Blood-sucking fangs

Chapter 28

Zhang Hanwen bit her lip hard, her chest heaving. She closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions, but when she opened them, her eyes burned like flames: "Bastard!"

Before Feng Nian'en could react, Zhang Hanwen continued to berate her: "I always thought you were a fool, but now I know you're a bastard! You're a despicable bastard! A cowardly bastard! Do you think that keeping quiet means you're not at fault? Do you think that always listening to me means you're right? Do you think that's all it takes to hide your bastard nature behind a mask of hypocrisy? Do you think... do you think you—who are you?!"

Zhang Hanwen cursed loudly, his voice hoarse with sobs, and the last sentence was even more insane.

"Who do you think you are?"

Before Feng Nian'en could answer, Si Wen coldly interrupted.

Zhang Hanwen glanced at her, then looked at Feng Nian'en: "I don't know when you started liking to deal with this kind of person."

"This kind of person?" the girl sneered. "What kind of person? A delinquent? A thug? Miss, of course I don't belong to the so-called high society, but even someone like me is still better than those who break into other people's homes and point fingers at the owners, shouting and cursing."

"Siwen!" Feng Nian'en quickly pulled the girl back.

"Let her leave." Zhang Hanwen looked at Feng Nian'en, not getting angry at the girl's sarcastic remarks.

"Leave? On what grounds? This house belongs to the idiot, what right do you have to kick me out?"

"Idiot?" Zhang Hanwen was still looking at Feng Nian'en, but his eyes, which were originally watery, now seemed to be covered with a thin layer of ice, fragile and cold.

"So it's you who's leaving!" Although she found both of their attitudes somewhat suspicious, the girl still shouted. She didn't know why she was acting so strangely, or why she had been angry since the first time she saw Zhang Hanwen. Her habitually indulgent mind had never delved into her own heart.

"let her go!"

“You can tell me what you want to say, there’s no need…”

"Are you going back? I'll come find you again in a little while." Before the girl could finish speaking, Feng Nian'en interrupted. He took a deep breath and, facing the girl's angry glare, forced a smile. "I swear I will never go back on my word, or I'll be punished by having to treat you to dinner every day from now on."

He spoke, looking at the girl pleadingly.

Si Wen clenched his fists, looked at Zhang Hanwen's profile, then suddenly turned around and quickly returned to his home.

After the girl slammed her iron gate shut, Feng Nian'en looked away, then closed the door and walked past Zhang Hanwen into the living room.

"What would you like to drink, miss? I don't think I have many drinks here. I used to have some milk, but I haven't bought it in a long time. If you'd like, I can..."

"shut up!"

A sharp, low shout interrupted him.

Feng Nian'en stiffened, about to say something, when a barrage of sharp questions came crashing down on her: "I'm asking you why you didn't tell me! I'm asking you why you called me 'Miss'! I'm asking you why you didn't answer my questions! I'm asking you what you take me for! And what you take yourself for!"

She shouted it all out in one breath, her eyes fixed on him.

The glow of the setting sun shone through the glass, painting the living room red. A warm breeze, seeping in through the cracks, gently wafted through the room, and the white gauze curtains fluttered in the wind like tiny waves in a gentle breeze.

The two looked at each other in silence. After a long time, Feng Nian'en said in a low, strained voice, "Miss, because... you are Miss."

“Because I am a young lady?” Zhang Hanwen looked at him, her beautiful eyes calm and deep like a mirror.

“Because, I am, Miss?” she repeated.

Feng Nian'en turned her face away, not daring to meet her gaze.

Was it really just because she was a prostitute? Was it really just because of her status? He didn't know, and he didn't need to know. There had never been any possibility between them.

"Because I am a young lady!" Each word seemed to be squeezed out from between clenched teeth, as if using all her strength and hatred. And accompanying these hateful words was a crisp, clear sound!

Feng Nian'en made no move; his pale skin remained expressionless. If it weren't for the clear fingerprints, it would have been as if the slap hadn't even hit his face.

Zhang Hanwen's eyes had already turned pink, and tears welled up in her eyes like dewdrops on leaves, but never fell. Through the mist in her eyes, she glared at the man opposite her, countless grievances, resentment, anger, and unwillingness striking Feng Nian'en's face with her unwavering gaze. He began to feel a pain, a stinging pain from his cheek to his bones.

