This One Was Even More of a Heavyweight

"That woman actually sat down obediently. Can she understand what we're saying?" Bu Liuxing backed away toward the Western-style house.

"A Xing, do you remember?" Jiang Xueming pressed a hand to his companion's shoulder and retreated with him to the mansion's front door. "Mr. David said this kind of creature can speak human language. It's not strange that she can understand it too."

"Hahahahaha!" Bu Liuxing inexplicably grew excited. "So she really is afraid of Dump Truck Iaijutsu?"

Jiang Xueming was not sure, but he cautiously kicked the door open. "Let's go inside first."

The two entered the house and carefully observed their surroundings.

Two pairs of shoes sat atop the shoe cabinet in the entryway, one male and one female.

The tables and chairs in the hall were covered in a thick layer of dust, as if no one had tended to the place for a very, very long time.

A pile of pitch-black coal cinders remained in the fireplace. Only during the few dozen seconds the front door stood open did the sea breeze scatter them into dust.

Jiang Xueming looked over the furnishings inside the house. Everything before his eyes carried an air of mystery.

Who was the faceless woman outside?

Why did this house look so out of place among Fang Feng's droplet-shaped buildings?

It looked like a detached wooden villa from the mid-nineteenth century, with antique decor and furniture.

Who did the two pairs of shoes by the door belong to? Had a married couple once lived here?

"A Xing, remember to take pictures. Don't record video. Your phone's fixed focus might malfunction. Keep your hands steady when taking pictures, and make sure they come out clear." Jiang Xueming held up his gun and cautiously ventured deeper into the house.

He saw even more things that were difficult to understand.

Many black-and-white photographs hung on the walls. Most were landscapes, though there were portraits as well.

The largest photograph was a picture of a man and woman together.

The man wore formal attire, and the woman wore a wedding dress. It was a wedding photo, but like the faceless woman outside, neither of them had a face.

What was worth noting was that the man appeared in other photographs as well. He had no right leg—beneath the empty right trouser leg was a prosthetic made from a steel rod and wood.

Bu Liuxing curiously followed behind Ming Ge, holding up his phone and snapping pictures as they went.

They passed the washroom, inspected the storage room, kitchen, and bathroom, then finally climbed the old wooden stairs to the second-floor living room. They lingered for several minutes in the master bedroom and guest bedroom.

The wardrobes and cabinets in the house were completely empty. Only an ancient stargazing lens stood mounted on the second-floor terrace.

There was a huge desk in the pavilion before the terrace. Something seemed to be there.

Jiang Xueming stepped closer for a better look. On the long two-person bench at the desk, a filthy, greasy stain remained on the left-hand seat.

In front of the stain was a bizarre prosthetic leg. The wood had decayed beyond recognition, and the steel rod connecting it to the foot was covered in rust and riddled with dense pitted holes.

It felt as if—

The male owner of this house had once sat here and died on this bench. His body had never been moved, left to slowly rot until it finally became sludge.

"What's going on here, Ming Ge? Did a couple used to live here? How did it end up like this?" Bu Liuxing was full of questions as he photographed the desk.

"Cover your mouth and nose. Don't move around." Jiang Xueming instructed him, then crouched and gently blew across the desktop.

Much of the dust was immediately swept away, revealing a star chart.

Against a pitch-black background, countless stars had been drawn in bright red lines and glittering gold paint.

As the dust dispersed, Jiang Xueming also saw the true form of an oil-paper calendar board on the desk.

The English words on the calendar became visible, and the date was frozen at June 21, 1888.

Jiang Xueming said, "These are all things from over a hundred years ago."

"Over a hundred years ago?" Bu Liuxing stared at the star chart on the desk in shock. "A couple was studying the stars in this godforsaken place over a hundred years ago?"

"I'm afraid they weren't studying astronomy. This is underground. Where would they find a sky?" Jiang Xueming turned toward the large lens outside the terrace—

—The instrument was aimed at that mysterious sea.

"What they drew might have been the [stars] in the ocean." Jiang Xueming explained, "These underground volcanic craters, and these points of light of varying sizes. Look at these lines."

A Xing looked over at his words.

Within the dense clusters of volcanic craters on the ancient chart, countless red lines linked together to outline a massive fluid shape.

That shape resembled the droplet-shaped earthen houses in Fang Feng.

"So, the [people] we saw in Fang Feng actually came from the sea?" Bu Liuxing's eyes widened.

