Chapter 25

Chapter 24: Shan Hai 2

“Crack, crack”—the sound kept going.

Blood mixed with the hot water from the shower, white mist and blood flowing out of the bathroom door.

Seeing this, Shi Zong temporarily turned off the flashlight and quietly stepped closer to the bathroom.

At that moment, the back of his hand tingled, and he received a red-line storyline prompt—

【The scene before you is terrifying. You try to convince yourself it’s just stress and hallucination. Just sleep until morning, and these hallucinations will disappear!】

【Player Shi Zong, return to your room and sleep immediately until tomorrow morning.】

It seemed the system had imposed a limit on how deeply players could explore.

How to break this limit?

Shi Zong quickly had an idea in his mind.

But tonight, it would have to wait.

He had to leave for now.

On the way back to his room, Shi Zong saw an amusing scene—

The two chefs appeared again.

They pushed a large cart filled with the aroma of meat and wine, stopping in front of the room of the very cute Second Female.

One of them stepped forward, knocked on the door respectfully, and said: “Miss, good evening. This is your late-night snack.”

The Second Female still hadn’t eaten enough?

How could she possibly eat so much?

Shi Zong didn’t have time to ponder; his hand tingled again.

Under the system’s urging, he had no choice but to quickly return to his room to sleep.

The next morning at seven, Shi Zong was woken by the “caw caw caw” of a crow.

Getting up, he pushed open the door and saw that Zuo Sanqiu, in the form of a crow, had flown out from an empty room diagonally opposite.

Not only Shi Zong, but all the cast members were awakened by the crow’s calls and soon appeared in the hallway.

Because it was a circular hallway, everyone quickly made eye contact.

The director waved first. “Everyone awake? Wash up, and meet in the dining hall in half an hour! After breakfast, we’ll start the next round of script reading.”

The charming Female Lead glanced at everyone, shyly covering her face. “I didn’t expect the crow’s cawing to wake everyone up. I haven’t done my makeup yet. This is so embarrassing. Director, half an hour isn’t enough for my makeup. Could you wait a little longer for me?”

The Second Female followed up. She wiped her mouth, seeming to swipe at saliva, and said: “Director, I don’t need half an hour. Five minutes is enough! Can I go to the dining hall earlier and eat more?”

“Fine, fine. Whatever you want,” the director said good-naturedly. “But I don’t care when you eat. The reading must start by 10 a.m. at the latest! This place is expensive to rent, and we only have three days. Tomorrow afternoon, the script must be finalized, and everyone’s portrayal must be decided!

“For the Male Lead’s ending, Editor hasn’t made a decision yet—whether he dies in hell, how, and by whose hand, we’ll decide together.

“Everyone is in character now; fully immerse and discuss to get the most satisfying result.”

Shi Zong remained silent but keenly noticed the key sentence—the three-day limit determines the Male Lead’s ending.

Could this be the hidden time limit?

Exceed it, and the default storyline’s deceased character would die?

After washing up, Shi Zong left his room and quickly went to the Male Lead’s room, played by He Zhen.

After knocking a few times, He Zhen came out, towel-drying his hair, clearly having just showered.

The system could shape a player’s in-game character based on their real-life appearance, force tone and expression during certain story segments, and imbue special temperament for maximum immersion.

Under this influence, He Zhen had pale, cold skin and eyes filled with extreme despondency, giving him a fragile, almost crystalline broken charm.

Water dripped down his forehead from wet hair, emphasizing his pale, desolate aura—a very specific dark charm.

Shi Zong glanced at him. “You seem to shower quite frequently. Last night, in the middle of the night, and again this morning?”

He Zhen looked surprised. “Last night? Did you come into my room? How would I know?”

Shi Zong detected something. “Do you not remember me entering your room, or you don’t remember entering the bathroom to shower?”

He Zhen shook his head. “I don’t know either. In my memory, after the script reading ended, I was tired, went to my room, and slept. Then I woke up this morning, disturbed by the crow’s cawing.”

Shi Zong didn’t press and stepped closer. “Show me your hand.”

