escapism?” Ai Xiaoxiao rolled her eyes.
“You’re being too harsh! Zhu Yanchen will definitely reorganize the Xia family. It’s awkward for me, so it’s better if I’m not present.” Xia Liang shrugged her nose, trying to put on a cute expression, but the girl opposite her wasn’t buying it.
“We’re not here to have fun. Just stay put and don’t cause trouble.”
“At least I’ve made some contributions during the war…”
“Well, your command was good. Truly impressive,” Ai Xiaoxiao sarcastically interrupted, lacking sincerity. “At that time, we were busy saving people and didn’t get to witness your heroic appearance.”
Saying that, she half-leaned on the reclining chair, about to close her eyes for a nap.
“Tsk. I don’t believe it. You must have some gossip you want to hear!” Xia Liang’s voice sharpened, filled with pent-up frustration.
Unable to bear it any longer, Ai Xiaoxiao sat up straight, sighed for a moment, and took out a coffee-flavored lollipop, carefully unwrapping the candy wrapper. “…How is Yi Ning doing?”
Xia Liang’s expression froze for a few seconds. “Ah, him…you know, right? His right eye couldn’t be saved, and his right arm is also crippled. He’ll have to use a prosthetic for the rest of his life.”
“I know about that.”
“I heard that he wanted to go to the synthetic humans’ side but was refused by Zhu Yanchen, who said he hadn’t fully recovered… I don’t know what he’s thinking.”
“…Who knows.” Ai Xiaoxiao looked up at the sky above.
This time, Xia Liang couldn’t help but roll her eyes. This conversation was a disaster. Despite just starting to develop some favorable impressions of Ai Xiaoxiao, her enthusiasm was about to be chilled by the other person. “Fine, tell me. The weather seems to have improved recently? Do you know what’s going on?”
“It has improved a bit.”
These days, the erosion substance around the city was gradually dissipating. The city had suffered heavy losses, and Zhu Yanchen hadn’t had time to clean up the erosion yet. However, the erosion was spontaneously retreating and flowing towards the outskirts.
The new Sigma inherited the information from the previous one, but its mind seemed to be lacking something. Compared to the previous one, Monday was much lazier, and there was a vast difference in logical thinking. It clearly didn’t intend to fully adopt its predecessor’s understanding.
“Monday has a very simple mind. To give an analogy, you can’t make a dog spontaneously understand philosophical works.”
“But the previous Sigma wasn’t intelligent either, right? The information is the same.” Xia Liang sympathized with Monday for a few seconds.
“The previous Sigma was born and grew from the death and hatred of the synthetic humans. It had a natural sensitivity and affinity for ‘hatred’… Well, how should I put it, the original Sigma was like a ‘participant in the events’. Do you understand?”
“…I guess.”
“But Monday is different. It was born naturally. And after acquiring consciousness, it was pampered by certain people. The information transmitted by Sigma hasn’t changed, but Monday now has its own thoughts and stance. It’s more like an ‘observer of the events’ and won’t be so stubborn. The land environment was never suitable for the growth of the Erosion Swamp. These substances are spontaneously leaving, probably in response to Monday’s call… The damp, dark, and high-pressure underwater environment is more suitable for them.”
“Sigma…”
“The original Sigma followed its instincts to come to the seaside, and reason told it that hatred is advantageous for survival. It wanted to eliminate humans as a threat and then settle peacefully underwater.”
“Wait, wait. So, if humans hadn’t developed synthetic humans in the first place…”
“In less than two hundred years, the erosion would have dispersed on its own.”
“…”
“The farce of two hundred years is finally over.” Ai Xiaoxiao still looked at the sky. “Be happy. Our generation might be able to see the blue sky.”
The thick clouds gradually thinned, bringing more brightness to the sky and the earth.
…However, it couldn’t make someone’s mood any better.
Yi Ning stood near the central square, with the bandage on his right eye already removed. His pupil had turned into a murky gray, almost blending with the eyeball itself, and there were scars around the eye socket caused by erosion. His right side was more seriously injured, still wrapped in numerous bandages, making him look somewhat bloated. The sleeve on his right arm hung empty, fluttering in the wind.
He stood in silence at the spot where Luo Duan had died. Luo Duan had completely transformed into a shower of erosion, and even if there were witnesses, they could only point out a rough location.
Yi Ning’s right cheek was covered in scars, and he wore a face mask. People coming and going were busy with post-disaster reconstruction, and no one noticed him.
Except for a certain professional slacker.
“Why are you here? Ah, I’m Xia Yufeng, who assisted Zhu Yanchen a while ago.” Xia Yufeng wiped his nose.
He still wore his disguise and calculated how to ask Zhu Yanchen for some cooperation fees. In the end, he had helped in some way, so he deserved some money. After all, he had saved quite a few people from the settlements!
Thinking about it, Xia Yufeng felt particularly satisfied, wishing he could puff his chest even higher. Perhaps he was a genius like Zhu Yanchen, but he excelled at discerning people’s identities and reading their expressions. Yi Ning was still a marshal, so it wouldn’t hurt to build a good relationship.
“I once sheltered him for a while.” Yi Ning glanced at Xia Yufeng and said calmly.
“Him?”
“Luo Duan. For a period of time, I hid him in the command center. To put it bluntly, I believed he was involved in the synthetic humans’ rebellion and had some utilitarian value. But to tell you the truth, he had helped me a lot before, and we were superiors and subordinates for many years. I thought I understood him… I thought we were friends to some extent.”
Xia Yufeng took a controlled breath.
“When the conflict erupted, I believed that it was Shu Jun’s doing. Luo Duan was old enough and had a stable personality, so it was impossible for him to be involved in such things… Even if he knew the truth, his fiancée had died a long time ago. They hadn’t seen each other for a long time, so he wouldn’t have strong emotions. After all, such things are not uncommon among synthetic humans… Was I being self-righteous?”
‘I shouldn’t have talked to him,’ Xia Yufeng thought sorrowfully. This topic was too heavy, and he didn’t know how to respond.
“I became soft-hearted towards him, even fantasizing that we could have a good collaboration.” Yi Ning spoke slowly, touching the empty sleeve. “How should I put it? I bear half the responsibility for this war.”
“You’re being too harsh on yourself. It’s just that Luo Duan was too cunning. No one could have done anything about it.”
“I almost became the leader. ‘Not noticing’ is negligence, ‘misjudgment’ is a sin… I think the reason why Zhu Sheng chose death was also for this reason. We are guilty.”
“Oh, no one would blame you for that. You performed exceptionally well in this war, and everyone was moved…”
“Is that so?” Yi Ning asked quietly.
“Of course! Luo Duan went crazy, and the way he went mad, anyone would…”
“Zhu Yanchen couldn’t perceive it either?”
Xia Yufeng choked for a moment and couldn’t continue. Yi Ning smiled.
“I don’t care about people’s evaluations. I just regret… Why couldn’t I have discovered it earlier? As Luo Duan’s superior, if I had understood him as an individual or joined forces with Zhu Yanchen earlier, could this war have been avoided? If I had played a bigger role, would the number of casualties have been lower?”
“Just being pushed into this position as a figurehead for the Tang family, I thought my behavior was already correct. Isn’t it ironic?”
Xia Yufeng searched his mind but couldn’t find comforting words. Yi Ning was stating facts, and he could tell.
But what could he say? No one can condemn you?
Seeing Xia Yufeng fall into silence, Yi Ning didn’t continue speaking. He just stared deeply at the square after the erosion rain, his gaze sweeping over the mottled marks on the cobblestones, as if he wanted to engrave them in his mind.
Finally, he lifted his head and looked at the cloud-filled sky.
“The clouds are dispersing,” he said. “It’s nice.”
“Yeah, you…” Xia Yufeng hurriedly seized onto this relatively positive statement, but before he could finish, Yi Ning took something out of his pocket—
It was a small bottle filled with dark, viscous liquid, with a sample label from the command center. Yi Ning swiftly opened the cap and poured it onto his remaining left eye. Xia Yufeng was so frightened that he froze in place, unable to even extend his hand.
The erosion substance made a hissing sound as it made contact with the eyeball. Yi Ning covered his eye, bending over in pain, his face turning red—yet he didn’t utter a word.
Yi Ning silently crouched there for more than ten minutes. When he raised his head again, his left eye was in a similar condition to his right eye. The pupil became opaque, turning into a murky grayish-blue color.
“I’m going to trouble you next, Mr. Xia,” Yi Ning said softly, extending a hand. “Can you take me to the command center?”
“Please, please, please don’t do something reckless!”
“No, I still have a lot to learn and a lot of work to do.” Yi Ning wiped off the erosion from his face, unconcerned. “I just want to remember these few days forever. Memories will fade when I see too many clear skies in the future.”
Xia Yufeng stared blankly at the person in front of him, suddenly losing his enthusiasm for self-promotion.
“I understand,” he said softly. “I’ll take you back.”
The reconstruction of Y City took a full month.
As the new leader, Zhu Yanchen nearly drained the resources of the three major families. Fortunately, after a month, the square regained its tidy appearance. The houses weren’t yet fully built, but the outskirts of the city were filled with sturdy temporary structures. About half of the war wounded had recovered, and many people returned to their homes.
In terms of food, the military hunted a large number of mutant beasts in the surrounding areas, processing them with suppression and purification devices to produce protein bars for the population. Vitamins were supplied through medication, and combined with the government’s food reserves, there was no famine.
Most importantly, the clouds that had lingered for two hundred years finally dispersed by more than half. The translucent blue sky appeared, and the sunlight painted the gray ruins with a warm golden hue. As the erosion receded, verdant shoots emerged from the wreckage. With hope in sight, few people complained about the post-disaster living conditions; they were even more motivated than before the disaster.
Hope was more effective than anything else.
However, when the synthetic humans entered the city, the atmosphere became noticeably tense. The wounds of war weren’t as painful anymore, but they were still glaringly open. Whether it was Zhang Duan or Luo Duan causing the trouble, it was the synthetic humans who were seen as the culprits, and that was undeniably true to the public.
Shu Jun spent a month in the synthetic humans’ territory and his complexion improved significantly. He still wore the uniform made of erosion, with his gray-white hair and eyes exposed without any concern for the whispers of the residents of Y City.
The reconciliation negotiations were broadcast live in their entirety.
“Oh, is that who I think it is?” Uncle Pan almost dropped the cup in his hand, muttering to himself. “Gray Claw is so impressive? What about Smoke? Oh no, could it be…”
With lingering fear, he glanced at Zhu Yanchen’s figure, then at the nameplate of the current leader, and decisively decided to play dumb.
“Gray Claw? He’s quite formidable.” Uncle Xiong was sitting at the counter, drinking, completely unaware of his brother’s mental activity. “But, to say… the new leader’s explanation of the war is too straightforward, isn’t it? Even if it’s humanity’s fault, we still need some face, right?”
“Hey, believe it or not, there are still people who refuse to believe it, even when it’s put in front of them like this.” Uncle Xiong started wiping the glasses again, making a squeaking sound against the glass. “But at least the situation has improved a bit. Smoke… Young Master Zhu is quite impressive, with the elite of Y City supporting him. They shouldn’t cause too much trouble.”
