He really was a kind person.
Ye Sheng had once come across a line in a book: “The world kisses me with pain, yet I repay it with song.” As a child, he hadn’t understood it, nor had he wanted to.
Ye Sheng had suffered from an emotional disorder as a child and was bullied wherever he went. Outwardly, he appeared dull and foolish, but beneath the surface, he harbored countless violent, manic, and hostile impulses directed at the world.
His grandmother had pulled out those dangerous thorns one by one.
Only later did he begin to make peace with the world. He forgave Huang Yiyue for abandoning him and forgave all the suffering he had endured. He constantly reminded himself never to assume the worst of anyone.
In a sense, the seventeen long, stagnant years he had spent in Yin Mountain had healed him as well.
Muffled sobs echoed through the restroom.
For a corpse-stitcher, perhaps the only thing sought from birth to death was “wholeness.” When Xiao Fang heard Ye Sheng say that she was incomplete and remembered the child she had lost, bloody tears came spilling from her eyes.
Her face was swollen and bluish, and the way she cried with her mouth stretched open was terrifying. Yet as she clutched her stomach, her shoulders shaking with every sob, her eyes were filled with confusion and grief.
Ye Sheng checked the time.
11:54 p.m.
Before leaving, the old man had given him two talismans: one yellow and one red.
The red talisman was his final life-saving measure.
He had already used the yellow talisman against the Corpse Monster, and now he would have to use the red one against the Fetus Girl. She was only an incomplete A-rank aberration, so the red talisman would probably be able to restrain her for a while.
He wasn’t reluctant to use them. His thinking was simple: if he was destined to survive, he would live even without the talismans; if he was destined to die young, what difference could two talismans make?
Before arriving in Huai City, he only wanted to cast off everything from his past and begin his life as an ordinary university student.
The old man was a mysterious and strange person who had suddenly appeared in Ye Sheng’s life two months after his grandmother’s death.
Perhaps Ye Sheng’s deepest impression of him was that he valued money above his own life.
The old man’s craving for money seemed carved into his soul and bones. He was shallow, vulgar, greedy, and deceitful, exuding the air of a charlatan from head to toe, yet he treated Ye Sheng very well.
He was a fraud who couldn’t see aberrations, didn’t believe in supernatural powers, and would stare openmouthed whenever Ye Sheng displayed his abilities, yet he could always pull out a pile of strange objects for him.
He had arrived mysteriously and left just as mysteriously.
11:57 p.m.
The train passed through the mountains and alongside a city, its scattered lights resembling fallen stars.
Ye Sheng had given Xiao Fang enough time to settle her emotions, and the appointed hour was nearly upon them.
Pulling himself from his memories, he placed the eyeball back into Xiao Fang’s hand.
“Stop crying,” Ye Sheng said. “I’ll help make you whole again.”
Logically, Ye Sheng ought to have smiled at this point to make himself appear more approachable. But he couldn’t manage it. After speaking, he pressed his lips together and fell silent.
The slender young man stood beneath the fluorescent light, his shadow stretching across the floor.
Ye Sheng had beautiful features: deep, cold almond-shaped eyes and pale-red lips. His beauty could be described as delicate, yet it was always severed by the excessively sharp edge of his presence, making him appear extraordinarily cold and solitary.
At times like this, he truly admired Ning Weichen.
Ning Weichen was his complete opposite.
Ning Weichen could effortlessly curve his lips into the smile Ye Sheng couldn’t imitate, giving it ten thousand different meanings. His peach-blossom eyes always seemed filled with affection, and when he gazed at someone, it was as though they were the only person in his entire world.
Although Ye Sheng had always found that gaze nauseatingly sappy, he had to admit that its infectious power lent Ning Weichen a fatal brilliance and mystery.
In just three short days, he had witnessed countless sides of Ning Weichen’s personality. The young man from such a distinguished family was nowhere near as innocent and harmless as he appeared.