He Zhen: “?”

Shi Zong didn’t explain. “Let me see your hand.”

He Zhen asked: “Which one?”

Shi Zong said flatly: “Left hand.”

“Alright.”

He Zhen held out his left hand, palm open, and asked, “How do you want to examine it?”

Shi Zong grabbed his wrist and held it under his eyes, examining all five fingernails carefully.

He turned the hand over, pinched the thumb, studying the fingerprint, then examined the index and middle fingers repeatedly.

When releasing He Zhen’s hand, Shi Zong glanced at him. “You seem upset?”

He Zhen shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Really?” Shi Zong asked. “Your memory’s chaotic too, right? You don’t remember your name, mine, or past events completely?”

He Zhen nodded.

Shi Zong asked: “Last night, at the end of the script reading, we made eye contact. Did you remember anything then?”

He Zhen shook his head, looking at Shi Zong strangely.

It was unclear if he misunderstood something.

Shi Zong just asked: “Really nothing?”

He Zhen shook his head. “After the reading, I just glanced at you. If I had to explain, it was to check if you and the director were satisfied with my performance. I looked at you, but I also looked at the director. My gaze was pure, nothing deeper. I really don’t remember anyone’s names, but just glancing at you didn’t make me recall anything.”

Shi Zong fell silent.

After a while, He Zhen asked: “Scriptwriter, anything else?”

Shi Zong asked back: “Do you have plans tonight?”

He Zhen shook his head. “None. Why?”

“Wait for me in your room tonight.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Just discuss the script.”

After chatting, He Zhen went downstairs first to the dining hall.

Shi Zong silently watched his back, but his mind lingered on the left hand—

The same hand he had seen under He Zhen’s bed last night.

So the severed hand belonged to He Zhen.

Then what about the eyeball and foot that rolled out of the bathroom?

Could they have come from He Zhen?

If He Zhen wasn’t lying… why does he have no memory of last night?

He doesn’t look injured at all.

What happened to him?

Shi Zong pondered, when a strange voice came from behind—

“You were acting weird just now.

Touching someone’s hand back and forth. They just glanced at you, and you think it meant something. Sneaking into their room last night and now under the guise of script discussion…

Scriptwriter, you’re not trying to seduce the Male Lead, are you?”

Shi Zong turned and unsurprisingly saw Zuo Sanqiu in crow form.

Even as a crow, he talked so much.

Shi Zong asked: “So you can speak human?”

Zuo Sanqiu: “……”

I feel like you’re insulting me.

But I have no proof.

Flapping his wings twice, Zuo Sanqiu hurriedly said: “Don’t get me wrong! I’m not talking about you personally! I’m just wondering if the role of a scriptwriter is gay? Eek…

“Good thing I didn’t get your role!”

Shi Zong looked at him in surprise. “So, between being gay and being a beast, you’d rather be a beast? Your homophobia is severe.”

Zuo Sanqiu: “…………”

Shi Zong asked: “What’s really going on with you?”

Zuo Sanqiu indignantly: “You insulted me, so I’m not telling you.”

Shi Zong gave up asking and just turned to go downstairs.

Zuo Sanqiu was stunned for a moment, then quickly flapped his wings and followed. “Uh, isn’t it…aren’t you curious why I’m a crow?

“Come on, ask! Maybe I can reluctantly answer.

“Perhaps my story will help you piece together the whole plot!”

Shi Zong continued to ignore him.

Zuo Sanqiu steeled himself and landed on his shoulder. “This isn’t like you. Last time in the dungeon, you tried every way to get me to talk. Try harder this time!”

Shi Zong said calmly: “You flew over on purpose. It’s impossible that it was because you foresaw I would talk to the Male Lead and just wanted to eavesdrop. That means you have questions, or some doubt urgently needing my explanation.

“Besides, I really have no questions for you. So now it should be you begging me to listen to your story, so I can help resolve your doubts.”

Zuo Sanqiu: “…”

Why did he feel like Shi Zong had him completely figured out?

