Chapter 72: Today, I Finally Know Who I Am

Ning Zhe removed the demon mask from the man’s face, revealing a pale, gaunt visage—early twenties, sharp features, a sternly handsome countenance.

Further searching the corpse, Ning Zhe found no documents or items proving the man’s identity; the phone in his pocket was a brand-new, unopened device, containing only factory-installed apps, with an empty contact list—clearly designed to conceal his identity.

Fortunately, his call history hadn’t been fully erased: a video call made roughly half an hour ago remained in the logs—the only lead available.

Ning Zhe’s own phone buzzed—it was Feng Yu calling.

Ning Zhe ignored Feng Yu’s call, picked up the dead man’s phone, opened the call history from half an hour ago, and redialed.

The call connected quickly, and a calm, refined male voice emerged from the speaker:

“Calling me at this hour… did you get the Te Rang?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a grotesque demon mask covered Ning Zhe’s face; a distorted, synthesized rasp issued from his throat: “Mm.”

“Congratulations,” came the voice, tinged with amusement. “I’m withdrawing now. This job’s settled. Happy to cooperate. If you need help again, feel free to reach out—my prices are always fair.”

“I will,” Ning Zhe murmured.

The call ended.

At the same moment, the sky over Taoyuan City brightened.

The floor beside him was instantly covered in layers of wind-eroded marks; a mobile signal tower rose on a nearby rooftop. Ning Zhe stood straight, gazing far into the distance—the prominent glass dome beside Taojiang had been replaced by a Linjiang Park; Hengsha Ecological Garden had been demolished two years ago.

Time had passed. He had returned to Taoyuan City in 2018.

Ning Zhe exhaled slowly, a faint smile touching his lips: “So that’s how it is.”

As the identity “Ye Yao, known to Tu Yu,” dissolved like sugar in his mind’s coffee cup, Ning Zhe understood many things.

After spending time disposing of the mask-wearer’s corpse, Ning Zhe remembered to reply to Feng Yu’s several missed calls.

Hospitals on weekdays were packed, especially elite tertiary hospitals like Qinzhou Medical College—traffic was terrifying. The entire first-floor lobby was crowded, unsuitable for private meetings. Feng Yu quickly booked a private room at a hotel on the commercial street and sent the location and room number.

Half an hour later, Ning Zhe finally arrived and sat down; Feng Yu sat stiffly across from him.

“Where’s Bai Zhi?” Ning Zhe asked as soon as he sat.

“She… is asleep. Still in the hospital,” Feng Yu said, looking uneasy. “Right after the false world from four years ago vanished, Ah Zhi collapsed. The doctors say she’s fine—just sleep-deprived and psychologically traumatized.”

“The doctors are right.”

Ning Zhe nodded. “Your daughter seems to have dissociative identity disorder—probably shattered by childhood ghost encounters. She’s selectively forgotten all things related to ghosts, and normally she’s withdrawn and uncommunicative. But when she actually encounters a ghost, Bai Zhi becomes another, more extreme personality.”

Ning Zhe had already witnessed it at the gas station.

“What… what should I do?” Feng Yu asked anxiously.

“Why ask me? Psychological issues go to psychologists. Don’t keep dumping everything on me—I don’t owe you anything.” Ning Zhe leaned back in his chair. “On the contrary, you owe me. So soon, I’ll need you to help me with something—remember to clear your schedule then.”

“Yes, I will,” Feng Yu replied earnestly. “There’s one more thing—about Ye Yao…”

“That’s why I called you,” Ning Zhe said, as a grotesque demon mask covered his face. “This is the man who chased us. His real name is Yu Zi Qian. Like your husband, he’s from Yongzhou—but he’s a musician. I’ve taken part of his identity. Learned some things.”

Feng Yu nodded quickly. “Tell me.”

“First, you’re lucky. The Te Rang ghost originally belonged to Yu Zi Qian—he paid a heavy price to acquire it.” Ning Zhe said. “Now it’s yours.”

Feng Yu didn’t understand—how could encountering a ghost be considered luck?

Ning Zhe ignored her discomfort and continued: “Ghosts and their anomalies aren’t rare in our world. Bai Zhi’s diary even says: ‘Ghosts are everywhere.’”