Jiang Xueming answered without hesitation, "I don't know. I'm not sure. Where they came from doesn't matter to me."

He swiftly pulled out a notebook and sketched everything he had seen and heard into it. After checking the desk drawers, he found nothing new.

He went to the terrace and peered into the deep sea through the long, thick lens—

—That single glance nearly left his soul behind.

At the bottom of the deep, dark sea, countless starlike lights flickered.

Droplets of lava from active volcanoes drove tidal undercurrents.

Beneath the glittering golden light, a gigantic droplet stood atop a rocky ledge in the trench.

It resembled an inverted golden egg. Its dome emitted a warm orange glow, and its material seemed both metallic and stone-like. Its surface was covered in rocklike blemishes formed from tangled coral and fish bones. The farther down one looked, the more obvious its petrification became, as if it had endured countless ages—just as old as the stone forest outside Fang Feng Station.

By adjusting the lens's magnification, Jiang Xueming saw from a bird's-eye perspective that countless similar points of light stood across the seabed.

They slept quietly beside restless active volcanoes, emitting little points of light. Those lights formed the outline of a gigantic golden egg, like a logo.

"Ming Ge? Ming Ge!" Bu Liuxing's anxious voice pulled him back to reality.

Jiang Xueming's face was pale as he woke from that dreamlike vision.

"What is it?"

"Look. Look!"

The two looked down from the terrace and only then realized—

The woman sitting upright on the bench had disappeared.

"Where did she go?" Bu Liuxing's voice trembled. "Could she already be inside the house?"

"I don't know." Jiang Xueming replied, "But based on what we know so far, she should be a scientist. Over a hundred years ago, she studied this sea with her husband. Her husband also died in this house."

Bu Liuxing cautiously asked, "Is she still human? Could she have caught some virus and turned into that kind of monster?"

Jiang Xueming boldly answered, "The black-and-white flash photographs from over a century ago wouldn't lie. Neither of them had faces in their wedding photo. I think that couple wasn't human from the start."

Bu Liuxing asked uneasily, "What do we do now?"

"Get the hell out of here." Jiang Xueming said bluntly. "We took a tour of a widow's home, touched her things, and examined her husband's remains. How could she not be angry?"

Bu Liuxing said, "Makes sense. Go back the way we came?"

"Jumping off is faster." Jiang Xueming looked over the height of the terrace. It was only a little more than three meters high.

"Okay!" Bu Liuxing felt strength surge back into him. He handed his phone to Jiang Xueming. "Ming Ge, let's swap phones. There are important pictures in here. Today, we'll head back to the station, and your sister will be saved soon."

Jiang Xueming said nothing as he took the pink phone.

He handed back the navy-blue phone, but his heart was still hanging in the air.

"Ming Ge! I'm taller and stronger than you. I'll test it first. If I make it down, I can catch you." As he spoke, Bu Liuxing climbed onto the terrace railing.

He grinned at Xueming, flashing a mouthful of bright white teeth as he joked.

"You always look so cold, Ming Ge. Smile more! Thanks to you, I got to experience something this exciting!"

A Xing joked as he climbed down.

"Ming Ge, don't you not have a job? When we get back, you have to come work at my shop. I've wanted to open a café for ages. I don't care whether it makes money. I just want to hear stories. So many people at that station have stories. It has to be interesting."

With a thud, Bu Liuxing landed safely.

Jiang Xueming vaulted over the railing and jumped down as well.

Bu Liuxing was still preparing to spread his arms and catch Xueming, but by the time he came to his senses, Xueming was already brushing mud and water off himself.

A Xing asked blankly, "Ming Ge, why aren't you saying anything? Are you still worried about your sister?"

Jiang Xueming rubbed his aching knees. He did not want to owe Bu Liuxing even the slightest favor, nor did he want to expose any weakness to anyone.

His expression remained unchanged as he tucked the phone into his inner pocket, afraid it might suffer any damage, then lowered his head and headed back the way they had come.

Bu Liuxing shouted, "Ming Ge! Hey!"

At that moment, right then and there.

Two soft, boneless arms slipped out through the front door. Like nimble snakes, they struck from behind during the instant Bu Liuxing and Jiang Xueming completely let down their guard.

In an instant, the two arms sliced open the nylon pouch of Jiang Xueming's quick-draw holster like sharp blades.

Jiang Xueming only felt his waist grow lighter. When he came to his senses, both his holster and pistol were gone!

