The boy named Pei Zhao seemed to be in a bad mood.
Qin Shu touched the beast horn growing larger and larger on his forehead and, for no particular reason, arrived at that conclusion.
He glanced at his visibly nervous aba, then at his ama’s glowing face. Afterward, he silently picked up his chopsticks, placed some food in his little sister’s bowl, and poured Pei Zhao a cup of milky-white Shanlan rice wine.
Elio’s Notes: Shanlan rice wine is a traditional wine of Hainan’s Li people, brewed from a local variety of upland glutinous rice. Fresh Shanlan wine may have the milky-white appearance described here and is traditionally served to honored guests.
As for the headless corpse sitting cross-legged in the corner and the round eyeball embedded in its severed neck… Qin Shu did his best to pretend neither existed, lest they ruin his appetite.
And so, precisely five people sat neatly around their family’s dining table that day.
Liu Yang Yang had already taken advantage of the confusion to flee the village, and Qin Shu had no idea what he had gone off to do. Meanwhile, Pei Zhao, who had been “summoned” through the bamboo altar, was welcomed into the house as an honored guest. Aba and Ama enthusiastically invited him to remain for their lavish lunch.
There was steamed sea fish, beef roasted inside bamboo, diced pork stir-fried with glutinous rice, white-cut young rooster, nearly half a golden-brown roast pig, and a rich slaughter-day soup generously filled with pig’s blood and intestines.
Qin Shu vaguely felt that he was not normally a picky eater and would probably have enjoyed all these dishes. The problem was that he currently had very little appetite…
After all, the Gui Gong’s hideous, blood-soaked head was still lying unattended in their courtyard!
“Eat some more, honored guest. Please, have more. We have plenty of wine and meat, so you may eat whatever you like. Or perhaps…” Ama paused halfway through her enthusiastic invitation and glanced toward the corpse in the corner. “We can prepare raoba huo too. If you still aren’t satisfied, I can stew you a fragrant pot of hegu lan. It’s wonderfully tender.”
Elio’s Notes: Raoba huo and hegu lan are historical euphemisms for human flesh recorded in accounts of famine-era cannibalism. Raoba huo referred to the flesh of thin, elderly men, believed to require extra cooking, while hegu lan referred to children’s tender flesh, supposedly soft enough to stew together with the bones. Ama’s offer is therefore far more horrifying than Qin Shu realizes.
Qin Shu could no longer understand what she was saying, but instinct told him that those could not possibly be pleasant words. Pei Zhao’s mood seemed to darken with every word Ama spoke.
Of course, Qin Shu could not say for certain what this mysterious boy who had emerged from the flames was thinking.
On the surface, Pei Zhao remained expressionless and revealed no emotion. He merely lowered his eyes and quietly drank cup after cup of Shanlan rice wine. Yet not the faintest flush or trace of color appeared on his beautiful face, which was so pale it was almost translucent.
His tolerance for alcohol was frighteningly high.
After a long while, Pei Zhao spoke coldly. “There’s no need. If you want your son back, simply say so.”
“Understood, understood!” Aba abruptly sat straighter and turned toward Qin Shu. “Kan-Ao, listen to our honored guest, understand? Stay with him today. Whatever he tells you to do, you do it!”
“All right.” Qin Shu cooperatively curved his lips into a smile and refilled Pei Zhao’s cup. “Pei Zhao, what do I need to do?”
“You need to see this story through to the end.” Pei Zhao watched him fill the cup, then obligingly picked it up and drained it in one swallow, though his answer remained vague. “Eat your fill. We’ll go into the mountain afterward.”
“I understand. Then… shouldn’t you eat some more too?” Qin Shu asked softly, as though something had occurred to him.
“I don’t like it.”
“All right. Then I’ll help myself!”
Qin Shu picked up his bowl and emptied the entire bamboo tube of roast beef into it, earning approving looks from his whole family. That approval even included little Fu Fu, who had been greedily eyeing the beef at first.
