Chapter 109: The Truth of Death

What do you mean, “without Ji Wuxie”?

Ji Taimei opened his mouth to speak, but the old face of Wang Nainai on the human-bone snake’s skull suddenly widened its eyes, raised its eyebrows, and opened its mouth wide—its ferocity erupted instantly. Piercing pain shot through both armpits; the sticky sound of flesh tearing echoed into his cochlea along the bones.

Creak, creak—Wang Nainai’s opened ribs pierced his chest cavity, punching through both sides of Ji Taimei’s body with finger-thick blood holes. Sweet, thick blood gushed out from them; immense agony surged up his spine into his brain, forcing Ji Taimei to scream in unbearable torment.

“Ah! Ah… ah… aaaaaa!” He instinctively twisted and writhed, his body bound by ribs bending and contorting like a fish thrown onto dry land.

Yet the strange snake bones wrapped around him were as solid as cast bronze and iron; the piercing pain did not lessen one bit from his struggles—instead, the sharp ribs drove deeper, creak, creak, deeper still.

Wang Nainai lowered her head and bit down on Ji Taimei’s neck; her blackened, rotten teeth sank into his trachea. With a wet pop, she tore off his larynx along with skin and flesh. Warm arterial blood spurted from the violently ripped carotid artery.

Ji Taimei’s eyes widened as he watched Wang Nainai swallow his torn larynx whole. A profound sense of unreality flooded his mind—even the agony of his flesh being torn felt illusory, as if he were watching a movie.

Human beings have a pain threshold over short durations; when triggered, the brain, sensing imminent death, automatically releases massive amounts of analgesics to maintain conscious awareness and prevent shock from excessive pain, thereby increasing survival probability.

At this moment, Ji Taimei felt all his senses clearer than ever before—he could distinctly sense the shape of each rib embedded in his body, like knives driving deeper and deeper, until—snap.

Like a balloon bursting, the opened ribs of the human-bone snake finally closed completely, piercing straight through his throbbing heart.

A warm sensation overflowed from deep within his chest—it was arterial blood, pumping relentlessly from his vessels, flooding his chest cavity and soaking his gradually cooling organs.

Ji Taimei’s eyes were vacant; heavy breathing and chewing sounds echoed in his ears—Wang Nainai was still gnawing at his neck, tearing off bloody chunks of flesh like a wild dog, swallowing them whole, then dropping them from the severed trachea.

He clearly felt his carotid artery exposed like a power cable ripped from a transformer box; he felt his pierced heart spasming violently in a pool of blood, twitching, then finally still.

Ji Taimei’s heart stopped beating.

Above, the night sky brimmed with snowy moonlight; thin clouds drifted across the heavens. The crunching sounds of chewing flesh faded into the distance; even the pain of his pierced chest felt ethereal. After who knew how long, a faint pale glow appeared on the distant horizon—his consciousness sank into darkness.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh—!!!”

Ji Taimei jolted upright with a scream in total darkness. Thump—he smashed his forehead into something wooden. Pain flared. His flailing arms and wildly kicking legs, driven by terror, were blocked by two narrow walls on either side, unable to extend fully.

“What…?” Ji Taimei groped around with trembling hands and realized he was trapped inside a tightly sealed, rectangular, angular space. The stifling air carried the distinct scent of pine wood; total darkness surrounded him, not a glimmer of light.

Is this a coffin?

Ji Taimei pressed his palms against the wooden lid above and shoved upward with all his strength. The heavy board cracked open a slit; bright light streamed in. He was indeed lying inside a coffin.

“How did I end up in a coffin?” Ji Taimei stared at the light seeping through the crack above, intending to push the lid fully open and escape.

But the terrifying scene flashed before his eyes again—Wang Nainai’s pale face and venomous gaze lingered vividly. His shoulders trembled; without thinking, he let the cracked lid fall shut. Darkness returned. Outside, sunlight was bright—it must be morning now. He had entered Yanglao Village around eleven last night.

—Did I just sleep in this coffin until now?

The forehead that had struck the coffin lid still throbbed. Ji Taimei felt the coffin’s narrow confines and darkness, recalling last night’s events:

“Last night… on the way into the village, I saw the Tudimiao. Its head crawled out of its body, dragging a long chain of spine behind it. I panicked, fled blindly, and ran straight into the village.”

“After entering, I followed my memory toward my grandmother’s house. In the bamboo grove by the roadside, I saw a coffin placed on a shed—and another coffin left exposed beside a house…”

“Then from the window of the house beside the coffin, a snake-like monster crawled out—with Wang Nainai’s face…”

Its ribs pierced my chest. Its teeth tore through my neck… it killed me. It killed me!

It killed me!

Intense rage surged into Ji Taimei’s mind—he himself didn’t understand why he felt rage instead of fear.

After the rage subsided, Ji Taimei calmed slightly. The sensations then were crystal clear: he had felt his trachea bitten through, his heart pierced, his organs soaked in internal bleeding… everything from last night was unbearably real. He had watched, fully conscious, as his own body was slowly devoured alive.

But now he was still thinking—meaning he was still alive.

So was last night’s experience fake? A hallucination?

To confirm this, there was a simple method: Ji Taimei reached up and gently touched his face. He felt the soft texture of flesh and skin.

=9+ Shu _ Ba

“Good…” Ji Taimei exhaled in silent relief.

But as his fingertips slid from his cheekbones down to his cheeks, the softness vanished. In its place were hard, cold, slightly sharp objects along his cheeks.

They were teeth.

“Ah… aaaa…”

A terrible premonition arose. Ji Taimei tried opening his mouth—his fingers slid effortlessly through the side of his cheek into his mouth.

No—he no longer had a mouth in any ordinary sense.

His hands trembled as he felt deep, gashed bite marks across his face. The flesh on both cheeks had vanished entirely; his bloody gums were exposed.

His palms moved downward past his face—his neck was a gaping, bloody wound torn by force. His chest cavity was cold; inside lay a dead lump of flesh, his heart, motionless.

He was truly dead.

(End of Chapter)