A piercing pain shot through his brain. In that instant, his [Inspiration] told him disaster was imminent.

The moment he turned his head, Jiang Xueming saw more than a dozen soft, greasy tentacles extending from the dark doorway of the mansion. They were a hair's breadth away from Bu Liuxing.

A Xing still wore an awkward smile, apparently unaware of what had happened.

Xueming nearly gave up thinking. Without the slightest hesitation, before the synapses in his brain could fire and before logic could provide an answer, his body moved first.

He fiercely rammed A Xing's heavy, sturdy body two or three steps away. His arms continued shoving Bu Liuxing's torso, trying to push his little brother away from The Faceless Lady's tentacles.

After a string of crackling noises, those tentacles had already tightly wrapped around Xueming's upper body.

He was dragged backward, falling onto his backside in the gravel.

He tried to reach for the gun that had fallen to the ground, but he could not reach it no matter what—he was certain that the faceless old woman was very clever and had already disarmed him.

He felt no strength in his arms. Against those cold, ash-gray tentacles, he was simply no match.

"A Xing, get the gun, A Xing—"

Those strange, featureless tentacles dragged him bit by bit back into the house.

Jiang Xueming shouted, "A Xing! Snap out of it! Wake up!"

Bu Liuxing clutched his head, still unable to recover from the torment of [Inspiration]. He struggled to pick up the pistol from the ground and ran to Xueming's side.

He staggered and stumbled several times before A Xing finally saw Xueming clearly.

"Shoot at the doorway! Shoot her!" Jiang Xueming barked.

A piercing gunshot rang out. Aside from the first bullet that went into the doorway, Bu Liuxing's hands shook like a Parkinson's patient's.

"I still have bullets on me, keep shooting!" Jiang Xueming felt the tentacles around him twitch at the first gunshot. "You hit her, nice job! Don't lose heart, keep shooting! Line up the rear sight, front sight, and target. Keep shooting! You're doing great!"

Bu Liuxing breathed heavily in panic. He watched Xueming's body slowly sink into that abyss, and the immense pressure nearly suffocated him.

He pulled a magazine from Xueming's MOLLE gear, but even reloading was clumsy—this was his first time using a gun and his first time trying to reload one.

He repeatedly fumbled with the magazine. Those fatal mistakes seemed so stupid and useless to him. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Snot and tears ran down together.

"Ming Ge... Ming Ge, don't be afraid. Ming Ge, Ming Ge, I'm sorry, Ming Ge. Sorry. I—"

He said he was comforting Jiang Xueming, but Bu Liuxing was really frantically trying to comfort himself.

"Keep shooting. I'm not afraid. Keep shooting. It's okay." Jiang Xueming was still some distance from the mansion, roughly ten meters away. He strained to straighten and twist his body, trying to resist the monstrous force of the tentacles around him.

"Your arms, Ming Ge, your arms..." Bu Liuxing caught sight of Xueming's strange posture as he struggled against the tentacles—his arms looked as if they had detached from his upper body and twisted completely backward.

Jiang Xueming rolled his eyes. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans streamed down his forehead, and his face twisted in agony. "They're dislocated. Haven't you seen a dislocation before? Don't ask. If you ask, it doesn't hurt. Keep shooting!"

Bu Liuxing gritted his teeth, raised the gun, and unleashed another burst of bullets.

Foul-smelling blue blood flowed out from inside the door.

Jiang Xueming's spirits lifted. He felt his dislocated arms gain a brief chance to breathe, and his face became ferocious as he tried to break free from the tentacles.

He growled, "A Xing, don't stop. Keep shooting."

Bu Liuxing was no longer as flustered as before. This time, he reloaded much faster. In just a few seconds, he fired another burst. Even when the magazine was empty and the slide locked back, he continued pulling the trigger, mechanically following orders as if he had gone numb.

His accuracy was pitiful. Only two or three bullets burst into sprays of blood in the shadowed doorway.

"Hold your breath when you pull the trigger." Jiang Xueming felt his body still being dragged backward. He still could not resist that enormous force and still could not break free. "Don't rush. Don't be afraid. Don't let fear destroy you, Liuxing. Don't let fear destroy you."

Bu Liuxing pulled out the last few magazines from Xueming's body.

His eyes widened as he sprayed out both muzzle flashes and fury.

By the last magazine, he was nearly desperate.

