Famine 166: The Meaning of the Farm

He could not die. But he had to die.

How could such a question exist in this world? Si Zhiyan’s mind throbbed with a dull ache.

Think of something!

There must be another way, isn’t there?!

Boom!

The thunder kept crashing down.

A bolt struck near them. The black shadow clutching Si Zhiyan reached out, conjured a pitch-black broomstick, and they suddenly lifted into the air, skimming low over the ground.

The wind howled. Si Zhiyan was held tightly by the distorted black shadow in its arms. He raised his head to look at it. It had no facial features, only bizarre black hollows where its face should be, and it wore a shabby witch’s hat—with a hole at the brim, through which poked a furry rabbit’s ear.

—A witch.

In times like this, it was she, who could cast blessings, who was the perfect protector.

Suddenly, a chord was plucked in Si Zhiyan’s mind.

He grabbed a handful of the witch’s clothes at her chest and asked, “Are you Bian Xu? I mean… are you completely, absolutely, a part of Bian Xu?”

This time, Si Zhiyan ignored the voice in his head and stared unwaveringly at the witch’s black shadow. The witch looked down at him, nodded, then shook her head. As they hurried through the lightning, their forms looked tattered and decayed, yet still carried an air of wicked carelessness, as if they were never really trying.

Si Zhiyan understood instantly. “You’re part of him—but you still retain a bit of your own consciousness?”

The witch neither confirmed nor denied it. The rabbit ear swayed slightly, like the crazy smile of a madwoman. Whether she understood or not, he could not tell.

So, he was right. Si Zhiyan could hear his own deafening heartbeat.

They were scraps of root, remnants of curses.

The curses were devoured by the core—the dangerous resentments purified by Bian Xu, and the cleansed energy sprouted into crops in the nursery. But some things were left behind—

Those former wills.

What had remained of them before they became [curses].

Witches. Nightmares. Office workers striving to survive. The mother desperate to see her deceased daughter…

All these beings who had once lived—their lingering resentment was not enough to sustain them as stray, uncanny existences; their broken relics were not enough to keep their minds awake. Only scraps of their will remained in Bian Xu’s body, lost and muddled, becoming a part of his torment. These were the [root fragments].

Boom!

Bathed in a flash of lightning, Si Zhiyan gripped her, saying, “Take me to the lower depths of the Abyss.”

Of course, the witch did not answer him. Bian Xu’s tormented voice stammered forth:

[…Sir… You&… mustn’t……]

Si Zhiyan cut him off, his scarlet pupils illuminated by lightning: “Take me down!”

[…]

Bian Xu had always obeyed him.

Carrying Si Zhiyan, the witch flew down toward the heart of the Abyss, lightning flashing all around.

They soared past level after level of the demon tower, past countless twisted grievances, plunging into a depth where no one had ever reached.

The One Hundred and First Floor of the Demon Tower. The bottom of the Abyss.

The core of the farm had already spread.

Beneath Si Zhiyan’s feet, countless pieces of jet-black flesh writhed and spread. Blood surged, wrapping around a person soaked in gore.

Bian Xu.

He hung completely naked, flesh and vessels from the writhing mass connecting to his limbs and neck, suspending him like a fruit among the meat. His head was bowed, his chest barely rising and falling; his scattered golden hair was soaked with blood, some of it stuck to his face, some of it hanging limply.

Bian Xu refused to look up, trembling faintly, desperately curling himself inward.

Si Zhiyan felt as if something had crashed hard into his heart, difficult to describe. He tentatively reached out, cupping Bian Xu’s chin, gently yet firmly lifting his face.

[…&() No… ]

Bian Xu flinched, but Si Zhiyan gave him no chance to resist.

Boom!

God’s thunder crashed down, illuminating his face.

That was a face overrun by flesh and veins, now almost unrecognizable—utterly unlike the bright smile of the youth in his memory.

No, he was no longer human.

He was now a part of the farm.

Bian Xu resembled a module on an assembly line, countless meaty vessels embedded through him, covering his entire body. Half of these veins pumped black resentment into him—his body shuddering gently—while from the other side, veins drew out the golden energy inside him, sending it flowing away, never ceasing.

Even now, it continued.

Only those eyes remained, peeking through crevices of meat—gold and brown, shimmering with moisture, as clear as the day they first met.

