[A new body]
Lu Ting’an settled the black cat into a guest room on the first floor near the stairs. Since the cat would be staying at his house for the foreseeable future, he couldn’t just keep calling it “Black Cat,” so he gave it a name: Wu Qima [1] Pitch Black jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_1650493_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_1650493_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });.
Having nothing to do after dinner, Lu Ting’an strolled leisurely over to the guest room. Inside, a young maid was wiping down Wu Qima’s fur.
The cat was currently in poor condition; a full bath might very well kill it. However, the fur on its head and back was badly matted, and some areas were covered in a sticky, viscous liquid. If she didn’t wipe it down first, it would be impossible to treat the wounds.
As Lu Ting’an walked in, the maid had just finished rinsing a soiled towel in a basin of clear water. In an instant, the transparent water turned a faint shade of pink.
Lu Ting’an frowned instinctively. “Are its injuries that severe?”
At the sound of his voice, the maid stiffened as if she’d seen a ghost. “A… a little. There’s a puncture wound on its hind leg and some abrasions on its b-belly.”
Lu Ting’an gave an “oh,” but he still found it strange. If the wounds were on the hind legs and belly, why was there so much blood on the top of Wu Qima’s head?
However, after confirming it had no broken bones and that its spirit was much better than when they first met, he didn’t dwell on it. Perhaps the cat just had a unique constitution—maybe it just bled more than other cats.
“We have meat in the house, right?” Lu Ting’an tried to recall cat food recipes he’d scrolled past in his previous life. “Mince some pork and beef, add an egg yolk, and steam it together. No seasoning at all. Steam it for about twenty minutes as a special meal for Wu Qima. You’ll be working hard to look after it these next few days; I’ll make sure you get overtime pay at the end of the month.”
The maid was overwhelmed by the unexpected favor; the towel she had just wrung dry plopped right back into the basin.
‘This… this is still the Young Master of the Lu family?’ She had stayed up all night caring for him when he was drunk before and never saw a cent of overtime pay.
‘Could it be, as Uncle Jin said, that black cats really are lucky charms?!’
…
Late at night, the villa grew silent, and Lu Ting’an finished getting ready for bed.
He didn’t do much mental preparation tonight. The Zhou Wanxi case had ended smoothly; there was no reason for the Long-Necked Woman to show up in his dreams again, right?
As it turned out, she really didn’t come.
During the first half of the night, Lu Ting’an felt himself suspended in a vast darkness. He couldn’t see his surroundings; there was only a sliver of light centered on him. No matter which direction he walked, there was only an endless night.
This was scarier than ghosts.
When ghosts or demons appeared, Lu Ting’an could tell it was a dream. As long as he knew he would eventually wake up, the nightmare couldn’t break his mental defenses. This pitch-black environment was different; it made it hard to distinguish between a dream and reality. In the dead silence, his consciousness began to waver, as if he might slip away at any moment.
Lu Ting’an struggled to stay awake in the darkness. He walked around, one hand constantly in a defensive posture to prevent any ghosts from suddenly jumping out.
Suddenly, he heard a “Meow” from somewhere low.
Lu Ting’an: “?”
“Wu Qima, is that you?”
“Meow~” Wu Qima responded.
Lu Ting’an widened his eyes, searching the ground. “Where are you?”
Urgent “meow-meow” sounds came from right by his feet.
However, Lu Ting’an searched until his eyes were dry and still couldn’t find a thing. Wu Qima was blacker than the night itself; it had successfully merged with the darkness.
“Forget it.” Lu Ting’an gave up, though he felt a sudden pang of sadness. “Why have you appeared in my dream? You didn’t die, did you… What a shame, you’re the first cat I’ve personally saved in all these years.”
Wu Qima: “Meow meow meow!”
He wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but the cat’s cries sounded louder—sharp and indignant.
While man and cat were having this cross-species dialogue, a beam of bright light fell from above, shining squarely at Lu Ting’an’s feet.
Lu Ting’an looked down and met Wu Qima’s glass-bead eyes. It looked entirely different from how it had appeared that evening; its face was big and round, and its fur was soft, fluffy, and glossy. It looked like a cat that had been extremely well-cared for.
Before he could voice his confusion, the surrounding scenery began to change. The darkness dissipated like thick fog, revealing the true setting.
It was a very long corridor, similar to a hotel, with a carpeted floor and symmetrical doors on either side.
Lu Ting’an had a very bad feeling. With the experience of Zhou Wanxi fresh in his mind, he didn’t dare look directly at his dream.
Why did a corridor suddenly appear? It was highly likely that a crime had occurred in a similar environment.
Wu Qima seemed very familiar with the place. It took the lead, padding forward with its cat-walk. After a few steps, seeing that no one was following, it turned its head and gave Lu Ting’an a “Meow~”. Combined with its jet-black fur, it was no longer the pathetic little thing from earlier—it had become a guide.
Lu Ting’an: “…”
After a moment of deliberation, he gave a rational response: “I know your intentions are good, but let’s just not start. Whether it’s ghosts or a new body, I have a low tolerance for both.”
Lu Ting’an had a clear self-awareness; he wasn’t a particularly meddlesome person. If something had no direct relation to him, he could be a bystander with a clear conscience. But if such things happened in his dreams, he couldn’t just stand by.
Just like the Long-Necked Woman—first and foremost, he didn’t want to see a corpse every time he closed his eyes.