Throughout the journey, he had been enthusiastic and considerate, acted spoiled and obedient, appeared aggrieved and dejected, then silent and sorrowful. Every emotional progression had been flawless, yet not a single one of them had been genuine.
Perhaps the real Ning Weichen had appeared during their seemingly casual conversation that night.
Flippant, dangerous, and utterly unrestrained.
“…”
Carriage 44 truly was cursed. There wasn’t a single normal person in it.
For the umpteenth time, Ye Sheng regretted boarding this train.
“When I make the exchange with the infant girl, I’ll lure her out of the mirror. I can restrain her temporarily. Use that opportunity to stitch her into your stomach.”
Ye Sheng took out the red talisman. He hadn’t examined it closely when the old man gave it to him, and only now did he discover a ring of pale-gold writing in its upper-right corner. The bold, sweeping strokes resembled a hastily scrawled signature.
It read: “The Missionary.”
The Missionary? What a strange name.
Ye Sheng raised an eyebrow.
When the old man gave it to him, he had looked utterly heartbroken and repeatedly complained about how precious and difficult to obtain the red talisman had been, telling Ye Sheng to cherish it.
…If it could save everyone aboard this train, then at least it would be put to proper use.
“Hide for now.”
Ye Sheng lowered his head as he spoke to Xiao Fang.
Bloody tear tracks remained on Xiao Fang’s face. Her fingers clutched her clothes uneasily as she gave Ye Sheng a slight nod. She took a silver embroidery needle from the pocket of her shirt, followed by a bundle of black thread.
Seeing this, Ye Sheng turned around and switched off the restroom light.
Midnight.
His surroundings plunged into darkness.
Ye Sheng stood in front of the restroom mirror.
His own face was reflected in it. From top to bottom, his brows, eyes, the bridge of his nose, and his lips—every feature was intimately familiar.
The skin of Ye Sheng’s neck was extremely pale. Illuminated by the ghostly, cold light, it resembled a stretch of snow disappearing beneath his clothes, while his black T-shirt made his collarbones particularly striking. The young man’s shoulders were slender, and several strands of black hair fell across his sharp, beautiful profile. Every part of him possessed the youthful yet upright beauty of a seventeen-year-old whose features had begun to mature.
Ye Sheng met his own gaze in the mirror.
His glasslike eyes gleamed with a cold, lifeless light.
Before long, two small, bloody handprints appeared on the mirror, resembling an animal’s paws. Fetus Girl was clearly particularly anxious this time. She clung to the mirror like a gecko, her body red and wrinkled, while the stitches across her abdomen twisted like a centipede.
“Give her to me! Give her to me!”
Fetus Girl seemed to have sensed her “little sister’s” presence. The resentment and hatred in her eyes looked ready to liquefy into black water and spill out.
Ye Sheng said, “Come out of the mirror, and I’ll give her to you.”
“Give her to me!” the Fetus Girl shrieked.
Ye Sheng’s voice was cold. “Come out.”
Scrrrape—
The Fetus Girl produced a strange, piercing sound as she scratched the mirror. Finally, she cast Ye Sheng a hateful glance. Apparently convinced that this insignificant ant couldn’t do anything to her, she slowly crawled out.
Her umbilical cord had yet to be severed and dragged across the floor behind her, leaving a trail of black blood.
Fetus Girl opened her mouth, revealing three rows of fine, densely packed teeth.
“Give me my little sister!” she demanded with greedy hunger.
Ye Sheng took the dead infant, no larger than a quarter of his palm, from his pocket.
Fetus Girl suddenly shrieked and lunged at him impatiently.
While Fetus Girl was frantic with impatience, Ye Sheng swiftly pulled out the red talisman, marked it with his blood, and pressed it onto her.
Fetus Girl froze, then curled her lips into an eerie sneer. “Do you think I’m the same as those idiots? You think you can use this against me?”
She reached up to tear off the talisman.
The edges of the red talisman began to burn, but Fetus Girl paid no attention to the flames. Her eyes were filled with contempt.
