Chapter 57: Who Moves Forward? Part 1

“Have you ever thought about the future?” Wen Yuankui asked.

Tao Fangyi shook his head. “The future can’t just rely on plans.”

“What about that fierce ghost called Wang? Have you really decided to keep him by your side for the rest of your life?” Wen Yuankui asked again.

“I thought you’d want to talk about matters between you and me.” Tao Fangyi had assumed Wen Yuankui wanted to clarify the relationship between the two of them.

“There’s nothing to discuss between us.” Wen Yuankui scratched the back of his head vigorously, almost rubbing his own fur bald.

Fine, he was still evading.

Wen Yuankui immediately added, “Don’t change the subject. What exactly are your thoughts toward that kid?”

“I want… I want to raise him, but lately I’ve been feeling like something’s off.” At this point, Tao Fangyi covered his face in shame.

Although he had no experience raising children, he’d observed plenty and easily realized he wasn’t a good parent. “Generally speaking, when raising a child, you’re supposed to start preparing to say goodbye the very first day you meet them, right?”

Wen Yuankui: “Most people wouldn’t start preparing that early.”

“But we’ve only been together a few months, and I don’t want to hand him over at all.” Tao Fangyi just wanted to keep Wang at home and raise him himself.

“You know what? Every time I open my eyes, I find him guarding my bedside, staring at me with those big sparkling eyes of his…”

“He doesn’t have eyes,” Wen Yuankui reminded.

Tao Fangyi corrected himself at once. “Staring at me with the reflection of his big white teeth.”

Wen Yuankui understood. Precisely because Wang’s face only had those big white teeth, Tao Fangyi had developed a baffling fixation on them.

Wen Yuankui rested his cylindrical paws on his furry legs. “I feel like the communication between you two is a bit excessive. We’ve never been this close before.”

“But he’s a child.” Tao Fangyi believed children deserved more care.

“He’s not a child; he’s over a hundred… Seriously, I’m a little worried.” Wen Yuankui had also searched for his own love affinity or love tribulation, seeking to reach a higher level. “Is there some entanglement of desire and emotion between you two?”

Tao Fangyi waved his hands repeatedly. “I have no such thoughts toward him!”

“Really none at all?” Wen Yuankui sensed Tao Fangyi’s possessiveness toward Wang was abnormal.

But instead of continuing to deny it and say no, Tao Fangyi’s lips trembled as he asked fearfully, “Do you think there is?”

Wen Yuankui: “? You’re asking me?”

“I have no experience.” Tao Fangyi was deeply conflicted.

He wasn’t human; he’d never even gone through a developmental growth phase.

Although certain organs had sprouted as his body transformed, they were nothing but useless accessories with no function.

Unlike humans with their growth spurts, he was originally a piece of wood, and his body didn’t even have hormones.

That special kind of emotion often paired itself with desire. Tao Fangyi’s body had never undergone any changes, yet he did feel himself growing increasingly fond of controlling Wang—especially after realizing Wang didn’t resist any of it. His possessiveness over Wang became unstoppable.

“I feel like…” Tao Fangyi lowered his voice. “I feel like Wang is just like those stones I used to put into my cauldron.”

“You used to load stones in there?” Wen Yuankui only knew Tao Fangyi liked buying utterly useless things—he’d even purchased the stones street performers used for the chest-shattering trick.

“Yes, and so I also want to pack Wang into my cauldron, or stuff him into my briefcase.” Tao Fangyi genuinely wanted to make Wang his and his alone.

Even though Wang was a noisy flip-top trash can, he was an utterly adorable shouty flip-top trash can.

Besides, Wang had no parents anymore. It only made sense for him to do this, right?

Yet Tao Fangyi always wondered whether this counted as taking advantage of someone’s misfortune, and whether it was too unfair to Wang.

“And there’s something else I’m not sure you’ve noticed,” Wen Yuankui went on. “This little friend of yours, even though he looks like a complete lunatic—”

“He’s not a lunatic,” Tao Fangyi corrected.

“Fine, fine. What I mean is, his insanity is always carefully kept within safe limits. Haven’t you noticed?” Wen Yuankui found this improbable. “A fierce ghost brimming with resentment wouldn’t care whether the people he kills are criminals or not.”

Tao Fangyi: “I know. Wang is full of secrets, but he’s not ready to tell me yet.”

Wen Yuankui: “Don’t you have any urge to pry?”

“If I pry, wouldn’t it be like reading a child’s diary?” Tao Fangyi considered that immoral.

“Achoo!” Wang sneezed for no apparent reason.

He felt a chill creeping all over his body.

Elsewhere, Wenren Fu, who was putting up posters, also felt a prickle at his back.

Why the prickle? Wenren Fu stuck the poster onto the wall.

This was his own room. His parents wouldn’t barge in.

So he could arrange anything he liked here.

After pasting the poster, Wenren Fu stepped back two paces and admired it carefully.

The poster was a drawing he’d made of Tao Fangyi. It couldn’t be helped—photos of Tao Fangyi were nearly impossible to get.

And printing posters was a hassle. Tao Fangyi’s image still seemed to affect ordinary people, so Wenren Fu had to buy his own machine and do it himself.

