Chapter 5: Reunion

“I heard you Wardens are pretty special?” Wang sprawled beside the child’s bed, resting his chin on the sheets, right next to the toy the kid had hugged out of shape.

“We’re not special. We just look terrifying.” Tao Fangyi’s twisted face couldn’t make any expression right now.

“Come on, you guys are the most mysterious bunch in the Special Administration. Take yourself, for example.” Wang’s head bobbed up and down slightly, the gesture indicating he was sizing up Tao Fangyi. “Take you, for instance. Before you became this rag doll, what were you?”

“A puppet doll,” Tao Fangyi said.

“I’m not asking about your department’s visual evolution history.” Wang waved a hand dismissively. “I’m asking about you. What kind of past do you have?”

“A very, very long past,” Tao Fangyi answered earnestly, but to Wang’s ears, his answer was pure deflection.

“What about your enemies? Have you ever killed anyone?” Wang lowered his voice, that unsettling gravelly rasp creeping back into his throat. “Or… have you ever betrayed anyone?”

Tao Fangyi fell silent.

Wang laughed, a low chuckle, each sound seeming to knock against one’s heart.

“Child,” Tao Fangyi suddenly spoke, utterly serious.

The corners of Wang’s mouth stretched wider. He knew he’d struck a nerve in Tao Fangyi.

“Not everyone who has lived a long time has a turbulent past,” Tao Fangyi sighed helplessly. “I don’t have a lot of hidden pain worth digging into. I’m no different from an ordinary Non-Human.”

“No?” Wang could still hear the Fierce Ghost’s resentment. “Is it possible that you’re a Fierce Ghost lurking within the Special Administration, and this whole child-scaring gig is just your cover?”

His finger jabbed at Tao Fangyi’s face. “You’re actually a major villain.”

Tao Fangyi: …

Tao Fangyi: “Heh heh ha ha ha.” He couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.

“Are you hiding something?” Wang thought this was Tao Fangyi putting on an act.

Tao Fangyi kept laughing.

His voice gradually shifted from clear and bright to low and deep. He probably realized his tone had changed, too, and coughed twice, trying to adjust it back. But in the end, he couldn’t hold it in. “Pfft!” He laughed again, his true voice coming out.

“Were you putting on a fake voice the whole time before?” Wang thought Tao Fangyi’s earlier voice sounded like a naive young man, but now his voice was so low Wang felt his own eardrums vibrating in sympathy.

The child clutching Tao Fangyi suddenly mumbled something. Tao Fangyi hastily silenced himself.

The kid rolled over, hugging the doll and turning to face the window.

Wang circled around to that side of the bed. “You’re a Horror Doll used to wearing a mask, aren’t you?”

Tao Fangyi didn’t answer. He listened to the child’s heartbeat, confirming she was truly asleep before responding in an even quieter voice. “My real voice doesn’t really suit this… appearance.”

“A cute anime-style doll doesn’t match a gruff older man’s deep voice,” Tao Fangyi explained.

“Are you even anime-style?” Wang felt that wasn’t quite right.

“I don’t know. I haven’t figured out the definition of ‘anime’ yet.” Tao Fangyi only knew it was the new trend among kids nowadays. He really wanted to fit in, but it was all too complicated for him, and he was always slower than others to pick up new things.

“Listen, Wang, my life is truly, truly boring. It doesn’t have the earth-shattering battles between good and evil you’re imagining, nor have I ever betrayed anyone.” Tao Fangyi was a little worried that Wang’s overactive imagination would stir up new trouble for him. “I’m just here to collect Fear. This is my job.”

Wang hated the word ‘job’. “Isn’t your method of collecting Fear… scaring people? Right now, it feels to me like you’re babysitting.”

“Because every child’s tolerance for fear is different. To avoid leaving psychological scars, I need to observe the kid’s personality first, then formulate a suitable plan.” Some children were too timid and could easily be scared sick, while others would mistake a moving Horror Doll for a fairy-like creature and not be frightened at all.

“Boring.” Wang hated this kind of work, especially anything involving staying with children.

He waited a moment, then suddenly asked, “Is it possible that you betrayed someone without even realizing it?”

“Does unintentional betrayal even count as betrayal?” Tao Fangyi found Wang’s logic ridiculous.