“I…I saw Mr. Long a few days ago,” he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to say the words he himself despised, “He…he was very worried about you.”

He was prepared to be hit before he said that; in fact, he hoped she would slap him again. But the slap he expected didn't come. He stood there almost breathless, like a statue, his face turned away and never coming back.

He didn't know how much time had passed when his ears finally picked up a sound—the sound of footsteps on the tower floor, slow, heavy, and gradually fading away…

Feng Nian'en stood there quietly, slowly closing his eyes, his middle fingers twitching involuntarily. He tried his best to stand, but his body collapsed uncontrollably.

Time passed, he didn't know how much. When he opened his eyes again, he saw only a pair of brown eyes staring at him without blinking.

"I thought you were dead," the girl said with a smile as he opened his eyes.

Feng Nian'en looked at her, and after a long while, she managed to force a smile, got up from the ground, rubbed her forehead, and said, "Let me treat you to a meal outside."

"Are you still able to go out?"

Why do you ask that?

“Look at your face in the mirror. Even the ugliest ghost is prettier than you! I think you should go to bed right now.” She said, pushing him onto the bed. “What kind of Mongolian doctor would approve your discharge? I think he’s definitely not normal!”

Feng Nian'en staggered as she was pushed to the bedside and forcibly pressed down by the girl.

“But…” He instinctively felt he needed to say something, but he didn’t know how to say it.

"But what?" the girl shouted. "What the hell are you in this state? Do I have to throw you in the hospital? I told you to lie down, so you should lie down obediently!"

He closed his eyes wearily and whispered, "Thank you."

"If you have the energy to say thank you, you'd better make yourself look better. If you're still like this by tomorrow, you'd better watch out!"

The girl's words, both in voice and tone, were very domineering, but to Feng Nian'en, they sounded like they carried a hint of tears. However, he was too weak to pursue these matters now and could only force a smile to respond.

The next day, Feng Nian'en returned to normal; at least she was no longer as ugly as the girl had described the day before.

That day, he accompanied the girl to two meals and watched three VCDs. Whether they were eating or otherwise, there was an eerie and oppressive atmosphere between them. Although the movies they rented were comedies, and although they both laughed from beginning to end, there was not a trace of genuine joy in their exaggerated laughter.

The next day, they repeated the same routine as the previous day.

On the third day, Li Zilin's class was at 10 a.m., but he still hadn't received a call from Zhang Hanwen by 9:30 a.m. He hesitated for a long time before finally deciding to go over anyway.

Having been away from school for only a few days, he felt a sense of loss, as if everything had changed. He sat quietly in the last row, watching Li Zilin's lips move as she copied the chalk writing from the blackboard into her notebook. He stood up with the rest of the class, and just as he was about to leave the classroom, a female voice called out to him. He turned around and saw Li Zilin nodding at him.

“Teacher Li.” He walked over.

"Are you feeling alright? Why do you still look so pale?" She picked up her textbooks and gestured for him to come outside with her.

"It's nothing." He lowered his head and slowly walked beside her. The midday sun was undoubtedly torture for him, but the physical pain was a kind of external relief. With the dizziness and the stinging pain on his skin, a strange peace rose in his heart.

“You didn’t attend the first two classes.” Her voice was calm, and there was no accusation in her tone.

"I'm sorry." This kind of care is what he needs most right now, but also what he finds most unacceptable.

"Did you go out with Miss Zhang?"

Feng Nian'en suddenly looked up, staring at her in surprise.

Li Zilin smiled slightly: "Even if university teachers are lax, they wouldn't be this confused. But since Miss Zhang's grades are acceptable, and Mr. Zhang Jiru is from this school..." She smiled again, but this time there was a hint of self-deprecation in her smile, "Of course, we teachers have to learn to be sensible."

Feng Nian'en lowered her head again, remained silent for a moment, and instead of answering her question, said, "I saw in your information about the method to... to turn vampires back into humans. You said, you said, that all it takes is the tears of a virgin's true heart..."

“This isn’t my story, it’s a legend,” she said, looking at the branches and leaves trembling in the breeze.

