Chapter 230 Epilogue - New World Arc (Twenty-Seven)

Both were fires, and both were the sole survivors...

It's still easy to make associations, isn't it?

So, after several years, Yu Qingzhou saw that face again—the face she had seen in her nightmares—withered, wrinkled, and like an old man's child.

It was a monkey's face.

Without the floral collar and hat to conceal it, the face was reflected exceptionally clearly in the boy's slowly contracting pupils.

Perhaps he looked a little older than she remembered, but without a doubt, Yu Qingzhou recognized that face.

Just as the owner of that face also remembered him vividly.

Yu Qingzhou heard rapid breathing mixed with fear and excitement coming from the other side, and watched the small chest under the hunched body heaving violently, like a bellows about to go on strike due to being overburdened.

The monkey's eye sockets were stretched to their limit, and its mouth was open.

From between the cracked, withered lips came not the sharp howl of a wild beast, but a series of rapid words.

"—It was him, it was him! I saw it with my own eyes, he set fire to those people and burned them to death!"

Perhaps due to his emotional state, his speech sounded somewhat slurred and his tone was rather strange.

But Yu Qingzhou did indeed hear a monkey speaking in front of him. Or rather, it was the thing he had always thought was a monkey that spoke…

Ah, so what exactly is going on here?

Yu Qingzhou sat there, facing the murder accusations being made repeatedly. More than panic, she felt bewildered.

Of course, a real monkey cannot speak human language.

Something seemed to flash through his mind, and the boy suddenly shuddered, a jolt of electricity running down his spine and up to the back of his neck.

I see……

So that's what happened...

The sense of unease that had been buried deep in my memory was finally answered: why would a monkey make such a human-like expression?

Because it wasn't a monkey at all, but a person.

Perhaps they suffer from dwarfism or some other rare disease, which makes them appear different from ordinary people.

The distorted memories are gradually corrected and eroded... gradually revealing their original form.

On a drowsy afternoon, the so-called monkey show performed in the open space outside the village was not actually performed by monkeys, but rather by people imitating monkeys to perform acrobatic acts.

Afterwards, the village chief, who had always been extremely hostile to outsiders, changed his attitude and suddenly offered to let them stay overnight in the village.

"It's getting dark, and I see your family has had a tough time. Why don't you stay the night and have a simple meal? You can continue your journey tomorrow morning."

The monkey trainer hesitated: "Is...is this really okay?"

"Hey, what's there to say? It's just a matter of greeting him. Don't let his age fool you; he still holds the title of village chief, so his words still carry some weight."

As the village chief spoke, his deeply lined face wore a simple and honest smile, revealing no hint of scheming.

Of course, I didn't stay for free.

The village chief continued with a smile, "Well, I'll have to trouble you, brother. After we finish eating, please put on an extra performance for the villagers. Consider it payment for food and lodging."

Upon hearing this, the monkey trainer seemed relieved and pulled his brightly dressed companion over to thank him profusely.

They also expressed that they would give their best to repay the village chief's hospitality.

Perhaps because they heard there would be a monkey show to watch that night, the children in the village were all very excited.

However, this does not include loquats at that time.

He was still shaken by what he had seen before he fell from the tree branch, and became even more uneasy after hearing that the old village chief had kept the monkey trainer.

The child was sitting under the shade of a tree, twisting hemp rope with his head down, when he suddenly heard someone calling him.

Loquat, loquat—

Looking up, he saw the little girl who lived at the edge of the village waving at him from the courtyard gate.

Pipa didn't say anything, but looked over there with an inquiring gaze.

"Is something the matter?" he asked in a low voice.

"Hey, come over here first, it's hard to explain from so far away." The little girl said this, but she stood motionless in the shadows by the door.

It's obvious that they don't want to be in the sun too much.

Pipa sighed, but still slowly walked over: "Now you can tell me what it is, right?"

The little girl replied matter-of-factly, "Anyway, you're free anyway, why don't you come play together?"

[...]

Pipa didn't know which eye the other person had used to see it; he was just idling around anyway.

But Pipa politely declined the invitation.

Firstly, I had just fallen and wasn't really keen on moving around.

Secondly, he didn't really have any connection with this little girl in front of him—the children in the village each had their own circle of playmates, and Pipa had always been excluded from that circle.

