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"Ugh—" Mu Ye'an, caught completely off guard, let out a muffled groan as a flicker of pain cracked his usual indifference. His body instinctively curled forward.
But Ruan Qing didn’t give him a chance to recover.
In one fluid motion, he snatched the knife from Mu Ye'an’s grip, flipped it, and drove the hilt straight into his temple with all his strength.
The temple was a lethal weak point—just as vulnerable as the one below.
The moment the blow landed, Mu Ye'an’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating instantly. Staggered disbelief flashed across his face before his tall frame crumpled to the ground.
The burst of adrenaline left Ruan Qing weak and shaking. His breaths came ragged, fingers tingling with numbness—so much so that the knife slipped from his grasp as he staggered backward, collapsing onto the floor beside it.
Had he used the blade instead of the hilt, it would’ve taken far less force. He wouldn’t even have needed to aim for the temple.
But Ruan Qing had chosen the hilt deliberately.
Not out of reluctance to kill, nor some misplaced kindness.
But because blood would stir the gu worms.
And that was a risk he couldn’t take.
He’d known someone was lurking in that corner long before he passed it. Being taken hostage wasn’t an accident—it was calculated.
There were things he needed to know. Gaps in logic that made no sense. Questions he had no right to ask outright.
Instinct screamed that he and these strangers were the same, even if his memories insisted he’d always belonged to Miao Village.
…No.
He didn’t belong.
Ruan Qing stared down at his trembling hands—shaking from nothing more than exertion—and faced the truth with cold clarity.
Skin this fragile, bruising at the slightest pressure, recoiling from sun or shifts in temperature… Someone like him could never have been raised in the countryside.
And certainly not by a neglectful village head who barely acknowledged him.
The mother in his memories provided just enough food to keep him alive. Nothing more.
Beyond forbidding him from leaving home, she’d been absent in every way.
Under those conditions, his body shouldn’t be this weak. His knowledge, his reasoning—none of it aligned with the upbringing he supposedly had.
His memories were flawed.
At first, he’d suspected he might have been trafficked here. But now…
Things seemed far more complicated than that.
First, there were his blind dates.
The fact that every single one of them was male couldn’t be dismissed as mere coincidence—his mother had deliberately arranged for him to meet men.
But was it really him she intended to matchmake… or herself?
The image of his mother lying in the coffin, clad in red like a bride’s gown, forced his thoughts down a chilling path.
How could a dead woman marry?
The male suitors meant for him, his mother’s crimson burial robes, the sinister talismans hidden beneath his bed—it all pointed to one horrifying possibility.
She wanted… to steal his body.
The idea was absurd, monstrous—but terrifyingly easy to confirm.
If she sought to take his body, she wouldn’t let him die so easily.
The stench of diesel and alcohol had been unmistakable—of course he’d noticed. Yet he’d needed to know for sure, even if the truth was already clear.
When he saw that crimson figure holding up the collapsing beam, his blood turned to ice. Even surrounded by flames, no warmth could reach him.
She truly… intended to possess him.
Even if Miao Ciyu hadn’t come, he wouldn’t have died.
She wouldn’t allow it.
Not until she got what she wanted.
That creeping, ghostly sensation he’d felt wasn’t paranoia—it was her, always watching, always following.
The only times the chill receded were when he was near Miao Ciyu or Miao Li.
He didn’t know whether she disliked them or feared them, but instinct whispered that his survival might hinge on these two men.
Yet survival came at its own price.
The danger they radiated was no less than hers—sometimes worse, a primal dread that even their professed affection couldn’t mask.
Terrifying... yet intoxicating.
While the group questioned Miao Li, Ruan Qing listened carefully—but none of their queries touched on what he needed to know.
Too many questions burned in his mind: What was the purpose of that black dog? Why did it appear every time a villager died? What was it really searching for?
And most crucially—if the gu worms inside a villager’s body escaped after death... what would happen?