“Then you think…” He looked up at her with a fervent expression, “Does this sincerity have to be love? Does it have to be the tears of a vampire virgin who is deeply in love? Can’t it be the tears of a sister?”

“The definition of true feelings is very vague,” Li Zilin answered without hesitation, as if she had thought about this question countless times. “It can’t be said that the feelings between sisters are not as good as those between lovers. But I think if this method is true, then it should refer to love.”

Why?

"Why? Yes, why..." This question finally stumped her. She murmured absentmindedly for a moment, then laughed, "I don't know. But many things are inexplicable. We don't even understand what vampires are or how they came to be, so how can we explain this? Unless..."

She stopped there, staring at the green leaves under the blazing sun, lost in thought.

Feng Nian'en didn't ask any further questions, but simply looked down at the shadows at her feet. After an unknown amount of time, the two were suddenly pulled back to reality by a male voice. Looking up, they saw another teacher from the department greeting Li Zilin. After exchanging greetings, they looked at each other.

Seeing the smile on Li Zilin's face, Feng Nian'en suddenly realized that this seemingly serious teacher already knew all his secrets. This thought sent a chill down his spine, and he almost wanted to run away immediately.

"You should go back now, and take care of yourself."

The gentle voice eased his tension, and he nodded haphazardly before turning and leaving.

Chapter Twenty-One

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The golden pendulum swung rhythmically from side to side. Feng Nian'en slowly wrapped the woolen rope around his left foot, then his right foot, and finally his left hand. He then took out the handcuffs he had prepared, using the force of the swing to secure his right hand to the chair, before tossing the key out of his reach.

He sat in the chair, his eyes wide, staring at the pendulum on the wall.

One second, one minute, one hour... Clang!

As his desires intensified and time passed, the moment he feared finally arrived.

His breathing gradually became rapid, his blood surging within him, demanding a replenishment, and the red color in his dark eyes intensified.

Even with his best efforts to restrain himself, his body still unconsciously twisted in the chair.

Just like last time, he was conscious. But the needs within him seemed to be convincing him, like a gradually strengthening thought.

Those things that were once incredibly terrifying now seem like nothing much.

As time went on, the inner voice grew louder and louder, and the persuasiveness of the newly generated thoughts became stronger and stronger.

In just over forty minutes, what kept him from jumping was no longer his own creation but the rope.

How shameful! Is this your self-control? Is this your determination?

The deep-seated resentment still yearned to reclaim its dominance, but its voice was too weak. Though this faint voice still reached his mind, it was utterly ineffective.

What's there to be ashamed of?

What's the big deal?

Humans can drink chicken blood, duck blood, and pig blood, so why can't I drink human blood? Besides, I won't kill them; I'm just borrowing some of their blood, which is completely irrelevant to them.

I want to be a human being! I want to be a normal, ordinary person, a human being who can die and isn't afraid of the sun.

Will they die? Humans who aren't afraid of sunlight?

This reason seemed to temporarily dispel his nascent thoughts. As if finding a lifeline, he leaned back in his chair, murmuring, "I want to be a human, I want to be an ordinary human, I don't want to be a ghost, I don't want to..."

He struggled, his body soaked as if drenched in a downpour. And the places where he was bound by ropes were unknowingly rubbed raw, drawing blood.

The stench of blood entered his nostrils with the stagnant air, and the seemingly solid reason shattered like glass struck by a hammer.

What's so good about being a good person?

You have to work, struggle, and fight with others. If it weren't for your father's diligent service as Zhang Jiru's driver and assistant for decades, where would you be now? Farming in the countryside? Working in a factory? Is that the kind of life you want?

You want to be ordinary, you want to be average, but are you content to be a farmer or a worker for the rest of your life? Think about that kind of life, like that of cattle or horses, think about those days that are as uneventful as a stagnant pool, is that really what you want?

Even if you're doing a bit better than most people now, even if someone like Zhou Renkuan has to defer to you, is that really respect for you, Feng Nian'en? If it weren't for Zhang Jiru and Zhang Hanwen, what would you, Feng Nian'en, be?

Be human!

Even if you were to live like this for the rest of your life, at worst you would be just like your father, nothing more than a dog of the Zhang family!