“Just got home. Things at the company are temporarily settled, so they let us come back.”
Song Nanxing stepped aside to let him in. Shen Du naturally took his own slippers from the shoe rack at the entryway, changed into them, and walked with him toward the living room.
The two walked one after the other, separated by only a shoulder’s width. Shen Du caught a strong, humid scent of oranges. He glanced down at Song Nanxing and noticed he must’ve just finished showering. His loose, soft T-shirt and long pants made him look very at home, and the exposed skin was as white as milk. Especially around the neck, where his black, slightly wavy hair was still damp, half-dried and curling at the nape, with transparent droplets of water dripping from the ends, sliding down the curve of his neck and leaving a clear trail of moisture.
Shen Du stared unblinkingly at that trail of water.
The human body was, in fact, quite unremarkable, hardly able to evoke any desire for exploration—this was a deeply ingrained belief of his. Even the human body he was using now was something he had casually fashioned according to human aesthetics.
But for some reason, the human figure before him suddenly seemed full of mystery, stirring a strong desire to explore.
For example, right now, he really wanted to know where that droplet of water ended up.
Did it leave a wet trail as it slid over skin hidden by clothing? Human skin seemed to be very sensitive; when a cold droplet slid over warm skin, it would stimulate the capillaries and cause subtle shudders.
It was a very subtle but very interesting reaction.
Song Nanxing took some milk from the fridge and poured it, handing a cup to Shen Du, but saw him staring intently behind him. “Shen Du?”
He thought maybe one of the house guests had slipped up and, a bit flustered, glanced behind himself, but saw nothing, his expression turning puzzled. “What are you looking at?”
Shen Du snapped out of it and smiled flawlessly. “You didn’t dry your hair. The weather’s cool now, be careful not to catch a headache.”
Song Nanxing responded with an “oh,” gulped down half a glass of milk, and said, “I almost forgot if you hadn’t mentioned it. Wait a sec, let me dry my hair first.”
He headed to the bathroom, and soon the “whirring” sound of the hairdryer could be heard.
Shen Du stared at the two glasses of milk on the table. One was Song Nanxing’s, already half finished. The other, poured for himself, was untouched.
The bathroom door cast a long shadow; Song Nanxing wouldn’t be coming out anytime soon.
A tentacle quietly crept up onto the table, the tip stirring Song Nanxing’s glass. The white liquid, slightly thicker than water, rippled. The tentacle withdrew, sounding a bit bored as it commented, “Human food.”
“Tastes bad.”
Shen Du picked up his own glass of milk, took an unhurried sip, and asked Song Nanxing, “It’s almost dinner time. Want to have dinner together?”
Song Nanxing shouted back, “But there aren’t any groceries at home, right?”
Shen Du said, “I just need to go out anyway. What do you want to eat? I can pick it up on the way back.”
Song Nanxing came out after drying his hair. “I’ve really been craving squid lately, nothing else in particular. Just get whatever you think is good.”
Shen Du looked up at him. “Squid?”
Song Nanxing glanced at the Little Octopus floating motionless in the fish tank and thought it was too cruel to eat its kin right in front of it. He nodded anyway. “Yeah, squid. It’s fine if there isn’t any—I just suddenly wanted some.”
He walked over to Shen Du, bent down, and finished off the rest of his milk.
Shen Du’s gaze first landed on his lips, then slid down his slender fingers to his slightly prominent wrist bones. Only then did he notice a bracelet with a strange scent on his wrist, and his expression paused.
The bracelet gave off an unpleasant aura.
He said, “Alright, I’ll head out now and pick up some groceries on the way back.”
Shen Du left quickly, and Song Nanxing sprawled on the sofa, playing on his phone.
The Puppet jumped down from the shelf and slowly shuffled over to sit beside him, its black, hollow eyes staring at him intently.
Song Nanxing couldn’t ignore being stared at like that, so he put down his phone for the moment and looked at the Puppet. “What’s up?”
The Puppet used its rough finger to point at the bracelet on his wrist. The glass bead on the bracelet was very pretty, but for some reason, the light inside seemed to be moving a bit faster than usual.
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Song Nanxing thought it was interested in the bead and coaxed, “I can’t give you this one, but next time I’ll get you some other beads, okay?”
The Puppet drooped its head in disappointment. “Can’t eat.”
The Little Octopus in the fish tank rolled over in annoyance. “Such a nasty smell.”
“Eat it, eat it, eat it.”
Shen Du returned half an hour later.
He started cooking in the kitchen, while Song Nanxing leaned against the doorway chatting with him. “Why do these squid tentacles look so big?”
“Fresh seafood hasn’t been very safe lately, so I bought processed frozen squid tentacles at the supermarket. Must be a new variety from the coast.”