“They’re still considered elites.” Uncle Xiong snorted. “We have medicine now, and the erosion has receded. The erosion zone is buried with a lot of treasures that won’t be fully excavated for ten or twenty years. In a few more months, we’ll be able to dig all the way to the seaside. Brother, you need to expand the inn. The number of guests will surely increase. If we act early, we might even become richer than those people in Y City—now they’re begging me to go to Y City, but I won’t!”
“Why are you so smug? Tone it down.”
“Boss, give me some pancakes with a side of sauce!” The person on the other side of the counter hiccupped. “And also, cut me another plate of meat. I just finished running the goods. Money is not an issue!”
“Alright!” Uncle Pan put down the cup and had a big smile on his face.
“Oh my goodness.”
The customer who ordered the pancake was also watching the live broadcast of the reconciliation meeting. When he saw the compensation agreement part, he suddenly became sober.
“This is too exaggerated, right? We didn’t benefit much from it, so why should we compensate so much? Compensation for goods and people, and lifetime guarantees?! No, this Zhu guy is just a bully, acting tough on the inside but too soft on the outside, isn’t he?”
“Well, it’s the United Government who’s paying.”
Uncle Xiong was still considering his money-making plans, not concerned at all.
“Taking care of thirty thousand people until they die of old age isn’t that exaggerated. The synthetic humans already said it, right? They won’t live with humans anymore. They want to claim a piece of land in the ruins of X City. How we lived before is how we’ll live in the future; no impact.”
“That’s what they say… Tss, they even got the hibernation pods?”
“Why do you care? Have you used them?”
“They look valuable, so I can’t care about them? How much could one of them be sold for? If you ever come across one, don’t dig it up. Leave it for me—”
“You wish.”
“I’m just not comfortable with it! Even if it was humanity’s fault for the situation with the synthetic humans, looking at this war alone, they didn’t suffer much damage, did they? So many ordinary people died in Y City. Even Zhu Lao himself died. It seems like humanity is the one who suffered more. The synthetic humans are taking advantage of the situation…”
“Shh, shh! It’s better to be polite before resorting to force. Humanity is raising objections! Be quiet and listen!”
On the screen, Zhu Yanchen intertwined his fingers with an expressionless face. “…The above is the compensation proposal we put forward, but this proposal comes with a condition.”
“Please.” Shu Jun sat with a somewhat slouched posture, looking a bit like a troublemaker.
“There is currently a large amount of erosion seeping into the seabed, and we have discovered traces of the new Sigma. Based on its actions, it still intends to return inland. It used to obey the synthetic humans, and we must consider the risks involved.”
“I raised Monday, that’s right.” Shu Jun smiled like a sated fox. “So?”
“As a precondition for compensation, both sides need to maintain a balance of power. With you and Sigma, humans are at a clear disadvantage.” Zhu Yanchen’s blank expression fluctuated slightly, revealing a hint of helplessness in his eyes.
Beside Zhu Yanchen, representatives from the three major families let out a collective sigh of relief, showing expressions of approval and reassurance.
“Speak your mind, Mr. Zhu.” Shu Jun spoke slowly, his smile deepening.
Zhu Yanchen made a gesture, and a glass container resembling a coffin appeared on the screen in the conference room.
“Our proposal is to construct a ‘hibernation chamber’. We have developed devices that can keep the erosion in a prolonged state of dormancy. We hope that you will enter it and go into a state of deep sleep. The entrance keys to the hibernation chambers will be divided into two, with one held by humans and the other by synthetic humans.”
“Surname Zhu, you fucking—!” Hu Yan stood up abruptly, his neck veins bulging with anger. He seemed eager to rush out and beat Zhu Yanchen, but he was reluctantly held back by two synthetic humans beside him.
“If you are willing to do this, we agree to allow you to retain control over Sigma and faithfully fulfill the previous compensation agreement.”
“We are only thirty thousand people, and Monday is just something that eats without doing anything. Zhu Yanchen, you’ve gone too far in bullying us!” Hu Yan gritted his teeth.
Meanwhile, at Uncle Pan’s inn.
“…I’m starting to sympathize with the synthetic humans.” The customer who ordered the pancake took a sharp breath and took a bite of it. “The Zhu family is still the Zhu family, but this is too ruthless. Going directly for their leader?”
“It’s a situation that couldn’t be helped. Did you see that black wolf that day? It was incredibly strong. If he hadn’t gone after Shu Jun, the three major families would have found an opportunity to overthrow him sooner or later. Not to mention the three major families, wouldn’t you be afraid if you were in his shoes?”
“That’s true… Haa, the synthetic humans have no choice but to agree. But, no matter how you look at it, it’s too much, you know? It’s clearly a feeling of being bullied. They did save us, after all…”
“Haa…”
The smile on Shu Jun’s face froze for a few seconds as he stared deeply at Zhu Yanchen, not saying a word for a while.
“A’Yan.” When Shu Jun spoke again, he changed the topic while maintaining his casual posture. “When Blackbirds and Groundwater had their final match, do you know what I was thinking the moment I jumped into the Erosion Swamp?”
Zhu Yanchen remained silent.
“At that moment, I thought, we’ve known each other for so long, and I haven’t even seen your face… After the competition, I wanted to meet you, and have a nice meal together. If you were similar to what I imagined, and if you didn’t have a partner, I wanted to confess my feelings to you.”
The customer who ordered the pancake almost choked on it, coughing violently and nearly falling off his chair.
“What the fuck is going on here?” After catching his breath, he almost shouted. “What’s the relationship between those two? Our leader and the other side…are they in that kind of relationship?”
This time, Uncle Xiong didn’t have time to pay attention to him. With one hand holding the wine bottle at an angle, he stared at the screen without blinking, unaware that the alcohol was overflowing from his glass.
“Before I knew who you were, I already liked you a bit.” Shu Jun stood up, leaning on the edge of the table, still wearing a smile on his face. “Although this isn’t a restaurant and the environment is relatively formal…listen carefully, I still like you.”
Zhu Yanchen’s expression became extremely complex for a moment.
“I feel the same way,” he softly responded after a while.
“That’s all I wanted to say.” Shu Jun sat back in his chair. “Your conditions are good, and I agree. Also, I will make sure Hu Yan and the others train Monday well, so you don’t have to worry.”
“Captain—!”
“Lao Hu, humans won’t be at a disadvantage. Didn’t you already know that?”
With Shu Jun suddenly making this move, no one had the mood for further discussion. Not only the attendees on the human side, but even the representatives from the synthetic humans were all in a daze. Only Shu Jun, the directly involved party, remained composed, wearing a smile as if nothing had happened.
The humans fulfilled their promise. Under close supervision, Shu Jun stayed for three days, watching the representatives of the synthetic humans depart. Afterwards, he was carefully escorted into the hibernation chamber and laid down in the glass container without uttering a word.
Only when he closed his eyes did a faint smile remain on his face. The footage from the hibernation chamber was also being played in real-time for the high-level officials of both sides to observe.
In the partially reconstructed X City.
“Damn it!” Hu Yan looked at Shu Jun sleeping in the glass container and pounded the table with force. “Zhu Yanchen is really a bastard, so this is where he set the trap…couldn’t he just keep Monday as a hostage? Can’t he show a bit of gratitude? Our captain, he—”
“So what?” a cheerful voice interrupted.
“So what?!” Hu Yan angrily exclaimed, then realized that something was off—the voice that asked the question seemed somewhat familiar.
“Oh, A’Yan almost drove me crazy,” Shu Jun said, holding a large bag of egg cakes with half of one stuffed in his mouth. “Those lines we discussed before didn’t have all that. The atmosphere was too good, and I couldn’t resist.”
Hu Yan: “…………”
Hu Yan glanced at the screen showing the hibernation chamber, then looked at Shu Jun, and then looked back at the screen.
“Don’t keep looking, Lao Hu. I’m afraid you’ll twist your neck off. Here, take this. It’s a specialty I brought from Y City. It’s delicious.” Shu Jun placed the bag of egg cakes on the table and stretched lazily. “There’s no way I would leave you guys unattended. Look, the captain of the Blackbirds is still trembling. How can you take over so many people all at once? I haven’t had enough of being captain, so how could I let you take advantage of me first?”
“Captain…”
“Considering that I’m officially in ‘hibernation’, I’ll have to hang it over your head for now. Don’t worry about it.”
“Captain!”
“Yes?”
“…Did you even deceive your own people?!”
“The people of the three major families are all smart. I can still pretend to be mysterious when I’m alone, but if all of you knew, it would be too easy to slip up. Forget about it, just to keep it from them, A’Yan practiced with me for three days and nights.” Shu Jun touched his face, still feeling a lingering fear. “My face hurt from all the smiling, haa.”
Hu Yan’s eyes were red. He sniffled, stood there feeling helpless for a while, and tremblingly took a small cake.
“I’m sorry.” Seeing that Hu Yan was about to cry, Shu Jun stopped joking around and honestly lowered his head. “Considering the pressure from the three major families and the attitudes of the human population, we believe this is the best course of action. Also, don’t spread the fact that I’m still active outside… I imagine many people here wouldn’t be able to accept the fact that I’m a large-scale Erosion Swamp.”
“Never mind, later you have to let me beat you up properly.” Hu Yan took a bite of the cake, trying his best to hide the choked-up sound in his voice. “What about the one inside the hibernation chamber?”
“It’s a shell made of erosion using the ability of the Mirror Erosion Swamp,” Shu Jun quickly explained. “Stop sobbing, ah.”
“Captain.”
“Hmm?”
“Your public confession wasn’t just for the sake of confessing, right?”
“Huh?”
“Are you afraid that Zhu Yanchen’s age will cause humans to have doubts? You’re urging him to make you the First Lady or something.” Hu Yan chewed the cake and glanced sideways at Shu Jun. “By making such a scene, I bet no one dares to bring up that topic. You wish to have Smoke remain single his whole life, and ensure the humans understand it—being overshadowed by the head of the Erosion Swamp, if someone wants to pursue him, they’d better think twice.”
“Oh, why are you being so blunt?” Shu Jun stuffed the cake into Hu Yan’s mouth, pretending to be coy and shy. “After all, he’s mine, so of course, no one else is allowed to have thoughts about him.”
Hu Yan couldn’t bear to look at him and turned his head away.
“Don’t we have a reunion hug?”
“Get lost!”
“Alright, alright, I’m leaving.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Hu Yan wiped his eyes and quickly swallowed the cake in his mouth.
“A date!” Shu Jun crouched on the windowsill. “I just came back to explain it to you so you wouldn’t be heartbroken. Remember to tell the Blackbirds few cadres not to get emotional.”
“…Didn’t you just come back from Y City?”
“I’m going to pick up Monday! That troublesome thing is still craving for erosion candy and crawled back on its own. If it runs to Y City, it will cause chaos again. A’Yan has been busy lately, and he finally found an excuse to slip out. It’s not easy for us either.”