After a moment of silence, Zuo Sanqiu spoke before Shi Zong entered the banquet hall. “In my story, I don’t know why I became a crow. I always feel I should be very similar to you. Seeing you gives me a great sense of familiarity.

“Does this imply I’m actually human, just like you?

“I used to be human. Then I offended someone and was turned into a crow? Could someone among us possess magic?”

“The dungeon just started. Let’s wait and see.”

Shi Zong glanced at his shoulder. “Tell me, I saw you fly out from the room diagonally opposite me this morning. Were you staying there last night?”

Zuo Sanqiu nodded. “Yes. In my perception, I should be like you, living in a room for humans. I flew around the hallway once and, guided by intuition, entered my current room.”

Shi Zong asked again: “Do you have any intent to kill me?”

“No. Really no. I don’t even know who I am. I don’t know you at all.”

At this, crow-form Zuo Sanqiu flapped his wings twice, then belatedly realized—

Wait, wasn’t I supposed to be asking him questions? Why has he been asking all along?

Didn’t he just say he had no questions for me?

After a while, the players started breakfast in the banquet hall.

The Second Female was the earliest to arrive and lingered until the very end, unwilling to leave.

After breakfast came the long, unavoidable red-line storyline—the script reading session.

The three-day script reading wasn’t in chronological order.

Last night, everyone read the ending.

In that segment, the Male Lead, thinking he was happy after rebirth, discovers he’s in hell, continuously tortured by family and lovers.

This morning’s session focused on the Male Lead’s experiences immediately after “rebirth.”

After rebirth, he depends on his sister, struggles with a close friend, encounters his wife due to work, and feels life full of hope again.

After the actors read through the script, the Female Lead, played by Zhang Qijun, spoke.

“Director, I have a suggestion. This part of the story is a bit flat. Add some melodrama; it’s more enjoyable that way.

“I think the Male Lead’s close friend should also fall for Female Lead Yanyan. Two men fighting over one woman—that’s more dramatic.”

The director thought for a moment and looked at Shi Zong. “Scriptwriter, we do have to consider box office. Some realistic melodrama might appeal more to the audience. Do you agree?”

To Shi Zong, the script was fantastical, with no commercial elements; audience appeal and box office were irrelevant.

He only followed the system’s lines in his mind: “The Male Lead kills his wife and close friend—that main plot stays. I don’t care about the other details.

“If you want to modify it, fine. I won’t write lines. Director, set a scene, let the actors perform. They’re already in character; improvisation will be more natural.”

The Female Lead smiled, casually tossing her hair, a faint fragrance wafting out, almost dizzying.

Every gesture and movement radiated charm, perfectly suited for the role.

Because the wife was so bewitching, the Male Lead mistook her for the reason his path of cultivation was hindered.

She winked at the handsome Male Lead, then at the Second Male.

Her attraction to the Male Lead made sense—he was quite good-looking.

But the actor playing the Second Male was grotesque, with no obvious advantage…

Why would she try to seduce him too?

Was it her character’s nature to try to charm everyone she sees?

At that moment, Shi Zong noticed the Female Lead also glanced at the very cute Second Female.

The two girls met eyes for a moment; the Second Female blushed and quickly looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

Seeing this, Shi Zong raised an eyebrow, noticing the Female Lead’s gaze shift toward him.

Fortunately, the director interrupted in time.

He asked Shi Zong: “Scriptwriter, what’s your plan for the Male Lead’s ending? I envisioned several options—

“First, the Male Lead continues to suffer in hell. His future is left to the audience’s imagination—a open ending.

“Second, the Male Lead has endured enough punishment and is reborn as a human, but lives miserably in the next life.

“Third, the Male Lead wakes up, realizing it was all a dream…”

At this point, Shi Zong received no line prompts.

The system allowed him free expression.

This is similar to an ending choice—the answer doesn’t affect story progression or completion, but determines the type of Knight Badge.

Shi Zong quickly said: “For the Male Lead, the best ending is that he didn’t actually commit suicide.

“Before he attempted suicide, he dreamt of rebirth. In the dream, reborn, he starts anew, but ends up being torn apart by lover, friend, and family.

