Complete Metamorphosis Manual - Chapter 3
Then one day, Xili said that he couldn't find meaning in life, so she gave him one.
He is happy now because he has rediscovered the feeling of being needed.
He gave all his property to Ding Yan, just to buy a reason for his existence. His property was this very apartment.
She went downstairs and opened the closet. Xi Li was still smiling in the crystal coffin, looking like a transgender version of Snow White. There were IV tubes in his left hand and the top of his head, while his right hand was outside the coffin. On his beautiful wrist was a red jade bracelet. As long as the switch on the bracelet was turned on, fresh blood would flow out like a stream, and the sound of the blood falling into the cup was particularly beautiful.
9.
When Millie got home, her husband wasn't back yet. She figured it was about time he came home.
There was a voicemail message on the phone; her husband said he had to work overtime that night, but she didn't listen to the whole message.
She knew what he meant without even hearing the whole thing, so she dialed her husband's number directly.
“I bought your favorite dishes,” she said.
"I know, I'll be home later for dinner." Her husband sounded a little anxious on the other end of the phone, as if he couldn't wait to hang up.
"I've made it and will deliver it to your office." This is not a question, but a statement.
"No need..." Millie's husband's tone was almost pleading. How could he let others see his wife with the scar on her wrist? None of his colleagues knew that the woman who made the headlines was his wife.
This is so embarrassing. Besides, he wasn't working overtime; he was going to a well-known mental health facility after get off work, an institution that had advertised in the newspaper that it would treat Millie for free.
He believed what the newspapers said.
"You have to come back for dinner, or I'll kill myself," she said calmly.
"Sigh—whatever." The other party hung up the phone.
Millie felt a tightness in her chest and decided to call again, but no one answered.
He doesn't love me; he has another woman.
She thought his excuse was just as lame as the husbands having affairs in TV dramas.
She sat up blankly and began cutting the meat blankly. The knife was quite sharp, and several times it pierced the cutting board and she could hardly pull it out.
When the broth was ready, she called her husband's company again, and this time a man answered.
He said, "He left the company shortly after he got off work."
Millie said nothing. She poured herself a bowl of broth and drank it slowly.
Then she went to the kitchen, turned on the gas stove, and poured all the remaining broth onto the two rings of burning flames.
The flames didn't even struggle before they were extinguished.
"I really will die in front of you," she muttered to herself as she closed all the windows in the room.
10.
Seeing the scattered bodies near the tracks, Yang Xin felt a pang of unease, inexplicably recalling the woman who had jumped to her death a few days earlier.
The number of suicides has been increasing recently, almost like a flu outbreak, with a surge of suicides.
He checked the pockets and found a suicide note in the victim's shirt pocket.
It seems to be suicide.
However, Yang Xin felt that something was wrong. He frowned and looked around. The wilderness, the winding railway, and the place where the dead man lay on the tracks were right at a bend, which was not easy to notice. He guessed that when the train ran over him, the driver did not even know that he had hit someone. This bend was a blind spot.
Furthermore, judging from the scene, the deceased's posture while lying on the tracks was also very professional. He lay down in a direction that was exactly right angled to the railway, with his vital parts positioned precisely on the tracks, without any deviation.
The strangest thing is that the railway track ran over the suicide victim's abdomen, but there was no feces or other excrement.
There can only be one explanation: the person who committed suicide was a doctor.
But he wasn't.
The first paragraph of his suicide note reads:
I was born mediocre, grew up mediocre, worked mediocre, and soon after starting work, I married a mediocre wife. It was truly a perfect match.
I want to change, but things only get worse, and I become more and more miserable. Every day, I drag my tired body out of the company, and the thought of tomorrow makes my heart heavy. Day after day, the same routine repeats itself, and the same heaviness continues day after day.
...
If he wasn't a doctor, then this method of suicide is far too professional.
Was it murder?
Yang Xin stared at the dark red railway, its red color appearing to grin and sneer.
Yang Xin's unease intensified.
11.
Millie's husband did not go home after he returned.
He bought many gifts and knocked on his neighbors' doors one by one.
When they knocked on Wang the butcher's door, his son opened it, only a crack, and Wang Xiaofeng, the butcher's son, peeked halfway out.
“Oh…” Millie’s husband said, “I’m Millie’s husband, I live in the building next door. Could you please stop talking about Millie’s suicide in the future…”
Wang Xiaofeng was somewhat baffled.
"Even if you're going to gossip, whatever you do, don't let her know. On the surface, you have to act like you don't care..."
"Why?" Wang Xiaofeng still only showed half of his body.
"I went to see a psychologist today. The doctor said that Millie might have enjoyed being talked about, which is why she committed suicide. If no one had talked about her, she wouldn't have done it..."
Wang Xiaofeng looked Millie's husband up and down in disbelief, said nothing, and slammed the door shut, almost pinching his nose.
When I got home, the house was already filled with the smell of gas.
Millie is unconscious.
Millie's husband stood there, stunned, thinking, "Let her just die like this..."
But in the end, I still dialed 120.
He couldn't accept himself, and he regretted it.
He regretted coming back too early.
He reluctantly opened the window to let in some fresh air, secretly hoping the ambulance would arrive later.
He stood in the center of the living room, looking down at the dying Millie.
Millie is no longer the "Millet" he loved.
Millie became a different person after she got married.
12.
When Millie woke up, she was still at home.
Millie's husband was reading under the lamp. When he saw that she had woken up, he casually poured her a glass of water.
"Did you save me?" Millie asked weakly, her head throbbing.
"Um……"
"Do you still care about me?"
Millie's husband placed the water on the bedside table and said, "Get some sleep."
He didn't answer, Millie thought. If he didn't answer, he must not care.
There was a drum inside Millie's head, thumping away. The whole room was silent except for the sound of that drum, urging her on.
Millie felt herself gradually melting into the darkness, feeling lightheaded and adrift.
She got up and staggered to the living room, where her husband was sleeping on the sofa.
"Husband...look at me..." she pleaded.
Millie's husband turned over and went back to sleep.
The next morning, Millie's premonition was confirmed.
In the past, her neighbors would either avoid her like the plague, gossip about her behind her back, or give her strange looks, but not today.
Everyone seemed not to see her. If they did see her occasionally, they would just smile slightly, as if nothing had happened.
Even the old ladies selling vegetables at the market no longer criticize her behind her back.
Have I really become invisible?
She nervously told Wang Xiaofeng, the butcher, "I committed suicide yesterday, it was from gas..."
“Oh! I know…” Wang Xiaofeng handed her a strangely shaped piece of pork.
You know?
"I know."
Aren't you going to criticize me?
"There's nothing to say."
13.
The moment Ding Yan saw Millie, he knew she didn't really want to die.
Suicide is nothing more than a means, a vessel, just like a water cup, only the contents are different.
Therefore, Ding Yan asked Millie a question very seriously:
"Are you really going to die?"
Millie nodded. "You know, I've died many times, but only the first time and this time were real."
Is it because living is painful?
Millie shook her head. "Because even the feeling of pain has been lost."
Ding Yan sighed, looked at her wrist, and asked, "Would you mind cutting your wrist again?"
Millie shook her head, then nodded. "I've tried twice, but neither time it worked. The wounds heal on their own."
“Not this time.” Ding Yan grasped her scarred wrist. “You used to cut veins, this time we’ll cut arteries.”
“Where is the artery?” Millie looked up.