Chapter 22

Punishment?

A not-so-distant memory surfaced.

On Du Island, in Guan Heng’s room, bathed in the warm light of the fireplace, Guan Heng had once made Ning Qiuyan repeat his request.

On that day, Guan Heng made it clear to Ning Qiuyan that there could never be a next time-otherwise, he wouldn’t want to know what the punishment was.

They had made an agreement.

It was only now that Ning Qiuyan belatedly realized that his actions today had completely violated that agreement.

He hadn’t answered Guan Heng’s calls, hadn’t replied to his messages, had even turned off his phone, and most importantly, he hadn’t listened to Guan Heng and gone home. Although the situation at the time had not been under his control, from the moment he followed Ray into danger, he was already in the wrong.

For some reason, Guan Heng’s words temporarily pulled Ning Qiuyan out of his horrifying experience.

Although his shattered worldview was still trembling, and the Monster still tugged at his nerves, he was no longer able to focus all his attention on thinking about that matter.

It was as if, to Guan Heng, this was not something worth making a fuss about.

Even if Ning Qiuyan had discovered their secret, the situation was still under their control.

Lu Qianque took the phone back from Ning Qiuyan, said a few more words, and then hung up.

Then, Lu Qianque said to him, “Get up, pack your things, we have to go now.”

Lu Qianque acted as naturally as if he were inviting him out for a stroll, not different at all from how he was before. Ning Qiuyan couldn’t help but suspect again that today had been nothing but a dream, that nothing had really happened at all.

He rolled his eyes, a little dejectedly, and asked Lu Qianque, “Where are we going?”

Unfortunately, Lu Qianque shattered his last illusion: “Where else? Of course, I’m taking you to escape for your life.”

Ning Qiuyan lay on the sofa without moving, as if he hadn’t understood what Lu Qianque meant-why did they have to run for their lives?

So Lu Qianque made it even clearer: “That thing escaped, didn’t it?”

Ning Qiuyan shuddered.

Now he was truly certain that Lu Qianque knew his every move, knew exactly where he had been and what he had seen, and wasn’t surprised at all.

In other words, Lu Qianque really was, as he had guessed, the same kind of being as the Monster.

They knew he had discovered their secret.

Lu Qianque said, “Its intelligence isn’t high-in fact, you could say it has none-but it’s extremely lethal, not easy to kill, and very vengeful. It’s seen you and smelled your scent. You aren’t safe here.”

“I could call the police,” he said warily.

Lu Qianque couldn’t help but smile, but quickly put his smile away.

His skin looked cool-toned in the light, and his expression became serious.

“I’m sorry to tell you, the police in Wutong can’t handle things like this,” Lu Qianque told him. “Just like a wolf will remember who set a trap for it, it will remember everyone who hurt it, including bystanders. I could protect you, the bystander, but unfortunately, I don’t know where it is, or when it will come, and I can’t be with you twenty-four hours a day.”

Seeing his expression change, Lu Qianque added, “So I have to take you to escape. According to Mr. Guan’s instructions, I’ll take you to Du Island immediately.”

Ning Qiuyan: “…”

Why did he feel that both sides were equally dangerous? Both were truly terrifying for him.

As he spoke, Lu Qianque stood up and walked around the room, looking for something.

Very soon, he took a coat from the rack behind the door and tossed it onto Ning Qiuyan: “Change out of your dirty clothes to change your scent, and come with me immediately.”

Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Ning Qiuyan sat up from the sofa.

He recalled what had happened today, knowing that Lu Qianque wasn’t exaggerating, and remembered every person who had seen the Monster at the scene-excluding one dead and one injured, there were still three lives.

“What about Ray and the others?” he asked hurriedly. “Will it hunt them down too?”

“You’re still worried about other people,” Lu Qianque said coldly. “Of course it’ll hunt them too. Do you think it would only go for someone as cute as you?”

Ning Qiuyan was in no mood to joke and said, “I want to warn them.”

Lu Qianque replied, “Sorry, I’m only responsible for your safety. If your friend really gets bitten tonight, then I’ll just have to go to the trouble of having someone take care of him.”

