Chapter 1079: Horn
Li City University.
The setting sun shrouded the campus in a gentle, serene red. White champak flowers bloomed along the shaded path outside the girls' dorm, their thick fragrance hanging in the air.
Two college students stood under a champak tree. The boy was tall and slim, his youthful face at odds with his formal suit. His carefully styled hair completed the look. He held a bouquet of roses, his expression a mixture of pain, anxiety, and pitiful desperation.
The girl, Zhou Jing, wore loose pajamas and slippers, a face mask plastered to her face. Arms crossed, she seemed ready to end this conversation yesterday.
The boy begged once more, eyes red. “Babe, I…”
“Use my name,” Zhou Jing cut him off.
“Zhou Jing, I can’t lose you! Please, give me another chance. If there’s something you don’t like about me, I’ll change it. I can change—” He pushed the bouquet of roses toward her.
“Ugh, I told you that’s not the issue.” Zhou Jing stepped back, refusing to take the flowers. “I just stopped feeling anything about you. Our relationship is over. We’re both adults. Why can’t you just leave it be?”
“No, impossible…”
Zhou Jing’s phone rang. Her lowered brows rose reflexively as she glanced at it. Then she schooled her expression into nonchalance.
“Who was that?!” The boy had caught the name of a man on the screen.
“A friend,” Zhou Jing said flippantly. “Alright, I’m heading back if there’s nothing else—”
“No!” The boy cast the roses aside and grabbed her hand. “Who was that? You must tell me!”
“Let go! If you don’t, I’m going to call the police!”
“I’m not letting you go! Tell me who was the man messaging you!”
Zhou Jing broke out of his hold. Their tussle was interrupted when an oppressive, unnerving horn reached them. They both stopped, looking up at the crimson sky in confusion.
They weren't alone. Everyone on campus had stopped whatever they were doing to stare upward.
A few seconds later, Zhou Jing shut her eyes and collapsed to the ground.
“Jing Jing!” the boy broke out of his reverie and called out, crouching down to help her up. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Zhou Jing slowly opened her eyes, appearing like a different person entirely.
She tore off her face mask with hazy eyes and an alluring expression, smirking at the boy. The sudden shift in attitude caught him off guard. He gaped at her in surprise.
Zhou Jing raised her cool right hand to caress his face as if appreciating a work of art.
Her lips parted. She uttered a word.
…
Shanqing Hospital, Li City.
“Hurry! His heart’s stopped beating!”
“AED! 200 joule!”
“Adrenaline shot! Hurry!”
“300 joule…”
Multiple doctors swarmed around an old man in the operating room, fighting to resuscitate him. The man was a terminal cancer patient. When given his diagnosis, doctors said he had three months to live.
However, his only family—his twin brother—refused to give up, and the patient remained optimistic and strong-willed. Miraculously, he survived for half a year. While his condition had turned critical twice, he pulled through.
This was the third time. Miracle didn't answer once more.
Beep—beep—beep—
After more than ten minutes of collective effort, the old man’s heart still stopped. The doctors settled, looking at the body on the bed for a few silent seconds.
Death could be considered a release for this patient.
“Deceased, Liu Tao, 80 years old.”
“Time of death, 5:31 p.m., first of April, 2019.”
“Cause of death, terminal esophageal cancer, metastatic liver cancer, and multiple organ failures—”
Before the announcement could be finished, an oppressive horn swept, compelling all of them to stop and look out of the window at the crimson sky.
Beep—beep—beep, beep—beep, beep,beep—
A few seconds later, the dead man’s heartbeat recovered. He opened his darkened eyelids, his once-muddled eyes now clear and sharp.
He looked up at the ceiling and tore off the oxygen mask, uttering a word.
…
Suburban ranch, West Nation.
At five in the morning, a stocky middle-aged maid yawned as she pushed a wheelchair across the ranch, heading to the cattle barn.
Sitting in the wheelchair was a thin, frail old man with precious few strands of silver hair, his head drooping, face covered in wrinkles.
One of his hands was tucked under his armpit and kept trembling, like a T-rex’s shrunken foreleg. His muddy blue eyes bulged unnaturally, his yellowed teeth visible in his lopsided, drooling mouth.
It was evident that he had suffered a severe stroke.
Mark was his name. He had been an entirely different man in his youth—a star boxer who had never known defeat, blessed with endless fame, money, honor, and beautiful women.
“Ah…ughhh…”
He spoke unintelligibly, expression intense.
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. We’re going to check on the cows!” the maid snapped. Recently, the old man had been waking before dawn, throwing tantrums nonstop for one reason or another. She had no choice but to force herself awake and take him walking. That was the only thing that would calm him.
