Chapter 21: Impulse

It’s not an illusion, the monster really isn’t dead!

Ming Ci leaned in close to the mirror, turning his head, trying to find the red mole on his neck, but the skin there was pale and flawless, with no trace of it.

This just confirmed his speculation.

Perhaps it was immortal, perhaps it had returned from the ashes, but whatever the case, the monster hadn’t disappeared; it was now hidden inside him, quietly observing everything.

Ming Ci found it hard to describe his feelings at this moment. His heart was pounding uncontrollably, his cheeks flushed red, his mind in turmoil.

Memories from the past flooded his mind, the various forms it had taken, its terrifying original shape, its clumsy and laughable words… its desperate cries for help.

After being tamed, deceived, and burned, the monster had returned.

Ming Ci raised his clenched fist, teeth biting into the back of his hand, struggling to restrain his precarious emotions.

What should he do now?

The monster probably wouldn’t trust him anymore, avoiding him and refusing to respond.

He had to do something, he couldn’t just wait like this, he had to…

“Ming Ci, are you okay? I need to use the…”

Miao Nianchun’s voice abruptly stopped as he stood at the door of the bathroom, staring at Ming Ci in astonishment.

Ming Ci’s current demeanor was completely different from before, the heavy and indifferent aura gone.

His eyes were startlingly bright, as if containing a burning flame within them. When their gazes met, Miao Nianchun felt as if he were being scorched.

It was almost like a beast ready to pounce, a monster.

For a moment, Miao Nianchun even had the absurd thought that the slender and handsome young man before him had taken some sort of stimulant.

Miao Nianchun subconsciously took a step back, swallowing nervously, and tentatively asked, “Ming Ci, what’s wrong with you?”

“…”

Ming Ci released his grip on his hand, instead covering half of his face, breathing heavily.

Then, he slowly lowered his hand, a distinct curve appearing at the corner of his lips, and he actually smiled.

“I’m fine, just encountered something unexpected, feeling a bit… nervous.”

His eyes sparkled in the light, his smile carrying an indescribable flavor.

“Nervous? It looks more like excitement,” Miao Nianchun silently thought.

As Ming Ci spoke, he walked out of the bathroom, tilting his head at Miao Nianchun, “Sorry, are you going to use the bathroom?”

Miao Nianchun, as if in a trance, replied dumbly, “Uh, yeah, I am.”

Ming Ci withdrew his gaze, picked up his backpack, and headed towards the door. “I’ll be out for a bit.”

“Wait,” Miao Nianchun snapped out of his daze, shouting after him, “Are you coming back to the dorm tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Huh? You don’t know?” Miao Nianchun rushed out the door, only to see him entering the elevator without a glance back.

The silver-gray metal doors slid open, and Ming Ci stepped out of the elevator, leaving the dormitory building. He walked swiftly, passing through the bustling food street, heading towards the forest shrouded in night.

Near Nanzhou University, there was a small hill of over two hundred meters, serene and beautiful, lush with greenery. During the day, it was filled with students, but at night, the entrance gates to the mountain path were tightly locked, and not a soul could be seen.

Apart from the official mountain road, there were indeed steep wild paths on the side.

Under the moonlight, a sign with blue letters on a white background was clearly visible: “Dangerous Area, No Climbing Allowed.”

Ignoring the sign, Ming Ci grabbed onto the slanting vines, struggled to lift his legs, and climbed up the wild path.

In the dim and deep forest, the noisy chirping of insects intertwined, and besides that, there was only the sound of his own messy footsteps.

About twenty minutes later, Ming Ci stopped in the depths of the dense woods.

The light was faint, the night was thick, and the surroundings were so dark that nothing could be seen.

In the darkness, he leaned against a tree trunk, panting heavily. His body was hot from the intense activity, even his breath felt scorching.

Surely his blood must smell even more enticing now.

Ming Ci took out his phone and turned on the flashlight, illuminating the small area in front of him. Then he unzipped his backpack and took out a small craft knife.

With a gentle push of his finger, the shiny blade emerged, reflecting his pitch-black shiny eyes.

“Xiao Hong, are you watching me?”

His voice sounded urgent, with a slight tremor, “Is my blood very fragrant? Do you want to eat it?”

The thin and sharp blade pressed against his arm, about to cut through the skin, but suddenly, the surroundings fell into silence.

The chirping of insects disappeared, and there was complete silence.

Ming Ci paused, suddenly realizing something, about to turn his head, when a dense shadow enveloped him first.