This wasn’t idle curiosity. Ruan Qing suspected the gu worm from his mother’s corpse had already left her body.
Aside from the black dog and the gu, Miao Village had no other living creatures—no rats, no snakes, not even worms.
So... what had gnawed through his charging cable?
Yet during the interrogation, he’d been the only one without the right to speak. He hadn’t dared ask, hadn’t dared reveal a hint of his thoughts.
She was watching him.
The slightest misstep could provoke her into attacking.
Suppressing his emotions, Ruan Qing steadied his breathing. Without so much as a glance at the unconscious man—no thought of finishing him off—he turned and walked slowly toward home.
He didn’t believe Miao Li. At the very least, he refused to accept that slaughtering every gu worm was the only way out.
His mother had clearly wanted to escape Miao Village too. Yet she likely hadn’t possessed the power to exterminate all the gu—meaning there had to be another method.
Miao Li claimed the gu couldn’t leave the village... but he’d never said a living person free of gu was similarly bound.
Ruan Qing had been gu-free initially. Yet his mother had gone to elaborate lengths to lure her "blind date candidates" here—proof their presence was key to escaping.
Those candidates couldn’t die. Not until he uncovered the truth.
He wanted out too.
He refused to let his mother steal his body and discard him. Nor would he ally himself with those two dangerous men.
Admittedly, being near them stirred something euphoric in him—but that pleasure came laced with dread, a sickening contradiction.
Clutching his aching chest, Ruan Qing forced the thoughts away.
Even imagining them made his heart convulse, each beat thick with suffocating pain—no normal person would react this way.
The signs all pointed to one truth: The gu was inside him.
And whatever twisted "love" he felt for those men?
That belonged to the gu, not to him.
The gu inside him was different from those in the villagers. Their bodies had long since formed a symbiotic relationship with the gu worms—they were the gu worms now. But he was still, by definition, a living person.
Which meant there was still a chance to rid himself of it.
But Ruan Qing had no intention of removing the gu himself. His mother would take care of it for him.
She was dangerous—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be used.
Survival depended on Miao Li and Miao Ciyu. But if he wanted to leave Miao Village… she was his only hope.
He began walking home, but after only a few steps, he froze.
A man stood at the intersection ahead, watching him.
The man from the lake—the one who had caught him with Miao Ciyu.
He was still alive? Miao Ciyu had chased after him that day…
Ruan Qing didn’t know how much the man had seen—or what he wanted. Clenching his hands inside his sleeves, he pretended not to notice and took a different path.
He never looked back, so he didn’t see the man’s gaze lingering on him until his figure disappeared.
The man seemed… amused.
He walked over to where Mu Ye’an lay, crouched down, and picked up the fallen knife. Then, with a smile, he plunged it into Mu Ye’an’s chest—straight toward the heart.
The brutal pain jolted Mu Ye’an awake. His eyes snapped open, burning with unrestrained killing intent as he seized the man’s wrist, preventing him from pulling the blade out.
The man arched an eyebrow, intrigued. He placed a finger to his lips with his free hand.
"Shh. Relax."
Then he yanked his hand free—and stabbed down again.
Blood gushed from Mu Ye’an’s wounds, soaking his clothes and pooling beneath him. The metallic scent spread quickly, carried by the wind.
Just as the man raised the knife for a third strike, a rustling sound came from nearby. Like something slithering. Or writhing.
The noise was unsettling.
Frowning, the man glanced toward the source.
Gu worms.
The blood had drawn them in.
Mu Ye'an clutched the wound over his heart, as if trying to stem the relentless flow of blood—but it was futile. With great difficulty, he spat out two icy words:
"You... fool."
Gritting his teeth, he tried to push himself up, but the blood loss had sapped his strength. After several failed attempts, he could only turn his gaze toward the other man, forcing out a strained warning:
"He hasn't... gotten far yet..."
The gu worms had come too fast—and in their frenzied state, they moved even more swiftly than before. Whoever had just fled wouldn't stand a chance against their speed.
