Chapter 196: A Mountain Suspended, A River Submerged (10)
Because of the argument that lasted late into the night, Lu Xingxing was still fuming even while taking a shower.
But, there was nothing he could do about it—he had claimed that the river was free of impurities, only to see chrysanthemum petals drifting by, literally hitting him in the face.
If he kept arguing, it would only make him look worse.
Lu Xingxing understood the logic behind it, but he couldn’t swallow his frustration.
The sound of water flowing in the bathroom echoed loudly. For a moment, all he could hear was the sound of the water, a pure and rhythmic white noise that helped him relax. He softened under the showerhead, letting the cold wind chill his already frozen body before the hot water warmed him again.
But just as he let his mind wander, trying to focus on his previous thoughts, he suddenly felt lost.
What was I…. thinking just now?
The wind blew through the slightly ajar window, and the cold gust made Lu Xingxing shiver. His mind suddenly cleared for a brief moment.
He smelled something strange.
A damp, musty odor, as if a corpse had been submerged under the water for a long time. The wind carried the smell of decaying flesh and moisture toward him, and Lu Xingxing caught the eerie scent.
He couldn’t focus on his bath anymore. He hurried over to the window to figure out where the smell was coming from.
In his rush, he almost slipped on the wet floor several times and ended up stumbling into the window.
When he steadied himself and looked up, he was suddenly face-to-face with a pair of blood-red eyes.
Startled, Lu Xingxing nearly felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest, and for a moment, he thought he was going to fall into the cold river.
The bathroom was on the first floor, and the window faced the river.
Through the gap in the window, Lu Xingxing saw the owner of the red eyes standing calmly in the middle of the river, gazing up at the cottage.
It was a human corpse.
Even though it had been submerged in the water so long that the entire body had swollen, making it look like a 400-pound fat person, its features were like peeling wallpaper, with skin falling off, making it impossible to recognize its original appearance.
But from the limbs and shape, it was clear that it had once been human.
At the moment their eyes met, it seemed to sense Lu Xingxing’s fear. It stiffly and slowly lifted its foot and began to walk toward the cottage, dragging its body from the river.
The cold wind blowing through the window made Lu Xingxing’s teeth chatter. Goosebumps erupted along his bare back and arms, and his skin, which had been warmed by the hot water, grew cold again. The blue veins beneath his skin became more pronounced.
He wanted to do something. His instincts screamed at him that he needed to protect everyone.
Upon seeing such a grotesque, disgusting corpse, his first thought was that it had come back to life. Then he realized that he should stop it from coming any closer to the small building.
If nothing else, he needed to tell Yan Shixun.
But he was frozen, like a statue, standing behind the window, unable to do anything except watch as the corpse crawled ashore.
Water dripped from the creature’s body, leaving a long trail on the riverbank.
It then awkwardly reached out its swollen, pale hand and grabbed the wooden railing, like a broken toy. It lifted its leg over its head and clumsily and strangely climbed over the railing, appearing outside the bathroom window.
From across the window, in the dim yellow light, Lu Xingxing could almost make out every line of the creature’s skin.
The skin that should have had natural texture was now blurred from soaking in the water, and it had lost its firmness. It had become saggy, separating from the underlying muscles, like tofu, losing its elasticity, and it was impossible to tell how long it had been dead.
Being submerged in water for so long had caused its skin to rot and swell. It looked as though if someone pressed on it, the skin would sink in completely.
At such close range, Lu Xingxing could see the malicious, lifeless eyes, blood-red like a demon crawling out of hell, searching for a victim.
He wanted to reach out to stop it, but his hands and feet wouldn’t obey him. All he could do was watch as the creature extended its swollen, pale arm and pushed open the bathroom window.
“Creeeeak… bang—”
Along with the cold wind, that thing came in.
It clumsily and slowly crossed the window, brushing past Lu Xingxing as it moved inward.
Lu Xingxing was nearly nauseated by the putrid smell filling the bathroom. The stench of long-decayed rot mixed with the stale air from behind the supermarket counter hit him like a tidal wave, making him dizzy.
But it was precisely because of this overwhelming stimulus that he briefly regained control of his body. He immediately turned and ran toward the source of the smell, instinctively reaching into his robe to grab his talismans.
