Chapter 2: Mutter

The faint, indistinguishable fragrance lingered in his nostrils, as if the mucilage were overflowing from his trembling fingers, spreading over his palm and flowing upward.

No, he was falling.

Falling into the dark, condensed swamp, where the air had turned into mud and was engulfing him.

In this extremely chaotic perception, Ming Ci couldn’t measure time, feeling as though only a brief second had passed, yet it seemed like a long hour.

It wasn’t until footsteps echoed in the stairwell, and a beam of flashlight cast obliquely onto him, that he snapped out of the eerie confusion.

“Who’s there?” The early-rising woman was startled, her tone nervous. “Who’s lying there?”

Ming Ci grasped the stair railing, slowly pulling himself up.

His sense of touch, hearing, and smell had all returned to normal. The cement steps were cold and hard, but he didn’t seem to have injured himself; there was no pain, at least not for the moment.

Ming Ci looked up, the light shining on his face, which was pale without a hint of color.

“Aunt Chen, it’s Ming Ci,” he said weakly.

“Oh, Ming Ci, scared me to death,” the woman, Chen Xiu, sighed in relief, quickly descending the stairs to scrutinize him. “What are you doing lying on the stairs at this hour? Is something wrong at home? Did your father come back?”

Chen Xiu knew about Ming’s family situation. When Ming Ci’s mother was alive, they often helped each other out, both being close neighbors and friends.

“He’s not at home. I was just looking for my cat, Xiao Mi. She got lost.”

Ming Ci politely replied, “If you see her, please let me know. Thank you, Aunt Chen.”

“Xiao Mi got lost? Okay, if I see her, I’ll definitely tell you. But you shouldn’t stay up all night looking for a cat. Look at your complexion, so pale!”

With that, Chen Xiu turned around to get some food from the breakfast cart. She sold various grain Chinese crepes and eight-treasure porridge every day. Since she hadn’t started cooking yet, only the cupped porridge was available for direct consumption.

“You didn’t eat dinner last night, did you?” She handed him a cup of eight-treasure congee. “Young people shouldn’t skip meals just because they’re healthy. Look at how thin you’ve become.”

Ming Ci immediately declined, “No, thank you, Aunt Chen, I’ve already eaten.”

Chen Xiu forcefully stuffed the congee into his hand. “Take it! I’m going out to set up my stall. Drink the congee and go home to sleep.”

“…Thank you.”

Ming Ci stiffly thanked her, watching as she pushed the cart into the elevator.

The eight-treasure congee was steaming hot, making Ming Ci’s palms sweat. He wandered back home like a lost soul, feeling indebted. All he could think about was how to repay Chen Xiu for the congee.

Returning it to her would definitely lead to her nagging him, just the thought of it made his scalp tingle.

Perhaps… tomorrow morning, he could slip out of the community through the east gate, quietly scan the QR code posted on the breakfast cart, and pay her back.

With this thought in mind, Ming Ci breathed a sigh of relief, finally able to rest without guilt.

When he woke up, it was already afternoon.

The slanting sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a bright beam on the old brown wooden floor.

Ming Ci reached for his phone, lighting up the screen. The lock screen showed 14:22, August 13th.

There were still over ten days left until the university registration date.

Ming Ci opened his mobile banking app and checked his balance carefully.

He had performed well in the college entrance examination, and the school had awarded him a certificate of honor and a bonus of 20,000 yuan. The bonus had already been deposited into his account, so he didn’t need to worry about tuition and living expenses for his freshman year.

In addition to this bank card, he had another account where he had saved money from part-time odd jobs during holidays. It was meager, with money coming in and going out sporadically, leaving him with just over 1,000 yuan.

This was how he had been getting by for the past two years, never relying on anyone and not needing charity.

Like an orchid uprooted from a garden and transplanted into the wilderness, he still managed to thrive.

Ming Ci’s stomach grumbled from missing two meals.

The instant noodles and eggs he had bought earlier were finished last night. Now, the only food left at home was Xiao Mi’s cat food and the cup of eight-treasure congee given by Chen Xiu.

He wasn’t stubborn enough to resort to eating cat food, and besides, it wasn’t right to take things that didn’t belong to him.

Ming Ci tore off the plastic seal and drank the congee in big gulps.