“And this meat? Doesn’t look like pork or beef.”
Shen Du, holding a knife, diced the meat patiently, answering, “It’s Beef Frog meat, also frozen. Never tried it before, so let’s give it a go today.”
Song Nanxing’s smile froze at the word “frog,” though he knew this frog had nothing to do with that other frog. The problematic seafood exchange center had already been dealt with as quickly as possible. Plus, Shen Du bought processed frozen meat, so there shouldn’t be any issues.
At most, he just had a psychological hurdle.
But as someone just waiting to eat, Song Nanxing felt he couldn’t let a little mental block waste Shen Du’s cooking.
So, when the three dishes were brought to the table, Song Nanxing was very appreciative.
One was stir-fried squid with scallions, another was dry pot Beef Frog, and the last was a plate of stir-fried seasonal greens.
Song Nanxing waited for Shen Du to sit down before eagerly picking up his chopsticks and trying the squid. Shen Du’s cooking was amazing—he squinted his eyes in delight, took another bite before even swallowing the first, and said, “How come everything you make is so delicious?”
Shen Du sat across from him, watching him eat with a smile. “For food to taste good, picking the right ingredients is important too.”
Song Nanxing nodded blindly in agreement and picked up a piece of Beef Frog.
Because of that little mental barrier, he only took a small piece.
But after overcoming it, he found the Beef Frog meat was tender and smooth, with a wonderful flavor, and soon that psychological block disappeared.
The two of them polished off all three plates.
While cleaning up the dishes, Song Nanxing almost burped. He looked down at his stuffed belly and said to Shen Du in confusion, “Feels like you hardly eat at all—it’s all going into me?”
Shen Du glanced at him and shook his head in disapproval. “You’re too skinny. It’s fine to eat more.”
*****
Dinner was so filling that Song Nanxing wandered around the living room for a while before heading back to his bedroom.
At that moment, a video call popped up on WeChat. He glanced at it in surprise and answered—it was Cheng Jianning. He scrolled through his WeChat contacts and confirmed he hadn’t added Cheng Jianning as a friend before, so his expression turned a bit odd. “How did you call me?”
Cheng Jianning smugly waved a data cable and grinned. “I can access the virtual network at will.”
Song Nanxing: “?”
So a data cable really is just a data cable.
Seeing him fall silent, Cheng Jianning started chattering away. “Are you wearing the spore bracelet I gave you?”
Song Nanxing raised his hand to show him. “Yeah, I’m wearing it. Why?”
Cheng Jianning looked puzzled. “Weird. Did you go anywhere strange?”
Song Nanxing leaned against the headboard. “No, I was home all afternoon.”
Cheng Jianning said, “Well, this afternoon, the data spore I gave you suddenly sent back feelings of fear and terror, like it ran into something extremely evil and scary. If it weren’t for the special glass bead keeping it locked inside, it would’ve run away.”
“This afternoon?”
Song Nanxing thought back and his expression became a bit odd.
That afternoon, only the Puppet had touched the bracelet. Thinking about the Puppet’s slow, dazed manner—evil and scary? Song Nanxing thought, like owner, like spore; Cheng Jianning’s spore was just as timid as its master.
But he didn’t mention the Puppet, only played dumb. “Nothing special happened this afternoon.”
Cheng Jianning couldn’t figure it out and gave up. He leaned close to the camera, smiling with squinted eyes. “Forget it. I’ve added you on WeChat, accept my friend request, okay?”
Song Nanxing accepted his request and listened to him gossip about things he’d heard at the Containment Center before finally ending the video call and turning off the lights for bed.
As the light leaking from the bedroom door faded, the Plush Bunny on the sofa turned to stare at the bedroom door.
It patiently waited a while, and after making sure it was late enough and Song Nanxing was sound asleep, it jumped down from the sofa and headed for the door.
The Little Octopus and the Puppet turned curiously to watch it.
“Where are you going?”
The Little Octopus swam out of the fish tank, its arms chasing after, trying to grab its ears.
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But the Plush Bunny was prepared. Its drooping ear snapped open and slapped away the Little Octopus’s arm, scolding fiercely, “Go away!”
The Little Octopus instantly retracted its arms and floated back into the tank, sulking like a mushroom. “Fine, I don’t care!”
The Plush Bunny skillfully opened the main door, its long ears drooping behind it as it nimbly left and went upstairs.
It made its way to the door of 601, where its long ears politely pressed the doorbell before falling to its side, waiting for someone inside to open the door.
But after waiting a long time, no one answered.
It tilted its head in confusion and pressed the doorbell again.
Still, no one came.