But Lu Xingxing’s hand found nothing.
What he felt instead was cold, stiff skin, with goosebumps rising all over his fingers, each one bumpy and uneven under his touch.
That was when he remembered—right, he was taking a bath, of course he wouldn’t have those things with him.
In the few seconds of distraction, the thing had already pushed open the bathroom door and entered the cottage.
With a loud “bang!” the bathroom door slammed shut. Lu Xingxing was left throwing himself against it.
He shivered, trying desperately to turn the lock with his stiff fingers, but in the cold, his fingers had nearly lost all feeling and refused to obey his brain’s commands.
Panicked, he threw his body against the door, trying to force it open so he could chase after the thing.
But the more anxious he became, the more mistakes he made. What would have been a simple door-opening movement in normal circumstances now felt impossibly difficult.
It was Zhao Zhen who heard the commotion from the bathroom and curiously walked over. “Lu Xingxing, are you done with your shower? If you’re done, come out and stop playing with the door.”
Zhao Zhen had started to get used to his role as a kindergarten teacher. Dealing with someone like Lu Xingxing, who was an adult but acted like a child, didn’t make him angry anymore. Instead, he found himself filled with patience and helplessness, even trying to teach him not to play with water.
Zhao Zhen, who had been sitting on the sofa waiting in the living room, suddenly noticed a strange smell wafting past his nose as he approached the bathroom. It smelled like rotting fish and shrimp, mixed with a damp, musty scent.
He was puzzled, wondering why there would be such a smell in the small building.
At first, he didn’t think much of it.
But then…
“Drip, drip.”
The sound of water droplets hitting the floor echoed.
Instinctively, Zhao Zhen followed the sound, only to see a trail of water stains on the floor, appearing right at his feet.
It was as though… someone had walked by, brushing against him.
But the living room was empty, not a soul in sight.
Zhao Zhen froze in place, half-turned, his suspicious gaze sweeping over the entire living room. After a while, he looked away and walked back toward the bathroom.
The thin bathroom door was still being knocked on repeatedly, “Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Zhao Zhen sighed. “You didn’t lock yourself in, did you?”
He spread his hands. “I can’t open the door from the outside. Xingxing, try turning the lock. Turn it clockwise. Come on, follow my lead…”
Although Zhao Zhen couldn’t help open the door for Lu Xingxing, his calm voice helped soothe the latter’s earlier panic.
Lu Xingxing slapped his face hard, trying to calm himself down and focus on the lock.
This time, it was opened quickly.
Hearing the door open, Zhao Zhen had expected to see a fully dressed Lu Xingxing.
But as soon as the door cracked open, Zhao Zhen caught a glimpse of skin shining in the dim light.
Zhao Zhen: “!!!”
Xingxing, you little rascal! Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?! I’m still live-streaming!
Realizing what had happened, Zhao Zhen reacted quickly, immediately turning his back to Lu Xingxing and covering the camera mounted on his shoulder.
Viewers: [???]
Zhao Zhen’s movements were so fast that the audience didn’t get a clear view of anything before the camera was covered.
Even those with sharp eyes only caught a blurry mix of colors.
“Xingxing!” Zhao Zhen exclaimed, both angry and exasperated.
Lu Xingxing, puzzled, looked at Zhao Zhen, who had turned his back, his ears reddening. He didn’t know what had happened.
However, while curious about what was going on with Zhao Zhen, there was something more important on his mind.
—The moment the bathroom door finally opened, Lu Xingxing saw that thing’s figure flash by in the living room.
Without thinking about Zhao Zhen, Lu Xingxing immediately rushed out, intending to follow the thing and see what it was going to do.
Though he didn’t know what the thing was, Lu Xingxing instinctively sensed the aura of death surrounding it. He knew that whatever it was, it was certainly no good, and he couldn’t let it enter the cottage where it might harm others!
Without even bothering to put on slippers, Lu Xingxing dashed past Zhao Zhen and headed straight for the place where he had last seen the thing.
Zhao Zhen had assumed that by turning his back, Lu Xingxing would have time to put on clothes.
But to his surprise, the guy actually ran out naked!
Seeing Lu Xingxing’s wet skin gleaming in the light, Zhao Zhen was so stunned that his mouth hung open, completely dumbfounded.
