Gan Tang didn’t know how much time had passed.
After all, when people were extremely tense, they often misjudged the length of time.
He felt like he had been frozen in place for a long time—so long that his limbs started to go numb.
But because his mind had gone blank, when he finally came back to himself, it felt as if everything had happened in an instant.
The worm monsters that had been desperately trying to get close to him, after their fruitless attempts, finally seemed to resign themselves to failure and slowly retreated.
A rustling friction sound arose. The killers and the killed trudged along in a daze, once again sinking into the twisted, shadowy depths of the forest.
Their bodies writhed in a sickly manner, leaving behind a long, slick, semi-transparent trail.
“Where are they going?”
Only after speaking did Gan Tang realize that he had unknowingly asked this question out loud.
What surprised him even more was that the “Cen Zibai” behind him immediately gave a precise answer.
“Of course, they’re going to the bottom of the well. That’s their home.”
“Cen Zibai” seemed to smile again.
After Uncle Zhang and the young man’s head-worm monster disappeared, the forest did not return to its original silence.
On the contrary, their departure was like the silent beginning of something else.
More and more rustling noises gradually arose in the darkness.
In the jungle, in the treetops, in the depths of the forest where Gan Tang’s vision could not reach… countless things were slithering and crawling.
Gan Tang couldn’t make out their exact shapes.
Perhaps to avoid the overwhelming scent of the marking on his body, those things deliberately kept their distance from him.
But occasionally, through the gaps in the underbrush, under the halo of his flashlight, he caught fleeting glimpses of their shadows.
Fortunately, from their outlines, they didn’t seem human. They should be just some common forest animals.
But they were definitely not normal animals.
Even from just a glance, Gan Tang was certain—those things’ twisted, grotesque movements were exactly the same as “Uncle Zhang” and that severed head.
…How many more of these things were there?!
Gan Tang wanted to scream, but all the sound was stuck in his throat.
His back and chest were already drenched in cold sweat and the saliva of “Cen Zibai,” and his heart pounded violently in his chest.
For a moment, Gan Tang couldn’t even tell if this was reality, his own delusion, or just a long, horrifyingly vivid nightmare.
Otherwise, he truly couldn’t explain the existence of those “things”—those worms that, like hermit crabs, nested inside human and animal bodies…
Worms.
So many worms.
Gan Tang couldn’t help but raise a hand and touch his own cheek.
Luckily, the sensation at his fingertips was cool, soft, and smooth.
He didn’t feel anything wriggling.
“…What exactly are they?”
A metallic taste of blood rose in Gan Tang’s mouth.
Using the sharp pain of biting his tongue, he struggled to maintain a sliver of clarity, then tremblingly asked.
Hearing the question, “Cen Zibai” replied at a leisurely pace.
“They’re not anything particularly powerful. Don’t be fooled by their disgusting appearance—they’re actually quite fragile. It’s because they’re too fragile that they have to inhabit human bodies. You could say they’re a rather advanced… hmm… using human terms, parasites?”
“Cen Zibai” muttered to himself.
“But Tang Tang really doesn’t need to be afraid. Those things won’t stay outside for too long. After all, the world beyond the well is far too harsh for them. They’ll go back as soon as possible…”
Back to the deep, pitch-black bottom of the well.
That place was better—much more suited to their survival.
The underground river flowed ceaselessly, bringing endless damp humidity.
There was the unchanging, absolute darkness and silence.
The eternal shadows wrapped around the shivering creatures at the bottom of the well, the ever-chaotic, everlasting children of the abyss…
“They only came to you simply because they really like Tang Tang. Your scent is so sweet, so, so delicious… the best among everyone, the most suitable…”
Gan Tang couldn’t hear anything else Cen Zibai was saying.
Because as he spoke, the monster, which had completely abandoned any pretense of being human, had already moved on its own to stand in front of Gan Tang.
The moment Gan Tang saw “Cen Zibai,” he immediately lowered his gaze, breathing heavily as he stared fixedly at his own toes, terrified of once again seeing that twisted face, oozing with wriggling worms.
“I mean it. As long as I’m here, you don’t have to be afraid. Because Tang Tang is my precious treasure. I will always protect you…”
As he spoke, Cen Zibai smiled and reached out, cupping Gan Tang’s face.
He forced Gan Tang to meet his gaze.
Gan Tang’s breath caught for a moment.
Fortunately, the face before him was still as handsome as ever and hadn’t turned into something like “Uncle Zhang” or that severed head, as he had feared.
At some point, the surroundings had fallen into silence once again.
Yet Gan Tang still felt as if he could vaguely hear a strange, faint sound.
Rustling.
Rustling.
The sound of worms rubbing, tangling, writhing.
The sound came from deep within the body of the person standing in front of him…
“Then what about you? What are you?”
Gan Tang heard himself ask, his voice as soft as a wisp of smoke.
“Cen Zibai” blinked.
“I’m still Cen Zibai, of course. Though my body is a little different now, my soul is still the same…” He smiled. “You were the one who personally put me into the well, hoping I would return, weren’t you?”
Lies.
Gan Tang’s lips moved slightly, but the curse that slipped out was as faint as a sigh.
No matter what was currently occupying Cen Zibai’s body, it wasn’t very skilled at lying. The moment Gan Tang heard that answer, he knew it was deceit.
This thing clearly understood what Gan Tang was truly asking, yet it deliberately gave a vague and evasive response.
“My soul is still the same”? But it had already admitted that its body was different—
Wait, body… body composition.
Scenes from past nightmares suddenly began replaying in Gan Tang’s mind.