Instead, a hard-to-describe sense of danger crept through the darkness. Its ears stood on end in alert, and it took a step back, its red eyes looking worriedly at the tightly closed door.
It hadn’t come to play with Jing Rao for several days now. In the past, when Xingxing wasn’t around, it would always come up to the sixth floor to play, but recently, the sixth floor was always empty.
But at this time every month, Jing Rao was always home.
The Plush Bunny stood at the door, its ears twisting anxiously together: should it go in and take a look?
While it was hesitating, a sudden scent of blood came from the crack under the door—it was Jing Rao’s scent.
Its ears instantly stood upright, as if startled.
“In trouble.”
“Go check.”
It muttered to itself for a while, then pressed its ear to the doorknob and quietly slipped in through the crack.
But behind the door was not the familiar apartment. The display cases and dolls it knew were gone, replaced by a wide, empty street. At the end of the street was the entrance gate of a residential complex, with “Cuihu Garden” written above it.
The Plush Bunny stood blankly at the start of the street, its ears stretched taut. Its twitching nose worked hard to distinguish the scents in the air. After catching a trace of Jing Rao’s scent, it bravely and cautiously took the first step.
Jing Rao’s scent drifted from inside Cuihu Garden.
It carefully walked to the gate of the complex and peeked inside through the decorative fence.
The neighborhood was very quiet, as if no one was around.
But the air was thick with danger, and it felt a strong sense of threat, though it couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It could only squeeze through the fence and, following the scent, venture into the complex.
Suddenly, a figure appeared on the opposite side, walking toward the Plush Bunny.
Its ears twitched, and it quickly hid in the nearby bushes.
Hugging its long ears, its red eyes peeked cautiously out from between the leaves.
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The one approaching was an old man. His hunched back was bent at a ninety-degree angle, as if he couldn’t straighten up. His arms, longer than his body, supported him on the ground, and he crawled along the path like a beast.
As he passed the bush where the Plush Bunny was hiding, he suddenly turned his head. His old, leathery face had no features—only cracks of all sizes. Blood-red eyeballs rolled out of the cracks, crowding together like a row of beans.
The Plush Bunny locked eyes with those eyeballs. Neither moved.
But thankfully, the old man didn’t attack. He turned away and slowly walked off.
The Plush Bunny didn’t come out right away. Only when it was sure he was gone did it emerge from the bushes and continue forward.
Cuihu Garden was large, with many buildings inside. The Plush Bunny followed the paths, tracking the scent.
Suddenly, a fierce dog burst out of Building 3 on the left and barked at it.
The dog was as big as two grown men, its body bloated and twisted, its fur bristling like spikes that scraped together with a metallic sound.
It glared at the Plush Bunny and let out a low growl, yellow fangs dripping with saliva.
The Plush Bunny stood its ground, but even with its long ears, it only reached the dog’s legs.
The dog pawed at the ground and lunged at it, jaws wide open.
Relying on its small size, the Plush Bunny darted under the dog’s belly, its ears whipping out like a lash, trying to tie up the dog and throw it away.
But it underestimated the dog’s spiky, metal-like fur. As soon as its ears struck, several holes were poked in them.
The Plush Bunny yelped and looked at its now holey ears, red eyes growing moist, then turned and ran.
The dog chased after it relentlessly, barking fiercely.
Unable to outrun it, the Plush Bunny could only dive into bushes and decorations. It was chased all the way to Building 9, where it suddenly caught a strong, familiar scent.
Jing Rao!
Its red eyes lit up, and it dashed into the building without hesitation.
The dog stopped at the entrance, crouched low, its spines bristling, let out a few low whimpers, then tucked its tail and ran off.
Inside the building, it was very quiet.
After making sure the dog wasn’t following, the Plush Bunny cautiously approached the elevator.
Its ear, now pierced by spikes, drooped behind it in dejection. It glanced around, then perked up and pressed the down button.
The elevator descended to the first floor. With a “ding,” the doors opened. The Plush Bunny stepped in and was about to press the close button when it noticed the elevator panel was fused with a man’s face. The open and close buttons were inside the man’s mouth.
The man’s gloomy eyes stared hungrily at the Plush Bunny. With a malicious grin, he opened his mouth wide, rows of jagged teeth faintly showing scraps of meat.
The Plush Bunny smacked him hard in the face with its ear and squeezed out just as the elevator doors were closing.
No elevator, then—it could only take the stairs.
Jing Rao’s scent was still far above.
It climbed floor after floor, always hearing the sound of doors opening and closing behind it. On the third floor, it felt someone watching and paused to look back.
At the turn between the second and third floors, figures were moving.
