Famine

Chapter 9

Don't tell me now that the dictionary of abjection has added the new word "morality".

"What are you saying?!" she shouted. "If I didn't kill for food, would I seem like such a shameless person? Only humans could be so shameless!"

"What nonsense are you spouting?" I protested, exhausted. "What's the difference between the monsters' love triangles, revenge killings, and battles for honor that you used to tell me about? Now you're trying to distance yourself from them so easily!"

"What do those demons know?" Huang'e scoffed. "They don't learn the good things, they only pick up the worst aspects of humanity..."

She chattered away happily, completely ignoring my critical illness. Those vengeful spirits roamed in droves, their resentment reaching the heavens. These idiots nearly killed me; I even sacrificed my precious health to pull a slingshot – they really were going to kill me.

I'm determined to never do such meddlesome things again. If I want to live a few more years, I simply can't afford to do this.

But the desolation mocked me loudly, and I had no strength to refute it.

My roommates all know I'm in poor health and get sick all the time, so they're used to it. They'll offer a few words of comfort and then disappear without a trace. I'm actually quite grateful for their heartlessness; my kind of "illness" can only be treated with rest, and having any troublemakers around would be too much, especially not them.

Tang Chen is good in every way, except for this kind of heartlessness. He calls me ten or more times a day, always choosing the moment I'm sound asleep... That's probably a talent.

"Are you feeling any better?" he always asked with concern. "How did you suddenly become so ill?"

I rolled my eyes. Who's responsible for me getting so sick? This semester isn't even halfway over and it's already this bad... I'm starting to seriously consider transferring schools.

“…It’s okay, I’m just not very healthy,” I replied in a breathy voice.

"What would you like to eat? I'll bring it over."

"...Boys aren't allowed in the girls' dorms, thank you for your trouble." I hung up the phone, feeling exhausted.

So he asked the dormitory supervisor to bring over a large basket of apples and a thermos of steaming herbal tea. By the time I woke up, the apples were beyond saving. That basket of apples was a gift from "Tang Sanzang" (the monk in Journey to the West), not meant for human consumption. Did he not even get to taste the "gift"? When I woke up again, the basket of apples, which should have been fresh and sweet, was dried up like mummies, all their life force drained. Within ten minutes, maggots started wriggling around.

I still have to drag my trembling, weak body to humanely destroy that basket of apples. Looking at the thermos… I'm really afraid it will be a complete mess when I open it…

I reluctantly opened the door, only to find the entire original inhabitants had fled, even the elusive creatures had escaped through the window. I stared in astonishment at the quiet room, then sniffed the herbal tea. It was rather pungent… probably very stimulating for the aliens.

What a strange herbal tea. It actually tastes like mugwort and laurel. I tried taking a sip... I frowned in disgust, but at the same time, I breathed a sigh of relief.

This strange herbal tea is supposed to "ward off evil spirits." I would find it repulsive; it's probably a chaotic mix of bad luck. But after drinking it, I really felt much more relaxed.

I went to bed and slept, working up a sweat. Surprisingly, I had the energy to get up and take a shower. After showering, I felt refreshed, and more than half of the serious illness that had lingered for several days was gone.

When Tang Chen called again, I had the energy to speak. I thanked him for the tea, and he was very happy. "If you like it, it's really good for your health! I'll brew a pot for you every day and send it to you."

"I can cook it myself," I quickly stopped him. He comes like this every day; I wonder what kind of juicy gossip he'll make up. "Just buy me a few, I can cook it in my dorm, I'll pay you back later..."

Of course, he didn't want my money. He kept saying it was very cheap and actually gave me about ten packets, along with a coffee machine and filter paper.

Although it's a bit strange to use a coffee machine to brew herbal tea... I can't even stay in the wilderness when I start brewing herbal tea, let alone the indigenous people.

With the strange creatures unable to get close, the chances of catching a cold were reduced. After drinking it for five or six days, I was completely cured. I was utterly amazed by this miraculous herbal tea. So when Tang Chen suggested taking me to that coffee shop, I didn't refuse.

When I got to that coffee shop, I had the urge to rush out the door.

It was a very strange little shop. Occasionally I would go down the mountain to buy things, and some shops would make me avoid them. It wasn't that these shops were bad, but either the gods they worshipped were very exclusive, and someone like me with a frivolous and demonic aura couldn't go in, or there was trouble inside.

I can't quite explain why this place is like this. It's not exactly a place of divine power, yet it lacks that sharp, ruthless killing intent; it's not exactly troublesome, yet it lacks that eerie, ghostly aura. It's neither entirely black nor entirely white—it's truly a gray area.

To put it bluntly, it was complete chaos. Anyone with even a modicum of insight wouldn't want to go in; just looking from the outside, you could tell business was slow. Only Tang Chen, with his double-layered submarine cable nerves, was oblivious and happily pushed open the door.

Even knowing it was a tiger's den, he had already entered. Could I turn around and run away? With a tense expression, I also lowered my head and went in. When I looked up, I was "pressed down" by a huge "Mandala".