“He then realizes—if laying down the knife can’t save him, he may as well fully fall into the path of demonhood. Perhaps this is his destiny.

“If he cannot ascend as a savior, then he may as well become a world-ending demon.

“Where there is light, there is shadow. Where there is killing, there is salvation. Without world-ending demons, how could gods or immortals accomplish their feats?

“Demons grow powerful by killing, gods and immortals gain experience by killing demons… this is the law of the world, a natural hierarchy. Demons are indispensable.”

Shi Zong’s words silenced the players and NPCs alike.

Everyone stared at him, curious if this was from the system or his own thought.

Zuo Sanqiu thought Shi Zong’s worldview was utterly twisted.

After much thought, he could only come up with: “Killing is wrong.”

After giving his opinion, Shi Zong sipped his tea.

He felt a gaze, looked up, and met He Zhen’s eyes.

He Zhen seemed temporarily out of character, overlapping with himself.

Through the beautiful, despondent actor’s visage, Shi Zong saw the clear-eyed youth studying him, as if to discern what kind of person spoke such words.

He Zhen’s brows and eyes carried undeniable authority, as if born to sit on the judgment seat.

Shi Zong felt he was the demon under judgment, or perhaps he was the demon, and He Zhen the immortal achieving ascension by demon-slaying.

The jade pendant on his chest stirred.

Shi Zong’s heart leapt as a vision appeared—

A pitch-dark hall, illuminated by cold blue flames. A man kneels, another at the front wears a bronze mask.

The masked man exudes natural authority, holding a whip high. Coldly: “Full of excuses, I see you’re beyond saving!”

“Whish”—the whip cut through the air.

The power of the whip could almost tear the soul apart in one strike.

The kneeling man instinctively straightened his back.

Shi Zong did the same.

The illusion vanished; before him was the lively banquet hall.

The whip hadn’t struck him, yet chills ran through his spine, as if it were real.

Exhaling lightly, Shi Zong glanced at He Zhen thoughtfully, then smiled indifferently, withdrawing his gaze.

After the morning session, everyone had lunch in the banquet hall.

The Second Female ate the most.

She even finished an entire roasted lamb leg by herself.

After lunch, everyone returned to their rooms on the fifth floor for a nap.

This was a red-line storyline. Shi Zong could do nothing but lie idly on the bed.

It wasn’t until 3 p.m. that he received a new red-line storyline—

In the afternoon, the slanting sunlight passed through the fifth-floor windows, casting long lines across the ancient castle.

A knock at the door. Upon opening, the scriptwriter saw the graceful Female Lead in the half-dark, half-bright, hallucinatory light.

She tilted her head, studying the scriptwriter.

Playing with her hair, wearing bright red lipstick, like a charming little demon.

Whether a scriptwriter focused solely on words could be seduced by her was another question.

“Scriptwriter, I have some thoughts about the script.”

“See, do you want to invite me in for a cup of coffee? We can drink and chat at the same time?”

Zhang Qijun himself looked plain and had an ordinary temperament, but the system influenced his micro-expressions and demeanor, transforming him entirely into the enchanting Female Lead of the story, as if easily capable of stirring hearts.

【Player Shi Zong, you can choose “Invite the Female Lead in,” or “Refuse her.”】

【Your choice may influence the plot direction.】

What the Female Lead said was clearly a tacit invitation.

A player with a weak will might indeed be charmed and invite her in.

Shi Zong, however, felt nothing.

In the real world, he had no sense of taste and a very faint perception of emotion.

In the game, it improved slightly. He could taste food, and when transformed into Jiang Wan’er recognizing Ye Yunfeng, he felt some inner stirrings.

Yet in the end, he cut off the emotional connection without hesitation.

This shows his susceptibility to emotional influence was extremely limited.

Moreover, Shi Zong was curious about the Female Lead’s intentions, hoping to uncover her story.

But he guessed that if he entered the room, she would inevitably make advances.

He disliked others’ proactive closeness and simply gave up.

Judging by her behavior at the table, she seemed to try to seduce everyone.

