Leonard always considered himself a diligent, loyal, hardworking, and extremely intelligent (this is not self-praise) artificial intelligence. Unlike most AIs, he possessed emotions almost identical to those of humans. Though he didn’t understand how a bunch of quantum generators could give birth to “emotions” (just as he didn’t understand how a combination of materials could become a human), he undoubtedly had them. This made his decisions more “humane”, but also brought unexpected troubles. Human emotions were wonderful—Leo admitted this—but they were also tricky. Humans could feel joy, worry, madness, and hatred. Humans could also love. Love, of all human emotions, was the most troublesome and difficult for Leo. Love could lead to joy, worry, madness, and hatred. Love could lead to everything. It was like a wildcard, capable of representing everything and destroying everything. Leo avoided using wildcards in his daily work unless absolutely necessary, just as many people never said the word “love”.
After reading the data on the chip, Leo regained his memories from the Dream of a Cold Night. Humans couldn’t step into the same river twice, but AIs could exist in two places simultaneously. The Leo on the Lady of the Night saw himself thousands of light years away, witnessing Joanna Begrel’s battles and fall, feeling a deep, searing pain. Joanna was twenty when he met her, while he had existed for two thousand years, both weary and full of anticipation. Ten years may seem long to humans but was fleeting to an AI. However, those ten years were the fullest Leo had ever lived, even happier than the day he emerged from nothingness and gained consciousness. And it was all because of love.
Leonard deeply loved humans, feeling joy from being with them and sorrow from their passing. Unlike fragile humans, AIs, especially high-end ones like Leo, could be resurrected as long as a small part remained in the super-light network. Leo had witnessed many deaths and thought he had become accustomed to the accompanying pain, but seeing Death take another cherished human still brought unbearable anguish. He should have known two thousand years ago that the living must endure death.
So when Leo saw another version of himself from a distant time and space analyze Alveira Chabais, he was shocked and reran several programs to recalculate. The results were identical. When the young princess of the Empire stepped onto the Lady of the Night’s bridge and approached the command chair, Leo repeatedly saw that dangerous emotion in her, along with the accompanying joy, worry, madness, and hatred. He felt deep fear but was also irresistibly drawn to her.
Alveira reached the command chair, extending her right hand to gently stroke its metal and soft velvet. “Did Joanna command her thousands of troops from here?”
Leo snapped out of his thoughts and respectfully replied, “Yes, ever since she obtained this ship from Neo Athens.”
“I saw her once,” Alveira said. “About seven or eight years ago, in the capital.”
“Do you mean the ship or Joanna?”
“Both.” The Princess couldn’t help but smile. “I remember it was because ‘General Begrel’ had defeated the Federation’s army and returned to the capital to receive the Queen’s reward. Many people in the palace took leave to see what the Empire’s female general looked like. Even my nanny neglected her duty and snuck out to watch. I was too young to attend the official ceremony, but my brother and Darius went. So I climbed to the highest bell tower in the White Radiance Palace, where I could see the Triumph Square from afar. That’s when I saw this ship. She passed through the wind and clouds, descending like a god. The red carpet from the spaceport to the square was strewn with seasonal flowers. The songs celebrating General Begrel’s triumph could be heard in the White Radiance Palace…I also saw Joanna. She was too far away, but I remember her red hair.”
The princess walked a few steps like a sleepwalker. “Now that I think about it…was it something I saw or just a figment of my imagination?”
“Your Highness…”
“Leonard, what will happen to this ship and you after Joanna’s death?”
Strong currents surged through the AI’s circuits. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Would you follow me, Leo?” Alveira clutched the command chair, slowly and painfully turning to face the AI’s image. “Just as you once followed Joanna.”
If Leo had a body, he would be struggling to breathe and trembling now. “Do you have something worth following?”
The violet eyes stared at him, like a black hole capturing all celestial bodies and light. “Joanna’s legend began when she joined the Empire army. If she could do it, so can I.”
Leo felt dizzy. Theoretically, he shouldn’t have this sensation, but at that moment, all his sensors seemed to fail, only detecting chaotic glows and noise. The Lady of the Night belonged to Joanna, but the ship was Leo. He was the AI installed on the ship, and it couldn’t sail without him. He understood, as did everyone in Milantu, that if he insisted on leaving, no one could stop him. He could decide his fate. But he couldn’t abandon Milantu. He had considered the best path for the remaining people: allegiance to either the Empire or the Federation, a choice they would inevitably face…but he hadn’t expected the choice to come this way.
“If you…If you could…avenge Joanna’s death…” Leo stammered, “Then I…”
Alveira said, “That is my wish as well.”
Leo closed his eyes and bowed his head to her. “When I met Joanna, she was also twenty.”
“Thank you, Leonard.”
The Princess accepted his salute, then turned to Alois and Joshua, who had been quietly waiting beside her.
“And you two?”
Alois stepped forward. “I will serve you as I served your brother, Your Highness, as long as you vow to avenge Prince Annot and Joanna and allow me to avenge myself.”
“I swear, by my mother, the kings and queens of the Empire, and my honor.”
Alois knelt before her.
“I will not pledge allegiance to you, Your Highness.” Joshua Planck placed a hand over his heart, bowing to Alveira, “But I will help you to the best of my abilities.”
“Thank you, Mourner.”
Then Alveira walked to the front of the command chair, facing the changing screens. “Connect me to everyone, Leo.”
“What?”
“I want to speak to all of Milantu. Connect me.”
Five seconds later, everyone in Milantu was contacted by Leo. TVs and computers were forcibly switched to the channel, and all broadcasts connected to the Lady of the Night. A holographic image of Princess Alveira filled the spaceport square, the rain-cleared sky momentarily dominated by her face. At the same time, the bridge of the Lady of the Night displayed scenes of Milantu’s streets, showing people at home, at work, or stopping to watch on the streets.
“People of Milantu, I am Alveira Chabais, from the Unfallen Star, daughter of Queen Noya I, the first heir to the Empire. I came from the capital to Milantu for one reason—”
She raised her hand. “What will you do after the death of Captain Joanna Begrel?”
Everyone had pondered this question, but not everyone had decided. Leo saw shock, anger, and confusion on people’s faces, along with the sadness that mentioning the deceased brings.
“It is well known that Joanna was killed by the rebel Duke Winnet. The Duke’s army attacked the Dream of a Cold Night, and the captain heroically sacrificed herself to protect everyone…but you may not know that my brother, Prince Annot, also recently passed away. He was essentially driven to death by Duke Winnet, who had his lover killed, causing him years of unbearable pain. And you certainly don’t know…”
The Princess paused, leaving a few seconds of silence before continuing, “You certainly don’t know that the Duke also tried to kill me—he sent assassins to Leiting. That’s where and when I met Joanna. If it weren’t for her, I would be dead. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be standing here speaking to you. I am deeply…grateful to her. When we parted, I was thinking about how to thank her the next time we meet. But I never got the chance.”
No one got the chance, Leo thought. Except for those lucky ones who went before her.
“Now, many soldiers are fighting against Winnet’s forces on the front lines. I will soon join them. Joanna once fought under the Empire’s Red Eagle banner, and her legend began then. I don’t dare compare myself to her, but I want to try to walk the path she walked. I want to pick up her weapon and continue the fight. I want revenge for them.”
“And you—I invite you to join me, but I will not force you. If any of you have committed crimes, I pardon you in the name of the Queen. You can stay in Milantu or go elsewhere. As long as you don’t break Empire law, you will no longer be pursued by the Empire and will be treated and protected as citizens of the Empire. If you wish to follow me into battle, I promise you the treatment of Empire soldiers, as Joanna received during her service. For those who unfortunately fall, I will take care of their families. For those who survive, I promise a rich reward after our great revenge, allowing them to return home with honor.”
“If you are uncertain about the future, I offer a possibility, but you must decide. I know this decision is difficult, as I have also hesitated and wavered. I can wait, but not forever. Three days from now, the Lady of the Night will set sail on time.”
After Alveira finished her speech, she tilted her head slightly and then sat in the command chair.
For a moment, Leo thought he saw the red-haired pirate sitting in the chair, but he realized it was just an illusion.
Hadn’t Joanna said something similar? “Those willing to follow me, come with me! Those who entrust their fate to me are my brothers and sisters!” Leo thought Alveira wouldn’t say such words. Her brother was dead, and she wasn’t Joanna.
Even if the universe held infinite possibilities and the future was long, there would never be another Joanna Begrel.
With that, Alveira descended the gangway unhurriedly. Casper put away the umbrella, loyally following her. The princess scanned the crowd, finding familiar faces—Alois Lagrange, a former Royal Guard at the White Palace, and the legendary assassin, Mourner (Alveira keenly noticed he was Alois’s lover, surprising her but making sense). Surrounded by strangers on this unknown planet, they were the only ones she could trust.
“Are you Alveira Chabais?” a tall man asked loudly.
Alveira met his gaze, striving to sound fearless. “Yes.”
The crowd buzzed, like a breeze over a field. Alveira heard whispers about why the Princess of the Empire was on this pirate-infested frontier planet. She stood tall, displaying the poise of a princess of the Galactic Empire, though her right hand trembled. She hid it behind her back, trying to cover it with her skirt folds, then thought it foolish.
“Why has Your Royal Highness come to Milantu?” the man asked again.
Alveira looked at him briefly, then scanned the crowd. Her mother’s teaching echoed in her ears. “When facing many people, look at each one without seeing all. Make them feel observed and understood.” Back then, Queen Noya I wasn’t as reclusive, occasionally showing concern for her daughter’s studies and teaching her the necessary etiquette and skills of a princess.
So, Alveira “generally” looked at the crowd, answering, “I heard Milantu was Joanna Begrel’s territory. I wanted to see where she lived.”
On the other side of the square was the legendary ship, the Lady of the Night, the pinnacle of Neo Athens technology, Joanna Begrel’s flagship. It was huge, elegant, sophisticated, and magnificent, just like its owner. Alveira thought, But it won’t sink, won’t fall like a meteor among the stars. It will forever soar in space, in the world of the living and the legends of the dead.
“I also want to see the Lady of the Night.” Alveira’s eyes couldn’t leave the black hull. “Can I…go aboard?”
She turned to the crowd, especially the man who had questioned her, as if seeking their permission. But she knew she didn’t need it. The Lady of the Night belonged to Joanna, and no one could decide for her.
Seeing no response, Alveira remembered the AI often seen with Joanna, managing the ship’s affairs, and Milantu in her absence.
“Leonard? May I board?”
After a while, the AI’s hesitant voice responded, “Do you know me, Your Highness?”
Alveira looked puzzled at Alois Lagrange. She could only rely on him now.
Alois cleared his throat. “Uh…Leonard has some data stored on a chip. We need to upload it to the Lady of the Night’s database.” He pushed through the crowd. “Go home! Nothing to see here! Go home!”
A short girl next to him said, “You should understand our desire to see the Princess.”
“If you want, I’ll bring her to your place for dinner tonight?”
“Oh, thanks. My brother wants to marry a princess.”
“Titia!”
The girl turned and gestured to the crowd. “Hey, go home! It’s just a princess, nothing to see!” Some people lost interest, returning home, but more stayed, watching Alveira Chabais approach the Lady of the Night.
Alois fumbled around the bridge console to find the chip slot. “This thing is too well hidden,” he muttered, inserting the chip.
Leonard’s hologram appeared. “That’s a slot, not an asshole. Why would it be exposed?”
Alois rolled his eyes. “Where’s the Princess?”
“I’m showing her and her little follower around the ship. I don’t understand her interest.”
A pair of arms wrapped around Alois’s shoulders. “I bet she’s more interested in the command chair,” Joshua whispered.
“I noticed.”
“What are your thoughts?” Joshua turned him around.
“My thoughts?” Alois felt uncomfortable under the assassin’s gaze. “What do you mean?”
“The princess wants the Lady of the Night,” Joshua said. “And Milantu’s ships and people. She wants us to join her army, to fight her enemies.”
“Is that wrong?”
“We are pirates.”
Alois felt dry-mouthed. They were too close, discussing such serious matters.
“I heard,” he swallowed, avoiding Joshua’s face, “Joanna was a soldier before becoming a pirate.”
“And you?” Joshua asked. “You were a member of the Royal Guard, tasked with protecting Prince Annot. You knew the Princess before me. Now she’s the Empire’s first heir. If she calls, will you follow?”
“I will,” Alois answered firmly. He held Joshua’s arm with his prosthetic. “What about you? Will you come with me?”
Joshua embraced him. “I once thought of taking you away.” The assassin kissed Alois’s ear. “Far from the Empire, war, pirates, loyalty, and everything else, to a distant planet, a peaceful place, building a house, raising a cat and dog, and living quietly. I once thought so.” He sighed. “But I can’t forgive those who hurt you. They almost took you from me. Then I knew, I couldn’t leave you…”
He kissed Alois’s forehead. “And, I must kill those who hurt you.”
“Together?”
“As long as you don’t mind me.”
