Hu Pu took off her scarf, revealing skin dotted with livor mortis.
Then, wearing that white burial shroud, she climbed down into the pit in the snow and lay down.
Her eyes stayed open, and her chest did not rise or fall, as though she were a walking corpse on standby.
Lu Mi understood.
Hu Pu had been dead for a long time.
The heavy stench of urine was there to mask the smell of her rotting body.
She foraged outside during the day and lay in the snow pit at night. Even when she returned indoors, she never lit a fire, all to use the cold to slow her body's decay.
Perhaps she could not touch the Hu Pu living in the single-story house in the fields because they belonged to different points in time and space.
The two Hu Pus looked much the same. The one in the wheelchair must have died not long afterward.
Lu Mi carefully recalled the lifeless eyes with which Hu Pu had gazed out the window, and felt a little sad.
If someone had the misfortune to end up like that, watching everyone else bustle about while they alone were left behind, even becoming a burden, perhaps they would wish their life would end sooner.
The relief she had felt at the moment of death had become the smile forever welded to Hu Pu's face.
But if Hu Pu was already dead, why was she still trying to kill her former self?
Lu Mi controlled the wind, removing the key from around Hu Pu's neck right beneath her open eyes. His heart felt ready to leap out of his chest.
Fortunately, Hu Pu did not react. She was just like a real corpse.
With the key in hand, he decided to go down