Complete Metamorphosis Manual

Chapter 35

"Protect everyone!" Xiao Jia shouted. The four brothers immediately pounced on the police like angry hunting dogs, biting and beating them, turning the living room into chaos.

"Bang bang bang..."

A flurry of gunfire erupted, and four of the world's cutest, bravest, and most loyal dogs fell in pools of blood.

Xiao Yi raised his eyes, glanced at Lao You and the others, then looked at his brothers who had already died. His lips trembled as if he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, then fell heavily to the ground.

“Fool…” the old postman said, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Idiot! Moron!" Da Mi roared.

The two looked at each other and then suddenly jumped backward.

Broken glass splattered all over Ding Yan's face. Outside the window, a few white clouds drifted leisurely in the deep blue sky.

The old postman said: Finally, we've seen the sunlight.

Da Mi said: Xiaomi, we can finally be together forever.

twenty four.

Yang Xin simply did what he was supposed to do, what a policeman should do. He didn't pursue the matter further; he had already shown leniency.

Ding Yan leaned against the hospital bed, drinking the blood yogurt blankly. It was the last carton of blood yogurt; it had spoiled and lost its original flavor.

Aunt Mei told the police that she, Lao You, and Da Mi were the three who did it all. The woman's voice that the suicide victims heard on the phone was hers.

She also said that she was an old witch who ate children. Ding Yan knew that admitting she was an old witch was harder than death for her, but Wang Xiaofeng said that was exactly what Aunt Mei said.

Aunt Mei also said that Lao You, Dami, and herself were all perverts, completely perverted mentally ill. It's only natural that perverted people would do something as perverted as teaching others to commit suicide. There's absolutely nothing illogical about it.

Ding Yan gently licked her lips, staring intently at the plastic box in her hand. The box was empty; there would never be any more bloody yogurt inside, just like Old Postman, Aunt Mei, and Rice would never come back.

On the bedside table beside the hospital bed sat a bouquet of roses, blood-red. It was said that such beautiful red flowers had once bloomed around the bodies of Old Postman and Rice.

"You're awake?" Wang Xiaofeng pushed open the door and came in, dressed in a white uniform, looking like an angel. "Are you feeling better?"

Ding Yan didn't speak, not because he didn't want to, but because he really didn't know what to say.

Should we scold him?

Should we still thank him?

Wang Xiaofeng simply did what he was supposed to do. He knew how to minimize the losses and how to protect the woman he loved most in that situation.

"Yang Xin said he has some questions to ask you when you wake up. But don't worry, it's just a formality." Wang Xiaofeng gently wiped the corner of her mouth and reached out to take the empty yogurt container from her hand.

"No." Ding Yan gripped the yogurt container tightly, pressed it to her chest, and gently stroked it. "I don't want to see Yang Xin. If you absolutely must ask, then let another policeman ask him!"

"Okay." Wang Xiaofeng gently helped her up, put the pillow down, and tucked the blanket around her. "You know what to say, right?"

Ding Yan's eyes were empty; he neither nodded nor shook his head.

"Then I'll let them in..." He walked to the door, then turned back, still uneasy. "Remember, what did Old You and the others die for? Don't let them down..."

Ding Yan closed her eyes, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

For the first time, she regretted not listening to Old Postman's advice.

Perhaps, from the very beginning, from the moment she decided to help Yang Xin gain a so-called sense of accomplishment, she was wrong.

Furthermore, one wrong step leads to another.

25.

The broken glass has been repaired.

During her hospitalization, Wang Xiaofeng restored everything to its original state and meticulously cleaned up all of Lao You's, Da Mi's, Mei Yi's, and Jia Yi Bing Ding's belongings.

The empty house no longer held their presence, as if they had never existed, as if it were all just a dream.

She opened the refrigerator, where blood yogurt was neatly arranged. Ding Yan suddenly turned around and shouted, "Aunt Mei!" Then she stared fixedly at the kitchen.

She hoped that Aunt Mei would come out with a girlish hairstyle, carrying a steaming bowl of baby soup, smiling, and then place the soup on the table while playfully touching her ears with both hands.

