Little Red Riding Hood and the Long-Haired Princess stared at Yu Sheng in disbelief.
“She’s been dead for an hour!” the Long-Haired Princess exclaimed, her wide eyes reflecting her alarm. “Her organs, her heart, her brain—everything has shut down. We’ve already checked. There’s no sign of life at all.”
“No,” Yu Sheng insisted, shaking his head. His initial confusion had hardened into certainty. “She’s not dead. Not yet. I can’t fully explain it, but I can sense her presence. She hasn’t crossed to the other side.”
He placed his hand on the faint bloodstains near the girl’s neck.
For an instant, a flurry of black, white, and gray images flickered across his mind—strange visions he couldn’t pin down. They vanished as swiftly as they had come, leaving him with a feeling of water slipping through his fingers.
Little Red Riding Hood’s voice broke into his thoughts. “You… can’t speak with her soul the way you did back in the museum, can you? Is that why you think she’s still alive?”
Yu Sheng hesitated, then nodded.
Her eyes widened in doubt, but behind that uncertainty, he caught a trace of fragile hope. “But…”
Yu Sheng raised a hand to stop her and the Long-Haired Princess from speaking.
Little Red Riding Hood and the Long-Haired Princess tensed, alarmed by his sudden action.
“She’s not dead,” Yu Sheng murmured, smearing his blood across her injuries. “She’s asleep. She’s stuck in a dream that’s hovering on the brink of death.”
Irene, sensing his urgency, jumped from Foxy’s arms and hurried over. “You saw something, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yes.” Yu Sheng’s voice sounded distant, as though he was speaking to himself. “I saw something—or maybe I understood it. Just for a heartbeat.”
He looked up sharply, meeting the uneasy gazes of those around him. “Move back,” he said firmly. “Just a little. She’s close to slipping away.”
Reluctantly, Little Red Riding Hood and the Long-Haired Princess stepped half a pace backward, sharing worried glances.
Yu Sheng broke the tense silence with an odd question. “Do you know how bees recognize death among their own?”
The two young women exchanged confused looks. “What?”
“Pheromones,” Yu Sheng answered without waiting for a reply. “When a bee is about to die, its body releases certain chemicals. The other bees pick up on the scent and carry the ‘corpse’ out of the hive to keep the colony safe. It’s efficient.” ℞АＮ𝐎𐌱ËŜ
He let the thought settle for a moment. “But there’s a flaw. Those death chemicals don’t always mean real death.”
He glanced at them, his tone calm but strangely intense. “If you coat a perfectly healthy bee with those chemicals, the others will treat it like a dead body. It doesn’t matter if it’s squirming and alive—they’ll still drag it out of the hive. For them, anything that smells like death must be dead, even if it’s moving.”
Little Red Riding Hood and the Long-Haired Princess listened with mounting unease, eyes darting between Yu Sheng’s bloodied hand and the frail girl.
“You’re suggesting…” Little Red Riding Hood whispered, her voice shaking, “…that we’re like those bees?”
“Yes.” Yu Sheng’s gaze was steady but disconcerting. “We’re just like them.”
He gently brushed his red-stained hand across the girl’s forehead, leaving a faint smear behind.
“Our idea of death is limited,” he went on. “We rely on signs—no heartbeat, no brain activity, no breathing, cooling blood, decaying cells. We see those and declare someone dead. But… what if not all those signs mean true death?”
Yu Sheng himself had died before, or so it seemed—his heart had stopped, his brain had gone dark. Anyone would have thought he was gone. Yet he wasn’t. In some way invisible to others, he had been waiting, caught in a deathlike state until it passed.
“Sometimes,” he muttered under his breath, “I wonder if I’ve ever really come back.”
The girl still lay motionless as Yu Sheng’s blood seemed to thread through her wounds, searching for something. It reminded him of his own uncanny experiences with death. Suddenly, he realized he understood what her “death” was—because it was so much like his own.
Silence fell. Yu Sheng glanced up to see Little Red Riding Hood and the Long-Haired Princess watching him with the same mixture of dread and hope. Irene stood close by, confusion flickering in her eyes. Foxy alone seemed entirely unsurprised, nodding as though everything made sense. “Our benefactor is grasping the Great Dao,” she said casually.
“Huh?” Irene stared at Foxy in disbelief. “How can you be so calm?”
Yu Sheng spoke before Irene could say any more. “We have three hours. Maybe less.”
Little Red Riding Hood frowned. “Three hours for what?”
“To bring her back,” Yu Sheng said, pointing to the still figure on the bed. “She’s drifting, and my blood alone won’t be enough. She needs someone to reach out and pull her back. Irene, I need your help.”
The little doll blinked. “Help how?”
“She’s dreaming,” Yu Sheng explained. “It’s a dream beyond her physical mind. Remember how you found me in the Black Forest? We’ll do that again. You find her, and I’ll follow you.”
“Oh!” Irene’s expression brightened. “Right! Just lie down, or sit—whatever. I’ll sort it out.”
Little Red Riding Hood stepped forward, her eyes resolute. “I’m coming too. I know the Black Forest better than either of you.”
Yu Sheng turned to Irene. “Is that okay? Can you bring one more person?”
Irene considered briefly, then nodded. “She’s already tied to the forest, so yes. I’ll guide both of you.”
Yu Sheng settled onto the floor beside the bed, crossing his legs. He patted the spot next to him, and Little Red Riding Hood wordlessly sat down as well.
The Long-Haired Princess hesitated, doubt tugging at her. “Are you sure this is a good idea? It… doesn’t sound like a standard procedure.”
Little Red Riding Hood caught Yu Sheng’s eye. “We’ll try,” she said, steeling herself.
Dark, threadlike strands unfurled from Irene’s small hands, weaving together into a shimmering net that spread out around them like the tentacles of some deep-sea creature. The threads slipped gently into the girl’s body.
From a short distance away, the Long-Haired Princess watched, uneasy. “Does everyone at your ‘hotel’ do stuff this strange?”
Foxy merely admired Irene’s work, commenting with a pleased smile, “Irene could be a great Weaving Immortal one day.”
Yu Sheng heard her words dimly as his awareness started to blur. His last clear thought before slipping away was that Irene really had grown stronger.
Then the dizzy sensation of falling overtook him.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the endless darkness of the Black Forest.
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation