Chapter Three: Reunion
Chapter Three
"Aren't you going to keep drinking? You're too thin."
Wen Zhuo: "???"
Wen Zhuo had originally planned to do this, but although she was dead and her bones were gone, her rebellious spirit remained. She immediately began to roll around on Wen Zhaoye's body, wiping the blood from her mouth all over the place.
Damn it, I don't know what's wrong with this human. Generally speaking, she can attack humans by changing the yin energy on her body. Humans cannot directly touch this kind of spirit.
But Wen Zhaoye was different. From the very beginning, he made no attempt to hide anything from her. He was not only afraid of her cold temperature and frightening appearance, but also intentionally or unintentionally wanted to have physical contact with her.
Wen Zhaoye, Wen Zhaoye, the name sounded familiar to her. Could he really be her relative?
She pulled away and looked into his eyes. His gaze was like a sticky, melted candy, his pupils dark and filled with her reflection. His eyebrows were habitually lowered, his thin eyelids covering most of his pupils, and the corners of his eyes were slightly upturned, making him look very sinister.
He let Wen Zhuo do whatever she wanted to him, a hint of helplessness on his face. But when Wen Zhuo protested and wanted to get off, he seemed to suddenly go deaf. He touched Wen Zhuo's sticking-up hair and then touched Wen Zhuo's puffed-up cheeks.
His sister really came back.
She's just as cute as she was when she was little.
Wen Zhuo glanced at her waist, which was being held tightly. Wen Zhaoye loosened his grip slightly to make it easier for her to play, but for some reason, he was unwilling to let her go completely. Wen Zhuo frowned, her face fierce, and forcibly pried Wen Zhaoye's arm off. Wen Zhaoye grunted and let go. Wen Zhuo immediately flew high into the air, raising her eyebrows triumphantly at Wen Zhaoye.
Wen Zhaoye raised his hand and licked some blood that Wen Zhuo had smeared on his lips. His bright red tongue glistened on his lips. He looked up at Wen Zhuo and asked, "Didn't you say it tasted good? Why don't you want to drink it anymore? Are you still angry with me?"
His expression remained gentle, even after she had forcefully sucked his blood for a while. The traces of blood dried on his neck and around his mouth. His raised face was illuminated by the light, making it appear very white and suppressing his overly sinister aura. The few wet streaks of blood spread out, suddenly giving his pale face some color.
Wen Zhuo was shocked. The black aura behind him, meant to project an imposing aura, froze. His gaze lingered on Wen Zhuo's lips, unable to look away for a moment.
Her eyes darted around, like a bee gathering nectar, its gaze dazzled by a profusion of flowers.
Wen Zhaoye narrowed his eyes, raised his slender fingers, and deftly unbuttoned the shirt on his chest, revealing his pectoral muscles hidden under his shirt.
Wen Zhuo's eyes widened in disbelief.
Wen Zhaoye: "......" Ha, you pervert.
Under Wen Zhaoye's smiling gaze, she shook her head, which was filled with unhealthy thoughts, and calmly assessed the current situation.
The situation is now quite clear. Wen Zhaoye must be her lover from before she died. She probably used him and then abandoned him. Otherwise, why would he be acting so neurotic? She shrank her neck. Lust is a dangerous thing. She can't do this. She is a person of principle!
She cleared her throat and replied dismissively, "Uh, I'm just full."
Wen Zhaoye didn't seem satisfied with the answer, but he didn't say anything more. He measured the distance between himself and Wen Zhuo with his gaze, and asked in a nostalgic tone:
“When you were little, all you wanted was for me to hold you,” he sighed softly, “but now you’ve grown up.”
Wen Zhuo refused to be morally blackmailed: "I don't remember."
Wen Zhaoye's brows twitched when he heard her words.
He said, "Yes, you have amnesia, I understand."
Wen Zhuo frowned and floated down, stopping in front of Wen Zhaoye. She deliberately kept her height half a head higher than him, so that he had to look up to see her face.
The pale light illuminated his features, and her image was still reflected in his dark eyes, but the complex and ever-changing emotions within them overflowed from his trembling pupils.
Wen Zhuo couldn't understand his gaze, but found it amusing.
Her tone was flat, her words carrying a naive cruelty, as if she wanted to tear off the mask Wen Zhaoye was wearing. She said, "Who are you?"
Wen Zhaoye looked up and met Wen Zhuo's malicious gaze, and calmly replied, "I am your brother."
"Oh—" Wen Zhuo said in a steady tone, making several ups and downs in the last syllable, as she leaned closer to him, her cold lips almost touching Wen Zhaoye's cheek: "This kind of older brother?"
The way Wen Zhaoye had made her drink blood and questioned her about why she wouldn't continue seemed like a hallucination. He gently pushed Wen Zhuo's forehead with his fingers, tapping it lightly as if he had muscular dystrophy, and said, "It's not like that."
