Chapter 6

On the internet, the incident involving Zhu Yongchang continued to escalate, with an increasing number of people discussing it.

As more people joined the discussion, the appearance of the Crimson Moon in this incident gradually became known to those with well-informed sources.

The H Forum has always been the largest paranormal enthusiasts’ forum in Lan Country.

This forum boasts an enormous user base, including not only Awakeners but also many ordinary people.

Driven by their passion for the occult, countless individuals gather here to share and discuss an endless array of mystical knowledge. Even obscure paranormal events can leave traces within its threads.

But today, a new occult incident quietly surfaced.

[Breaking news! A mysterious event called the Crimson Moon has appeared in Taocheng. Rumor has it that Zhu Yongchang, the Contaminant, was eliminated by the Crimson Moon.]

[First comment: I’ve heard about this. They say if you pray to the Crimson Moon, your deepest desire can be fulfilled. But it sounds eerie and completely unrealistic.]

[Second comment: Contaminants have been increasing in Lan Country lately. This is probably just another one in disguise.]

[Third comment: Can it really grant people’s deepest desires?]

After the post appeared, it received only a handful of replies before quickly being buried under the flood of new threads.

Yet, unexpectedly, this post caught the attention of a young girl in Haishi.

The girl was slender and beautiful, but a scar resembling a giant centipede marred her neck, damaging her vocal cords and rendering her mute.

On the paper-thin wall of her room hung an old photograph of herself from three years ago.

In the picture, the girl was vibrant and lively, standing on a stage singing the most enchanting melodies, her face filled with dreams and aspirations for the future.

Now, her voice was gone, her legs broken, and she sat despondently in a wheelchair, her face devoid of hope.

If not for the identical teardrop mole shared by the girl in the photo and the one in the wheelchair, no one would believe they were the same person.

The rain grew heavier, and the dampness made the scar on her neck throb faintly.

Yu Fanlian stared at the post, her eyes brimming with longing.

Could it really grant people’s deepest desires?

She touched her neck and couldn’t help but imagine.

If that were true, could she reclaim what was once hers?

Just a few hundred meters from where the girl lived, a grand charity gala was underway, with all proceeds from the auction to be donated to charitable causes.

“Mrs. Li, isn’t that jewelry the latest SH design? I couldn’t get my hands on it no matter who I asked.”

“If you like it, I can give this SH piece to you. How about that?”

As the guests chatted, their gazes occasionally drifted toward a young woman seated at the center, sipping tea.

She appeared to be around twenty-one, with an exquisitely beautiful face that carried an innate charm, needing no makeup to enhance her natural grace.

In the circles of the wealthy, beauty was not uncommon, but few possessed her unique aura.

And this woman was far more than just her looks.

Her name was Wen Miao, a household name in Haishi with a massive online following and immense popularity.

She was hailed as the prodigy of Haishi, a renowned violinist, pianist, and translator despite being barely in her early twenties.  

Her accolades didn’t end there—she had also won first place in an international ballet competition and entered the top university in Lan Country under the title of Haishi’s top scholar.  

Moreover, whatever she set her mind to learn, she could master in half a month what others might take decades to achieve. She was, without a doubt, a true genius.  

This charity gala was organized by Wen Miao, and everyone was more than willing to indulge her, given that the Wen family controlled Haishi’s largest oil resources.  

After Wen Miao finished her tea, the flattery from the others grew even more sycophantic.  

“I heard Miss Wen recently won first prize in a piano competition again? Truly remarkable.”  

“If only my daughter could be as accomplished as Miss Wen.”  

Meanwhile, outside the charity gala, a boy in a hoodie and baseball cap stood silently in the rain, watching the scene unfold.  

His gaze lingered on the gala, his lips curling into a sneer.  

Why did someone like Wen Miao get to bask in endless glory, while victims like his sister were forced to suffer in the shadows, tormented beyond words?  

How utterly unjust.  

Yu Luo glared at the building in disgust before turning away, letting the rain soak him as he trudged home.  

Quickening his pace, he soon arrived at a filthy alley littered with muddy trash, where occasional hoodlums loitered. This was where the truly impoverished lived.  