But he quickly snapped back to reality as he saw Lu Xingxing about to rush into the living room. He hurriedly chased after him, shouting, “Lu Xingxing, stop! Don’t run any further!”
Ahead was the main screen of the live stream!
Zhao Zhen felt both relief and anxiety at the same time and almost cursed under his breath.
Luckily, he had immediately covered the split-screen earlier.
But unfortunately, the main screen was still on, and if he couldn’t grab Lu Xingxing in time, the entire audience would witness Lu Xingxing running naked across the screen.
In that moment, Zhao Zhen already pictured in his mind all sorts of rumors that would spread about Lu Xingxing, with millions of people watching…
He could already foresee a grim future.
Zhao Zhen felt his vision go dark and immediately quickened his pace, running with all his might. He collided with a cabinet but didn’t care, stretching his fingers forward as far as they could reach.
Finally, before Lu Xingxing could run into the main screen’s filming area, Zhao Zhen grabbed his arm and forcibly pulled him back.
With one hand, he lifted the split-screen to turn it off, while with the other hand, he yanked off his jacket and urgently wrapped it around Lu Xingxing.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Zhao Zhen gritted his teeth. “If you had taken another step, you would have been on the main screen! Do you want millions of viewers to see you like this?”
Lu Xingxing didn’t respond immediately, just staring blankly at the empty living room in front of him.
He had been running right behind that thing, but strangely, in the blink of an eye, it had disappeared.
But the surrounding low tables and cabinets didn’t have any hiding places.
Where could it have gone?
Lu Xingxing felt a coldness spread from the soles of his feet, freezing his heart.
What was more terrifying than seeing a bug?
—It was knowing the bug was here, but you couldn’t see it anymore.
You didn’t know where it had hidden.
It could be in the wardrobe, under the bed, behind every cabinet door… in every overlooked crack, its red eyes silently watching, scanning the fresh, living flesh of the people, waiting for the darkness to completely cover the room. Only then would it leave its hiding place and attack.
Lu Xingxing trembled all over, his mind set on one thing—finding Yan Shixun, he had to tell him!
But Zhao Zhen’s grip on his wrist brought him back to reality. The coldness in his wrist was replaced by the warmth of Zhao Zhen’s hand, and his blurry vision suddenly refocused. He saw Zhao Zhen’s furious face.
Lu Xingxing: “?”
But just this small distraction caused the clear memory to begin fading once again.
He hurriedly grabbed Zhao Zhen’s sleeve, speaking quickly, trying to tell him everything that was on his mind: “Don’t go to the bathroom! There’s something in there, there’s…”
What was it again?
Like spring snow melting as soon as the sun came out, the ice that had been on the tree branches suddenly turned into water and evaporated under the sunlight, completely disappearing.
Before he could finish his sentence, Lu Xingxing felt the clear memory he had been holding onto slip away.
Grabbing Zhao Zhen’s sleeve, he stood there, lost, like a child unable to find their way home.
Zhao Zhen had originally thought something serious had happened when he saw Lu Xingxing’s expression, so he took on a serious tone, preparing to listen to what he had to say.
However, Lu Xingxing only spoke halfway and then fell into a daze.
Zhao Zhen: “…?”
He waited patiently for a long time but didn’t hear the next part from Lu Xingxing, which made him frustrated and almost laugh.
“Xingxing, are you trying to make me laugh?”
Zhao Zhen’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He lifted his hand and roughly adjusted Lu Xingxing’s jacket, “You’re not wearing clothes or shoes. What are you doing? If you want to joke around, at least put your clothes on first. Or do you want to make it more realistic?”
Hearing Zhao Zhen’s words, Lu Xingxing looked down, following his gaze.
“Shit?! Where’s my clothes?”
Lu Xingxing quickly wrapped himself up tighter in the jacket and glared at Zhao Zhen suspiciously. “Pervert!”
He looked like a wet cat shaking off water.
Zhao Zhen: “…”
He sighed helplessly, feeling the veins on his forehead threatening to burst.
At that moment, the door to the nearby room opened.
“What’s going on? Why are you shouting in front of my door?”
Yan Shixun frowned, clearly displeased, as he looked outside.
Then, he locked eyes with the bare-legged Lu Xingxing.