This sudden turn of events makes it hard not to feel that something is amiss.

Pipa was naturally not very keen on agreeing.

However, he couldn't refuse too bluntly. After all, they lived in the same village and would see each other all the time. He didn't want to worsen the already strained neighborly relations because of his own actions.

[Let's forget it. I don't play games, and I don't want to spoil the fun.]

[That's precisely why you need to play more if you don't know how.]

The little girl pouted: "You're not still holding a grudge about us not including you before, are you? How can a grown man be so petty?"

Pipa hadn't expected that at all, and was completely stunned.

Just as I was about to deny it, the young girl on the other end spoke up again: "Hey, playing a game together won't hurt..."

Suddenly, she stepped forward, grabbed the child's arm, and whispered in a low voice, "You don't want anyone to know you sneaked off to the back hillside, do you?"

Upon hearing this, Pipa's heart skipped a beat.

Seeing the child's expression, a mixture of surprise and unease, the little girl winked triumphantly.

They were about the same age, but girls of the same age always grow up faster.

At this moment, she adopted an air of superiority, confidently asking, "So, have you decided whether to go or not?"

Loquats don't like being coerced.

He was silent for a moment, his fist clenched and unclenched behind his back, and finally he just nodded obediently.

"Alright," he said.

He paused, then hesitated slightly: "But I have to ask my mom. What if she doesn't agree..."

"That's none of my business. The others are waiting. Either you come along, or—"

The young girl gave a mischievous smile: "I'm going to expose your little secret to everyone. Now, you decide what to do."

The loquat felt like it had swallowed a heavy weight, hard, cold, and making it hard to breathe.

Even so, he walked step by step into the vegetable garden, where his mother was weeding.

Hearing his footsteps, she asked without looking up, "What's wrong?"

Pipa swallowed hard and explained the maid's purpose—omitting, of course, the part about the maid threatening her.

Surprisingly, the mother agreed very quickly.

To be precise, the latter's original words were, "It depends on you."

"Go if you want to, but don't force yourself if you don't," the mother said.

Pipa naturally didn't want to go, but he also had reasons he couldn't refuse.

The child hesitated for a moment, then couldn't help but ask, "I thought you didn't like the people in the village..."

If you don't like it, shouldn't you stay far away from it?

Pipa thought to herself, taking it all in stride.

But then she saw that the woman had stopped what she was doing and was looking up at them. Her gaze was fixed on Pipa's body and face, making the latter feel flustered.

"Aren't you from this village?" the mother suddenly asked.

Upon hearing this, Pipa felt a tightness in her throat, as if she had been plunged into icy water, unsure of how to react.

The next moment, a smile that was hard to describe as either mocking or forlorn appeared on the woman's face.

Then again, who isn't like that?

She muttered to herself, then, as if suddenly realizing there was someone standing not far away, asked somewhat curiously, "What are you still standing there for? Weren't you going out to play?"

"Ah, yes, we need to go out, right now," Pipa stammered in reply.

As I left, I seemed to hear my mother's soft whisper: "Be careful, don't run or jump around, or you'll hurt yourself again."

Upon hearing this, Pipa paused slightly and responded with mixed feelings.

There was no stopping, nor turning back.

Yet it seemed as if one could sense a gaze silently watching them leave from behind.

[What's going on? It's been so long.] By the time Pipa returned, the little maid at the door had been waiting impatiently for a long time.

When they arrived, they learned that someone was sick and bedridden at home, so they had temporarily brought loquats to fill in.

"What do you want to play?" Pipa asked somewhat awkwardly.

The children present included some older than him and some younger, but they were all little girls.

As the only boy among them, he naturally felt somewhat out of place.

Oh, look at him, so blank and silly.

Some people bluntly pointed out.

Others chimed in, saying, "Hey, Ah-Xi, is it any good that you found such a blockhead?"

After being asked this question, the little girl seemed to begin to doubt her choice, but of course she couldn't admit defeat on the surface.

Putting everything else aside, you can at least play drop the handkerchief, right?

When the little girl asked this question, Pipa blinked, seemingly a little confused.

However, before the other person got angry, he sincerely said, "I can learn it on the spot."

The young girl pouted upon hearing this, still seemingly somewhat dissatisfied, but at least she hadn't lost face as much.