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“Are you saying I betrayed someone without violating any legal statutes whatsoever?” Tao Fangyi felt this was completely untenable. “Even if such a thing happened, it’s just self-righteous ‘betrayal’ in the other person’s mind, right?”

“Legally, no. But what about morally?” Wang pressed further.

“That, I’m not so sure about. That scope is too broad.” Tao Fangyi didn’t rule it out completely. “However, I personally haven’t been troubled by any ‘betrayal’ I’ve committed, so to me… I haven’t.”

The resentment outside was practically itching to swallow Tao Fangyi alive. And Wang could sense that the other party’s power was considerably strong. An existence like that couldn’t possibly leave zero impression on Tao Fangyi’s mind.

So Tao Fangyi was definitely lying.

That Fierce Ghost hadn’t acted rashly, and Wang hadn’t been able to extract any useful information from Tao Fangyi.

He could only wait for a change to occur.

Wait a minute.

Wasn’t this no different from Tao Fangyi studying a child’s personality?

A low growl escaped Wang’s throat.

Tao Fangyi asked quietly, “Is something… bothering you?”

“I’ve discovered your secret,” Wang stated, only saying that before falling into silence.

He was applying psychological pressure on Tao Fangyi.

Tao Fangyi digested this for a good while, then praised him. “You’re really smart.”

Wang didn’t answer.

Did this doll really understand his threat? Why did it feel like the guy was just playing along with him, like a game of house?

Tao Fangyi also said nothing more.

Wang was engaged in a psychological standoff with this secret-laden Horror Doll, while Tao Fangyi was urgently wanting to know what had happened to his former Mission Target.

But it was clear that his former Mission Target wouldn’t appear the very next day. Tao Fangyi’s primary task remained studying this child named Ren Xinxin.

For a four-year-old, she was astonishingly well-behaved.

She tidied up her own toys. If a bowl or utensil accidentally broke, she would thoughtfully fetch the broom and immediately check to make sure her family was okay.

Her daily routine was also stable: early to bed, early to rise, and she even made her own bed.

The child was in her sensitive period for order and didn’t like adults doing too much for her.

She seemed to treat going to kindergarten as the adult version of going to work, which made Tao Fangyi, the doll, the ‘little friend’ she needed to take care of.

She had to take kindergarten seriously, or else Tao Fangyi would have no food to eat.

Every time before she left, she would always wake up early. Then, on drawing paper, she’d sketch out Tao Fangyi’s meals for the day. After that, she’d pat the doll’s head, sling her double-strap cartoon sequined “Briefcase” onto her back, and get ready to start her day’s work.

Wang was utterly bored. After all, that Fierce Ghost hadn’t made a move, and Tao Fangyi hadn’t slipped up.

Wang’s only recent entertainment was guessing what kind of food that messy jumble of colorful scribbles the kid drew was supposed to be.

“This kid is very easy to scare,” Tao Fangyi concluded. He’d done a small test earlier using another toy.

Ren Xinxin had also noticed that one of her toys would change position the moment she looked away. She’d detected the change very keenly, faster than Tao Fangyi had anticipated.

Then, Ren Xinxin’s Fear Value had spiked sharply, nearly breaking past the critical point.

This child was genuinely terrified.

And then… that toy had been smashed to pieces by Ren Xinxin.

The kid had considerable strength; she’d lifted her little desk to do the smashing.

“She still retains a few traits from her past life. As a herbivore, she’s easily startled. Once scared, there’s a certain probability she’ll enter a combat state.” This was somewhat troublesome.

“So you can’t scare her, then?” Wang asked.

Tao Fangyi’s chopsticks had just reached Wang’s mouth. Wang took a bite. “Gah! Spinach! Why does this kid like vegetables so much?”

“It’s just a bit more trouble. I can’t use traditional scare tactics; I need to be more restrained.” Tao Fangyi tried a bite himself. “I think vegetables are better than sweets.”

“I’ll reserve my opinion.” Wang detested vegetables.

“Still, through these past days of observation, I’ve discovered that you’re actually a pretty good ghost, too,” Tao Fangyi suddenly changed the subject. “Although you seem to hate everything, you haven’t done anything destructive. Surprisingly… well-behaved, at times.”

Wang: “…Your compliment makes me want to die.” This wasn’t part of his plan.

“If you think I’m a good person, could you loosen this dog collar from my neck?” Wang pointed at the red ring on his throat.

