Inside the detention center, the lights flickered several times. The prison guard on duty adjusted the power supply and muttered, “Strange, what is wrong with the lights today?”
In the darkness, Dai Shengfan curled up on the steel bed. He seemed trapped in a nightmare, drenched in cold sweat. Overnight, the hair at his temples had turned white; he looked as if he had aged more than a decade. For a brief moment, as light and shadow interlaced, a terrifying scene invisible to the naked eye manifested in the cell. The seemingly empty solo cell was packed with resentful spirits: men, women, the young, and the elderly.
As the guard walked away, a round object rolled out of the guard’s trousers pocket. It was an eyeball. The eyeball stared at the sleeping man, its eerie black pupil reflecting a heart full of hatred.
Cheng Su seemed to want to chat more, but Wen Yaozhi gave him no opportunity to speak further. “I have something to do here. I am hanging up.”
After pressing the end-call button, Wen Yaozhi turned around. When their eyes met, Lu Xincheng spoke first. “Here is the deal: I have a piece of good news and a piece of bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”
Wen Yaozhi stared at him for a long while with a complex gaze before finally speaking slowly, “What is the bad news?”
“You will have to renew my lease on that funeral home freezer for a bit longer.”
Wen Yaozhi responded with silence. The cost of a freezer was not cheap; for him, this was indeed bad news. Wen Yaozhi pressed his lips together, seemingly suppressing some emotion. “And the good news?”
“For the next short while, I will be,” Lu Xincheng paused to organize his words, “by your side.”
Wen Yaozhi gave him a look that clearly said, “That is it?”
Lu Xincheng added righteously, “Did you not say you wanted to keep an eye on me? Given the current situation, is this not the most convenient way for you?” Toward the end, he leaned forward with a hint of self-abandonment. Wen Yaozhi, who had been gripping Lu Xincheng’s shoulder, was forced to move his hand; his palm now rested against Lu Xincheng’s thin back.
From the outside, it looked even more like he was holding Lu Xincheng in his arms. However, he did not let go, maintaining this ambiguous posture. Wen Yaozhi tucked his chin slightly, looking down at the person before him, and asked the crucial question, “Why bother continuing to preserve your body?”
Since this could not be hidden forever, Lu Xincheng decided to give Wen Yaozhi a heads-up. Due to the proximity, Lu Xincheng uncomfortably turned his head away. “Because, I feel like I might come back to life.”
“You feel like it?” As if intentionally refusing to let him dodge the question, Wen Yaozhi forced his chin back.
Lu Xincheng’s gaze was forced back to the handsome face inches away; the sharp lines of Wen Yaozhi’s features were incredibly clear. As the actor who played Wen Yaozhi, Lu Xincheng’s own appearance and temperament were actually quite different from the man himself. Wen Yaozhi possessed a somewhat feminine beauty; his looks and aura were cold and detached, but his lips were redder than the average person’s. They resembled a tempting, tart fruit, creating a stark contrast with his distant facial expression.
His upturned phoenix eyes were sharp; when his gaze swept over, it was filled with cold, oppressive weight. It was difficult for ordinary people to lie under the gaze of those intimidating heterochromatic eyes. Lu Xincheng was no different. He lowered his eyes to avoid the stare. “I am not sure either. Maybe it is because I drank Dai Sui’s blood earlier.”
While Wen Yaozhi was considering the truth of this statement, his phone rang again. It was Cheng Su once more. Wen Yaozhi frowned but answered. Amidst the noisy background, the man’s lowered voice came through, “That kid is in the ICU. It looks like he might not make it. Do you want to come see him?”
Half an hour later, the red “In Surgery” light above the ICU door was lit. Two criminal investigators in police uniforms sat in the waiting area. Further down the hallway, Wen Yaozhi pulled down his baseball cap and whispered, “Are you not going in to see?”
In the air where others could not see, Lu Xincheng shook his head. He wanted to go, but he was currently helpless. He was wrapped in an invisible wall of air, forced to stick to Wen Yaozhi’s side like a conjoined twin.
