Famine 192: Home

He Ming chewed blissfully.

Bite after bite, plate after plate. No longer needing Si Zhiyan or Bian Xu to coax her, she happily devoured whatever she liked, whatever she hadn’t tried before, whatever was distinctive—no matter what kind of dish it was, the black sludge swallowed it up with joy.

The red bean paste was soft and dense, richly delicious; the chocolate box was sweet with an edge of bitterness, its aftertaste subtle and lingering; the shrimp pan-fried buns had a crisp outer layer that burst open to release savory broth; the chilled almond jelly was smooth and cool, topped with fragrant osmanthus honey.

Every single one was delicious. Every single one she adored.

The scene around her began to change without her realizing it.

The black sludge covering sky and earth slowly receded bit by bit, revealing the true form of this room. The blood and flesh, the mire, all those obstacles once impossible to overcome… gradually faded away.

It was an accounting office.

Because the urban legend had been triggered, it was already deep in the night, and darkness alone remained.

Completely unaware, He Ming went on eating and eating, contentedly, until all the food on the floor had been consumed by the black sludge.

The amorphous sludge was half-reclined on the floor, letting out a satisfied belch. Only when she looked up did she suddenly realize—

“Oh, it’s all gone?”

Bian Xu peeked out from behind her, laughing as he patted He Ming’s shoulder. “So convenient! Whenever I run into good food, I always feel like my stomach isn’t big enough. Just two bites of everything and I’m full, but you don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

【……】

The black sludge ballooned, round and taut, a little droplet of confusion falling from it.

“Humans only need 1,500 kilocalories a day to sustain life,” Si Zhiyan said, stretching as he stood on He Ming’s other side. “A sandwich and a cup of coffee for breakfast, two modest bowls of rice with toppings and a little soup for lunch and dinner—that’s plenty.”

“If it’s not enough, add a slice of lemon cake.”

“As a human, your daily purpose in working and foraging is just to acquire those 1,500 calories and eat them up. Achieve that, and you’re a perfectly competent human being.”

“As for everything else—society, family, extra tasks, other people’s expectations… those are just external baggage. If they demand too much and you can’t bear it…”

Si Zhiyan’s voice was earnest as he spoke to He Ming:

“Let them hunt down their own 1,500 calories!”

You shouldn’t casually shoulder burdens that even you can’t bear.

Gurgle. Pop.

A bubble formed on the black sludge, popped with a “pop,” and the whole mass began to sway, as if Si Zhiyan had made it laugh.

Rumble. The room trembled.

Outside the window, a shaft of sunlight gradually pierced the darkness.

The sun was about to rise.

The problems had never disappeared, and no one had ever imagined they would.

But, you could allow yourself to relax for a night, eat something delicious, take a good rest, and face it all again.

Little cakes don’t understand how hard human life can be; cakes are always sweet.

If life deals me pain, my answer is chocolate lava cake, lemon cheesecake, red bean tangyuan, Vietnamese pho, and shrimp pan-fried buns.

……

Sunlight fell across the financial office’s desktop, illuminating a stack of papers.

By the light of dawn, Si Zhiyan walked over and turned them over, revealing contracts and nondisclosure agreements.

Ah.
He Ming had suffered this ordeal because she saw through Boss Yang.

Si Zhiyan’s eyelashes lowered faintly, and he pressed his lips together.

【……It’s not your fault.】

He Ming’s voice suddenly rang out.

Si Zhiyan turned around and saw that He Ming’s form had changed, but she hadn’t reverted to that sweetly smiling, slightly chubby young woman—instead, she’d become a slender, shadowy human shape, her lower half still a mass of mire merging into the floor.

She was half human, half abomination.

【The crowded apartment wasn’t the real world. The people living here, in reality, their stories have long since ended.】

【My parents died years ago. My real boss was a competent and formidable woman. When the catastrophe came, they all died swiftly, never becoming monsters.】

【Boss Yang and I never knew each other in life. He was a failed entrepreneur who hanged himself in a warehouse after his company collapsed.】

He Ming’s sludge clung to the wall, her pitch-black head tilted slightly, as if in a weak smile.