[…Please don’t… look…]

He shook in Si Zhiyan’s hands, his voice almost a plea.

[…I want you to… remember me…]

Remember what about me? The self I once was, when I was human, all those years we shared… Clearly, Si Zhiyan didn’t recall much of it. Bian Xu’s voice grew smaller and smaller, until the last syllables broke apart in the air, fading into silence.

Beneath the rain of lightning, Si Zhiyan cradled Bian Xu’s twisted face, lowered his head, and pressed his forehead to his.

Thump.

A soft sensation answered him.

“At last, we touch…,” he whispered with a husky laugh. “…So warm… Thank you.”

Bian Xu trembled all over.

A vine shot from his body, circling behind and winding around Si Zhiyan’s waist, shuddering, clinging tight—never letting go.

There was no more time, Si Zhiyan thought. He drew a deep breath, lifted his eyes, and stared into Bian Xu’s.

“You want to save me, don’t you?”

Bian Xu wordlessly pulled him tighter.

“Yes.” Si Zhiyan nodded, gently parting his lips…

Boom!

Lightning crashed down around them.

Within its glare, Si Zhiyan’s hoarse, tender voice sounded in Bian Xu’s ear:

“—Eat me.”

[?!]

In an instant, all the flesh at the bottom of the Abyss erupted into boiling frenzy.

“Hush. Listen to me.”

Si Zhiyan’s voice was gentle and rough, yet orderly and clear.

“I don’t want you to dissolve my soul—just devour my body. Use your power to fuse me with the Abyss, like those shadows.”

“I know you’ve been hiding this, but these shadows are all part of you too… If you can keep them, you can keep me—can’t you? Just restrain yourself, eat only a little, just enough to leave my will awake.”

“When you’ve finished feeding, I’ll be like them… finding my own existence again.”

“—Eat me. Let me be reborn in your abyss.”

Boom!

The thunder was coming faster and faster, crashing again.

The flesh boiled. Bian Xu looked on the verge of collapse, shaking uncontrollably, recoiling with frantic headshakes. This time, Si Zhiyan could barely restrain him.

[No!… &! ) I—how could I—! #￥ Eat Sir—no%… &* No… Absolutely not… never…]

On the verge of madness.

Si Zhiyan said, “Obey.”

Just those two soft syllables, and Bian Xu’s madness stopped abruptly; he forced himself into silence.

From within the cracks of flesh, golden eyes, trembling and glistening with tears, looked pleadingly at Si Zhiyan.

Si Zhiyan’s forehead pressed close to his, gazing at him from mere inches away, their breaths mingling, whispering in rough tones:

“It’s our only way. It’s alright. It’s alright… Eat only a little, just a little more…”

“When I wake, there’ll be so many things I want to ask you.”

“You can do it. I trust you.”

Bian Xu shook with agony—every word like a knife dragged from his throat, as though even the mere idea caused him unbearable pain: [If… If I fail, what then? If I can’t hold on to your will, if I devour you completely—what then…]

Si Zhiyan smiled.

“Then I’ll become a part of you.”

“…No matter life or death, success or failure, we’ll always be together.”

…
……

Bian Xu was silent for a long, long time.

At the bottom of the Abyss were the farm’s [roots]: terrifying, surging, fleshy mire.

The living, churning, devouring farm—once Si Zhiyan’s earliest nightmare.

[Farm Divine Rule—Article 5]
[The roots of the Story Seeds must not be observed, must not be consumed, must not make contact with your bodily fluids. Unless… you are prepared.]

Si Zhiyan smiled, slowly pushed his broken body upright, breaking away from the shadow’s embrace.

—And fell forward into the pitch-black Abyss.

Splash.

Countless black, trembling fleshy limbs surged up, cautiously catching that slender figure, swallowing it whole.

The young man who once blushed at a single touch of Si Zhiyan’s fingertip, was now chewing his flesh and blood.

Bian Xu was gentle—the sap of his vine injected beneath the skin, and Si Zhiyan felt no pain at all. Only that undulating, soft sensation, like a waterbed—so comfortable, so soothing to the bone. You are right here with me, enclosing me. We are together, inseparable.

The vine covered Si Zhiyan’s eyes, infinitely tender.

Go to sleep.

Si Zhiyan, drowsy, felt a smile of peace form on his lips.

He was truly, deeply tired.

……
…

Crunch. Crunch.