Why was it that other people’s lives were all about poetry and the horizon, while his dreams were all about corpses and the police?
Wu Qima was still waiting ahead. Lu Ting’an wisely turned around. “Farewell.”
He walked at a moderate pace, but after only two or three steps—barely a meter—the scene in front of him suddenly blurred and performed a 180-degree reversal. Wu Qima, who had been behind him just a second ago, was now in front of him again, even closer than before.
Lu Ting’an: ?
He turned around again, this time taking a larger stride—two meters out—and the world blurred once more. He looked down; Wu Qima was right there at his feet. The cat acted as if it had no idea what was happening, lifting a front paw and half-squinting its eyes as it contentedly groomed itself.
Lu Ting’an: “…”
‘So after all that fuss, I just have to follow the dream’s script, don’t I?’
Casting an annoyed glance at Wu Qima, Lu Ting’an said crossly, “Lead the way.”
“Meow~”
…
The man and the cat wound through the corridor for a long time—it could have been ten minutes, or perhaps as long as half an hour.
Just as Lu Ting’an’s patience was reaching its limit, Wu Qima finally stopped in front of a plain-looking room. “Meow~”
“You want me to open this door?” Lu Ting’an looked down, slowly reaching out to rest his hand on the handle.
Just as the handle began to depress a few degrees, he suddenly let go, leaped across to the opposite room, and slammed the handle down with force.
At his feet: “Meow?”
Lu Ting’an: “…”
Speechless.
It turned out that any door he opened would lead him to the same destination. What was the point of making him walk this corridor for so long? He really must have left his brain at the door. If he’d just opened any random room at the start, he wouldn’t have had to exhaust himself walking all this way.
After standing at the threshold for a moment, an external force pushed Lu Ting’an into the room. The door behind him clicked shut the second he entered.
Wu Qima was clearly familiar with this room. Upon entering, it dashed toward a specific corner, emitting low, whining mews. It quickly found its target and began frantically clawing at the floor with its front paws.
Lu Ting’an didn’t follow immediately. He scanned the surroundings, taking in this new crime scene.
It was a very empty room. The only furniture was a large bookshelf against the corner. The decor was stylistically vague, with only a few indistinct ornaments suggesting the owner came from a well-to-do background.
He walked toward Wu Qima while observing his surroundings. The moment his foot stepped onto the patch of floor where the cat stood, he felt something abnormal.
It felt like he was standing on a waterbed. The ground beneath him was soft, and there was a chilling sensation, as if water were splashing against his skin.
Lu Ting’an frowned, looking down at the floor in confusion.
There were only hazy puddles—the water looked fake, like low-budget special effects. Seeing Wu Qima digging so vigorously, he couldn’t hide his curiosity and crouched down.
However, the sight that followed gave him a firsthand lesson in how “curiosity killed the cat.”
What he saw looking back at him… was a face!
Right beneath his feet, a person lay flat on their back. To be more precise, it was a male corpse, his face deathly pale.
The body’s eyes were tightly shut, drifting slightly back and forth with the flow of the water.
The man was young, with handsome features and slightly long hair—a melancholy, Japanese-inspired look. Despite being submerged in water, he still had a strangely vivid, lifelike quality to him.
Lu Ting’an was certain it was a corpse because he saw the water being stained red with fresh blood. Indistinctly, he could see long, black worms swimming toward the body, latching onto it to desperately suck out the remaining blood.
Leeches?
Lu Ting’an stared at the black worms, lost in thought.
This was highly contradictory.
From what the dream was showing him, the crime scene was indoors—most likely this man’s home.
But why would there be leeches inside a house?
Was the body dumped in the wilderness…?
Lu Ting’an was thinking deeply when his train of thought was violently interrupted at a critical moment.
The “Brother Corpse” lying in the water suddenly snapped his eyes open and grabbed Lu Ting’an’s foot. That icy touch shot from his ankle straight to the top of his skull…
…
The next day, Lu Ting’an woke up with dark circles under his eyes that were even larger than usual.
His back ached, his legs were sore, and he had a cramp; he struggled just to roll out of bed.
Heaven only knows how many laps he swam in that pool of water last night. “Brother Corpse” had no sense of sportsmanship—he’d grabbed Lu Ting’an’s ankles and tried to drag him under countless times, just like a water wraith.
To stay alive, Lu Ting’an had no choice but to swim and swim for his life.
He woke up even later than usual today, but he didn’t even have time to change clothes before dashing into the bathroom for a “combat-speed” shower.
He knew dreams were different from reality, but he still couldn’t calmly accept the fact that he’d spent the whole night soaking with a corpse. The mere thought of being marinated in “corpse water” made his skin crawl.
The good news: Wu Qima wasn’t dead. Compared to its half-dead state yesterday, it had completely passed the danger zone today. It even trotted over happily when it saw Lu Ting’an.
The bad news: Wu Qima’s wounds couldn’t possibly have produced that much blood.
Based on its presence in the dream, Lu Ting’an deduced the cat belonged to “Brother Corpse.” It had likely been covered in its owner’s blood, then ran away because it hadn’t been fed, only to run into those cruel kids.
Lu Ting’an didn’t tell Lu Chenhu about this. If he did, Wu Qima would probably be kicked out without a second thought.
He acted as if he knew nothing, but when he left the house, he used a bag to secretly smuggle out yesterday’s blood-stained jacket.
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