The torrential rain poured down, crackling and rattling in his ears, drenching his body and battering everything around him.
Rain blurred his vision. Wen Mo did not close his eyes, allowing the water to stream into them. His eyes stung sharply, but he didn’t even dare to blink; he was terrified that if he did, that person would vanish again.
He still held the knife in his hand, poised to strike. Yet, Wen Mo found himself unable to plunge it down.
He stared blankly at the person sitting on the ground the one sitting behind “Gong Cang,” the man who had killed him in his past life.
It was Jiang Yi.
Back when Wen Mo first knew him, he was called Jiang Yi. In those days, everyone called him Brother Yi.
Unconsciously, Wen Mo lowered the hand holding the knife. “Jiang Yi” seemed equally shocked; he sat on the ground with a vacant stare, as if he too found it difficult to believe what he was seeing.
The rain gradually came to a halt.
They remained in silence for a long time, so long that the dark clouds in the sky began to scatter, and a blood-red moon pierced through the cloud layer, casting a layer of crimson light upon the earth.
Wen Mo stood with his back to the blood moon.
As the night brightened, “Jiang Yi” was illuminated, bathed in the glow of the blood moon. The half-night of heavy rain had turned him into a drowned rat; his hair clung to his forehead, and his entire body was covered in water droplets as if he had just crawled out of a river.
It was truly a face identical to his Brother Yi’s, except Brother Yi had already been dead for forty-two years.
Was it just someone who looked very similar?
A man as good as Jiang Yi would never appear in this Hell of Tongue-Ripping.
Jiang Yi was soaked to the bone. Although Wen Mo had also come through the rain just now, he was already dead Night Watchmen were dead, they were ghosts and monsters. Wen Mo could no longer fall ill; he didn’t even have a breath anymore.
But it was different for Jiang Yi. Although the sinners in Hell would not fall ill while the game was in progress, it would affect their physical health to some extent once they left.
After a moment of silence, Wen Mo put away his knife first. He took off the black windbreaker he was wearing over his clothes and tossed it onto Jiang Yi’s head.
Jiang Yi flinched from the impact. He pulled the clothes off his head, looked down at the garment, then looked up at Wen Mo, looking completely dazed.
Wen Mo looked at him with a complex expression and signed a few words to him using sign language.
After he finished the signs, Jiang Yi continued to look at him with a bewildered face. He didn’t seem to understand what Wen Mo meant. Jiang Yi wouldn’t be like this; Jiang Yi always understood what he meant.
Suddenly, Wen Mo felt lost again, not understanding what he was doing. This truly wasn’t Jiang Yi; this was just a stranger who happened to look like him.
Jiang Yi had died long ago, perished in that great fire.
For a moment, Wen Mo found himself ridiculous. After a self-deprecating sneer in his heart, he looked down at Gong Cang on the ground.
Gong Cang was still terrified out of his wits and could no longer make a sound. He sat on the ground clutching his throat, scuffing against the dirt as he retreated to the side. His whole body was trembling, and he stared at Wen Mo with pure horror. His legs kept flailing, looking as though they were too weak to stand.
Wen Mo reached out, grabbed his hair, and violently dragged him to his feet. He raised his hand, drew his knife once more, and plunged it toward Gong Cang’s throat.
“Hey!!”
Just as Gong Cang’s face contorted in pale terror, Jiang Yi suddenly let out a loud shout. He rushed over and caught Wen Mo’s hand that was swinging the knife.
The blade did not fall.
Wen Mo frowned and looked up, seeing Jiang Yi gazing at him with a face full of shock and panic.
There wasn’t much distance between the two of them, save for the space occupied by Gong Cang, who looked as if he was about to be killed at any second.
Jiang Yi held his wrist, and Wen Mo exerted a faint force; the hand trembled incessantly between the two opposing powers, being pulled back and forth.
Wen Mo gave him a warning glare and glanced at his own hand, signaling him to let go.
“Let go? Why would I let go!” Jiang Yi suddenly started shouting. “You can’t do this! Why are you waving such a dangerous thing around? Besides, if this thing goes in, the consequences will be unimaginable! Let go, quickly!”
Wen Mo’s brow furrowed even tighter.
Firstly, because this person was too annoying, and secondly, because his voice also sounded very much like Jiang Yi’s.
Damn it.
He understands nothing, yet he’s here shouting nonsense.
Wen Mo lost his patience. With a lift of his hand and a burst of strength, he pushed the man away. Night Watchmen were, after all, ghost-gods; an ordinary person could not move him.
Jiang Yi was sent flying on the spot. He rolled several times on the ground before coming to a stop five meters away.
Wen Mo raised his hand and struck with the knife
Jiang Yi screamed in shock: “A-Mo!”
The tip of the blade abruptly stopped right beside Gong Cang’s throat.
After looking down for a long while, Wen Mo slowly and stiffly raised his head. His blood-red pupils constricted as he looked toward Jiang Yi in utter disbelief and shock.
Jiang Yi had stood up and was running toward him. By the time Wen Mo raised his head, Jiang Yi had already reached him.
Jiang Yi was panting heavily and once again grabbed the hand holding the knife. While Wen Mo was still in a daze, his other hand was suddenly grabbed by Jiang Yi as well.
He gazed at Jiang Yi’s face. Jiang Yi was gasping for air, and because he was so nervous, his features were pulled tight and his face was flushed.
In a trance, Wen Mo seemed to see that day from over forty years ago. That day, Jiang Yi had cautiously knocked on his door and asked hesitatingly if he was free that evening.
He said he had something to tell him.