Blood, bone, flesh, soul.

This was the purest, the most exquisite energy—an indescribably delicious feast.

Bian Xu’s breathing almost broke. Tears fell uncontrollably. He could hardly stand. But he did not stop.

In the jet-black and lonely undercroft of the farm, no one knew—this too was Bian Xu’s own greatest nightmare.

When the farm’s integrity was low, Bian Xu’s mind was foggy and confused, drifting like a nightmare beyond control. Only one feeling was perfectly lucid: hunger.

Hungry. Famished. So hungry it was as if he hadn’t eaten in countless years.

Until, as promised, his sir called him back to awareness.

But he was still so hungry. Fainting from hunger only to wake starving again; after the worst pangs, it would seem to abate, but then if he let it go on, stomach acid would seem to be burning him from within—torturing, weakening, leaving him trembling.

So, hands shaking, he would write on Sir’s neck, begging him to help find something to eat.

[Not allowed]

[Leave]

[At least one Story Curse every 24 hours]
[Otherwise—I will eat you]
[Don’t leave—not allowed—must try]

The thought of possibly devouring Sir left Bian Xu’s mind blank—he dared not think it through. The mere idea was enough to make his lips tremble uncontrollably for a long time.

Truly, Sir was remarkable. For him, Sir found so many, so many things to eat. With each feeding, his mind grew clearer—he could accompany Sir’s side again, keep doing the right thing.

Si Zhiyan never knew—while feeding the farm and sharing the meal with the vines—just how seriously Bian Xu would taste everything, his cheeks round and full, savoring each bite with happiness.

When the Nightmare Wings came, they were turned into Orleans-style spicy grilled wings—juicy chicken wings so fragrant even the bones were delicious. Sir would make fried chicken: crispy and aromatic, the scent irresistible.
When the Lucky Rabbit’s Foot came, it became lucky rabbit jerky—dry, spicy, crunchy, growing tastier the more he chewed.
Swallowing strange men and jars, Sir turned them into candy jars—tiramisu, sweet and smooth, with a rich aroma of liqueur coffee; he loved it, and Sir loved it too.
The Yin-Yang Pot was a wonder—he preferred honest beef and lamb slices, dipping half a plate at once, cooking to tender perfection in the bubbling pot, then layering with sesame paste and fermented bean curd sauce for a mouthful so satisfying it was beyond words; Sir was more refined, favoring tripe, shrimp paste, and chewy duck intestines, and always needed more dishes prepared for him…

In that pitch-black, hellish world, only the food Sir found for him was ever colorful. It was the only light in his life, the only thing that let him look forward to another tomorrow.

Bian Xu still remembered, before entering the farm, how Sir once stretched lazily at sunset and said:

“The system’s theme is settled. It’ll be the farm. No changes.”

“Eating is humanity’s inborn gift and blessing.”

“After a day’s labor, coming home to a delicious meal, sitting with friends and family, eating snacks, chewing on jerky, catching an episode, opening a game—eating and playing until you’re drowsy, and at last falling into sweet sleep when night deepens…”

“That is the meaning of human life. And the reason the farm exists.”

“—To eat well, to live well.”

Yes. Yes, Bian Xu thought. He closed his eyes, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

Greedily and devotedly he took in Si Zhiyan—the farm’s origin power pouring endlessly from that body.

In the place where Si Zhiyan could no longer hear, the thunder at last died away. The sky gradually cleared.

Blood flowed, silent, only to be licked clean again. The Divine Inspector, detecting that Candidate #2 had lost all vital signs, assumed victory and left.

They had deceived the Divine.

System reports chimed, one after another:

[Consuming… ]

[Ding… Farm integrity increased to 85%… ]
[Ding… Farm integrity increased to 91%… ]
[Ding… Farm integrity increased to 97%… ]

…

[Ding! Farm integrity increased to 100%!]

[Consumption complete… Commencing self-inspection…]

[Detected large-scale terrain damage… Farm undergoing self-repair… ]
[Ding! All facilities fully restored.]

[Farm expansion in progress… 10 acres… 20 acres… 100 acres… ]
[Ding! Farm space has undergone major expansion.]

[Farm existence state is changing… ]
[Ding! The farm can now move within subspace.]

[Farm core being reforged… ]
[Ding! Autonomous core management module is complete.]

[[Former Farm Core—Bian Xu] can now act freely.]