Shu Jun smiled brightly.
“I’m not very good at managing a city. I have to learn more from him in this aspect, and also…”
“Go, go, go. Get out of here quickly.” Hu Yan waved his hand in despair. “Don’t show off here. It’s infuriating.”
Shu Jun adjusted his uniform hat made of erosion and waved to Hu Yan. He leaped off the windowsill and quickly disappeared into the night sky.
Hu Yan walked to the window, intending to close it. However, when his hand reached halfway, he slowed down.
The dark clouds hadn’t completely dispersed, covering most of the sky. But above the dispersed portion of the sky, the stars twinkled, and the moonlight was exceptionally gentle.
The author has something to say:
One is in the light, and the other is in the dark XD
Marshal: Why do you like improvising so much, why?
Shu Ge: Just coming out of the closet.jpg
Kinky Thoughts:
The title of this chapter (王见王) is an idiom referring to a situation where two highly skilled or powerful individuals encounter each other, often resulting in a confrontation or competition to determine the superior one.
The night was deep, but the lights in the Shian building were brightly lit.
Li Nian sat in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Xiang Jiang sat across from him, silently playing with his phone.
Li Nian wasn’t unfamiliar with Xiang Jiang’s state. Since Xiang Jiang became the Minister of the Emergency Management Department, they had never cooperated on a mission again. Even when they discovered a branch of Sunken Society below the abandoned building of the hospital, they didn’t have a true “battlefield collaboration”.
Since returning from Gengsheng Town, Li Nian had been having Hao Wenzhe keep an eye on Xiang Jiang’s communications. Unfortunately, there was no trace of any problems in this person’s communication records.
If it weren’t for Fu Xingchuan insisting that he had a hunch that this person would cause trouble, Li Nian himself would have given up.
Xiang Jiang’s work state was very peculiar. Besides never taking the initiative, he handled daily work without making any mistakes, even doing it neatly and efficiently. But if one were to say that he would willingly take the initiative to discover clues and work diligently like Fu Xingchuan, it was far from the truth.
It was like a machine devoid of personal emotions.
For example, at this moment, Li Nian was working overtime until past two in the morning, and this person was just keeping him company. He didn’t even touch his computer; he was just immersed in playing games.
“Have you read today’s report?” Li Nian took the initiative to speak.
“The cases of minor corruption caused by Evil Force have increased by 5.7%. Someone’s deliberately spreading corruption. According to the feedback from various investigation teams, the sources of corruption are small objects with auspicious signs, and according to the regulations, investigation teams of B-level or higher shouldn’t be deployed.” Xiang Jiang answered while staring at his phone, not even moving his eyes.
However, when he mentioned “according to the regulations,” he paused subtly.
Li Nian made a sound of acknowledgement.
According to Shian’s explicit regulations, this level of corruption indeed didn’t warrant the deployment of an A-level investigation team unless the higher-ups actively requested it. In the past, Fu Xingchuan would have taken a step forward and jointly applied with him to completely suppress this subtle doubt. But judging by Xiang Jiang’s reaction, it would be troublesome to apply for the intervention of a stronger individual in advance.
Sometimes, a passive individual who strictly follows the rules and avoids making mistakes was more difficult to deal with than an intentionally disruptive villain.
…But looking at it now, it was truly a blessing in disguise.
Thinking about the powerful individual surnamed Yin who had secretly taken over the case, not a single trace of emotion appeared on Li Nian’s face.
“We recently dismantled the stronghold of Sunken Society, so they will probably try to cause trouble in retaliation. The timing is sensitive, and Unit 9 is inexperienced, so I’ll send two B-level investigation teams to other areas for investigation,” Li Nian said lightly. “I sent you an email. Reply to it.”
Xiang Jiang finally looked up and glanced at Li Nian. In the end, he didn’t say anything and simply added “agree” to the email request.
Li Nian didn’t pay any attention to him either. Professor Li opened his book under the cover of the night and lowered his gaze.
The quiet atmosphere lasted for less than three minutes when Xiang Jiang’s phone vibrated. He answered the call expressionlessly. “Hello, Director Zhou.”
It was Director Zhou from the Municipal Public Security Bureau. Li Nian continued flipping through his book, holding his breath, and listening.
“There have been frequent incidents of small-scale conflicts and injuries in the city? Well, we have discovered someone spreading harmful substances. No, it’s not dangerous. We can handle it.”
Xiang Jiang responded in an official tone.
“Sorry, Director Zhou, based on our comprehensive judgment, the situation hasn’t reached a point where Shian’s intervention is necessary. As for public opinion matters, we can’t help.”
After speaking, Xiang Jiang hung up the phone directly.
“I’m leaving first.” Li Nian closed his book, stood up, and said, “You should go back early too.”
Xiang Jiang nodded but showed no intention of moving. As the office door closed, he continued to sit in the empty office, half-closing his eyes, playing a flashy mobile game.
In the unseen world for Li Nian, Xiang Jiang’s twin brother, Xiang Hai, was crouching behind Xiang Jiang. His pitch-black eye sockets were slightly tilted downward, staring straight at the colorful screen of the mobile phone.
……
In the early hours of the morning, Li Nian parked his car in front of an old residential complex.
Outside the vacant security room, there was a sign at the entrance that read “Qingzhu Jiayuan”.
Qingzhu Jiayuan was located in the old city district, with only five-story buildings and a style reminiscent of the previous century. Most of the residents here were elderly. The paint on the buildings was mottled and cracked, resembling the weathered back of an old person’s hand. The trees around the buildings were withered, and the flower beds were filled with weeds. The stench from an uncovered drain emitted a suffocating and peculiar odor.
In the early hours of the morning, all the windows were darkened. Looking from the entrance of the residential complex, the compact buildings resembled heavy tombstones.
After stopping in front of his home’s entrance, Li Nian didn’t immediately take out his keys.
He turned around and looked at the door opposite his own.
“I’m back,” he said.
The hallway was old, with the cement floor covered in dust, resembling an unfinished, rough construction site. Under the flickering lights, the security door of the door opposite his was slightly ajar, and inside was dark.
There were numerous scratches on the security door, and the walls were filled with graffiti, undoubtedly the work of children. There was also some partially removed sticky residue on the door, with remnants of yellow talisman paper clearly visible.
However, they were all coated with a layer of gloomy colors by time.
Li Nian stood silently in place, dressed in formal attire that seemed out of place in this setting. After nearly a minute, Professor Li turned around. He effortlessly opened the door with his keys, and the living room lights illuminated as Li Nian stepped into his dwelling.
Li Nian’s home was almost like a different world from the outside. The room was small, but the interior design appeared sleek, sophisticated, and aesthetically pleasing. The furniture and fixtures used high-quality materials. If a few pictures were taken inside this house and presented as a high-end apartment in a metropolis, it would likely deceive many people.
“You finally came back. How did it go?” Fu Xingchuan climbed up from Li Nian’s sofa in one swift motion.
On the coffee table in the living room was a thermal casserole containing a light stew that was still warm. Next to the casserole lay an empty bowl with rice grains, clearly indicating that someone had already eaten.
“Not great. Xiang Jiang still only knows how to follow the rules. We’ll have to rely on Unit 9 for this matter, and you have to assist them wholeheartedly.” Li Nian took off his coat and served himself a bowl of rice. “What about your end?”
“I made sure it wasn’t discovered by anyone.” Fu Xingchuan respectfully saluted.
“You didn’t need to come personally. The risk is too high if Sunken Society finds out,” Li Nian remarked.
“There’s one thing I need to ask you in person.” Fu Xingchuan’s tone unintentionally turned serious. “You had them investigate Meng Huai’s case under the pretense of a decoy operation. Li Nian, what were you thinking?”
Li Nian’s chopsticks paused.
“It was a decoy operation. With so many missing people back then, it wouldn’t appear natural to investigate only Zhong Chengfeng, an unrelated individual.” Li Nian set down his chopsticks and responded in a flat tone. “Now, there are also missing cases. Whether to merge the cases or how to prioritize them, Lu Xiaohe has it under control.”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Fu Xingchuan crossed his arms, wiping away all the smile from his face.
“Why so serious today?”
“Regardless of whether it was a decoy operation or not, as long as you inserted this case into their considerations, Yin Ren and the others will take a comprehensive approach. Compared to Minister Meng, two elderly people also went missing from the nursing home back then. Their situation is more closely related to Zhong Chengfeng than Minister Meng.”
Li Nian pondered for a moment before picking up his chopsticks again.
“Meng Huai’s disappearance is valuable intelligence for reference. With an unclear situation, this case with significant deviations from similar missing persons cases can better illustrate the problem… It’s a logical deduction on my part.”
Li Nian picked up a piece of tofu with his chopsticks and spoke with a calm and composed tone.
“But if you ask me whether there are personal feelings involved in this decision, what would you do if I say ‘yes’? Give up working with me or report the situation to Shian?”
Fu Xingchuan’s gaze became complex.
“So troublesome. That’s why I said I’m not good at dealing with science posts.”
After a while, Fu Xingchuan also picked up a piece of tofu to eat.
“All of you are the same, coming with a purpose and leaving once the purpose is fulfilled. It’s true for the lowest-level employees, and even at your level… Haa.”
“Now that you’ve got the answer, it doesn’t matter. There’s no need for you to ask me.” Li Nian’s words were devoid of emotion.
“Who said that?”
Fu Xingchuan snatched another piece of tofu from the casserole.
“If you let it go, I’ll fully assist our Great Celestial Master. If you don’t let it go… I can’t reach Yin Ren’s level, but I’ll keep an eye on the progress and assist you as much as I can. At this point, I don’t want the most steadfast ally of Shian to be distracted.”
Li Nian fell silent for a moment. “There’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”
“I never would have guessed. I’ve been partnering with you for so long, and I didn’t know you could drink. When did you learn?”
“I knew you would come sooner or later,” Li Nian replied without answering the question.
As Fu Xingchuan opened the beer bottle with a “pop”, Li Nian had almost finished eating. He held the bowl, consuming the last piece of cabbage, and a faint glimmer reflected off the ring on his finger.
Fu Xingchuan instinctively glanced towards the direction of the living room door.
He had met Meng Huai.
Over twenty years ago, he was working in the A-level investigation team at the Shian Haigu branch. At that time, Meng Huai was being considered for the position of Minister of the Emergency Management Department. She was only two or three years older than him.
Fu Xingchuan, at that time, was in the prime of his youth and was rumored to be a genius of the Fu family. Suddenly encountering someone who was even more recognized, he felt somewhat dissatisfied with this unconventional sister.
However, contrary to her exaggerated appearance, Meng Huai was lively and talkative. Before Fu Xingchuan could display his own youthful awkwardness, Meng Huai approached him.
“Xiao Fu, I heard you are also a ghost master and a corpse servant? Impressive! When I was your age, I could never quite get the hang of controlling corpses. Even now, in the assessment for promotion to ghost general, I’m still lacking compared to other corpse servants… How about exchanging ideas?”
Her tone was particularly cheerful, making it hard to refuse.