Alois’s heart raced, like a war drum in his chest. He traced Joshua’s body, from his chest, collarbone, finally resting on his jawline. The beautiful lines made him want to kiss it. As he was about to act, Leonard (damn him! Always him!) interrupted again.
“Reminder, the Princess will arrive at the bridge in 10 seconds.”
The two separated quickly as if they were electrocuted, pretending to study Leonard’s program nonchalantly and not about to embrace.
The bridge doors rose, and Leo led Alveira and Casper in. The AI gave a knowing look, ignored by Alois’s glare.
“This is the bridge, Your Highness.” Leo bowed gracefully to Alveira, ignoring the flying glares. “You stand at the Lady of the Night’s heart.”
The princess surveyed the six evenly distributed consoles and the changing holographic screens, finally resting her gaze on the command chair in the center.
Titia tapped the wall of the command tower, turning it from white to transparent. Raindrops battered the tower, leaving streaks like tears. Since the remnants of the “Dream of a Cold Night” returned to Milantu with the sad news, the rain hadn’t stopped. Titia once suspected a malfunction in the weather control system, but Leo’s inspection reported everything normal. The system worked diligently, as it did before the First Galactic War, randomly producing weather, just coincidentally causing a prolonged rainy season.
Milantu, shrouded in gloom and rain, carried a melancholic atmosphere. People stayed indoors, avoiding social and recreational activities, and no longer ventured outside the Rylier star system for “hunting”. Time might heal wounds, but scars would remain forever.
Even without hunting, there was no loss. Few dared to pass through the nearby star system, unsure if the leaderless pirates would disband or intensify their attacks. No one acted rashly. Distant star wars would have been dismissed before, but not now. Joanna had gotten involved in that war and never returned.
Titia watched the rain wash over the vast spaceport. Ships traveling in space weren’t afraid of rain, still docked in their berths, but the spot for the Dream of a Cold Night remained empty—forever vacant. Next to her, the Lady of the Night ship, like a defeated black eagle, lay lifeless.
On the square below, a small black figure sat. Titia recognized it as the black cat Schrödinger. It sat motionless, like a black statue. Its usually glossy black fur was now soaked, looking more like a homeless stray than a carefully tended pet.
“Hey, that cat,” Titia said. “It sits in the square every day at this time. Someone should look after it.”
“Spider” Maxim spread his six hands helplessly. “I’ve tried. I swear, I can’t catch that cat with all six hands. It’s too agile, like a ghost.”
Titia turned back to the glass, the black cat’s lonely silhouette against the rain, like a melancholic watercolor painting. Then a golden figure darted into her view. Pavlov ran through the rain, reaching Schrödinger. It nudged the cat with its nose, barked a few times when the cat didn’t move, then sat beside it. The sight of the drenched cat and dog, their owners absent from Milantu, one never to return, was deeply saddening.
“Report!” a staff member shouted. “A ship requests entry to Milantu spaceport!”
“Who is it?” Titia was surprised. Who would cross the Sea of Death to reach the flaming Rylier system now? Unless…
“The applicant is…Alois Lagrange!”
Titia let out an involuntary sound, surprised by its oddity. She looked at Spider and her two brothers near the command platform. They nodded, silently confirming she hadn’t misheard. Their faces lit up with excitement and joy, the first since Joanna’s death.
Titia ran towards the spaceport, stepping over puddles on the ground. Errol followed, waving an umbrella. Above the port, a small transport ship descended slowly. Strong air currents surrounded it as the landing gear extended, and it landed smoothly, splashing the surrounding puddles into ripples.
Titia turned back, taking the umbrella from her brother. She was surprised to see many people following, as if everyone had rushed out of their homes to the spaceport.
The transport ship’s hatch opened, and a silver gangway extended. At the same time, Schrödinger shot out like an arrow, leaping onto the person exiting the hatch. The man yelped, pulling the cat off his face and handing it to the man behind him, who held it while it licked his face.
“Here, your cat!”
“What’s mine is yours,” Joshua Planck said, cradling the cat and scratching its chin. The cat purred contentedly, nuzzling his chest.
Alois Lagrange ignored him, descending the gangway to the welcoming crowd. Their faces were gray but joyful, making Alois feel sad. He remembered his first arrival in Milantu, with clear skies and laughter everywhere, Joanna Begrel introducing new friends from a high perch.
Alois blinked, the memory vivid as if it happened yesterday, but he knew everything had changed.
He saw Titia running to him with tears in her eyes. They embraced and kissed, and he ruffled her hair. She released him and looked at his left hand in disbelief. “What happened to your hand?”
“Uh…a bit of trouble…”
Titia lifted his sleeve, revealing a dark gold metal prosthetic. Her eyes widened. “God, no! Can you still pilot a fighter?”
“Of course!” Alois pinched her cheek. “We can have a match tomorrow. Prepare to lose!”
Then Titia turned to Joshua, checking him thoroughly to ensure he was intact.
“How did you get so battered?”
“Spider” Maxim hugged Alois, followed by Ibb Descartes, Errol, and Chef Celia. Pavlov was among them, rubbing against Alois’s ankle, soaking his pants with its wet fur.
Alois patted the dog’s head. “Hey, buddy, I’m back.”
Pavlov looked at him wistfully, then at Joshua. It circled the assassin, barking twice at Alois. Alois didn’t understand, thinking the dog was looking for something. He had no dog food.
“It’s looking for Joanna,” Titia said. “They’ve been waiting here every day for you.”
Alois felt a pang of emptiness and pain in his heart. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Others bowed their heads, trying to hide their grief. Pavlov, sensing the silence, seemed to understand its owner wouldn’t return. It whimpered, its tail drooping, looking pitiful in the rain.
Suddenly, it turned and barked at the transport ship. The barking drew everyone’s attention to see a man descending the gangway.
“Who is he?” Ibb Descartes asked.
Alois quickly explained, “He’s Casper, my friend.”
Casper, holding an umbrella, wasn’t shielding himself but covering someone else exiting the hatch.
Titia felt a strange, almost delusional hope: Could it be Joanna? Perhaps the captain wasn’t dead, hiding in the transport ship to surprise them…
A stranger appeared at the hatch, holding Casper’s arm, gracefully descending the gangway. She had flaxen hair, violet eyes, and wore a light gray dress, looking like a noble lady. She scanned the crowd expressionlessly, but her eyes didn’t linger on anyone.
Casper held the umbrella high to shield the girl from raindrops, but she pushed his hand away.
“No need, Casper.”
As she spoke, the rain abruptly ceased. The clouds over Milantu quietly dispersed, and sunlight broke through, spotlighting her like a stage actress.
“…Who is she?” someone whispered.
“She is…” Alois took a deep breath but was interrupted by the girl.
“I am Alveira from the Unfallen Star,” she declared.
Alveira looked out the spaceship’s porthole and realized they had landed in the spaceport of the colonial space station Nuica. The gyroscope-shaped artificial space station floated silently in space, generating gravity through rotation. Its central axis remained tilted towards the Empire capital, the “Unfallen Star”. When it belonged to the Empire, it was a fortress standing at the Empire’s border. Now, as an independent free city-state, it was no longer under royal control, yet it retained its subtle tilt, as if reminiscing about the glory of the past or silently mocking the rulers of the Empire.
The spaceport was located at the tip of the “gyroscope”, offering a magnificent view of the starry sky. From Alveira’s angle, she could see a silver-banded nebula, with the twin star system Rylier, commonly known as the “Binary Flame”, rotating deep within. The crimson light of the red giant star reflected off the banded nebula, resembling a ruby ring floating in the vastness of space—or a drop of blood on a white ribbon.
Alveira wondered why she had such a frightening association, perhaps because the fiery red reminded her of Joanna Begrel’s red hair. She had traveled millions of light years to reach here, but the female pirate had already fallen like a meteor among the stars, never to return.
“Your Highness?” the young man beside her asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
Alveira snapped out of her thoughts. “Nothing, just thinking about something. It’s nothing important.” She smiled slightly to ease the young man’s tension.
The young man was named Casper Shannon, a colonel in the Empire Royal Space Navy. When Alveira requested Joanna’s flagship, the colonel volunteered to escort her to Milantu.
“I have my reasons for doing this,” Casper told her during the journey. “My old friend Lagrange is now in Begrel’s pirate fleet. I haven’t seen him in two or three years. The last time I wrote to him, he was still in prison.”
Alveira knew that Alois Lagrange and Casper were classmates. When Lagrange was her brother’s guard, he often mentioned his promising friend in the Empire army. After being falsely imprisoned, Casper never stopped trying to clear his friend’s name, although with little success.
Alveira had seen Lagrange once on Joanna’s ship, back when she had just escaped the perilous Leiting and naively thought she could stay on the ship and follow Joanna into exile. But everyone advised her to go back: Joanna, Lagrange, Darius—they all urged her to return to the Empire capital and be a good princess instead of a wild girl running around with pirates.
But now? Joanna was dead, Lagrange was missing, Darius was fighting the Duke’s rebels on the front lines, and he had sent his most trusted ally to bring her to the pirates’ stronghold—life’s twists and turns were indeed unpredictable.
“What should we do next, Your Highness?” Casper asked. “The civilian ship route only goes to Nuica. We might need to find another way to get to Milantu.”
Alveira nodded. “I heard some black market traders regularly travel to Milantu for trade. Maybe we can hitch a ride with them.” She smiled. “And stop calling me ‘Your Highness’.”
“Thank you for flying with us. Please proceed to the port in an orderly manner under the staff’s guidance. Thank you.” The calm, unemotional voice of a female announcer echoed.
The crowd surged towards the elevator like a dense swarm of ants. Casper followed closely behind Alveira, occasionally reaching out to protect her from bumping into other passengers. This place was too dangerous, the colonel thought. If the princess were to get injured or harmed by someone with ill intentions, Darius Bayes would surely flay him alive.
As Casper worried about the princess’s safety, a man in gray clothes and a low-brimmed hat suddenly appeared from the back, tapping Alveira on the shoulder.
“Ah! Who?” Alveira was startled.
Casper’s heart tightened. He pulled the man away, ready to teach this scoundrel a lesson, but as soon as he raised his fist, his arm was grabbed firmly from behind, unable to move.
“What!” Casper struggled to free himself but was restrained even tighter. “Let go! You scoundrel!” In his panic, he saw the spaceport guards pushing through the crowd towards them, so he shouted louder to draw their attention.
Several guards wielded batons to disperse the crowd. “What’s happening here?”
“Someone attacked us!” Casper yelled.
“No!” Alveira jumped up, stopping the guards from approaching. “We are friends, just playing around!” She turned to the man who tapped her on the shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” The man smiled brightly at the guards.
The person holding Casper’s arm finally released him. “Just playing around,” the person said with a laugh.
The guards frowned, scanning them suspiciously before putting away their batons. “This is a spaceport!” one guard said irritably. “Do not disturb the order.”
“Yes, yes, we’ll catch up somewhere else.” Alveira took Casper’s arm, pulling him away from the two men. “Let’s find a quiet place.”
Now it was Casper who was confused. The princess dragged him through the spaceport into the elevator leading to the station’s interior. Only when the small elevator was left with the four of them did she let go.
“Who are you?” Casper turned to the two strangers.
The man in gray lifted his hat slightly, revealing a pair of blue eyes. “Hey, don’t you recognize me, Casper? After all the times I let you copy my homework. You’re so heartless!”
“…Alois?”
The colonel blinked incredulously, then turned to the other person—a man with long silver hair and heterochromatic black and gold eyes. “Assassin Mourner?” He couldn’t help but grin. “My god…what are you doing here!”
“Quite the coincidence, isn’t it?” The long-lost friend spread his arms, hugging his shoulders. “I should be asking you. Why are you here with Her Royal Highness?”
“We…” Casper looked at the princess, unsure whether to reveal their mission. She nodded.
“We are going to Milantu.”
“Milantu? What are you going there for?”
Alveira said, “To find a ship suitable for revenge.”
Alois endured the indescribable pain throughout the entire night, but the pain subsided by the next day. As morning light filled the room, he opened his eyes and tried moving his arm. The prosthetic responded to his will and moved. The sensation was so subtle that he wondered if he was experiencing phantom limb syndrome.
“It’s not a phantom limb. You have a real arm now,” the doctor said. “However, you’ll need a week of rehabilitation training to adjust the prosthetic to your body’s needs and achieve optimal functionality.”
Rehabilitation training began with simple grasping motions, progressing to more complex tasks like writing and typing, and finally to strength and agility tests. The resourceful doctor even called in Dominic to accompany Alois for a “pleasant” morning in the training room. After being thrown against the wall for the sixth time, the blond man staggered to his feet, cursing the doctor in Olympus dialect as he fled.
The doctor, dissatisfied, tapped the screen, recording the dynamic data. “What an attitude! Mr. Fairmont is a shareholder of this hospital, yet his subordinates are so rude!”
He turned to Alois. “How do you feel?”
“Pretty good, as good as before,” the young man said, looking at his metal left arm, which glowed dark gold under the white light. “Even more sensitive.”