The Plush Bunny walked to the edge of the stairs and peered down, seeing five or six people crowded together on the landing, looking up at it.
The moment they realized they’d been spotted, their dull, rigid faces twisted into vicious snarls.
Someone with scythe-like arms scrambled upward; another, their skin crawling with bugs, dissolved into a swarm crawling along the wall; yet another bared claws, leaping up to the third floor like a beast…
The Plush Bunny backed up in fright, its long ears slamming into the fire door as it turned and bolted upstairs.
More doors opened and closed above.
Passing 403, a dozen hands suddenly reached out from an open door, grabbing for its ears. The Plush Bunny, caught off guard, stared at the eyes in those palms, red eyes flashing.
The hands trying to grab it froze for a moment, and the Plush Bunny seized the chance to break free and dash upstairs.
The fire door behind was thrown open, and more and more monsters chased after it.
Soon, the Plush Bunny realized where all the opening doors were coming from—more and more monsters pouring out.
It darted and dodged, fighting back fiercely, but there were just too many monsters. Outnumbered, it was soon wounded—one ear bitten halfway off, several new gashes on its back, cotton stuffing spilling out.
It ran desperately up to the ninth floor, cornered by the swarm at the door to 902, with nowhere left to run.
Fear flickered in its red eyes, but it still bared its teeth fiercely.
Suddenly, the door to 902 swung open. A bloodless hand reached out and yanked it inside. The Plush Bunny panicked at first, but quickly recognized the familiar scent and calmed down, turning to stare at the one holding it.
Jing Rao sat on the floor, leaning against the door, her exposed skin covered in wounds. A particularly savage gash slashed across her beautiful, bewitching face.
She caught her breath, her expression helpless. “There’s nothing fun here. Kids shouldn’t run around, you know?”
The Plush Bunny gently draped its ear over the wound on her stomach, trying to heal it.
A pounding sounded at the door.
Jing Rao stopped it, putting a finger to her lips and whispering, “Shh. Don’t move.”
The Plush Bunny obediently sat beside her.
The banging outside never stopped, only growing more intense. Jing Rao frowned slightly and said, “Looks like we can’t hide here anymore.”
She looked at the Plush Bunny and whispered, “Little Moon, I’ll send you out. Don’t come to the sixth floor again, understand? The Nightmare Domain isn’t a place for you.”
The Plush Bunny grew anxious at her words, hugging her arm with its short paws. “You’re hurt, let’s go out together.”
Jing Rao wiped the blood from her face, gave a cold laugh, and said, “He won’t let me out. You go first, don’t come in again. I won’t die so easily.” She glanced at the Plush Bunny’s tattered pink dress, her eyes softening. “When I get out, I’ll make you a pretty new dress.”
Before the Plush Bunny could react, her arm turned into a gleaming scalpel, slicing open a crack in the darkness above, and she pushed the Plush Bunny through it.
*****
The Plush Bunny tumbled out of the crack and landed in the fourth-floor hallway.
It got up and stared blankly at the now-vanished crack above, its ears drooping in dejection. It stood there for a long time before dragging its battered body home.
Hearing the door, the Little Octopus poked its head out of the tank.
It saw that the Plush Bunny, who’d left in good shape, had come back tattered—left ear half gone, right ear full of holes, and several more holes in its body, cotton stuffing leaking out as it walked.
The Little Octopus immediately perked up.
It floated over and circled the Plush Bunny, gently poking its ear with a tentacle. “Who did this?”
“So weak.”
The Plush Bunny hung its head, not even wanting to answer.
It turned, picking up the cotton that had fallen out and stuffing it back inside itself, clumsily pulling out a sewing kit to try to mend itself.
But its paws were too short and not nearly as nimble as human fingers. After struggling for a long time, it couldn’t even thread the needle.
Even more frustrated, it put the sewing kit away.
The Puppet slowly shuffled over, its black hollow eyes watching. “Xingxing will sew.”
The Plush Bunny glanced at it, then slipped into the spare room and hid inside the closet.
Xingxing mustn’t find out.
*****
With no work today, Song Nanxing let himself sleep in.
He didn’t get up until noon. Shen Du had left a message on WeChat, saying he was out on business and couldn’t eat lunch at home, and asking what he’d like for dinner so he could bring groceries back.
Song Nanxing replied, then went to wash up in the bathroom. He took a box of frozen meatballs from the fridge to thaw, planning to just make some noodle soup for lunch.
Coming out of the bathroom, he walked through the living room with the box of meatballs, but stopped short—because the sofa was empty.
He looked around, puzzled. The Plush Bunny that was always on the sofa was nowhere to be seen.
Poor little bunny… So innocent, still wanting to go visit Jing Rao despite the danger…