Shen Li had passed out cold.
Her breath ca in shallow, uneven gasps, but her pulse was steady. Qingran hovered over her a mont longer, double-checking for any remaining contamination. Satisfied, she summoned a clean cloth, warm water, and antiseptic from her space.
Carefully, she cleaned the wound again.
It was deep but no longer bleeding, and most importantly—it no longer moved.
The skin around it was raw, inflad with the remnants of the parasite’s grip. Qingran applied a salve to reduce infection, then began bandaging her up tightly, wrapping gauze from shoulder to lower back.
"I’m sorry you had to go through that," she whispered.
When she finished, she dressed Shen Li in clean clothes from her pack, carefully guiding her limp arms through the sleeves. The girl stirred faintly, murmuring incoherently, but didn’t wake.
Qingran brushed a hand gently across her forehead, smoothing the tangled strands of hair back.
Then she stood.
She wasn’t done.
Not by a long shot.
She strode to the door and stepped into the corridor, where Yu Song was still lingering, tense, waiting. He opened his mouth to speak, but Qingran cut him off.
"Go to Fang Yuxi," she said. "Tell her to co now. I need soone I trust to watch Shen Li."
Yu Song blinked. "Is she—"
"She’s resting. Just bring Fang here."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned down the corridor.
Her boots echoed sharply off the concrete floor.
She didn’t look back.
She didn’t need to.
Ten minutes later, after seeing Fang enter the room with a solemn nod and taking a mont to thank her with a tight grip of the shoulder, Qingran walked through the second sub-level, stopping in front of the steel-plated maintenance door.
Ruihuang stood posted nearby, arms folded.
He raised a brow when he saw her coming.
"I hope you’re not planning to—"
"I am."
"Qingran..."
"Don’t follow," she said, voice cold as a glacier. "Don’t co near the door. I’m going to end this matter once and for all."
Ruihuang’s mouth tightened. He said nothing. Only stepped back.
She pushed the door open and shut it behind her.
The slam echoed in the stillness of the room.
Inside, Wei Sheng sat slumped against the wall. The shadows stretched long around him, and though his head was tilted, he looked up the mont she entered.
The smugness was gone.
His face was pale, eyes red-rimd.
For a heartbeat, he looked like himself again. Like a boy who’d just crawled out of a nightmare.
"Q-Qingran...?"
She didn’t answer.
She strode straight up to him and grabbed him by the neck, slamming him against the wall with a force that cracked the plaster behind his head.
"Who sent you here?" she demanded.
His eyes widened. "W-What—? I don’t—"
"Don’t play dumb!" she snapped. "I’m not asking you. I’m asking the thing inside your skull. The one that wants Shen Li’s blood."
He trembled, panic flashing across his face. "I don’t know what you’re talking about! I swear—!"
The first punch landed clean across his jaw.
He gasped.
The second caught his ribs, and the third cracked his nose.
Blood spattered the wall, his mouth, the floor.
She didn’t stop.
Qingran beat him down like the weight of the last week was carved into every strike. The betrayal. The near-deaths. The bodies in the sealed room. Shen Li’s screams.
By the ti she finally paused, her hands were soaked, her breaths heaving.
He coughed wetly, blood trailing down his chin.
But her hands didn’t shake.
She grabbed his shirt, dragged his head up to et her eyes.
"I’m fucking asking the voice in your head," she hissed. "Why are you here? What do you want?"
He didn’t speak.
She backhanded him.
"You’re just a puppet. A shell. And you do not get to hurt one of mine. If you want to suffer every day, by all ans—keep playing dumb. But if you value what little life you’ve got left..."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"...then you better start talking."
Silence.
Then he laughed.
Not a broken one.
Not like earlier.
It was calm.
Controlled.
Confident.
The laughter of sothing old.
He tilted his head, blood dripping from his temple.
And then he spoke.
"Fine. I’ll talk."
Qingran froze.
There was a shift. A glide in the voice. It no longer sounded like Wei Sheng.
"Gu Qingran," the thing said, smiling now. "I’m surprised you haven’t rembered who I am by now. After all... how could you forget your dear friend..."
A pause.
A grin that split across his bloodied face.
"Boran."
Qingran froze.
The na echoed inside her skull like a scream inside a cavern. Her breath stilled. Her fingers clenched, still gripping the front of Wei Sheng’s bloodied shirt.
That na.
That damn na.
Her heartbeat was no longer her own, it thundered with soone else’s fury, soone else’s pain.
Boran.
The bastard who haunted her worst years. The kind of man who didn’t leave wounds, only rot. Who didn’t stab you once... no. He’d bleed you over months, years. Soft smiles, soft lies, a touch on the shoulder, a whisper in the dark.
Then silence....
Then ruin....
Qingran’s grip tightened.
"You.." she breathed.
Her voice dropped into a dangerous stillness, a calm only because she had no space for anything else.
"You."
Wei Sheng...no, Boran... grinned at her, teeth bright against the blood streaming down his face. "Took you long enough."
She slamd him back against the wall again, this ti letting her aura bleed out from her skin. The air itself shimred, temperature dropping like a sudden storm.
Wei Sheng gasped, breath catching in his throat.
"How could you do this to ?! I trusted you! You bastard! I trusted you and you fucking killed , you fucking killed ! After I risked by life to save you! How could you be so wicked, how did I not see through your lies, how did I ever liked a monster like you.."
Wei Sheng smiled.
"Tough luck baby, you look like you’re about to cry.."
Reviews
All reviews (0)