Yan Shixun: “…………?”
He silently scanned Lu Xingxing from head to toe, his mouth twitching. “So, you have this kind of hobby?”
“I didn’t! I didn’t do anything! Stop making up nonsense!”
Lu Xingxing reflexively protested vehemently.
He was about to say something else when he saw a tall figure appear behind Yan Shixun, his long, narrow eyes coldly staring at him.
Lu Xingxing immediately shrank back, silently squeezing himself behind Zhao Zhen.
Ye Li, with a look of disdain, raised his hand and half-heartedly blocked Yan Shixun’s gaze. “Don’t look, there’s something filthy. It’s bad for your eyes.”
Lu Xingxing: !!! Are you talking about me? I’m not! I… QAQ forget it, I can’t win.
Yan Shixun raised his hand and gently removed Ye Li’s palm, though he was not happy that his conversation with Ye Li had been interrupted by Lu Xingxing.
But when he saw Lu Xingxing’s pitiful appearance and how even his rebellious face seemed a bit vulnerable with his eyes lowered, Yan Shixun couldn’t help but find it a little amusing.
His lips twitched before he straightened his expression, raised his chin slightly, and asked, “What’s up with this outfit?”
When asked that, a sudden flash of realization crossed Lu Xingxing’s mind.
“Brother Yan, don’t go to the bathroom! There’s something in the bathroom!”
Lu Xingxing urgently said, “Trust me!”
Yan Shixun looked at him in confusion, then turned his gaze to Zhao Zhen, silently asking what was going on.
“I don’t know either.”
Zhao Zhen sighed helplessly. “When I heard the noise and came over, Xingxing wanted to rush out and kept saying the bathroom was dangerous.”
“Lu Xingxing, what’s in the bathroom?”
Yan Shixun, knowing Lu Xingxing wasn’t exactly the careful type, found it strange that he seemed concerned.
If even Lu Xingxing thought something was wrong…
But Lu Xingxing just looked back blankly. “I forgot.”
He looked like a child who had just found their parents, a bit aggrieved. “I remember it, but for some reason, I just forgot.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, even Lu Xingxing, who was usually carefree, realized something felt off.
Why did it sound like he was just making excuses? Saying there was something, then suddenly saying he forgot? Even elementary school kids wouldn’t make such excuses.
It’s over, Yan Shixun probably won’t believe him now.
Lu Xingxing sighed inwardly.
Forgot… just like me.
Yan Shixun’s eyes darkened, and instead of thinking what Lu Xingxing assumed, he took it seriously.
“In that case, we’ll avoid the bathroom for now.”
Yan Shixun frowned and said to Zhao Zhen, “We’re leaving tomorrow morning anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Let the others make do for now.”
Zhao Zhen, though confused, trusted Yan Shixun enough to agree immediately.
Lu Xingxing, feeling cold and unable to stand it anymore, felt a huge sense of relief after telling Yan Shixun about the bathroom, and happily ran to his room to get dressed.
Although he had forgotten what had happened in the bathroom, there was one thing he clearly remembered—helpless despair.
When showering, he couldn’t carry anything that could protect him, and that feeling of being completely unprotected… Lu Xingxing hated that feeling.
Zhao Zhen went upstairs to inform the staff and others who hadn’t used the bathroom yet about Yan Shixun’s decision.
However, when he knocked on one of the staff’s room doors, Zhao Zhen, who had been relaxed, suddenly froze when he met a pair of red eyes.
He jumped in fright and took a few steps back.
Then he realized that the person was just a staff member.
But the person was panting heavily and scratching themselves, looking like they were in some kind of discomfort.
After hearing what Zhao Zhen had to say, the staff member slammed the door shut with a loud “bang!”
If Zhao Zhen hadn’t stepped back quickly, he would have almost been hit in the nose.
He felt a little puzzled—had the staff member been too tired from work during the day? Their temper was strange. Normally, the program crew was pretty easy-going.
With that thought in mind, Zhao Zhen walked downstairs, still feeling curious.
But after a few steps, he suddenly smelled blood, and his mind replayed the image he had seen when the staff member opened the door.
It seemed that someone was lying on the bed, and someone else was hunched over in a chair.
The room was dimly lit, so at first, Zhao Zhen didn’t realize the situation. But as he reflected on it, he realized something was off.
Why were those people completely still?
Although it was already dark, it was still relatively early, and the filming had not yet finished. How could the staff have gone to bed already?
With this thought, Zhao Zhen, who had been heading downstairs, stopped and turned back to knock on the door again.
When the door opened, the staff member appeared even more agitated than before. His eyes were bloodshot, as if they were about to bleed, and his throat emitted a raspy, wheezing sound. He was scratching himself constantly, and his exposed neck was covered in blood from where he had scratched.
The worst part was his neck, where, along the area of his esophagus, the blood streaks resembled buds waiting to bloom.
Zhao Zhen wasn’t sure if it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but for a moment, he thought the blood streaks seemed to move, as if they had some kind of life to them.
But when he looked more closely, they were still.
A strange sense of unease washed over Zhao Zhen.
“What do you want?”
The staff member’s voice was hoarse and harsh, as if he hadn’t used his vocal cords in hundreds of years. His words sounded as if they had been dragged over sandpaper, accompanied by an impatient expression. “If there’s nothing, then get lost.”
As he said this, the staff member tried to slam the door shut again.
Zhao Zhen, initially shocked by the staff member’s attitude, quickly realized that the current state of the person in front of him was far from normal. No matter how bad someone’s temper was, they wouldn’t speak like that in front of a colleague.
Zhao Zhen swiftly grabbed the door and stopped it from closing, pushing his way into the room. “Let me see the others in the room.”
If this person was truly troubled, the others in the room might be in danger as well.
The staff member’s bloodshot eyes glared coldly at Zhao Zhen. Then, he opened his mouth, his hands still clawing at his skin as he spoke.
“I’m thirsty. Really thirsty.”
His voice was rough as he asked, “Do you have any water?”
As he spoke, his gaze landed on Zhao Zhen, as though he had found the water he needed. A grotesque grin spread across his face. “Blood water will do too.”
Zhao Zhen’s heart skipped a beat as he realized the man was no longer mentally disturbed; something evil was at work here!
He immediately pulled back from the door and turned to run downstairs. “Brother Yan!”
But the staff member moved faster than humanly possible, charging at Zhao Zhen’s back with incredible speed.
His sharp nails were getting closer and closer to Zhao Zhen’s back, almost touching…
“Bang!”
The lightbulb suddenly flickered, followed by a loud crash.
The entire building was plunged into darkness.
….
After watching Lu Xingxing leave, Yan Shixun closed the door and turned to face Ye Li.
Ye Li’s face was filled with amusement. “It got interrupted.”
Yan Shixun recalled the earlier scene and agreed that Lu Xingxing had arrived at the wrong time. He couldn’t help but scowl, clearly displeased.
Since Ye Li’s mood had been off since they entered the mountains, Yan Shixun had grown suspicious that there was something wrong with Longevity Village. He had asked Ye Li if he knew anything about it.
Yan Shixun had been prepared for Ye Li not to tell him anything, especially since ghosts and deities were inherently different from humans. Ye Li might very well be the last remaining ghost deity, and getting a clear answer from one was almost like trying to peer into the mysteries of the universe.
But just as Yan Shixun was planning how to get Ye Li to speak or if he should investigate the village himself, Ye Li stared at him for a long while before sighing.
When a ghost deity sighed, the world seemed to fall silent.
At that moment, it felt as if the entire valley had lost its sound, with the chirping of insects and birds vanishing and the wind ceasing to blow.
Ye Li lifted his lashes, revealing a cold, ruthless look in his eyes that lacked even a hint of warmth.
“I gave the southern region a chance.”
Ye Li’s voice was deep, and though he had a gentleness that only appeared when speaking to Yan Shixun, there was no warmth when he spoke of the past.
“Shixun, even a ghost deity doesn’t lose hope in the human world from the very beginning.”
Ye Li gazed at Yan Shixun, each word heavy and deliberate. “I once walked the human world, trying to find a reason to continue supporting it, but what the world showed me was nothing but bloodshed.”
“Over a decade ago, I came to the southern region.”
Li Chengyun had traveled all over the world, taking Yan Shixun with him on journeys through the lands north and south.
Ye Li had done the same.
