As a modern person, if Li Zhu still needed to consult a manual to fiddle with a smartphone, his parents would surely post about it on the company website’s introduction section to mock him for an entire month. To them, their son’s reputation wasn’t important; what mattered was the free commercial promotion gained from trending on social media.
In no time at all, Li Zhu showed La Lai how to power the device on and off, make calls, send texts, and download common applications. He even set up his most frequently used screen gestures for her one by one.
La Lai asked skeptically, “So, what is the point of you humans inventing this thing, anyway?”
“It’s convenient for staying in touch,” Li Zhu replied. Then, seeing La Lai’s eyes filled with the sentiment of ‘what is the necessity of staying in touch,’ he added somewhat sheepishly, “Most importantly, it helps kill time and makes it pass faster when you’re bored.”
La Lai could not understand why humans, whose lifespans were already so fleeting, would invent strange things to make time slip away even quicker. However, considering the self-cultivation required of an Evil God, although she didn’t understand, she showed respect.
Mimicking Li Zhu, La Lai tucked the phone into a side pocket. Then, with a rare touch of gentleness in her demeanor, she asked, “What is it that you want to know?”
Under the soft yellow lamplight, Li Zhu sat on a revolving computer chair with his legs spread. He looked handsome, dashing, and charming the kind of man who, just by sitting there, looked like the ideal partner to charm thousands of young women.
He propped his chin on his hand, observing La Lai for a long while before speaking slowly. “Yesterday, you said that the birth of an Evil God requires malice originating from the high-dimensional source of the world. What does that mean?”
the rare softness on La Lai’s face gradually vanished. After a moment of silence, she said, “This is the one thing I cannot tell you.”
Li Zhu countered, “Oh? And what if I insist on knowing?”
La Lai instead asked, “Do you remember the ants I mentioned to you?”
That was during the first time she had questioned his motives for approaching her. She had revealed to him then that sometimes, the high-and-mighty Evil Gods within a dungeon instance were merely ants themselves.
La Lai sat on the edge of the bed. Her cheeks were as pale as ever, save for the single point of vivid red at the bead of her lip. With a calm gaze, she said, “When you speak of Him, even if you do not mention Him by name, He may still become aware of your existence.”
Li Zhu’s heart skipped a beat, but he maintained a joking expression. “Can He really keep track of everyone individually?”
La Lai did not smile. Her cold voice sounded almost eerie in the silence of the night. “Why would a deity pay attention to the lowly ants on the ground? But when He is truly bored, and a person is unlucky enough to stumble before Him, why wouldn’t He bestow a little uniquely grand ‘reward’?”
Li Zhu had an intuition that the “reward” she spoke of was definitely nothing good.
Just then, his phone let out a “di-da-da” sound. A text message had arrived.
Under the current atmosphere, Li Zhu wouldn’t have even glanced at an ordinary text. However, he had only set this specific notification tone for one person: his father, who daily wished to grind his bones to ashes and send him back to the womb for a “factory reset.”
Li Zhu let out a long sigh and clicked the message. He expected it to be another demand to meet some socialite daughter or an order to get involved in company affairs, but to his surprise, the text contained only two short lines:
“You silly boy, an outstanding employee has called in sick. I’m sending you to bring some fruit and pay him a visit tonight. Do this, and I won’t hold it against you for upsetting and driving away the eldest Miss Huang.”
Li Zhu’s first thought was: Didn’t that Miss Huang and I part ways peacefully?
His second thought was: He’s letting me off that easily this time? One should know that after his last failed blind date, he was forced to spend half a month at the company correcting documents.
He looked up and gave La Lai a slight smile. “How was your afternoon nap? Want to go out for some fresh air and rain to clear your head? We’ve got work to do again.”
La Lai: “?”
It was only after La Lai left his room that Li Zhu’s smile completely vanished. He tapped the computer monitor, reopening the interface he had previously closed. A rare look of solemnity appeared in his eyes.
On the screen was a chat window. The contact was labeled as “Secretary Qiu.”
Li Zhu’s sent message read: “Don’t tell my dad, but can you help me look into one more thing? What is ‘malice originating from the high-dimensional source of the world’? I can’t find anything no matter how I search. I’m counting on you!”
Secretary Qiu had not yet replied. Li Zhu’s expression darkened slightly. A minute later, he shut down the computer.
“I still don’t understand. Since your father sent you to visit an employee, why did you insist on bringing me along for ‘support’?”