She ripped the red talisman from her face and gave Ye Sheng an extremely twisted and malicious smile.
“You deserve to die!”
Ye Sheng said nothing.
The flames continued spreading until they reached the words The Missionary on the red talisman.
The instant the first character began to burn, a burst of cyan light suddenly illuminated the entire restroom.
Fetus Girl’s smile froze and twisted within the light. She raised her head in disbelief.
Boom.
Amid the cyan light, Ye Sheng smelled a fragrance belonging to a Buddhist temple.
Within the sandalwood smoke, the rich fragrances of many flowers mingled together—lotus, water lily, lily, and orchid—refreshing the mind and spirit. They were all flowers used as offerings to the Buddha and should have been sacred and pure, yet Ye Sheng instinctively sensed that something was wrong.
The fragrance was too strong—so strong that it became eerie.
Even the words The Missionary exuded a deranged, distorted power amid the blazing light.
Fetus Girl was suppressed by that power. Her limbs curled inward within the cyan light, leaving her immobilized and furious.
But Ye Sheng noticed that the fragrance was gradually fading. It wouldn’t restrain Fetus Girl for long.
Ye Sheng turned his head. “Xiao Fang.”
Xiao Fang had already torn open her own stomach while sobbing. Looking into her empty abdomen, she thought of the child she had lost and the incompleteness she had endured all this time. Overcome with grief, she wept endlessly and could barely hold the embroidery needle steady.
Only when Ye Sheng called her name did Xiao Fang step forward. She looked at Fetus Girl trapped within the cyan light and opened her mouth. Sweet tenderness appeared within her innocent, sorrowful eyes.
A child.
She had lost one child, and now Heaven had given her another.
She would stitch the child back into her womb.
Then she would be whole.
Xiao Fang reached for her. When Fetus Girl saw the needle and thread in her hands, she vaguely realized what Xiao Fang intended to do. She suddenly screamed and retreated repeatedly, but the Missionary’s fragrance bound her in place, leaving her unable to move.
Her wrinkled, reddish face contorted completely.
Hmm, hmm, hmm.
Xiao Fang began humming happily as she threaded her needle.
She was very angry with the person who had destroyed her collection, but if Fetus Girl became her child, she would still forgive her.
In her incomplete state, Fetus Girl’s abilities were comparable to Xiao Fang’s. Once Xiao Fang stitched her inside, she would never be able to escape again.
Fetus Girl glared at Ye Sheng so fiercely that the corners of her eyes nearly split. She screamed, “Once I die, she’ll wake up soon! Do you think she’s any better?! She’ll kill you too! There are four more fetuses inside her stomach! She’s even more terrifying than I am!”
Ye Sheng realized that Fetus Girl was talking about her “little sister.”
He lowered his head and looked at the dead fetus in his hand. Ye Sheng immediately touched its abdomen with his finger. When he had removed it from the jar of pickled vegetables, he hadn’t noticed anything, but now he realized that its stomach was extremely hard, as though a small stone had been buried inside.
Hmm, hmm, hmm.
Xiao Fang had already stuffed Fetus Girl into her stomach. Her body swelled, and the opening she had torn across her abdomen was just large enough to hold a thin newborn infant. Holding the edges of her stomach together, Xiao Fang began stitching the wound shut.
The silver embroidery needle passed through flesh. Every stitch seemed to possess the ability to heal the wound, binding the flesh together once more.
Just as the final stitch sealed her abdomen, Fetus Girl suddenly let out a tremendous scream.
But Xiao Fang sternly patted her stomach, telling her child to be quiet.
Overcome with joy, she quickly tossed the needle and thread aside and happily stroked her swollen belly like an expectant mother nine months into her pregnancy.
Witnessing this absurd yet strangely harmonious scene, Ye Sheng closed his eyes. Only then did he realize that cold sweat had soaked through his clothes, and his nerves, which had remained tense this entire time, finally relaxed.