A deity stepped down from his high altar, dressed in rough cloth and a straw hat, appearing as an ordinary human. He walked through the suffering and joy of humanity, observing the world coldly, searching for a reason to continue supporting the cycles of heaven and earth.
But what he saw was nothing but sin and greed.
Every time the gods extended a hand, they only ever gripped the resentment of innocent lives lost.
The god who ruled over Fengdu grew furious.
That year was known by the Taoists as “Ghost Year.”
Wherever the god appeared, every soul was dragged to Fengdu for judgment. The innocent were returned to life; the guilty met death.
And so, that year, entire villages perished, one after another. Panic spread among the people, yet no one could find the cause.
In one such village, the elderly Grandma Nan stepped forward. She sneered coldly, pointing at the villagers as she said, “The girls you murdered in the past, the travelers you killed and offered in sacrifice, all the evil deeds you’ve done—your retribution has finally arrived. The gods have opened their eyes!”
The villagers were shocked. Regret overwhelmed them, and they wailed, begging for forgiveness.
But the god, standing silently in the shadow beneath a tree, had witnessed everything. He had seen through every soul, down to the sins hidden in their deepest depths.
Through the gaps in his straw hat, Ye Li saw their faces twisted with regret, many nearly fainting from their cries—but he remained unmoved.
He knew clearly that these people weren’t sorry for what they had done. They only regretted being caught.
That year, countless people in the southern regions died.
And Ye Li, filled with bitter disappointment, simply turned and walked away.
It was after that incident that Ye Li looked up at the clear sky and thought about the souls nearly consumed by the black mist of their sins. A sudden wave of bitter irony welled up inside him.
The world he once wanted to protect—the one he had gritted his teeth to defend on the battlefield until the last moment—had changed.
And the mortal world…
The mortal world was beyond saving.
The god turned and returned to his high divine platform. Coldly, he looked down on the howling souls below, no longer moved, becoming a silent statue—no longer answering, no longer caring.
The central gates of Fengdu remained tightly shut.
He was the last god standing after the collapse of the Great Dao, and yet he refused to save the world.
Ye Li slowly blinked, pulling himself out of the memories of the past. In a deep voice, he said, “They are not worth saving. Even Fengdu will not grant them a place. They will wander endlessly, until they fade to nothing.”
“Corpses sank into the river, blood floated to the surface—over a decade ago, the southern regions were hell on earth.”
Ye Li let out a cold laugh, filled with bitter mockery. “How dare they still have the face to come begging before me.”
Yan Shixun had not expected Ye Li to answer him at all, let alone with such words.
He remained silent for a moment before finally asking, “Back then… what exactly happened?”
Even though Ye Li had said that it all happened before he met Yan Shixun, and that his own mindset had already changed since then—making the past not worth mentioning—Yan Shixun still insisted on knowing.
To Yan Shixun, since it had happened over ten years ago, it naturally took place before their meeting.
But Ye Li knew exactly what he meant—it had happened before he met the young Yan Shixun at the marketplace.
Back then, the god, disheartened and numb, had closed his eyes. Dressed in bloodied battle armor, he sat quietly at the edge of the market, trying to find one last reason to give up completely.
But unexpectedly, in the depths of his despair, the god encountered his treasure.
A piece of candy, from the mortal world.
Ye Li looked at Yan Shixun with softened eyes, no longer cold.
Like sugar slowly melting under high heat, spreading into sweetness that etched itself deep into memory.
Under Yan Shixun’s gaze, Ye Li smiled and began to speak, completely unguarded, ready to recount the past.
To him, the things that happened before he met Yan Shixun were no longer worth bringing up—but if the exorcist he cherished wanted to know, he would not hold back.
But just then, Lu Xingxing shouted loudly outside the door, interrupting their conversation.
By the time Yan Shixun finally got rid of Lu Xingxing and returned to the room, he found himself face-to-face with Ye Li’s serious gaze. Suddenly, he felt that the relaxed atmosphere from earlier had vanished.
Even though he wanted to bring up the topic again, something about it now felt awkward.
—Especially when Ye Li showed him this unreserved openness, the kind that seemed to exist only for him, allowing him to take as much as he wanted without hesitation.
Unconsciously, Yan Shixun recalled what Lan Ze had once said to him.
Past memories took root in his heart, planted like a seed.