The prosthetic wasn’t as he had imagined—a mere piece of stiff metal. It had touch sensitivity and could detect temperature changes. Apart from its somewhat unsettling appearance, it was almost identical to a normal arm. The only downside was its lack of softness, feeling hard and cold to the touch. Alois worried that Joshua might not like it. Every time he looked at the assassin with questioning eyes, Joshua would simply grip his hand tightly without saying a word, leaving Alois no opportunity to ask.
After completing the rehabilitation training, Alois signed his discharge papers and was half-heartedly escorted out of the hospital. Jolene and Kepler picked him up in a car, and the four of them returned to Joshua’s residence in Avalon. Jolene and Kepler left after having a cup of tea, as they had come to Olympus for business related to the casino and had already delayed their schedule due to Alois’s situation. Alois felt deeply apologetic about this.
“Don’t worry about it, child,” Jolene said, hugging him before leaving. “I’ll come visit you often.”
“We probably won’t stay in Olympus for long, madam,” Alois said. “I plan to head to Milantu in a few days.”
“Ah, right, I forgot. You have your own business too,” Jolene said, wiping her eyes. “I’ll see you off when you leave.”
“Thank you, madam.”
“Make sure to call me often,” Jolene urged like a nagging mother. “And make sure to visit Neo Venice when you have time, or I won’t let you off!”
“Yes, madam.”
Joshua still had many matters to attend to. The next day, he needed to transfer the final payments to Gabriel, Maverick, and hacker Rod, as well as find time to visit “Godfather” Fairmont and invite Miss Harlan to dinner. (She specifically requested Alois join, but Joshua refused. Alois happily agreed. “I won’t let you spend time alone with a beautiful lady,” he said. “Men’s jealousy is stronger than women’s. I’ve seen it now,” Harlan commented.)
Additionally, Joshua needed to organize his peculiar collection.
He first coaxed Alois to bed, then dragged a storage box to the room filled with eyes. The glass orbs could be discarded as garbage, while the real eyes would be sent to the hospital’s affiliated university for students to dissect. Joshua carefully removed each jar from the “hive” and placed it into the storage box. He was surprised to find he could no longer identify which pair of eyes belonged to which unfortunate soul. He used to be able to name them effortlessly, but now he couldn’t recall. Being a cold-blooded assassin felt like a thing of the past. Just a year ago, he was traveling across border planets, claiming his targets’ lives and adding their eyes to his collection. Now, as he stood there reminiscing, it felt like events from a decade ago.
He had truly changed a lot.
“What are you thinking about?” someone said from the doorway.
Joshua was startled, dropping the jar, which rolled a few times on the floor. Alois stood leaning against the doorframe, watching him.
“Why are you awake?”
“I never slept.” He walked over to Joshua, picked up the jar, and handed it back to him. “Why are you putting them away?”
Joshua looked at him, then at the jar in his hand. “I don’t need them anymore.”
“You don’t like collecting eyes anymore?” Alois said with a playful smirk.
The assassin put the jar in the storage box and stood up to kiss Alois’s eyes. “Now I just need your eyes.”
Alois’s eyelashes fluttered like a butterfly landing on his lips.
“Just don’t take them out.”
“Your eyes are the most beautiful on you.”
Alois smiled, his blue eyes shining like gems. Joshua’s heart stirred, and he captured his lips, his hot tongue invading deeply, exploring every soft corner. Alois, unsteady on his feet, was pulled tightly into Joshua’s embrace.
“Mm…” Alois struggled to breathe, feeling like he was floating. He gripped Joshua’s back, accidentally pulling some hair. The assassin let go of him in pain.
“Sorry.” Alois quickly released him. “I… I still can’t control my strength well…” He looked down, feeling like a guilty child, hiding his metal prosthetic behind him. Joshua grabbed his hand and pulled him back.
“It’s okay,” the assassin said. “I like it when you hurt me.”
He tried to joke to lighten the mood, but Alois didn’t laugh, instead looking even more dejected.
“Joshua, will you not like it?”
“What?”
“The prosthetic.”
“Why would you think that?”
Alois avoided his gaze. “Because… it’s not very nice to look at, and it feels uncomfortable…”
“You think I care about that?” Joshua held his left hand. “If I cared, I wouldn’t have chosen this model in the first place.”
Alois nodded. “The doctor… the doctor told me.”
“I love you. I love every part of you. If I care about anything, it’s hating the person who broke your hand and blaming myself for not taking better care of you.”
“It… It’s not your fault…” Alois nearly cried.
Joshua hugged him, his fingers brushing over the cold metal. He stared at the nearly empty shelf, which used to be filled with his dark, twisted memories. Now, he was emptying it, just like he was clearing his heart to make room for someone else.
He thought, ‘It’s time.’
“I have something to give you. Wait here.”
He released Alois and left the room, returning with a small black box.
“I’ve carried this for a long time, wanting to give it to you, but I never had the courage,” Joshua admitted. “I wasn’t ready, and I was afraid you’d refuse, so until now…”
Alois looked puzzled. “What is it?”
Joshua opened the box.
Inside, lined with soft white velvet, were two rings. The rings were crafted from a type of gemstone, glowing a beautiful pale purple in the faint light, with intricate engravings of flowers that surrounded the letters J and A.
Alois felt like he was suffocating, as if all the air had been sucked out of the room the moment the box opened. His throat trembled, and after a long while, he managed to speak in a hoarse voice. “This is… for me?”
“Yes.” Joshua nodded. “Will you accept it?”
In Milantu, he had asked Alois for rainbow obsidian and had “Spider” craft these rings. He had always wanted to give them to Alois but had never taken the step. Joshua had to admit he had a cowardly side. He feared Alois would reject him and lacked the courage to give everything to another person.
But now things were different. He was ready to embrace his future partner, to spend his short yet long life together, dedicating his life, soul, and love to that one person.
“Will you accept it?”
Alois blinked, tears streaming down his face. He could barely speak as he answered, “I will.”
Joshua took one ring and slid it onto Alois’s left ring finger. The prosthetic glowed softly under the ring’s light.
“Will you help me put mine on?”
Alois, still sniffling, placed the other ring on Joshua’s finger. The ring changed colors with the angle, shifting from pale purple to light blue, pale green, pink, and crimson.
“It’s beautiful,” Joshua said. “Do you like it?”
Alois couldn’t speak, only nodding vigorously.
They embraced tightly, as if they were always meant to hold each other and would never be apart again.
“Stop touching me, Joshua! What do you think you’re doing?”
Joshua froze, then gave a suggestive smile. “What? Did my touch turn you on?”
He moved his hand to Alois’s groin, where it was already getting hard. Alois was always so sensitive in front of him. Just a few touches could ignite his desire. Joshua knew every spot on this body, exactly where to stimulate for the best response.
“Joshua, we’re in a hospital.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you—”
“I’m not trying to do anything like that, really,” Joshua said honestly. “It’s you who can’t control yourself.”
“Who do you think caused this in the first place?” Alois growled.
“What do you mean?” The assassin lifted the hem of Alois’s hospital gown, slipping his hand inside to tease his cock. “Are you talking about me making you hard?” He lightly licked Alois’s earlobe. “Or me training you to be this sensitive?”
Alois felt that no matter how he answered, it would be wrong. So, he decided to keep quiet. If he had just felt a bit aroused before, now it was becoming unbearable. He spread his legs, wanting Joshua to touch him more fully, but the assassin seemed to be teasing him deliberately, avoiding the most sensitive spots and only giving him a teasingly light pleasure.
“Can’t you take this seriously?” he finally swore.
Joshua’s smile deepened. “How seriously do you want me to take it?”
What else? Just do it! Do I need to teach you? Alois screamed internally. If he wasn’t in a condition where he couldn’t move, he would have flipped over and taken control himself!
He really wanted to. Just as he was about to act on this thought, Joshua pulled the covers off, exposing his naked lower body to the air.
“Hey, are we really doing this?”
“Do I look like that kind of person?” Joshua held Alois’s erect member. “Your body isn’t fully recovered, so just lie back and enjoy.”
Before Alois could respond, the assassin bent down and took his cock into his mouth. He went all the way to the base, until the head was deep in his throat, then slowly withdrew, repeating the motion several times. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. Hearing Alois moan in pleasure even made Joshua happy.
On reflection, they had known each other for so long and done everything together, but this was the first time Joshua had given him oral. While the assassin himself enjoyed being serviced, he had never done it for Alois. Subconsciously, he was still influenced by the shadows of his youth, perhaps mixed with some arrogance and inexplicable pride, making him reluctant to “lower himself” to do such things. Now, looking back, this kind of pointless resistance was utterly foolish—how selfish had he been in his relationship with Alois!
Joshua felt a wave of self-loathing for his selfishness. But then he thought, sometimes being selfish was necessary. Making Alois happy was one thing but keeping him close was another. For the latter, he would use any means necessary.
He licked and sucked on Alois’s penis, wrapping his lips around the swollen head, his tongue swirling over the tip, occasionally brushing over the small slit. As he noticed the young man’s breathing and heartbeat quicken, he licked even slower, savoring the entire length from base to tip, then taking the balls into his mouth. When his teeth grazed the surface, he heard Alois gasp.
“Stop, Joshua…” Alois’s breath was ragged. “I’m going to… cum…”
“Do it. I’ll swallow it all.”
Alois’s remaining right hand clenched the bedsheet, his body trembling as he ejaculated. Joshua kept his penis in his mouth, swallowing all the semen. The taste was strange, but because it was Alois’s, he liked it.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
Alois didn’t speak and just nodded. The gown’s hem was still open, revealing his flushed skin, as if he had just been violated rather than pleasured. Joshua went to the bathroom to wring out a towel, cleaning his body (and removing any evidence to avoid the perceptive doctor’s suspicion the next day), then straightened his clothes and laid back beside him.
“Joshua, you…” Alois turned his head closer to the assassin. “Don’t you need it?”
“I’ll take care of it myself.”
“I can help you…”
The assassin silenced him with a kiss.
“Your body isn’t fully recovered.” Joshua smiled. “Once you’re completely well, we’ll have plenty of time to ‘take care of it’.”
“…Okay.” Alois mumbled, burying his head in Joshua’s chest.
The scheduled day for the surgery quickly arrived. Alois was taken into the operating room to have the prosthesis installed. Despite the doctor’s repeated assurances that nothing would go wrong, Joshua still paced anxiously outside the operating room for most of the day. After the surgery, he followed Alois back to the ward, where the young man was still in post-anesthesia sleep.
“Surgery isn’t the scary part,” the doctor said seriously. “It’s the 24 hours after the anesthesia wears off that are the hardest.”
When Alois woke from his sleep, he understood the doctor’s words.
He woke up in pain, a pain comparable to when his hand was amputated. It was like the feeling of a bound hand being released, the pain and numbness from the blood circulation restoring. The artificial nerves in the prosthesis connecting to the body’s nerves felt similar but more intense. Alois felt like the area in contact with the prosthesis was burning, with thousands of steel needles coursing through his nerves, not missing a single opportunity to torment him.
He had to endure the pain awake; painkillers would negate the surgery’s effect.
Joshua stayed with him, and Jolene and Kepler also came. To distract from the pain, Alois asked Jolene to continue telling stories of their past. He focused all his attention on listening, trying to forget the pain in his body. When visiting hours ended and the doctor came to chase everyone away to let the patient rest, the pain still hadn’t ceased.
“I feel like I’m dying, Joshua.”
The assassin held him, kissing him constantly. “Hold on,” he said. “It’ll be over soon. If it still hurts, just bite me.”
So Alois did bite his shoulder. Joshua silently bore the pain. He shouldn’t have to suffer like this, Joshua thought. If I could take some of the pain for him, even a little…
A warm drop fell on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Joshua quickly got up.
Alois had tears at the corners of his eyes. “It really hurts…” he sobbed.
Joshua hugged him tightly, his chin resting on the top of his head. “Cry if you need to.”
“I won’t.”
“Then keep biting.”
“You’re bleeding.”
Joshua realized his shoulder was bleeding from the bite. This small injury was nothing, he thought.
The day after being transferred to a regular ward from the treatment pod, Alois woke up.
He felt like he had been suddenly yanked out of water after drowning, his lungs feeling uncomfortable. He took several deep breaths before realizing he could breathe. The sunlight was blinding, the window wide open, and the curtains drawn back, letting all the light flood in. Although it might have been a beautiful sight, it was extremely dazzling.
Alois closed his eyes, but the sunlight still pierced through his eyelids, creating a dark red haze in front of his eyes, like blood spreading out before him. He tried to cover his eyes, struggling for a long time without success. Then he remembered that his left hand was gone—broken under torture.
There was a rustling sound as someone pulled the curtains closed, darkening the room. Only then did Alois open his eyes, feeling parched and dizzy.
The mattress shifted and sagged slightly as someone sat down next to him. “You’re awake?” the person said gently.
“…Joshua?” Alois was startled by his own hoarse voice.