“Take care of him?”

“Kill him, dismember him, feed him to dogs, whatever works-as long as the body disappears.”

Although Ray and the others were not Ning Qiuyan’s friends, and he disdained associating with them, when he heard Lu Qianque say this, his heart still trembled lightly, and he shivered.

Although he liked to joke around, Lu Qianque had always given Ning Qiuyan the impression of being warm and enthusiastic.

But suddenly, he felt that only tonight did he truly know the real Lu Qianque.

The other’s words and actions were still elegant and cultured, but in their casualness there was an unmistakable indifference to life, especially toward those lives they did not much care for.

Why hadn’t he noticed this before?

“I still want to call the police…” Ning Qiuyan couldn’t bring himself to just do nothing, and tried to suggest to Lu Qianque, “Anyway, what they did was enough to keep them at the police station for days. Maybe the police could catch it then.”

Lu Qianque: “No, I already told you, the police in Wutong can’t handle this.”

Ning Qiuyan blurted out, “Then ask Mr. Guan-”

“This is Mr. Guan’s decision, I’m just passing it on,” Lu Qianque said, looking at him. “If it were up to me, I’d go and tear their throats out right now.”

Tear their throats out.

Lu Qianque had never revealed his identity before, but these words sounded like a hint.

And Ning Qiuyan was smart enough not to say another word after hearing this.

*

It was only seven or eight o’clock at night when they left the house. There were still many people coming and going in the residential neighborhood. Some neighbors greeted Ning Qiuyan, asking if Lu Qianque was his friend. Distracted, he couldn’t even remember if he answered them or not.
They walked beneath the bare plane trees, stepping on snow marked by a jumble of footprints, leaving behind two lines of human tracks, indistinguishable from each other.

The cold wind blew in waves.

Ning Qiuyan grew colder with every step, nearly curling up into a ball.

Lu Qianque wore only formal attire, his back straight, seemingly unaffected by the frigid weather.

His elegant stride was silent, like a specter gliding through the night.

Guan Heng gave Ning Qiuyan the same impression.

He often wore thin clothes, could walk barefoot in the snow, and the stove in his house was never needed.

They came by night, and left by night.

All because they were of the same kind.

As they passed through the bushes, Lu Qianque had a close encounter with an Orange Cat.

Lu Qianque paused, lowered his head to look at the Orange Cat, which immediately bristled, letting out a fearful, piercing screech from its throat, retreating continuously.

This stray cat was cared for by the residents, usually very friendly. It was the first time Ning Qiuyan had seen it act as if facing a mortal enemy.

Even cats could sense the otherness, but he could not.

Lu Qianque let out a low, deep growl, and the cat instantly darted into the bushes and disappeared.

Ning Qiuyan considered escaping while Lu Qianque was confronting the cat.

“Little thing,” Lu Qianque said indifferently, then, as if nothing had happened, turned to Ning Qiuyan and said, “This way.”

Lu Qianque’s car was parked on a relatively quiet road.

It was a sleek black sedan, so expensive that passersby couldn’t help but glance at it.

The driver got out to open the door for them, addressing Lu Qianque as “Young Master,” with a subtle sense of old-fashioned formality.

Lu Qianque courteously invited Ning Qiuyan to get in first, like a gentleman from the Middle Ages.

They got in, and the car sped out of the city.

*

Wutong was bustling at night, neon lights casting colorful spots of light, reflected in puddles on the road and in shop windows.

The streets were somewhat congested, cars busy heading home after work, stopping and starting.

Amidst the dazzling lights, the nightscape retreated outside the car window. Lu Qianque sat on the left side of the back seat, turned his head and asked, “Little Puppy, what are you looking at?”

Ning Qiuyan quickly turned his face away.

He was watching to see if Lu Qianque was breathing.

To be honest, because the car was moving, it was hard to tell.

Legend had it that they were beings without breath or heartbeat, immortal because they were already dead.

Ning Qiuyan tried to confirm this, but to little effect.

Since getting in the car, he had been secretly observing Lu Qianque, and also the driver in the front. He only confirmed that Lu Qianque could sit in one position for a long time, could go ages without blinking, and could maintain a dignified posture at all times-unhurried, calm, and composed.

