Gan Tang felt a chill rush down his spine.
At that moment, his legs went weak, and he nearly collapsed onto the edge of the bed.
“G-Grandma…”
He stared in horror at his grandma’s ear, frozen for a long time before realizing that the thing moving wasn’t the wriggling worms he had imagined—it was just a few strands of her disheveled, graying hair.
Phew…
Gan Tang finally let out a breath of relief.
Thank goodness. It wasn’t worms.
As long as it wasn’t worms, it was fine.
…
But after that initial relief, an even deeper fear slowly spread through his body.
His grandma hadn’t been taken over by the worms yet—but what about later?
Was she truly safe?
Gan Tang had already harbored some suspicions before, but now, his thoughts were growing clearer.
If his guess was correct, after undergoing a “borrowed flesh” ritual in the Borrowed Flesh Well, those who returned would release strange worms.
Those worms… would take over other people’s bodies.
Then, the people and animals that were taken over would eventually be drawn back into the well.
This was likely what was meant by “borrowing flesh” and “repaying flesh.”
Even though the only person who had truly resurrected was “Cen Zibai,” more than just one person had died in the village.
Gan Tang had already seen two people turn into worm creatures. If nothing unexpected had happened, then Zhang Weiguo—the villager who had gone missing—was probably already a host for those worms as well… And if Gan Tang hadn’t run into Uncle Xijiao just in time, the man would have been taken over too, slipping into the depths of the forest.
Not just people, but dogs and livestock as well…
Humans, animals, and possibly even more—every single one had become a nest for the worms.
Was this what Grandma meant when she said “it can’t be repaid”? That after borrowing flesh, the price had to be repaid with countless human and animal bodies?
…
Gan Tang’s mind was overflowing with countless questions. He panted anxiously as he looked at his grandma lying in bed. Even in sleep, her brows remained tightly furrowed.
A sudden impulse surged through him—should he just wake her up and ask her everything?
He had to know. He needed to understand exactly what this so-called “borrowed flesh” entailed.
But just as he was about to act, that lingering, haunting voice called out to him once again.
“Tang Tang, I’ve prepared bathwater for you and even made something to eat. You should let Grandma rest well—she’s an old woman now, and she can’t afford to overexert herself. Besides, you haven’t rested properly in a long time either. You don’t look well at all… It makes me feel so distressed.”
Gan Tang stood silently in the shadows of his grandma’s room, listening to the gentle, warm voice speaking from behind the thin wooden door.
“Tang Tang?”
“Tang Tang, why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Oh no… You’re not feeling unwell too, are you?”
“Tang Tang… I’m coming in, okay?”
A faint “click” sounded as the doorknob turned slightly.
Gan Tang shuddered and snapped back to his senses.
He instinctively turned and positioned himself between the door and his grandma’s bed.
“D-Don’t come in! I’m coming out right now!”
The boy’s voice was dry and hoarse.
Even though he knew it was pointless, Gan Tang still didn’t want to let that “thing” outside step into his grandma’s room.
Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the overwhelming urge to stay hidden in the room. Step by step, he forced himself to move toward the door.
But just as he was about to leave, his gaze inadvertently landed on a sewing basket in the corner of the room.
Among the fabric scraps and spools of thread, a pair of scissors was tucked inside.
It was the one Grandma used for cutting cloth—always kept sharp to avoid ruining the fabric.
Gan Tang’s eyes lingered on the scissors for a moment. Then, without any hesitation, he picked them up and hid them in his sleeve before finally opening the door and stepping out.
*
Cen Zibai hadn’t been lying.
Even though, by definition, he was supposed to be a pampered young master from the city—someone who should have been completely clueless about the crude and complicated water-heating setup in a rural home—
But in just the brief moment Gan Tang had spent in his grandma’s room, “Cen Zibai” had already managed to heat the water, ensuring that Gan Tang could take a proper bath despite his exhaustion.
Of course, Gan Tang didn’t lower his guard.
If he truly had a choice, he wouldn’t have acknowledged “Cen Zibai’s” overly eager hospitality at all… In fact, the moment he realized that the other party might not even be human, every trait that resembled “gentleness,” “obedience,” or “innocence” only made his skin crawl.
However, the “mark” that “Cen Zibai” had left on him in the forest—meant to ward off the two worm creatures—had an unbearably strong scent.
Even though it was just a faint, musky, metallic odor, Gan Tang still found it intolerable.
In the end, he gave in.
Under “Cen Zibai’s” attentive gaze, he stepped into the bathroom, still full of vigilance.
“Hah…”
The hot water quickly washed away the dirt and sweat from his body. Even though he knew the danger was far from over, Gan Tang still exhaled deeply in the misty steam, allowing himself a moment of relief.
But that relief didn’t last long.
Turning his head slightly, he glanced at his own shoulder…
Against his pale skin, patches of purple-red bruises stood out starkly.
They looked exactly like kiss marks.
Except, the kiss marks Gan Tang knew of didn’t come with shallow, ring-shaped bite marks.
The moment he recalled the reckless decision he had made in his panic—and the unnervingly distinct sensation of “Cen Zibai” licking him—his jaw tensed.
A faint tremor ran through his body.
Then, he furiously lathered himself with soap, scrubbing the places “Cen Zibai” had brazenly bitten and sucked. He rubbed so hard with the coarse washcloth that tiny specks of blood surfaced on his skin.
So dirty.
So disgusting.
