The director was very fond of lilies, so one could often spot them adorning various corners in the orphanage. Even on the classroom podium, there would always be a bouquet of lilies too.
Fang Chen didn’t like the fragrance, finding it too overpowering. Despite that, he still held quite a strong affection for Director Granny.
He was raised within the confines of the orphanage from a tender age, experiencing marked favouritism from the director. She would always slip him candies that other children wouldn’t have in secret, give gentle pats on his head, and speak up for him when he was punished. At that age, such treatment naturally stirred up jealousy and bitterness among the parentless children.
Fang Chen knew he held a special place in Director Granny’s heart.
Ah, how great it was to be the special one.
Everyone dreams to be a special presence in the hearts of those whom they themselves care about. Especially here, amidst the backdrop of the orphanage, even the slightest display of tenderness by others became a coveted treasure, fiercely contested among the children.
Consequently, Fang Chen deliberately chose to overlook certain realities, denying their existence despite their palpable presence.
Fang Chen recalled the day Nie Shi departed after being adopted. Seated alone in the backyard, he brushed away his tears as feelings of envy alongside reluctance to part way with Nie Shi coursed through him.
While other kids were napping, the director walked up to him and handed him a cookie. “What’s wrong? Couldn’t bear to see your friend leaving?”
Little Fang Chen sat on the doorstep, tears falling as he ate. His hair had a natural curl to it, all fluffy and poofy. When he was little, his speech was somewhat unclear. Despite his knack for getting into trouble, it was undeniable that adults all loved him because of his adorable looks and somewhat quick-witted personality.
“Everyone has left.” The director let out a long sigh, gently caressing his head as she sat beside him. “Does Fang Chen not wish to leave?”
At that time, Fang Chen was still too young. He believed, echoing the sentiments of other children, that he was too mischievous and undesirable to everyone. So he dared not say anything and simply bowed his head, withdrawing into himself.
The director looked into the distance. “Everyone has left, huh… Will Fang Chen stay with Granny?”
The sunlight was a bit dazzling to the eyes. Little Fang Chen looked up and nodded innocently in ignorance. “Okay, I’ll stay with Granny.” He thought about how Director Granny was so good to him, and so he was willing to stay with her. Even though he began to feel sleepy under the scorching sun, he still stayed behind, wishing to accompany Granny.
With a smile creasing wrinkles around her eyes, the director said, “Fang Chen is such a good child. Would you like another cookie?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Little Fang Chen shook his head. The cookie was too dry, and it made him choke a little.
“I don’t want any more.”
In actuality, considering Fang Chen’s appearance, he could have been adopted by a slightly more affluent family. Yet, as his peers departed one by one, only he remained behind.
In the days that followed, Fang Chen somewhat understood—it was the director who chose to keep him behind, out of selfishness due to having no children of her own and the deep affection she had for Fang Chen.
Fang Chen’s junior high school grades were less than ideal, leading to the director’s frustration with him for failing to meet her expectations. This frustration reached a point where she even asked him bluntly whether he planned to pursue manual labour after graduating. Despite that, she still helped him find a job. She really treated Fang Chen quite well.
Occasionally, Fang Chen would also wonder—if he were adopted, would his life be better? If he did, then he wouldn’t have to endure being bullied in the orphanage. But what if the adopting family treated him poorly? What if he was sent back…
He considered both positive and negative scenarios, but eventually, he simply decided to stop dwelling on them because he lived only this one kind of life—no choices, no ‘what ifs,’ and certainly no room for any possibilities about alternate paths.
The concepts of what constitutes a good and bad life couldn’t be defined. He didn’t have the right to choose; all he could do was endure.
…
The rain continued to pour, and the wind was forceful, slamming the open door shut with a heavy thud. Gao Cheng still lay motionless, resembling a lifeless body.
Outside, Fang Chen writhed in such agony that he couldn’t speak a word. Sweat, mingled with tears, dripped down together simultaneously. He was eternally trapped in such a pitiful state, destined to remain so in the days to come. Struggling to draw a breath, he clasped his throat as he coughed incessantly, until the raw pain in his throat became searing.
Qiao Ran felt quite confused, wracking his brains for quite a long time before finally asking, “Is it truly that agonizing?” He consistently derived joy from experiencing pain, particularly because injuries would swiftly heal following death. He also harbored a willingness to witness the sight of blood trickling sporadically onto the ground, as the pain would briefly allow him to feel as though he were still alive.
Qiao Ran was much like a child lost in reverie. Before him stood countless glass bottles, each containing vibrant colours. While most people would carefully remove the bottle cork to retrieve the contents inside, Qiao Ran was different—he insisted on smashing them, pressing his hands down hard, simultaneously causing harm to others while doing the same to himself.
He had endured too much pain and suffering, and in a world devoid of distinctions between good and evil, he was just the same.
Those who subjected him to daily beatings and hair-pulling would toss him bread to eat, while those who escorted him to opulent mansions and provided him with hot baths and new clothings had ulterior motives for his organs.