Wen Zhuo nodded haphazardly, then started tugging at his clothes again: "Is this what you mean?"
She lifted the hem of Wen Zhaoye's shirt. The ghost was very strong, and the seemingly fragile garment quickly tore apart under her hands, exposing her lean muscles to the air.
Before Wen Zhuo could take a few more glances, Wen Zhaoye frowned slightly and gently scolded, "Wen Zhuo."
Wen Zhuo stood at attention.
Wen Zhuo: "?" What's going on?
She stared warily at Wen Zhaoye, wondering what kind of evil magic this man was using.
Wen Zhaoye looked at Wen Zhuo's frizzy hair, a few strands of which angrily wrapped around his arm, and a soft laugh escaped his lips.
Wen Zhuo glanced at his face a few times before looking away and saying with dissatisfaction, "You're really boring, I'm not playing with you anymore."
Wen Zhuo suddenly leaped onto the wall, and Wen Zhaoye's feet subconsciously followed her back. Only after seeing Wen Zhuo disappear from the wall did he realize that Wen Zhuo was now a ghost.
He lowered his head, and shadows slid down his forehead, obscuring his eyes and brows. The cool aura emanating from Wen Zhuo slowly receded from his side.
He raised his hand, as if trying to grasp that wisp of air, but his gaze moved to the wall through which the heat had penetrated.
She has such a bad temper.
........
Wen Zhuo sat under the tree, raindrops passing through her body and splashing in the muddy puddles beside her legs. She observed the villa; the place felt very familiar to her.
A few brief images flashed through my mind, which was blank as if it had been hollowed out, and then quickly disappeared.
Wen Zhuo tapped his head, as if trying to save his brain from a blank television screen.
There's no response.
"If you keep filming, you'll go crazy."
Wen Zhuo: "?"
She turned her head and saw a figure standing alone in the rain, the shirt at the chest still open, raindrops sliding in from the deep hollow of the collarbone.
How long had she walked before she caught up with me?
She's all wet, isn't she uncomfortable? This person changed her clothes, so she's not going to keep wearing the same old clothes herself, is she?
He walked toward her with slow, deliberate steps, as if he had just happened to spot her while strolling around, if she hadn't only been gone for a few minutes.
Wen Zhaoye stood in front of her and pulled her up from the ground: "Did you remember something?"
Wen Zhuo dodged his hand and replied, "No."
She had no interest in her past; since it was something she had forgotten, there was no need for her to remember it.
Wen Zhaoye squatted down and patted Wen Zhuo's very dry hair: "Stand up, your clothes are dirty. What are you doing standing under the tree, trying to avoid the rain?"
Wen Zhuo: "?" Is there something wrong with your brain?
She stood up and took a big step back, distancing herself from Wen Zhaoye as if avoiding a plague: "I'm a ghost, I won't get wet in the rain."
Wen Zhaoye also stood up, reached out and wiped the ends of her hair, and nodded, saying, "Yes, I know."
Wen Zhuo: "......" You're insane!
Does this person not understand human language? Oh no, I mean, ghost language.
As she was trying to salvage her hair, which had fallen into the clutches of evil, someone straightened the collar of her pajamas and said:
"It's so late, aren't you going to sleep yet?"
Wen Zhuo said expressionlessly, "Ghosts don't need to sleep."
"After fighting humans all day, don't ghosts need a rest?"
"You've changed into your pajamas, why aren't you asleep yet?"
"Did you sleep too much before?"
“You used to sleep until noon every day, sleeping like a log. This isn’t right. Go get checked out tomorrow.”
Every sentence was accompanied by various inexplicable little gestures. Even when Wen Zhuo floated onto his head, he would pull it down and straighten his clothes.
Please, you've snatched this tattered pajama almost ten times today. Do you have ADHD?
The man chattered incessantly, his words seemingly nonsensical, his voice swirling in her head like chanting.
Wen Zhuo: "..."
Wen Zhuo clutched her head and collapsed, spinning around in despair. Ugh, so annoying!
She looked up at the culprit, covered his mouth with one hand, and tore open the button on his collar with the other, reaching inside to grope him.
Wen Zhaoye: "?" He looked down at Wen Zhuo's hand, then looked up at her with a strange expression.
The world is quiet.
Wen Zhuo felt relieved and squeezed it with her fingers; it was soft.
Wen Zhaoye frowned and pulled her hand out, leaving the matter aside for the moment: "Wen Zhuo," he said in a very serious tone, "how come you can't even tear a piece of clothing?"
Wen Zhuo: "?" What does this mean? Is he provoking her? She didn't even use any force!
Wen Zhuo immediately sprang to her feet, her black hair stretching out rapidly like seaweed, a thick aura of yin energy spreading out, obscuring the sky and the sun, her eyes deep red like blood.