“Ghosts are rules. Rules can be cracked and mastered. The first people to master them, feeling they’d gained supernatural power, arrogantly called themselves ‘Ascended Ones.’ Most of them are dead now.”

“Specifically, you and I are both Ascended Ones—even more than ordinary ones, because you control both Te Rang and Ye Yao. Even rarer: these two rules are perfectly compatible.”

“Compatible?” Feng Yu frowned. “What does that mean exactly?”

Ning Zhe smiled. “Simple. Ghosts are rules. Rules are fair. Te Rang’s rule is: ‘Die if your shadow is stepped on.’ You can use it to kill others, others can use it to kill you. Fair enough?”

He pointed behind Feng Yu. “For example, if I now lift my leg and step on the cushion beneath your buttocks, you die. You already know this.”

Feng Yu glanced at the umbrella leaning against the table and nodded.

“Now, let me explain Ye Yao’s ability and flaw.”

Ning Zhe sipped the pre-dinner wine from the crystal glass, found it unpleasant, and continued: “When you killed Yu Zi Qian in the hospital, you noticed his shadow moved independently from his body. That’s one of Ye Yao’s abilities—detaching the shadow from the body. Very sinister.”

Feng Yu recalled the scene and nodded. “Yes. And his shadow looked broken—missing chunks, limbs gone—like a disabled person.”

“Correct. You noticed,” Ning Zhe pushed the glass aside. “Detaching the shadow is merely a side effect. Its core rule is two words: synchronization. Precisely—synchronizing a person’s shadow with their life. … Stand up, Auntie.”

“Okay,” Feng Yu stood obediently. The ceiling light cast a graceful shadow on the table.

“Look—this is your shadow,” Ning Zhe said, extending his hand into the light. “This is mine.”

Then he flicked his finger twice against the tabletop.

“Ah!” Feng Yu shuddered, instinctively clutching her forehead. “It… it…”

“Enough, Auntie. Sit down,” Ning Zhe withdrew his hand. “That’s Ye Yao’s rule: synchronization. I didn’t touch you, but my shadow touched yours—so you felt me tapping your forehead. You can now detach your shadow, slip it through the door crack, and punch the hotel manager’s shadow—hard. He won’t know where it came from. Or you could slit his throat with a fruit knife. No one would know it was you.”

“But all this only works if others don’t know Ye Yao’s rule. You can harm others through shadows—so can they harm you. Just like I just did.”

Feng Yu’s eyes widened. “Te Rang’s ability… and Ye Yao…”

“Very similar, right? And perfectly complementary—like two puzzle pieces, one convex, one concave,” Ning Zhe nodded. “That’s why I said you’re lucky.”

Ning Zhe removed the grotesque demon mask, revealing Yu Zi Qian’s pale, handsome face before Feng Yu:

“Five years ago, Yu Zi Qian was caught in an anomaly in a Yongzhou apartment—the incident reported in newspapers as the ‘Tongxin Street Apartment Gas Explosion.’ Many died… but like the Bishuiwan Villa electrical accident, this was a concealed anomaly—the apartment was haunted.”

“The ghost there was Ye Yao. Yu Zi Qian was the sole survivor. He cracked its rule, mastered his first ghost, joined the Ascended Ones’ network—the ‘Ascension Network.’ His alias there was Ye Yao.”

“Using Ye Yao’s power, he stole corporate secrets, assassinated political rivals and enemies, and earned a fortune. But you already know Ye Yao’s flaw. So let me tell you this: physical injuries can be healed and stitched, but shadow injuries never heal. They remain forever.”

“Over the years, Yu Zi Qian grew more skilled with Ye Yao’s rule, but as a novice, he left too many traces. Several Ascended Ones deduced his weakness. His shadow suffered repeated damage, with no recovery—accumulating wounds that gradually weakened his body, making him thin and frail.”

“Today, he is nearly dead.”

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“So recently, he paid a huge price to buy a ghost from an old Ascended One codenamed Fen Wu—a ghost perfectly matching Ye Yao’s rule, capable of resetting his death countdown.”

“That ghost’s name is—Te Rang.”

Feng Yu listened intently, but Ning Zhe chuckled. “But Fen Wu is a shameless old bastard. He took Yu Zi Qian’s payment, then refused to deliver—instead, he unleashed Te Rang to kill. That’s how the Bishuiwan Villa incident happened.”