He was tackled to the ground, his phone and craft knife slipping from his grasp, falling into the thick layer of dry leaves. The flashlight of his phone was covered, plunging the surroundings back into darkness.

In the pitch-blackness, his hearing and sense of touch became more acute in a state akin to blindness. He felt as though he had fallen into a damp, viscous swamp, where warm and slippery things wriggled against his skin, gradually creeping towards his neck.

“Xiao Hong.”

Ming Ci called out softly.

The soft thing paused slightly, then gently enveloped his cheek.

Ming Ci had thought he would be too frightened to speak at this moment, yet now that it had come to it, his brain was overrun by impulsive emotions. He forgot about fear; there was no shrinking back or avoidance. Instead, he lifted his head.

“What do you want to do? Do you want to devour me?”

Ming Ci’s voice was incredibly clear in the silence. “Xiao Hong, are you seeking revenge on me?”

In truth, he shouldn’t have asked such a question. If the monster was truly seeking revenge, asking like this would only puncture the illusion of peace and make the situation worse.

But the impulsive emotions surged like tidal waves, overwhelming his thoughts and crushing his rationality, leaving him unable to restrain his words and actions.

The darkness didn’t affect the monster’s vision; it remained silent, staring fixedly at Ming Ci’s face, its dark and intense emotions roiling like magma.

For a moment, paranoid and fervent thoughts almost overwhelmed everything else. It wanted to completely swallow up this human before it, making him a part of itself.

In doing so, it would achieve an eternal and unchanging union, satisfying its endless desires.

“After being burnt in the fire, can’t you speak anymore, Xiao Hong?”

Before Ming Ci could finish speaking, his lips were covered by the slick and soft appendage.

Then, without hesitation, this appendage ruthlessly invaded his mouth, greedily sucking up his saliva. It became increasingly excessive, with the slender tip even squeezing into his throat and wriggling deeper.

This was the first time Ming Ci had been violated to this extent by the monster. He couldn’t utter a single word; survival instinct made him tremble all over, unable to help struggling.

His throat was incredibly uncomfortable, unable to breathe properly, on the verge of suffocation. He could only emit weak and pitiful nasal sounds.

But the monster didn’t let Ming Ci go; instead, it tightly enveloped him.

At the same time, it unconsciously emitted a rich and peculiar fragrance, dragging his consciousness down into a sinking abyss.

Ming Ci’s struggling grew weaker and weaker. After an unknown period of time—perhaps seconds, perhaps much longer—he went limp, completely motionless.

The monster suddenly snapped back to its senses, hastily retracting its appendage, and frantically calling out to him, “Ming Ci?”

However, he didn’t respond. His heartbeat and breathing were so faint and feeble, as if he was about to disappear.

The fervent and intense emotions of the monster instantly cooled, as it carefully held Ming Ci, calling out to him repeatedly.

“Ming Ci… Ming Ci…”

It knew humans were fragile, but it didn’t expect that just doing this would bring him to the brink of death.

The urgent calls went unanswered, and the monster grew increasingly anxious, directly cutting off a piece of flesh, attempting to save him by feeding him.

The crimson soft substance melted in the mouth, flowing down Ming Ci’s throat, quickly taking effect.

His heartbeat gradually became heavier, his breathing suddenly rapid, like a drowning person gasping for air as they surfaced.

After about a dozen seconds, his breathing returned to normal, as if he had fallen into a peaceful slumber.

The monster still didn’t feel reassured, pressing close to Ming Ci’s gently rising and falling chest, feeling his heartbeat rhythm throughout the night.

Not until the first light of dawn filtered into the woods did it silently shrink back, quietly retreating to his lower back.

Half an hour later, Ming Ci woke up groggily, slowly opening his eyes.

The sky was just beginning to brighten, the forest serene and quiet, occasionally a few birdcalls echoing from afar. Cool dew rolled off the leaves, dripping onto Ming Ci’s forehead, causing him to shiver involuntarily, instantly becoming more alert.

Ming Ci leaned against the tree trunk, sitting up, pressing his temple, vaguely recalling the fragments of memory before he fell into a deep sleep.

The monster lurking in the darkness, the inescapable restraints… The sensation of near-death suffocation lingered like a nightmare, haunting his mind.

He raised his hand, lightly touching his neck and Adam’s apple, feeling a wave of horror.

He had almost been killed by it.

