Lin Wushui calmly stood up under Zhang Xianyu’s inexplicable gaze.
He opened the back door and used the chilly Winter Night breeze to calm an inexplicable restlessness.
He didn’t turn on the light, standing straight by the door; if not for the white shirt on his upper body, he would have almost blended into the darkness.
Chen Zhaodi was startled when she came downstairs, but after realizing it was him, she clung to the staircase and smiled sweetly at him.
“Uncle, why aren’t you asleep?”
“You’re not asleep either?”
Lin Wushui turned around, raising an eyebrow when his gaze fell on the little girl.
It was freezing outside—the temperature had dropped to single digits—but the cute little girl was only wearing thin pajamas, probably suitable for spring or autumn, not thick enough.
The sleeves and pant legs were a bit short, revealing a small section of her arms and legs.
Whether from the cold or not, the child’s milky skin looked slightly blue, faintly showing the crisscrossed bruises on her arms.
“I’m going to find Grandma to sleep,” Chen Zhaodi said sweetly, running down the stairs in cartoon slippers toward her grandmother.
Lin Wushui’s gaze followed her until she turned the door handle and disappeared inside.
He snorted softly, took two steps back, and looked up.
The pitch-black two-story house in his sight looked like a monster with its mouth wide open, emitting a silent whimper.
“Why are you still outside?”
Zhang Xianyu got up, wrapped herself in a down jacket, and went looking for him when he didn’t come back for a long time.
Lin Wushui pointed to the master bedroom.
“I just saw Chen Zhaodi go inside. What do you think she’s doing in there?”
Following his finger, Zhang Xianyu’s expression darkened.
“Go take a look and find out.”
With that, he truly stepped toward the master bedroom.
The master bedroom door was tightly closed, and standing by it, the temperature seemed lower than elsewhere, sending a chill deep into the heart.
There was no sound inside the room.
Zhang Xianyu raised his hand and knocked twice on the door.
“Knock knock.”
After a moment, the reddish-brown door cracked open, revealing Chen Zhaodi’s lively, adorable face.
“Uncle, what’s up?”
“How’s Grandma?”
Zhang Xianyu’s eyes looked past her to the dark room inside.
A faint metallic scent vaguely wafted from there.
Chen Zhaodi tilted her head and smiled with a cute dimple.
“She’s fine. As long as I’m with Grandma, she behaves well.”
“Can I see Grandma?”
Zhang Xianyu lowered his gaze to her.
Chen Zhaodi’s smile vanished.
Her dark eyes stared coldly.
“No.”
“Are you trying to bully us too?”
Her innocent little face was tilted up, but the expression was anything but innocent.
Her small face was full of resentment and cruelty, as if she would turn into a vengeful ghost if Zhang Xianyu uttered a single “yes.”
Zhang Xianyu stared at her for a moment, then took a step back, sighed, and said, “No. Go to bed early, don’t play too late.”
Chen Zhaodi opened her big round eyes and smiled again with her dimple.
The previous resentment and malice had vanished, replaced once more by the image of an innocent, adorable little girl.
Under Chen Zhaodi’s watchful gaze, Zhang Xianyu returned to the guest room.
Inside, Chen Yang faced away from them, seemingly asleep.
He took off his coat and slipped under the covers, quietly saying to Lin Wushui, “Shall we go back tomorrow?”
Lin Wushui raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised.
“You’re not going to intervene?”
“Hm.”
Zhang Xianyu said, “Cause and Effect Retribution. It’s beyond our control.”
“What cause and effect?”
Chen Yang on the other bed suddenly turned over, half-lounging with curious eyes fixed on Zhang Xianyu, his fingers clutching the bedsheet tightly, waiting for an explanation.
Zhang Xianyu smiled faintly; his eyes held a cool detachment in the Winter Night.
“Nothing I noticed.”
With that, he ignored Chen Yang and burrowed into the blankets to sleep.
“Hey, don’t be so stingy.”
Chen Yang leaned further out, still pestering Zhang Xianyu.
“Taking money and doing disaster relief—how can you just say it’s not your business?”
“Did you always think like that?”
Zhang Xianyu suddenly sat up, his faint eyes looking at him as if he knew everything and yet nothing.
Chen Yang was stunned, and after a long pause, forced a stiff laugh.
“What do you mean?”
Zhang Xianyu stared at him quietly for a while, then said it meant nothing.
Ignoring Chen Yang’s sour expression, he turned his back and went to sleep.
The night deepened, the temperature dropped further, frost forming on the ground.
In the second bedroom, Zhang Xianyu and Lin Wushui breathed steadily with closed eyes, but Chen Yang tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
He kept pondering what Zhang Xianyu’s words before sleep meant.
Did he see something?
Impossible.
Chen Yang quickly dismissed his own guess.
After all, Zhang Xianyu was just an unordained young Taoist, what could he possibly see?