【Something took scraps of our lives, piecing them together into a rubbish heap and stuffing it in here… and that was all.】

【For hundreds, thousands of years, we have suffered the same pain again and again, forced to walk the same inevitable loop.】

【…Until today.】

【Thank you, sir. The lemon cheesecake… was wonderful.】

Drip.

A drop of black sludge, like a tear, fell to the floor.

【If only I could have met you sooner…】

……

As time passed, the darkness around He Ming slowly faded.

“…What will you do next?” Si Zhiyan asked.

【…】He Ming squirmed a moment. 【I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just disappear. After all… there’s really no place for me here.】

She gave a bitter smile.

Dense apartment buildings are a part of the great city, too.

The pain… is never truly solved.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Si Zhiyan beckoned her—“Come, follow me.”

They crowded into an old elevator and rode upward, and up.

The crowded apartments were conceptual—they stretched upward and outward without end. At last, the elevator stopped with a ding somewhere above the fortieth floor.

Si Zhiyan stepped into the corridor and stopped at 4001. The front door was obviously specially designed, twice as wide as the others; it looked more like a vault than a steel security door.

Click.
Si Zhiyan opened the door.

Before them was a world like a hotel hallway, full of doors and little cracks, each one leading to a different little room.

He led her through the cracks. After a moment of squeezing through, everything opened up before their eyes.

—It was a beautiful two-story studio apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at rolling green hills, all decorated in a simple Nordic style.

There was a living and dining room, a kitchen fully equipped with pots and pans, a bathroom with a tub for one.

The bed was on the mezzanine; the mattress was soft, the bedding carried the scent of sunshine-washed cotton, and if you looked up, you could see the mountain scenery.

Spacious, tidy, bright, and beautiful.

Just like…

The future she had dreamed about, lying alone in her narrow rented bedroom, on countless nights.

He Ming’s black sludge surged with excitement.

【I—I could never afford this…】

Si Zhiyan smiled: “No need to buy. This is the farm apartment’s placement residence. From now on, it’s yours.”

【How long can I stay?】

Si Zhiyan said, “Forever.”

In the sunlight, the young man in black gazed at her gently, stating calmly, “This entire apartment outside was a property I bought through Aunt Zhou the agent. There’s no rent, no lease expiration, no chance of repossession. You can live here, always, as long as you wish.”

“It may be a bit late to say this, but…”

Si Zhiyan sighed softly.

“…Welcome home.”

“You have a home now, Miss He.”

Whumm!

With a boil, the black sludge peeled away bit by bit from He Ming, revealing a young woman’s pale face.

Her lips trembled, tears streaming down in succession. She looked at Si Zhiyan and, with all her strength, managed to draw a difficult, radiant smile.

【…Thank you.】

Lie in your very own house, take some time to recover from everything, then look for a new job.

In idle hours, experiment with recipes, cook familiar homestyle dishes; if there’s time, sit in a café and enjoy cheap, tasty desserts; burn a stick of incense for your parents, accept what’s gone and move forward, dry your tears and keep going…

A life that isn’t perfect still has its resilience.

Dreams and the future may be distant, but day by day, there are always gentle, happy little certainties to support He Ming—just enough to get through today, and then another.

Drip.

Along with her tears, a small black hole crystal—spit out by the Frosthorn Rabbit—fell to the floor.

The third crystal, belonging to He Ming’s [Recognition], had been earned.

Bian Xu picked up the black hole gem, held it in his palm, looked down at it for a while, then blinked and veiled his gaze.

He smiled as if nothing had ever happened, eyes flicking as though quietly pondering something.

Si Zhiyan turned his head, looking into his eyes.

After a while, he smiled faintly, saying nothing at all.

……

With He Ming left behind to pack up, Bian Xu rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

Bian Xu hadn’t been able to stand that bald-headed Boss Yang for a long while. As soon as space-time order was restored, he kicked in the door of the advertising company’s office.

His vine branches lashed about, pointing to a system interface invisible to ordinary people, reciting a precise rundown of the company’s current operations, even the petty cash to the cent.

