I Have a Plan

Dusk blanketed the entire valley.

The purplish-black mist had retreated to the very edge of the distant horizon, lying prostrate at the bottom of the narrowest orange-red band of light along the mountain ridge, no longer surging or churning, like a giant beast lying on the ground, finally retracting its claws, so quiet that only its breathing remained.

When the wind blows from the west, a very thin wisp of mist is lifted from the surface, like fine gauze torn apart by the wind, and it dissipates in less than three feet without leaving a trace.

A person stood at the edge of the valley.

The man was shrouded in a dark purple aura, like a robe woven from thick fog covering his body, with tiny purplish-black particles constantly falling off, dissipating, and then reforming at the edges.

He tilted his head slightly.

His gaze shifted to the side, and through the last thin layer of purplish-black mist, he saw the people standing outside the circle.

The six people kept their eyes fixed on the people participating in the trial.

They were clearly a little nervous.

The Ruin Old Demon swept his gaze across their faces one by one.

The same thing is etched on every face.

That thing has no name, but it is crystal clear when it falls into your eyes, like a bronze mirror that has been repeatedly hammered, with scratches and marks on the surface, but the light beneath the mirror is still bright and warm.

His gaze lingered on Ye Xinglan's face for a moment longer.

She stood in the twilight, the last orange-red light of dusk falling on her left shoulder, bathing half of her body in a warm, golden-orange hue.

Her gaze pierced through the thin mist and landed on him, or more precisely, on the depths of the dark purple aura behind him, the place that had always been shrouded and whose true form had never been revealed.

The faint red rim around her eyes was barely noticeable in the orange light, but the gap between her knuckles in her two hands clenched in front of her was trembling slightly.

The Ruin Old Demon looked away.

He smiled silently, a smile unseen by anyone but fleeting in his own eyes, like a ripple spreading across the surface of a deep pool after a breeze, which quickly faded away.

He lowered his eyes, his figure, enveloped in aura, took a slight half-step back, retreating into the deeper darkness, leaving the area in the center of the open space illuminated by the last ray of sunlight.

The fog has lifted.

Starting from the center of the open space, the purplish-black mist billowed out to both sides, like a heavy door being pushed open from the middle, revealing the road that had been traveled for a whole month behind it.

There was no sound when the fog cleared; only the tiny, dark particles in the air swirled and rose in the last gust of wind, reaching mid-air and being illuminated by the orange-red light of the sky, like a swarm of tiny, dark fireflies flying towards the sunset.

After the fog cleared, a boy stood in the center of the open space.

Yun Jingheng stood there, his legs slightly apart, shoulder-width apart, the soles of his boots resting in the center of the crisscrossing footprints he had made over the past month.

His breathing was steady, with little rise and fall of his chest. Each inhale was a little deeper than the last, as if he had finally confirmed that the air was clean and safe to breathe into his lungs.

His left arm hung down at his side, and the light gray line on the outside of his forearm was now just a faint trace, like an ink line that had been repeatedly washed, so light in color that it almost blended into his skin.

Yun Jingheng slowly turned around.

His movements were slow; his left scapula rotated backward first, causing his entire spine to rotate segment by segment.

His boot sole rolled half a circle in the mud, his foot changed direction, and he stepped firmly. Then his whole body changed from facing away from the crowd to facing sideways, and then from facing sideways to facing forward.

He stood facing them.

As dusk settled behind him, the last narrow band of orange-red light in the west formed a long, light, warm-colored background, framing his silhouette with a soft, bright edge.

The wind ruffled his hair, and a few stray strands of hair swayed gently above his brow.

A smile first appeared in his eyes.

The smile that had been lingering in his eyes for so long spread outwards along his gaze, reaching the fine lines at the corners of his eyes and the thin line left after the old scab had healed at the corner of his mouth, softening his face, which had been angular and more defined than before due to the wind, sand and wounds of the past month.

The upward curve of his lips wasn't pronounced, but it was genuine.

It was so genuine that everyone who saw that smile felt a sense of relief, like a clenched fist finally being able to open.

The Ruin Old Demon spoke up at the opportune moment, "The Ruin Trial is over. Congratulations on completing the Seven Trials of Devil Island. You may choose to leave here first, or..."

His words trailed off as he looked at the seven people embracing each other and added with a smile.

"We can also wait for them to go back together."

The next day, Yun Jingheng stretched lazily and pushed open the door to go out.