In this, Guan Heng and Lu Qianque were different.

Guan Heng was much more laid-back.

“What are you worried about?” Lu Qianque didn’t expose his observation, but changed the way he asked, “Tell me?”

Ning Qiuyan thought for a moment, then asked, “Will I die?”

He hadn’t died yet, there must be some reason for that.

If one day that reason was gone, he would die.

“Why would you think that?” Lu Qianque raised his eyebrows, surprised by his honesty. “No, you won’t die.”

Ning Qiuyan was puzzled.

“You have no idea how precious you are,” Lu Qianque said. “Mr. Guan searched for a very, very long time before he found someone like you. He won’t let you die.”

Hearing this description, Ning Qiuyan unconsciously curled his fingers and asked, “Searched for a long time?”

Lu Qianque: “Many years.”

Ning Qiuyan sensed something deeper and followed up, “How many years is ‘many years’?”

“Let me put it this way…” Lu Qianque thought for a while, then came up with a comparison. “Mr. Guan had this idea probably before I was born.”

At this point, his expression shifted, and in a disappointed tone he said, “Wait, you still don’t know my birthday.”

Ning Qiuyan was confused.

Lu Qianque: “Just a reminder, my birthday is my social account name.”

As he said this, Ning Qiuyan suddenly recalled Lu Qianque’s email username.

But his phone wasn’t with him, and that username was a mix of letters and numbers. He had never bothered to remember it, nor had he ever connected it to someone’s birthday.

“Forget it, I don’t expect you to remember,” Lu Qianque said. “Next time you see it, remember to prepare a gift for my birthday.”

Ning Qiuyan couldn’t answer him; he still knew nothing about his current situation.

Lu Qianque was just making casual conversation and didn’t really force him to agree.

Much later, Ning Qiuyan asked another question: “Why did Mr. Guan look for me? Is it because of my blood type? I’m RH negative, is that why I’m different?”

Lu Qianque blinked at him as he always did: “That’s a question you’ll have to ask Mr. Guan yourself. I’m not sure I can tell you.”

The car fell silent again.

Ning Qiuyan curled up his legs on the back seat, hugging his knees and looking out the window.

The city faded away. Their car crossed a bustling bridge, passed the shadow of hills looming like giant beasts, carrying him toward the unknown.

About an hour or two later, Lu Qianque woke Ning Qiuyan up.

Because he was physically and mentally exhausted, he had actually fallen asleep in such circumstances.

When he opened his eyes, he found a blanket draped over him, put there by Lu Qianque, probably to keep him from freezing to death.

After getting out of the car, the air carried a salty, damp smell of the sea, and the dark surroundings looked somewhat familiar.

The wind sobered Ning Qiuyan up a little, and he recognized the place as Du Island Pier.

Lu Qianque was genuinely worried he might catch a cold, and, treating him like a small animal, tightened the blanket around him: “You go to the island first. See you in a few days.”

The cold wind by the sea made Ning Qiuyan almost unable to open his eyes. He instinctively asked, “What about you?”
Lu Qianque ruffled his hair. “Silly, we never take the boat.”

Why not take the boat?

Ning Qiuyan remembered that last time, Lu Qianque had said they took a helicopter to Du Island.

Was there a difference between boats and planes for them?

Another entry was added to Ning Qiuyan’s list of unsolved mysteries, making him even more puzzled.

“Come on, let’s go.” Lu Qianque gave him a push. “Behave yourself when you get there. The gentleman is easy to appease, so you won’t have to suffer as much, understand?”

When they reached the dock, Ning Qiuyan boarded the familiar white boat. Uncle Ping was still waiting for him on the deck.

Uncle Ping greeted Lu Qianque politely, addressing him as “Young Master” like everyone else.

Lu Qianque was polite in return. “It’s late, thank you for your trouble.”

Uncle Ping replied, “It’s my duty.”

At night, theirs was the only boat on the sea.

A crescent moon hung in the sky, casting a faint light over the rolling waves.