She suddenly stopped craving it. She no longer clamored for “Brother Kan to feed me.” Instead, her large, round, clear eyes shone with intense expectation and a strange tenderness, perfectly mirroring Aba and Ama.
The unnatural harmony surrounding the family made Qin Shu’s skin crawl. Without drawing attention to himself, he edged closer to Pei Zhao.
Although remembering the Gui Gong’s head was enough to turn his stomach, Pei Zhao smelled pleasant. Not a trace of smoke or scorched fire clung to him. The clean, refreshing scent somehow made Qin Shu feel steadier the longer he breathed it in.
Moreover, even though Pei Zhao looked difficult to provoke and his translucent white skin made him resemble a ghost… from a certain perspective, he was far more normal than Qin Shu’s “family.”
Most importantly, Pei Zhao was wearing the high school uniform Liu Yang Yang had mentioned. The words “Jiangcheng No. 2 High School” were sewn onto the label near his sleeve. Qin Shu had already sneaked a look. The familiar school uniform was practically the physical embodiment of safety and trust. There could be no doubt about it!
Qin Shu consequently ate with increasing enjoyment and concentration. No longer concerned with maintaining appearances, he replenished his strength and energy as quickly as possible. He had to admit that the village’s locally raised chicken, beef, pork, and tender fish were delicious regardless of how they were prepared. Everything tasted fresh and carried no strange odor, and he could tell from the first bite that none of it was human flesh, which inevitably put him much more at ease.
“Qin Shu, you can’t drink alcohol.”
“…Mm?”
Qin Shu had accidentally choked and was about to take a sip of Shanlan wine to soothe his throat when Pei Zhao suddenly stopped him. For some inexplicable reason, an unprecedented hint of helplessness appeared in those distant, icy eyes.
“You can’t drink today,” Pei Zhao repeated.
“That’s right, Kan-Ao. You must listen to our honored guest,” Aba and Ama said in perfect unison.
“Listen to the honored guest!” His little sister echoed, swaying her head from side to side.
The entire family made Qin Shu’s skin crawl. He nodded without saying anything and poured himself a cup of hot tea to settle his nerves.
Lunatics. This inexplicable, obsessive atmosphere really was contagious. I refused to become part of it.
Once everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, Aba and Ama swiftly cleared away the leftovers while preparing two sets of thick scarves and gloves.
The temperature outside Living Water Village was extremely low. Oppressive, rolling thunder still swept across the sky from time to time, frightening the villagers into scrambling indoors. The sun remained stubbornly concealed behind the clouds, and the sky had grown dim. It would be easy to suffer frostbite while climbing the mountain.
From that perspective alone, Qin Shu’s family was being rather considerate, so he did not refuse.
He had eaten a little too much and initially intended to play the obedient child by helping wash the dishes. However, his instincts warned him that he should never enter the family kitchen.
Qin Shu quickly changed his mind and went to the bathroom to wash his hands and face instead. The moment he opened the door and saw the grotesque black horn reflected in the mirror, he almost frightened himself all over again.
He looked like a murderer—or someone who had just fled the scene of a brutal killing. His hair was slightly disheveled, and the flesh on his forehead had been badly torn where the horn emerged. The blood flowing from the wound had already dried.
Dark-red droplets were scattered across the corners of his eyes and brows, while a long, startling trail of blood remained along one side of his face, running down his jawline and continuing over the side of his neck until it disappeared beneath his collar.
As for the beast horn… Qin Shu reached up and touched it. It was cold and hard, like some kind of metal blacker than ink, though faint rings of distinctive dark markings circled its surface and could only be detected beneath his fingertips. Its tip was more dangerous than any spear, glinting with such chilling sharpness that Qin Shu nearly cut himself.
Although the sight had genuinely startled him, the longer Qin Shu touched it, the more he realized that he did not dislike the horn at all.