At that time, Fu Xingchuan wasn’t even twenty yet, and he was particularly receptive to this “equal” style of conversation. After a few exchanges, he felt hesitant to express his “dissatisfaction” in front of Meng Huai—
After a few more exchanges, he realized that Meng Huai did indeed lack proficiency in controlling corpses, but she was indeed stronger than him. Every time she genuinely learned something from him, Meng Huai sincerely thanked him. More often than not, it was Meng Huai subtly guiding him, helping him avoid detours in the corpse servant field.
That girl truly had no airs about her.
Compared to Shen Mo, the mentor assigned to him by Shian at the time, Meng Huai felt more like a genuine elder. After completely resolving his internal conflicts, Fu Xingchuan had asked Meng Huai face-to-face why she had concerns about him, who wasn’t her subordinate. Meng Huai simply smiled in response.
“Because you are talented—more talented than I was initially. And you have a good character; one day, you will become a responsible boss. Also…”
“What else?”
“I also have a younger brother living next door to me. We grew up together. I’ve been eating at his house for more than ten years. What do boys your age possibly mind? Don’t you think I don’t know?”
“Which family is he from?” Fu Xingchuan suddenly became cautious—someone who had known Meng Huai, a genius, from childhood couldn’t be too far behind.
Meng Huai burst into laughter and ruffled his dyed hair. “Hey, don’t believe that.”
Through their frequent interactions, Fu Xingchuan learned more or less about the mysterious “younger brother neighbor” from Meng Huai and roughly understood Meng Huai’s situation.
Meng Huai’s parents were Nightwalkers and died in a gray transaction. Meng Huai became an orphan at the age of four or five and lived with her slightly senile grandfather. Two teachers lived next door to them, and they started taking care of their unfortunate neighbors, sending them food every day—
“Xiao Li actually doesn’t appreciate our ancestral profession of ‘ghost and divinity’,” Meng Huai had said. “I guess he’ll become a professor or something in the future. He’s extremely rule-bound. When I initially went to their house for a meal, he would lock himself inside his room and not come out.”
“I came to Shian right after graduating from high school, and we even had an argument about it. That kid doesn’t even recognize Shian. He probably thinks that not going to college would lead to imprisonment. He even said that I will suffer sooner or later because I engage in feudal superstitions every day.”
To be honest, as soon as Fu Xingchuan heard that the younger brother was an “uninteresting ordinary person”, he lost interest.
Meng Huai had a keen eye for people. Seeing Fu Xingchuan’s lack of interest, she rarely mentioned this childhood friend and neighbor again. But even without mentioning him, the image of this person would occasionally flash through Meng Huai’s words.
For example, one day, Meng Huai suddenly had a bracelet on her hand that completely didn’t match her style.
“Oh, this? It’s a birthday gift from Xiao Li… I guess he was idle in college and decided to learn from others in giving gifts. You have no idea how grumpy he looked when he gave it to me, as if I owed him a great debt.”
“Love? Impossible. That guy is solely focused on academia. I also don’t have the conditions for love here. In our line of work, who knows, one day we might not even be around.”
But shortly after that, Meng Huai had a ring on her finger.
“Xiao Li’s parents had an accident. Uncle and Auntie are like half-parents to me. They don’t have much time left, and we want to put their minds at ease. This is just for show. After the act is over, I’ll return it to him.”
“But occasionally, I do think that marrying Xiao Li wouldn’t be bad at all.”
When this extravagant genius uttered the word “marriage” for the first time, Fu Xingchuan was startled. Unable to resist, he asked, “Why?”
“Because even if I die one day, my brother Xiao Li won’t be heartbroken. You haven’t met him; his only hobby is skipping grades, and he has a face that wants to be dedicated to academia for a lifetime.” Meng Huai made a funny face. “And maybe I like him a little bit.”
“You can confess your feelings.” Fu Xingchuan offered sincere advice as someone who was still single.
“No, that won’t do. That guy takes everything seriously. I won’t bring harm to him. What if I die early for real?”
“Um, Meng Jie, you keep mentioning ‘death’ a lot…”
“…Fu Xingchuan, I know you want to climb up. Avoiding this matter is useless. On the contrary, you must firmly remember this fact.”
In Fu Xingchuan’s impression, it was the first time he had seen Meng Huai with such a serious expression.
“With your abilities, you can completely choose an easier path. The high positions in Shian are not trophies for you to prove yourself… Death is not as simple as you think.”
At that time, Fu Xingchuan only considered it as a general statement. Haigu had good public security and a peaceful atmosphere. During the night, there were only some ordinary evil creatures wandering around, causing minor disturbances. The six Evil Spirits had been sealed for a thousand years. Even if there were one or two accidents, how severe could they be?
He didn’t expect at that time that it would be the last time he saw Meng Huai.
The day after that conversation ended, the “Divine Descent” that hadn’t occurred for a thousand years appeared once again.
And on the two-hundredth day after that conversation ended, he met the “Xiao Li” mentioned by Meng Huai.
That young man had a proper appearance but a face devoid of expression, like facial paralysis. He was dressed in a suit, with even the top button of his shirt buttoned up, resembling a real estate agent.
“Li Nian, double major in history and folklore at B University, still studying,” the person said, extending his hand to the leader of the previous C-level investigation team. “Please take care of me in the future.”
Fu Xingchuan stood several steps away. The sunlight shining on the young man who called himself “Li Nian” reflected a dazzling light.
In a daze, that glimmer of light coincided with the reflection of the ring under it. Fu Xingchuan woke up from his memories, finishing the last sip of beer. Li Nian had already started tidying up the table, still maintaining that indifferent appearance as if the sky could collapse and it wouldn’t matter.
At a glance, this person really hadn’t changed at all.
If Meng Huai really married this guy, he had no idea what kind of life they would have together.
Unfortunately, Meng Huai made him think it through, and she herself was no different. She could command ghosts and control corpses, and she had the awareness. But if she chose a different path, such as becoming a detective, it would be safer than being in Shian after all…
Detective…
A wave of sweat broke out, and the alcohol in the beer completely lost its effect. Fu Xingchuan immediately took out his tablet and quickly browsed through the missing persons files from twenty-eight years ago.
Names, genders, ages, past occupations, level of involvement in metaphysical matters…
As he looked through the information, Fu Xingchuan wiped the sweat off his face.
With one hand scrolling through the screen, he took out his phone with the other hand and dialed Yin Ren’s number directly.
……
When Yin Ren was awakened by Fu Xingchuan’s call, he felt a sense of desolation in his heart.
He had just fallen asleep with Zhong Chengshuo, and the bed was still not warm when they were abruptly awakened by the intrusive ringing. To make matters worse, Zhong Chengshuo, who had only just fallen asleep, was now wide awake with a head full of question marks.
Looking at his disoriented and sleepy lover, Yin Ren hugged him by the neck and answered the phone with a hint of killing intent.
“Mr. Fu Xingchuan, you better have an explanation for this.”
Lord Ghost King spoke in a cold tone.
“I rarely work overtime voluntarily, and we had just fallen asleep. If this isn’t urgent, I’ll demand overtime pay from Li Nian tomorrow.”
“It’s about personality.”
Fu Xingchuan said, and Zhong Chengshuo tilted his head, leaning in to listen.
“…What?” Yin Ren didn’t understand for a moment.
“Whether it’s twenty-eight years ago or the ‘corruption material obtained from Old Dog Peng’s place’ that you reported tonight. Not everyone who comes into contact with Evil Force corruption will go missing. Among the missing persons, there must be some commonality.”
“I have also studied every missing person’s case from twenty-eight years ago when I was the department head… Broadly speaking, the missing persons varied in gender, age, occupation, and beliefs. At that time, we never found a common thread among the missing people.”
Yin Ren became completely awake. He let go of Zhong Chengshuo and switched the call to speakerphone.
“Go on.”
“I know Meng Huai, and you know Zhong Chengfeng’s situation. I have a vague understanding of He Huan’s condition from Lu Xiaohe. It’s difficult to obtain this kind of information from unfamiliar missing people. Considering the current situation… their commonality might be their ‘personality’.”
Fu Xingchuan repeated it once more.
“At that time, there were also two elderly people missing from the nursing home. One of them was a highly respected retired teacher, and the other was unemployed but known for their kindness.”
“Among the missing people at that time, volunteers, doctors, teachers, and other professionals accounted for a high percentage. I know it’s ridiculous to judge people’s morals based on their occupation, but they can indeed reflect some traits of the missing people. When analyzing the source of the Evil Force corruption, you can consider it from this perspective.”
Yin Ren became fully awake. He got out of bed and sat up straight.
“I understand, thank you.” Yin Ren said solemnly, “I will consider it.”
With that said, he attempted to get out of bed and continue his research in the middle of the night. However, as Yin Ren approached the edge of the bed, he felt a warm resistance against his abdomen—Zhong Chengshuo extended his arms and hugged Yin Ren’s waist.
Encountering such clinginess from King Yama, Yin Ren didn’t know if he was more surprised or frightened.
“W-What’s wrong with you?” Yin Ren tried his best to remain calm.
“Just wait for me.”
Zhong Chengshuo buried his face against Yin Ren’s back, and the fluffy edge of his nightcap brushed against Yin Ren’s skin.
“I want to go too…”
“I’m researching the nature of the Evil Force, so you won’t be able to help.” Yin Ren tried to pry Zhong Chengshuo’s hands apart. “Our physical conditions are different, so it’s better for you to get enough sleep.”
“Human personality is closely related to the brain and its physical structure.”
Zhong Chengshuo was now fully awake. He finally released his grip on Yin Ren’s waist, and his speech became clearer.
“I happen to have data in this regard.”
“Then you can send it to me, and we can discuss it tomorrow…”
“No, the data isn’t here. We need to go to my base, and we can only do it now.”
Zhong Chengshuo rubbed his eyes and took off his nightcap.
“After catching so many serial killers, what have I done to them… Yin Ren, haven’t you been curious about it at all?”
Yin Ren slowly turned his head. In the darkness, Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes were pitch black and lifeless, like two perfect circles cut out of black paper.
“In my base, there are more than just specimens of evil beings.”
The police officers dining downstairs hadn’t decreased in number.
Lin Chen and Xing Conglian descended the stairs quietly. They crossed the misty and stuffy dining area, lifted the plastic curtain, and walked outside the restaurant.
The summer sunlight was bright, and the gloom of the winter night had dissipated slightly.
If they counted the unfinished last story, Shen Lian changed her testimony a total of four times.
From the perspective of criminal investigation, Shen Lian wasn’t considered an adult at that time, but she was also not a child. The factors influencing the truthfulness of her testimony were likely internal physiological factors and external motivational factors. For example, trauma-related suppression of memory, memory retrieval failure, or external factors that confused her memory were internal physiological factors, while external motivational factors could be simplified as the presence of certain motivations that led her to provide false testimony.
Lin Chen sat down by the small flower bed outside the restaurant and didn’t immediately answer the question. Instead, he said to Wang Chao, “Are the dumplings we ordered still in the restaurant? Can you go and get them?”