Ning Qiuyan sat in the cabin, lost in thought.

Perhaps because of Lu Qianque’s attitude, this time Uncle Ping brought two cups of hot water-one for Ning Qiuyan, one for himself.

Ning Qiuyan just sat there, not drinking.

Uncle Ping took a sip from his own cup. “Stop staring. I’m human, just like you. I won’t hurt you.”

Ning Qiuyan was slightly startled. So Uncle Ping also knew the secret of Du Island.

He picked up his own cup, holding it in his hands, but said nothing.

He’d been on the boat for a while, but was still cold all over. Even with a blanket, it didn’t help much; the warmth of the water brought only a little comfort.

“When you first came to the island, I thought you knew everything,” Uncle Ping said. “You may be young, but you’re pretty bold.”

Lu Qianque had said the same thing at first, calling him naive.

Ning Qiuyan, annoyed and a bit frustrated, thought that maybe everyone saw him as either brave or foolish.

Uncle Ping muttered to himself, “You’re different. After all these years, it’s the first time the gentleman has asked me to bring someone to the island at night.”

With that, he took his cup and walked out.

The first time coming to the island at night.

It was also Ning Qiuyan’s first time being sent to Du Island so late, his first time sailing across the sea at night. The boating accident when he was a child had left a psychological shadow, and combined with this night voyage, it should have been terrifying. But Ning Qiuyan had already forgotten about that, because nothing compared to what he’d experienced today.

He wondered randomly whether the others on the island knew the secret of Du Island, or if they were just like him, knowing nothing and simply working for the island. Then he worried if the Monster would seek revenge on Ray and the others, and what Lu Qianque would do about it.

Separated by the vast blue-black sea, Ning Qiuyan felt lost and helpless about what might happen in the future.

His thoughts were like the deepening sea, making it hard to breathe.

When the white boat finally docked at Du Island, it was nearly midnight.

Stepping onto the soil of Du Island, Ning Qiuyan realized he hadn’t told anyone he was coming.

If he died this time, maybe only when weeds grew on his grave would Su Jianzhou find out.

He thought pessimistically that Du Island might be his end.

*

Late at night, Uncle Kang was awakened from his sleep.

When he came to pick up Ning Qiuyan, he was still wearing thick pajamas, looking much older than the well-dressed man Ning Qiuyan remembered-a truly elderly Old Man.

“Child, we meet again,” Uncle Kang said. “Did you get seasick this time?”

Ning Qiuyan shook his head.

Seeing him so silent, Uncle Kang took Ning Qiuyan’s hand, his palm warm and kindly. “The gentleman told me you were coming. I guess something must have happened today-it must have been a hard day, right?”

Ning Qiuyan felt his eyes grow hot at the question.

Uncle Kang’s concern was genuine, which eased some of his fear of this place. Du Island was still Du Island; it seemed unchanged by what he’d discovered today.

Ning Qiuyan got into the car again.

A trip to Du Island always meant switching from car to boat, then boat to car-so many transfers.

But the closer he got to the mansion, the more he thought about Guan Heng’s punishment.

He had to admit he had no idea what “punishment” meant, so when Uncle Kang dropped him off at the farm, he was surprised.

All around was darkness, with only the moonlight illuminating the sharp treetops and scattered traces of snow.

They got out of the car and walked past a wooden fence.

The livestock and poultry had all gone to their nests; the grounds were empty.

Guan Ziming stood under a streetlamp, his face cold. He nodded to Uncle Kang. “Grandpa Kang.”

Ning Qiuyan hadn’t figured out what was going on when Uncle Kang patted his shoulder. “Xiao Ning, go ahead.”

At that moment, Ning Qiuyan thought he was being sent to work at the farm as punishment for something he’d done wrong. He felt relieved, but also sensed something was off.

Guan Ziming looked like he’d just been woken up, his eyes sleepy, even his usual cold indifference softened a bit.

Guan Ziming was always cool and quiet; Ning Qiuyan’s mind was in turmoil.

The two teenagers walked silently into the farm.

Ning Qiuyan tried to make conversation. “It’s so late-were you already asleep?”

