Chapter 20: What Are You Afraid Of?

Yang Yi wove through the clouds, countless stars above following her, while mountains and rivers below moved slowly.

She was not flying toward Xincheng in the Kingdom of Aka—though she had said so; the atmosphere at the time demanded it, and she felt she must say it to express her feelings, which did not mean she truly intended to fly there.

Her destination was that seaside small town, Haibei City, her secret base.

This was the first time she had flown such a long distance, from Jingcheng in the north to the southern seaside, over two thousand kilometers; driving nonstop would take twenty-four hours, high-speed rail twelve hours, and a plane three hours, yet she flew for one hour.

Sometimes she was grateful for her superpower; telekinesis was like an invisible hand of hers, helping her solve many big and small troubles in life.

Landing on that familiar cliff, she stood before it, facing the salty, fishy sea breeze, gazing out at the vast ocean.

It was not a calm night; the sea wind howled, whipping up countless waves, which constantly crashed against the sheer cliff face, occasionally sending scattered droplets of water, swept up by the wind, onto her face.

The purple flowers of the Chinese privet had already withered, the gorgeous oleander bloomed in full, and the scent of the newly opened osmanthus was not so pungent; if it were a calm day, this would be a pleasant, secluded spot.

But now, they all swayed wildly in the howling sea wind; rustling, swishing, leaves slapped against each other, branches rubbed against each other, like demons baring their claws and fangs in a movie.

Yang Yi casually wiped the seawater off the lounge chair, then lay down upon it, letting her entire body's weight collapse onto the chair, as if returning to the safest, warmest, most familiar home in the world.

She brushed aside the oleander branch that the wind had slapped against her face, just as one would shoo away a mischievous kitten always at her heels.

The sea wind grew stronger; a flash of lightning streaked across the distant sea surface, illuminating waves hiding countless dangers, followed by thunder reaching her ears, plunging into her eardrums, and exploding within her ear canals.

Accompanying the thunder and lightning came a downpour; the raindrops were huge, each one capable of making a small pit when it hit the ground, and when these tiny raindrops attacked in the thousands and tens of thousands, it was like ten thousand horses and eight thousand soldiers charging forward, an awe-inspiring momentum.

The oleander was quickly bent low, the osmanthus flowers fell in scattered dots into the mud, flowing with the small streams formed by the rainwater to the cliff edge, and plunging into the sea.

She rested peacefully in the lounge chair; all raindrops, as they approached her surroundings, seemed to hit an invisible shield, automatically curving in mid-air before falling to the ground.

She gazed at the sea, many thoughts rising and vanishing in her mind like ice and foam sinking and floating in summer water, disappearing in an instant.

She felt a long-lost sense of security; the rapid changes and superficiality of these past days had all departed from her, and she had finally found her previous tranquility.

In her ears, the rainstorm hammered; before her eyes, the sea raged; around her, various trees danced wildly, yet she gradually felt a bit of sleepiness.

"Ding—" A text message sounded; Yang Yi frowned slightly—she did not want to be disturbed by anyone or anything at this moment.

She half-opened her eyelids to glance at her phone; it was Chris. He had sent a photo, his look on the filming set. Oh, it seemed to be morning over there.

Well, considering the person in this photo was truly handsome, she forgave him.

She turned her phone to silent, stuffed it into her pants pocket, then rolled over, curling her body up—just like an infant in the mother's womb—and fell into a deep sleep.

The wild wind howled, the waves rolled, the rainstorm slanted, the bushes bared their claws and fangs; on the high cliff, only this small space of the lounge chair was so tranquil.

She saw a back figure slowly departing; she desperately wanted to keep that back figure; she wanted to shout something, but her soul seemed tightly bound by something, and every action directed by her will was so difficult.

She struggled desperately, shouting with a strength that could split her soul: "Mom!"

That back figure turned around; on her exhausted face was a look of shock; she walked back, squatted beside her with a complex expression, touched her forehead and face, and then stood up and left again.

She suddenly realized she was dreaming, and it was the dream most deeply imprinted in her childhood memories.

The instant she realized this, she detached from the little girl's body and stood aside, watching the scene like an observer.

The little girl was probably only three or four years old; she looked blankly as her mother walked away, wanting to shout something, yet she lowered her head and started playing with her fingers.

It was early morning, the sky not yet fully bright; when the sky gradually brightened and people began to appear, someone discovered this small figure.

The mottled iron gate behind was knocked open: "Old Yang's family, this looks like your second brother's granddaughter! Why is she locked outside the gate!"

Finally, the iron gate opened; a thin, dried-up old woman and a burly old man walked out, followed by a middle-aged man wiping eye discharge from his eyes.

"Damn it, why put this little bastard at our door! Where did that jinx run off to..."

Yang Yi was like watching an old movie; the real scene played out directly before her eyes.

She had long grown tired of this scene, so she turned around and left without hesitation.

She walked and walked, then encountered a dog and the little girl from just now.