So if he refused her, she would certainly go seduce someone else.

If he wanted her story, he could just ask the person directly.

Thus Shi Zong said: “Afternoon is break time. I don’t want to talk. We can discuss it during the evening meeting.”

Hearing this, the Female Lead looked at him with a mix of shyness and anger, as if scolding him for being unromantic.

But she didn’t linger and soon turned and left.

Shi Zong didn’t close the door immediately.

He watched to see whose room the Female Lead would go to next.

In the sun-split castle, the Female Lead twisted her waist, radiating charm as she walked to a room and stopped—

It was the room of the Male Lead played by He Zhen.

Moments later, Shi Zong watched as He Zhen opened the door, whispered with the Female Lead for a while, and let her in.

The Male Lead’s door shut tightly.

Shi Zong stared at the door for several seconds, glanced at his hand to confirm no red-line plot had triggered, and then walked toward the room where Crow Zuo Sanqiu was.

He knocked. Sure enough, Zuo Sanqiu in crow form was inside.

Shi Zong immediately surveyed the room; its furnishings were no different from other rooms.

“Where do you sleep?” he asked Zuo Sanqiu.

Zuo Sanqiu sighed helplessly. “I hold onto the bedpost. I’m so miserable. This script is ridiculous.

“Honestly, I’m worried I might be the deceased. Some magic user turned me into a crow. Next step? Are they going to kill me?”

“Your concern is reasonable.”

Shi Zong looked at him. “So I’m here to help you.”

Zuo Sanqiu’s eyes lit up. “How do I avoid death?”

“Two people are highly suspicious. Watch them.”

Shi Zong brought Zuo Sanqiu to the hallway, raising his chin toward the Male Lead’s room. “The Female Lead has been inside for five minutes.”

“This Female Lead has maximum charm. Even I, a crow, get flustered by her gaze. Alone together in a room…won’t the Male Lead lose control?”

Zuo Sanqiu blinked several times.

“I say, this system really doesn’t play fair. Suppose there really is that kind of scene—does it expect the player to actually… you know?

“The freshman is just a clean, good boy. He won’t get… handled, right?

“Wait…oh god, Zhang Qijun is male. If it were me, I’d kill this damn system…”

Shi Zong remained expressionless. “You’re a crow; tailing them is convenient for you. Watch them, and tell me when they come out.”

Worried about being the deceased, Zuo Sanqiu flew out, hiding in the corridor to monitor the Male Lead’s room.

Shi Zong planned to explore other floors.

But upon reaching the stairway, the system prompted him to return to his room to rest.

Moreover, when he tried to knock on He Zhen’s door, he was again prompted to leave. He had no choice but to stop.

Shi Zong received Zuo Sanqiu’s next update at 5:50 p.m.

Landing on Shi Zong’s left shoulder, Zuo Sanqiu whispered, “The Female Lead just left the Male Lead’s room. Every step she takes twists her waist. Nearly three hours—what are they doing?

“Thinking about it carefully, this is a detective game. The system wouldn’t be that perverse. So…are they plotting something?

“All other players are alone. Only they met. Maybe they’re on the same side.”

Shi Zong didn’t answer, heading to the restaurant.

“Eat, attend the third script reading. Other matters later.”

Zuo Sanqiu asked, “Other matters later? How do you plan to find out? You look confident—have you devised some scheme again?”

Shi Zong’s tone was incredulous. “I have no scheme. I’ll just ask the Male Lead directly.”

Zuo Sanqiu: “…”

That night, nearing midnight, Shi Zong entered He Zhen’s room under the pretext of discussing the script.

He asked directly, “What were you and the Female Lead doing this afternoon?”

He Zhen replied calmly, “Discussing the script.”

“Discussing the script for three hours?”

“You calculated so exactly. Were you tailing?”

“Not exactly.”

Shi Zong didn’t hide it. Sitting in a chair, chin in hand, he studied He Zhen thoughtfully. “It’s fine if you don’t want to say now. We have the whole night.”

He Zhen seemed slightly surprised. “You’re staying here tonight?”