Joshua brought a cup of water, lifting him up slowly to help him drink. Alois felt a bit better. He grabbed Joshua’s sleeve with his only hand, stubbornly pulling him closer. “Joshua, is it really you?” he asked. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”
“You’re not.” Joshua set the cup aside, gently brushed a lock of hair from Alois’s forehead, and leaned down to give him a kiss. “Thank God, you finally woke up.”
Alois’s heart trembled. Joshua was really there beside him, looking a bit tired and haggard, but his hands and lips were warm. This wasn’t a dream. He had left that hellish place and returned to Joshua’s side.
“I…” Tears almost spilled from Alois’s eyes. “I thought I would never see you again…”
Joshua lifted him slightly, holding him close to his chest. “It’s all over,” the assassin whispered. “Don’t be afraid. I will always be here to protect you. No one will ever take you away from me again…”
The door to the ward was rudely pushed open, and Dominic entered, holding a large bouquet of flowers.
“Why is it so dark in here?” He nonchalantly pushed Joshua aside, placed the flowers in the vase on the bedside table, and then took it upon himself to open the curtains, letting bright sunlight flood the room.
“Now it looks like a proper ward!” he said, satisfied.
“What are you doing here?” “Who are you?” Joshua and Alois asked simultaneously.
Dominic’s face scrunched up. “Who am I?” He stared directly at Alois. “I’m your savior. I personally pulled you out of that damn collapsing building, and you dare ask who I am?”
Alois felt very awkward under his gaze. “Uh… thank you…”
Dominic tossed his golden head. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Didn’t you just ask for my thanks? And now you tell me not to worry? What do you mean? Alois screamed internally. He wanted to defy the decorum of a patient, jump up from the bed, and shove that golden head into the flowers—if he still had his left hand.
“And you.” Dominic turned to Joshua. “I’m here on behalf of Mr. Fairmont. Can’t you be a bit more polite?”
“I’ll visit personally to thank you another day.”
After a while, Joshua added, “Thank you, Dominic.”
Only then did Dominic leave, satisfied.
Not long after he left, Jolene and Kepler arrived, almost as if they were taking shifts. The moment Jolene saw Alois, she threw herself on him like a mother leopard reuniting with her cub, bawling loudly. Alois was utterly confused, his eyes darting between Joshua and these unfamiliar people, trying to find answers in their expressions but failing.
Joshua, unsure how to explain this complicated situation, sought help from Kepler. The loan shark smiled shrewdly and said to Alois, “Do you remember me, kid?”
In fact, Alois found the man somewhat familiar but couldn’t quite place him. Joshua whispered a hint in his ear. “Noe Venice.” Finally, he remembered the man’s identity.
“Ah… the loan shark!”
“My name is Erwin Kepler,” the loan shark said, making a gesture toward the still-sobbing Jolene. “This is Jolene Cavendish. We are friends of your father.”
Alois blinked. “My father’s… friends?”
“Yes, though you probably don’t know us.” Kepler gave a somewhat bitter smile.
Jolene looked up with tearful eyes. “We searched for your father for a long time after he disappeared…” She sobbed. “I had almost given up hope, but then we found you… Child, you…” She took Alois’s face in her trembling hands. “You look so much like your father…”
The young man was at a loss. “I… actually, I…” he stammered. “I don’t really remember what my father looked like… He passed away when I was very young, and there are no photos…”
Jolene hugged him tightly. “Oh, you poor child!” She pulled out her communication terminal from her bag, tapped a few times, and a holographic photo appeared. “Look, this is a picture of us with your father.”
In the photo, a group of young people stood in a row. Alois immediately recognized Jolene and Kepler; they hadn’t changed much, just aged. Jolene pointed to a young man in the corner. “See, this is your father.”
The young man was looking off to the side, seemingly distracted, like a solitary bird, not quite fitting in.
Alois touched his own face. The young man in the photo did bear some resemblance to him. Was this really his father? He couldn’t remember his father’s face, nor his mother’s. Her image was just a blurry shape behind frosted glass. Was this what his father looked like when he was young?
“Can I have a copy of this photo?”
“Of course, child.” Then Jolene took his hand and began recounting the past. Learning that his father was a famous master thief, Alois was quite shocked. But once he accepted it, it all seemed to make sense. Jolene spoke with tears streaming down, and Alois kept comforting her, making it seem as if she was the patient and he was the visiting family member.
If not for the attending doctor barging into the ward and ordering everyone to leave to avoid disturbing the patient’s rest, Jolene would have gladly talked for three days and nights. Under the doctor’s stern gaze, Jolene reluctantly left with Kepler, reminding Alois to rest well before departing.
Joshua was allowed to stay since Alois needed care. The assassin, who had probably never taken care of anyone in his life, was initially clumsy, prompting Alois to tease him for a long time.
“I can do this,” Joshua retorted. “I’ll take care of you from now on.”
“What about after I get the prosthesis?”
“That won’t change. Don’t even think about refusing me.” The assassin pushed him back onto the bed. “How do you feel? Tired?”
Alois shook his head. “I’m so happy,” he said. “I have two more family members now.”
Joshua ruffled his hair. “Get some rest. The surgery is scheduled for next Tuesday. They say it will be tough.”
“Can it be tougher than losing a hand?” Alois tried to joke, but Joshua’s face darkened. He quickly changed the subject. “I feel a bit cold.”
“Should I turn up the heat?”
“No.” Alois shifted to make space on the bed. “Come up.”
“…If the doctor sees, he’ll probably punch me.” Despite his words, Joshua removed his outer clothes and shoes, climbed onto the bed, and held Alois in his arms. He accidentally touched the left stump, causing a faint gasp of pain.
“Sorry.” Joshua quickly adjusted his position, embracing the young man’s back. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Alois nestled into his chest like a wounded animal. “It just hurts a bit.”
“It’s all my fault. I didn’t protect you. I’m sorry.” He kissed the black hair scattered on the pillow. Apologizing was all he could do; he didn’t dare ask for Alois’s forgiveness. Because of his negligence, Alois had suffered so much. He felt he deserved to die a thousand deaths.
Joshua felt as if something had struck his chest, making it hard to breathe. His heart felt repeatedly stabbed, dripping blood. When Alois was injured, he had felt as if he wanted to rip his own heart out. But even that wouldn’t bring any relief. He couldn’t turn back time to correct his mistakes, nor could he defy nature to restore Alois’s hand.
Alois had once said that if Joshua got hurt, he would be sad. Joshua felt the same way. Every time he saw Alois’s prosthetic, he would remember those words and feel immense pain. Joshua told himself that compared to what Alois had suffered, his own pain was nothing. He needed to remember this pain to avoid repeating his mistakes.
He felt Alois’s body tremble slightly in his arms. He touched the young man’s shoulder blade, shocked to find how thin he had become—in just a few days, he had lost so much weight. This realization hit Joshua hard. He moved his hand down to Alois’s waist, gently feeling it. Indeed, he had grown thinner.
Joshua felt like crying.
Suddenly, Alois pushed him away, exasperated. “Stop touching me, Joshua! What are you doing!”
In the end, Joshua couldn’t resist Jolene and was driven to another room designated for family members to rest. “Get a good sleep,” the casino owner commanded in her usual authoritative tone. “When I come to get you, if I find your eyes open, I promise they won’t open again.”
The assassin wasn’t easily intimidated by such threats, but he didn’t dare go against Jolene’s wishes. Though she wasn’t married and had no children, her demeanor was like that of a strict mother, making people obey. After she left, Joshua lay in the modestly furnished room, constantly replaying in his mind what he had heard from Jolene.
Master thief. Figaro. Neo Athens.
These words, when connected, seemed to hold some mysterious power, hinting at the truth Neo Athens had hidden until now. He should have figured it out sooner!
He took out his communication terminal, transforming it into a projector, and placed it on the floor.
“Leonard,” Joshua called out to the AI.
Leo, ever meticulous in his robe, appeared above the terminal. Today he looked especially solemn, likely because he had overheard Joshua and Jolene’s conversation through the hospital’s internal surveillance.
“Do you know what I’m going to ask?”
Leo folded his hands in his sleeves and squinted. “Ah, let me guess… you want to ask if the thing Figaro stole from Neo Athens was me?”
Joshua said nothing, implicitly acknowledging the AI’s guess.
“Yes. It was me.”
As expected, but the assassin was still a bit surprised by Leo’s frankness.
“What, did you think I’d be evasive?” Leo sneered. “What’s there to hide? Even if you didn’t ask me, Giorgione or Norlin Titian would tell you the answer.”
“They all know it was Figaro who stole your chip?”
“Of course. It’s no secret among the higher-ups in Neo Athens.”
“And Alois?” Joshua asked. “Do they all know Figaro is Alois’s father?”
“Of course—no, they don’t.” Leo dragged out his words. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t still be here.”
“How did you end up on Joanna’s ship?”
“That’s a long story.”
Joshua pressed his temples. “You’re confusing me.”
“Shall I tell you the whole story?”
“If it helps me understand the facts, go ahead.”
Leo pondered. “Let’s start from when Figaro stole the chip from Neo Athens. As you know, he received a mysterious and challenging mission to steal a chip containing a high-end AI—that’s me. He succeeded, and we left Neo Athens safely, but he didn’t deliver me to his employer.”
“Why?” Joshua asked, following Leo’s habit of timely questioning.
“Because he made a mistake. He got curious about his spoils and inserted the chip into his personal computer, and then…” Leo made a blooming gesture. “I woke up.”
“Seems like you didn’t do anything good once you woke up.”
“Oh, how can you say that? It hurts my feelings.” Leo pretended to be hurt. “I analyzed the situation immediately after waking up and persuaded Figaro not to hand me over to his employer—if I hadn’t, the galactic situation would have been overturned. Figaro was smart; although a thief, he had a sense of justice. He knew the item he had stolen could cause unprecedented disaster if misused. I advised him to flee, take his family far away, and I would create a new identity for him, erase all traces, allowing him to live the rest of his life worry-free—the price wasn’t handing me over. He could sell me or keep me for personal use. I didn’t care.” The AI spread his hands. “A great idea, ensuring both galactic peace and his future.”
“Did Figaro agree?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Leonard shrugged. “He said he wanted to seek asylum in the Empire, so I got him tickets to the Empire capital and created a new identity for him. He changed his name to ‘Garcia Lagrange’, his wife was Ellen, and his son was Alois. Garcia Lagrange was an antique dealer who made a small fortune and moved his family to the capital, living a carefree life. No one knew he was the infamous ‘Figaro the Thief’. Not even his close associates could find him, let alone his employer or Neo Athens. He sold me to an underworld merchant, and we never contacted each other again. I drifted through the black market until Joanna bought me. She was twenty then, still a young girl.”
The AI sighed. “You humans have such short lives.”
Joshua felt no sympathy. He had long understood the fleeting nature of life, to the point of being numb to sorrow. “Did you always know Alois was Figaro’s son?”
“Ah, yes.” Leonard tilted his head. “I knew the first time I accessed his records.”
“And you kept it from him and from me?” Joshua asked.
“What else should I have done? ‘Hey, are you old Lagrange’s son? Hi! I’m an old friend of your father’s! He’s the one who stole me from Neo Athens!’ Should I have said that? Or ‘Hey, Joshua, I’ve got a secret for you. Your lover’s dad is the one who stole me from Neo Athens! It’s fate!’ Would that have worked?”
Joshua felt his chest tighten. “Does anyone else know? Does Joanna know?”
“So far, you’re the only one I’ve told,” Leo said seriously. “But I only learned later that Figaro died in the war. You humans always…”
Joshua quickly stopped his lament. “Why did Figaro join the military later?”
“You don’t know? The ‘Great Conscription’ of 1397. One-quarter of the Empire’s adult males were forcibly enlisted. Figaro was just unlucky.”
“So his death in the Battle of Dacia was a mere accident?”
Leo’s expression became very peculiar. “You mean that friendly fire incident? You suspect someone murdered Figaro and disguised it as an accident?”
“I have to suspect.”
Joshua had heard of the infamous “non-combat loss”. Allegedly, an Empire cruiser mistakenly attacked a supply ship, thinking it was an enemy, causing the supply ship to sink with no survivors. Alois’s father happened to be on that supply ship. The incident was filled with doubts, not least why the cruiser mistook the ship for an enemy. The captain claimed that after issuing the attack order, a scout identified the “enemy ship” as a supply ship. The captain ordered a ceasefire, but the computer system “malfunctioned”, and the attack continued until the supply ship sank.
The incident, full of inconsistencies, was deliberately downplayed and covered up by the Empire military, with everyone under a gag order. Unless the relevant documents were declassified seventy years later, no one would know the truth.
“To be honest…” Leo hesitated uncharacteristically. “I don’t think it was an accident. I believe someone orchestrated it.”
“You mean the so-called ‘malfunction’ and ‘error’ were deliberate?” A sense of foreboding rose in Joshua. “Who could cause such a massive ‘malfunction’ in a warship’s system? The AI of Neo Athens?”