I stood frozen in place, unable to move. That treacherous fellow, Huang'e, was incredibly decisive; he didn't even want the flesh of Tang Sanzang, and flew away in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a few feathers.

Let me explain what a "Mandala" is.

The term "Mandala" (Sanskrit for "circle") originally referred to a place for Buddhist esoteric practices and visualization, and was regarded as a microcosm of the universe inhabited by all things.

Swiss psychologist Carl Jung envisioned the mandala as the core of the holistic self, believing that drawing mandalas possesses the power to explore the inner world, and thus it was transformed into a theory and method of art therapy.

Mandala painting usually involves first drawing a circle on paper, and then naturally creating within the circle. "A circular mandala is like a mirror, reflecting one's inner self, allowing people to encounter themselves through simple painting; a mandala is also like a womb or container, nurturing all kinds of possibilities."

This is the most common explanation.

Tantric mandalas are usually sand paintings, exquisitely beautiful, and destroyed after completion. However, since Jung proposed the possibility of mandalas as a form of art therapy, many people have drawn them on paper.

But this kind of thing is deeply related to the artist's ability. The reason I know this so clearly is because my school counselor loved this kind of thing. I, this problem student, often went in and out of the counseling room and was forced by him to look at mandala picture books that were like a real nightmare to me.

At that time, Huang E and I were getting along very badly. With a mandala, she could always delve deeper and find the most vicious and despicable secrets buried in the subconscious.

Frankly, it's terrifying to know that the teacher you're alone with harbors some kind of lustful fantasy. It's best for everyone not to delve too deeply into the surface of civilization.

But the mandala before me did not reveal any malice or baseness. It was a cold chaos, utterly devoid of order. Since there was no order, there was naturally no transcendence of good and evil.

The closest form of this chaos is sleep... or death.

Many people claim to be fearless of death, but in reality, they have never stood before death; the distance is always too far. But every living being… or ever was a living being, experiences fear and submission. This is the deepest and strongest instinct of all living beings, and only the most courageous can confront this fear.

I lack this rare courage.

Just as I was being "oppressed" to the point of almost kneeling down, I heard a hoarse chuckle.

The laughter relieved the terrible oppression, and the mandala was just a painting again.

I turned around, and without saying a word, I knew she was the owner of the shop.

This was the first time I had ever met a real witch.

To be honest, I can't tell her age.

She could be anywhere from fourteen to forty-one years old, because she's really... not tall. She's supposedly "150cm," but I don't know if that's an unconditional carry-over calculation.

Her face was neither old nor young. Her pupils were larger than average, wide open like a cat's eyes. But that was it... she was just like any other girl you'd find on the street. Neither beautiful nor ugly, she stubbornly remained in the middle.

Even her attire was perplexingly simple and ordinary: a white shirt, blue denim knee-length skirt. If she weren't wearing an apron, I would have thought she was an office worker.

This café was unremarkable. Aside from the terrifying mandala painting, there was almost no decoration; each table had a potted plant of herbs against a backdrop of snow-white tablecloths. The menu was simple, the food was decent, but nothing particularly special.

But I just knew she was a real witch.

This is complex and difficult to understand, much like how different species deeply understand each other. Typically, in the "communication" of different species, language plays only a very small role. They are more likely to "deeply imbue" each other with emotions, expressing themselves quickly and precisely.

If language is an intangible script emphasizing outlines, then the deep shading of otherworldly forms is a painting devoid of outlines. It relies entirely on color for expression, its scope being planes rather than points.

The shop owner used this kind of "deeply tinged" expression when she looked at me. She generously let me know her identity, just as I was forced to let her know the profound and unavoidable connection between me and the opposite sex.

She gave me a deep look, then glanced at Tang Chen, and then smiled.

I couldn't help but argue in my heart, "I don't need to carry him for the rest of my life."

She didn't say anything, but took it upon herself to bring over a pot of herbal tea that we hadn't ordered. I felt stifled and annoyed. Tang Chen wasn't my responsibility, why should I carry his burden for the rest of my life? I was very unhappy about being pitied like this by this witch-like shopkeeper.

But as we parted, she smiled and said, "I'm a reclusive person, and it's rare for me to feel that we're destined to meet. Come visit me more often when you have time..." Then she handed me a large bag of herbal tea and a small packet of round moonstones.

"Use it as a shield. Seeing your entanglements, even I, someone who has left this world, find it quite amusing," she thought to herself.

"Thank you so much, witch." I retorted irritably.

My name is "Shuo".

I glared at her, quite taken aback. These mystical practitioners, regardless of time or place, always guard their true names extremely closely. I don't know why she would tell me.

A gentle breeze rustled through the trees. Take care. She bid Tang Chen a kind farewell, but in her heart, she kept telling me: Cherish your feathered companion.

Her black cat darted out and squatted down beside her.

The return trip that day was surprisingly safe. I knew it was because of the guards.

Later, Shuo and I became good friends. Someone as eccentric as me could only confide in her. If it weren't for her support with herbal tea and moonstone, I probably wouldn't have survived to finish university.