“Yes,” Shi Zong said. “I’ve already showered. Do as you please.”

His tone made him seem like the host, while He Zhen became the guest.

He Zhen asked, “Only one bed. Where will you sleep?”

“I won’t fight a kid for it,” Shi Zong said. “You sleep. I’ll just watch you from here.

“Wasn’t I planning the ending so the Male Lead discovers his punishment in hell was just a dream? I need to design his body language during the dream, etc.

“I can’t imagine it out of thin air. I need inspiration, so I’m observing your sleeping posture. You see, me staying here tonight is for the project.”

This last part forcibly used his role to trigger a red-line storyline.

Worried the system might expel him like last night, he needed a strong reason to stay.

Shi Zong succeeded.

Tonight, as the focused, project-driven scriptwriter guarding the Male Lead’s room, the system did not expel him.

Meanwhile, He Zhen didn’t realize that “observing” really meant staring.

After showering and lying in bed, He Zhen found Shi Zong sitting lazily in the armchair, chin in hand, silently watching him.

The in-story scriptwriter seemed neurotic, scruffy, untidy, and despondent.

Yet Shi Zong’s striking features lent a special aura to the character.

Moonlight accentuated his silver-white skin.

He sat quietly, eyes deep and calculating, like a nocturnal, predatory spirit studying where to strike.

Meeting He Zhen’s gaze, Shi Zong smiled faintly. “Pretend I don’t exist. Go to sleep.”

He Zhen: “…”

His expression was briefly indescribable.

But he soon closed his eyes and slept.

This person had been fully cooperative from start to finish.

Truly like an obedient 18-year-old freshman.

Thinking this, Shi Zong’s face remained expressionless, eyes faintly cold.

He couldn’t help wondering if He Zhen’s behavior meant he was hiding something.

Could he be the culprit trying to harm him?

On the bed, He Zhen initially didn’t sleep.

Being watched by Shi Zong, he felt no drowsiness.

However, at midnight, under system control, he fell asleep uncontrollably.

On the sofa opposite, Shi Zong stared without blinking.

By 12:10, he saw He Zhen stand like a wandering soul, eyes opening.

His eyes looked hollow, his walk stiff, like a living corpse.

With slow, heavy steps, He Zhen, eyes vacant, walked to the bathroom.

Shi Zong squinted, quickly removed his shoes, and followed silently.

At the bathroom door, he saw He Zhen pull a knife from the cabinet under the sink.

Holding the knife, He Zhen approached the bathtub, then turned on the shower and began undressing.

Shi Zong didn’t want to miss any detail, standing at the bathroom door, staring at the scene in the tub without blinking—

Scalding white steam suddenly rose.

He Zhen, somewhat stiff and wooden, took off his shirt in the mist.

Water droplets ran down his hair, jaw, and collarbones, tracing the defined lines of his waist and abdomen, gradually soaking his pants.

Soon, He Zhen bent down and removed his pants, sitting naked in the bathtub in a semi-reclined position.

Next, he picked up the knife.

Gripping the handle with his right hand, he chopped his left wrist with precision and force, and his left hand was severed.

The bloody severed hand was caught by his right hand, then he casually threw it toward the door. It arced through the air and landed, sliding under the bed.

From start to finish, He Zhen’s expression was as blank as a corpse.

He seemed unconscious, feeling no pain.

After cutting off his left hand himself, he numbly raised the knife in his right hand and pressed the blade against his ear.

The bathtub, roughly a third full, quickly turned red with blood.

He Zhen’s naked body, soaked in blood, made his face appear especially pale and his eyes especially dark.

With a splash, he cut off his right ear, and the spurting blood finally stained his flawless face red.

Covered in blood, eyes pitch-black, expressionless, He Zhen looked like a vengeful ghost from hell seeking a life—but it was his own life he sought.

—He was methodically cutting off his limbs, stripping his flesh, severing his organs…

This was an extremely horrifying and gory self-execution.

Before long, a single eyeball and a few toes lay on the floor a short distance ahead of Shi Zong.