The grains of rice, red dates, and various beans in the eight-treasure congee had all melted together, thick and sweet. Despite sitting for most of the day, it was still warm.

Ming Ci didn’t think much of it, assuming that the weather was hot, so the congee took longer to cool down.

When there was only a mouthful or two left, he glanced at the plastic tub containing cat food, thinking that he would have to go out later to look for the cat, hoping that Xiao Mi hadn’t run out of the neighborhood.

In the split second that he averted his gaze, the remaining deep red congee in the cup wriggled slightly.

【Ming, Ci.】

【Mine, Ming Ci… Feed.】

Ming Ci absentmindedly finished the last sip, completely unaware of something sliding down his throat and into his stomach.

He tossed the empty plastic cup into the trash and left the house.

Several hours passed, the sun set, and dusk fell.

The sky darkened, and the streetlights in the neighborhood hadn’t turned on yet. The green bushes were dark, and the gray-black tabby cat hid within them, almost unnoticed by Ming Ci.

He squatted by the edge of the bushes, opened a can of cat food, and carefully pushed it inside.

“Xiao Mi, come here, come and eat the canned food.”

Xiao Mi crouched deep in the bushes, watching him warily.

Ming Ci softened his voice and patiently called out, “Xiao Mi, come here, smell this, it’s your favorite canned food, Xiao Mi.”

After waiting for a few minutes, Xiao Mi, probably too hungry to resist, took a step forward.

“Xiao Mi.”

He kept his hand outstretched, waiting for it to come over and sniff to recognize.

Xiao Mi approached tentatively, its eyes never leaving his face. When it reached him, it lowered its head and started to eat the canned food, paying no attention to anything else.

Ming Ci held his breath, wanting to pet it, but it suddenly backed away, as if encountering a mortal enemy, its fur bristling all over, tail tightly tucked between its hind legs.

“Xiao Mi?” Ming Ci didn’t understand why it was resisting like this. He leaned forward, wanting to grab it, “Xiao Mi, it’s me, don’t you recognize me?”

As long as he didn’t move, Xiao Mi seemed less frightened. But the moment he moved, Xiao Mi became more terrified, snarling and screaming, then turning and running away.

“…”

Ming Ci pressed his lips together, watching it disappear, and remained squatting in place for a long time without moving.

What was going on?

Did running out of the house for over ten hours turn it into a stray cat, completely forgetting its owner?

Ming Ci returned home with a heavy heart and turned on the tap to wash his hands.

The bandage on the back of his hand was covered in dirt, and it got dirtier when wet, needing to be replaced.

The moment he peeled off the bandage, he froze.

The wound was gone.

The place where he had been scratched last night was completely unharmed, clean and without a trace of blood.

“How is this possible?” Ming Ci couldn’t believe his eyes, repeatedly checking his left hand, “How could it heal so quickly…”

No matter how he looked at it or touched it, he couldn’t find any trace of the wound. And the used bandage, the side that had been stuck to his flesh, also had no traces of blood.

Under the bright light, everything was clear, nothing could hide.

Ming Ci couldn’t believe it, his mind was a bit confused for a while, and he couldn’t help but suspect if he had been half asleep last night, and Xiao Mi hadn’t scratched him at all.

No, that’s not it.

That’s not it, that’s not it. He distinctly remembered the swollen, bleeding wound, the itching and pain after wiping it with alcohol, which kept him awake all night.

With that in mind, Ming Ci lowered his gaze to the trash can, where yesterday’s garbage had yet to be thrown out.

Plop!

Everything in the garbage bag spilled out, and two blood-soaked cotton balls were exposed to Ming Ci’s sight.

He pinched the cotton balls, and his pupils slightly contracted.

Sure enough, he hadn’t remembered wrong; he had indeed been scratched.

However, just a day later, the wound on the back of his hand had miraculously healed, without leaving a trace of a scar.

This was too bizarre. Ming Ci didn’t feel the excitement of discovering he might have a rapid healing ability like the protagonists in novels or movies. Instead, he felt as if some unknown strangeness was quietly infiltrating his world.

In the silence, a chilling sensation crawled up his spine, causing Ming Ci to shiver involuntarily, as if shocked, he tossed the bloodstained cotton balls away.