Even though he hadn’t paid it much mind at the time, every interaction and conversation with Ye Li — even Ye Li’s every smile and glance — had quietly become nourishment, like gentle rain soaking into the earth, subtly feeding that seed in his heart.
Yan Shixun couldn’t help but start to wonder — could it be… that Lan Ze had been right?
But he considered himself no more than an ordinary person, no different from the countless others struggling to survive.
— No, Yan Shixun believed that there were countless brilliant individuals, heroic spirits of predecessors, and comrades in arms — they were the ones who were truly extraordinary.
Compared to them, Yan Shixun felt he was the most unremarkable person in the world, with nothing about him that could possibly draw anyone’s attention. He was very self-aware — his temper wasn’t great, and he certainly wasn’t a kind person.
If that was the case, and if what Lan Ze said was true, then where had Ye Li’s feelings come from?
Yan Shixun felt a bit lost.
But before he could sort out his thoughts, there was a sudden, loud bang!
The entire room was instantly plunged into darkness.
Yan Shixun’s eyes narrowed sharply. He immediately threw his emotional confusion to the back of his mind and rushed out the door.
Inside the cottage, a series of startled cries rang out one after another.
“What happened?”
“Did the power go out?”
“It’s so dark, I’m a little scared.”
Because it got dark early, and the undeveloped village wasn’t lit up like the city, all the light had come from within the rooms.
Now that the lights were out, everything was swallowed in pitch blackness — you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. It was impossible to tell what was around you.
The room across on the first floor opened, and Song Ci appeared in the doorway.
Zhang Wubing was also feeling his way down the stairs along the banister: “Don’t panic, don’t panic! We were told ahead of time that the village has unstable voltage, so logistics already prepared flashlights and candles.”
Once the initial panic passed, An Nanyuan, who had previously gone out to fetch water, suddenly remembered that he’d taken a flashlight with him so he could see the river clearly.
He quickly made his way back into the room, trying to recall where he had placed the flashlight.
He couldn’t see a thing in the darkness and had to rely completely on touch, groping his way forward bit by bit.
He searched the area based on his memory, feeling around the luggage bag of the young master placed on the table. He silently reassured himself that the flashlight had been right there.
Relieved by the thought, An Nanyuan relaxed a little.
Great. As long as he had the flashlight, there was nothing to fear.
He tried to calm himself, convincing himself that the strange sounds and the smell of rot he thought he heard were just tricks of the darkness, that his fear of the unknown was making his imagination run wild.
There were no ghosts or rotting corpses — that sort of thing couldn’t possibly exist.
Ever since the lights went out, An Nanyuan, who had been sitting on the bed, suddenly felt the bed vibrate slightly beneath him. Then a cold gust of wind blew past his ankles, as if something were hiding under the bed.
An Nanyuan remembered that the space beneath the bed was empty — just high enough for someone to crawl into — and that thought sent his imagination spiraling.
First, he thought he smelled a foul, corpse-like stench wafting from under the bed. Then, he thought he heard faint rustling sounds from the wardrobe — as if someone were hiding inside.
And not only that, he thought he saw shadows flickering past outside the window. But those shadows looked bloated — several times puffier than a normal person — like something swollen.
It felt like the entire room, now plunged into darkness, was surrounded by decaying corpses.
An Nanyuan was so terrified by his own imagination that he clung desperately to Song Ci, who was in the room at the time, unloading all his thoughts in a frenzy, thinking it might ease his fear.
Song Ci was so annoyed by him that he ended up leaving the room.
Now, the only ones left inside were An Nanyuan and the male celebrity Nan Tian, who had fallen into a deep sleep from exhaustion.
An Nanyuan trembled as he tried to reassure himself — that once he found the flashlight and could see the room clearly, everything would be fine. It was all just his own fear playing tricks on him.
Clinging to that thought, he finally reached the place where he had put the flashlight.
He let out a long breath of relief and reached out happily for it — only to touch something cold and slick.
It was segmented and eerily soft to the touch, like flesh that had lost all elasticity, swollen from being soaked too long. When pressed, it sank in, leaving a pit — and the slippery surface felt disturbingly like human skin.
It was just like… the hand of a rotting corpse.
Because of everything he had imagined, An Nanyuan froze entirely.