Without looking back, Ye Sheng walked outside.
Fetus Girl had said that her little sister would wake up soon. Hopefully, she would remain dormant until the people from the Bureau of the Unnatural arrived.
Ye Sheng was merely an ordinary, helpful citizen. He neither wanted to be investigated nor commended. After this unfortunate encounter, he only wanted his life to remain free of anything else that might throw it off course.
Ye Sheng decided to return Fetus Girl’s little sister to where she belonged. He would put her back into the jar and let the Bureau of the Unnatural find her themselves. Then he would pretend none of this had happened and go back to sleep.
He didn’t turn on the light. Relying on his excellent night vision, he crouched before the mess of Li Jianyang’s belongings, pinched his nose, and opened one of the jars of pickled vegetables.
Ye Sheng took out the dead infant and tried to put it inside, only to discover that it wouldn’t fit.
Had the mouth of the jar become smaller?
No.
He froze and looked down at the thing in his hand, which resembled a bloody lump of flesh more than a person. Remembering what the Fetus Girl had said, he suddenly felt a chill spreading around him.
The mouth of the jar hadn’t grown smaller.
The “little sister” had grown larger.
After her elder sister’s death, she had begun to grow.
“…”
Suppressing his discomfort, Ye Sheng tried to force the dead infant into the jar. But its head was too large and became lodged halfway through. No matter what he did, he couldn’t push it inside.
At the same time, Ye Sheng felt something thin licking and nibbling at the pad of his finger.
At that moment, the entire world fell silent.
He froze in the darkness and heard a faint, wet sound: an infant swallowing saliva, accompanied by his own soft breathing.
Fetus Girl.
…Only now had the ominous A-rank aberration called Fetus Girl, whose overview on search had been unknown, revealed her complete form to him.
A quiet laugh sounded through the darkness.
Ye Sheng’s nerves tightened, and his entire body went on guard. At first, he assumed the sound had come from the infant.
But when he listened carefully, he realized it was a young man’s languid chuckle.
Ye Sheng froze.
The next instant, someone gently caught his wrist. The position was intimate, and although the person appeared to use no force whatsoever, escape was impossible. Someone drew closer, his familiar presence enveloping Ye Sheng.
Ning Weichen leaned toward his ear, the ends of his hair brushing Ye Sheng’s skin and making it itch. His peach-blossom eyes curved as his voice emerged affectionate and amused.
He said:
“Gege, are you really looking for something—or are you stealing something?”
***
Li Jianyang felt as though he were trapped in an absurd, deranged nightmare.
Like countless other desperate criminals in Yin Mountain who had run out of options, he was willing to risk his life for money and had spent years skirting the edges of the law.
He had accepted the job of smuggling an infant girl from Yin Mountain to Huai City through a strange forum.
No one knew how that forum had found him.
That was right—the forum had found him. Or rather, someone from the forum had.
The forum had inexplicably appeared on his phone. Then, as though possessed, he had registered an account and logged in. The forum was divided into seven boards, but his access was limited to the Seventh Board.
Posts constantly floated across the home page. He could open some but not others. That world had its own unique language and writing system, and he couldn’t understand any of it.
Before long, someone named hera contacted him.
Hera sent him a private message in Chinese and asked whether he wanted to accept a job.
One hundred thousand US dollars for an infant girl.
One hundred thousand US dollars!
Li Jianyang’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. He immediately agreed.
Hera gave him an address and a time. On June 24, he was to travel to Chonghe Village in Yin Mountain County, receive an infant girl from a man surnamed Huang, and deliver her to Huai City on the twenty-seventh.
Li Jianyang thought a fortune had fallen from the sky. He hadn’t expected it to be the beginning of a nightmare.
When he went to collect the infant girl, the man surnamed Huang stood at the entrance of the village with a grayish-white face, looking as though all seven of his souls and six of his spirits had abandoned him.
When Li Jianyang approached, he nearly vomited.