It felt like his horn.
It looked unbelievably cool. Growing it had been a little torturous, but it really did look unbelievably cool!
Come to think of it, the horn itself was not what made him uncomfortable. The problem was his increasingly suspicious aba and ama.
The couple had completely ignored the horn’s existence. Before the meal, they had not even considered asking Qin Shu to wash the blood from his face. All their attention had been devoted to entertaining their honored guest, as though their son growing a horn from his forehead were nothing more than a trivial detail.
Little Fu Fu had initially seemed eager to ask questions, but after Ama gave her a single look, she obediently lowered her head and picked up her spoon to feed herself, no longer requiring her parents to chase after her with food.
This was far too strange. When Qin Shu had first awakened in an unfamiliar bed inside this house, he had been cautious, but his “family” had seemed relatively normal. They were simple, honest, and kind. Perhaps they were somewhat superstitious, but nothing had appeared seriously wrong with them, and they had been capable of ordinary conversation.
However, the truth had now become clear… Even the seemingly gentle Ama must have had some hidden objective behind this costly ritual. She had treated the Gui Gong with such warmth at first, yet after he died, she simply behaved as though nothing had happened. That was terrifying.
Then there were the strings of beads and necklaces polished from human bones inside the bedroom wardrobe. Qin Shu abruptly no longer wanted to remain here. The oppressive atmosphere was making it difficult to breathe.
He washed his face, quickly put on the scarf and gloves Aba and Ama had prepared, and wrapped the scarf around the lower half of his face. Under the family’s eager gazes, he took the initiative to hold Pei Zhao’s hand. Pei Zhao did not pull away, which meant he probably did not dislike physical contact very much. Surprisingly easy to get along with.
Qin Shu immediately hurried out of the house, keeping a firm hold on Pei Zhao as they headed toward the small mountain behind Living Water Village.
At the same time, the Gui Gong’s corpse, which had been sitting cross-legged in the corner, slowly rose to its feet and staggered after Qin Shu. The gray-white eyeball embedded in its severed neck rolled curiously in every direction, seemingly fascinated by everything in the village.
Little did it realize that it was the strangest and most sinister thing in the entire village.
Qin Shu gently squeezed Pei Zhao’s hand and asked cautiously in a low voice, “Excuse me, but is it really all right for that eyeball monster to follow us?”
“It’s your companion. It listens to you, and it isn’t a monster.” Pei Zhao seemed somewhat speechless as he raised his eyes and glanced at Qin Shu.
As Pei Zhao quietly explained, the faint impression that he was “in a bad mood” somehow became even more apparent.
“…My companion? That’s impressive.” Qin Shu froze briefly before turning to look back thoughtfully. “Little Eyeball, could you do a somersault for me?”
Thump—crash!
Pei Zhao had been right. The gray-white eyeball did indeed listen to Qin Shu and immediately attempted to obey without hesitation. Unfortunately, it had poor control over the corpse and was completely unfamiliar with operating it… so the attempt failed spectacularly.
The corpse had only completed half the somersault when its stiff body slammed heavily onto the road. Its lower leg snapped with a sharp crack, exposing half a length of white bone, while the impact nearly dislodged the eyeball from its neck.
The eyeball scrambled awkwardly upright and hurriedly shoved the protruding bone back into the torn flesh, looking exceptionally flustered.
Qin Shu: “…”
For some reason, this absurd spectacle, which left him with no idea how to react, actually improved Qin Shu’s mood. He did not merely find it ridiculous; he genuinely wanted to laugh.
He lowered his head slightly and looked at their gloved hands clasped together. Then he asked softly, “Pei Zhao, are we classmates?”
“Mm. Deskmates.”
“I see. Do you know where that dead person’s eyeball came from?”
“She was the victim of the dismemberment case at First Municipal Hospital—a vengeful ghost. You promised to help fulfill her final wish, so she followed you,” Pei Zhao answered in a muffled voice.
