“Who are you?” Ning Shuang shouted.
Those three words began to echo through the empty ancestral hall, the reverberations swirling in his ears and yanking him abruptly from the depths of that dreamlike abyss.
“Cough cough cough.” A chill breeze brought him back to his senses. Ning Shuang slowly opened his eyes and realized he had been leaning against the wall of that desolate laboratory, asleep under the moonlight that draped over him like a translucent veil of silver gauze.
At that moment, a faint, alluring fragrance wafted past his nose.
Ning Shuang frowned. He raised his hand and discovered that his jacket had been draped over him—something he had taken off and carried in his hand after entering the experimental building. Now it seemed as though someone had deliberately placed it over his body.
The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. Ning Shuang clutched his jacket and used the wall to haul himself unsteadily to his feet, though his head still spun fiercely.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket—the one he had prepared in advance—pressed it over his mouth and nose, and inhaled the sobering fragrance seeping from it. His foggy mind finally cleared.
He was certain he had been struck by a gu poison, different from the kind that had afflicted those other two. The gu in Ning Shuang was far more advanced, slipping into him silently without a trace.
Ning Shuang carried the bloodline of the Miaojiang lineage in his veins. He had consumed plenty of medicinal herbs since childhood, so ordinary gu couldn’t touch him. The fact that he had fallen victim meant this was no ordinary gu—at least not for a half-baked practitioner like him. He had no way of immediately identifying exactly what had infected him moments ago.
After a few seconds to steady himself, Ning Shuang suddenly remembered seeing Ji Huaizhi.
Oh no!
Ning Shuang bolted from the laboratory. He glanced up at the sign by the stairwell and confirmed he was still on the fourth floor. He hurried up the stairs.
The fifth floor was eerily empty. Ning Shuang shone his flashlight on the corridor floor, where a thick layer of dust had accumulated—no footprints. That meant they had gone up to the sixth floor.
Ning Shuang climbed another flight. The sixth floor was the top, and here he might encounter those two who had been poisoned, or perhaps the mastermind behind it all. Of course, he might run into Ji Huaizhi as well.
He hesitated for a long time at the stairwell landing, but in the end, the foot he had suspended above the step came down without hesitation.
The sixth floor matched exactly what he had seen in his dream. The corridor bore a chaotic jumble of footprints, all pointing toward the depths ahead. Ning Shuang followed them until he stopped before a tightly shut door.
The experimental building had lain in ruins for ages, scarred everywhere by a long-ago fire. Chemical reagents had mingled in the air, leaving it damp and heavy. The walls were marred with bloody claw marks, grotesque and terrifying.
What lay beyond that same door? Even Ning Shuang couldn’t guess.
He took a deep breath of the fresh scent from his handkerchief, the aroma flooding his lungs. Then he raised his hand and pushed the door open.
A wave of dampness hit him first, mingled with the stench of rot from all sorts of things—and oddly, the smell of fresh food?
Ning Shuang swept his flashlight around the room. To his surprise, it was remarkably clean and tidy. In the corner, two people lay sleeping: the boys he had encountered earlier.
Ning Shuang stepped inside, surveying the classroom. Someone had clearly been living here. The floor was littered with snack wrappers and fruit peels. Under the windowsill lay blankets and bedding, along with a sleeping bag.
Nearby sat half-eaten fruit and snacks.
Aside from Ning Shuang and the two unconscious men, the room held no third person.
Ning Shuang crouched down and picked up a wooden stick from the floor. He used it to lift the edge of the sleeping bag, revealing a stash of valuables pressed beneath it.
Luxury watches, pearls, gold bracelets, necklaces… What a scam.
With the stick, Ning Shuang lifted a golden pendant. He recognized it—it was Zhao Wei Liang’s necklace.
He pocketed the necklace, then used the stick to cover the items back up with the sleeping bag. Rising, he approached the two sleeping figures.
Gazing at them, Ning Shuang fell into thought.
So where was the culprit? And where had Ji Huaizhi gone?
Ning Shuang pushed the door open and searched every room on the floor. He found no fourth person.
A hallucination? With no answers, Ning Shuang retraced his steps to the room. He pulled a porcelain bottle from his pocket, uncorked it, and wafted it under their noses.
Within half a minute, the two stirred and woke.
Seeing Ning Shuang before them, they both froze. “You idiots asleep? I circled the fourth floor, came up, and found you two out cold here. Where’s the person? Did you see the guardian god?”
“No… but I heard a voice!” Little Fatty said excitedly.
Skinny Guy nodded vigorously. “Yeah, yeah, me too. It asked what wishes we wanted granted, so I pulled out the gold I’d prepared.”
Skinny Guy patted himself down, then paused as he fished a golden pendant from his pocket.
Ning Shuang sighed. “What guardian god? I didn’t run into any. This place is falling apart—you probably inhaled too much mold.”
He stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his hands as he spoke.
The instant his words landed, both men raised their arms to cover their noses and mouths.
“Anyway, I’m heading back. Stay if you want. Downstairs earlier, I heard crying and screams—could be those students who burned to death.” Ning Shuang dropped the cryptic remark and strode out of the room.
The two weren’t particularly brave, and waking up inexplicably asleep here didn’t help. Spooked by his words, they scrambled up and hurried after him.
Ning Shuang shrugged back into his jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets, and descended the stairs slowly. The pair trailed behind him.
Skinny Guy stared at Ning Shuang’s reassuring back and suddenly spoke up. “Hey, aren’t you scared?”
