The moment the door opened, light from the hallway spilled inside.
Dai Sui looked up sluggishly toward the figure silhouetted against the glare. Upon recognizing the face, his eyes visibly dimmed with disappointment.
“It is you. What are you doing here?” Dai Sui quickly wiped away his tears and peered behind the man. However, the space behind him was empty; the figure he had been hoping for was nowhere to be found.
“Brother Xincheng, did he not come?” The boy’s voice was thick with loss.
The man did not answer. He pulled over a chair, walked straight to the front of the bed, and sat down. Dejected, the boy slumped back onto his mattress.
Just then, he felt a sharp sensation, as if something had brushed against the top of his head. He looked up alertly, “Brother Xincheng! Is that you?”
There was nothing where he was looking. The room was so quiet that a pin drop could be heard, yet Dai Sui seemed to hear a wordless reply.
“You are here, are you not?” Light erupted in the boy’s eyes. “Why can I not see you?”
He stared into the empty air, but still received no response.
From his chair, the man’s gaze swept over the boy who remained unconscious on the hospital bed, finally coming to rest on his wrist. After being admitted to the hospital, the bandages on the boy’s wrist had clearly been replaced, but the wound, deep enough to see bone, still threatened to soak through the fresh dressing.
Wen Yaozhi’s tone was blunt, devoid of any sympathy for the frail patient. “Can your blood really bring someone back to life?”
Dai Sui had always disliked this man, who looked terrifyingly fierce. Though he did not fully understand the man’s identity, he instinctively knew this person was on the opposite side. Like a wary little animal, he responded stiffly, “I do not know. Who said that?”
Wen Yaozhi’s gaze shifted slightly upward and to the side, his expression bordering on teasing, “Your Brother Xincheng.”
Upon hearing this, the expression on Dai Sui’s face changed instantly. He thought for a second and replied, “Then it must be possible.” His tone was absolutely certain.
Wen Yaozhi let out a scoff. He looked toward that empty space again. “Can you explain? Both of us drank the blood. Why is the result for me so different from his?”
Lu Xincheng was currently standing right beside Wen Yaozhi. Wen Yaozhi could see him, but Dai Sui could neither hear nor see him. Lu Xincheng stood with his arms crossed, seemingly deep in thought. After a moment, he pursed his lips, turned to Wen Yaozhi, and said solemnly, “I think there is only one possibility.”
As Wen Yaozhi raised a skeptical eyebrow, Lu Xincheng slowly leaned down.
“It must be because our hearts and minds are in perfect sync. We are simply inseparable.”
As Lu Xincheng spoke, he looked directly into Wen Yaozhi’s eyes. His amber orbs were overflowing with a soft glow, one that could even be described as deeply affectionate. No one knew that he was actually operating with the mindset of a martyr.
As an excellent actor, his professional discipline allowed him to hypnotize himself in this moment. In his eyes, Wen Yaozhi had automatically been transformed into a peerless beauty, ethereal, elegant, and transcendent. Lu Xincheng firmly believed that as long as he was not the one feeling disgusted, the discomfort would belong to someone else.
Dai Sui could not see Lu Xincheng. From his perspective, Wen Yaozhi’s face was slightly tilted upward, his expression still blank. But suddenly, Dai Sui could no longer hear the man’s breathing.
It was as if Wen Yaozhi had been struck by an immobilization technique. After a short silence, Dai Sui finally noticed a subtle change. The edges of Wen Yaozhi’s ears had turned a strange, visible shade of crimson.
Dai Sui could not take it anymore. “What are you talking about? What did Brother Xincheng say?”
Wen Yaozhi stood up abruptly and strode out of the ward with a dark face. The chair in the room was nearly overturned by his sudden movement.
Watching his retreating back, Dai Sui murmured, “What did he say to make him lose his temper like that?”
Wen Yaozhi walked into the restroom like a whirlwind. At the sink, he leaned over to splash his face with water. Looking up at the empty mirror, he wiped his face and grumbled, “Do you have to follow me even when I go to the bathroom?”
Lu Xincheng ignored his sarcasm. “That was Dai Sui’s mother just now, right? Do you really intend to just let her go?”
Wen Yaozhi was silent for a moment before speaking. “Evil spirits cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation. Previously, Dai Shengfan forcibly kept the souls of the mother and son here. Now that the restriction is broken, their spirits will dissipate before long. There is no need for me to act.”
“And if they do not dissipate? Would you act then?” Lu Xincheng actually knew the answer, but for some reason, he wanted to hear it from Wen Yaozhi’s own mouth.
“Yes.”
After a long pause, so long that Lu Xincheng thought that one word was the final answer, he heard the man beside him say softly, “It would be a release for her as well.”
Lu Xincheng stared at the faint trace of emotion in the man’s heterochromatic eyes and felt a strong urge to ask, “Is this truly what you think, or is it an emotion you have faked?”
In the end, he did not say it out loud.
Once they confirmed Dai Sui was safe, they left the hospital. On the way back, both were very quiet. Lu Xincheng’s earlier interruption had caused Wen Yaozhi to temporarily stop his questioning.
There were only a few hours left before Lu Xincheng would be freed from his bond. Soon, he would have a physical body again. But it seemed the truly difficult task was only just beginning, which was preventing Wen Yaozhi from turning into an Evil God.
Lu Xincheng sat on the back of the roaring motorcycle, pressed close to the body in front of him. He knew clearly that the person in front of him had always possessed the power of an evil spirit. As someone who had transmigrated into this book, he was also aware of the shocking secret that ran through the entire plot.