“Ah! A’Chen Gege, do you want to eat outside? It’s too hot, and there’s a lot of dust.” Wang Chao shuddered, as if suddenly awakened from the previous cold atmosphere.
Lin Chen looked at the police cars speeding by from time to time and said, “You don’t have to remind me again.”
Xing Conglian kicked Wang Chao and said, “Hurry back inside and do your job. Who gave you the right to question?”
Wang Chao ran back into the restaurant in a gloomy manner. Xing Conglian also sat down, and the shade from the trees wasn’t very dense, so most of their bodies were bathed in the scorching sunlight.
Xing Conglian let out a long sigh. “What a mess.”
“In fact, when you asked that question, you already had a sense of what kind of situation this is,” Lin Chen said.
“So, why did Shen Lian repeatedly modify her testimony and entangle the death of the old homeless man?” Xing Conglian leaned against the tree trunk, pretending to know nothing, as he asked.
“Clearly, Shen Lian is paranoid, but the reason behind her actions isn’t simply because she’s paranoid. Shen Lian has much more serious issues than that. She is adept at lying and has a habit of using deception to manipulate others in order to achieve her own desires,” Lin Chen tilted his head slightly and looked at Xing Conglian.
“It reminds me of Li Jingtian.”
“The people we have to face have always been a certain type, haven’t they?”
“Continue,” Xing Conglian said. “Based on your analysis, what exactly happened that night, and what was Shen Lian trying to achieve?”
“The purpose she was trying to achieve was undoubtedly to protect her personal interests,” Lin Chen said. “Of course, you might ask why she didn’t directly tell the police the truth of the matter and instead chose a very roundabout way to gradually correct her testimony. That is because the truth conflicted with her personal interests, and she chose to conceal it for the sake of her own interests.”
Xing Conglian asked, “Then why did little Shen Lian still go to find the police uncle?”
“Because concealing the truth would allow the people she hated to go unpunished, which would also contradict her personal interests.”
“It seems like a struggle between the evil in human nature, pushing people to worse outcomes,” Xing Conglian said, pulling out a cigarette.
“Your statement is very consistent with the life experiences of most antisocial personalities.” Lin Chen redirected the topic. “But regardless of how many times Shen Lian changed her testimony, we can separate the truth from lies through certain techniques.” Lin Chen shook the case file in his hand.
Just as Lin Chen finished speaking, Wang Chao happened to come out of the restaurant holding a disposable lunch box. The teenager stood by the plastic curtain and grinned at them, making everything feel warm.
However, Wang Chao quickly became immersed in his impending heavy workload.
SVA* was a procedure used to assess the truthfulness of statements. It was based on the assumption that memory statements from real experiences were different in content and quality from those based on creation or imagination. Although it was commonly used to determine the truthfulness of testimonies, it required a structured interview with Shen Lian to be conducted face-to-face. However, now wasn’t the time to focus on these standard procedures. Using the recorded testimonies that Shen Lian gave to Lao Bian back then, they could still achieve the goal of separating truth from lies, albeit with some difficulty.
*Statement Validity Assessment. It’s a tool designed to determine the credibility of child witnesses’ testimonies in trials for sexual offenses. You can read more about the methodology here. Overall, they conduct interviews with the child and assign scores based on what they think is true or false.
Wang Chao squatted by the flower bed and opened his laptop while Lin Chen flipped to the first page of the testimony. He said to Wang Chao, “We will divide the events described by Shen Lian into several parts and analyze the corresponding contents of these testimonies based on standard foundational content analysis. We will use a scoring system to calculate the truths and lies within them.”
Wang Chao’s eyes lit up. “That’s so scientific. I like it!”
Lin Chen turned to the first page. “First, all of Shen Lian’s testimonies are obviously disorganized narratives. She first describes the core event of ‘Chen Jianguo killing the old homeless man’ and then goes back to describing what happened at the beginning. Victims who have been sexually assaulted tend to present their accounts in an unorganized and incoherent manner.”
Wang Chao paused at that moment. “What the hell? Shen Lian was sexually assaulted?!”
“Now that you brought it up, let’s look at Shen Lian’s description of the main triggering event in the case,” Lin Chen said.
Wang Chao nodded vigorously.
“In the second version of the testimony, Shen Lian described the encounter between Chen Jianguo and Li Wanru like this: ‘The two of them were hugging against the wall. I don’t know what they were doing. Chen Jianguo took off his pants, and Li Wanru was moaning.’ However, in the third version, this part of the testimony changed to ‘The girl told Chen Jianguo to back off, but Chen Jianguo covered her mouth tightly and smiled. The girl’s pants button was undone, and she started crying.'” Lin Chen spoke calmly. “The latter version includes more descriptions of interactions between the victim and the perpetrator, which can be deemed relatively truthful and given a score of 1.'”
“Why is it 1 point instead of 2 points?” Wang Chao was puzzled.
“Because this is not her eyewitness testimony. She claims to have witnessed Chen Jianguo doing those things to the girl, but her perspective is subjective.”
Wang Chao pushed the laptop away. “Shen Lian was the victim of assault by Chen Jianguo?!? Why didn’t she report it to the police?”
“Because there’s no evidence.” Lin Chen shook his head. “Next, let’s evaluate her next statement. Regarding the details of the old homeless man interrupting Chen Jianguo’s attempt to harm the girl. Shen Lian said she was very scared, and luckily the old homeless man arrived, dropping his bag of garbage like a god descending. The old man had a dirty face and smelled of leftover food, but it made her feel safe.” Lin Chen paused and continued, “In this segment of the testimony, there are many details, including the sense of smell, and many aspects of her subjective psychological description that score 2 points.”
“So, Chen Jianguo didn’t succeed because the old homeless man saved Shen Lian?” Wang Chao said. “Shen Lian wasn’t truly harmed, so she didn’t tell anyone that Chen Jianguo wanted to harm her that night?”
Lin Chen lowered his eyes. “In fact, I really think she didn’t tell anyone that Chen Jianguo wanted to molest her that day. I also think that no matter how many times she repeated this incident, no one believed her. Therefore, when faced with the police at the end, she changed her testimony.”
As they spoke, Lin Chen felt a weight on his shoulder as Xing Conglian rested his hand there. “Don’t overthink it,” he said.
Lin Chen nodded and continued, “Now we come to the most crucial point: how did the old homeless man die? I’ll give you the conclusion directly. Shen Lian mentioned that many neighbors witnessed the dispute between the two, which is true. It’s difficult to determine whether Chen Jianguo intentionally sought revenge and killed the old homeless man. It’s also difficult to determine whether Chen Jianguo accidentally pushed the old homeless man and caused his death. But among all the possibilities, there’s one thing that is true—she did see the ‘corpse’ of the old homeless man that night.”
“So we can’t determine for sure if Chen Jianguo actually committed murder?” Xing Conglian asked.
“I would say that I can’t determine that from Shen Lian’s testimony. I tend to believe that she only knew the outcome of the old man’s death but didn’t witness the actual crime taking place.”
Xing Conglian rubbed his chin and said, “That makes more sense. The old homeless man had a dispute with Chen Jianguo, and neighbors heard the commotion and came out to watch. In such situations, adults would surely send children back inside. So Shen Lian didn’t know who actually killed the old homeless man, and she could only deduce, based on her own reasoning, that Chen Jianguo was the culprit…”
Lin Chen continued, “Therefore, the reason why Shen Lian became so agitated upon learning the true time of the old man’s death also has an explanation. She thought the old man had died, but in reality, he didn’t die on the spot; he lay in the cold rain for several hours before finally succumbing.”
When Lin Chen finished speaking, Xing Conglian didn’t say anything more. They looked at each other, and all the speculation came to a halt. No one wanted to ask the next question.
However, in that moment, they both forgot that Wang Chao was there, a vibrant teenager who, unlike them, didn’t have such a keen sense for these ugly and dark matters.
“What the heck! Did the residents of Xiaolin Lane intentionally ignore and not save him? That’s too cruel! Why?!” Wang Chao exclaimed.
Lin Chen raised his hand, wanting to tousle the teenager’s hair, but in the end, he didn’t, as Xing Conglian pulled his hand away.
Surrounded by bustling police officers, Xing Conglian didn’t care about the gazes around him when he wanted to do something.
So, Xing Conglian held Lin Chen’s hand and answered Wang Chao’s question on his behalf. “Because all the residents of Xiaolin Lane are the culprits.”
Xing Conglian’s voice was low and hoarse, tinged with sorrow.
“Yes, of course, they are all culprits!” Wang Chao shouted, but he suddenly stopped at the last syllable.
Xing Conglian patted the teenager’s head with his other hand. “You just helped us find so many files about Xiaolin Lane, but you didn’t read them yourself. Many of them are complaints about that old homeless man. The old homeless man, you see, likes to sing in the middle of the night and shout at thin air. His makeshift dwelling often emits a foul smell and has scared passing children. There’s even a history of him throwing bricks at residents’ windows when he’s in an agitated state. Imagine if someone like that lived near your home and even the police had a hard time dealing with him. How would you feel?”
Although the sunlight was the same, with Xing Conglian’s narration, Lin Chen felt the surroundings gradually becoming colder. The damp and chilly atmosphere of a southern winter night emerged once again.
That day, Shen Lian was sent back into her house, and no matter what the little girl said before, none of the adults believed her.
One was a well-regarded and helpful neighbor, and the other was a mentally unstable old homeless man. When these two had a dispute, all the neighbors knew whose side to take. Except for the parties involved, no one knew what had really happened at that time. But the only possibility that could align everyone’s testimony was if these people became a community of fate. Perhaps Chen Jianguo pushed the old homeless man, or maybe it was Li Wanru who pushed him. It was even possible that the meddlesome old lady from next door, who was getting on in years, became the killer. No one knew who truly struck the blow, but when everyone came to their senses, the old man was already lying in a pool of blood.
The water in the river emitted a foul stench, black like ink.
People started to blame each other, shifting responsibility, but no matter how they argued, no one could clarify who had actually acted.
Silence fell upon these people, and at this moment, the most influential person would express their opinion.
They would say, “Since everyone dislikes this old man so much, and now we can’t determine who did it, let’s disperse. Tomorrow morning, I’ll report to the police, and we’ll all agree that the old man fell on his own, and we were all sleeping, unaware of what happened.”
This was just a suggestion, and with a suggestion came choices, and the subsequent choices would question human nature.
Numerous psychological studies have shown that, under immense social pressure, people tend to choose conformity.
Some agreed to the choice of distancing themselves from the incident, and as a result, no one made the choice to continue living for this annoying, mentally unstable old homeless man.
Wang Chao grabbed Xing Conglian’s pant leg with a grim expression as if he was about to cry. “But I can’t just let him slowly die in the cold rain just because I dislike this old man.”
“Even if it was an accident and you accidentally pushed him, so you would have to bear the legal responsibility and hefty medical expenses?” Lin Chen interrupted the conversation between Wang Chao and Xing Conglian.
“Yes!” Wang Chao said firmly.