Jiang Xueming was still slumped on the ground. His back had already pressed against the porch steps. Just a few more steps, and those tentacles would drag him completely through the mansion's front door.

"Are you out of bullets? Cut open my clothes. Use a knife to cut open my clothes. Be careful, A Xing. Stay as far away from me as you can. Don't let those things wrap around you. Don't cut the tentacles. I don't know what's in their blue blood. Don't touch that blood." Jiang Xueming had not given up. Both his arms were twisted out of shape, and the crisp sounds of cracking bones could be heard.

Bu Liuxing did not waste a single word. His emotions hovered at the edge of collapse, and he was nearly unable to speak.

He pulled out the whaling knife strapped to his leg and carefully cut open Xueming's sleeves and sliced through the lining. Protected by the stab-resistant clothing, he cut open the bulletproof vest.

In those brief few dozen seconds.

Bu Liuxing felt as if decades had passed.

"Can this work? Can I get out?" Jiang Xueming regained his composure. "There's one last magazine left, right? I counted them. I have a good memory."

Bu Liuxing continued cutting through the clothes without looking up. "Bullets don't work on that shameless widow. Didn't we see that earlier? Her regenerative ability is too strong. And I can't shoot straight—"

Jiang Xueming said, "But you can hit me. I don't want to become a monster. If I can't make it back, take the journal and phone with you. I..."

"What nonsense are you talking about?!" Bu Liuxing lay on the steps, holding Xueming's arms as he continued cutting. "Your hands, Ming Ge, your hands... If we get back and your sister sees your hands... I'll make that girl cry again..."

Jiang Xueming pursed his lips and said nothing. He needed Liuxing to calm down, and he needed to use this precious time of struggle to keep thinking of a way out.

After all that, the pressure in A Xing's heart gradually began to ease.

At the final crucial moment, he finally pulled Xueming free from the tentacles' grasp.

The two rolled into the mud and ran outside like madmen.

But—the tattered clothes, Jiang Xueming's clothes, fluttered before the mansion's front door.

Dozens of tentacles writhed wildly before rapidly transforming into a pair of pale, smooth arms.

The Faceless Lady held the pink phone and Jiang Xueming's journal, keeping all the information in her hands. As if provoking the two passengers, she crooked a finger at them.

A deathly silence surrounded the two brothers.

No-Brain and Unhappy stood frozen stiff.

Jiang Xueming and Bu Liuxing looked at each other.

"Without that phone, without the journal and photos, can we trade for the Universal Elixir?"

"I don't know."

"Should we wait for Mr. David?"

"I don't know."

"How long can your sister Jiang Bailu hold on?"

"I don't know."

"Are you confident you can deal with this widow? Inside that building?"

"I don't know."

"Can your hands still hold things? Can you fire a gun?"

"I don't know."

They said humanity's greatest fear came from the unknown. This string of "I don't know" seemed to reflect the shape of Jiang Xueming's fear.

Almost at the same time, Xue Ming and Liuxing ran toward the mansion's front door.

It was like they were competing to see who could run faster.

But Xue Ming had underestimated A Xing's height, and he had underestimated A Xing's muscles.

In a sprint, he was nowhere near a match for Bu Liuxing's six-foot-three frame.

He was left behind, watching helplessly as A Xing crashed into the Faceless Lady's arms, finally seized the phone and journal—then threw them out the door.

"Go, go, go! Go, go, go, go! Hurry up! Ming Ge, go!" Liuxing was bound tightly, squeezing the phone out through gaps in the tentacles before slowly passing out the journal as well. He pushed them beyond the door with his fingertips, then finally hooked the door shut.

The kid did not say anything unnecessary. He was no longer afraid.

The door slowly closed, and not a sound came from within.

Xue Ming's arms hung limp at his sides, like the walking dead in Fang Feng. He was somewhat lost. His arms were injured, and he could not run quickly, but he finally reached the door.

Enduring excruciating pain, he performed a reduction on his dislocated shoulders at the porch steps, repeatedly trying to force his shoulder joints back into place with his own body weight.

The pain shooting through both arms made his abdominal muscles spasm. He retched in agony and vomited all the filth from his stomach.

A long, long time passed—around forty minutes.

Both arms were covered in bruises and dark purple blood. Even his fingers had cramped from the overwhelming pain, but he barely managed to pick up the phone and journal and stuff them into his pocket.

Without saying a word, he watched the location signal on the couple's phone grow farther and farther away, while drawing closer and closer to the supply station.