Ning Shuang raised his phone to his chin, shining its light upward to cast eerie shadows on his face. He turned, stuck out his tongue, and said, “Boo.”
“…” They fell silent together.
Amused by their reactions, Ning Shuang laughed and continued downward. “What’s there to fear? Three grown men like us can’t take a ghost?”
Especially since there were no ghosts here.
The trio emerged from the abandoned experimental building one after another. At the entrance, Little Fatty and Skinny Guy bid Ning Shuang farewell and left first. Before departing, Ning Shuang glanced back. The building loomed there, wind whistling through it chaotically. The ivy on the walls trembled in the gusts, as if struggling to break some ancient seal.
“Coo coo.” Bird calls intertwined with insect chirps.
Ji Huaizhi.
Ning Shuang murmured the name silently in his heart, then left without looking back.
~~~
By the time he got home, it was well past midnight. Ning Shuang figured he had been unconscious on the fourth floor for about two and a half hours, and with all the delays, dawn was breaking by the time he crawled into bed. The sky outside his window had already begun to lighten with the first pale glow.
The clear morning birdsong pierced the night’s hush.
Ning Shuang pulled the covers over his head and slept.
He didn’t wake until after eleven.
Yawning, still in his pajamas and sleep pants, Ning Shuang shuffled out of his room and into the bathroom next door. After relieving himself and washing up, he finally felt somewhat awake.
“Coo coo.” The sound came from the windowsill again.
Ning Shuang, water still dripping from his face, was drawn by it. This was the same little bird he had spotted while bathing that day.
Its feathers looked even cleaner and sleeker now. Sunlight played across them, giving Ning Shuang the impression of iridescent white.
“Good morning. Lost again?” Ning Shuang greeted it.
The little bird tilted its head this way and that. “Coo coo.”
Ning Shuang opened the vanity cabinet and retrieved a small box containing the millet he had gathered that day to feed it. He pinched some onto his palm and offered it to the bird’s beak.
“Eat up,” Ning Shuang said.
The little bird dipped its head and pecked his palm clean.
“Where’s your owner?” Ning Shuang smelled that familiar fragrance on it again and confirmed it belonged to someone else. With so many neighbors nearby, he had no idea where it had flown from.
“Coo coo.” It chirped twice more. Ning Shuang smiled. “Lucky it was me. If it were someone else, a pretty thing like you might get snatched up and kept as a pet.”
The aroma of rice and stir-fried vegetables wafted up from downstairs—probably Ji Huaizhi making lunch. Ning Shuang didn’t have time to linger with the bird. After a couple more teases, he left the bathroom.
Standing at the stairwell landing, Ning Shuang peered down. Ning Dundun was sprawled on the floor by the coffee table, playing with toys. Several dishes of stir-fry sat on the dining table, and the kitchen rang with the clang of spatula against wok. The savory scents filled the house.
He hurried downstairs and into the kitchen.
It was the weekend, so Ji Huaizhi was still in his sleepwear: long-sleeved, long-legged pants in gray-blue. His long legs made the cramped, shabby kitchen feel even smaller. An apron hung loosely tied around him, accentuating his waistline.
His long hair was gathered with a hair tie, draped over one shoulder, while stray strands framed the other side of his face.
Ning Shuang’s lashes fluttered at the sight, deeply moved.
But why had he encountered Ji Huaizhi there? And why had Ji Huaizhi vanished after he woke? Had it all been a hallucination?
Lost in thought as he stared at Ji Huaizhi’s back, Ning Shuang didn’t snap out of it until Ji Huaizhi turned off the stove, plated the vegetables, and approached.
“Ah, Ji Huaizhi.” Ning Shuang took half a step back, composed himself, and flashed a smile. “Sorry, I slept in too late today.”
Ji Huaizhi glanced at the dark circles under Ning Shuang’s eyes and said understandingly, “No worries. It’s perfectly normal to sleep in on the weekend.”
Ning Shuang followed him to the dining table. When he saw the huge spread of dishes laid out before them, he couldn’t help praising, “Ji Huaizhi, I never imagined your cooking skills were this impressive.”
Ji Huaizhi replied, “They’re not as good as yours.”
“I haven’t even tried yours yet, so don’t say that.” Ning Shuang opened the rice cooker and ladled out a bowl of rice for each of them.
After the first bite slid down his throat, Ning Shuang immediately stuck up his thumb. “This is delicious! With skills like these, you could be a professional chef, no problem.”
The sincerity shone in his eyes, and his tone rang equally true.
Ji Huaizhi pursed his lips in a faint smile. “Thank you.”
Ning Shuang shot back, “I should be thanking you—for making all this food.”
Ji Huaizhi wasn’t just perfect in looks; his cooking was top-notch too. Ning Shuang propped his chin on his hand and gazed quietly at Ji Huaizhi’s face. Suddenly, he called out, “Ji Huaizhi.”
Ji Huaizhi paused with his chopsticks midair before setting them down entirely. He turned a serious gaze toward Ning Shuang.
“Were you home last night?” Ning Shuang asked.
Ji Huaizhi’s expression turned puzzled at once. His fine brows drew together, and the loose strands of hair framing his face somehow lent him an air of vulnerability. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just asking.” Ning Shuang nearly lost himself gazing at that face.
Ji Huaizhi lowered his lashes, his voice flat. “I was home.”
After two seconds of silence, Ji Huaizhi suddenly lifted his eyelids. A faint purple gleam seemed to flicker through his gloomy eyes as he said with conviction, “But it feels like you weren’t.”