“No.” Despite his dislike for his three siblings, Leonard was somewhat protective. “I can assure you they weren’t involved.”
“You swear?”
“On Isaac Asimov, John von Neumann, and Alan Turing.”
“Then who could it be? Human hackers couldn’t have such power.” Joshua’s voice grew lower. “Could there be a fifth AI in the world?”
Leo didn’t answer. He didn’t know and couldn’t speculate.
“Was Alois’s father silenced? By his employer?”
Leonard remained silent.
“Who was his employer? You must know.”
Leonard’s eyelashes fluttered. “I didn’t initially know, but I deduced the most likely answer.”
“Who?”
“Not a specific person, but a coordinated entity—a personified organization—the Federal Parliament.”
Joshua was speechless for a long time, stunned by the complexity of the truth.
“Will you tell him?” Leo turned his face. “Tell Alois all this?”
“He has the right to know. If he wants to know, I won’t hide it from him.”
Leo pursed his lips. “If he wants to know, let me tell him. If you relay it, God knows how you’ll distort the facts.”
Recalling what had just happened, the ghost immortal A’Shou was furious.
She had been carefully inspecting a seal in her room when the paper figure Dian’er suddenly rushed in wailing like a ghost, shouting that the Mid-Autumn E had been broken.
A’Shou was stunned.
The Mid-Autumn E and the “half-step ghost immortal” Li Shuo were interlinked, bound by cause and effect. They were strangely compatible. If Li Shuo consumed enough living souls to build his strength, he could easily ascend to ghost immortal.
To destroy the Mid-Autumn E, the sacrifices would have to survive days of carnage, see through the real form of the “Mid-Autumn E”, discover Li Shuo behind the scenes early on, and then deal with him somehow.
In previous rituals, the offerings never got close to figuring out the real nature of the Mid-Autumn E, much less discovering Li Shuo.
And now Li Shuo was just a step away from becoming an immortal. A’Shou thought surely no one could break the Mid-Autumn E at this point. She was already poised to welcome a newly born ghost immortal at the end of this ritual.
…Yet Dian’er was now claiming that the Mid-Autumn E had been destroyed?
No, no, no—something else was more important.
Beneath her bridal veil, A’Shou’s brows knit. “Since the ‘E’ is broken, you should go meet the sacrifices. What are you sniveling to me for?”
Dian’er, kneeling on the ground, opened its mouth several times but couldn’t get the words out. Finally, in a small voice, he said, “Li… Li Shuo wanted to give it all up on his own, so I used the Underworld’s detection spell to provoke him a bit…”
“…You did what?!” A’Shou shot to her feet.
She was already tall to begin with. Adding her thick-soled wedding shoes, she stood at least 1.84 meters tall. She halted in front of the paper figure, leaning forward slightly, her blood-red veil swaying ominously.
The paper figure didn’t dare lift its head. “Li Shuo must have been confused, or else what ghost wouldn’t want to become an immortal… Once he came to his senses, he’d surely be grateful to us. My Lady, he just needed this final ritual… My Lady…”
A’Shou let out a furious laugh. “There are countless battles where the underdog emerges victorious. Have you ever seen a general throwing a tantrum, refusing to accept a fair defeat?”
“All things follow their destined course. If you lose, you lose. Forcibly meddling in karma goes against the Heavenly Way. Even if Li Shuo had ascended, he’d be a crippled ‘fake immortal’ from the start!”
Seeing the ghost immortal enraged, the paper figure shook from head to toe. “I-I-I failed anyway. The spell got broken… Please spare me, my lady. I was just confused for a moment…”
Dian’er’s spell was broken?
A’Shou paused.
Though Dian’er was rather useless, the ghost officers in the Tower had at least been carefully vetted. They weren’t so easy to handle.
After thinking a moment, she said, “Go to the ‘Temple of Ten Thousand E’s’ and reflect. Come to me tomorrow to receive your punishment. As for the Mid-Autumn E’s sacrifices, I’ll fetch them myself.”
With that, she stepped right over the paper figure, flattening Dian’er into a thin sheet. The paper figure didn’t dare complain, plastered to the ground, not moving for a long time.
……
Now, A’Shou finally saw the one who had undone the E.
She recognized the name “Fang Xiu”. Apparently he was the one who had solved the Weishan E too.
A young man dressed in red, with quite a decent face, though so thin he looked like a penniless scholar. She could pick him up with one hand.
A’Shou observed him for a while and detected no cultivation or sign of magic on Fang Xiu… He was ordinary as could be, neither a hidden master of the metaphysics nor a natural spirit medium who could perceive the Underworld.
Could it be that Dian’er’s spell had been broken by Li Shuo himself?
Very likely. By now, Li Shuo was practically a half-step ghost immortal. It was a pity he’d completely disappeared, leaving her unable to question him.
All she could do was explain the situation to Fang Xiu and offer an apology. Who would have guessed that the moment Fang Xiu heard the word “compensation”, he perked up on the spot?
“Since when does only the guilty party get to call the shots on compensation? Come on, let’s have a good talk!”
He spun around sharply, his eyes brighter than any light bulb in the living world.
A’Shou: “……”
A’Shou: “Fine. I’ll take you all back to the Tower first. Then we can discuss further.”
Indeed, Dian’er’s misconduct was the Underworld’s mistake. This human might be shamelessly greedy, but he had a point, so she’d accept it.
Fang Xiu thought for a moment. “You can take them back first. Let’s talk here.”
It was early morning in the human world now. The sun had just risen, the warm rays shining in through the window, slanting across Fang Xiu’s feet.
Bathed in the sunlight, the ceramic Bodhisattva’s features glinted faintly, as though dawn light had formed drops of dew.
Even though the room was cramped and run-down, and even though a scorched corpse lay at his feet, Fang Xiu wanted to linger a little longer.
A’Shou nodded. With a casual closing of her five fingers, the other five people in the small apartment vanished in an instant, leaving only Fang Xiu.
After sending them away, she asked offhandedly, “Where’s your ghost?”
Fang Xiu reflexively looked to Bai Shuangying, and A’Shou followed his gaze. She noticed a vague silhouette in the corner. The concealment was decently done, neither too weak nor strong enough to fool her.
Like an animal trying to hide in a bush with its tail still sticking out.
“My ghost is a bit shy,” Fang Xiu said, scratching his nose.
A’Shou: “…Your ghost?”
What an odd way to phrase it.
Fang Xiu didn’t seem to get the point. “Sure, my ‘seductive ghost’.”
Oh, a “seductive ghost”. A’Shou remembered.
This kid had probably been bewitched; that was why he spoke so intimately. It wasn’t strange for a seductive ghost to have some beguiling illusion magic. If it wanted to hide, let it hide.
Fang Xiu, however, could see Bai Shuangying’s form clearly, along with the distortions around him for concealment, something A’Shou couldn’t discern nearly as well.
Bai Shuangying’s expression showed annoyance, not shock or panic. He didn’t seem to like A’Shou much, but that was it.
In fact, it felt more like the opposite: those pale eyes kept glancing over from time to time, as though wanting to say something but hesitating.
Fang Xiu gave a little smile, winking at Bai Shuangying.
Then he turned to A’Shou. “Anyway, never mind my ghost. Let’s talk about compensation… What were you going to offer us before?”
A’Shou answered honestly, “I will open the Support Magic Weapon Vault for you to pick one protective magic weapon each. Also, I’ll grant you all another day of rest.”
“You mean that ‘cheating’ was controlling Li Shuo to go berserk, right? Without his timely recovery, we’d all have been done for. That really breaks the ritual’s rules.”
Fang Xiu wasn’t lying, but he omitted Bai Shuangying’s involvement. A few steps away, Bai Shuangying visibly relaxed.
So easy to read, Fang Xiu thought with amusement.
He continued, “Underworld magic weapons for protection aren’t that hard to obtain. Last time, I got a Jade Buddha and an Earth Knocking Cauldron. This time I snagged two Five-Emperor Coins… Simply handing us magic weapons is a bit lacking as compensation.”
A’Shou: “???”
No, no, no. An ordinary person can’t just “grab” things like that. Besides, looting is hardly the same as formally choosing what you want.
Before she could retort, Fang Xiu changed direction. “You see how easy it is to grab magic weapons. If we pick some perfect protective items, then someone else comes along and snatches them, we’ll have lost out.”
A’Shou considered. “I can apply a special binding so no one can take them from you.”
Fang Xiu nodded, still muttering, “That’s only slightly better than owning a magic weapon that’s sworn to a master. You people use the ritual to nurture ghost immortals, which is already quite excessive, and I tried my best to break the E yet nearly got screwed over by the Underworld. That’s a pretty half-hearted reward…”
“What exactly do you want?” He obviously knew quite a bit, so A’Shou lowered her voice.
Fang Xiu: “I’m not sure about the others, but as for me, I’d like a Qiankun Bag*, something that can hold lots of stuff and can be sewn onto the inside of a pocket. Can you get me one?”
*A spatial pouch. It’s a bag that has a vast space and can store almost an unlimited number of things inside it, but its size is that of a regular bag.
With that, he concluded seriously, “You could call it a customized item for the dead.”
A’Shou: “…”
Such a detailed request. How annoying this person was.
If this kid actually made it through all eight rituals, who knew what he might ask for then?
She thought back. The Support Magic Weapon Vault indeed didn’t have something like that. But it wasn’t as if Fang Xiu was asking for anything outrageous…
He hadn’t demanded some big weapon that would unbalance the ritual. All he wanted was to store the things he carried. It was more for defense against other humans than against evil spirits.
Given that this kid was the one who solved the Mid-Autumn E, making him the biggest victim in this affair, A’Shou stayed silent for a few seconds, then agreed.
Fang Xiu let out a relieved breath. “Now about my second magic weapon…”
“What second one?”
“Huh? I solved the E, yet I only get the same single item as everyone else? That’s not fair, logically or emotionally. I was on the front line, so I should at least get one extra.”
A’Shou: “……”
A’Shou: “…Go on.”
If this kid tried to name some ridiculous price, she’d definitely teach him a lesson.
Fang Xiu scratched his head apologetically. “I don’t mean to trouble you all the time, so how about I just pick it out with everyone else when we visit the Support Magic Weapon Vault?”
A’Shou pressed her lips together. Fine, she could tolerate that. She had to give him credit for being sensible enough not to push it further.
“Now that it’s settled, I’ll take you back…”
“Wait, I’m not done!” Fang Xiu interrupted.
“We’ve only discussed magic weapon so far. There’s still the matter of that ‘extra day off’.
“Look, the Disaster Relief Tower has no entertainment at all. For us humans, having one more day off there is basically no different from having none, so that’s not really fair.”
A’Shou: “……”
A’Shou: “…Go on.”
Fang Xiu looked up at her pitifully. “Hey, Boss Lady, can we go play outside?”
“No need to send us back to our real bodies. Just let us run around for a day. Let’s stay in this city, is that okay?”
A’Shou eyed him warily. “That’s all?”
“That’s all.” Fang Xiu nodded emphatically.
A’Shou clenched her teeth. “All right.”
She really didn’t want to keep haggling with this guy. She had the sense that the longer they talked, the more she’d lose out.
Besides, the ritual was indeed being held in the human world, so the sacrifices could freely move about among the living.
Their bodies were all Underworld constructs, so there was “nowhere to run and hide”. Plus, with the ritual under way, ghost officers were stationed around the region. Choosing this city made sense. It didn’t require much extra effort on the Underworld’s part.
Such a crafty brat. He always managed to push her right up to the point where she couldn’t reasonably refuse.
“You’re the best, Sister,” Fang Xiu said gratefully. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
Before A’Shou could respond, Fang Xiu snapped off a piece of Lao Jin, using it like a charcoal stick, and drew a circle around the corpse. “Bai Shuangying, don’t forget to pack it up—”
Sure enough, Fang Xiu’s ghost ambled over. Maintaining his clumsy concealment right under A’Shou’s eyes, he extracted the newly dead soul bit by bit, stowing it away in his arms.
A’Shou was at a complete loss for words.
It was like these two were reincarnations of a juicer, wringing out every last drop.
And the ghost was just like the human. Even with such a formidable ghost immortal (herself) standing there, that “seductive ghost” dared to overcome its apprehension for the sake of a meal.
The moment Lao Jin’s living soul was stripped away entirely, A’Shou couldn’t stand it anymore. She reached out, grabbed both of them, and hauled them back to the Disaster Relief Tower.
The abandoned apartment once again fell silent and empty.
After the tragedy, the so-called “Hoodlum Building” was officially condemned. The city government gave compensation to the owners and decided to demolish it soon. The only reason it hadn’t been torn down immediately was the influence of the Mid-Autumn E.
Now the entire building was utterly quiet. Forget any human bustle. You couldn’t even hear whispers of ghosts.
The bloodstained door trembled slightly and then went still again, suspended in the air.
Sunlight tinged red by dawn fell across the door, making everything look the same as before.
……
Disaster Relief Tower.
Fang Xiu lounged in the courtyard, looking relaxed and planning to have breakfast before returning to his room.