At this point, A, B, C, and D would stick out their tongues and wait in front of the food bowl. Xiao Mi would angrily blame Aunt Mei for always making this kind of soup, and then blush and go upstairs to call Dami down to stand up for her.

Old Mail must be hiding inside the curtains at this time.

Ding Yan stared at the curtains with tears in her eyes; the curtains swayed empty in the breeze.

Everyone else is gone. This family, which has no blood relation whatsoever, now only has Ding Yan left.

Yes, that's true. They are all abnormal, suffering from severe mental illnesses, but who can say they aren't lovable? Not beautiful? Everyone lives for something, and they are simply living according to their own ideas.

Ding Yan sat on the sofa, without turning on the light, immersing himself in darkness.

The lock clicked softly, and the door opened. Ding Yan dared not look. How she wished that Old Postman, Aunt Mei, Dami, and the others would file in one after another, with mischievous smiles, and tell her that it was all just a prank, that they had teased her on purpose.

But that's impossible.

It was Wang Xiaofeng who came in.

He gently closed the door, sat down next to Ding Yan, and tenderly pulled her into his arms, saying, "I'm afraid you'll overthink things if you're alone."

At times like these, having someone to lean on isn't a bad thing. Ding Yan sobbed softly, "It all seems to have gone back to square one... I'm alone again, just like when I was a child..."

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Wang Xiaofeng gently wiped away her tears. "How about the blood yogurt in the fridge?"

"I haven't drunk it yet..."

"Then you should try it. That day at the hospital, I saw you holding onto that empty box and wouldn't let go..."

“In the past, Aunt Mei always made it for me…”

"Although I don't know how Aunt Mei made it, the stuff in the fridge is something I prepared by staying up for two days straight... If you'd like, I'll make it for you like Aunt Mei always."

"Thank you……"

"Silly girl..."

26.

Things didn't go as Yang Xin had imagined. He truly didn't know what he had done wrong, or where the problem lay. He gritted his teeth, went against his conscience, and gave up the love he had finally found, only to end up back where he started.

The captain didn't treat him any differently just because he generously shared the credit with them; it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, no one else noticed him. He was just as reckless as a hothead when he grabbed credit, and he was just as cunning when he deliberately gave it up.

He certainly didn't understand. Both his naiveté and his scheming were too obvious, too deliberate. Deep down, he wasn't one of the other officers. So no matter what he did or how he did it, he couldn't integrate with them, couldn't truly become one of them.

The captain said, "You've done a good job providing the clues this time, so you'll be reinstated to your original position. You'll still be in charge of the suicide task force, and you'll still be the only one in charge."

After saying this, the captain smiled憨厚ly and patted him on the shoulder: "This incident fully proves that you have expertise in this field and are suitable to be in charge of suicide cases."

Yang Xin was somewhat amused and exasperated. Despite his best efforts, he was still an idle police officer, doing a job that was neither here nor there. He suddenly remembered a saying, one that seemed to be by Ding Yan, yet also seemed not: "Life is like taking a dump. Sometimes you try your best, but in the end, all you produce is a fart."

Yang Xin felt that his life was nothing but a fart.

He took out his phone, wanting to call Ding Yan. But countless times he dialed the number, only to lose the courage to make the call. Even if he got through, what would he say?

Say, "I'm sorry?" But if you know you're sorry, why did you do it in the first place?

Tell me, are you feeling better? But what right does he have to ask whether she's alright or not?

She said, "Please accept my condolences." But wasn't it he who caused her grief today?

He sighed, stuffed his phone back into his pocket, and drove his police car aimlessly through the streets.

Yes, he got lost.

For the first time, he felt lost. He didn't know why he had lived before, why he was living now, or why he would live in the future.

For a moment, he actually understood those suicide victims, and why the old postman and his colleagues helped others commit suicide. Because at that moment, he so fervently longed for someone to tell him how to die cleanly and neatly.

[Postscript: We all have to live for something, right?]

1.