Thinking this gave Chen Yang confidence.
He recalled the photos and stacks of talismans the other had sent him and glanced at the bulging backpack placed between the two beds.
Squinting, Chen Yang swiftly slipped out from under the covers, grabbed the black backpack, carefully unzipping it to search inside.
“Uncle, what are you looking for? Can I help you?”
The sudden clear childish voice made Chen Yang jump.
His eyes darted suspiciously, but he found no source of the voice.
“Uncle, are you looking for me?”
“I’m here,” the bright voice continued, laughing as if very pleased.
“Look down.”
A chill ran up Chen Yang’s spine, his hand frozen holding the bag.
He stood there for a long time, unable to shift his gaze.
“Uncle, why won’t you look at me?”
The voice grew angry and fierce.
“Look down! My neck really hurts!”
Chen Yang’s eyes rolled slowly downward, inch by inch.
First, a swollen little face bruised purple, then a slender neck covered with marks from bindings…
What was hidden beneath the bed was hard to see clearly, but he had seen it once before.
He knew that small body must also be covered with intersecting bruises.
His breathing quickened; it felt as if his neck were being strangled.
His downward gaze caught the small girl crawling slowly out from under the bed.
Her scarred, delicate arms clung to his legs.
Her body twisted unnaturally, movements awkward as if her bones were broken, yet stubbornly she clung to his legs, climbing up.
XAP…
He wanted to scream for help, but no sound escaped his throat.
His teammate was right behind him, but he couldn’t even send a signal.
The little girl twisted herself onto his shoulder, her thin arms wrapping around his neck with a giggle, tightening little by little.
“Uncle, does it hurt?”
Chen Yang’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water but no words came out.
Chen Zhaodi rested her head on his shoulder, laughing softly, “It hurts me too.”
Chen Yang no longer heard what she said.
Oxygen deprivation muddled his brain.
His black eyes rolled back continuously, seeing only large patches of darkness.
He collapsed weakly to the floor; the air was thick with a foul stench.
Yellow stains rapidly spread…
“How boring.”
Chen Zhaodi disdainfully released him, hesitated a moment between the two beds, glanced at the others breathing steadily, then hopped out the door.
After she left, Zhang Xianyu and Lin Wushui simultaneously opened their eyes.
They exchanged a knowing glance.
Zhang Xianyu found a Concealment Talisman and a Mingmu Talisman from the fallen backpack and attached them.
Lin Wushui transformed into black mist and slipped back into the Red Jade Bead Bracelet on his wrist.
Without a second glance at the unconscious Chen Yang, Zhang Xianyu quietly opened the door and followed out.
Once outside, a heavy smell of blood hung in the air, weaving and curling like smoke.
It seemed to be coming from the master bedroom.
Zhang Xianyu controlled his breath and approached.
This time, the master bedroom door was ajar.
He didn’t immediately enter but stood at the doorway, observing.
The master bedroom was still dark; the curtains tightly drawn, no light from outside penetrated in, almost pitch black.
But with the Mingmu Talisman, Zhang Xianyu could see clearly.
Inside, an old woman sat with her back to him in a chair.
Lively and adorable Chen Zhaodi stood before her, holding a slender bamboo stick.
The little girl smiled, her voice sweet as if coaxing the old woman.
“Who do Grandma and I like more?”
The old woman didn’t respond.
Chen Zhaodi waited patiently.
After a long while, a hoarse, harsh voice trembled out a single word, “Di…”
Chen Zhaodi’s expression darkened, and she struck the old woman hard with the bamboo stick, a crisp “smack” echoing.
“You’re lying!”
The old woman trembled, a painful wheeze escaping her throat.
Chen Zhaodi panted violently and only after a long while calmed down, returning to her sweet, smiling face.
Once again, she asked the old woman, “Who do Grandma and I like more?”
“Di…”
This time the silence stretched even longer, until the little girl’s face grew impatient, and the old woman’s voice trembled, “Like…want…”
“Liar!”
Another sharp crack as the bamboo stick hit flesh.
Chen Zhaodi seemed provoked; the innocent face filled with resentment and malice again.
She wildly beat the old woman with the stick for a long time before finally stopping.
In a chilling voice, she said, “Grandma said liars are bad children.”
Tilting her head, she smiled sweetly again.
“Grandma clearly likes little brother the most. Why lie?”
The old woman struggled and twisted, making muffled sobbing sounds.
Zhang Xianyu could faintly hear her say, “Don’t like anymore, don’t like anymore.”
Chen Zhaodi seemed not to hear, going on, “Grandma, why are you crying? Didn’t you teach me? Bad children must be punished.”
The old woman trembled all over and slid off the chair, unable to stay seated.
The night deepened further, cold frost gleaming faintly outside, while inside the house, the cruel truths hidden behind closed doors awaited dawn.