The Nightmare Old Demon sat cross-legged under the withered tree in front of the house, his elbows resting on his knees, holding a small, rough porcelain bowl in his palm, from which thin wisps of steam rose.

He heard the door open, turned his head to look at Yun Jingheng standing by the threshold, raised his eyebrows slightly, his right eyebrow twitching upwards before falling back down.

"Your trial ended yesterday, why don't you get some more sleep?"

He said that the usual, listless, and weary tone in his voice was still there, but underneath there was a very faint, almost imperceptible warmth.

Yun Jingheng stood at the doorway, the morning light streaming in from behind him, illuminating the outline of his shoulders and casting a narrow shadow on the threshold.

He stretched his neck, and his cervical spine made two soft cracking sounds. His chin tilted to the left to its limit and then turned back to the center. The clarity in his eyes, nurtured by a good night's sleep, shone with a thin luster in the morning light.

"I'm not going to sleep," he said, reaching for the waterproof bag by the door and slinging it over his shoulder. "I'm going to go and get some more seafood for them as side dishes."

The Nightmare Old Demon held the rough porcelain bowl, blew on the steam rising from its surface, took a small sip, swallowed, and then looked up at him again.

His gaze lingered on Yun Jingheng's face for a moment before shifting to the bulging waterproof bag at his waist. The curve of his lips was a half-smile, as if something was hanging on his lips, not in a hurry to fall off.

"You've been eating those things on the island for almost a month now, you know better than anyone what they taste like."

Nightmare Old Demon said slowly and deliberately, his tone as flat as reciting today's weather, "Those things don't taste good, they're hard to swallow, and you'll want to vomit after eating them. But you know what's going on, the concentration of life energy in them, you couldn't get even a small bite of that from a hundred pounds of normal fish and shrimp outside."

Yun Jingheng had already wrapped the strap of the waterproof bag around his shoulder once and tightened it. The weight of the bag dipped slightly at his shoulder blades and then stabilized.

He turned his head to look at the Nightmare Old Demon, his expression unchanged. The morning light shone on the shallow line on his brow, casting a thin shadow on the edge of the rice-grain-sized protrusion.

"I know," he said, speaking at a moderate pace.

"I'll make them eat those things. Normal fish and shrimp are just side dishes. A few more bites of something to swallow in their bowls will make the bitterness in their mouths less noticeable, and they can endure a couple more meals."

The Nightmare Old Demon looked at him, the ambiguous smile in his eyes not disappearing, but the hint of testing deep within was covered by something softer.

He nodded, not continuing the topic, and took another sip of the hot tea in his bowl. He paused when the rim of the cup touched his lower lip, as if he had remembered something.

Yun Jingheng swayed the cloth bag on his shoulder a little higher to make his center of gravity fall more smoothly, and then took two steps toward the withered tree.

He stopped when he reached Xie Xie's side, looking down at the person kneeling before the Nightmare Old Demon, knees together, back slightly hunched.

Xie Xie knelt in the shadow of the withered tree.

His back was hunched into an unnatural bow shape, his hands resting on his knees, his knuckles gripping the fabric of his trousers until they turned white.

His breathing was shallow and rapid, and with each inhale, his shoulders would shrug upwards, as if he hadn't recovered from being startled by something.

His face was clearly visible in the morning light, a whole layer paler than usual. The rosy blush on his cheekbones, which he had developed over the years from the sea breeze, had faded completely, leaving only a thin, bluish base color.

His lips were slightly parted, leaving a slit between his upper and lower lips, through which he breathed, like a fish washed ashore in shallow water. His gill covers were still opening and closing, but he was no longer very strong.

His eyes were open, but his gaze wasn't fixed on anything specific.

His pupils were dilated, his focus fixed on the ground a foot and a half in front of his knees, as if he were looking at something very deep and far away, so far that his gaze pierced through the soil beneath his feet, through the foundation of the entire Devil Island, through the seawater and rock layers, and landed on a spot that only he could see.

Yun Jingheng stood beside him, looking down at him for a long while.

Then he looked away and gazed at the Nightmare Old Demon sitting under the withered tree, holding a bowl.

What did you show him?

He asked, his voice not loud, but every word clear, "Why are you shaking like this?"

The Nightmare Old Demon removed the bowl from his lips.

He pursed his lips, wiping away the tea stains remaining on them, then looked at Yun Jingheng. The ambiguous smile in his eyes slowly intensified, spreading from the corners of his eyes towards his pupils.

"What did you see?"