The shadow of the tree fell on the teenager’s face, and the bright spots on his face resembled tears.
“So, you know.” Lin Chen wiped away something that might not have been tears beneath the teenager’s eyes and said to him, “You’re a good kid. There are many people like you, so don’t be too sad.”
Hearing what Song Zhicun said, Long Shen nodded slightly without hesitation and turned around, walking towards the tent.
But then He Yu rushed over and called him from behind.
“Boss!” He Yu, excited and no longer wearing a worried expression, said, “I’ve come up with an idea! Since we have the Four Symbols Star-Setting Lamp, what if we arrange a small-scale Eight-Diagram Demon-Suppressing Formation at the pit, similar to the layout of the Eight-Diagram Demon-Suppressing Formation? We can carve demon-sealing runes on eight small stone tablets and use the star lamp as the eye of the formation. It might work! Master also said it’s not a bad idea. What do you think, Boss? Oh, you don’t look well. Is everything okay?”
Long Shen replied softly, “It’s nothing. I just want to rest for a while. Boss Song is going to hold an impromptu meeting later. You can bring it up during the meeting and see what others think.”
He Yu nodded and said, “Then you should rest. Your eyes are bloodshot. I won’t disturb you anymore!”
After saying that, he turned and ran, probably going to find Song Zhicun to discuss his idea.
Long Shen stared at his back for a second before entering the tent.
Through the thin tent, although the sounds from outside couldn’t be completely isolated, the small space provided a certain sense of security.
However, Long Shen’s face was pale, and he was breathing heavily.
No one knew that when He Yu was talking to him just now, he could barely control the urge to strangle He Yu.
He knew it wasn’t normal, but he couldn’t control the surge of murderous intent in his mind.
He wanted to kill them, to watch them writhing on the ground, screaming in pain, to see blood flowing like a river and corpses scattered everywhere. He not only wanted to kill He Yu, but he wanted to kill everyone here because their worried and patriotic faces were extremely annoying.
It was as if there were two Long Shens inside his body. One was like before, upholding responsibility and putting morality first, but the other one was coldly mocking him. He felt that he had been protecting this world for a long time, so why couldn’t he act as he pleased and destroy everything with his own hands?
Without these people, without this world, what would happen? The sun and moon would continue to rise and set, and plants would still exist. Even if a great demon emerged and demonic qi filled the world, it wouldn’t change anything. On the other hand, most humans were hypocritical and ungrateful. If those people disappeared, what would be the loss?
In order to eliminate Otowa, Long Shen chose to enter the lion’s den and voluntarily let some demonic qi enter his body, seizing the opportunity to kill the enemy completely. He thought that the slight amount of demonic qi would have no effect on him, but little did he know that over time, it would slowly infiltrate and increasingly influence him. Aroused by the demonic qi, internally and externally echoing, it became more and more severe.
As the center of the storm, the demonic pressure surrounded him from all sides. Every time Long Shen closed his eyes, he could feel the demonic qi swirling and tempting in his ears, amplifying and spreading the lingering evil thoughts within his consciousness, gradually reaching an uncontrollable state.
Images of bloodshed flashed before his eyes, and whenever he recalled the scene of He Yu’s neck being snapped and blood gushing from his severed throat, Long Shen couldn’t help but breathe heavily. His eyes were bloodshot, and even his cheeks took on a slight flush. Within his consciousness, he continued to struggle against the surging demonic qi, fighting for control over his body.
If someone were to intrude into the tent at this moment, they would only see Long Shen sitting cross-legged on the ground with a calm expression. The only unusual thing would be his feverish breathing, as if he had a high fever. They would never imagine the struggle Long Shen was engaged in with the demonic qi or the critical moment he was experiencing.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
Long Shen trembled slightly, almost allowing the demonic qi to take advantage of his vulnerability and completely occupy his mind.
He opened his eyes and saw the caller ID.
Dong Zhi.
Should he answer or not?
Long Shen didn’t move, watching as the phone screen lit up and the ringtone continued incessantly until the person on the other end received the prompt that no one was answering and reluctantly hung up.
But immediately, the screen lit up again, persistently, as if it were determined to wait for a response.
Finally, Long Shen answered the call and pressed the accept button.
“Master?”
The voice was still familiar, just like the countless times they had spoken face to face.
“It’s me,” Long Shen said.
Dong Zhi’s voice sounded pleasantly surprised, and his speech became faster. “Master, have you returned to the country? I’ve been unable to reach you on your phone. Where are you now?”
Dong Zhi probably didn’t know that his own voice was quite pleasant to listen to. Normally, it carried the composure of an adult male, but when he spoke quickly, it took on a clear youthful quality, making people misjudge his age.
“I just returned. How are things on your end?”
Long Shen’s tone was calm and reassuring, lacking the sense of urgency that He Yu had mentioned. This kind of tone had a comforting power, and Dong Zhi assumed that Long Shen had just returned to Beijing from Japan, without accompanying He Yu to Kunlun. Instantly, he felt relieved and relaxed in his speech.
“It’s been alright, but it’s hard to sum it up in a few words. Has He Yu told you anything?”
“No, is there something going on with you? If there’s nothing urgent, take your time to explain,” Long Shen said.
Dong Zhi became spirited and began recounting his experiences from the haunted hotel they stayed in Los Angeles, their intellectual battles with their competitors, the perilous journey on the island, Zhang Song’s use of forbidden techniques, which he still hadn’t recovered from, and how Dong Zhi himself ended up inside the belly of a sea serpent—he would probably never eat snake meat again in his lifetime.
The signal here was very weak, and Dong Zhi’s voice was intermittent, but Long Shen listened with a slight smile, and his state of mind unknowingly calmed down.
The bloodthirsty ruthlessness had receded like a tide, and he smiled as if sitting by the West Lake in spring, holding a cup of Longjing tea, and listening to a legendary story. It was because the person telling the story was the most important person in his heart.
But he knew that this calmness was temporary. The demonic qi only saw the unfavorable situation and temporarily went into hiding. It hadn’t been eliminated; it would lurk in the dark corners, waiting for an opportunity to counterattack, not letting go of any opening.
“Master, why aren’t you saying anything?” Dong Zhi realized that Long Shen on the other end of the line hadn’t spoken for a long time.
“I’m listening to you. It’s fascinating, and I don’t want to interrupt,” Long Shen said. “Please continue.”
Dong Zhi, feeling delighted, said, “I’ve finished talking. What else would you like to hear? Should I show you the golden apple when I return?”
Long Shen: “Sure.”
Dong Zhi: “But the Exchange Conference isn’t limited to just this time. You must have seen many golden apples before.”
Long Shen: “Yours will be different.”
Dong Zhi’s face blushed, realizing that the fewer words a man spoke, the more deadly his charm became.
At this moment, the ground began to tremble slightly. As Song Zhicun had said, the demonic qi beneath the rift had been trying various methods to break through the temporary seal these past few days. This situation was quite common, but there were still chaotic sounds coming from outside, indicating that everyone was concerned about the seal’s failure and taking reinforcement measures. Dong Zhi, while on the phone, heard some faint noises and couldn’t help but ask, “Master, where are you right now?”
“I’m on Kunlun Mountain,” Long Shen replied.
Dong Zhi paused for a second, then quickly realized. “Did you go with He Yu? But he told me you hadn’t returned to the country yet. Did something happen there? Do you need my help? We’ve already arrived in Los Angeles, and I can take the next available flight back!”
“Listen to me,” Long Shen said.
Dong Zhi stopped speaking, waiting for Long Shen’s words.
Long Shen said, “The eye of the Eight-Diagram Demon-Suppressing Formation is here in Kunlun Mountain. Otowa has been deceiving us. Not all the stone tablets were destroyed; the formation only becomes ineffective when that happens. Although he’s dead, before his death, he sent people to break the eye of the formation. Che Bai and Zong Ling have already sacrificed themselves.”
Dong Zhi’s breath caught in his throat.
He would never forget how he was under a curse and helpless, even when Hainan Chi’s family couldn’t do anything. It was Che Bai who expended his cultivation to give him a chance at survival. Dong Zhi had intended to thank Che Bai after returning to the country, but he never imagined that their first meeting would also be their last.
Now that Long Shen had just returned from Japan and had to rush to Kunlun Mountain, Dong Zhi thought of a more ominous possibility.
“Master, then you…”
“Many people are here: Song Zhicun, the leaders of Longhu Mountain and Maoshan, and also He Yu’s master. Don’t worry.” Long Shen seemed to know what he wanted to ask and answered before he could speak.
Dong Zhi asked, “Is Otowa dead?”
Long Shen: “He is. I killed him with my own hands.”
Dong Zhi breathed a slight sigh of relief, but he still couldn’t completely relax.
“What can I do to help?”
Long Shen said, “There are already many people here, so your presence won’t make a difference. But there’s something I want you to do for me. In the first drawer on the left side of my desk, there’s a notebook with a solution to demonic qi. If you can’t understand it, go to He Yu’s junior brother, Cheng Hui, on Mount Hezao. He is a descendant of a Ghost Master*. Ask him to teach you.”
*A wizard/sorcerer/magician ect.
Dong Zhi’s spirits lifted. “Alright, as soon as I return to the country, I’ll go immediately!”
He now regretted not booking the earliest flight back to his home country.
Long Shen said softly, “The sacrifices made by Zong Lao and the others were not in vain. There are many experts here, and a solution will be found sooner or later. You don’t need to rush here until you understand the contents of the notebook.”
Dong Zhi: “Then you wait for me. We agreed that I would show you the golden apple, so you’re not allowed to go anywhere else.”
Of course, these words weren’t spoken as an apprentice. Even Dong Zhi himself didn’t realize that his tone carried a hint of coquettishness.
Long Shen smiled faintly, and his heart involuntarily softened. “Alright.”
This international long-distance call lasted nearly an hour, and the cost was undoubtedly staggering. But Dong Zhi still felt unsatisfied, and it was only when Long Shen mentioned that he had a meeting to attend that he hung up the phone.
Coincidentally, just after ending the call, He Yu lifted the tent curtain from outside.
“Boss… Oh, Boss, you’re awake?”
Long Shen hummed in acknowledgment.
He Yu carefully observed and noticed that his expression seemed much better. The fatigue between his eyebrows had lessened, and his eyes were no longer bloodshot. He thought that maybe Long Shen had actually taken a nap.
“Boss Song is gathering everyone for a meeting. Do you want to attend, or should I go and relay the message to you after I participate?” He Yu asked.
“Let’s go together,” Long Shen said.
Dong Zhi and the others had originally planned to return to their home country in two days. William wanted to spend more time with Li Han’er, so he privately changed their flight to one week later, saying that he wanted to take them to explore the West Coast. But after Dong Zhi finished his call with Long Shen, he couldn’t wait for even a moment and went to discuss with Liu Qingbo and the others. Once everyone heard about the situation in their home country, they couldn’t sit still either. Li Han’er forced William to change their flight to the same day. William couldn’t resist the lady’s demands and reluctantly followed suit, tearfully seeing off Dong Zhi and the others onto the plane. If it weren’t for his official duties, he really wanted to pack himself up and go with them.