Wen Yaozhi’s power came from a deal with an Evil God.
Yes, the person who hated evil spirits the most had once made a deal with one. And this Evil God was the ultimate boss of the book. Lu Xincheng thought that to prevent Wen Yaozhi from darkening, the power belonging to that Evil God simply had to disappear.
In other words, he had to eliminate that boss. But currently, his abilities were far from enough. And as for Wen Yaozhi, Lu Xincheng did not think the man would stand on his side.
It would be a tough battle, but Lu Xincheng remained optimistic. He was still waiting to go back and film his new movie; there was a major award he had not had the chance to collect before he transmigrated. He wondered if he would still be able to hold that trophy when he returned.
Back at home, Wen Yaozhi called Meng Yili and asked him to renew the rental on the funeral home’s freezer for another two days.
While waiting for the water to boil for his instant noodles, he turned his head toward the soul who was boredly playing with the cabinet door. “Do you have a feeling about exactly when you will be resurrected?”
Lu Xincheng was crouching on the floor, staring at the low cabinet. He hooked his index finger repeatedly, causing the plastic glass door to open and close in rhythm with his movements. “No, why?”
“No reason, I was just asking,” Wen Yaozhi turned back.
The soul beside him let out a massive yawn. “You cover the cost for the freezer first. I will pay you back once I wake up.”
Wen Yaozhi gave a casual grunt of agreement.
Lu Xincheng stood up on weak legs and leaned in to look at Wen Yaozhi’s flawless face, which did not even have dark circles. “How long has it been since you slept? Twenty-four hours?” Seeing the defiant look in the other’s eyes, he shook his head. “Even a ghost is not as persistent as you.”
Lu Xincheng was so tired he was seeing stars. Since arriving in this world, he had barely slept. It was lucky he was currently a soul; if he were human, he would have died from exhaustion.
The water in front of Wen Yaozhi finally boiled. He picked up the kettle and was about to pour the scalding water onto the noodles when he heard a voice in his ear.
“Can we go to sleep now?”
The voice sounded as if it were squeezed out from the throat, the end of the sentence trembling with exhaustion. His hand paused instantly, and his eyes darted to the side.
The person beside him was stretching his arms as far as they could go in an unabashed yawn. His usual perfectly managed expression was gone. His features were scrunched together, and even the bridge of his elegant nose was wrinkled. When his dark, almond-shaped eyes opened again, they blinked twice and focused on the cup of noodles.
Wen Yaozhi also noticed something and looked down. Half the kettle of water had been poured directly onto the paper lid, which was only half-peeled back.
Wen Yaozhi carried the noodles to the bed. He sat at the foot of the bed and began to eat the noodles, which had only soaked for thirty seconds and were barely softer than rubber bands.
Lu Xincheng lay on the bed and rolled over, nearly hitting his head. Even back in his university days, he had never slept on a bed this small, and the hard wooden board underneath made his back ache.
Lu Xincheng mentally planned his first priority after resurrection, which was to find a hotel and get some comfortable sleep. He glanced down at the person at the foot of the bed who was silently devouring his food. “Are you not going to sleep?”
Wen Yaozhi looked up through the rising steam. His usually sharp and cold heterochromatic eyes held a hint of daze.
As soon as Lu Xincheng said it, he realized the impropriety of the question. Given their forced proximity, if Wen Yaozhi were to sleep, the two of them would have to squeeze onto this single bed that was less than 90 centimeters wide.
Lu Xincheng quickly looked away, pursed his lips, and shut his eyes. Wen Yaozhi looked at his performative sleeping posture and seemed to let out a cold snort before burying his face back into the noodle cup.
After finishing his meal, he took out his phone to reply to a few messages and browsed the latest news on the forum before setting the device down. Lu Xincheng had been silent for a long time. According to Wen Yaozhi’s observation, he was truly asleep.
Wen Yaozhi moved silently to the head of the bed and looked down from above. The soul lying on his back had a peaceful sleeping face.
This was a refined face he had looked at for nearly ten years. Usually, when two people spend too much time together, they stop noticing each other’s features. Whether one is breathtakingly beautiful or incredibly ugly, a powerful immunity develops. So, as Wen Yaozhi looked at that face carefully, he felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity.
Is he truly Lu Xincheng?
A very strange feeling suddenly arose in Wen Yaozhi’s heart. Is the person before him really the Lu Xincheng he had known since school?
He examined every inch of the features, from the long lashes to the straight bridge of the nose, and then to the pale lips. His gaze lingered for a half-second on the moist lower lip, noticing a small, dark red smudge at the corner.
It was like a precious work of art in a gallery that had been slightly marred by a flaw. He instinctively reached out to wipe it, but suddenly realized what it was.
Wen Yaozhi shifted his body down and rested his head on his hand. Maintaining his position facing Lu Xincheng, his eyes also slowly closed. He had indeed been awake for twenty-four hours.
Wen Yaozhi did not know how long he had slept. He was awakened by a phone call. He kept his eyes closed and fumbled for the phone, putting it to his ear.
Meng Yili’s urgent voice came from the other end.
“Lu Xincheng’s body is gone.”
That single sentence was like a bucket of ice water, instantly shocking Wen Yaozhi from a deep sleep into full wakefulness. After hanging up, he sat up.
On the narrow wooden bed, the space beside him was completely empty. Not even a trace of a ghost remained.
The soul that had been practically glued to his side before he fell asleep had vanished like a shooting star, quietly disappearing into the night sky.