He remembered the dream he had the first time Cen Zibai appeared in his home—the dream where countless thread-like worms spilled out of his skin.
But was that really just a dream?
Gan Tang instinctively took a step back.
But the moment he moved, “Cen Zibai” immediately grabbed him.
The boy’s grip was strong, his fingers unnaturally cold.
Gan Tang’s body stiffened again.
If an uninformed bystander were present at this moment, they might think that the atmosphere between the two young men in the deep forest was filled with ambiguous intimacy.
Gan Tang remained motionless, his eyelashes trembling as he tilted his head back helplessly.
Meanwhile, the taller boy held him close, his gaze sticky, his expression intense, filled with hunger and desire for the youth before him.
Slowly, gradually, “Cen Zibai” lowered his head toward Gan Tang.
“I really like Tang Tang.”
“I like you so, so, so much.”
“Ever since I woke up, my mind has been completely filled with you. I like you too much.”
“I want to build a new colony with Tang Tang—a perfect home…”
Amid the continuous murmurs of sweet confessions, it seemed as though the next second, the boy would press his lips against Gan Tang’s.
The mere thought of it nearly drove Gan Tang insane.
But in the end, “Cen Zibai” didn’t actually kiss him.
His lips only brushed past the corner of Gan Tang’s mouth before stopping just beside his neck.
He closed his eyes and twitched his nose slightly—
Like a well-behaved little puppy, indulging in its own restraint, yet still unable to resist sniffing Gan Tang’s scent.
A faint flush appeared on “Cen Zibai’s” cheekbones.
“…You’ll get used to all of this eventually.”
His voice was hoarse, delivering his final words—
A whisper that was both a prophecy and a merciless verdict.
“It’s okay if you hate me now. In the end, we’ll always be together.”
For a moment, Gan Tang felt dazed.
[You can’t escape, Gan Tang. There’s no need to struggle so much—you’ll only end up hurting yourself.]
[I told you, you’ll always be mine.]
[I won’t let you go.]
[I love you. If you die, I’ll probably eat your body. How about that? You can do the same to me.]
[We are meant to be together. You belong to me.]
…
A parasite inhabiting another’s body, yet at this moment, it overlapped perfectly with the ghost of that wretched boy from the past.
As if that ghost had awakened once more, possessing its long-dead shell.
Gan Tang remained frozen in place, but his fingers had turned pale from gripping too tightly.
The moment “Cen Zibai” lowered his head as if about to kiss him, Gan Tang had already, without a sound, tightened his grasp on the flashlight in his hand.
The old-fashioned flashlight was indeed incredibly impractical. Its long silver metal casing, made of alloy, was rusted and dim, and its beam was weak. But one thing was undeniable: this type of flashlight was extremely, extremely heavy—heavy enough that, with sufficient force, it could easily smash through someone’s skull.
Gan Tang’s pupils were empty. He stared blankly at the “Cen Zibai” before him, but in his mind, all he could see was that rain-drenched night, when even the world itself seemed on the verge of destruction.
How he had reached into the boy’s damp, muddy hair, grabbed hold, and hacked through his neck, stroke by stroke.
As he thought this, his elbow lifted slightly. He gripped the flashlight tightly, shifting his focus to “Cen Zibai’s” temple.
At that moment, his mind was eerily calm—so calm that he could speak casually, as if nothing were amiss:
“Ah, what’s that?”
Gan Tang suddenly raised his hand, pointing directly behind Cen Zibai.
And Cen Zibai, lacking the cunning of a true final boss, still seemed eager to play the role of Gan Tang’s loyal puppy (despite his terrible acting).
At Gan Tang’s words, he immediately turned his head, completely unaware that behind him, Gan Tang had already raised his hand high.
Just a fraction of a second more, and Gan Tang would have smashed the boy’s head open like a ruined watermelon.
But at that exact moment, voices rang out from the forest, accompanied by faint beams of light.
At first, Gan Tang had only been bluffing. He hadn’t expected that, by randomly pointing, someone would actually show up.
Branches were carefully pushed aside, and soon, a person—a living person—peeked out in their direction.
The newcomer looked irritated, storming toward them. It was the villager who had previously been assigned to accompany Gan Tang.
“Damn it, Tang Kid, why the hell did you run off?! I told you to stick with me, and you just up and disappeared! I’ve been going crazy looking for you—couldn’t find Zhang Er either, and now you’re missing too. You’re not a damn kid anymore, what the hell were you thinking—”
The villager was nearly losing his mind.
He hadn’t even realized when Gan Tang had gone missing—he’d only stepped away for a smoke, and when he came back, the kid was gone.
Scared half to death, he was beside himself with frustration upon finally finding him.
But then, as he looked up, he saw the tall, eerily smiling young man standing beside Gan Tang.
A stranger had appeared out of nowhere, and it startled him.
His previous aggression immediately faded.
That boy was clearly a city kid, yet the way he looked at him carried an unsettling, inexplicable depth.
Still, after a slight tilt of his head, the boy beamed and introduced himself warmly, saying he was Gan Tang’s friend and had come looking for him after hearing strange noises outside.
“I… I see.”
The villager couldn’t explain it, but every time he looked at this city boy, he felt a deep, bone-chilling dread.
He shuddered, forced himself to shake off the feeling, and changed the subject, trying to find an excuse to leave.
“Alright, whatever. Just don’t go wandering around, you city kids. This mountain is cursed as hell. Anyway, forget about Zhang Er—the village chief said everyone needs to head back now!”
Author’s Note:
Gan Tang: Anyone who’s killed before knows—killing your husband gets easier the second time.