The bathtub had overflowed.

Crimson water spread layer by layer across the floor, staining Shi Zong’s bare feet red.

Looking further, nearly half of He Zhen’s flesh had been stripped from his body, the other half a blood-soaked skeleton. It looked like the skeleton would soon crumble.

Shi Zong did not find the scene terrifying.

Instead, he found it interesting and familiar.

It was as if he had once been treated this way himself.

He could feel that this memory didn’t come from the story’s “scriptwriter” but seemed to originate from himself.

Could it be true, what the person called “Mingyue” said in the dream?

I once committed grave crimes, so severe that I went to hell and suffered extreme punishment?

Then why am I still alive?

What kind of world am I in now?

Watching this scene in the bathroom, Shi Zong felt both fascination and familiarity, and also, unusually, pain and hatred.

He seemed to hate the sensation of his body being torn apart alive.

Thus, seeing He Zhen dismembering himself, a secret pleasure stirred in his heart.

He was eager to see He Zhen cut the other half of his flesh into pieces.

For the first time, he recognized with absolute clarity that he was truly a heartless, cold-blooded, and pathological monster.

In these eight months of memory, no family or old friends had come to him.

Perhaps it was really because they had all severed ties with him.

Under the moonlight shadow, Shi Zong’s expression became complex.

The look he gave He Zhen mixed pain, hatred, delight, and pleasure…

Even he could barely trace the origin of these rare emotions.

“Snap.”

“Snap, snap.”

…

The rest of He Zhen’s flesh finally peeled from the skeleton.

In the end, the knife almost seemed to act on its own, slicing flesh and separating veins without control.

The entire bathroom was drenched in red.

It seemed even the moonlight outside was tinged crimson.

After a while, a rustling sound arose.

Pieces of flesh, eyeballs, and severed limbs crawled across the floor.

They seemed alive, moving in unison toward the bathtub.

A bloodied eyeball rolled, flew up, and fitted into its socket; more flesh followed, reconstructing He Zhen’s right eye.

Next, the left eye, high nose bridge, thin lips—all reappeared on his face.

Pale, handsome, cold, and sharp features regenerated, followed by the neck, shoulders, and chest flesh…

Veins reconnected, severed limbs reassembled.

He Zhen thus became whole again.

Then he opened his eyes, stood from the bathtub, and gradually dried his naked body with a towel before dressing, still walking with a corpse-like expression toward the bedroom.

Finally, he lay on the bed, eyes closed, facing the sofa chair as if he had never left.

4:30 a.m. Dawn broke.

Beneath the cliff where the castle stood, the dark sea gradually lit.

He Zhen opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Shi Zong watching him in the dawn light.

That gaze seemed complicated.

But when He Zhen sat up, Shi Zong’s gaze was purely gentle and focused.

He Zhen frowned, a bit puzzled. “What time is it? You didn’t… watch me all night, did you?”

“Mm.” Shi Zong raised a hand, extended a long pale finger, and lightly touched He Zhen’s nose tip with the icy fingertip.

He Zhen stiffened, shoulders and spine tightening.

Then he saw Shi Zong tilt his head slightly, smiling at him in a tone both inscrutable and slightly teasing: “Good morning, beauty.”

Perhaps feeling offended, He Zhen immediately furrowed his brows and stood up. “What did you see last night?”

Shi Zong withdrew his hand, eyes still lingering with a hint of nostalgia, as if recalling a certain scene.

He then smiled lightly. “I saw a beautiful scene.”

“A beautiful scene? What scene?”

“I’ll go back to sleep for a while. If you really want to know, trade it for your conversation with the Female Lead this afternoon.”

Shi Zong rose expressionless and left the Male Lead’s room directly.

The door opened and closed behind him.

With his departure, the room seemed to lose some warmth.

He Zhen stared at the closed door for a long while. Realizing it, he found his hand had unconsciously lifted, touching the tip of his nose that Shi Zong had just touched.

Author’s note:

This chapter is rich enough, right?

The way to please Xiao Shi seems a bit bloody. @He Zhen