At the very end of the alley stood a shabby, dilapidated hut—Yu Luo’s home.  

The alley wasn’t far from the charity gala, just a few streets away, yet it was a chasm that most would never cross in their lifetime.  

Inside that hut lived Yu Fanlian, the woman he had seen mentioned in that online post.  

When Yu Luo returned, Yu Fanlian tried to speak, but the scars on her throat rendered her voice nothing more than a hoarse, desperate cry.  

Yu Luo’s heart ached. “Sister, don’t try to talk. Are you hungry? I brought some congee back.”  

Yu Fanlian shook her head, signaling that she wasn’t hungry and urging Yu Luo to eat instead.  

But he knew the truth—she wasn’t refusing because she wasn’t hungry. She just couldn’t bear to take food from him.  

Tears welled in Yu Luo’s eyes, his hatred for Wen Miao surging to its peak.  

If not for Wen Miao, his sister wouldn’t be like this. She had once had a bright future ahead of her, full of promise and brilliance.  

Three years ago, Yu Fanlian had been a senior at the music conservatory, on the verge of graduation.  

She had always been lively and cheerful, a natural beauty with a radiant spirit.  

Yu Luo had idolized his sister since childhood, yearning to be like her and envying the way she shone in the field she loved.  

But back then, he could never have imagined that the next time he saw Yu Fanlian, she would be left with a ruined voice.  

And the one responsible for such cruelty was none other than Haishi’s illustrious Wen Miao!  

Wen Miao didn’t attend the same school as Yu Fanlian, but somehow, she had heard about Yu Fanlian’s beautiful singing and sought her out.  

Though puzzled, Yu Fanlian was happy to sing for someone who appreciated music, so she performed a song for Wen Miao.

Throughout the entire event, Wen Miao sat silently in the audience, her face hidden in shadow, her expression unreadable.

Only after it ended did Wen Miao sincerely exclaim, “That was beautiful.”

Driven by instinct, Yu Fanlian sensed something was wrong and decided to leave immediately.

But before she could even step out the door, Wen Miao caught her and dragged her back.

Obsessively, Wen Miao caressed Yu Fanlian’s throat, greedily gazing at her lips as if beholding a rare treasure.

What followed was like a nightmare. For some reason, Wen Miao pressed her hand against Yu Fanlian’s body, and excruciating pain, sharp as a blade, sliced through Yu Fanlian’s entire being. By the time Yu Fanlian realized what was happening, she was already collapsed on the ground, her body aching unbearably.

“What did you do?”

The moment she spoke, Yu Fanlian froze. What was this coarse, grating sound? Why had her voice become like this? This wasn’t her voice at all!

“My voice… why has my voice turned like this?”

Yu Fanlian pleaded desperately, over and over, wailing and sobbing like a madwoman.

But Wen Miao, annoyed by the noise, slapped Yu Fanlian hard across the face.

The searing pain forced a scream from Yu Fanlian, yet no matter how she shrieked, Wen Miao didn’t stop. Instead, she slit Yu Fanlian’s throat.

By the time Yu Luo found Yu Fanlian, she was lying in a pool of blood, drenched in crimson.

That once-beautiful sister of his was now a shadow of herself, neither human nor ghost. The wound on her throat left her unable to speak, unable to even cry out her pain and despair.

A month later, the Yu siblings saw Wen Miao on television, participating in a variety show.

Wen Miao was singing, her voice so enchanting that the audience praised her endlessly, calling her a true prodigy, a girl whose singing was nothing short of divine.

But Yu Fanlian recognized it instantly—that voice was eerily similar to her own. The way certain high notes were handled was identical to how she would sing them!

No, it wasn’t just similar. That was her voice. After living with it for over twenty years, how could Yu Fanlian not recognize her own sound?

Wen Miao had stolen her voice and made it her own.

It was then that Yu Fanlian realized the truth: Wen Miao was an Awakener, possessing some ability to strip others of their gifts. She wasn’t a genius at all. Everything she had didn’t belong to her—it was taken, forcibly ripped away from others, just like her voice. Whatever Wen Miao coveted, she could seize.

As unbelievable as it seemed, it had truly happened.

