It was the twelfth year since Gao Yang had transmigrated to this world.
Before crossing over, Gao Yang had been an orphan. He had just celebrated his sixth birthday at the orphanage. That night, he ate the cupcake the dorm matron had bought him, then drifted off to sleep with a contented heart. Right before he nodded off, he'd made a wish—he hoped he could find a mom and dad—and then slipped into a drowsy slumber.
When he woke up, Gao Yang found himself sitting at a dining table. In front of him was a bowl of steaming hot noodles, and he had a mouthful of noodles hanging halfway out of his mouth, swaying slightly.
In the main hall of the old house, the morning light was soft and gentle. Across the table sat a pair of unfamiliar middle-aged man and woman. At the head of the table, leaning against the door, was a kind-faced old grandmother. And beside him sat a little girl with big, round eyes, probably four or five years old.
"Don't just sit there—hurry up and eat! You'll be late for school," the woman urged. She was in her thirties, and even though she was wearing plain pajamas with no makeup on her face, she was strikingly beautiful.
"Son, do you want me to walk you to school?" the man asked in a warm, easygoing tone. He was tall and burly, with a slight paunch and a receding hairline, but traces of his youthful handsomeness still lingered in his features.
"No! Daddy has to take me to kindergarten!" The little girl pouted, her cheeks puffing up as she leaned over the table, shoveling a bowl of millet porridge into her mouth.
"Hehe, then let's drop off your brother first, and then we'll go for you, okay?" The old grandmother smiled kindly, reaching out to pat the little girl's head.
Gao Yang's mouth fell open in shock. The noodles slipped from his lips with a plop and landed on the dining table.
He was only six years old back then. He had no idea what "transmigration" meant, nor did he know anything about "parallel worlds."
He'd thought he was still dreaming—but he'd never imagined that this dream would last for twelve whole years.
Now, Gao Yang had long since adapted to this new world, fully merging with the body he'd taken over. This was who he was now: Gao Yang, eighteen years old, a senior three student, living in a warm and loving family of five. He had a kind grandmother, parents who were deeply in love (even if they bickered occasionally), and a mischievous little sister.
He was living a good life. Like most teenagers his age, he buried himself in his studies for the college entrance exam, occasionally daydreaming about what university he would attend, what job he would get, who he would marry, and how many children he would have…
In short, the wish he'd made when he was six had come true. He'd "found" a mom and dad—and gotten a grandmother and a little sister as a bonus.
He was living a happy life, with no other desires.
Until his eighteenth birthday.
That was the day everything changed.
After evening self-study, Gao Yang was riding his bike home. As he passed through a dark, quiet alley, a shadow suddenly darted out from the entrance, knocking him off his bike with a crash.
Gao Yang fell to the ground, but luckily he wasn't seriously hurt. He grimaced in pain as he stood up, and that's when he finally got a clear look at the person who'd hit him. Under the dim streetlamp stood a short, middle-aged man. He looked gaunt and emaciated, his face deathly pale, his expression twisted with terror. He was wearing a tattered hospital gown, stained all over with blood.
"Sir, are you—"
"Run!" The man grabbed Gao Yang's shoulders with a terrifying strength, his voice cracking with desperation. "Monsters! They're everywhere—monsters! Run! Get out of here!"
There was a faint, metallic tang of blood in the man's voice as he hissed, "Don't trust anyone…."
Bang!
Before the man could say another word, a bullet pierced his temple, tearing straight through his skull and exiting from the other side. A spray of blood bloomed like a crimson rose in the air.
Sizzle—
Thick, coppery-smelling blood mist filled the air, assaulting Gao Yang's nostrils with its acrid stench.
The hands clutching his shoulders slowly went limp. The man's terrified expression froze forever on his face. His bulging eyes stared unblinkingly ahead, filled with nothing but despair, confusion, and bitter unwillingness.
A second later, his body crashed heavily to the ground.
Gao Yang was stunned.
He stood rooted to the spot, his feet quickly soaking in the spreading pool of blood. It felt sticky and wet against his skin. The faint ringing in his ears from the gunshot was soon drowned out by the thunderous pounding of his own heart: Thump, thump, thump-thump-thump…
"Kid, are you hurt?!"
"Don't be scared—you're safe now!"
"Close your eyes. Don't look at the ground…."
Several police officers rushed over. One of them pulled Gao Yang into his arms, covering his eyes with his hands.
The next day, Gao Yang made the headline of the local news: Severely Mentally Ill Man Kills Two Nurses and Escapes at Night; Shot Dead on the Spot After Taking High School Student Hostage.
Gao Yang asked for a day off from school to rest at home.
He was indeed shaken up. Witnessing someone being shot dead in cold blood at such close range would be too much for any ordinary person to handle. Besides, there were so many suspicious things about the "mentally ill man" incident that it left him feeling uneasy—though he couldn't put his finger on exactly what was wrong.
That night, Gao Yang took a sleeping pill.
Once he fell asleep, he began to dream.
He had long since digested all the original owner's memories from before the age of six, but some vague fragments seemed to have been lost to him.
In his dream, Gao Yang was back in the middle of a summer night when he was four years old.
He'd eaten too much watermelon, and his bladder was bursting. He'd gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and as he passed his grandparents' room, he heard a soft, rustling sound coming from inside.
Curious, Gao Yang pricked up his ears, pressing them against the cold wooden door. The sound became clearer—and stranger.
He'd never heard anything like it before. It was like the whimper of a wild beast, or the mournful cry of a giant deep-sea whale. It sounded agonizing, yet mixed with a twisted kind of frenzy. If he listened closely, beneath that sound, he could also hear the rough, muffled crunch of gnawing and tearing.
A chill ran down Gao Yang's spine.
Just that day, his kindergarten teacher had told the class the story of Little Red Riding Hood. He thought, Could it be that a big bad wolf had snuck into their house and eaten his grandparents?
His heart was pounding so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest, but he still mustered up the courage to gently push the door open a crack.
And that was when he saw it.
Petrified with fear, he turned and ran back to his room, diving under the covers and burying his head. He even forgot all about his urgent need to use the bathroom.
The next morning, Gao Yang woke up to find that he'd wet the bed. He'd thought it was just a terrible nightmare—until his mother pushed his door open, tears streaming down her face as she pulled him into her arms. "Gao Yang," she sobbed, "Grandpa's gone."
As Gao Yang followed his mother out of the room, his grandfather's body was being wheeled away on a stretcher by medical staff, covered with a white cloth. By the time the funeral was held, his grandfather had already been reduced to a small urn of ashes.
From start to finish, neither Gao Yang nor his little sister had been allowed to see their grandfather one last time.
Now, thinking back on it, there were so many things that didn't add up.
Grandpa had loved him and his sister more than anything—they were his closest blood relatives. So why weren't they allowed to see him for the last time?
And if his memory served him right, the shape of Grandpa's upper body under the white cloth had been strange, as if one of his hands was missing.
Hadn't Grandpa died of a heart attack?
In his dream, Gao Yang stared at the body on the white stretcher, his mind spinning with confusion.
Suddenly, the body on the stretcher sat up.
The white cloth fell away.
It was the mentally ill man.
His eyes had been gouged out, leaving two dark, gaping blood holes. Thick, black blood gushed from his seven orifices. He reached out his blood-drenched hands and grabbed Gao Yang's shoulders with a vice-like grip.
—Monsters! They're everywhere—monsters! Run! Get out of here!—Don't trust anyone!
"Ah!"
Gao Yang jolted awake with a scream.
It was ten o'clock in the morning. The sunlight streamed in through the window, warm and bright. A soft April breeze fluttered the curtains, and outside, the street was filled with the noisy bustle of cars and people going about their day.
"Brother, did you have a nightmare?"
His little sister was sitting on the edge of his bed, tilting her head to look at him, her big eyes blinking innocently.
Gao Yang stared at her in shock. "What are you doing in my room?"
The little girl rolled her eyes at him in disdain. "The sun's already high in the sky! Mom told me to come wake you up!"
"Oh… right. Got it."
His sister hopped off the bed and walked out of the room.
Gao Yang was still in a daze. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and took a big gulp of water from the cup on his nightstand.
Just then, his phone buzzed. He picked it up casually and unlocked WeChat.
Pfft—
He spat out the water in his mouth in shock.