Compared to the appearance she had just seen, the little girl's body was now frail, her hair sparse, drifting in the wind like withered straw. Her face was covered in a thick layer of grime, as if she hadn't bathed in years, making her original features unrecognizable. A rusty iron chain, extremely heavy, was looped around her thin neck, weighing her down so she could not lift her head.

She was tied next to a doghouse along with a yellow dog; the doghouse was built from asbestos tiles and bricks, leaking wind everywhere, with only a makeshift nest inside made of broken cotton wadding and old clothes.

The clothes the little girl wore—those could no longer be called clothes; even a rag used for over ten years would be more complete and cleaner than them. She squatted on the ground, her small back arched, her spine protruding sharply beneath the skin, each vertebra clearly visible. Her neck was pulled by the iron chain, drooping weakly between her knees; her right hand searched in a dog bowl stained with years of grime, scooping up some spoiled food scraps and shoving them into her mouth.

She ate with such impatience.

The big yellow dog was already full, sitting proudly beside her, wagging its tail and squinting at the little girl, as if looking at a fellow creature of even lower status.

Yang Yi watched this scene with a blank expression, unmoved.

After an unknown number of days, finally a neighbor could not bear to watch, and then people from the neighborhood committee and the Women's Federation arrived; the dried-up old woman jumped up and down, crying and cursing:

"... the jinx... ran away..."

"... the little bastard... an idiot... doesn't understand words... runs around... tied up..."

"... whoever finds it too cruel... take her away... I don't want to raise her..."

She was too lazy to watch any longer, so she left again.

This time, she encountered a case of bullying.

On the side of a road with few people, a burly little boy pushed the frail little girl to the ground; he viciously tore her textbooks and homework into shreds, scattering them over her like paper money for the dead, cursing hatefully: "Little bastard! Who let you score better than me! Made my parents scold me when I got home! I'll tear them all up! Let's see you act so cocky! Eating our family's food, yet having no sense of propriety... still daring to score better than me... you MB little idiot, suddenly becoming smart, why don't you just stay stupid..."

A slightly older girl stood nearby, watching this scene with a grin, provoking: "You might as well cripple her hands; isn't that how they act on TV? Sever the tendons in her hands and feet, and she'll become disabled, never able to score better than you again; our dad and mom won't scold you anymore, hehe..."

This time, she only glanced once and immediately left, not staying for even half a second longer.

She walked and walked, wanting to leave this disgusting dream quickly.

Finally, she seemed to hear the howling of the wild wind and the sound of the storm; was she finally waking up? She walked forward joyfully, entering a vast expanse of green wheat waves rippling in the wild wind.

Night enveloped everything; lightning in the distance split the night sky, bolts of thunder exploded, the rainstorm brought by the wild wind struck a vast, boundless wheat field, bending it low.

At the end of the deserted fields lay a row of concrete pipes; from one relatively dry pipe came a rustling sound.

She turned her head to look and saw a little girl hiding inside the concrete pipe; there was a wound on her chin, and several bloodstains on her bony wrists, but she ignored the pain; with both hands she rubbed a handful of green wheat ears pulled from the wheat field, regardless of the unremoved husks still on them, and shoved the green wheat grains into her mouth, chewing eagerly.

Then she rubbed another handful of green wheat ears.

Seeming a bit thirsty, she stretched out her hand to catch a handful of rainwater and gulped it down into her stomach.

After eating five or six handfuls of green wheat grains, her movements gradually slowed down; while rubbing wheat ears with both hands, she looked around.

Everywhere was pitch-black; only when lightning struck could one occasionally glimpse the grotesque shadows around.

She was a little afraid, so she curled herself into a ball, her back leaning against the cold concrete pipe. She hugged her shins, her face buried in her knees, glancing in fright now and then at the gap on the left side of the pipe, then suddenly twisting her head to look at the right, as if something terrifying were there.

Yang Yi watched quietly for a while, then slowly walked toward the concrete pipe.

Comfort her, even if this is only a dream, she told herself.

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks.

Inside the concrete pipe, a black shadow appeared beside the little girl. That black shadow embraced the little girl and softly comforted her: "Don't be afraid, little Yang Yi. In this world, the human heart is far more terrifying than ghosts! At worst, ghosts can only scare you, but those people not only despise you, destroy you, they even want to devour you!

"You've lived too hard. Even after growing up, you'll still live in great pain.

"What's the meaning of a life like this? Better to end it before it begins, don't you think?

"How about this — shall we make a deal?"

That voice grew softer and softer, as if facing the most precious, most fragile treasure in the world:

"I will bring you a power comparable to the gods; no one will ever be able to hurt you, and from now on you'll never again suffer grievance or humiliation. Then," she said softly, in gentle, tender words:

"Will you give me your body?"

A flash of lightning streaked across, and the silvery light instantly illuminated that black shadow's face — it was Yang Yi's face, the face of Yang Yi already grown up.

Only this face was so unfamiliar, and the smile on it so strange.

In the momentary flash of lightning, that face lifted its head to look at Yang Yi standing outside the concrete pipe, and she said with a smile:

"You'll become me in the end. What are you afraid of?"