Boss Yang was so terrified his legs shook, nearly bursting into tears.

Then, Bian Xu grabbed Yang’s collar and dragged him before He Ming, forcing him to apologize:

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was wrong before, I was too hasty…”

A vine pressed to Yang’s temple. He was on the verge of weeping as he stammered in terror:

“It’s all my fault… You can come back to work tomorrow…”

The tip of Bian Xu’s vine prodded him, a murderous look in his golden eyes: “Who’d want to work for someone like you?”

“Eek!!” Boss Yang nearly fainted. “If you won’t, then I’ll pay compensation, I’ll pay! Double your wages—no, wait, don’t look at me like that, four times! It’s my fault, I was wrong!”

【—So you do know!!!】

He Ming felt a rush of pleasure down to her scalp, hurling a cup of coffee straight onto Yang’s bald head while cursing him out:

【I told you, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, but you just wouldn’t listen!】

【Throwing folders at people, too! What a nutcase! Think you’re some superhero? Who do you think you are, just for working a job!】

Then… it turned into a chaotic, raucous brawl…

After a fierce round of dodgeball, hockey, and moving-target boxing, they both ended up standing on Yang’s back, catching their breath in companionable silence.

He Ming poured Bian Xu a cup of milk tea in thanks.

As she thanked him, she sighed:
【Really, thinking back on everything, being trapped in the cycle doesn’t seem all that important anymore…】

Bruised and battered, Boss Yang whimpered, “…Can you get off me before you say that?”

“No way,” Bian Xu said seriously. “It’s your business if you let it go, but if he did something wrong, he must make amends and show remorse!”

So particular—almost endearing.

Si Zhiyan smiled and ruffled Bian Xu’s hair. He Ming laughed as well, and as she laughed, she wiped away her tears and said thank you, over and over.

In the peaceful, happy atmosphere, only Boss Yang looked on the verge of tears—How long are you going to keep me pinned here, ahhhh!!

…………
……

That night.

The apartment bedroom was small but beautifully arranged, with a warm yellow floor lamp and a deep gray shag rug, and a wooden double bed by the window with wooden blinds.

After washing up, Si Zhiyan changed into a pure white bathrobe, water dripping from his hair as he leaned against the headboard.

The robe hung loose and comfortable, parting to reveal a hint of his collarbone, still damp from the shower.

Si Zhiyan made himself a cup of coffee and began to reflect on the day’s events.

This time, the most important thing he’d gained was a complete grasp of what the [Apartment of Those Without Fate] really meant.

In the dense city apartments lived one after another of people who didn’t belong—this was their endpoint.

So, if that ending could be overturned, everything else would fall into place.

A few days before, Si Zhiyan had asked Agent Zhou about apartment prices, then pooled his wages and royalties accumulated over many days and put down a deposit on a unit.

Gu Ying always had inhuman speed at producing blueprints. After adapting to interior design, her speed set fresh records.

With her help, Si Zhiyan’s renovations progressed rapidly.

That single unit in the dense apartments could provide entry portals to dozens of farm apartments.

Thanks to the farm apartments’ special spatial attributes, each room had ample space, good light, kitchen, bath, living and sleeping areas—no noise, no troublesome neighbors.

Every apartment was more than a room; it was like a small community.

With He Ming’s case as a good start, the rest would proceed smoothly.

Soon, more urban legends would likely move in.

Collecting 500 recognition crystals was now just a matter of time.

The first [Consonance] event should be achieved very soon.

The new [Seed of Famine (Embryo Version)] should be within reach.

And in the farm, once he cultivated a world sapling, he could unlock training for the world of imagination.

Maybe then, he could finally meet the Priest of the Imagination World.

Si Zhiyan pressed his brow.

He had great respect for this senior figure who had always supported him.
But, more important than anything, was a vital, crucial conjecture he had to confirm with the Priest.

If that guess could be confirmed, then Si Zhiyan might just have a means…

To drag the Main God down from that unattainable height.

To end this famine game.

The thought left Si Zhiyan unconsciously holding his breath.