He heard the incoherent, crazed muttering from the villagers, as if part of their souls had remained forever inside that mysterious mansion.

When he returned to the supply station, David Byrne was still murmuring the name of his beloved firearm in his sleep.

He placed the Smith & Wesson beside Mr. David's ear and stripped off his filthy, tattered clothes. Bare-chested, he leaned against Bu Liuxing's pack and tried to rest for a while.

He thought—once Mr. David woke up, this dependable security officer would drive that Volga and take him back to the station, out of this bizarre and mysterious underground world.

He would recover soon. At last, he was certain that the first companion he had made on this journey might never return.

With that thought, Xue Ming closed his eyes. Both arms still throbbed with intense pain, and the hidden injuries in his bones kept him tossing and turning on the communal bunk, unable to sleep.

Four hours later.

Mr. David was drenched as though he had been caught in the rain. Looking like he had seen a ghost, he carried a bag of AR-15 parts and roughly shoved open the door to the second-floor bunkroom.

"Jiang Xueming?! Why did you steal my wife—no, my gun? And take her apart into pieces?!"

Jiang Xueming rolled over. His listless, corpse-like expression gave Mr. David a fright.

"Sorry. Big Brother David, I didn't listen to you. While you were asleep, I took Bu Liuxing to Fang Feng. It's my fault that he didn't come back. I was hasty and reckless. I only wanted to save my sister. I was too selfish. I was too selfish, I..."

"What did you say?" Mr. David scratched his head like a little penguin. "Bu Liuxing? Isn't he downstairs?"

"He came back?! He... he's okay? He's okay?" Jiang Xueming's shock was beyond words. Only then did he realize that the large backpack beside him was gone as well—A Xing had most likely taken it himself!

He charged down the stairs and through the corridor.

By the fireplace on the first floor, he saw Bu Liuxing standing rigidly there, wearing the large backpack and saying nothing.

It gave him an eerie feeling.

He saw A Xing standing completely still.

His eyes were blank, his hands hanging at his sides.

His eye sockets were sunken, his gaze hollow.

He looked like a soulless, despondent walking corpse.

Jiang Xueming's smile froze on his face. He deliberately kept a safe distance and carefully watched every movement the man before him made.

Could it be... could A Xing have turned into one of those monsters from the settlement too?

"Fooled you!~~" Bu Liuxing instantly returned to normal. "Hahahahaha! Hahahahahaha!"

The grin on this fun-lover's face was nearly squashed into a chrysanthemum. His thick brows and bright eyes sparkled, his eyes almost narrowed into slits.

Clutching his stomach in triumph, he jabbed hard at Xue Ming's arm, then suddenly smacked his own forehead as if he had remembered something.

"Oh, oh, oh! Sorry, your arm's injured. I won't touch you randomly anymore, I won't." Then Bu Liuxing shouted again, "Fooled you, right?! I acted convincing, didn't I?! Aba aba aba!~~"

"You're okay? Nothing happened to you at all?" Jiang Xueming let out a sigh of relief, then immediately grew wary again and grabbed some bread to hand over.

Seeing Xue Ming so tense, A Xing looked utterly unconcerned. He stuffed bread into his mouth to prove his innocence. "What? You don't believe me? Thought I was dead? Give me back my phone, and I'll copy the files for you. Then we'll trade back. Otherwise, you'll kneel and kowtow to that pink phone every day like it's a memorial tablet. Bad luck."

Only then did Jiang Xueming finally believe it. This was undoubtedly the same old fun-lover. It was rare to hear him laugh aloud. "Heh. Hehehehe, hahahahaha!"

Bu Liuxing laughed along with him. "I kept telling you on the way here to smile more! This is the first time I've seen you this happy, Ming Ge!"

"Hahahahahaha, you bastard." Jiang Xueming laughed as he cursed. "How did you get out? No, wait! How did you get in? What did you see in there? That widow didn't do anything to you, did she?"

"She told me a lot of things. On the way back, or once we get to the bathhouse at Nine Realms Station, I'll explain it all to you slowly—but one thing is the most important." A Xing spoke with grave seriousness.

Jiang Xueming asked, "What is it?"

"She's been a widow for over a hundred years."

Bu Liuxing declared this with utter conviction. He made clean, strange gestures at Xue Ming as he delivered that explosive piece of information.

"I can't let her remain a living widow any longer."