“No, Fierce Ghosts still carry a certain degree of risk. I can’t be sure you aren’t just pretending to be nice.” Tao Fangyi shook his head. “But I can help you investigate your origins, find the person who killed you.”

With an appearance as terrifying as Wang’s, he must have suffered many brutal attacks.

Wang felt despair.

Over these days, his True Form hadn’t been able to investigate what this red ring thing was at all. Of course, their department also lacked the authority to probe the special tools of the Nineteenth Level Prison.

He’d asked around obliquely but hadn’t gotten the answer he wanted.

No tool created a circular tattoo-like mark around the neck.

Wang thought about searching the forums for colleagues from the Nineteenth Level Prison. He then learned that even when typing, those people carried a bit of a horror buff—the Nineteenth Level Prison staff didn’t use the forums at all.

So, was this department mysterious because they were… isolated?

No wonder Tao Fangyi wasn’t keen on browsing the forums.

Click. The main door opened.

Hearing the noise, Tao Fangyi looked toward the door of the room.

Yang Hongling’s voice drifted in. “This will be your home from now on. Your Uncle Ren is still at work and couldn’t come to pick you up.”

No one answered her. Two sets of footsteps moved next door.

Yang Hongling continued, “This is your room. Do you like it? Your Uncle Ren said he wanted to paint a pink wall for you, but I said you might not like it, so we left it for now. Let’s see what style you like; we can still change it.”

Tao Fangyi ran to his room’s door, pressing his head tightly against it.

He heard a muffled, thick reply: “…This is fine. Thank you.”

Yang Hongling was silent for a moment, then covered the awkwardness with a laugh. “I’m your mother. Why are you saying thank you to me?”

The girl didn’t answer.

Yang Hongling continued leading her around, introducing the layout of the room, then guided the child to familiarize herself with the house’s amenities.

Tao Fangyi secretly nudged open a crack in the door to peek outside.

A bucket of fried chicken sat on the dining table. After showing the girl around, Yang Hongling led her back to the table.

Yang Hongling kept chatting. She told the girl to adjust her emotions first, to rest well, then asked if she wanted to go buy some clothes later—her shoes looked a bit too small for her.

But the girl was silent from beginning to end. Her responses were always a simple “No need.” And under Yang Hongling’s persistence, her “No need” would transform into a soft “Mm.”

Tao Fangyi watched the other’s thin, downcast face, feeling dazed.

“Not bad. This kid has a decent personality. Probably won’t cause any intense conflicts,” Wang observed. He could tell the kid didn’t resent her mother. She didn’t seem about to rebel against this household.

【She wasn’t like this before.】 Tao Fangyi said.

“Middle schoolers just tend to be a bit more melancholic,” Wang could understand. “Every kid goes through a rebellious phase.”

The conversation between Yang Hongling and the girl turned to school. It seemed the girl had come here because she was about to start middle school.

As their talk deepened—or perhaps because she’d gauged the girl’s reactions a bit more—Yang Hongling tentatively broached a certain taboo subject: the death of Li Yao’s father.

It was then that Tao Fangyi learned Li Yao’s father had been killed in a car accident when she was seven. Dead on the scene.

Li Yao’s grandmother had looked after her granddaughter back in their hometown, while Yang Hongling had left home to find work.

Then came meeting her current husband. The two had hit it off and started a life together.

Even Li Yao’s grandmother had been supportive. Her relationship with Yang Hongling had always been good. Upon learning the other woman could finally move on from that grief, she had felt a mix of heartache and relief.

Relief, probably, that at least one person could escape that suffocating grip capable of strangling a person to death.

When these topics were brought up, Li Yao didn’t react much.

Yang Hongling fell silent. She pursed her lips, mentally preparing for a moment, before finally asking the question: “Do you hate Mom?”

Li Yao shook her head.

Just as both Yang Hongling and Li Yao sank into silence, Wang suddenly spoke. “At least there’s no infuriating villain in this tragic story, right?”

Yang Hongling stood up. “Mom doesn’t have much time during lunch; I have to go back to the factory now. Can you stay home alone and be good?”

Li Yao nodded.

And Yang Hongling, having received no verbal response at all, still smiled and left a final “Eat up, Mom will come back and cook dinner for you.”

After she left, Li Yao silently, taking small bites, ate the fried chicken.