Now Wenren Fu’s room was covered in posters he’d produced himself. His bed was stuffed with various Tao Fangyi dolls, and by the headboard stood a life-sized wooden sculpture of Tao Fangyi, though it hadn’t been fully carved yet.

After putting up the poster, Wenren Fu transformed back into his true form. He shrank his size and coiled himself around the wooden figure.

Today was Sunday. After dealing with an urgent morning task, his afternoon was free time to rest.

Wenren Fu’s tail circled Tao Fangyi’s skull, then spiraled downward loop after loop.

His upper half squeezed onto the bed just right. He used his paw to fiddle with a Tao Fangyi plushie, then buried his own head under a pile of them.

Two large tiger paws fiercely clutched the toys, not letting a single one escape.

Wenren Fu’s head was squeezed tight by the plushies, and he let out a contented sigh.

The only pity was that none of these had Tao Fangyi’s scent.

Wenren Fu curled his lips. Then he used his muzzle to nudge aside the blanket, uncovering a baseball cap hidden underneath.

This was one of the props Tao Fangyi had used for disguise before.

Tao Fangyi thought he’d lost this cap, but Wang had quietly snatched it and thrown it at the spot where Wenren Fu usually lurked.

Wenren Fu draped the cap over his muzzle, then settled into a satisfied sleep.

Wang figured he could try giving away something else next time.

Secretly snip off a lock of Tao Fangyi’s hair?

Would that be too risky?

He could also get Tao Fangyi to give it to him willingly, and then he’d just say he was storing it away.

Great idea!

Tomorrow he’d have his true body buy a display box on the way to work to hold the hair.

As Wang dreamed of a delightful life with an entire Tao Fangyi-themed room, he sauntered along behind the three children.

Zheng Yanyan nervously clutched Wu Qing’s arm. “Could there be tigers here?”

“This is just a little grove, not a forest. Where would a tiger come from?” Wu Qing scoffed. “You won’t even run into a wolf.”

At the word “wolf,” Zheng Yanyan suddenly recalled something she’d just learned. “Did you know? Dogs evolved from wolves.”

Wu Qing: “…Oh, you’re so clever.”

Zheng Yanyan pressed on, “Then do you know how wolves turned into dogs?”

“No idea.” Wu Qing thought it was fine as a distraction anyway, sparing them from Zheng Yanyan suddenly bursting into tears, refusing to walk further, and wasting their time.

Zheng Yanyan: “Because people gave wolves food, and that food had hormones in it. The wolves ate the hormones and turned into dogs.”

Wu Qing: …

That sounded like one of the tall tales Zheng Yanyan’s parents used to fool her.

“What people fed them was chocolate.” Zheng Yanyan lowered her voice. “Wolves eat it and turn into dogs. Dogs eat it and die. Humans who eat too much turn into monkeys.”

This was definitely something Zheng Yanyan’s parents made up to hoodwink her.

“But eating one big piece a week is fine.” Zheng Yanyan tugged at Wu Qing. “You’ve obviously never eaten too much, because you’re not a monkey.”

“Yeah, that must be it.” Wu Qing was beyond exasperated.

“I actually already knew that sweet things turn people into cuter versions of themselves.” Zheng Yanyan delivered her knowledge with a straight face. “The Sponge Cake Princess said so. Have you seen Thirteen Dessert Princesses?”

“I generally don’t watch that thing as a documentary,” Wu Qing said. “Also, what do you mean by ‘cuter versions of themselves’?”

“Dogs are cuter than wolves. Monkeys are furry, so they’re cuter than people.” Zheng Yanyan felt a bit regretful—her family strictly limited how much chocolate she could eat, otherwise she’d have already transformed into an adorable little monkey.

“If your parents knew what their made-up nonsense has convinced you of, they’d definitely despair.” Wu Qing couldn’t keep this conversation going with her.

Luckily, Zhou Jia spoke up just then. “If the Earth God can really grant my wish, then can I use myself to trade for my mom back?”

“Don’t even think about it. What do you think a life is? Do you think it’s a hostage swap?” Wu Qing clicked her tongue. “At most, through that paper, your mom can hear your voice. It’s already the limit if she can come visit you in your dreams.”

Zhou Jia hung her head.

Wu Qing didn’t know what she was thinking, so she patted her back. “Just treat this as your final conversation with your mom. Oh, wait, no—you’ll still get to lie in her arms and act spoiled later.”

“Hey! Is that it?!” Zheng Yanyan suddenly pointed at a tiny concrete shrine that looked no bigger than a square meter.

“Yes!” Wu Qing grabbed Zhou Jia and ran forward.

That small Earth God shrine was even blocked by an iron railing. Wu Qing pulled a pen and paper from her bag and began writing a prayer, hoping the Earth God would allow the soul that had yet to reincarnate to hear her daughter’s words.

After finishing, Wu Qing burned the prayer.

But she had no special spiritual power at the moment; she had no idea whether it had succeeded or not.

So Wu Qing turned to Wang, who had been following them all along.

“It worked,” Wang said.

“It worked! Go on, speak.” Wu Qing nudged Zhou Jia.

Zhou Jia gazed at the Earth God’s statue and slowly knelt.

She opened her mouth.

Wu Qing saw Zhou Jia’s tears fall.

But Zhou Jia’s voice held no trace of sobbing. “Mom, my friends and I came to see you.”

Huh?

Wu Qing was surprised.