Chapter 25

“Lu Qianque!”

Ning Qiuyan vaguely heard the sound of a helicopter, but he didn’t see Lu Qianque arrive. Only when he saw Lu Qianque did he realize he hadn’t misheard.

After just two or three days apart, Ning Qiuyan looked somewhat different from the night he was brought to Du Island.

Although his expression became animated for a moment, his overall condition wasn’t good. There were faint dark circles under his eyes and lingering worry on his face. It seemed that he really hadn’t been doing well these past few days.

“Building a snowman here all by yourself?”

Lu Qianque said this, then looked down and casually searched the ground.

The snow was soft, scattered with some fallen leaves.

Not far away were some branches that the Servant hadn’t had time to clear. Lu Qianque picked one up. With a crisp snap, he easily broke a branch as thick as a water pipe and took a piece with a fork.

This was obviously not something an ordinary person could do, but Lu Qianque did it naturally in front of him. He then walked over, stuck the branch into the snowman, and said to him, “What kind of snowman only has one arm?”

Ning Qiuyan’s snowman was made carelessly; he was distracted and had only given it one arm.

Now it had both arms and looked quite adorable.

Ning Qiuyan fixed his gaze on Lu Qianque. “Any news from Wutong? Any updates?”

It seemed that Ning Qiuyan really believed he would just stand by and do nothing.

Lu Qianque didn’t tease him and said, “Don’t worry, I’ve already taken care of everything.”

Taken care of?

Ning Qiuyan remembered what Lu Qianque had said that night and grew nervous.

“That thing’s movements are unpredictable and it’s not easy to catch,” Lu Qianque told him. “The night before last, we caught it in the primeval forest west of Wutong, near the coastline.”

Ning Qiuyan breathed a sigh of relief.

But Lu Qianque continued, “Unfortunately, it had already killed three people.”

Ning Qiuyan had a bad feeling. “What?”

“I never stopped hunting it, but after it fed, its strength increased sharply. Even for me, it was very tricky. The victims included a forest ranger and a gas station attendant.” Lu Qianque paused, “Regrettably, the band singer who went to see it with you was also killed.”

Lu Qianque took out his phone, scrolled a few times, and handed it to Ning Qiuyan.

Ning Qiuyan was completely unprepared. He took one look, then covered his mouth and ran to the side, nearly retching.

In the photo, Ray was lying in a dirty puddle. Some decaying, dried leaves and mud were stuck to his head and face. His head and body were positioned at a very strange angle, his eyes wide open, staring blankly at some point, his chin covered in sticky blood.

Ning Qiuyan retched for a while, tears streaming down from the physical reaction.

Seeing such a scene made him extremely uncomfortable, and it was even more nauseating when someone he knew had become a corpse.

Lu Qianque came up behind him and said, “When I sent you to the pier, I had already informed people near his home, but he didn’t go back that night. The next day, his was the first body discovered. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to take him to the police station.”

Tears rolled down Ning Qiuyan’s face.

He didn’t know if it was for physical reasons, or because the death was too cruel.

He calmed down for a while, trying hard not to recall the image in the photo.

Lu Qianque waited for him to turn around before speaking again, hinting, “Now that you’ve seen the consequences with your own eyes, do you realize just how serious this is?”

“What a pity,” Lu Qianque said. “Mister always hoped you’d never have to know this.”

Lu Qianque looked up.

Ning Qiuyan noticed and followed his gaze upward.

On the third floor, the lights were bright. The space in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows was empty.

No one was standing there.

*

Ning Qiuyan didn’t really know when Lu Qianque had left.

When he was wandering by the lake, he saw traces left in the snow by the helicopter’s rotors.

In the mornings, he would go to Granny Bai’s kitchen to help with chores. In the afternoons, he would go to the farm to feed chickens, and occasionally he would daze off at the lighthouse.

It was the beginning of spring.

Although the weather was still cold, it was snowing much less.

The lighthouse was near the coastline. Under the gloomy sky, the gray-blue sea looked tranquil and magnificent. Wave after wave crashed onto the shore, with fine white foam rising, bringing with them some hermit crabs or dead shellfish.

It was already the last Friday of the month.

Ning Qiuyan, who was supposed to arrive on Du Island on this day, had already been here for nearly a week. Considering his recent history of dizziness due to hypoglycemia and significant psychological changes, Dr. Ling gave him a thorough examination early that morning.

The flashlight beam shone into his clear pupils, watching them dilate and contract.

Dr. Ling assessed Ning Qiuyan’s physical condition, checking whether he was fit to donate blood in the near future.

Fortunately, young people recover quickly. Ning Qiuyan was already perfectly fine.

The house was warm, and he had just taken a shower. He was wearing a white sweater-brought to the island by Lu Qianque, perhaps purchased especially for him. Each item fit him very well. He sat obediently as Dr. Ling examined him.

This time, Dr. Ling hadn’t brought blood collection equipment just for show.

Ning Qiuyan didn’t ask either.

Even the nickname issue he most wanted to protest, he’d lost interest in asking Dr. Ling about it.

After the examination, Ning Qiuyan finally asked, “Dr. Ling, am I any different from those animals?”

