Dandan turned to run. Zhigao braced himself on a mound of earth, blocking her with both hands. Seeing that she had nowhere to run, he was also a little anxious, but seeing Re'er, he couldn't let her go.
"Nuan Nuan, don't run away, let me finish what I have to say. You'll have to find a husband someday. My family doesn't require you to serve your mother-in-law."
Dandan was caught in a dilemma: listening was one thing, running away was another. Her heart pounded with fear. Was being nicer to Zhigao simply revenge for Huaiyu's mistreatment? She'd tried it before, but it never worked. Why provoke him? It wasn't fair to him. Zhigao was her best friend.
He couldn't hear her innermost thoughts. Everything she said was simply to make him feel better. There was no hidden hardship, only this: her heart was mostly filled with tenderness, with a small portion devoted to ambition, leaving her ultimately restless. His soul was in her hands. He was soulless, and so was she. —This was the meaning of attachment. Like a kite string, with each tug and pull, she was on the verge of death.
How terrifying is infatuation. He tormented her like this, and yet he remained completely unaware.
Like a swarm of ants suddenly scattered and crawling, my heart aches with a tiny, scratching, gnawing pain. I have absolutely no say in it.
In her moment of utter confusion, she suddenly remembered the person who knew her entire life.
"Cut Cake Bro—"
"Dandan, look how big I've grown. Why don't you call me Zhigao? I'll use my real name when I sing opera."
"Sigh, I can't change. Brother Cut Cake, let's go find Old Man Wang. The question we asked was... I don't even know what to ask?"
Zhi Gao recalled GM saying, "The person you'll meet in the future isn't the person in your heart." He was in a dilemma.
"Why are you asking? He's not effective."
"I'm going!" Dandan turned and left. Only when she arrived at the Yonghe Temple did she truly lose her mind.
The door was just a scratch.
Before even arriving, a strange, foul odor wafted through the air, and the once bright and clear sky inexplicably darkened, as if some injustice had shrouded the sun.
Dandan and Zhigao covered their noses and pushed open the door:
"My husband!"
The room was really dark, so I simply pushed the door wide open.
"Husband Wang, we've come to see you!"
There was no response.
The mahogany chest, the bed and soft quilt are all there, and bamboo sticks are scattered all over the floor, like a divination that has not yet been settled.
"Wang Laogong—ah—" Dandan suddenly kicked something hard, not knowing if it was the hard lump that hit her. She stumbled, half falling and half getting up, and saw the white bones, Wang Laogong's long fingernails, with white hair still wrapped in the withered bones, white hair that never dies.
Zhigao suddenly yanked off the soft blanket at the foot of the bed, and a dozen cats rushed out with a whoosh. The blanket was not soft at all; it had dried bloodstains inside, and was covered in red ink stains all day long.
Wang's husband is gone. —He is here. But is that really him? Who knows when he died? Now, the cats he raised and nurtured, the cats that have multiplied and reincarnated in his nest for three or four generations, have devoured him completely!
The only remaining human form was hunched over, a withered skeleton beyond the reach of water, its heart and lungs stained with blood, rotting flesh, and urine, transforming this tiny room into a palace of demons, an underground royal palace. He came from the palace, and returned to the palace.
Who knows when those cats started sharing their food? They ate and slept, slept and ate again; this old man, in this life and the next, nourished a group of lives he had loved. Perhaps an outsider had stumbled upon their tryst; more than twenty pairs of eyes, gleaming with a bluish light, stared unblinkingly at the two of them. Turning away, their expressions unchanged, they merely listened nonchalantly to her trembling heartbeats: puff, puff, puff, puff, puff—…
The cat betrayed her husband, the king!
He loved them so much, yet he was betrayed and retaliated against, ending up eating their flesh and sleeping on their bones, never to be reincarnated. He was such a fool. He received no reward, only ruthlessness.
The world is utterly heartless.
Suddenly the sound of a flute came, a mournful and heartbreaking melody, but no trace of the severed intestines could be found on the ground—the murderer's life was thus extended.
The sound of that flute was like the dying resentment of someone on the verge of death, trying to shoo away the buzzing flies fighting for blood...
Dandan's face was ashen, tears streaming down her face. Her legs trembled and gave way, and she collapsed into Zhigao's arms.
The flute music accompanied her all the way, and she drifted off into a daze, unaware that she was a stranger in a dream. She vividly remembered them all turning their heads at once, giving her a merciless glance.
All I know is that love and affection have been severed, all thoughts have turned to ashes, scattered by the wind, and can be grasped with a single hand—
Huaiyu held her hand tightly and called to her:
"Dandan! Dandan!"
She asked:
Who is it?
He said, "It's me, I'm back. Shanghai isn't my home. They're just playing dirty tricks on me, and now I'm back—"
"Even if I'm living a life worse than death, I don't need your concern. Just leave!"
"I'm not leaving."
"Don't you have female celebrities with you?"
"I ran away to be with you."
Huaiyu leaned closer to Dandan.
Dandan felt something tickling her, and Huaiyu pressed closer and closer. The cemetery... she thought, it's Buddha! That Yin-Yang dual cultivation Buddha of joy. Soft and weak, her mind unsettled, she couldn't quite put her finger on it, yes, joy—
Confused and reckless, she decided to resign herself to fate; all her sorrows and resentments were no match for his return.
"Hey, come back—"
Huaiyu turned around and saw a woman. She seemed familiar from a photograph, but Dandan couldn't make out who she was. She saw the woman holding a black cat, her red sleeves waving from a decorated tower. With a single wave, Huaiyu shoved her away abruptly, and without a word, strode off. Dandan still reached out and grabbed, shouting:
"No, no, no! You're gone, but your soul is in my hands! I won't let you go!"
The black cat swooped down from the top of the decorated building—it was it! Completely black, without a single stray hair, it stretched out its sharp claws, its cold, razor-sharp teeth tearing at her flesh with a hissing, savage sound. She saw her own bones… “Ah—” she screamed, suddenly sitting up, cold sweat streaming down her stiff neck.