His cold, gloomy gaze fell upon Wen Zhaoye.
Wen Zhaoye: "..."
"Could you please put your hands in the right place while you're installing this?"
Wen Zhuo silently withdrew her fingers from Wen Zhaoye's abs, but halfway through, she suddenly realized something was wrong. Now she had the upper hand, and she could touch him as she pleased.
She put it back and rubbed it quite boldly.
Wen Zhaoye: "..." Did Wen Zhuo have this fetish before? He had never seen him like this before. Could it be that he enjoys watching other people's?!
His brows furrowed tightly. Whose photos had Wen Zhuo seen before? Could it be that Wen Zhuo was secretly in a relationship? Who was it?
Wen Zhu bent down and leaned closer, interrupting his train of thought: "Are you really angry?"
When Wen Zhaoye looked up, he saw Wen Zhuo's hair flying wildly everywhere, piercing through several trees before sensing his gaze and flying over through the trees.
That's absurd.
Wen Zhaoye felt as if he had returned to his childhood, when Wen Zhuo, covered in filth, would pounce on him like this.
His temples throbbed: "Warm and hot."
A cold, ethereal voice rang out: "What?" This was her most relaxed state, when she didn't need to forcefully control her yin energy and emotions.
"Don't use your hair indiscriminately, it's dirty outside."
Wen Zhuo turned her head and glanced at it. Her hair, which was strung together with the tree branches, was thrown aside, and she happily burrowed into the soil.
It's filthy! Sensing her will, the cheerful hair froze in mid-air, shook itself sheepishly, and then lay quietly behind her, pretending to be dead.
Wen Zhaoye grasped her wandering hand, but he found that simply holding it couldn't stop Wen Zhuo's movements; she would still tickle his palm. So Wen Zhaoye forcefully inserted his fingers between her fingers, clamping them like a torture device, and led her into the villa.
Wen Zhuo has only just become a ghost, so he can't stay outside for that long. He should wait at least seven days until he resolves the hidden danger.
Wen Zhuo was stunned. She tried to pull her hand away like pulling a radish, but found that she couldn't break free. Her knuckles were throbbing from being gripped so tightly.
"It hurts! You're abusing me!" Wen Zhuo cried out.
"...What are you, a ghost, feeling pain about?" His back stopped, and he turned to look at Wen Zhuo. Wen Zhuo had already put away the yin energy and hair, and was looking around while calling out perfunctorily, even having time to pull a few blades of grass and stuff them into his pocket.
He opened his pocket and peeked inside; it contained a wide variety of items—all sorts of junk.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Wen Zhuo noticed that his body had suddenly stopped moving. His ears twitched, and he realized what was happening. He immediately shut his mouth and started looking at the sky. Ah, the sky was so dark, and the stars were so bright.
Wen Zhaoye: "..."
He shook his head and said slowly, "I will be working from home for the next few days. You cannot leave this villa. I will arrange your meals."
Wen Zhuo took the opportunity to ask, "Three meals a day? What do you want to eat? Can I order? I'd like to eat snail rice noodles." Actually, it was Wen Zhaoye himself who really wanted to eat them.
“Even ghosts can’t eat junk food.” Wen Zhaoye turned to look at Wen Zhuo with a serious expression, as if he was about to launch into another long-winded argument about her eating junk food. Even his gloomy aura was shrouded in the light of a feudal patriarch, making him appear righteous.
Wen Zhuo covered her ears, took the opportunity to shake off Wen Zhaoye's hand, and quickly floated away while muttering something incoherently, clutching her head.
"Wen Zhaoye is not human! Overthrow the feudal autocratic rule!"
"That's ridiculous. As an independent ghost, can't I eat by myself?"
"Is Wen Zhaoye not human, or a ghost?"
"Tonight I'll climb into his bed, pretend to be a ghost, and torture him."
Wen Zhaoye: "......" Elementary school student?
He waited.
At midnight, the rain was still drizzling, and strangely shaped clouds obscured the moonlight, with only a few beams of light leaking through the middle.
Wen Zhuo walked openly into Wen Zhaoye's room. She couldn't find her way around and it took her a while to find it. She went through the door and walked around the bed.
Not asleep?
Why aren't you asleep so late?
She didn't see anyone walking outside when she was looking around.
She circled the bed a few more times, puzzled. How strange.
The moon moved slowly, and as the clock struck twelve, it stood at the highest point in the sky.
Suddenly feeling dizzy, Wen Zhuo collapsed weakly into a warm embrace.
The man had broad shoulders that completely covered Wen Zhuo. He reached out with his right hand to pull Wen Zhuo's knees behind him and held her in his arms. His sharp eyebrows were hidden in the darkness, and his expression was completely different from how he had been with Wen Zhuo during the day. His brows looked sinister.
—This is the Wen Zhaoye she has been searching for.
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