His outstretched hand, reaching for the flashlight, stiffened. Even though he knew he should pull it back, fear had paralyzed his muscles. He couldn’t move at all.
Even as he mentally screamed at his limbs to retreat, even as his teeth chattered from the bone-chilling cold, his body refused to obey.
It was like being trapped in a nightmare — helplessly watching a monster approach, unable to run or even flinch.
And then, as his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, An Nanyuan finally began to see clearly what was right in front of him.
A corpse, soaked until it was almost unrecognizable as human.
It stood beside the cabinet, blending into the darkness, silently watching An Nanyuan.
As if it had sensed An Nanyuan’s fear, it slowly curled its lips, trying to smile.
But the swollen face and slack muscles couldn’t support a human expression, so the resulting smile was grotesque and terrifying—so much so that An Nanyuan almost couldn’t catch his breath and nearly passed out from fright.
“Y-Yan… Brother Yan!”
An Nanyuan cried out, his teeth chattering and voice trembling with sobs, “There’s a corpse!!! Help!”
His scream was shrill and broken, and the cracked tone only added to the genuine terror behind it.
Song Ci jolted, startled by the scream.
Just as he was about to turn around and scold An Nanyuan, a gust of wind suddenly rushed past him, heading straight for the room.
Yan Shixun’s tall figure moved swiftly, like lightning. The moment An Nanyuan uttered the first word, he had already launched himself in the direction of the voice like an arrow shot from a bow.
In his hand, he tightly gripped a candlestick he had grabbed from nearby, its sharp end pointed directly at the two faint silhouettes in the darkness.
With just one glance, Yan Shixun immediately sensed something was wrong.
The aura of death!
Ever since entering Longevity Village, all he had felt was an unnaturally abundant life force, as though the place held concentrated vitality. The village had seemed like a secluded paradise.
But now, a sudden and inexplicable aura of death had appeared right before him.
The two figures were very close to each other. One of them, swollen and plump, had its arm raised high as if about to attack the person in front of it.
Yan Shixun instantly concluded that the death-tainted corpse was about to assault An Nanyuan.
He no longer had any intention of capturing the thing for questioning. Without hesitation, he drove the candlestick straight at the bloated figure.
“Puchi!”
The sharp candlestick pierced directly into the crown of the figure’s head.
But suddenly, Yan Shixun felt something was off in the sensation beneath his hand.
The crown of the head was one of the hardest bones in the human body and the center of a person’s spiritual energy.
For normal people, the vital points were the heart or brain. But for malevolent beings, it was the crown of the head.
Because of this, they would protect this weak point well, making it tough and difficult to damage.
Yet what Yan Shixun felt now was soft.
The candlestick had sunk in like it was stabbing into a water balloon. It even bounced slightly and encountered no hard resistance.
That wasn’t what the crown of a head should feel like.
Yan Shixun frowned.
But the figure immediately collapsed, as if all strength had been drained from it—like a balloon deflated in an instant, falling limply to the ground.
“Splat!”
Like a water-filled balloon hitting the floor.
Both An Nanyuan and Yan Shixun, being so close, felt some liquid splash at their feet.
“B-Brother Yan,”
An Nanyuan trembled as he leaned toward the approaching figure, seeking safety.
Though he couldn’t clearly see the person’s face, the overwhelming sense of security—like the sky wouldn’t fall with him around—let An Nanyuan know it was Yan Shixun.
At that moment, Zhang Wubing managed to fumble around on the sofa and found a backpack, from which he pulled out a flashlight.
“Click!” The flashlight flicked on, illuminating the space.
Clutching Yan Shixun’s arm tightly, An Nanyuan nervously looked down—and finally saw what was on the ground.
A pile of skin and shredded flesh soaked in a pool of blood.
But it wasn’t just human skin. It was as if the entire skeleton had been removed from the body, and what remained had been soaked in water until it swelled into a bloated mass—now lying there.
An Nanyuan gasped sharply, nearly fainting.
Yan Shixun frowned. Suddenly, he heard a faint rustling noise.
He strode toward the window and yanked the curtains open.
Then, under the flashlight’s beam, Yan Shixun saw—
In the river, countless swollen, pale faces were surfacing from beneath the water, all turning upward to stare at the cottage.
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