So, with a long face and a displeased expression, the leader explained the rules of the game, concluding with the question: "Did you understand?"

It's a simple game, and there's nothing particularly difficult to understand.

only……

"I probably can't play," Pipa whispered.

The young girl suddenly became angry: "What do you mean? Are you deliberately trying to spoil the fun?!"

Pipa thought to herself that she had already said that from the beginning, but since the other party still held leverage over her, she calmly replied, "I tripped and fell earlier, so I can't run away."

As he spoke, he rolled up his trouser leg to reveal his bruised and swollen knee.

That was indeed somewhat terrifying.

The young girl glanced at it and seemed surprised as well.

Actually, you can easily notice these things with a little observation... but who cares? He's just someone temporarily brought in to make up the numbers.

The young girl pouted: "It's not like my legs are broken. Fine, if I can't run fast, I can't run fast. I can just squat there and be a decoration, right? I wasn't expecting to be of much use anyway."

The girl muttered to herself, but her tone wasn't as harsh as before.

Pipa nodded. As long as no one else present had any objections, he would have no objections either.

I'm just mentioning this in advance to prevent people from finding fault if I don't enjoy the game.

So, the group held hands and spread out a large enough circle, then let go of each other's hands and squatted down.

With a slight ache in her knees, Pipa listened to the footsteps that seemed to come from near and far, and with some difficulty buried her head in her knees.

With the young girl's earlier promise, he didn't need to worry about anyone throwing a handkerchief behind him.

[Drop, drop, drop the handkerchief...]

[You are only allowed to hear this, not to see it...]

[Quick, quick, it's here! Where is it?]

【--Where? 】

【Where? 】

【Where? 】

【Where……】

Nursery rhymes have a magical, soothing quality that makes people drowsy.

As drowsiness crept in, loquat's head began to sway slightly, almost uncontrollably. Once, twice…

When Pipa accidentally hit his chin on his kneecap and was jolted awake by the intense pain, he belatedly realized that the footsteps had disappeared sometime earlier.

He opened his eyes, and all those people he had seen before were nowhere to be seen.

The surroundings were eerily quiet, and in that quiet, a soft breathing sound coming from right behind you was unmistakably chilling.

Someone's behind me?

But would a normal person do something like this—quietly crouching behind someone and doing nothing but panting?

Was it a wild beast or...? In that instant, many terrifying images flashed through Pipa's mind.

There's no turning back.

Don't look back.

In the many stories he had heard, the best course of action in such situations was usually to simply leave as if nothing had happened.

Thinking of this, Pipa slowly stood up, supporting herself.

His movements were slow; his hands and feet were numb, and he also had to be constantly on guard against the thing behind him suddenly attacking.

Finally, Pipa stood up completely.

Then they began to walk step by step in the direction they had come from.

One step, two steps, three steps... Suddenly, he tripped on the sole of his shoe and paused for a moment. In that instant, he felt something furry brush against his back.

His scalp tingled instantly, and his hair stood on end. After a moment of stiffness, he immediately began to run wildly, as if his life depended on it.

Then, with a thud, I bumped into a warm body.

Pipa raised her head and, through the physiological tears blurring her vision from the strenuous exercise, saw her mother's familiar face.

We're saved...

[Quick! Something's up! Something strange is behind us!]

Pipa said eagerly, but froze the moment she turned her head.

There was nothing there... His back was empty.

Strange, it was only a turn of the head.

"Don't talk nonsense. There are no gods or monsters. People just have wild thoughts when they're scared. Let's go home and have dinner."

The woman touched her forehead, which was damp with cold sweat, and said.

—Is it just my own overthinking?

Pipa thought uncertainly, and was about to listen to his mother and turn back when something in the grass caught his eye. It seemed to be a child's clothes and hat, with gaudy floral patterns on the exposed corner of the fabric.

He had clearly seen that design before; he had been looking at it the whole time before he fell from the tree during the day…

That night, Pipa didn't go to see the monkey show.

Instead, he locked himself in his room, with the doors and windows tightly shut, huddled under the covers.

I was afraid that what happened in the evening would repeat itself.

Fortunately, nothing happened overnight.

When Pipa woke up the next day, she heard that the monkey trainer had already left, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

It was only later that I realized I had breathed a sigh of relief too soon.