UCS Chapter 104

“Zhizhi, there aren’t enough rooms on the crew’s side.”

A troubled look appeared on Yun Wan’s face. “I’d originally gotten a room from the crew, but I didn’t expect you to bring so many people.”

Yun Zhiyi thought for a moment. “There’s a village next to the crew, right? I’ll go ask if we can stay there.”

Yun Wan said, “Two people can stay here. You and Tian Mian can sleep on this side. The boys and the bodyguards can go to the village. It’s not safe for two girls to stay over at strangers’ homes.”

Before Yun Zhiyi could answer, Zhou Jing and the others agreed first. They were grateful to any household willing to host them, but you still had to stay cautious when away from home. There had been awful incidents exposed before, where girls who stayed over were secretly filmed in private. In this respect, women were more vulnerable than men.

Yun Wan truly handled things thoroughly. She had prepared the room for Yun Zhiyi in advance. The bedding had clearly been aired beforehand, fluffy and soft, giving a warm, cozy feeling in the snowy weather.

Though the bed was a single, Yun Zhiyi and Tian Mian had shared a small dorm bed back at school plenty of times.

After filming ended, Yun Wan brought warm milk and knocked on the door. The three girls chatted for a while. As night deepened, Yun Wan said goodbye to them and promised Tian Mian she would take her to see Xiao Yusheng the next day.

They had thought they might sleep poorly in an unfamiliar place, but drowsiness hit hard. Yun Zhiyi and Tian Mian yawned one after the other. They turned off the light. Outside, the wind was faint. Soon, they were asleep.

…

Midnight.

The door was gently pushed open.

People slipped in one by one, their bodies carrying a chill—the scent of wind and snow.

“City princesses. The True Immortal will surely be pleased.”

Yun Zhiyi snapped awake. Sensing unfamiliar presences in the room, she was shocked and reached for the soft sword beside her pillow, but her whole body felt weak and limp. She couldn’t muster any strength, and her eyelids were as heavy as if glued shut.

Beside her, Tian Mian slept soundly and didn’t even stir.

Who were these people?

Their accent was unfamiliar—villagers from here?

How had they come into the crew’s area?

Drowsiness surged like a demon. The people around her seemed to be talking, still using dialect she couldn’t understand.

Seizing what clarity she had, Yun Zhiyi’s hand struggled to slide toward the head of the bed, grabbing her phone.

She couldn’t light the screen or make any sound. With no signal, she couldn’t even hold the power key to dial emergency services. Her mind spun fast as lightning. Using her neatly trimmed nails, she scraped hard across the screen protector.

The original soft film that came with the phone hadn’t yet been replaced, so it took faint nail marks. She wanted to carve the characters for “villagers” on the screen, but those people had already finished talking and were walking toward her.

Using the last of her strength, Yun Zhiyi pulled Tian Mian into her arms—then sank into unconsciousness.

＊＊＊

Back in the room, Gao Shi lay on the bed. His mind shifted between images of the suffering girls in the village and Xiao Yusheng’s ambiguous interactions with two different women. It took him a long time to feel drowsy.

Beside him, Gao Gusheng slept without a care, one arm wrapped around his small monkey plush, lying on his back and snoring softly.

Looking at his son, sleeping like a little piglet, the tight furrow in Gao Shi’s brows eased slightly. He pulled the quilt up and patted his head before lying down himself.

Gao Shi hadn’t expected that, after a month, he would dream again.

He hadn’t had a prophetic dream for some time now. He didn’t know whether the plot deviation had grown too great or because the scumbag leads’ appearances were still far off.

This time in the dream, he saw Gao Gusheng like a broken doll.

He sat at the home dining table, doing nothing, just staring blankly ahead.

He’d been thrown out of the “Gui” household, with one kidney and a cornea taken.

One eye was clouded, as if covered with a white film. His body hadn’t fully healed, and his wounds still throbbed with pain, draining the color from his face.

If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the sunlight at the window, the fresh autumn wind carrying tulip fragrance to his side. Blushing, he’d once sat on Gui Yan’s lap, listening to him recite a French love poem in a slow, lingering tone.

They had kissed in a summer dusk, the setting sun burning the sky gold-red. Gui Yan’s gaze on him seemed filled with molten gold.

[Ah Yue, I love you.]

He had murmured words of love again and again like a believer praying to a deity. Under the midnight starlight, they had climbed to the peak together. Gui Yan’s burning kisses fell at the corners of his eyes, his lowered gaze so devout.

But then the scene reversed, the world spun, and he realized only then how cold Gui Yan’s voice could be.

[Sorry. Mingyue needs your kidney and cornea. You’re the best, aren’t you?]

[Did you really think I’d love a stray dog I picked up off the street?]

[Get out! You’re really scheming, hiding it from me for so long. I originally wanted to let you recover and give you some money. Now it seems you should have died by that trash bin in the first place.]

[If I see you approach Mingyue again… you don’t want to know the consequences.]

Bodyguards dragged him out. By then he’d already lost an eye, everything he saw tinted gray. He struggled to say he hadn’t done it, but they clamped a hand over his mouth and hauled him backward. Standing behind Gui Yan, Bai Mingyue looked frail and delicate. The gaze he cast was too complicated to read.

He almost wanted to laugh.

He wanted Bai Mingyue to open his eyes and see what right he had to be so afraid of him, to slander him so ruthlessly.