But looking at it from the other perspective, if the monster had really killed him, it would have been only fair.

His throat was probably swollen and sore, feeling hot and painful. Ming Ci tried to speak, but not only did it strain his throat, the sound that came out was unusually hoarse.

He took a short breath, picked up his backpack, and slowly stood up.

Just as he was about to start descending the mountain, Ming Ci suddenly remembered that when he was tackled by the monster last night, his phone had been thrown off, probably nearby.

Ming Ci found his phone in a pile of mixed green and yellow fallen leaves. The flashlight was still on, and the battery was only at 15%.

He turned off the flashlight, opened the chat app, and saw many messages popping up in the physics department group chat. The freshmen had been chatting excitedly all night.

The contacts at the bottom were marked with red dots. He clicked on it and saw three friend requests sent through the group chat: Wei Yuheng, Miao Nianchun, and a roommate he hadn’t met yet: Qin Shuyi.

Ming Ci didn’t immediately accept them. Instead, he returned to the chat page and checked the notifications sent by the counselor last night.

Tomorrow was the opening ceremony, the day after tomorrow would be the start of military training, and today they needed to go collect their military training uniforms.

His university life had already begun. If he couldn’t peacefully coexist with the monster, the days ahead would be unimaginable.

However, the monster had almost killed him just now, indicating that it harbored a deep hatred toward him.

Its dormant silence was only temporary. Once it regained its strength, it would probably seek revenge.

As Ming Ci descended the mountain along the forest path, lost in thought, he completely failed to notice a green snake coiled in the nearby bushes.

This snake was over a meter long, slithering close to the ground, swiftly approaching him.

By the time Ming Ci happened to catch sight of it, it was already within arm’s reach, its snake scales glinting ominously.

Caught off guard, Ming Ci saw the green snake about to touch his leg and could only panic and dodge.

Just at that moment, a burst of crimson gushed out from him, engulfing the green snake like a muddy flood.

Crackle!

This snake didn’t even have a chance to struggle. In the blink of an eye, it vanished completely.

Ming Ci fell into the grass, watching the scene unfold before his eyes.

Under his gaze, the crimson viscous fluid quickly gathered and formed, solidifying into several arms of varying lengths. One of the hands firmly grasped his ankle.

Ming Ci belatedly felt the pain and, lowering his eyes, noticed a scratched wound near his ankle, bleeding profusely.

His heart skipped a beat, a vague sense of foreboding creeping over him.

The warm, crimson blood continued to overflow, flowing down his pale, pristine skin and onto the scarlet palm grasping his ankle.

Under the extreme temptation, the monster couldn’t control itself. Not only did it consume the flowing blood, but it also emitted fine tendrils that invaded the wound, greedily sucking on flesh and blood.

Ming Ci couldn’t help but retract his leg, his voice hoarse as he called out, “Xiao Hong.”

Unexpectedly, this timid action agitated the monster. It tightened its grip, preventing him from moving, while also enveloping his entire body.

“I understand the meaning of lies now.”

The monster finally spoke to him, its tone still twisted and strange, but the intense emotions were unmasked.

“Ming Ci often lies to me, deceives me. You don’t want to nurture me, you don’t like me, you just want to burn me alive.”

Ming Ci’s breath faltered, momentarily speechless.

The monster pinched his cheeks, leaning close to his ear, asking, “Why don’t you like me? Why do you want to burn me alive?”

“There’s fire everywhere, it hurts so much, Ming Ci, why?”

For three full days, every moment, even during its weakened state, the monster had been contemplating.

What had it done wrong in the first place to make the host detest it so much, to the point of wanting to set it on fire?

Ming Ci’s eyelashes fluttered, silent for a few seconds before softly asking in return, “And what about you? Clearly, as a survival-oriented alien species, when you were trapped by the fire, why did you let the host escape alone?”

For the past few days, he had been pondering this question. The smoke and dust consumed by the fire seemed to have never drifted far away, carrying its mournful wails, constantly swirling and lingering in his mind.

“Is it because you know you won’t die, and afterward, you still need this body of mine?” Ming Ci paused, then continued, “Or is there another reason?”

The monster’s emotional intelligence was low, unable to discern the subtle emotions of humans, nor could it detect the host’s hidden expectations in his words.

Faced with the host’s question, it wouldn’t lie; it would either remain silent or answer directly.

“Because I want you to live,” the monster said, “I don’t know if I’ll die. I just don’t want you to suffer, and I don’t want you to die.”