Guan Ziming: “Mm.”

He didn’t ask why Ning Qiuyan had come at this hour, nor did he say what Ning Qiuyan was supposed to do.

Ning Qiuyan knew Guan Ziming had a bad temper, so he hesitated before asking, “Where am I sleeping tonight?”

Maybe he’d be lucky and the farm, like the mansion, would have a room for everyone.

Guan Ziming glanced at him, replying coolly, “Just follow me.”

Ning Qiuyan followed Guan Ziming into the sheep pen.

As soon as the light came on, the sheep, previously quiet and asleep, started bleating.

The smell in the pen wasn’t pleasant, but Ning Qiuyan didn’t mind much, looking around for a bed to sleep on.

Without a word, Guan Ziming dove into the flock. The sheep scattered, running wildly, the scene chaotic and real, full of the bustle of life.
Ning Qiuyan looked at the scene before him and, in that moment, experienced a cognitive dissonance, unable to stop himself from doubting the authenticity of the entire world.

Was this truly a world where Monsters and humans coexisted?

Was all of this his imagination, or was it reality?

Ning Qiuyan sat numbly, wrapped in a blanket and staring into space. Guan Ziming, too busy to care, simply assumed he was afraid of stepping on sheep droppings or disliked the stench of the sheep pen.

Guan Ziming had been the same when he first arrived, but now he was quite adept.

He bent over, digging around the flock with both hands, and soon caught a little lamb. The lamb was snow-white all over. The way Guan Ziming held its four legs made Ning Qiuyan think of scenes from shepherd movies.

They left the sheep pen. Ning Qiuyan didn’t know what Guan Ziming wanted with the lamb, and on the way, he felt a sense of relief, thinking he wouldn’t have to sleep in the sheep pen tonight.

Then, they entered the slaughterhouse.

It had already been cleaned thoroughly-no cattle carcasses hung on the walls, and there were barely any traces of blood on the floor.

Guan Ziming put the lamb on the ground. It bleated, looking utterly helpless.

Guan Ziming turned around, found a long, sharp knife, and shoved it into Ning Qiuyan’s hand. Then he grabbed a clean bucket from the corner and set it in front of him. “Kill it.”

Ning Qiuyan’s eyelids twitched violently and he almost immediately let go of the knife. “Why?!”

“If you’re afraid it’ll struggle, just tie it to the chopping board first.” Guan Ziming, emotionless, picked up the knife and forced it back into his hand. “Just stab the knife through its throat-make it quick. Come out when you’re done.”

Tied to the chopping board, throat slit.

Wasn’t that exactly like the horrifying scene he had just witnessed today?

Cold sweat broke out in Ning Qiuyan’s palm. The blade gleamed cold and bright.

Seeing him frozen, Guan Ziming said indifferently, “You’re a grown man and you don’t even dare kill a lamb?”

Ning Qiuyan was completely stunned.

Guan Ziming walked to the door. Before leaving, he reminded him, “Just let the blood flow into the bucket. Mister likes it warm, and he likes it clean. Don’t take too long, and don’t make a mess.”

With that, the door was closed. Ning Qiuyan heard the sound of it being locked.

Guan Heng likes it warm, and clean… blood.

Ning Qiuyan was dazed, his mind going blank.

What exactly was Guan Heng? Only the tip of the iceberg had been revealed, and he was already on the verge of being drowned by the truth.

Very quickly, he thought in confusion of Guan Heng teaching him how to put together a puzzle, playing the guitar, praising him in the car on the way back from the lighthouse.

He had received Guan Heng’s New Year gift, and also a note from him.

In just three months, with three meetings, they had shared more than he’d imagined.

Yet, he hadn’t forgotten why he’d come to Du Island, or the bite mark on his neck that left him tossing and turning at night.

He buried his head in his knees, and finally, the image surfaced in his mind of Guan Heng holding a glass, lightly sipping the crimson liquid inside.

At this moment, he finally faced a fact: Guan Heng was, unmistakably, not of his kind.

*

Time ticked by, and no matter how long he thought about it, Ning Qiuyan couldn’t make sense of it.