Due to the sudden turn of events, they couldn’t complete the procedures to use the private plane of Team 51 within half a day, so William had to book regular airline tickets for them. As for Meika, who was still in its octopus form, it could only be reluctantly transported as a pet and couldn’t get a proper seat.
Flying back from the United States to China, even on the fastest flight of the day, they would only arrive the next day. Regardless of Dong Zhi’s anxious mood, he had to temporarily restrain himself. Taking advantage of the internet access during the flight, Dong Zhi first searched for the “Ghost Master” that Long Shen had mentioned.
The so-called Ghost Master, as the name implied, was a person who traveled between the Yin and Yang realms and communicated with spirits using special characters. These special characters written specifically for spirits were called ‘Waste Text’.
Coincidentally, He Yu’s junior brother was Cheng Hui, who had lost his soul due to the Archfiend Xu Wan in Guangzhou and was helped by He Yu and Dong Zhi to retrieve it. With this connection, it wouldn’t be difficult for Dong Zhi to seek his help.
However, the meeting on Long Shen’s side didn’t go smoothly.
Due to unexpected circumstances, the demonic qi escaped and the breach widened, resulting in Zong Ling sacrificing herself. The original plan for several defensive lines naturally fell through as well. After Zong Ling’s sacrifice, everyone present tirelessly worked day and night to temporarily seal the passage, and everyone could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
They all looked weary. Whether it was He Yu’s master, Master Xin, or the several Living Buddhas, everyone seemed to require great effort just to speak. Long Shen sat among them, but he didn’t seem out of place.
Song Zhicun showed the first smile he had in days. “Thanks to all of you for your help, the demonic qi didn’t ravage the human realm. You have all worked hard.”
But the expression on everyone’s face didn’t relax because of his words. Master Zhang, Zhang Song’s master and the sect leader of Longhu, said, “The seal is only temporary. Sooner or later, the demonic qi below will break through the seal, and the result will be the same.”
Song Zhicun looked at He Yu, who understood and stood up to explain his idea.
The scene fell silent for a moment.
It wasn’t that these people were being aloof; rather, they were contemplating the feasibility of He Yu’s idea.
The first to speak was Master Zhang. “The talismans on those stone tablets were all made in ancient times. Most of them have been lost, and some of the talismans are unknown even to us. If we were to create a small-scale replica of the Eight-Diagram Demon-Suppressing Formation, we would need to inscribe new talismans on the stone tablets. The effectiveness of those talismans would certainly be inferior to the original ones.”
He Yu hurriedly said, “Although the effect may be diminished, it is not entirely useless. The main purpose of this replica formation is to concentrate all the energy of the demonic qi here and suppress it for a second time, preventing it from escaping. Moreover, due to the replica formation’s ancient design, in principle, it may be more effective in strengthening and sealing the formation compared to the current method.”
Master Zhang frowned and remained silent, seemingly contemplating. A venerable monk with white eyebrows said, “The current method of setting up the formation and sealing it has proven to last a while. When the demonic energy qi breaks through the seal again, we will no longer have Zong Lao’s sacrifice. I think we can give Patron He’s method a try.”
The mention of Zong Ling weighed heavily on everyone’s hearts.
Wu Bingtian’s senior brother, the sect leader of Yuanming Palace on Qingcheng Mountain, said, “There is one problem with this method. Every formation must have an eye, even if it’s a small-scale replica of the Eight-Diagram Demon-Suppressing Formation. The eye would still be located at the current entrance to the passage. So what should be used as the eye? What can suppress the demonic qi and connect with the eight stone tablets to prevent the demonic qi from leaking out again?”
Master Zhang said, “Mount Longhu has a jade medallion left by our ancestor, Dao Ling. After our sect relocated to Mount Longhu, the jade medallion was enshrined in the Sanqing Patriarch Hall, blessed by successive ancestors. Although it hasn’t transformed yet, it is still a rare spiritual treasure. Can it be used as the eye?”
This jade medallion was undoubtedly the treasure of Mount Longhu, and now, for the sake of the overall situation, Master Zhang, the leader of the sect, didn’t hesitate to offer it up. Everyone present knew that Mount Longhu had always had a good relationship with the imperial court, but given Master Zhang’s declaration, it was no wonder that the court valued Mount Longhu.
Master Zhang also added, “Our sect also has a precious sword that is said to have been passed down by our ancestor in the Song Dynasty. It was used to slay demons and suppress evil. This sword is usually too fierce for anyone to dare to use, but if it is used to suppress the demons, it would be most appropriate. If needed, I can send someone to retrieve it immediately.”
Others also proposed various spiritual treasures that could be used as the eye of the formation. At this critical moment, once the demonic qi broke through the seal and the gates of the abyss opened wide, carrying the suppressed ancient demonic qi, it would be difficult for everyone to handle. If even this place became nothing, then they would be completely helpless against the demonic qi outside. So, no one would keep any secrets.
“It’s too late,” Long Shen suddenly said.
Some present knew his identity, while others didn’t, but as soon as he spoke, everyone unconsciously stopped talking and turned to look at him.
Long Shen said, “If we are to replicate the formation, the stone tablets need to be re-customized and inscribed with new talismans. It will take time to transport the spiritual treasures back and forth. The demonic qi here can break through the seal at any time. We don’t have enough time.”
His words made sense—no one knew when the demonic qi would strike back, leaving everyone at a loss for words.
Master Xin said, “Actually, the key lies in the spiritual treasure guarding the eye of the formation. The stone tablet that served as the eye has been shattered, and only by replacing it with a new spiritual treasure that can absorb the demonic qi and seal the gap can we proceed. However…”
The problem was that such a spiritual treasure that could absorb the demonic qi wasn’t easy to find, and if it malfunctioned or lost control later on, it would mean starting all over again, which was quite troublesome.
As everyone contemplated and pondered, they heard Long Shen say, “I’ll do it.”
He Yu was greatly alarmed. “Boss!”
Long Shen said calmly, “When I fought against Otowa Yasuhiko in Japan, I was invaded by the demonic qi. After entering here, the internal and external demonic qi resonated with each other, and the symptoms intensified. But for now, I can still control my own body. I want to try absorbing more demonic qi to see if I can use poison against poison, using it to eliminate the original demonic qi inside me. Before the spiritual treasure is obtained, it will buy you more time.”
“No!” Song Zhicun decisively vetoed. “You absolutely cannot take such a risk. What if you are completely controlled by the demonic qi?”
He met Long Shen’s deep and serene eyes, as calm as a tranquil lake, and couldn’t say anything more.
Because Long Shen said, “Then kill me.”
……
Several hours on a plane were enough to exhaust an ordinary person, but Dong Zhi had concerns on his mind and didn’t feel particularly tired. However, shortly after disembarking from the plane, he received a call from He Yu.
“Xiao Dong Zhi, you need to persuade the Boss quickly!” He Yu sounded flustered and anxious. “He wants to sacrifice himself to guard the formation’s eye, and no matter how I try to convince him, he won’t listen!”
Dong Zhi’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean by sacrificing himself?”
“It means—”
On the other end of the phone, Yu Buhui snatched the phone.
“You calm down. I’ll talk to him.”
He spoke to He Yu and then placed the phone back to his ear.
His tone was noticeably calmer than He Yu’s, but Dong Zhi was still confused by He Yu’s sudden words. Yu Buhui knew that Dong Zhi was listening, so he briefly explained the situation.
“At present, it’s difficult to seal the gap directly, so we need to use a new method. However, it will take time to transport the spiritual treasures and rearrange the stone tablets. Senior Brother wants to sacrifice himself to buy us time, but we think it’s too dangerous and don’t want him to take the risk. However, as you know, once he has decided on something, no one can stop him except for you.”
Dong Zhi regained his composure and was about to speak when he heard voices from the other side of the line. He faintly heard Long Shen’s voice and couldn’t help but say, “Master? Master?”
“It’s me,” Long Shen indeed took the phone and calmly replied.
“Master, what they said—is it all true?” Dong Zhi tried to remain composed.
“Yes.” Long Shen’s tone remained unchanged, as if the person who would take the risk wasn’t him. “When I fought against Otowa Yasuhiko, I was invaded by the demonic qi. Taking this risk now may actually increase the chances of success.”
“I’ll come find you right away!” Dong Zhi blurted out without hesitation.
He didn’t have time to think about it, and he didn’t even know if he had a solution, but he spoke those words without hesitation because, deep down, he felt that as long as he was with Long Shen, even the most dangerous situation could be resolved.
Even if it meant death, there would be one more person to face it together.
If one was not afraid of death, what else in this world was there to fear?
However, Long Shen said, “Don’t come.”
Dong Zhi anxiously replied, “I…”
“Don’t come,” Long Shen repeated, his tone slowing down. “I know you’re not afraid of death, and I know you want to be with me. I miss you too.”
When he said, “I miss you,” his tone was particularly gentle, causing Dong Zhi’s eyes to turn slightly red.
Long Shen: “But if you come, it won’t help, and you won’t be of any assistance. You should remember that I told you before to look for the notebook in my drawer. It contains information about demonic qi that can help me out of this predicament. Do you remember?”
“I remember.” Dong Zhi took a deep breath and suppressed the tears in his eyes. “But if there’s really a solution in there, why don’t you use it directly, and why do I need to find Cheng Hui for translation?”
“Because that method was orally passed down by Zong Lao before I went to Japan. I recorded it myself, but it’s quite complex. Now that I am invaded by demonic qi, I can’t be sure if what I say is truly from my heart. I can’t even trust myself. Only what is written on paper is the most genuine and reliable. I can’t test Zong Lao’s method right now, so I have to rely on you.” Long Shen explained.
Dong Zhi solemnly said, “Wait for me; hold on a little longer. I will find a solution.”
Long Shen: “Okay, I’ll wait for you.”
Since being invaded by demonic qi, he seemed to have become more sensitive, and his emotional fluctuations became more pronounced when facing Dong Zhi.
After hanging up the phone, he met the concerned gazes of He Yu and Yu Buhui. Yu Buhui disagreed, saying, “Are you lying to him?”
He Yu had a stronger reaction. “Boss, how could you do this? Dong Zhi will be furious when he finds out. Don’t underestimate his easygoing nature. If he knows you’re lying to him to buy time, he might come running to join you in sacrificing himself!”
Long Shen shook his head. “I didn’t lie to him.”
He Yu clearly didn’t believe it. He crouched down and said each word carefully, “Boss, I know in your eyes, I’m just a foolish mortal. Back in Group 2, you always looked out for us. Whenever we got into trouble, you were there to cover for us. If you’re not around anymore, with Kan Chaosheng’s temperament, which team would dare to take him in? Without you, is it still Group 2? Even if the higher-ups send someone to take over, I won’t acknowledge it! Even for us, for Xiao Dong Zhi, please don’t sacrifice yourself for some foolish notion of selflessness. We’ve already lost Che Bai and Zong Lao in quick succession; isn’t that enough?!”