The stagehand and assistant director, who were originally the most seriously injured, had been saved. Dai Sui had injured his radial artery, and that amount of blood loss would be fatal for an ordinary person. But he was not an ordinary person; logically, it should not have been that severe.
Lu Xincheng knew what Wen Yaozhi was thinking. “The first time I saw Dai Sui was in a hospital. He was in a coma back then, too.”
Wen Yaozhi reflected for a moment, a spark in his eyes. “It is because of Dai Shengfan, is it not?”
Lu Xincheng nodded. “In Dai Shengfan’s eyes, this ‘bargain son’ is not human at all. At most, he is a human-shaped Tai Sui. His entire purpose is to provide a constant stream of luck. Over the years, Dai Sui has likely been overextended. One or two sacrifices were no longer enough, which is why Dai Shengfan directed this whole drama to harvest several lives at once and use the excuse of a ghost haunting to escape justice. If you had not intervened, he probably would have succeeded by now.”
Wen Yaozhi listened silently to Lu Xincheng’s analysis. He turned around, leaning back against the windowsill, and snorted. “After all that talk, you just want to say Dai Sui is a victim.”
Lu Xincheng raised an eyebrow, as if to say, “Is he not?”
In this world, no one understood Wen Yaozhi better than Lu Xincheng. More than ghosts, this man detested evil spirits. Given Dai Sui’s nature, even if his hands were clean of blood, Wen Yaozhi would typically kill him just to be safe.
With half of his head turned toward the window, the silhouette of Wen Yaozhi’s profile was perfect under the light. Lu Xincheng could not see the expression in those heterochromatic eyes. A cold, indifferent voice drifted over, “Instead of him, you should worry about yourself.”
Lu Xincheng fell silent.
“Even if you can really return to your soul, you will not be the same Lu Xincheng as before.” The icy voice poured into his ears, causing Lu Xincheng to flinch violently.
His first reaction was to wonder how Wen Yaozhi knew. Wen Yaozhi keenly felt the emotional shift in the soul beside him. Because they were so close, with the other practically pressed against him, he could see the sudden trembling of Lu Xincheng’s long eyelashes from the corner of his eye.
Wen Yaozhi turned his head and saw the clearly frozen expression. That composed, effortless smile that usually graced Lu Xincheng’s lips had vanished. He scrutinized this never-before-seen expression for a long time, as if savoring it, while his thin lips pressed together slightly.
Meanwhile, a thousand thoughts flashed through Lu Xincheng’s mind. He questioned his acting and wondered where he had slipped up. Only after meeting Wen Yaozhi’s gaze did he belatedly realize the other meaning of the sentence. Wen Yaozhi meant that if he drank Dai Sui’s blood, he might undergo some physical or spiritual changes.
By the time Lu Xincheng realized this, his entire reaction had already been witnessed by Wen Yaozhi. He could only turn his head and cough lightly to hide his embarrassment. “Let us talk about the future when the future comes.”
The surgery light went out. Soon, the patient was wheeled out. The two police officers stepped forward to question the doctor. The doctor nodded, indicating the boy was out of danger.
Wen Yaozhi watched from a distance. “Do not worry, I will not touch the kid for now.”
Lu Xincheng was about to speak when the following words caused his smile to evaporate instantly. “I will wait until the day I kill you, and then I will send him along to keep you company.”
Lu Xincheng was speechless. His good brother was about to be resurrected, and all he thought about was killing. Was there any friendship more “plastic” than this in the whole world?
After leaving the resuscitation room, Dai Sui was transferred to a general ward. A police officer dozed off while guarding the door. This floor consisted of private VIP wards, and the corridor was mostly empty.
A strange, ghostly wind blew through, causing the overhead lights in the long hallway to flicker. As the chill brushed past, the napping officer shivered; his eyelids fluttered, but his head soon slumped even lower. The ghostly wind swirled low and seeped through the crack beneath the door.
Half a minute later, the tall man in the baseball cap stopped at the door. He glanced at the sleeping officer and withdrew a hand from his pocket. He gripped the doorknob with his slender fingers but paused just before opening it.