It was mid-afternoon then, the sun was very bright, and he had looked just like this so nervous that his face was tense.
Wen Mo’s mind wandered. He dizzily followed Jiang Yi’s strength and obediently loosened his grip.
He let go of Gong Cang.
Jiang Yi shouted: “Run!!”
Wen Mo snapped back to reality. Looking down, he saw that Gong Cang had actually scrambled out from under his feet and was fleeing into the distance.
!
Wen Mo’s eyes sharpened. In an instant, Jiang Yi, early summer, and the afternoon were all forgotten. A fire of hatred roared back into existence.
He was going to escape.
How could he let him escape… How could he let him escape!?
That bastard had ruined everything he ruined everything!
Wen Mo pushed Jiang Yi aside, intending to give chase. But for some reason, he couldn’t push him away this time. No matter how much force he used, he actually couldn’t shove Jiang Yi off.
Jiang Yi gripped both of his hands firmly.
“A-Mo!” Jiang Yi’s voice was urgent. “Listen to me! Don’t move, and don’t get worked up! Listen to me, I know this is your job right now! But start with someone else first! That’s my college roommate! I mean, that’s my brother! Even though he’s annoying, cowardly, has a loud voice, and doesn’t know when to stop when he’s making a fuss he hit me so hard my right shoulder still hurts but he’s my brother!”
“Can’t you give us a chance? This is the first time both of us are playing the game, and it’s only the first night! Give us a chance, good A-Mo!”
Wen Mo almost wanted to laugh.
If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t even make a breathing sound now, he certainly would have laughed out loud. There are many types of mutes; Wen Mo was the kind with damaged vocal cords. He used to be able to make airy sounds and some “yi-ah” noises, he just couldn’t speak words.
But now, he couldn’t even make a rasping sound for a certain reason.
That wasn’t important. What mattered was that fate really treated people like dogs. After a cycle of reincarnation, that god-awful bastard had actually ended up as Jiang Yi’s “brother” again.
This idiot was truly a fool, once again treating that person as a real brother.
Who would die in the same pit twice in a row!?
The more Wen Mo thought about it, the angrier he became. With a surge of power, he successfully pushed Jiang Yi away this time. Jiang Yi staggered back a few steps and hit the wall behind him with a thud.
The back of his head hit the wall solidly, causing him to cry out in pain and close his eyes as he clutched the back of his head.
Wen Mo’s heart twitched in response; he could never stand to see Jiang Yi in pain.
Jiang Yi hissed as he opened his eyes, his mouth still saying: “A-Mo, you…”
The words had only just begun when Jiang Yi suddenly stopped speaking. He had wanted to plead with him more, but the moment he saw Wen Mo’s eyes, he fell silent.
Those were eyes that couldn’t be described in a few words.
He looked at him with heartache, with sorrow, with anger, with resentment, and with a lingering, nostalgic attachment. It was as if he were standing across a vast, distant river, gazing from afar at a lover who had forgotten everything who had forgotten him.
He hated that he couldn’t remember, yet his heart ached because he had gained a new life.
It was as if he were looking through him at someone else, yet also as if he were simply looking through his eyes at another soul within his body.
Jiang Yi was suddenly rendered speechless.
Wen Mo lowered his gaze and turned his head. Jiang Yi subconsciously raised his hand, wanting to call him once more, but Wen Mo turned and vanished into a burst of black mist under the blood-red moonlight.
“Hey!”
Jiang Yi rushed forward to grab him but caught only air. Wen Mo had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.
“Shen Yi” stood dazed for a moment, then suddenly remembered something and looked back. Wen Mo’s black jacket was still lying on the ground not far away.
Under the blood moon, the night remained boundless.
Puddle after puddle lay on the ground, and rain continued to drip from the eaves.
Gong Cang clutched his weak legs, gritting his teeth and panting as he ran forward with a trembling voice. He ran until he had a stitch in his side; the area just below his chest felt as if a hole had been punctured through it, and every breath hurt. Clutching that spot, he continued to run without stopping.
The image of the Night Watchman, Mo, kept flashing before his eyes.
What is going on, what on earth is going on…
Gong Cang was so scared that tears flowed down his face, and his heart hammered against his ribs. For some reason, a immense dread and a strange sense of guilt arose in his heart.
It was as if he had murdered the man’s entire family.
He felt that kind of inexplicable yet massive guilt.
It wasn’t until his legs were sore and he couldn’t take another step that Gong Cang stopped, gasping for air. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. After a moment, he straightened up, wiping the sweat from his face while looking around his surroundings with lingering fear.
He didn’t know where he had run to, but he was still within the village; there were houses in all directions. It was quiet, with no sign of the Night Watchman’s presence.
Having confirmed that the place was safe, Gong Cang raised his hand to touch his throat and tried a few “ah-ah” sounds. The sound came out smoothly.
He could speak!
Gong Cang immediately felt at ease. Just now, in the face of that Night Watchman, he actually hadn’t been able to make a sound.
“Hey.”
A voice came out of nowhere, startling Gong Cang. After a loud cry, he looked up and saw Yan Pan actually perched on top of a nearby courtyard wall, talking to him with a calm expression.
“Why are you in such a panic?” Yan Pan said. “Did you run into a ghost?”
Gong Cang immediately burst into tears: “I did! I ran into the Night Watchman! Sister, he’s too terrifying. I—I’ll hide in your room for a bit!”
As he spoke, he moved to rush into Yan Pan’s courtyard.
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Yan Pan said slowly, stopping him as if she weren’t afraid of the Night Watchman at all. “He hasn’t caught up, has he? What’s the rush?”