A kid her age should be enjoying these high-calorie foods, yet she looked completely distracted.

Wang had been squatting to the side, propping his head up with his hand, just observing.

But as he watched, he realized something was off.

Was this kid… glancing at him?

“Hey. Can you see me?” Wang stood up and walked toward Li Yao.

Li Yao didn’t react, but her body began to tremble.

“You really can see me!” Wang sneered coldly. Before he could continue, he felt a tightening around his neck. That red “dog leash” around his throat was yanked again.

Wang glared at the crack in the door, then suddenly yanked hard in the opposite direction, pulling the doll hiding behind the door out.

Li Yao gasped sharply.

Tao Fangyi: …

Damn it! His mission!

Points were going to be deducted!

The key issue now was to stabilize Li Yao.

Tao Fangyi looked up at the smirking Wang, then quickly made a decision.

He braced his hands on the floor and sprang up, straightened his Briefcase, and tugged his Overalls into place.

Then he hopped onto the table and extended a round hand toward Li Yao, who was pretending she hadn’t seen anything. “We’ve met before. My real name is Tao Fangyi, but you used to call me Tiger Tiger.”

Li Yao didn’t respond.

Wang burst out laughing. “Tiger Tiger?! HAHAHAHA!”

Tao Fangyi placed his Briefcase on the table. He opened it, rummaged inside for a good while, and finally pulled out a photograph.

A family of three. A man smiling awkwardly, Yang Hongling with a radiant grin, and Li Yao, smiling so wide her gums showed.

That was Li Yao when she was little.

“That monkey toy with the Velcro hands you’re holding in your arms? That was me,” Tao Fangyi explained.

“But you were a monkey back then. How could you be called Tiger Tiger?” Wang asked, puzzled.

“Oh, because when Little Treasure was small, she loved watching documentaries. Everything around her was named after tigers—the monkey was no exception.” Tao Fangyi pulled another little thing from his Briefcase.

It was a grape made of playdough, now dried and cracked. “This is the food you gave me.”

“You were too little back then, only four years old. You might have forgotten those memories by now,” Tao Fangyi said. “Take a bite, and you’ll remember.”

Wang: “There’s no way she’ll even respond to you.”

Li Yao: “Do I need to eat the playdough?”

Wang: “Huh?! Why would you answer him?”

Li Yao was still trembling with fear. Her eyes were reddening, her shoulders hunched. Only her gaze was locked intently on the photograph Tao Fangyi had pulled out.

“No, just like playing house. Pretend to take a bite.” Tao Fangyi explained.

Li Yao was clearly skeptical, but she didn’t hesitate long. Mimicking the act of eating, she took a gentle bite next to the playdough grape.

She truly felt herself tasting a grape.

What followed were the memories from that period of her life.

Li Yao’s tears burst forth instantly.

She saw herself—her past self. The self she could no longer ever reach.

Tao Fangyi was about to explain why he had frightened children back then, but Li Yao instantly hugged him tight.

“Oof!” Tao Fangyi’s stuffed body was squeezed flat. He felt large, heavy teardrops falling on him.

Li Yao wasn’t afraid of him anymore?

“Everyone has moved on,” Li Yao choked out. “EVERYONE HAS MOVED ON!!”

Mom had moved on, because she was so tired, so worn out, with too much to bear and face.

It was a good thing she moved on…

…Yes, it was a good thing. Uncle Ren was a very good person. Mom and Uncle Ren had a new family, and the child they had was very cute.

Back at the old home, gradually, no one mentioned the deceased man anymore. Dad’s friends gradually stopped appearing, too.

Grandpa had passed away before Li Yao was even born.

Grandma, not long ago, had also gone.

Li Yao knew this was inevitable. She knew that people would be forgotten. She knew everyone had the right to pursue a new life.

She’d read over and over the lessons in her textbooks about parting in life and death. Those lines of poetry she’d once felt so deeply now seemed unable to depict even a fraction of her feelings.

Perhaps it was because those poems’ emotions were too intense, while she was numb as a tree, rooted in the earth, unable to migrate.

“Why are they all moving forward?!” Li Yao clutched the doll from her childhood. “They’re all so good. No one did anything wrong. But… but…”

She didn’t continue.

Because she didn’t know how to. Everyone was good, so what room was there for a “but”?

Yes. There was no need for “but”.

Li Yao buried her head in the doll and wept aloud.