Standing beneath an old residential building, Li Zhu counted “Unit 1,” “Unit 2,” and then scanned up ten windows from Unit 2. Seeing a dim yellow light coming from a window, he said with satisfaction, “They aren’t asleep yet. It’s the perfect time to go in for a visit, and then he can go to bed. He can even get some extra vitamins before sleep.”
Li Zhu was dressed in a pair of limited-edition, handmade Italian leather shoes, a thin black cashmere coat, and a branded suit underneath. However, in his right hand, he held a red umbrella from a supermarket giveaway labeled “Daily Fresh,” and in his left, he carried a fruit basket. The sight completely ruined the aura of a high-quality CEO coming to the countryside to show concern for the common people.
Hearing La Lai’s words, Li Zhu said, “Isn’t this just to help you digest after a meal? You might not know, but we humans have an old saying: ‘Walk a hundred steps after a meal, and you’ll live to ninety-nine…'”
La Lai interrupted him. “Did we eat?”
Li Zhu froze, then said sheepishly, “Well, okay, we haven’t eaten yet.” After a pause, he let out a long sigh. “Why are you so hard to tease?”
When they reached the building entrance, seeing La Lai about to use brute force to fold her umbrella, Li Zhu quickly folded his “Daily Fresh” umbrella and handed it to her. He then snatched the umbrella in her hand that was about to be treated roughly, gently folding it and smoothing out every suppressed wrinkle. He said gloomily, “You know, this umbrella is more expensive than everything I’m wearing combined.”
La Lai watched his pained expression, and the corners of her mouth couldn’t help but turn upward. But before he could notice her smile, she shook her head and walked into the building.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Li Zhu pressed the doorbell five times, but no one inside answered. He wondered aloud, “That shouldn’t be right. From the outside, the lights looked like they were still on.”
Just as he was planning to switch to “violence mode” and start pounding on the door, it finally opened, albeit belatedly.
Wang Kai appeared before them wearing pajamas, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Who is it?”
Li Zhu’s hand, which was mid-swing to bang on the door, stopped halfway. He looked the man up and down for a long time, finding it difficult to reconcile this person with the “outstanding employee” his father spoke of. He eventually said with some difficulty, “So it really is you. I thought it was just someone with the same name.”
Wang Kai’s expression, however, did not seem particularly welcoming. He took the fruit basket from Li Zhu’s hand and invited them inside.
Li Zhu got straight to the point. “I heard you called in sick, so I’m here on behalf of the company to check on you.” He hesitated for a moment before asking, “Is it because of something that happened in the dungeon instance?”
“No, it has nothing to do with that.” Wang Kai gave an embarrassed smile. “Thank you for coming to see me. It’s my girlfriend… she’s been acting a bit ‘off’ lately.”
The words “acting off” struck Li Zhu’s sensitive nerves immediately. He asked at once, “How is she off?”
“Come in and see for yourself.”
Li Zhu followed Wang Kai toward the study. Behind them, La Lai surveyed the surroundings and frowned ever so slightly.
Through the glass door of the kitchen, she could see that the countertops were spotless—no food crumbs in sight. Even the dish rack was clean and tidy; there were no washed pots or pans, and not even a trace of water droplets.
Wang Kai pushed open the study door, which emitted a light “creak” from the friction of the old wood.
The lights weren’t on in the study. Everything was pitch black, and the furniture was a blur, except for the computer screen on the desk, which emitted an eerie white glow.
By that white light, Li Zhu realized there was a woman sitting in front of the computer.
The woman had long black hair draped over her shoulders. She was rhythmically brushing her hair, stroke by stroke, with a red, wave-shaped horn comb.
Her movements were mechanical. Each stroke inserted the comb at the exact same position and pulled it out at the exact same spot, like a programmed machine, without a hair’s breadth of difference.
But the force she used was terrifying.
With the first stroke, she tore away half a handful of hair. A large clump of black hair fell and hung off the back of the chair, leaving a white patch on the back of her head instantly.
With the second stroke, as she combed from root to tip, dark red blood gurgled down from the ruptured scalp, looking like the juice of a ripe watermelon dripping from a diner’s mouth.
With the third stroke, when she shoved the comb into her hair, it was as if she were splitting a blade into her skull. Yellowish-white brain matter oozed out from the cranium, flowing onto the desk, the chair, and the carpet.
Brain matter mixed with bright red blood, looking exactly like a watermelon that had been violently smashed.
And in that very moment, she turned her head.
Her face was empty no expression, no features, and no face at all.