Qiao Ran found humans to be genuinely intriguing, and watching them struggle in the face of death was even more fascinating.
Following death, the moral impurities left behind by humans birthed “Malevolences,” grotesque entities with human-like forms but devoid of cognition, driven solely by an insatiable desire to consume humans. They coveted humans akin to moths drawn to flame, yearning to hollow them out and tear them into shreds, devouring and desiring to assimilate with them.
—They were one and the same to begin with, after all.
Qiao Ran eyed the black-and-white cat that silently perched on the windowsill. Each individual here bore sins, and they too were no exception.
The cat turned its head, fixing its gaze in a singular direction. With a “meow,” it leapt out of the window and into the rain, crossing the street with agility towards the opposite hotel.
Movement stirred upstairs once more. Qiao Ran knew he had caused trouble. Raising his head, he murmured, “I should leave now.” He retreated a step, then moved forward once more, his hand hovering momentarily before dropping to the side of his leg. He still couldn’t understand Fang Chen, and with that, he turned and ascended the stairs in pursuit of the source of the commotion.
…
The bathroom faucet dripped incessantly. In the room, Zhang Rui and Wang Huiwen huddled together beneath the same blanket.
As night descended, they managed to find a hotel and sought refuge in it. To remain inconspicuous, they deliberately drove their car into an alley and quickly went up to the fifth floor to find a room to hide.
They had initially thought this hotel might be better than the one across the street, but who would have thought that as soon as they entered the room, they were dumbfounded by the scene that welcomed them—the blanket smelled musty, as if a whole corpse were stuffed inside, heavy and damp, offering no warmth even as they hugged each other tightly.
As the night sky plunged into its deepest darkness, the corridor seemed to echo with the rhythmic tap of high heels. Wang Huiwen’s scalp tingled, while Zhang Rui anxiously clasped her shoulders, with such force that he could push her out at any moment.
After quivering for what seemed like an eternity, the sound of footsteps gradually faded, and they eventually succumbed to slumber in each other’s arms, maintaining an awkward posture of embracing and supporting each other’s weight.
Lightning flashed in the distance, and out of nowhere, a cat darted in from outside, shaking off the water, and began to groom its paws.
As “clattering” footsteps drew nearer, the cat flicked its tail and turned its head to look down the pitch-black hallway.
Nie Shi appeared on the other side, with something akin to ink dripping from his fingertips.
“Meow~” The cat padded over on its tiptoes, wanting to nuzzle against Nie Shi’s pants, only to be dodged by him.
Raising its head, the cat’s “w” mouth seemingly a semblance of a smile.
“When did you become so repulsive like Qiao Ran?” questioned the figure, moving at the far end of the hallway.
The black substance dripped and dispersed from Nie Shi’s hand, yet the darkness in his eyes deepened. “You’re here?”
“Where else?” retorted the figure, tilting their head as if recalling something. “Qiao Ran said there’s no one guarding here?”
Nie Shi’s expression darkened.
“Did you think I was with him over there?” The figure furrowed their brows. “If you’ve come over here, then Fang…” Before the final words could leave their lips, Nie Shi had already leapt out of the window.
The figure exchanged a glance with the cat. “We’re on the fifth floor, aren’t we?”
“Zfbk~”
Moonlight cleaved through the shadows, and the hallway reverberated with a prolonged, mournful wail. The clack of high heels resonated once more, and the figure’s slashing implement gleamed with a silvery hue. Their gaze flickered towards Nie Shi outside the window, who had broken into a sprint, as they strolled and released a deep sigh.
“It’s time to work.”
In front of the rain-streaked window, Fang Chen lay prone on the floor, temples drenched with sweat. His vision was blurred, while his arms felt as if they were pierced by something, causing an indescribable agony, rendering him unable to even lift them up.
Glass shards, mud, rain, blood—a mosaic of crimson unfurled. His throat felt torn open, as if something desperate to escape surged forth, gushing out relentlessly—something in a black and red hue, pulsating… Fang Chen thought it was a heart. Someone cupped their hands around his ear, whispering that this was a sin instead.
He writhed within his dream; Lilies morphed into crimson as petal by petal came pouring down and burying him, as if admonishing: You cannot escape; you must atone for your sins through death!
Nie Shi vaulted from the window, drenched from head to toe. Water dripped from his black hair, and the moment he laid eyes on Fang Chen, his entire body tensed, unable to hide his sense of helplessness. With the injuries he sustained from jumping from the fifth floor not having healed immediately, he limped towards Fang Chen, each step lanced with pain, though he couldn’t feel it himself.
Fang Chen floundered amidst the maelstrom of jumbled memories. He stammered, words failing to articulate clearly, “I can’t remember who are you… I… Was I the one who killed you?”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, shattering the final veil of disguise, as ghastly bones surfaced in Nie Shi’s palm.
The last paragraph means what he rot so much and we can see his bones??
Thank you for your translation 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
thank you for the chapters!! <333