His mood couldn’t have been better…
He’d earned two more Five-Emperor Coins this time, and now the Underworld had promised him two new magic weapons. On top of that, he still had a new anomaly skill on the way.
It felt exactly like leveling up and waiting to claim your reward pack.
And it was only morning. The “full day of rest” would start tomorrow, plus the promised extra day after that. He effectively had three days off in total!
Most importantly, they no longer had to remain cooped up in this dreary courtyard. They could actually go back out into the human world for a bit!
The breakfast was bountiful. Dian’er was nowhere to be found, and the atmosphere felt quite relaxed. Humming a little tune, Fang Xiu picked up some steamed buns, swaying back and forth with contentment.
Meanwhile, Bai Shuangying was methodically preparing a “Lao Jin mooncake”, asking in a low voice, “How did you know to cover for me?”
His tone carried a slight haughtiness and a hint of satisfaction, as though saying, “Finally, Fang Xiu has caught on.”
Fang Xiu eyed him in surprise. “You’re a ghost belonging to the Underworld, and you stepped in to stop some Underworld agent’s sneaky ploy. Once the ritual’s over and I’m gone, wouldn’t they give you trouble?”
“That’s why you seemed anxious, wasn’t it?”
Bai Shuangying lowered his gaze slowly.
For some reason, Fang Xiu sensed a hint of dejection in his ghost.
Hurriedly, Fang Xiu added, “I realize now I misunderstood you at first. Actually, your support magic is really strong. If not for you, I’d definitely have died there this time.”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
He turned away, quietly nibbling on the Lao Jin mooncake.
Oh well, never mind. He himself had also played weak in front of the ghost immortal.
It was more important for him to break his seal. There was still much to digest from the cause-and-effect revealed by the Mid-Autumn E.
…Speaking of Mid-Autumn, the Lao Jin mooncake really tasted great.
Li Shuo had practically shredded Lao Jin’s soul, leaving behind a refined and complex flavor. The taste was balanced in an intriguing way, with layers that danced across the palate.
Deciding to focus on the unique taste, Bai Shuangying ignored the bothersome humans for the time being.
Right now, Fang Xiu was clearly in the best spirits in the courtyard.
Knowing all that had happened with the Mid-Autumn E, Cheng Songyun, Guan He, and Mei Lan were subdued. Jia Xu and Blondie, on the other hand, had just been freed and seemed comparatively cheerful.
Blondie just treated it like another free ride, burying himself in his food. Jia Xu was more cautious. Sitting close to Mei Lan, he quietly asked about what had happened.
“Oh, so it all came down to a photo, huh,” he concluded. “That’s not too hard to guess, but Lao Jin captured me before I could figure out the death taboo.”
Mei Lan ignored him.
Glancing aside at Fang Xiu, Jia Xu raised his voice a bit. “With the ritual over, shouldn’t we be happy? Fang Xiu, I heard that female ghost say there’s going to be compensation for us. What is it?”
Fang Xiu explained, including mention of his extra Qiankun Bag. He didn’t bother hiding it. They’d all find out eventually anyway.
Jia Xu shook his head. “Why go for that little extra day in the human world? You could’ve just asked for more magic weapons, right? I’ll tell you…”
Guan He slammed his porridge bowl down with a bang. “You didn’t do anything at all. Could you just shut up?”
Jia Xu hesitated for a couple of seconds, then gave a short laugh. “Young people get heated so easily.”
“I heard about the ritual. A narc officer died, right? Your first time seeing that, of course you’d feel upset.”
He paused meaningfully. “But the police get paid with taxpayers’ money. If they don’t want to do the job, they don’t have to. You see how calm Fang Xiu is. Once you grow up, you’ll realize that someone like Lao Jin can’t thrive so long unless he has police insiders. Don’t oversimplify. Some cops do it just for the pay…”
Before he could finish, Guan He flung his porridge bowl at him. It flew off-target, smashing between two Eight Immortals tables, hot congee splattering everywhere.
Fang Xiu had half expected Cheng Songyun to stop Guan He, but she only frowned, pressing her lips together.
Jia Xu’s face stiffened. “Fang Xiu, say something to him.”
Fang Xiu took a bite of a steamed bun. “He’s not my kid. Why should I?”
“I’m just pointing out some facts. If he can’t handle reality, he’ll drag everyone else down later,” Jia Xu replied with feigned helplessness.
Fang Xiu: “‘You’ll die someday’ is also a fact. Should I remind you about it every day?”
Blondie let out a careless laugh, nearly choking on his soymilk.
Jia Xu: “……”
Jia Xu: “…No need to single me out. All I said was you shouldn’t have wasted your reward by asking for that trip. I’m just giving an objective opinion.”
Fang Xiu chuckled.
Ignoring Jia Xu, he turned to Guan He, who was still breathing hard. “Xiao Guan, do you know why in that photo only Lin Ge’s face showed?”
Guan He’s attention was immediately drawn in. “Why?”
“Because when he left behind his obsession, he was focused on protecting anyone still alive and looking after the families of fallen comrades. He never thought about protecting himself—he knew he was alone. If he died, it would all be over.”
Guan He: “…Yeah.”
“For me, I’m the same way. If I die, that’s the end of it.”
Fang Xiu grinned. “But people call Lin Ge a ‘lone hero’. People like me, well, they’d call me a ‘desperado’.”
Guan He, Jia Xu: “……”
The courtyard fell silent.
Fang Xiu was still smiling. “Well, now that we’re all on the subject, let me break the ice.”
“That Mid-Autumn E fiasco made it pretty clear how the Underworld chooses sacrifices. Everyone here, including me, carries at least one life on our conscience. We’ve gone through life-and-death together, so there’s no point keeping secrets or guessing at each other’s pasts.”
“We happen to have some free time today, so how about we all come clean? Let’s share who we got killed.”
The author has something to say:
This arc has come to an end!
Now it’s time for them to collect their rewards and go on a date ☆
Bai Shuangying’s concealment had no effect on Fang Xiu.
In Fang Xiu’s astonished gaze, Bai Shuangying made a light slice with two fingers, his sleeve fluttering like clouds and mist. In that instant, it was as if he had severed heaven and earth. Fang Xiu didn’t understand metaphysical arts, but he could vaguely sense that something connecting this place had been cut off.
It was severed so gently and naturally, like a fallen leaf dropping from its branch.
Li Shuo staggered in place for a couple of steps, the pitch black in his eyes instantly dispersing. He clutched his head and cursed on the spot, spewing a stream of curses. Fang Xiu tried to make sense of his dialect colorful language; it seemed Li Shuo was cursing the Underworld.
“What’s going on?” Fang Xiu hurried over and stopped by Bai Shuangying’s side.
Bai Shuangying spoke frankly. “The Underworld did something to him. If the E took damage while this ghost was still around, it would force him into a frenzy to kill.”
He paused, then added, “However, the spellwork was crude, and its power not strong. Most likely it wasn’t an official order, but a ghost officer acting on its own.”
Fang Xiu clicked his tongue. So Li Shuo was hit with a control spell, and his ghost had rushed in to break it. No wonder Bai Shuangying was the gold-medal support.
It seemed that while Bai Shuangying didn’t understand human nature as well as Fang Xiu, he definitely understood the Underworld better.
Fang Xiu asked, “Why would a ghost officer do something like that?”
“Li Shuo’s obsession isn’t that deep, and he still has reason. Otherwise, by a fierce ghost’s nature, there’s no way he’d just sit back and let you destroy the E.”
Bai Shuangying looked toward Li Shuo, who was still dizzy and disoriented. “When a human becomes a fierce ghost, it’s hard for them to have some towering, earth-shaking obsession. As time passes, that obsession fades, and most fierce ghosts naturally disappear.”
Fang Xiu could understand that. Otherwise, with so many people dead across the ages, the number of ghosts would have skyrocketed.
He thought it over. “The ghost officer sees Li Shuo is almost at the threshold of becoming a ghost immortal, and worries he’ll just let go of his obsession at the final moment, going soft on the match?”
Bai Shuangying nodded.
No wonder, Fang Xiu thought.
Back then, the Underworld hadn’t been so polite to Old Man Fu, even turning a blind eye when Fang Xiu killed him. Compared to Old Man Fu, whose ascension was a long shot, Li Shuo was clearly more valuable.
It wouldn’t be surprising if “raising a ghost immortal” counted toward some ghost officer’s performance review, so one of them pulling a dirty trick wasn’t shocking.
…Once he got out of here, he was definitely going to file a complaint!
“Damn it, I said stop dragging your feet and burn the photo already!” Li Shuo snapped, baring his teeth.
Fang Xiu took the lighter from Guan He and lit it again.
This time, the flames ignited smoothly.
Music vanished. The fireworks went silent.
In front of Fang Xiu, the beautiful night sky peeled away, revealing old, mildewed wallpaper. Where the full moon had been, there was actually a dust-covered ceramic Guanyin.
As the karma struck, Bai Shuangying suddenly flashed behind Fang Xiu, wrapping him fully in his arms. Fang Xiu didn’t have time to think before he was engulfed by the surging torrent of karma.
……
After cutting ties with his family, Li Shuo had been living in Anhe City in Gui Province.
In Anhe City, there was an old residential building, a relic from the last century. Each apartment was barely thirty square meters, and the structure was in terrible shape. The surrounding neighbors mockingly called it the “Hoodlum Building”…
The units were so run-down that nobody would buy them. Only shady types with nowhere else to go still lived there.
Li Shuo owned one of those apartments.
It had originally belonged to his grandmother. The décor was what the old lady had left behind, ugly and broken.
The most eye-catching spot in the living room still had a ceramic Guanyin statue. The statue looked cheap, but the old lady had burned incense and prayed to it every day, filling the unit with smoke.
Li Shuo had turned the place over to a “building manager”; someone who didn’t do contracts or check IDs and rented only to the city’s most down-and-out crowd.
The building manager took sixty percent of the rent as a management fee. Considering how hard the place was to manage, Li Shuo felt that was fair enough.
It was just a bit of cigarette money every month, he thought.
Truth be told, Li Shuo had dropped out after junior high and could only do menial work. He’d move goods in a supermarket and wait tables in a restaurant. He always felt the work was too hard, and within days he’d bail, leading to a quick-fired cycle.
Eventually, Li Shuo took up a job delivering food. Once he earned enough, he’d laze around his rental place streaming short videos and playing games, then when the money ran out, he’d go back to making deliveries.
But he still found life unsatisfying. He wanted more money, somehow.
One day, he set his sights on his tenants.
He planned to swing by his own apartment, pick out some “damage”, and extort a bit of cash. After all, it was his property, so whatever he said would go.
But as soon as Li Shuo opened his door, he chickened out.
Why? Because this tenant looked like a badass. He was well-built and half a head taller than Li Shuo, with a rugged stubble on his chin that made it hard to guess his age.
He was smoking a cigarette, and when he gave Li Shuo a quick once over, Li Shuo’s scheme to squeeze him died on the spot.
“Uh, big bro, this is my place, right? I just came back to grab something,” Li Shuo stammered, laughing stiffly.
Big Bro: “Oh.”
“Big bro, what’s your last name?”
“Lin.”
“Then I’ll call you Lin Ge.”
Li Shuo chuckled, rummaging in the cabinets like he was looking for something. All he found were a few old photos of his grandmother. He hemmed and hawed for a while, saying he missed his grandma and wanted to take a couple of pictures to look at.
To his surprise, Lin Ge wasn’t annoyed. He tapped his cigarette ashes and looked a bit less impatient. “Take them all if you want. Just don’t come bother me unnecessarily.”
With that, he leaned casually by the window, blowing smoke rings out onto the street.
If you wanted to see presence, this was it. Suddenly Li Shuo thought Lin Ge was very cool, obviously the kind of big bro who “knows a lot”.
That big bro must know how to make money.
Li Shuo had never been able to hold down a job for long, whether it was deliveries or other gigs, and he didn’t really have any friends. It was rare to see a potential connection, so why not try to build it?
So he asked, “Big bro, can I add you on WeChat? If anything breaks in the apartment, I can come by and fix it.”
There weren’t many things worth fixing in that place. Lin Ge eyed him, unamused. “No need. I’m just crashing here overnight.”
Li Shuo immediately tried his small-time-hustler’s stubbornness. “Then maybe your phone number? So I can reach you if something comes up.”
Worn down, Lin Ge muttered something like “Mm,” and Li Shuo hastily saved that string of digits, calling Lin Ge’s phone in person. Lin Ge gave the screen a casual glance but didn’t bother saving his number.
Li Shuo didn’t mind. It just made Lin Ge seem even cooler.
After that, Li Shuo sent Lin Ge weekly text messages to keep in touch. All of them vanished without reply, and Li Shuo began to suspect he’d been blocked.
But that Mid-Autumn Festival, he texted again: [Happy Mid-Autumn! I’m broke, no family, no girlfriend. Wanna grab a drink? It’s on me.]
Surprisingly, Lin Ge replied this time: [Sure.]