“What is wrong?” Lu Xincheng’s voice came from beside him.
“It seems,” Wen Yaozhi’s voice was very low, “that we are not the only visitors.”
Through the semi-transparent glass on the door frame, he looked inside. Dai Sui lay quietly on the bed, breathing steadily in a deep sleep. That was only what an ordinary person would see. In another layer of space, beside the sleeping physical shell, Dai Sui’s soul had long since awakened. He had been leaning against the headboard, but upon seeing something, he sat bolt upright.
His expression was blank and his mouth was slightly agape. His eyes were filled with the terror of a sudden appearance, but even more so with confusion. The face before him was entirely unfamiliar, yet he searched his memories and finally found a matching face in a photo album he had secretly flipped through as a child. Dai Sui’s mouth opened and closed as if his tongue were tied; he could not utter a word for a long time. Finally, from his dry throat, he whispered, “Who are you?”
The woman standing opposite him also wore a hospital gown. The clothes were oversized and the hem hung loosely. She was clutching something tightly to her chest, though from Dai Sui’s angle, he could not see what it was. The woman did not answer; she stood silently, watching him. Her pitch-black eyes seemed devoid of any emotion.
Abruptly, a sound came from her. Dai Sui could not identify it; it sounded like the cry of a stray kitten. Then, a massive wail of a crying infant filled the room. The woman lowered her head, looking at the object in her arms.
In that instant, Dai Sui felt a shiver deep in his soul. He stood up from the bed, finally seeing clearly what was in her arms. It was a baby, only the size of a forearm. Its entire face and neck were a dark purple, looking indescribably eerie and terrifying.
The woman’s expression finally changed. The corners of her mouth curled upward, and her eyes softened with tenderness. She reached out and gently tapped the baby’s nose. The crying stopped instantly. The tiny infant, whose skin was still wrinkled and shriveled, struggled to open its eyes. It looked up to see a beautiful, gentle face. Then, the face of a boy, youthful yet starting to show sharp features, leaned in from the side.
The baby’s large eyes blinked at them. Its purple-tinted mouth curved. Dai Sui thought he was going to cry again, but he did not. Instead, sharp sounds like a kitten’s mewling came from his throat.
“He is laughing,” the woman’s voice drifted over, soft and calm. “It seems he likes you too.”
Dai Sui stared fixedly at the small face, and his own lips curled up slightly. The woman, seemingly oblivious to Dai Sui’s internal turmoil, continued to coax the infant. “When I was pregnant with him, I already chose a name: Xiao Nian. Back then, I thought if I had another younger brother for him later, I would call him Xiao Sui. Nian Nian You Yu, Sui Sui Ping An.”
The woman’s voice, as gentle as water, echoed in Dai Sui’s ears. An inexplicable, strange emotion surged up and hit the bridge of his nose. He suddenly felt a sting in his nose, and his eyes grew dry and hot.
“We cannot stay long.” The woman’s gaze flickered toward the door before landing back on the boy on the bed. “Do not try to end things anymore. You do not owe anyone anything. Since you have come into this world, live this life well.”
She spoke slowly, every word reaching Dai Sui’s ears clearly. “I do not expect you to achieve great things,” the woman smiled lightly, “I just hope you can be safe and happy.”
The woman’s jade-like palm rested on Dai Sui’s head, ruffling his hair gently. The boy was already taller than her, but the gesture was entirely natural. Then, her figure began to dim.
“Mom!” Dai Sui finally called out the name he had rehearsed countless times in his mind. He reached out to grab the woman’s slender arm, but his hand passed through nothing. The woman, along with the infant in her arms, vanished into thin air.
At almost the same moment, the sound of the doorknob turning came from the entrance. Dai Sui, completely unaware, stood frozen in place. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hand still grasped at the empty air. Behind his soul form, his physical body lay quietly on the bed. Tears flowed like a broken dam from the sides of his closed eyes, long since soaking the pillowcase beneath his head.