Now, Wen Miao bore countless titles: ballet prodigy, piano virtuoso, violin princess, top scorer in Haishi’s college entrance exams, and many more.

Each title represented someone whose talent or ability had been stolen from them, leaving them to live in despair and anguish.

She was no genius girl. She was a thief.

After learning the truth, Yu Fanlian was consumed by agony. She wanted to reclaim what was rightfully hers, but she couldn’t even get close to Wen Miao.

She went to the police and journalists for help, but they had already been bribed by Wen Miao. Her suffering remained unknown, and though she wanted to accuse Wen Miao, she couldn’t utter a single word, overwhelmed by despair and agony, denied even the chance to refute.  

Later, in her dazed state, Yu Fanlian accidentally fell down the stairs and broke her leg, plunging their already impoverished family deeper into hardship.  

Yu Luo and Yu Fanlian gazed at the charity gala just beyond the wall, their faces twisted in bitter mockery.  

Under the guise of raising funds for the poor, the wealthy indulged in revelry, while those truly in need received nothing. Left to languish in the shadows, enduring the weight of despair and suffering—how laughable it all was.  

At that moment, Yu Luo stood up, his eyes filled with resolve.  

Yu Fanlian seemed to guess his intentions and tried to stop him, but Yu Luo said firmly, “Don’t worry, sis. I’ll be careful.”  

Wen Miao had worn crowns that didn’t belong to her for far too long. It was time to return them.  

In recent days, he had bought a dagger from the black market.  

The dagger was a Contaminant—a C-level Contaminant. Not only was it razor-sharp, but it also enhanced the wielder’s combat abilities.  

In the world of the occult, Contaminants below A-level could sometimes be used, though they exacted a backlash. The more powerful the Contaminant, the harsher the consequences.  

Using this dagger would weaken the wielder and shorten their lifespan.  

But it didn’t matter. As long as he could exact revenge, he was willing to do anything.  

Watching Yu Luo leave with such determination, Yu Fanlian felt a flicker of unease.  

Yet there was nothing she could do now.  

She turned her gaze to the window, where the Crimson Moon hung in the sky, larger than usual.  

At that moment, she recalled the forum posts she had read online.  

Clasping her hands together, she prayed for her brother.  

If the God of the Red Moon truly existed, then please help us—help us reclaim justice, help us take back what is rightfully ours.  

Yu Fanlian prayed for over an hour, but the Crimson Moon remained unchanged.  

Meanwhile, Yu Luo had already slipped into the Wen estate unnoticed.  

Cautiously, he made his way to a side entrance, where a servant quietly opened the door for him.  

This servant, too, harbored deep hatred for Wen Miao.  

The servant’s older brother had once been a top student, destined for the most prestigious university if he performed well in the national college entrance exams.  

But just before the exams, Wen Miao had sought him out. No one knew what transpired between them.  

After Wen Miao left, the brother performed disastrously in the exams, failing to even qualify for an undergraduate program.  

Once the results were out, people began questioning whether his past achievements had been fraudulent—how else could his scores have plummeted so drastically?  

Unable to bear the pressure and ridicule, the brother leaped to his death in despair.  

The very next day, the servant saw news reports celebrating Wen Miao as the top scorer in the city’s exams.  

The servant had heard his brother mention that Wen Miao was a poor student with mediocre grades—how could she have possibly achieved such results?  

Determined to uncover the truth, he changed his identity and took a job at the Wen estate. After three long years as a servant, he finally learned what had happened.  

So when Yu Luo approached him, the servant agreed without hesitation.

The servant handed Yu Luo a set of servant’s clothes. After changing into them, Yu Luo was secretly led into the Wen family mansion.

The servant said, “This is as far as I can help you. Be careful.”

Yu Luo nodded, casting a look of disgust toward Wen Miao inside the room.

Inside, Wen Miao was applying makeup.

Her face was extraordinarily beautiful—every smile could captivate hearts, and her figure was exceptionally graceful. Even just her back view was enchantingly delicate.

Yet none of this rightfully belonged to her.

Yu Luo stared at the ruthless culprit before him, his palms sweating with tension.

He had prepared so much for this day—failure was not an option.

Tonight, he would make Wen Miao return everything she had stolen!