“You know what happened after: I cracked Te Rang, you took control. Fen Wu, having taken money but failed to deliver, handed over the list of Bishuiwan survivors.”

“On the brink of death, Yu Zi Qian went mad. He paid another huge price, hiring an Ascended One codenamed Tu Yu to sever the spacetime of the entire Taoyuan City, trapping all survivors in a fabricated world to hunt them down—he needed Te Rang to extend his life… but the hunt failed, and he was killed instead. Now, his Ye Yao is in your hands.”

Ning Zhe spread his hands. “So, Auntie, your luck is truly extraordinary. Most Ascended Ones die from rule backlash without ever finding two compatible ghosts. Ye Yao and Te Rang were Yu Zi Qian’s life’s work—and now they’re yours. Honestly, I’m jealous.”

But jealousy changes nothing. All is fate. Not a single thing is under one’s control.

“This… is really…” Feng Yu’s emotions were tangled. The overwhelming information left her overwhelmed, speechless.

Yu Zi Qian’s story was done—from first encountering the anomaly to becoming an Ascended One, to death. Five short years condensed into this final night of madness, ending as someone else’s inheritance.

The ordinary world had revealed a sliver of its extraordinary truth. Feng Yu felt only bewilderment and sorrow.

Suddenly, a sharp crack snapped her back to reality. She looked up—Ning Zhe was hunched over the table, writhing in pain, the wine glass shattered on the floor.

“Ning Zhe!” Feng Yu panicked, leaping up to his side, gripping his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Ning Zhe lifted his head. His pale face twisted into chaotic features—multiple eyes rolled across his skin; a vivid red mouth split open from his ear, grinning with perfect white teeth; emerald snake scales layered up his neck; fine bird feathers erupted from his pores like spring shoots.

“Ning… Ning Zhe…” Feng Yu’s hand trembled. She felt him transforming into a stranger—a monster.

This sudden change left her helpless. From Hejia Village to Taoyuan City, she’d grown accustomed to relying on this boy who seemed to know everything, capable of anything. No matter the despair, as long as he was near, she felt safe. As long as he lived, everything would pass.

Ning Zhe was the first person to give her security and belonging—the only harbor in an endless storm. But when even this harbor began to twist into something grotesque and terrifying, Feng Yu realized how powerless she was. He had helped her so much—yet she could give nothing back, not even ease his pain. She could only stand by, helpless.

“Auntie…”

Ning Zhe’s clear voice was buried beneath women’s laughter and snake hisses, barely audible—but Feng Yu heard it.

She seized his hands, now transformed into bird talons, trembling: “Ning Zhe, what’s happening? I… I want to help you. No matter what, I want to help you… but I don’t know how. Ning Zhe, what should I do? Ning Zhe, how can I help you?”

Ning Zhe’s bird talons clenched violently, sharp claws piercing her palm, leaving deep bloody holes.

“G… give me… a mirror,” Ning Zhe gasped.

“A mirror? A mirror? I understand, Ning Zhe—I’ll find one right away, Ning Zhe…” Feng Yu ignored the pain in her hand, frantically rummaging in her small purse, pulling out a compact makeup mirror, opening it, and thrusting it before the increasingly monstrous form.

The grotesque humanoid, stitched together from countless features, slowly raised its head. The small mirror reflected a face densely packed with human facial features—eyes, noses, mouths—all different.

“I am Ning Zhe,” Ning Zhe whispered to his reflection.

“I am also Ning Zhe,” he said again.

“We are all Ning Zhe,” all the mouths on his face spoke together.

This grotesque, terrifying sight would shatter any normal person’s mind—but Feng Yu’s gaze held no fear, no dread. Only deep worry and exhaustion.

Slowly, the writhing organs and biological features receded from Ning Zhe’s body. His form lost its monstrous bulk, the twisted creature at the table once again became the calm, serene boy he always was.

Ning Zhe released Feng Yu’s bloodied hand, sitting back and exhaling deeply.

“Are you alright?” Feng Yu didn’t even look at her gushing palm, immediately asking.

“I’m fine, Auntie. For now.”

Ning Zhe closed his eyes. The veins on his temple pulsed faintly. He whispered:

“I just implanted a mental steel stamp: ‘I am Ning Zhe.’”

The tide of Taojiang rises. Today, I finally know who I am.

(End of Chapter)