Dr. Ling’s hand paused, then he replied nonchalantly, “What do you mean?”

“Is my constitution a bit special?” Ning Qiuyan asked. “For the deer and sheep at the farm, they only collect blood; the animals don’t need to be there in person. But I have to come to the island myself.”
Ning Qiuyan did not speak very bluntly, but it was enough for those who could understand to grasp his meaning.

Some things are not suitable to be said directly.

Dr. Ling was surprised by his perceptiveness. He did not expose the true intent behind Ning Qiuyan’s words, but replied, “Relatively speaking, yes. Animal blood is just one option, but you are essential.”

Ning Qiuyan listened, his expression unchanged.

Dr. Ling continued, “An extremely small amount of venom needs to first react directly in your body, and then be reabsorbed. Only then does it have meaning.”

Dr. Ling spoke very clearly. Seeing Ning Qiuyan’s eyelashes tremble, he asked, “Will I become addicted?”

Dr. Ling was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

Ning Qiuyan briefly told him what had happened in Wutong, then added, “They treat it as a kind of drug for trafficking. I’ve seen people who use it-every one of them is an addict. It’s terrifying.”

He did not elaborate on the consequences; the implication was already clear enough.

“Of course not,” Dr. Ling said after a moment. “What you’re describing involves not only high-purity, large quantities of venom, but also only occurs in lower life forms. Let me put it this way: you can think of them as Infected, similar to unfinished, unevolved half-products. They have no control over themselves. But for a mature, complete being, venom is extremely precious…”

He thought for a moment, then found a less gruesome way to put it: “Only when intending to kill prey completely will a complete being release large amounts of venom. Otherwise, it will never be released lightly.”

Ning Qiuyan seemed to half understand, but did not ask further.

After tidying up, Dr. Ling returned to the previous topic: “Actually, sir prefers deer blood. You’ll see in spring-Du Island has many deer, not just in farms, but also roaming free in the forests. We almost never slaughter deer.”

Dr. Ling went on to say that Du Island in spring is completely different from winter.

He also mentioned that Ning Qiuyan’s next visit would be in early spring, when the snow melts, birds return, and the scenery is stunning in a different way.

*

The next day, Uncle Kang knocked on Guan Heng’s door, saying that Ning Qiuyan was ready.

Guan Heng knew he was in the puzzle room.

When Guan Heng entered the puzzle room, Ning Qiuyan had already completed a corner.

He had gotten up early to shower and change, and had come upstairs on his own without Uncle Kang’s guidance.

This was their first meeting since that night.

Ning Qiuyan was very quiet. Hearing Guan Heng’s voice, he looked up at him. His eyes were clear, black and white, all the fear and unease gone, no different from when he first arrived on Du Island.

“Mr. Guan,” Ning Qiuyan greeted him proactively, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Guan Heng replied coolly.

The puzzle room felt spacious when Guan Heng wasn’t there.

Once Guan Heng arrived, it seemed to shrink. That day, Guan Heng wore a simple shirt, loosely outlining his tall, striking figure. Not formal, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

“Your phone.” Guan Heng reached out and handed the item to the person kneeling on the floor. “Lu Qianque brought it to the island. The lock screen wallpaper is nice.”

Ning Qiuyan finally showed a different expression, a bit flattered as he took the phone back. “Thank you!”

He hadn’t yet thought about why Lu Qianque had given the phone to Guan Heng.

Guan Heng asked, “Is that your mother in the photo?”

Ning Qiuyan nodded, murmured an “Mm,” and opened the phone to browse its contents.

He quickly scrolled through a couple of things, then, as if gathering his courage to make a decision, said to Guan Heng, “I have something I want to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

“Last time, you asked me to reflect in the Meditation Room, to get to know myself again.” Ning Qiuyan paused before continuing, “I realized I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Guan Heng was silent, as if waiting for him to go on.

Ning Qiuyan fixed his gaze on the puzzle before him. “Can I terminate the agreement?”

The curtains were tightly drawn, and the room was brightly lit.

The boy’s profile was calm, as if he had grown up overnight.

“You helped me pay back my Aunt. I’ll find a way to repay you,” he said, not mentioning the guitar with its different significance as a gift. “I didn’t know you would help pay it all at once, so I might not be able to repay you in one go, but I will. I can contact Lu Qianque and pay you on time-”

“Sorry,” Guan Heng interrupted him. “I cannot terminate the agreement.”

Ning Qiuyan did not continue.

Perhaps he had already guessed the outcome and was just trying in vain.

Guan Heng said, “Once it starts, it cannot be stopped.”

Ning Qiuyan replied, “So, excluding this time, there are only three times left, right?”

He emphasized “only,” as if confirming a deadline, a promise.

Guan Heng: “Mm.”

Ning Qiuyan put down the puzzle piece in his hand and moved his fingers to his collar.

It was as if he was fulfilling his promise to “give myself to you,” doing so without any hesitation.

He wore a plush coat. The horn buttons were cold, and his fair fingers trembled slightly as he undid them one by one. With his head lowered, as the collar opened, one could see from above his gradually exposed, slender nape.

It was a ritual of sacrifice.

When the fourth horn button was undone, Guan Heng easily caught his wrist.