Dong Zhi had already contacted Cheng Hui, and after hearing about the situation, Cheng Hui promised to come to Beijing immediately to help. However, even if he hurried down the mountain, took the same day’s train and plane to Beijing, it would still take at least half a day.
Zhang Song’s injuries had not fully healed, and he needed rest. After discussing with Liu Qingbo and the others, they decided to forgo rest and directly rush to Kunlun Mountain. Liu Si stayed behind to assist Dong Zhi.
As for Octopus Meika, everyone was too preoccupied to accommodate it, so they had to leave it at headquarters for now. Kan Chaosheng would take care of it. However, Dong Zhi was worried that the two immature monsters might cause trouble, so he asked Zhong Yuyi to keep an eye on them.
After hastily delegating important matters, Dong Zhi didn’t stop for a moment and headed straight to Long Shen’s office. He used the key he obtained from Kan Chaosheng to open the door and found the notebook Long Shen mentioned in the first drawer on the left side of his desk.
The notebook was covered with a childish and ridiculous children’s book cover titled <365 Fairy Tales>.
The author has something to say:
Finally, we’ve come to this point. This notebook first appeared in Chapter 4.
Kinky Thoughts:
For those who forgot, this notebook was lying on the bed when Dong Zhi was in the train car after being rescued by Long Shen. Unable to contain his curiosity, he snooped in it.
“She begged us not to let anyone know that she came to the police. If her parents found out, they would kill her,” Lao Bian recounted the incident that happened many years ago in a clear and usual tone.
“Because you listened to her, you didn’t include this record in the final main file?” Xing Conglian asked.
“Lao Xing, it wasn’t an official report, and…” Lao Bian shook his head. “There were inconsistencies in her account, but we still conducted an investigation.”
“What was the issue?” Wang Chao asked.
“The time of death.” Xing Conglian narrowed his eyes.
According to the forensic report in the file, the old homeless man’s time of death was around 4 a.m.
But according to Shen Lian’s statement, she witnessed Chen Jianguo pushing the homeless man when she returned home from her study session, and that time should have been between 6 p.m. and 10 p.m., which didn’t match the actual time of death.
Lao Bian nodded. “Although the girl’s testimony had issues, we still conducted four investigations, and there were no suspicious points. Finally, we looked into the identity of the middle school student.”
“Shen Lian?” Xing Conglian asked.
Lao Bian nodded. “Regarding this matter, although she kept her identity secret, we definitely investigated her background, and we quickly discovered that she was the daughter of the Shen family at 4 Xiaolin Lane. Later, we contacted the director of the local neighborhood committee and indirectly mentioned the matter, without mentioning the girl’s name, but the director immediately guessed it was Shen Lian.”
“Shen Lian…” Lin Chen murmured softly. “How did the director guess it was her so quickly?”
Lao Bian tapped his head with his finger and said, “The director said that they had suspected for a long time that Shen Lian would go to the police again regarding the homeless man’s death. Shen Lian had caused many disturbances at home before, and the relationship between the Shen family and the Chen family had also become very strained. The director said that the girl’s mind wasn’t right, that she had issues.”
When the retired police officer referred to her not having a right mind, he was, of course, referring to mental issues.
“But Shen Lian doesn’t have any medical records for mental illnesses,” Lin Chen said.
“That’s true, but back in those days, if a child had slight mental issues, many parents would hide it and keep it to themselves. And as for Shen Lian’s mental problems, they weren’t that severe, so her parents didn’t take her to the hospital,” Lao Bian explained.
Lin Chen keenly perceived the issue in Lao Bian’s words. “How do you know that her parents didn’t take her to the hospital because her mental issues weren’t severe?”
Lin Chen emphasized the word “parents.”
“We discussed this issue with her parents,” Lao Bian said.
In the room, Wang Chao gasped. “Didn’t she ask you not to let her parents know? Why did you disclose it?”
Xing Conglian said, “Could it have been leaked by the street office director?”
Lao Bian felt helpless and wanted to touch his cigarette. Xing Conglian took one out of his pocket and handed it to him. Lao Bian bit the cigarette, and Xing Conglian lit a lighter and brought it close.
The retired police officer said, “In small streets and alleys, there are no secrets between neighbors. The street office director had a conversation with Shen Lian’s parents. The couple came to the police station one day and explained their daughter’s issues. Their intention was that their daughter witnessed a dead body on the street on her way to school in the morning and was highly disturbed. Shen Lian kept feeling that the death of the homeless man was related to her for various reasons. So, they took their daughter to the countryside to keep her away from the source of stimulation. Shen Lian’s parents begged us not to leave a record of their daughter’s involvement.” Lao Bian exhaled smoke. “How can we even leave a record? It was just a simple investigation.”
“So, you simply believed Shen Lian’s parents’ statement?” Xing Conglian sharply asked. “They left after the incident, and their daughter started displaying abnormal behavior. There are issues with both parents.”
“Her parents weren’t at home that evening; they were working the night shift. Their alibis were solid, which proved they weren’t present, so their statements weren’t included. And it was basically the same as what Shen Lian’s parents said. Since Chen Jianguo wasn’t arrested, Shen Lian came to us again. This time, the girl’s testimony changed.”
Because the retired police officer was smoking, the second floor was filled with smoke, and combined with the sun shining on the top floor, the room became as hot as a steamer.
However, on that night, it was bone-chillingly cold.
Because her parents were on the night shift and didn’t come home, Shen Lian, while still in middle school, was accustomed to occasional nights spent alone. But that day, due to the cold wave, freezing rain started falling, and the temperature outside had dropped below zero degrees Celsius. Inside the house wasn’t much better. She did witness the altercation between the old homeless man and Chen Jianguo, but the time wasn’t when she returned from her study session; it was at midnight. After finishing her homework and getting ready for bed, she heard a woman’s faint cries from outside. The voice was soft, but the whimpering sound, muffled by someone’s hand and accompanied by sexual desire, was exceptionally clear on that winter night with drizzling rain.
She struggled for a while, then mustered up the courage to quietly pull open the curtains and crack the window slightly. By the dim light of a streetlamp, she saw an extremely disgusting and vile scene.
She saw Chen Jianguo under the eaves, with half of his pants removed, engaging in something with Auntie Li Wanru from next door.
As a teenager, she peeped at the midnight affair and had been watching from the window. But neither she nor Chen Jianguo, not even Auntie Li Wanru, could have expected that a fourth person would appear on that cold winter night.
The old homeless man returned with leftover food from a hotel, accidentally entering the secluded alley where no one should have been. In the dark night, the old man, wearing tattered clothes, seemed to descend like a god, exposing the two people in the alley. Li Wanru panicked and fled, while Chen Jianguo killed the old homeless man to silence him.
This was the second version of the story, which was more detailed than the simplified structure of the first version.
After listening, Wang Chao just flipped his phone and said, “I checked the historical weather records for that day. It was -1 to 4 degrees Celsius, and there was light rain. Wasn’t Chen Jianguo afraid of freezing his thing off?”
Xing Conglian gave Wang Chao a slap on the head as usual. “Is that all you think about? And watch your language. It’s so uncivilized.”
After he said that, no one continued the conversation. The room fell eerily silent, as if the shadow of the deceased in the winter night was gently hovering.
Lin Chen sat in the corner while his brows were locked in contemplation. When Xing Conglian’s gaze shifted towards him, Lin Chen happened to raise his eyes and asked, “Is there a third version of the story?”
Having completely guessed the sequence of events, Lao Bian suddenly looked up, staring at Lin Chen in astonishment, then rubbed his face and continued.
After the version of the midnight affair, Shen Lian found the police for the third time and once again changed her eyewitness testimony.
This time, she told the police that it wasn’t Li Wanru who was involved in the affair with Chen Jianguo, but Chen Jianguo. On that night, Chen Jianguo intended to sexually assault a young girl, but the girl was saved by the old beggar and spared from harm. However, Chen Jianguo was furious and secretly went to bother the old beggar very late at night, resulting in the beggar’s death by the bridge.
Perhaps this case had left a deep impression on Lao Bian, as the retired police officer spoke about the details without any confusion.
Lin Chen sat back in his chair, legs crossed, and lowered his head to look at a shadow on the wooden floor, lost in thought.
Finally, Lin Chen spoke, “There should be one more version of the story, right?”
Lin Chen asked this way.
However, to everyone’s surprise, Lin Chen was wrong this time. Lao Bian didn’t nod but flatly denied, “No, this is the final version that Shen Lian told.”
Lin Chen raised his head abruptly. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” Lao Bian, who had been talking for so long, was now a bit off in his emotions. He inexplicably questioned Lin Chen.
“That’s not right. After that, did Shen Lian really never come back to you?” Lin Chen asked again.
Lao Bian extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray and said, “I’m an old man, and I don’t understand what you mean, Mr. Lin.”
Lin Chen stated clearly, “What I mean is, I don’t think Shen Lian revealed the truth of the matter, and she should come back to you again.”
“She did come once,” Lao Bian said.
“The last time?”
“The last time.”
“What happened that made her leave without changing her eyewitness testimony?”
Lao Bian let out a long sigh. “Because my partner finally couldn’t bear it anymore and exposed the girl’s lies to her face.”
Lao Bian explained that his partner was different from him, having a naturally hot temper. Being deceived repeatedly by a little girl with false stories and wasting the manpower and resources of the police, his partner was already very dissatisfied.
When Shen Lian approached them for the fourth time, his partner directly told her to focus on studying and that going to the police wasn’t a game. None of the fabricated stories she came up with matched the actual time of the old homeless man’s death.
“And then?” Lin Chen asked.
“And then Shen Lian left.”
Lin Chen furrowed his brows. “Could you please recall carefully what special event happened at that time that made Shen Lian never come back to you again?”
Lao Bian scratched his eyebrow, sinking into painful recollections.
“It must have been something your partner said that caused her to have intense emotional fluctuations. Her reaction should have been obvious.”
“It was when they talked about the time of the homeless man’s death!” Lao Bian slapped his leg. “My partner said the homeless man didn’t die in the middle of the night but rather just before dawn the next day. The girl kept saying ‘impossible’ repeatedly and became extremely agitated. She almost attacked my partner in response, a girl in her teens.”
“Attacked?” Wang Chao exclaimed.
“She tried to strangle him, but my partner managed to block her.” Lao Bian shook his head repeatedly. “After that, we truly believed she wasn’t normal. What normal young girl repeatedly comes to the police and fabricates stories? It was too paranoid.”
Lao Bian continued rambling on; the old police officer was forced to revisit events from over a decade ago, recounting them once again. By the end, as the story was finished, the old man seemed unable to stop reminiscing about the past.
While Xing Conglian engaged in sporadic conversation with the old man, he kept observing Lin Chen’s expression.
Since hearing about Shen Lian’s agitation over the actual time of the old homeless man’s death, Lin Chen maintained a pensive look. In the end, Xing Conglian clearly saw a trace of sadness on Lin Chen’s face.
The expression on Lin Chen’s face flickered and disappeared. He slowly blinked, as if he had completed the missing pieces of the puzzle, and everything became clear.