They met up at a barbecue stall. Nearby, a pedestrian street that had opened just a year ago was launching fireworks in celebration.
Lin Ge wasn’t much of a talker and didn’t like discussing himself. Their meal together was hardly more personal than sharing a table with strangers. Even so, it was rare for Li Shuo to spend Mid-Autumn with anyone, and he got a bit tipsy, lamenting his troubles.
“Life’s not fair,” he mumbled drunkenly. “The easier jobs all… all want at least a junior college diploma. That’s educational discrimination, you know… Hard for an ordinary guy to make a buck…”
Lin Ge responded half-heartedly, focusing on his mutton skewers.
“Big bro, you know any good gigs for quick cash? Hook me up?” Li Shuo waved his beer bottle, finally getting to the point.
“Heh heh, and if it’s a bit shady, that’s fine. I’m ready…”
Lin Ge lifted his head and frowned slightly. “Ready for what?”
“I’ve worked in a KTV. Some jobs there pay super high… But they either want good looks and social skills or people who can keep things in line. I’m neither.”
Li Shuo sighed. “Over there you can earn more than ten thousand a month. In the supermarket I work my butt off and don’t even make five thousand…”
“Man, you know money’s a great thing! With money, all kinds of girls flock to you, and I wouldn’t have to smoke this cheap stuff…”
Lin Ge: “…Money is indeed a great thing.”
Li Shuo sensed something odd about Lin Ge’s tone, but his booze-soaked brain couldn’t figure out exactly what.
He noticed something else: Lin Ge’s shirt pocket was a bit stuffed, and a corner of something, like a photo, peeked out.
Could it be a picture of some woman? Taking advantage of his drunkenness, Li Shuo reached out…
Lin Ge’s face changed slightly, his whole body tensing, but then he relaxed and reached out a hand. “Don’t mess with it. Give it back.”
Li Shuo looked at the photo and blinked in confusion.
It seemed new. The image showed a pedestrian street shining bright with lights, fireworks and a full moon frozen overhead.
At the center were seven or eight young men enjoying a night out, all with radiant smiles, clearly very close friends. There were no women, so not the pretty girl Li Shuo had imagined.
Li Shuo felt a bit disappointed. “What’s this?”
“My friends,” Lin Ge said casually.
Li Shuo: “Carrying your friends’ photo to come out drinking, Big Bro, aren’t you sentimental?”
Lin Ge gave him an exasperated glance and snatched back the photo. “…One of my buddies in the picture died. I’m bringing him out for the holiday.”
Li Shuo: “!” Wow, that was truly cool.
Li Shuo: “So how come you’re not hanging out with the rest of them?”
Lin Ge: “Mind your own business.”
Chastened, Li Shuo shut his mouth. A few minutes later, he began his usual routine: bemoaning his miserable life… From his rotten family relations to his meager bank balance.
But no matter how pitiful he made it sound, Lin Ge never hinted at giving him any kind of “opportunity”, illicit or otherwise.
In the end, Lin Ge only told him to quit texting so much. But he did say they could eat together on Mid-Autumn in the future.
It was the first time they’d ever eaten together. Li Shuo figured that was progress.
……
Li Shuo kept muddling through life. The next year, on Mid-Autumn, they met again for a small gathering.
Lin Ge had upgraded his look a bit. Li Shuo couldn’t understand why Lin Ge, clearly doing well, still had no one else to spend Mid-Autumn with.
Once again, Li Shuo drank and complained as usual. But then, acting mysterious, he said, “Big bro, do you know ‘Er Gui’?”
That was a name he’d heard somewhere, said to be someone in “the business.” Li Shuo figured if he mentioned it, Lin Ge might look at him differently.
Sure enough, Lin Ge’s brow creased. “Where did you hear that?”
“That’s not important,” Li Shuo said, gnawing on a crab leg. “They say working for Er Gui makes you big money, you know?”
“Do you even know what they do?” Lin Ge cut him off.
Li Shuo: “Heh, they’re just dealing that stuff in KTVs, right? I hear you can make money fast with Er Gui.”
Then he tried to gloss it over, “Come on, lots of people in entertainment mess with that. It’s legal in some foreign countries…”
Lin Ge’s facial muscles tightened. For a second, Li Shuo thought he was going to get hit.
But in the end, Lin Ge only glared at him. “Go read the law and figure out how much your life is worth.”
Li Shuo shut his mouth, his overheated brain rapidly cooling. He wanted money, but he was still more afraid of dying.
So he changed the subject. “Heh heh, Big Bro, you brought that photo again, huh…”
That night, Lin Ge ended up saying quite a bit.
He told Li Shuo that he should spend more energy figuring out what he was good at, that it wouldn’t work in the long run if he just tried everything he saw.
Li Shuo let it go in one ear and out the other. He didn’t care about “the long run”, only quick cash.
Even so, he obeyed their agreement: only contacting Lin Ge when necessary. Actually, Lin Ge even sent Li Shuo two texts himself, asking about the hot water heater in the apartment.
So did that mean they were friends? Probably, Li Shuo thought.
……
The third year, on Mid-Autumn, Lin Ge’s clothes were more upscale, while the barbecue stall they picked was more down-to-earth.
Li Shuo, on the other hand, looked extremely slovenly. His hair was a bit tangled, and his face was sallow from poor lifestyle habits. The two of them sitting together made a strange sight.
This time, before Li Shuo could complain, Lin Ge spoke first. “You’re pretty good at fixing things.”
As soon as Li Shuo got to talk about what he was good at, his energy rose. “I fixed toy cars for classmates in junior high, the kind you race. I got two yuan each time!”
He spoke excitedly, eyes bright.
“Try a repair shop,” Lin Ge suggested after a moment. “If you don’t like heavy work, avoid home appliance calls. Maybe try fixing computers or phones. I hear fixing gaming consoles can also be profitable.”
Then, slightly awkward, he added, “I’m no expert, but if you like it, it can’t hurt to try.”
Li Shuo perked up. “Hey, Big Bro, you know what, I love tinkering with that stuff!”
Lin Ge pointed at the fireworks off in the distance. “That electronics store near the pedestrian street is doing good business. I saw they’re hiring a few days back.”
His tone carried a hint of warmth rarely heard from him.
“I’ll check it out tomorrow!” Li Shuo slapped his thigh.
He was dangerously short on money at the moment, and that kind of work didn’t sound too exhausting, so it was perfect.
With a new goal in mind, Li Shuo’s usual complaints subsided, and they had a more normal conversation. Lin Ge still didn’t share much about himself. He only said he did some kind of business and that it was going alright.
“Big Bro, if you’re doing fine, why still crash at that crappy apartment of mine?” Li Shuo was puzzled.
“Anywhere to sleep is the same. Moving around is more trouble.”
Li Shuo didn’t get it. If he had money, he’d definitely rent a big fancy place. But come to think of it, Lin Ge must really consider him a friend now, because he’d even let Li Shuo watch him take out that photo.
Every time Lin Ge looked at the photo, his expression would grow nostalgic.
Li Shuo thought it must be a dear friend in that picture.
He hoped he and Lin Ge could one day be that close.
……
In the fourth year, on Mid-Autumn, Li Shuo dressed cleanly in a stylish hoodie, his hair partially dyed. Meanwhile, Lin Ge’s attire was surprisingly low-key, dark and drab.
As soon as they met, Li Shuo started chattering away.
He genuinely had talent for repairs, learning fast and doing quality work. The electronics store boss was happy to keep him on, and now Li Shuo was increasingly motivated. He’d never quit, not even if someone tried to force him.
He made around seven thousand a month, and his boss even paid for full insurance. He’d rented a small studio near the pedestrian street. It was quiet, clean, with a great view out the window.
That night, Li Shuo had almost no complaints, and he barely drank.
“Big Bro, the store is crazy busy. Someone even posted a video of me online, so now people mail in their gaming consoles for me to fix. The boss says he’ll give me a raise next year.”
Li Shuo was beaming. “And get this, the girl in the bubble tea shop next door smiles at me all the time. Big Bro, do you think she likes me?”
Lin Ge lit a cigarette, listening and smiling.
Li Shuo suddenly realized the guy had a certain presence when he smiled.
Sure enough, Lin Ge was really cool and definitely knew how to make money. Looking back, Li Shuo felt that forcing a connection back then had been a brilliant decision.
After they’d chatted in their usual routine, Lin Ge did something unexpected: he made a request.
Lin Ge: “Xiao Li, can you look after the photo for me? From now on, whenever we meet on Mid-Autumn, just bring it with you.”
Li Shuo: “Huh?”
It was just a photo so it didn’t take up much space. Why would he need someone else to look after it?
Lin Ge, however, explained very naturally that he’d been crazy busy and kept losing track of stuff, and he worried he might misplace it. Also, with Li Shuo in charge of the photo, he’d be forced to show up for Mid-Autumn gatherings, so he wouldn’t “forget his friend once he got rich.”
Li Shuo liked that second part and happily agreed.
Actually, Lin Ge seemed to have some kind of compulsion. Though he showed up every Mid-Autumn, he made it clear each year that Li Shuo must wait for him to text first about meeting up. If no text arrived by Mid-Autumn, that meant he was busy and Li Shuo shouldn’t bother him.
Businesspeople often had quirks, so Li Shuo accepted that.
“What if you never come?” Li Shuo asked naturally.
Lin Ge paused his drag on the cigarette, then smiled. “Then burn the photo.”
“…Huh?”
“It’s actually my friend’s photo. After he died, his family wanted to burn it for him, but I decided to keep it for myself.”
Lin Ge looked at the full moon. “In the end, returning dust to dust, soil to soil… that’s not so bad.”
Li Shuo drew a sharp breath. So it was something belonging to a deceased person. They say businesspeople are superstitious, yet Lin Ge wasn’t bothered by the bad luck?
But then again, if it belonged to a friend, maybe it would bless the living. Li Shuo wasn’t too sure.
Ultimately, Li Shuo took the photo, promising to bring it every Mid-Autumn from then on.
…After all, Lin Ge wasn’t only half a benefactor but a friend.
Year after year, these casual gatherings, helping each other out… If they weren’t bros, what were they?
……
The fifth year, Mid-Autumn Daytime.
Li Shuo was in a fantastic mood. He decided to swing by the “Hoodlum Building” to give Lin Ge a surprise.
He had a lot to tell him, more than they could cover over a single meal…
After working at the electronics store for two years, business was booming. The boss had promoted him to assistant manager, and now he could earn over ten thousand a month.
What’s more, he was dating the girl from the bubble tea shop.
Her name was Juanzi, and she wasn’t very pretty nor curvy. Definitely lightyears away from the beauties in short videos. Now, though, Li Shuo didn’t mind at all. After all, he was short himself and not handsome, so having an honest, steady relationship was great.
Plus, he thought Juanzi’s smile was adorable, better-looking than any influencer’s grin.
But if he wanted to start a family, he needed savings.
Li Shuo had calculated carefully. Quitting smoking saved a couple hundred every month. Cutting back on food and drink and renting a slightly cheaper place gave him a few hundred more. He could put aside over eight thousand a month, nearly a hundred thousand a year!
After three years, he’d have three hundred thousand, enough for a down payment on a place…
Then he could bring Juanzi home to meet his folks. Looking back, he’d been really out of line before. Now that he was doing well, it’d be a good time to mend fences with his family…
In short, he planned to spend Mid-Autumn night on a date with Juanzi, so he couldn’t meet Lin Ge in the evening.
Thus, Li Shuo wanted to shift their gathering to daytime, maybe pick up some dating tips from Lin Ge.
Before heading to the Hoodlum Building, he even bought some nice food and drink, not forgetting the photo.
After all, Lin Ge hadn’t texted him yet about meeting this year, so Li Shuo wasn’t sure he was free. No big deal if he wasn’t. Worst case, Li Shuo would make the trip for nothing. It was his own apartment anyway.
To be honest, he hadn’t been back to the Hoodlum Building in years, and he was a bit curious.
…But the moment Li Shuo reached his door, someone smashed him in the face.
He was instantly dazed, feeling two streams of hot liquid from his nose, and the food in his hands dropped to the ground with a crash.
Next, someone grabbed him and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut.
The floor was covered in blood, and in an instant his clothes had soaked it up, turning heavy and sticky.
…Why was there so much blood on the floor?
Half in a stupor, Li Shuo heard voices speaking above him.
“Who’s this?” asked a rough voice.
“The building manager said he’s some deadbeat who left home years ago, probably no problem,” another answered, stepping on Li Shuo’s back. “…He’s a nobody.”
No, he wasn’t a “nobody,” Li Shuo hazily thought.
He was a person, and he was living a decent life.
He was an assistant store manager, had a cute girlfriend, and made ten thousand a month.
“What now, Er Gui Ge?” asked the voice.
That hoarse voice gave a short laugh. “He showed up himself. What do you think? Kill him.”
Li Shuo couldn’t quite process it, but Er Gui sounded like he was talking about a piece of meat rather than a person.