He would only be let out if he killed the lamb and drained the blood himself.

Why was Guan Heng punishing him like this?

He was an adult; killing a lamb shouldn’t be hard. But every time he worked up the courage to harden his heart, he would remember the moment when those people sliced open the Monster’s face with a knife-it was all too similar to Guan Ziming instructing him to tie the lamb to the board.

It made him feel sick.

The lamb was eating dry grass from the floor.

After sharing a room with the executioner for so long, it had forgotten its fear, completely unaware of the danger about to befall it. Its cheeks moved rhythmically as it chewed, just as cute as Ning Qiuyan remembered.

After finishing the grass, it blinked and got ready to kneel in the corner to sleep.

Late at night, all of Du Island was as quiet as this.

Ning Qiuyan couldn’t solve this problem, nor could he bring himself to do it.

He’d never even killed a fish-how could he kill a lamb?

“Pick up the knife.”

He hadn’t eaten all day; Ning Qiuyan’s stomach cramped with pain, and his head throbbed with dizziness. At first, he thought he was hearing things.

But soon, someone supported him from behind.

“You’ve wasted enough time.” That person grabbed his right hand and spoke in a cold, familiar voice by his ear. “The law of the jungle-it’s just the way of nature.”

It was the dead of night, the darkest time of day.

A forest wind slipped through the cracks in the wooden boards.

Ning Qiuyan had no idea when Guan Heng had arrived, like a breeze coming in unnoticed.

Maybe he’d been here all along, hidden in the darkness, watching this struggle and cowardice play out.

Ning Qiuyan could feel the handle of the knife in his hand, and his hand was firmly gripped by Guan Heng. Even though he was trembling, Guan Heng had no intention of ending this punishment.

“In our eyes, humans are no different from this lamb,” Guan Heng said. “It’s very easy to kill you.”

He spoke slowly and clearly behind Ning Qiuyan: “When your carotid artery is bitten by a Predator and injected with Venom, you lose consciousness in two seconds. If the Predator doesn’t stop drinking, then you’ll die from blood loss in two minutes.”

Guan Heng’s palm was icy cold.

Ning Qiuyan couldn’t even sense his breath, but his own neck prickled with goosebumps, his heart pounding out of control, his breathing ragged.

If Guan Heng bit him, would he die just as soundlessly?

The slaughterhouse’s chandelier was glaringly bright.

But right now, everything before Ning Qiuyan seemed blurry, impossible to see clearly.

The atmosphere was eerie.

Guan Heng’s voice continued in his ear: “When it comes to the Infected, the truth is even more cruel.”

“Once infected with Venom, they begin to transform. But because they can’t complete the entire transformation, they fall into utter madness. They lose all reason and emotion-not only do they thirst for blood, but they won’t hesitate to eat flesh, either.”
“Normally, even when faced with their closest kin, they would bite through your throat and devour you without hesitation. It would be even easier than you killing a sheep.”

Tears slid down.

Ning Qiuyan felt utterly humiliated, but Guan Heng was simply too terrifying.

He finally understood that all those noble, gentle, elegant versions of Guan Heng were not the real Guan Heng.

Just as Guan Heng had described himself, he was a bloodthirsty demon, merely wearing a human skin, disguising himself as one of them, slowly killing the prey he had caught.

There had never been any romantic connection between them-there was only the domestication of prey by a Predator.

Never before had Ning Qiuyan seen the situation so clearly as he did now.

“If you hadn’t left early tonight, that would’ve been your fate.”

The coldness in the voice disappeared.

When Guan Heng said this, it was as if he was telling Ning Qiuyan he had placed a puzzle piece in the wrong spot.

“One dead, one severely injured,” Guan Heng said. “Tonight it fled into the city; I don’t know if anyone else will become a victim.”

Ning Qiuyan opened his eyes.

The wind seeped through the gaps between the wooden planks, making its way through the walls, causing the chandelier to sway incessantly. He stiffly watched the shadows dancing on the floor.

There were two shadows, one tall and one short. The chandelier cast their outlines sharply. Guan Heng stood right in front of him, and it was as if Ning Qiuyan was held in his embrace, a cruelly sharp knife clutched in his hand.

