We Have to Hit Hard

"You're awake."

Zhang Ze opened his eyes.

Before him was a massive Tree Hole. At his side, Old Zhou watched him with a worried expression.

"Who are you?"

"Why am I in this place?"

Zhang Ze clutched his head, trying to recall what had happened before, but he could not remember anything. His past memories seemed fragmented, and he could not recall even the slightest detail.

"My surname is Zhou. Just call me Old Zhou."

"You revived, which means that woman killed you. Sigh, it's a long story. You got dragged into this because you were protecting my son. I'm sorry."

Old Zhou looked grief-stricken.

Zhang Ze stared at Old Zhou for a long while. He could not see any sign of an act on the middle-aged man's face.

But what Old Zhou had said... was too bizarre.

Zhang Ze found it difficult to accept for the moment.

Unless he had left himself some information.

With that thought, Zhang Ze felt around in his shoulder bag.

Inside the bag was a note and a pair of severed hands wrapped in a plastic bag.

"I am Zhang Ze. If you are seeing these words, it proves that you are already dead."

"You will lose all your memories, but you recognize your own handwriting. I specifically wrote this note in case of an accident."

"My original plan was to try and reform Lingling, the female ghost of the World in the Painting. Even if I failed, I needed to send a friendly signal. If you see this note, it means she had no intention of negotiating and killed you outright. She is a Red-Clothed Vengeful Ghost driven by pure malice."

"We have to hit hard!"

"Please follow the plan below."

"..."

Zhang Ze finished reading the note.

The confusion in his eyes faded, replaced by calm.

He already knew what had happened.

As expected of himself. He had written this note in the cabin. After reading Lin Wan's message, Zhang Ze had worried that something might go wrong with the plan, so he had prepared this backup.

It seemed the backup had come in handy.

"Old Zhou, chop off my hands."

"What?"

"Your son's life is still unknown. If we want to end all this, do as I say!"

There was an unquestionable force in Zhang Ze's voice.

Old Zhou could only comply.

There were no tools in the Tree Hole, so Old Zhou found a sharp stone outside. He did not even have time to polish it before bringing it straight to Zhang Ze.

"Do it!"

Old Zhou looked at Zhang Ze's hands resting on the ground, his expression troubled.

"Do it! Do you want your son to die here too?!"

Zhang Ze said coldly.

Seeing this, Old Zhou hesitated no longer.

He raised the stone high and smashed it down viciously onto Zhang Ze's hand.

The edge of the stone was like a blade. Though it could not compare to a real blade, it was still sharp enough to be considered a weapon.

Crack!

Zhang Ze's wrist was instantly cut open, blood spilling all over the ground.

Crack!

Zhang Ze's bone broke with a sharp snapping sound.

"Do... do I keep going?" Old Zhou asked tremulously.

"Keep going! Smash them off completely!!"

Zhang Ze said through ragged breaths.

It hurt.

Sweat drenched his head from the pain, and it felt as if he might pass out at any moment. From the blood loss, even his consciousness had begun to blur, but adrenaline forced him to remain awake.

Time was precious.

There was no turning back after drawing the bow.

Crack!

Crack!

The smashing sounds were horrifying.

The forest had never known such sounds before.

Crow noticed the commotion.

When it saw the scene inside the Tree Hole, Crow flapped its wings and began cawing.

"This is bad. Little Bear will be back soon."

"If Little Bear comes back, that means that woman will find us right away."

"We should run."

Old Zhou looked tense.

"Do as I say," Zhang Ze repeated. "If you're scared, you can run away on your own. I'll do it myself."

"But it'll be much less efficient. I might die, and if I fail, your son's chances of surviving will be even lower."

At the mention of his son,

Old Zhou gritted his teeth.

Crack!

Once again, the stone smashed down on Zhang Ze's wrist.

In just a few minutes, Zhang Ze's wrists had been battered into a bloody mess, no longer resembling anything whole.

Crack!

The final blow.

The stone completely severed the connection between his wrists and palms.

By now, the Crows outside the Tree Hole had gathered in large numbers.

At most, the Red-Clothed woman would find them in a few minutes.

Zhang Ze endured the pain.

Using his severed wrists, he opened the plastic bag and revealed the pair of deathly pale Ghost Hands inside.

"The rules of the World in the Painting are like those of a cartoon. No matter how seriously a character is injured, they will recover quickly."

"These hands are part of Lingling."

This was Zhang Ze's trump card.

He had not handed the Ghost Hands over to Lingling the moment they met. That would have been like giving the other side all his bargaining chips at the start of a negotiation. Only an idiot would do that.

If Lingling had been successfully reformed,

Zhang Ze would naturally have returned the Ghost Hands to their rightful owner.

Lingling would have become whole again, and she might even have removed the restrictions on her previous killings and become stronger.

But since Lingling had killed Zhang Ze and refused a toast only to drink a forfeit,

Then Zhang Ze would not be blamed for becoming inhuman!

"What the hell is that?"

Old Zhou was dumbfounded.

He could not believe his eyes.

So Zhang Ze had asked him to chop off his hands in order to replace them with a new pair.

Was that really something a person could think of?

The properties of the World in the Painting began to take effect.

When Zhang Ze attached the Ghost Hands to his severed wrists, he clearly felt sensation returning to his wrists and the pain weakening, as though every blood vessel and nerve had connected to those hands that had been dead for so long.

Modern medicine could only reattach severed hands with clean cuts.

Old Zhou had smashed Zhang Ze's hands off with a stone. Not even immortals could have reattached them.

But this was the World in the Painting.

Even the dead could revive, and no matter how severe an injury was, it would heal quickly.

"It worked."

A chill came from the Ghost Hands.

Zhang Ze opened his eyes again.

At that moment, his eyes no longer saw only what was before him. Instead, he could see the entire forest.

This entire forest had been painted.

And the Crows were extensions of his vision, the smallest units of Zhang Ze himself.

He understood why Crow could always lead Lingling here.

Because this was also Lingling's perspective.

Several hundred meters away,

Through Crow's vision, Zhang Ze saw Lingling.

Deep within the undergrowth,

Li Yang found the Cellar.

The Cellar stood beside a Blood Lake.

In the cartoon, this lake was where nearby animals fished and bathed. But in the World in the Painting, the water was blood-red and viscous.

The Cellar was by the lake.

Li Yang had almost reached the Cellar.

But Crow was faster than he was.

Before he could touch the Cellar, the Red-Clothed woman's figure appeared among the flock of Crows again.

Li Yang's face immediately turned ashen.

Seeing the Red-Clothed woman meant Zhang Ze was already dead. His attempt to stall for time had failed, and he was about to die again.

It did not matter if he died.

Little Zhou would die with him.

Little Zhou was still on his first life. If he died too, there would be no saving him in reality.

Just as all hope seemed lost,

The flock of Crows did not fly away when the Red-Clothed woman appeared.

Instead, they continued circling overhead.

Even the Red-Clothed woman showed a hint of confusion.

Why had these Crows not disappeared?

She had carried out dozens of hunts and accumulated dozens of kills, yet she had never encountered such a situation.

"I gave you a chance, Lingling."

"I originally wanted to help you."

"Now I've changed my mind. I want you dead."