He seemed distracted by these topics. The outer corners of his eyes, which naturally tilted slightly upward, drooped lazily. Half his face gradually disappeared into the soft scarf, and even his voice became buried within it.
So cute. Qin Shu coughed lightly and resisted saying what he was actually thinking. “I see… Oh, right. Pei Zhao, do you know Liu Yang Yang?”
“I do. He’s a corpse herder.”
Qin Shu abruptly relaxed, and his thoughts became increasingly lively. “Pei Zhao, we must be especially close, right?”
Pei Zhao suddenly raised his eyes. His pale golden, glasslike irises stared unblinkingly at Qin Shu, like an alert little cat. “Why?”
“Mm, how should I put it? Intuition, I suppose. When I saw you walk out of the fire, I was genuinely a little afraid. My first instinct was to grab Ama and run. But if you had truly wanted to hurt me, running would have been useless, wouldn’t it? I might as well try speaking with you first and ask what you wanted.”
“Correct.” Pei Zhao nodded, continuing to stare as he waited for the rest.
Qin Shu smiled and kicked a few stones out of their path. “Pei Zhao is a beautiful name.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Zhao means brightness—the radiant light of the sun and moon. The moment I heard your name, I knew you couldn’t be some enormously evil ghost who came here to eat me.”
“…Twisted logic and groundless nonsense. You aren’t cautious enough.” Pei Zhao turned his gaze aside, his face expressionless. “If you continue trusting others so readily, a malicious ghost skilled at disguising itself will devour you without leaving so much as a scrap behind.”
“Wow, that sounds terrifying. But I still think you’re trustworthy, and you have a very good temper. You’re much more normal than the people in Living Water Village.”
Pei Zhao closed his eyes briefly before continuing. “That eyeball came to you in exactly the same way. She was a vengeful ghost who should have disappeared completely long ago, but you insisted on talking to her… and somehow talked her into becoming your Pokémon.”
“Hahahahaha…”
This time, Qin Shu genuinely could not hold back his laughter. It echoed along the dirt road at the edge of the village, drawing wary stares from the villagers behind their windows.
Many self-built houses stood at the foot of the mountain, spreading densely along its base in a pattern unique to a coastal fishing village. Except during the prime fishing season, when they needed to remain aboard their fishing boats, most villagers preferred living near the mountain.
The terrain there was higher and farther from the shore, protecting them from flooding during abnormal high tides. It was also convenient for collecting firewood, cutting fodder for pigs, and raising a few geese and chickens that could roam freely over the mountain. In every respect, it was a practical place to live.
Those details sounded perfectly ordinary, but while countless pairs of eyes watched Qin Shu in silence, he felt none of the cozy warmth of pastoral village life.
Those people’s eyes peered from shadowed windowsills, narrow cracks in doors, and behind heavy curtains…
Eyes with stark black pupils and white sclera, eyes of countless shapes, eyes filled with entirely different emotions…
They resembled kaleidoscopes, honeycomb-like wasp nests, and the countless tightly packed suckers covering an octopus’s tentacles.
Qin Shu instinctively touched the cold beast horn on his head, as though doing so could help him remain calm. He drew a deep breath and discovered that it actually worked. He therefore tried to ignore the villagers’ gazes and continued speaking quietly with Pei Zhao.
“Come to think of it, something is strange. So far, apart from the children, not one villager in Living Water Village has approached me or tried to speak with me. Do you know why?”
Pei Zhao nodded slightly and continued forward at an even pace, completely unconcerned by the unnatural gazes following them from the houses at the mountain’s foot.
His voice remained as calm as before, clear and cool like jade resting in snow. Yet an indescribably sinister quality gradually crept into it, sending a chill down Qin Shu’s neck and briefly stopping his breath.
“Because they already know. Every one of them can tell—Qin Shu, you’re an outsider.”
Leave a Reply