As he pondered, his mind drifted.

……

“…Haah…”

He didn’t know how long had passed when suddenly, a stifled, wet gasp sounded from the bedside, snapping Si Zhiyan from his thoughts.

He jolted in alarm and checked the clock—

Eight hours had gone by.

No… even more.

Ten hours and twelve minutes had passed since Bian Xu had last taken his flesh and blood.

“……”

Bian Xu hadn’t dared get into bed. Dressed in only a thin underlayer, he was curled up on the rug by the bed, head bowed, blond hair tousled.

Cold sweat had soaked his back; Bian Xu chewed his lip, clutching his own arms so hard his nails dug into flesh, shivering and struggling to control his breathing.

—In those hours that Si Zhiyan had been lost in thought, Bian Xu hadn’t uttered a word.

The truth was, he’d already hit his limit, on the verge of collapse, before that desperate gasp finally escaped him.

At once, Si Zhiyan rolled over and pulled Bian Xu close. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bian Xu’s golden eyes were already glazed with tears, his consciousness visibly fading.

He lifted his head slowly, nestling against Si Zhiyan’s leg, seeking—through a thin layer of fabric—a little of his teacher’s warmth.

Forcing a radiant but strained smile, he whispered, “I… I’m fine, sir… Did you figure out the answer?”

“……”

Si Zhiyan’s eyes darkened heavily.

He slid his hand down, pressing over Bian Xu’s bloodied arm.

At the feel of exposed flesh, Bian Xu shuddered instinctively.

But he forced himself to relax quickly.

Si Zhiyan took hold of Bian Xu’s wound, grasping tightly. “You’re fine?”

Blood trickled down his long fingers, staining his hand red.

“…Nn…!”

Bian Xu trembled uncontrollably.

Still leaning his head on Si Zhiyan’s leg, his golden eyes dazed, lost, and full of deep grievance.

His lips parted, the bitten flesh trembling, but he pressed them closed again and shook his head.

…Just like a golden retriever, suddenly and wrongfully scolded by its favorite person.

At last, Si Zhiyan couldn’t bear it.

He released Bian Xu’s wound, grasped his hand, and yanked him up onto the bed.

Caught off guard and with no will to resist, Bian Xu toppled onto the mattress. Before he could gather himself from amidst the pillows, Si Zhiyan was on top of him, pressing him down by the shoulders.

In the dim yellow lamp light, Bian Xu’s pupils contracted to pinpricks. He watched wide-eyed as his teacher—

Pressed his shoulders down, then slowly straddled his waist.

Si Zhiyan’s fingertips were cool as he knelt above Bian Xu’s abdomen, pressed a hand to his burning chest, and leaned in.

Red eyes fixed on Bian Xu’s, he asked again, gently, softly, “…Are you really fine?”

Bian Xu began to shake.

That was a demon’s weight, dense and pressing. Through the thin layer of the robe, he could distinctly feel contact—Si Zhiyan’s body, both gentle and unyielding.

Bian Xu was burning up. The heat inside him was searing, nearly enough to scorch.

But his teacher’s touch was cool.

Like ice, but carrying all that familiar tenderness, flowing over Bian Xu’s fevered skin, tormenting him to the brink of madness.

Si Zhiyan was relentless. “Speak.”

“…I, I…”

Bian Xu’s voice was hoarse, ragged, nearly biting his tongue.

He could feel himself about to burn up.

His mentor was so slender; from the loosely parted neckline of his robe, pale neck, collarbones, and even lower were exposed…

Beneath the skin, scorching blood pulsed.

“……”

Bian Xu was barely able to speak, his lips trembling harder and harder.

His eyes were fixed intently on Si Zhiyan’s throat, as if trying to burn through it, on the verge of breakdown.

“You’re not fine.”

Si Zhiyan’s tone was soft, filtered by a ghostly haze, as if whispering devilish incantations.
His cool, damp fingertips pressed to Bian Xu’s lips, and with gentle clarity, he whispered, words striking Bian Xu’s eardrums with shocking precision:

“Tell me—what do you want?”