I finally have a weapon that can barely be considered a weapon. I no longer need to waste my "health" by using moonstone that has been exposed to the moon, and the effect is almost the same, except that I feel a pang of heartache every time I fire a shot. Although Shuo sold it to me at a very low price, my consumption rate is really staggering. The old man will never help me, and Tang Chen is always running into danger.

But her relationship with Huang E was extremely hostile... or rather, it was Huang E who was one-sidedly aggressive. The truly hostile relationship was between Huang E and the black cat named "Guan Haifa," who were always at each other's throats.

"She must have ulterior motives!" Huang E shouted angrily. "She definitely wants to take advantage of Tang Guai, maybe even put him in a steamer..."

"You can see what she's thinking?" I asked, my eyes fixed on the book.

Huang E was stunned for a moment, then became angry and embarrassed. "That kind of inexplicable witch, even a ghost couldn't see through her thoughts! I don't care, I don't care! You're not allowed to go see her again! Ugh, I'm so angry, so angry!"

She was so angry that she plucked out her feathers and rolled on the ground, making a huge fuss.

I turned a page of the book and didn't even want to acknowledge her.

(The Witch's End)

The Eight Haunted Houses of Desolation

Generally speaking, Tang Chen is a cautious person.

While it's impossible to carry an entire bag full of amulets, he always makes sure to wear one, and he has a very instinctive knack for recognizing valuable ones, always choosing the most effective ones. Although these kinds of amulets usually disappear after warding off disasters and are used up very quickly, it seems possible for them to provide protection until the end of the semester.

His schoolbag always contained the Diamond Sutra and the Bible, and he would always go to pay his respects to the local earth god on the 26th of each lunar month. Although people thought he had some quirks, his warm and gentle nature and the principle that "a righteous person is truly good" made him extremely popular, with his popularity showing a trend of exceeding expectations.

I admit, he and I were indeed very close, but he also had good relationships with other girls. And he's a truly kind person; he openly admitted a long time ago that he had a girlfriend in high school, who went on to study at Tsinghua University, but they're still dating.

Perhaps it was his frankness and directness that made me admire him. People aren't stones; feelings can easily develop over time. Even if he wasn't interested, what if the other person accidentally fell for him? Wouldn't that be a mistake? He was straightforward, cutting off any possibility directly, unlike other guys who just wanted to "give in"...

These days, splitting seven or eight boats in a row is becoming commonplace, so it's rare to see such a retro and honest good person.

But there are always people who are determined to "win the bid even if it means risking their lives," and there's really nothing you can do about it.

Our department is the humanities group, so there are more girls. Among these boys, Tang Chen is undoubtedly the most dazzling. Although most people have a strong survival instinct and wouldn't consider Tang Chen as a romantic partner—after all, that era is long gone—there are always girls whose instincts are almost nonexistent, who like him more and more the more they look at him, and who are determined to "get the moon first from the water tower."

The most enthusiastic among them was a girl named "Xiao Lian." Of course, that wasn't her real name. As for me, a guy who had a miserable childhood, I've read very few comic books, but I've read quite a few classic novels like Journey to the West and Dream of the Red Chamber, which are absolutely mind-blowing. I'm seriously out of touch with the times.

So I simply don't understand why someone who neither writes novels nor poetry would choose the name "Nanase Koi" and expect everyone to call her "Koi-chan." I also don't understand why there are families; even though they're all classmates, why are some people mothers and some grandmothers, and why are some pets and some owners?

This is really frustrating for me. The kinship chart is so complicated that even the genealogy of the Dream of the Red Chamber can't compare. It's amazing that they all understand it so clearly, even my few roommates who are super thick-skinned can figure it out.

No wonder my interpersonal relationships are so bad. I guess it has a lot to do with logic, and I'm terrible at logic.

"That's an online nickname," even Huang E said disdainfully. "I've never seen such a clueless girl!"

"The internet?" I was even more confused. "Isn't the internet just for looking up information and reading novels?"

"...What era are you from, some college student from another time?!" Huang E couldn't take it anymore. "You can't even type on a BBS or join a chat room?! I don't expect anything from you in online games... You can't even connect to a dragon!"

Why should I have meaningless conversations with strangers across a screen? What can't be said face-to-face?

"I don't want to talk to you anymore!!" Huang E roared at me. "I'd rather watch TV!" With that, she stormed out.

…Should I feel sad about being abandoned by my own shikigami to this extent?

Sigh, I've gone way off topic.

In short, Xiao Lian was very interested in Tang Chen, so she was inevitably a little wary of me. Maybe it was because Tang Chen always spoke to me politely and seriously, or maybe it was because I was so inconspicuous and eccentric that I was famous in both the top and lower ports, so they quickly stopped seeing me as a rival and dragged Tang Chen into their little circle.

Their little circle was full of handsome men and beautiful women, and their biggest interest was singing. Tang Chen dragged me there twice. Although I was afraid of those closed-off yet lively places, I had to admit that their singing was really good, and they were also very good-looking. They were truly God's favorites.

But I don't get along with them at all. Their little circle can't tolerate a speck of sand like me, and I don't expect to become a pearl if I go there.