The sharp sting from the relentless scrubbing barely registered in his mind, drowned out by the neurotic screams echoing in his head.
He didn’t even know if he was being paranoid, but even after all that scrubbing, when he sniffed his skin closely, he could still faintly catch that scent through the fragrance of the soap.
That barely-there stench…
At some point, it had seeped through his soaked clothes, through his bitten skin, burrowing deep into his very being.
He wanted to—
He wanted to just cut this patch of skin off.
Or—
He wanted to kill that “thing” once and for all.
Gan Tang clenched his fists.
His gaze flicked to the pile of dirty clothes he had taken off. Beneath the fabric, hidden among the folds, was the pair of scissors he had taken from his grandma’s room.
His fingers twitched slightly.
Then, he slowly shifted his gaze to the gap beneath the bathroom door.
Outside, a small lamp cast a dim light, illuminating a distinct shadow in the narrow slit.
Although “Cen Zibai” hadn’t made a single sound, Gan Tang knew the boy was standing completely still right outside the door.
And he was certain—absolutely certain—that right now, that thing was probably watching the door with a delighted expression, listening to the sound of him bathing.
Maybe even… doing something he shouldn’t be doing.
Gan Tang’s stomach churned. He furrowed his brows, the nausea rising once again.
He wanted to throw up.
“Tang Tang? Are you done bathing?”
As if he could see through the door, the voice came at the exact moment Gan Tang’s expression darkened, a gentle and affectionate inquiry drifting from the other side of the door.
“If you’re done, come out soon. You’re really tired today, and staying in the bathroom too long might make you faint.”
Just from the voice alone, he sounded like a harmless, normal person.
Gan Tang’s eyes flicked to the scissors beneath his clothes.
*
A few minutes later, Gan Tang sat stiffly on a chair, dressed in fresh sleepwear, damp strands of hair still clinging to his forehead.
Somehow, “Cen Zibai” had managed to bring over a bowl of warm milk and a boiled egg.
Even though hunger gnawed at him and fatigue weighed him down, the mere thought of accepting food from “Cen Zibai” completely killed his appetite. He didn’t touch a single bite.
But “Cen Zibai” didn’t seem to mind.
He simply sat there, his eyes brimming with mirth as he gazed at the boy on the verge of collapse.
Only when Gan Tang’s face grew paler and paler did he finally speak, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness.
“I’m quite capable, aren’t I?”
“……”
“I was really good today. I did everything Gan Tang told me to.”
“……”
Seeing that Gan Tang remained silent from beginning to end, the boy tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping a little lower than before.
Then, shamelessly, he continued, “Since I’ve been so obedient, shouldn’t Tang Tang reward me?”
Gan Tang’s eyelashes quivered, and the fingers resting on his lap suddenly clenched.
His breathing grew more erratic.
A single droplet of water trickled down from his still-damp hair, sliding along his neck and disappearing beneath his collar—just like a drowned ghost silently extending a finger, tracing an icy line down his back.
His expression stiffened.
“…What?”
He could no longer keep his silence and could only ask back.
A reward? What reward? After all the threats and coercion, this thing actually had the nerve to talk about rewards?
“Cen Zibai” completely ignored the restrained fury in Gan Tang’s eyes. In fact, upon hearing his response, he even broke into a dazzling smile.
“I want to kiss you,” he said. After a slight pause, he hypocritically added, “Is that okay?”
“You…”
Gan Tang trembled slightly.
“Cen Zibai” studied him thoughtfully, then, as if dejected, slumped his shoulders.
“I see… I know you don’t like it when I touch your lips… Then, no need for a kiss on the lips. I won’t force Tang Tang to do anything he doesn’t like. I’m not the same as before.” As he spoke, he blinked at Gan Tang, something writhing faintly in his pitch-black pupils. “Then how about somewhere else? Your neck? Last time when I licked you there, you were really sensitive—it should feel good… Ah, still no? Then… your shoulder… No? Well… your fingers, at least? I could just lick your index and middle finger, you know. My tongue is actually quite long—it can wrap around your fingers perfectly…”
The dim glow of dawn crept in, but without the lights on, the house remained shrouded in darkness.
Gan Tang stared at the tall shadow before him, watching as it babbled excitedly. In the dim light, its eyes flickered like ghostly phosphorescence.
That sticky, lingering gaze followed every word the boy spoke, as if it truly had substance, slithering over Gan Tang’s skin with an unseen touch.
Bit by bit, bit by bit, “Cen Zibai’s” eyes lowered—toward Gan Tang’s feet.
“Hah…”
His breathing grew heavier.
Gan Tang had originally planned to ignore “Cen Zibai’s” deliberate provocation by pretending to be dead. But now, a terrible sense of foreboding seized him.
Before he could react, he saw “Cen Zibai” suddenly kneel before him.
“Then, your feet it is,” he said with a smile. “If my kiss makes you uncomfortable, Tang Tang can just step on me, and I’ll know I was wrong—”
“You pervert!”
Gan Tang could no longer endure it. He lashed out, kicking the bastard’s face with all his strength.
But in the next instant, the boy caught his ankle.
“Shh, let’s take our time… Don’t rush, Tang Tang, don’t rush…”
His voice turned rough and muffled.
A slick, sticky tongue slid across the sole of Gan Tang’s foot, forcing his toes to curl involuntarily.
__
Author’s Note:
Let Bug Bro have one last good meal before he sets off.