“…”

He took a silent breath, forcibly calming himself down, and raised his eyes to gaze at the reflection of his face in the mirror, a pressing thought emerging in his mind.

He wanted to try.

To see if he really could heal rapidly.

Half a minute later, Ming Ci stood in front of the bathroom mirror, holding a shiny, reflective fruit knife.

He had originally planned to casually make a cut on the back of his hand, but as he was about to do so, he glanced at the shadow cast by the blade and suddenly changed his mind.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he opened his collar, revealing the pale skin of his collarbone where a striking red mole was imprinted.

Ming Ci knew he was being impulsive; there were many blood vessels near the collarbone, and he might accidentally pierce an artery.

But as he looked at the red mole, he couldn’t suppress the urge that stirred within him.

The sharp blade pressed against the skin, aiming at the red mole. He had to be quick, no hesitations—swiftly and lightly, he sliced!

“Ah—”

Ming Ci instinctively cried out in pain, immediately biting down hard on his lip.

It was his first time doing something like this, and he hadn’t gauged the force properly. The blade swept down over the collarbone, cutting off a large piece of skin, and warm blood flowed all over his hand.

Perhaps due to being too nervous, his heart was pounding erratically, and he felt dizzy. Amidst the intense ringing in his ears, he experienced auditory hallucinations.

“Ming Ci, Ming Ci…”

The ethereal and blurry voice seemed to come from nowhere, softly falling into his ears.

Clang!

The fruit knife slipped from Ming Ci’s hand to the ground.

With one hand pressing against the exposed wound, the other hand was placed on the edge of the sink.

Crimson blood seeped through his fingers, dripping into the porcelain-white sink, splattering a few drops of blood onto the mirror. Blood droplets slowly descended, reflecting his face with streaks of blood on the mirror.

“…Ming Ci…”

As if whispering in his ear, a long and moist tongue extended into the ear canal, licking the sensitive auditory nerves, murmuring softly.

Repeatedly, his name was called out in an eerie tone.

For a moment, Ming Ci felt dazed, then abruptly awakened by a strong sense of pain.

The auditory hallucination quietly disappeared, leaving him with a cold sweat on his back, dark and wet eyebrows and eyes, cheeks as pale as snow, and lips swollen from biting.

He looked terrible.

Especially with his white clothes stained red with blood and his hands covered in blood, as if he had experienced something dreadful.

Gritting his teeth, taking deep breaths, Ming Ci discarded the bloody flesh, removed his dirty clothes, and first disinfected and bandaged the wound on his chest.

Then he turned on the faucet, washing his hands and clothes, tidying up the messy scene.

By the time Ming Ci finished busying himself, it was around nine o’clock at night.

He wasn’t in the mood to cook dinner, so he went to a nearby convenience store and bought a boxed meal, finishing it in a few minutes.

Returning home, he avoided the wound and took a quick shower before lying on the bed, lost in thought.

There was a faint smell of blood and alcohol in the air, and the burning pain from the wound made it difficult to fall asleep.

He had really been impulsive.

If it weren’t for the unusual rapid healing, the wound might have become infected and worsened, requiring a trip to the hospital.

But at least there was no longer that troublesome red mole.

Ming Ci silently pondered, closing his eyes without a sound.

In the darkness, he was unaware of the tiny red dot in the palm of his hand, slowly moving.

From his palm, to his arm, then to his shoulder, and finally back to his chest, it nestled within the flesh.

“Don’t… abandon… me.”

The electric fan emitted a faint hum, the sound of chairs being dragged upstairs echoed from the ceiling, and there were also car horns outside the residential area.

However, these fragmented background noises seemed to be erased, leaving only the lingering and sticky whispers becoming clearer.

“Ming Ci…”

Like an omnipresent liquid, it flowed into his body through his ear canal, coursing through every delicate blood vessel.

Ming Ci’s breath became rapid, and he abruptly opened his eyes.

TN:

杂粮煎饼 – za liang jiang bi

*八宝粥 – 8 Treasure Rice Congee is commonly eaten during the 8th day of the 12th lunar month, or better known as the coldest day of the year, to celebrate the Laba Festival. It’s called “8 Treasure Congee” because of the 8 types of ingredients that go into it: black rice, glutinous rice, barley, kidney bean, red bean, mung bean, Chinese dates, lotus seeds, peanuts and longan