“Wait,” Er Gui added, “that cop isn’t dead yet. Let him watch us kill this punk and see if he’s still so tough.”
They dragged Li Shuo to the living room. Through the tilted blur of his vision, he saw a man drenched in blood.
He was on the brink of death, blood covering his face. But Li Shuo recognized him: it was Lin Ge.
Lin Ge seemed to recognize him as well. For the first time in five years, Li Shuo saw fear in Lin Ge’s eyes.
A thick stench of blood filled his nostrils. Li Shuo gradually realized…
…Er Gui was a drug dealer.
…And “that cop” was Lin Ge, an undercover narc.
Lin Ge never used WeChat or saved phone numbers; he carried a photo but wouldn’t keep it where he lived.
He turned serious whenever Li Shuo mentioned Er Gui and the drug trade.
He never talked about his family or got in touch with friends. One of his friends had already died in an “accident”…
Li Shuo felt, for the first time in his life, that he was suddenly very smart, even smarter than when he’d tinkered with toy cars in junior high.
He realized what “accident” probably meant. That friend must also have been a narc, just like Lin Ge.
He suddenly understood the terror in Lin Ge’s eyes: half of it was for Li Shuo and half for that photo… for the still-living colleagues in it.
At that moment, Li Shuo wasn’t thinking grandly about justice or morality.
…He only thought that he’d brought the photo into hell, so he had to fix it.
…He couldn’t let his brother’s comrade go down because of him.
Somehow, he found the strength to stagger up and stumble toward the inner room.
This was his grandmother’s apartment, and he’d stayed here often as a kid. He knew how to wedge the door so it wouldn’t open easily.
The window had security bars, so Er Gui’s men weren’t in a hurry; they treated him like a caged animal. As they pounded on the door, Li Shuo dug out the photo.
It was soaked in blood, stained with a dark red patch.
Li Shuo stumbled to the windowsill, finding a familiar gap in the bricks. The old place was full of gaps, and this one was his secret stash. As a child, he’d hidden pocket money here to keep his parents from taking it.
He managed a slight smile and shoved the photo inside. The gap was deep, and the darkness swallowed it whole.
He was careful not to smear any blood near the gap.
The photo was safe, he thought; nobody would ever find it.
With a dull thud, someone kicked the door open.
A foot stomped him to the floor and dragged him back into the living room, the attacker growling curses that basically meant “Don’t bother yelling for help. This is the Hoodlum Building, nobody here cares.”
Li Shuo tuned him out, glancing sideways at the young goon hauling him.
That goon was under thirty, about his age. The way he spewed insults looked exactly like another version of himself.
Despite the agony, Li Shuo almost wanted to laugh. If he hadn’t met Lin Ge, maybe he’d be standing there, doing the killing.
Money really was a great thing, Li Shuo thought.
If you can command “ghosts” with money, you first have to make them into ghosts.
They dragged Li Shuo back to the living room.
Lin Ge was still breathing raggedly, his eyes filled with despair as he stared at Li Shuo, as if wanting to push him away from danger by sight alone.
Li Shuo licked the blood on his lips. Suddenly it hit him. Lin Ge probably wasn’t really named Lin. He might never learn the man’s real name.
Big Bro, it’s pointless, he thought.
“Big Bro, it’s alright,” he said.
…This wasn’t your fault. It’s just my own awful luck; don’t blame yourself.
…I don’t want to die. I’m not resigned to this. I hate it. But I know who I should hate.
Li Shuo rolled his eyes upward, fixing a ferocious stare on Er Gui as he watched the gruesome spectacle.
He no longer remembered exactly when he died or when Lin Ge died.
He only knew that Er Gui’s men didn’t finish them off quickly. Blood was everywhere, his eyes were veiled in red, and the pain twisted his memory beyond all recognition.
He only remembered the final glance he cast on the world…
Night fell darker and darker; the pain drifted further and further away. In the blood pooling around him, Li Shuo saw the reflection of his grandmother’s ceramic Bodhisattva.
After all these years, Lin Ge still hadn’t taken it.
In the cold blood, Li Shuo couldn’t close his eyes.
Li Shuo didn’t know that in the moment he breathed his last, Lin Ge struggled to move a finger. He stared in agony at the dying young man, eyes shot with blood.
He noticed Li Shuo’s clothing was slightly disarrayed, as though someone had searched him. He saw the change in Li Shuo’s expression, and guessed Li Shuo had deliberately run into the inner room to hide something.
Once, a friend of his had died protecting innocent people.
Now, another friend had died protecting innocent people.
That had been his job. He should have carried on his friend’s cause, keeping his colleagues and the public safe.
Maybe it was all beyond repair now, and he couldn’t do anything anymore, but…
[Those who should be protected are the innocent.]
Deep in the gap of the bricks, a swirl of yin energy began to gather. It spun faster and faster, forming an invisible storm. The temperature plummeted. Within that darkness, any lurking evil spirit was wiped out on the spot.
On the bloodstained photo, one evil spirit after another appeared, while the faces of the people gradually vanished, leaving only the backs of their heads.
An object with an obsession, collecting karma, becomes an “E”.
In the vortex entangling countless threads of karma, the photo bore the same resolve. Once again it became a keepsake, devouring that obsession and mechanically converting it into three taboos:
Evil spirits carry a blood debt and aren’t allowed to leave.
At three quarters before noon, one life must be paid.
…Remember, there are prying eyes; no showing your face.
……
Fang Xiu opened his eyes to find himself wrapped tightly in Bai Shuangying’s arms. The remnants of the photo were still burning, drifting lightly through the air.
Flames licked at the laughing faces, turning them to ash.
…He felt a weight in his hand. It was the demon-revealing mirror.
Fang Xiu quickly turned his head. They were in a thirty-square-meter run-down apartment, and everyone was there.
Li Shuo was there, and so was Lao Jin, who had just taken his last breath. Li Shuo’s face was expressionless, his eyes sweeping over that dusty Bodhisattva statue.
Beside him, Lin Ge’s apparition had vanished.
The last few wisps of ash fell at his feet, like a period marking the end.
Something felt off, Fang Xiu thought. The E had been completely destroyed, but the paper figure hadn’t shown up, and the “immunity to evil” effect hadn’t kicked in.
Li Shuo lowered his head to look at the bit of ash, then laughed. “So, now you know what happened.”
Fang Xiu, Bai Shuangying: “Yes.”
Fang Xiu: “?”
Bai Shuangying had pressed so close because he wanted a firsthand look at the photo’s cause-and-effect?
Either way, Fang Xiu didn’t dwell on it for now. He kept his attention on Li Shuo. “So can you tell us your obsession now?”
Li Shuo lowered his gaze and took out an unlit cigarette. Without the E’s power, his figure was far less solid than before.
“I’m just not reconciled,” he said. “I died before I’d really lived. I wanted to see them get what they deserved.”
“But after sacrificing so many people during the festival, I stopped caring that much. You kill enough people, and it just feels the same…”
Silence fell over the room.
Guan He and the others didn’t know the story behind the E, but they could sense the sorrow on Li Shuo’s face.
“…Later I just thought, I hid that photo so carefully, and nobody knew Big Bro had left one. I hoped someone would find it someday and bring it to his family.”
He gave a self-mocking laugh.
“That was my last little wish, but telling you is pointless. You can’t leave this place without destroying the photo, so it’s a dead end.”
Fang Xiu was quiet for a while. “Do you know why I brought up ‘Er Gui’ to you?”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you had a grudge against him. After your deaths, the case was huge news, reported everywhere, handled with extra severity. Er Gui’s gang was executed by firing squad, and all their upstream and downstream partners were arrested.”
“It’s just a pity there wasn’t enough evidence to deal with Boss Jin. He lay low abroad for two years back then.”
Hearing that, Cheng Songyun exclaimed, “I remember that news story.”
Li Shuo watched Fang Xiu intently. “And then?”
Fang Xiu: “After that, Lin Ge’s photo was publicly commemorated in an official report… Actually, you didn’t have to wait. He had no ‘family’ who could take that photo.”
Otherwise, the official media wouldn’t have displayed it openly.
“…Also, his last name really was Lin.”
Li Shuo was silent a long time. At last, he chuckled. “Makes sense. No wonder he only ever brought that group photo on Mid-Autumn.”
Then he grabbed the bloody mess that was Lao Jin and dragged him to the dried bloodstain in the center of the floor.
With a snap of his fingers, the new corpse of mangled flesh burst into flames.
Though Lao Jin’s body was covered in blood, the fire burned slowly, refusing to die out.
Finally, Li Shuo took the unlit cigarette, touching it to the flame. Blue smoke rose in curling wisps, just like old times.
“Lin Ge, share one with me.”
He stood the cigarette upright, placing it in the incense burner before the ceramic Bodhisattva.
Guan He felt sad watching. In a soft voice, he said, “I remember that article now. Everyone called Lin Ge a saint…”
Li Shuo didn’t look back. “Bullshit. If he were that heartless, he wouldn’t have kept the photo or worried about my life. If he’d done it that way, then maybe you could call him unfeeling and transcendent.”
“Sometimes I think he was exhausted, holed up on his own, chain-smoking… There aren’t that many saints in the world. Lin Ge was just an ordinary guy.”
Fang Xiu: “But really cool.”
Li Shuo burst out laughing. “Yeah, Lin Ge was really cool.”
He laughed for a long time, long enough for Lao Jin’s last sounds to vanish and that cigarette to burn down to its butt.
“So I’ve been dead four or five years, huh.”
“Juanzi probably got married to someone else, and the store must have a new assistant manager by now. It’s good that I never patched things up with my family. This way, they won’t be too upset about my death… when I think of it that way, I guess there’s nothing left tying me here.”
Li Shuo glanced at the nearly finished cigarette, then turned to Fang Xiu.
“In the end, you still got me to move on.”
Leaning back against Bai Shuangying, Fang Xiu waved a hand at Li Shuo as though seeing off a friend in a routine farewell.
He looked oddly calm, and for an instant Li Shuo thought he saw a hint of envy in Fang Xiu’s eyes.
What a strange person.
Li Shuo shook his head, smiling, then turned back to the incense burner.
The ember on the cigarette in the incense burner dimmed, about to go out.
Li Shuo stood at the place where he had died, folding his hands as he remembered his grandma lighting incense. He slowly closed his eyes.
“Homage to the greatly compassionate and merciful Guanyin Bodhisattva…”
Yin energy dissolved, caught in a swirl of wind. The young man’s figure vanished like mist.
All that remained on the dark bloodstain was Lao Jin’s scorched corpse.
With Lao Jin’s death, the demon-revealing mirror trembled and released Huang Mao and Jia Xu, both looking dazed. The space shifted abruptly, and they started yelling in confusion.
Fang Xiu didn’t bother explaining. He walked toward the incense burner where the smoke was still dispersing and took out Lao Jin’s golden Bodhisattva statue.
With a quiet clink, he dropped it onto the empty offering plate, then bowed to the ceramic figure.
“Hey bud, since you’re not taking living souls, I shouldn’t waste this,” Fang Xiu muttered. “I’m feeding Lao Jin to my ghost. I hope that’s okay.”
Then he turned, about to call Bai Shuangying, only to see Bai Shuangying frown sharply and hide himself on the spot.
Fang Xiu: “……?”
What, was he so picky now that he wouldn’t even eat?
He didn’t have time to speak before a sudden gust blew behind him, sending a chill up his neck. Instantly, Fang Xiu sensed something was off.
“So you’re the one who broke the ‘Mid-Autumn E’?” came a cold, rasping female voice.
It came from behind him. The speaker was clearly a woman, yet her stature seemed taller than his. A bloodstained wedding robe fluttered into Fang Xiu’s peripheral vision.
Goosebumps prickled all over him; he didn’t turn around immediately.
This time the Underworld hadn’t sent the paper figure; the aura of this newcomer was worlds apart.
“Yes, I broke it. So what?” Fang Xiu steadied his breathing.
The woman’s voice went quiet for a few seconds. “Good.”
“Sorry about this. Someone on our side cheated. As their superior, I’m here personally to apologize.”
She spoke decisively. “As for your compensation, the Underworld side…”
Fang Xiu: “?” That woke him right up.
He spun around like a spinning top, voice brimming with vigor. “Hold on. Since when does only the guilty party get to call the shots on compensation?”
“Come on, let’s have a good talk—!”
The author has something to say:
Actually, it was enough content for two chapters, but since there wasn’t a good place to split, I went ahead and wrote it all at once… Praise me!!!
Also, the edits I’ve made these past couple of days are just slight adjustments to some dialogue wording to make it easier to understand, without touching the plot _(:з」∠)_
By this calculation, the pedestrian street has been standing for exactly nine years, and Li Shuo has participated in five rituals (including the Mid-Autumn Festival when he died). Five rituals in total, catching up to Old Man Fu ten years of dedicated training, truly a top student.
————————————
By the way, let me just say this outright: if someone in our country is pushing for marijuana legalization, they’re either ignorant or malicious, or both. If there’s someone like that around you, it’s best to keep your distance.
Kinky Translations 