The swaddling clothes were filled with blood. The infant girl’s stomach had been split open, exposing her heart, liver, and lungs. A bloody lump of flesh had been removed from her abdomen and placed in a jar beside her.
Hera said that both items had to be delivered to Huai City.
And they absolutely had to be kept apart.
Since Li Jianyang had to take the train, he hesitantly asked whether he should stitch up the infant girl’s abdomen first.
Hera sternly stopped him.
He said: If you want to die, go ahead and stitch it up.
Li Jianyang was both cowardly and greedy, so he said nothing more and chose to treat the infant girl as a dead object. But when he picked her up to leave, he discovered that her body was still warm.
The feeling he experienced at that moment went beyond anything as simple as terror.
Throughout the entire time he was transporting the infant girl, Li Jianyang never had a single good night’s sleep.
The child was clearly cradled in his arms, yet he constantly felt as though something was clinging to his back. An innocent yet malicious gaze followed him like a shadow.
He remained on edge all the way to Yin Mountain Station. The entire journey passed in a haze, as though he were sleepwalking.
He sleepwalked while asleep and sleepwalked while awake.
When cold water was thrown over him and jolted him awake, Li Jianyang discovered in horror that he was sitting inside an enclosed room.
He was no longer aboard the train.
His hands and feet were cuffed to a chair.
Two people wearing silver-and-black uniforms stood opposite him. They wore black military uniforms with silver pine-needle epaulets and white gloves.
A baby-faced young man was connecting Li Jianyang’s phone to a specialized computer and rapidly tracing something, while a tall, powerfully built young man flipped through his file page by page.
The two spoke rapidly.
“The General Bureau just sent over the information,” the baby-faced young man said. “The aberration involved in this case is A-rank.”
“An A-rank aberration?!”
The sound of pages turning stopped, and the other man looked astonished.
“Yes, an A-rank aberration associated with the Seventh Board. Headquarters suspects that the moderator of the Seventh Board may have personally participated in this transaction. This is extremely serious, so the General Bureau will probably dispatch someone to Huai City specifically to handle it. I tried tracing the forum through the data on Li Jianyang’s phone, but the information trail disappeared almost immediately. I can’t break through it—the barrier established by ENIAC is completely impenetrable.”
The young man frowned. “It’s fine. Don’t waste your effort. That empire of monsters isn’t so easy to enter.”
“All right.”
The baby-faced young man looked somewhat discouraged, but he quickly composed himself and consoled himself with the thought that Turing, the fourth-ranked S-class Executor, probably couldn’t have traced anything useful from such limited information either.
After so many years of investigation, the Bureau of the Unnatural’s knowledge of that empire of monsters remained limited to the existence of seven boards and seven moderators. Every moderator was an aberration exceeding S-rank, and each board was named after its moderator.
They were familiar with only two of them.
The Seventh Board, Story King, the source of every urban legend.
And the Fourth Board, ENIAC, which encompassed every digital evil spirit in the virtual world.
They had learned ENIAC’s name purely through luck.
“Oh, right.” Remembering that the train was still in operation, the baby-faced young man turned and asked, “Do we really not need to send anyone to Train 1444?”
The man paused. Then his expression became complicated, and he sneered. “Send someone? Are you looking down on that young master?”
At the thought of the mysterious heir to the global financial dynasty, the baby-faced young man fell silent as well.
He was somewhat puzzled. “The Ning family has so many ability users at its disposal. Why would they choose to put their heir in danger immediately after he returned to China? If I remember correctly, Andrew is still his private physician—and he’s the tenth-ranked Executor.”
“Who knows?”
At that moment, they noticed that Li Jianyang had regained consciousness.
“He’s awake.”
The man holding the file immediately became serious. He stepped forward, his hawklike eyes sharp as he questioned him coldly.
“Li Jianyang, I’m Cheng Fa from the Bureau of the Unnatural. I’m going to ask you some questions. What was the name of the person you dealt with on the forum, and where in Huai City were you supposed to deliver the goods?”