Nightmare Old Demon repeated the sentence, his voice rising slightly at the end, with a playful tone, as if he were savoring something, "Nightmare Trials, huh? What else could he see? He saw his greatest fear."

After he said that, the corners of his mouth curved into a smile.

The curve wasn't wide, but it extended from the corner of his mouth all the way to the corner of his eye, transforming his listless and weary face into an expression of extreme enjoyment that made one's teeth itch to look at him.

His left eyelid twitched slightly, as if he was holding something in. He held it in for about two breaths, then couldn't hold it in any longer and let out a very soft, breathy laugh from deep in his throat.

"Hey, I just gave him a little hint, guess what he dreamed about?"

Yun Jingheng sat down next to the Nightmare Old Demon. "Hmm... we can't exactly be chased around carrying a toilet plunger covered in poop, can we?"

Nightmare Old Demon was taken aback. "This... makes sense?"

The playful tone in his voice was diluted by something, and a faint layer of surprise, as if he had been outmaneuvered, surfaced beneath. "You're just making up stories about your brother like that?"

Yun Jingheng turned his head to look at the Nightmare Old Demon. The morning light fell on his profile, clearly illuminating the faint line on his brow. His face, weathered by a month of wind and sand, appeared calmer than usual in the morning light, as calm as a freshly wiped mirror, showing no ripples.

"I didn't make fun of him," he said, his voice flat and even carrying an overly earnest sincerity.

"You asked me what I thought he dreamed about, and I made a guess. Whether my guess was reasonable or not, that's what you said yourself."

Nightmare Old Demon put down the rough porcelain bowl and placed both palms down on his knees.

He stared at Yun Jingheng for three breaths, trying to find a trace of suppressed laughter on that calm face, but Yun Jingheng's expression remained unchanged, his lips hanging flatly, without even the slightest upward curve at the corners of his mouth.

"Do you know the mechanics of the Nightmare Trials?" the Nightmare Old Demon said, his speech slowing down slightly, as if he were testing something.

"It will expose a person's deepest, most unbearable things, laying them bare and bloody before their eyes. These things are different for everyone; some are afraid of death, some are afraid of loss, and some are afraid of themselves."

"Mm." Yun Jingheng nodded, his posture extremely cooperative.

"What about that thing you just mentioned—"

Nightmare Old Demon gestured with his right thumb in Xie Xie's direction, "Being chased while being carried by a toilet plunger stained with shit—do you think that's 'the deepest, most unbearable thing for a person to face'?"

Yun Jingheng thought about it carefully for a moment, keeping his head tilted at the same angle, his gaze falling on the patch of soil at the base of the withered tree in front of him, illuminated by the morning light.

He thought for about five breaths, then turned back to look at the Nightmare Old Demon. His lips finally moved, curving upwards from a straight arc at a tiny, almost imperceptible angle.

"You are the Nightmare Old Demon," he said. "You've seen so many people's Nightmare."

"Have you ever considered that sometimes the deepest fears are not those that seem grand?"

"Death, loss, self—those certainly count, but what some people fear most are certain absurdly specific scenarios—like being chased by a toilet plunger covered in excrement, with everyone on the street watching. You can't run away, you can't hide, and every time you look back, the plunger gets an inch closer to you."

He paused, then added, "This has nothing to do with death, but it's something you'll remember for a lifetime. Every time you wake up in the middle of the night and think about it, it sends chills down your spine."

The Nightmare Old Demon suddenly grabbed his hand and shook it up and down, "Genius! Genius!"

Yun Jingheng asked in a serious tone, "So what did you make him dream about?"

The Nightmare Old Demon scratched his face. "I made him dream that his favorite girl died in front of him, and it kept playing on repeat."

"Hey~ No way!" Yun Jingheng waved his hand and slapped Nightmare Old Demon's shoulders hard with both hands.

"I have a plan that will make your Nightmare trials even more terrifying and unforgettable! Do you want to hear it?"

The Nightmare Old Demon looked at him with shining eyes, "I want to! I want to!"

"Alright! Very well then~ Please listen to my explanation slowly~"

Yun Jingheng's eyes were filled with cunning. "Xie Xie's favorite person is Yuanen Yehui, who is also the person he fears most. So, let's add something to your Nightmare."

"Didn't the girl he liked die in front of him? Make her come back to life! Then chase after him with a toilet plunger stained with poop in one hand! While chasing him, ask: Why? Why did you abandon me?"

What do you think?