“Are you scared?” Guan Heng asked.

“…” Ning Qiuyan couldn’t see Guan Heng’s face, but he was trembling much less than before. “How do you know all this?”

“When you weren’t answering your phone,” Guan Heng didn’t answer the question directly. Instead, he said, “I was already prepared to collect your corpse. Lu Qianque brought a doctor with him. I told them to think carefully about how to sew up your neck so it wouldn’t look too gruesome.”

The black humor wasn’t funny at all.

Ning Qiuyan shivered again, deeply regretting that he hadn’t listened to Guan Heng and gone home that day.

He had no idea what he was truly facing. His curiosity had overcome everything, making him impulsive and foolish.

Yet, the possibility of uncovering Guan Heng’s secrets was far too tempting for him to resist.

Guan Heng was reminding him, in his own way, of just how dangerous it all was.

Ning Qiuyan whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Guan Heng said nothing, perhaps dissatisfied with the apology.

They stood quietly in the house.

As quiet as the night itself.

Suddenly, the little lamb broke the silence and bleated, “Baa-”

A few seconds later, Guan Heng asked, “Where should you start so it won’t hurt? I can teach you.”

Then, he stated flatly, “But I don’t need a knife.”

Ning Qiuyan froze, and began to tremble again.

“If you don’t want to, do it yourself.” There was no room for negotiation in Guan Heng’s words. “Two minutes. I’ll wait outside.”

Suddenly, it felt empty behind him, and his hand was released. In an instant, Guan Heng had left, as if he had never been there.

Only Ning Qiuyan was left in the slaughterhouse.

“Baa-” The little lamb began to bleat anxiously.

*

When his mind cleared a little, Ning Qiuyan saw the sky outside the window was already lightening with the pale hue of dawn.

He threw away the knife and sat on the floor, his hands covered in fresh blood.

Doing it was not as difficult as he’d imagined.

Ning Qiuyan was unaware of how cold his body had become, how he shook like a sieve-all signs of severe hypoglycemia. He only felt terribly weak and exhausted, and slowly slumped onto the floorboards.

He gasped for breath, the pungent smell of blood filling his nose, making him want to vomit.

Through his blurred vision, someone pushed open the door to the slaughterhouse and entered.

Suddenly, Ning Qiuyan felt weightless as someone lifted him up, carrying him in their arms.

He strained to look, finally seeing Guan Heng’s face, and the dark eyes gradually ringed with a deep, crimson hue.

They looked at each other for a few seconds before Ning Qiuyan averted his gaze.

As they passed the small, white bundle of the lamb’s corpse on the floor, he buried his face in Guan Heng’s chest, wrapped his arms in front of him, and clutched at Guan Heng’s shirt.

Guan Heng’s long, cold hair brushed against his cheek, like the early morning wind outside.

The sky was not yet fully light; everything was still shrouded in mist.

On the treetops and ground alike, the fog pressed down, heavy and damp.

Someone stood in front of the car, but Ning Qiuyan was too weak to see who it was.

This time, Guan Heng did not praise him for a job well done. He only said, “If you ever encounter that situation again, or meet anyone other than us, don’t hesitate. Run as fast as you can.”

Ning Qiuyan opened his mouth. “I want some water.”

He then heard Guan Heng’s slightly cool voice give the order: “Sugar water.”

Ning Qiuyan felt he might have briefly passed out.

When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was the car’s skylight and the dark silhouettes of treetops rushing past overhead.

His mouth tasted sweet.

Ning Qiuyan looked down and saw that Guan Heng’s hand rested lightly on his abdomen, loosely protecting his clothes.

Those hands were beautiful, with distinct joints, their fingertips lustrous, so clean they seemed untouched by a speck of dust.

And in Ning Qiuyan’s own hand was a bottle with a straw-likely handed to him by Guan Heng. He was unconsciously sipping the sweet liquid, pre-prepared sugar water, which eased his dizziness from hypoglycemia.

Seeing the dried blood in the creases of his own fingers, Ning Qiuyan closed his eyes again.