"Really, should we seal it up?" Wang Xiaofeng held an exquisite wooden box, the only remaining trace of the old postman, rice, Aunt Mei, and the other three people who once lived in this apartment.

"Hmm." Ding Yan rolled herself up in the curtains, pursed her lips, and seemed to be smiling, but the smile was more desolate than crying. "We have to keep living, don't we? Old You and the others did that so that we could keep living, right? And live very well... very well..."

"If you're really sure about that," Wang Xiaofeng sighed, stuffed the box into the wall, and continued banging and knocking around the room.

After Lao You and the others left, Ding Yan couldn't stand the suffocating silence in the house, so he invited Wang Xiaofeng to stay at Very Apartment and vacated the house across the street specifically for Wang Xiaofeng and her workspace.

Wang Xiaofeng renovated both houses, firstly to completely erase Ding Yan's previous living environment and give her a completely new space; more importantly, the renovated houses were meticulously laid out. Both houses had inconspicuous hidden rooms and sophisticated alarm systems. Although they looked no different from ordinary houses, they were riddled with mechanisms. Secret passages were designed from the living rooms to the workroom, and the workroom had a secret passage leading to the rooftop. A small helicopter was placed on the rooftop for emergencies.

You might think this is an exaggeration, but if you've experienced what Ding Yan and Wang Xiaofeng went through, you'll understand.

"Oh, the soup is almost ready!" Ding Yan quietly emerged from behind the curtains, ran to the kitchen, turned off the gas, and then ladled the soup into a soup bowl.

She smiled, blew on the hot soup bowl, then carefully placed it on the table. She playfully pinched her ear, "It's so hot! Don't rush, drink this soup while it's hot. At five months, it's a very nutritious time..."

Wang Xiaofeng stood on the wooden ladder, staring intently at Ding Yan. For a moment, he almost cried: "Ding Yan, don't force yourself..."

"Why should I force myself?" Ding Yan ladled out two bowls of soup, then took out a small mirror from her pocket, gazing lovingly at her reflection. The person in the mirror was someone else, someone she deeply loved. She said, "Dami, Xiaomi, come on, come out and have some soup..."

"Ding Yan... don't do this..." Wang Xiaofeng said worriedly.

Ding Yan glanced at Wang Xiaofeng, stuck out his tongue, licked his lips from left to right, and drank the soup in the bowl directly with his tongue, just like a dog, without using chopsticks.

Just like those four silly brothers, A, B, C, and D.

2.

Time is like a rubber band; it can stretch and contract.

When you're happy, it shrinks; when you're bored and depressed, it stretches endlessly. The more bored you are, the longer it stretches.

Yang Xin felt that this boring day seemed to have no end, stretching on and on, as if it stretched to the end of the world, to the end of the world.

He pulled his police car over to the side of the road and lit a cigarette. He hadn't smoked much before, but lately he'd discovered cigarettes were a good thing—watching the gray smoke slowly gather, then transform into all sorts of strange shapes before finally dissipating. It was a great way to pass the time.

Lately, it seems like there are fewer people committing suicide.

He muttered to himself, gazing at the people coming and going outside the car. Everyone had a fixed expression, as if they were wearing an unchanging mask.

Or perhaps it's not that fewer people are committing suicide, but rather that they've all chosen a low-key way to die quietly, without even leaving behind a body.

He looked up at the tall buildings on both sides, hoping someone would suddenly stand up from them. He hesitated, wavered, and prepared to fall. Finally, fate smiled upon him; sure enough, a black figure stood on the building to his right.

He suddenly felt excited, as if every cell in his body was jumping for joy.

He jumped out of the car, rushed into the building, and headed straight for the top floor!

"Think positively! Don't jump, don't die!" Yang Xin rushed forward and grabbed the man's arm. The man was wearing a tattered, dirty coat with frayed cuffs. He was probably a migrant worker trying to get his unpaid wages by jumping off the building.

"Are you crazy?!" The man who looked like a migrant worker pushed him away. "I'm just a worker who repairs the rooftop railing!"