The old man had a special attachment to the cattle. He always calmed down when the maid pushed him to the barn. Then he would stare at the meek, ignorant cows, in a daze.
It was no different this time around.
Mark stared at the cow in the very back of the barn with bulging eyes, seemingly lost in the moment. He muttered, “Ah…ugh…hm…”
Suddenly, an oppressive horn cut through the cold night sky where dawn hadn’t broken. The maid looked up dumbly, her attention seized. She felt suddenly dazed, her heart pounding.
“God, what is that sound… We’re heading back, Mr. Mark.”
Survival instinct drove her to push the wheelchair with a hand pressed to her chest, yet the wheelchair was suddenly lighter. She looked down to find the old man gone—Mark had stood up and walked out of the barn barefooted.
“My god!” the maid called out in surprise, thinking this must be a dream. “Mr. Mark, your…your legs are moving again?”
Mark fell silent for a few seconds. His muddy blue eyes turned bright and heated like there was a fire in them.
With a scoff, he uttered a word.
…
Degenerate Street, Li City University.
The Borderrunners tabletop cafe didn’t see the usual bustle today; a sign had been put up at the door, saying, “Shop Sold.”
Clack. Someone opened the thick glass door. A young girl walked in, her medium-length hair a gradient from white to pink. She had large, bright gray-blue eyes, pink lips, and a delicate chin. She wore a baseball hat and an oversized varsity jacket with number four on the back, paired with high-top canvas shoes.
Following the pink-haired girl was a short-haired woman in punk style.
“Sister Li, you’re free to check the place out.” Wang Shu sat down behind the counter, turning on the desktop. “The place is popular. The necessary systems are all in place. You can check the accounting records here.”
“If it’s so popular, why sell it?” Sister Li asked.
“Haha, it’s too tiring. I can’t keep the place running on my own. Although it earns me money, it loses me all my happiness.” Wang Shu lazed on the counter, blinking up at Sister Li like a child. “I prefer a slacker’s life. Sister Li, I’ll sell the place to you cheaply. You be the boss. Then hire me to be the employee. That way, I can be a happy slacker every day.”
“Why would I hire someone like you?” Sister Li lit a cigarette.
“Trust me, Sister Li, all employees slack off.” Wang Shu winked at her. “It may not seem like it, but I’m actually very competent.”
“Alright, I’ll consider it.”
Suddenly, an oppressive horn sounded. Sister Li paused, gaze shifting to the crimson setting sun outside the window. After a compelled moment, she broke out of her reverie. When she turned back, Wang Shu had already fallen asleep on the counter.
“Little Shu?” Sister Li went up and called out.
Wang Shu’s eyelashes fluttered. She opened her eyes and slowly sat up. A hand propping her chin up, she lazily uttered a word.
…
Northbound Funeral Home, Li City.
The horn sound rippled from the setting sun, soon going through the funeral home’s walls and finding the freezer cabinets storing the cadavers. One cabinet opened on its own, containing a black body bag labeled with a number and a name—Surnamed Li.
Her body wasn’t incinerated or buried due to Chen Ying’s request. Chen Ying hated the woman more than anyone, yet when she died right before her eyes, Chen Ying realized that the true antonym of love was indifference.
She couldn’t be indifferent to the woman who had raised her. She couldn’t let go. She realized that a small voice remained in her, hoping for her body to be preserved so that the woman might one day be brought back.
For what?
Well, for Chen Ying to continue to hate her rather than forget about her.
To Gao Yang and the others, Surnamed Li was a hateful and pitiful woman. Since none of them had comprehended Prophet yet, though, bringing her back would be the quickest way to access the Talent. And they all agreed that resurrection would be her biggest punishment and the best way for her to atone.
That was how the body came to be stored at the funeral home, and thus, they didn’t realize that Surnamed Li’s body could not be destroyed simply by burning it.
Hiss. An intangible force zipped open the body bag. The body flew out upside down, hanging suspended in the morgue in an eerie manner. She wore plain clothes for the deceased. The loose pants legs dropped, revealing frail, blackened legs.
Suddenly, a crack split open in the body's left knee. Blood trickled down as a dark crimson vertical eye with no lashes opened.
Gurgle, gurgle.
The body's leg muscles began writhing as if countless worms moved beneath the skin. More crimson vertical eyes opened across the legs like sprouts. In thirty seconds, the dense eyes covered both legs, widening and shifting, seemingly looking in different directions at different things. It looked wrong, misplaced, like a cosmic mistake.
Body still lifeless, Surnamed Li opened her crackled lips, uttering a word.
Houseau3's ThoughtsI think we all see what's coming, and THIS IS RUDE AUTHOR.
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