Gui Yan loved Bai Mingyue so much. In half a year together, even without Bai Mingyue present, he was everywhere.

Those tulips were Bai Mingyue’s favorite flowers. The poetry translator’s name was “Mingyue.” The white clothes were Bai Mingyue’s favorite color. Even the pet name for him was “Ah Yue.”

Ah Yue, Ah Yue—when calling that name, who was Gui Yan really thinking of?

Dark memories enveloped him like stepping into a sticky, foul-smelling swamp. Negative emotions attracted eyes lurking in the shadows, watching for an opportunity.

Cold breath crept up his arm. Gao Gusheng jolted violently and snapped awake from the memory.

At some point, the sky had completely darkened. Dark clouds completely obscured the sun. Though it was clearly midsummer, there was a bone-chilling cold.

Gao Gusheng got up, ignoring the pain at his waist, and hurried outside. He knew—these things had latched onto him again.

Before learning Gui Yan and Li Mochen’s true natures, these ghostly things had disappeared for a while, but after the two revealed their true faces, they came back.

Gao Gusheng almost thought he had mental problems, some kind of depression-like condition. But he had no money, and his experience being controlled by a psychological counselor had instilled an instinctive fear of that profession.

It would be better in a crowd.

Gao Gusheng walked hurriedly outside. The phone rang. He flinched like a startled rabbit, then carefully took out his phone.

Seeing the contact name, Gao Gusheng’s tense back relaxed slightly. “Hello? Ah Hua.”

Mo Hua had known him since the orphanage. They had escaped from human traffickers together and once shared a single cookie. He was Gao Gusheng’s lifelong close friend.

But because of him, Li Mochen had vented his anger on everyone at the orphanage. The orphanage had been shut down.

On the day the orphanage closed, he’d secretly gone to look. He saw the director crying, her face covered in tears, and the children being separated and sent in different directions, wailing. Mo Hua stood there, eyes red.

He had no face to contact Mo Hua again.

But later Mo Hua found him. He didn’t say much about what happened to him, only that the orphanage closure was caused by him—not because he was ashamed to share his experiences, but because he didn’t want those beasts to target Mo Hua because of him.

Mo Hua would stand up for him. He definitely would. That was just the kind of person he was.

After hearing his words, Mo Hua was silent for a moment. He didn’t comfort him much, only stated the fact that the company owning the orphanage had been poorly managed. Even without Gao Gusheng, the orphanage would have closed eventually.

If Gao Gusheng truly felt guilty, then he should live well and strive to rebuild the orphanage someday.

He would help.

How much money would it take to support an orphanage? Obviously a huge expense. But Mo Hua’s words gave Gao Gusheng a goal, something to help him persist when threatened by Xiao Yusheng.

Speaking of mental support—the orphanage was one, and Mo Hua was another.

While talking with Mo Hua, the cold around him dissipated considerably.

…

Back home, Gao Gusheng, having adjusted his mood, made himself dinner.

His cooking skills were decent, honed from wandering outside.

A bowl of rice, a plate of tomato and egg, a plate of mushrooms with bok choy, a bowl of millet porridge. Physical warmth reached his heart. Don’t think about Gui Yan. Close your eyes and force yourself to sleep.

After he fell asleep, a black shadow coalesced beside him. This was a long-haired man in ancient costume—snow-white skin, black hair, yet crimson lips and crimson eye corners.

His long hair fell as the shadow drilled into Gao Gusheng’s brow.

So in his dream, Gao Gusheng saw this man.

“Who are you?”

Even in the dream, Gao Gusheng instinctively felt something was wrong and unconsciously stepped back.

But the man appeared behind him like a ghost.

Cold, slender hands gently caressed his neck. The man chuckled and bit his earlobe. “Ghost King Tian Lin, your husband.”

Gao Shi’s fury surged. He glared at the man calling himself the Ghost King. In the dream, the Ghost King seemed to sense something and looked up.

Gao Shi’s eyes were like lightning. In that instant, the Ghost King seemed struck by something and staggered violently. The dream collapsed.

＊＊＊

Deep mountains.

The man’s eyes snapped open.

“What sharp energy.”

In his hand was something palm-sized resembling a gear. This thing seemed metal yet not metal, jade yet not jade. It felt ice-cold to the touch, yet radiated gentle warmth.

After awakening, Ghost King Tian Lin had found this thing in his tomb.

He didn’t know what it was, but instinctively felt it would greatly help him. The spiritual energy overflowing from it had restored him to his peak in just a few short months.

If he could fully master it, he would surely benefit immensely.

However, just now, while sensing this thing, he felt sharp energy transmit through it, nearly scorching his spirit body.

“There also seems to be a faint, familiar aura. What could it be…”

As he pondered, the night-shining pearl at the door flashed. He drawled, “Enter.”

A person walked into the hall with head lowered, not daring to look directly at his face.

“True Immortal, they’ve sent up three women. The Extreme Yin Flower reacted to all of them—all virgins. But one has something special about her. We weren’t sure, so we brought her to you.”

The unconscious girl was carried into the hall. A small wooden protective talisman slipped from her neck—already destroyed.

The Ghost King sensed a familiar aura from it.

He was startled, then laughed softly.

“I didn’t expect this king’s bride, instead of waiting for this king to fetch him, would come chasing after me himself.”

The next second, the Ghost King sitting on the high platform vanished.

***