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墨書 Inktalez
Last night, the long-necked figure that had chased him up two flights of stairs was now reduced to just a head and neck, dragged across the ground by someone in a Black Cloak. Its once red eyes were now dull and lifeless, and its teeth were scattered and incomplete.
"Useless," came the voice from the Black Cloak, indistinguishable in gender. "You can't even catch a single spirit and you were discovered. What a waste from Gui Xu."
It seemed he was scolding the thoroughly dead nightmare. Song Bunan followed their movements, watching as the Black Cloak moved slowly, suddenly stopping as it passed their hiding spot, turning its head as if searching for something.
"Looks like we have a visitor..." The words sent chills down Song Bunan's spine. He clutched Shui Su's neck tightly, daring not to make a sound. Shui Su's hand at his waist tightened, clearly on high alert.
At that moment, Song Bunan placed his hopes on the protective barrier drawn by Shui Su, silently wishing that this figure merely sensed their presence but did not know they were still there. He offered silent greetings to every deity he could think of, including the elven king, Thranduil.
When he opened his eyes again, the Black Cloak was right in front of them. From beneath the dark hood glimmered a pair of green eyes that darted around, yet they did not land on either of them. Song Bunan nearly cried out in fear; he buried his face in Shui Su's neck, feeling immensely grateful that ghostly forms did not require breathing.
The protective barrier proved effective; seeing it could not find them, the Black Cloak continued dragging the nightmare's head away. Shui Su slowly stood up but did not immediately step out of the shadows. He quietly waited for a while, ensuring no one was around before crossing through the barrier.
"That's an old Ghost Messenger," Shui Su said, his tone tense. Song Bunan dared not look around; the sight of those eyes had nearly terrified him to death. They were filled with a sinister mirth, as if they would reach out from the cloak at any moment with tendrils to pierce through them and swallow them whole.
He clung to Shui Su's back, murmuring that he would surely dream of this Black Cloak again, and it would be a nightmare. Shui Su did not move forward but carried him to the safety door on the fourth floor, stating that they should stop here for tonight. The old Ghost Messenger had already sensed their presence; if it returned, they might not be able to escape.
Song Bunan raised his hand in agreement and obediently reached for the door.
However, outside the door, besides the broken staircase, there was also the Black Cloak. A chilling cackle echoed behind them as they saw it slowly drifting down from the third-floor stairs, accompanied by a new nightmare.
Shui Su cursed under his breath and quickly retreated behind the door, running westward. The oppressive feeling from behind surged quickly; Song Bunan could sense something was about to grab him by the nape of his neck. He boldly turned back and collided directly with the grinning face of the nightmare, his nose brushing against its long red tongue that extended from its grotesque mouth.
He couldn't help but scream but was soon overwhelmed by a wave of foul odor that made him gag. Shui Su moved swiftly, but as they neared the window, there was no place to hide on either side.
As two wandering souls, lacking the ability to pass through walls, Song Bunan felt himself trembling, partly out of fear and partly from the effort to suppress his nausea.
"Thirteen minutes is such a long time!" He desperately hoped that Xiao Mei could sense their danger and immediately pull the red string. Shui Su scanned the area for a place to hide or buffer, taking a moment to urge Song Bunan to hurry.
In this regard, Song Bunan trusted Shui Su completely. He turned back to check the distance of the nightmare, but this time he was not confronted by sharp teeth but by the Black Cloak.
A skeletal hand emerged from the cloak and suddenly tightened around Song Bunan's throat during his moment of distraction, easily pulling him away from Shui Su's back. Shui Su reacted swiftly, turning around to strike, but the attack was effortlessly dodged.
The pain of the soul was connected to the body; the sensation of suffocation made Song Bunan instinctively reach for the hand gripping his neck. As his vision blurred, he realized that even though he wasn't looking at Shui Su, he still managed to evade each of his attacks.
"Child, you've chosen the wrong side," the voice from the cloak turned sharp, like countless steel needles piercing his ears, causing Song Bunan to cry out in pain. He could hear Shui Su calling his name, but the powerlessness brought on by suffocation prevented him from responding, and soon a headache followed.
Just as he was about to lose consciousness, a sudden tearing sensation enveloped him; a fragrant aroma surrounded him. At that moment, Xiao Mei's voice thundered above him, jolting him back to reality.
"Get away!" This voice was unlike Xiao Mei's usual tone; it was deep and filled with strength, forcing the Black Cloak to release its grip on his neck. Shui Su seized the opportunity to catch him and turned to crash through the window.
They returned to their bodies. Song Bunan lay on the bed, coughing incessantly; his throat felt dry and painful with a metallic taste of blood. Beside him, Shui Su was in worse condition; that cloak had dealt a heavy blow, striking him in the abdomen with another hand. Though he hadn't regained consciousness yet, blood had already begun to seep from his mouth.
Xiao Mei was startled by this scene and quickly got up to embrace Shui Su, checking his injuries. She saw a horrifying blackened handprint on his abdomen. When Song Bunan staggered over as well, Xiao Mei noticed that he also had a ring of bruises around his neck.
"Shui Su!" Song Bunan hurriedly rummaged through his bag and pulled out a small porcelain vial, pouring its contents into Shui Su's mouth without hesitation. "I thought it was a waste for my godfather to make me bring this; now I really want to bow down in gratitude."
" Exquisite Nectar?" Xiao Mei asked in surprise.
Song Bunan nodded and raised a cup of water, signaling Xiao Mei to help Shui Su drink it. "My godfather said he thought it was too dangerous for me not to carry this. I initially thought it would be unnecessary just in case, but now it seems there are major problems here."
Xiao Mei held the person in her arms, who gradually calmed down. After opening their eyes and weakly stating that they were fine, they fell back into a deep sleep. Once she covered Shui Su with a blanket, Xiao Mei finally had time to ask what had just happened.
"Both of your bodies suddenly started convulsing. I had to grab some incense ash to pull the red string," Xiao Mei said, her hands trembling, the blood marks left by the rope clearly visible. Song Bunan, feeling heartbroken, bandaged her up and recounted what had just occurred. When he mentioned the attack, he noticed the fury in Xiao Mei's eyes.
"This proves that there is indeed a Ghost Messenger directly in that eastern area. Not only do they harbor nightmares, but they also control the Restrictions," Xiao Mei analyzed through gritted teeth.
"It also confirms our suspicions; this place is indeed an important base. However, it will be difficult for us to fully investigate the situation. That Ghost Messenger is formidable, and I feel like I let you down this time." The person on the bed was still unconscious, with traces of blood at the corners of their mouth, filling Song Bunan with guilt.
Hearing this, Xiao Mei punched him lightly, her tone filled with disdain. "What nonsense are you talking about? Even if you weren't there, he would have been injured confronting it. No matter how strong he is, he's just a rookie Ghost Messenger; he's nowhere near as powerful as the veterans. You're injured too; just sleep here tonight. I can take care of both of you without any problem."
Her neck still hurt, but looking in the mirror, she noticed that the marks from the strangling had faded significantly. Song Bunan hugged Xiao Mei for comfort and insisted that he would be fine returning to his side. "I'll leave you the remaining Exquisite Nectar in my bag. If it’s not enough, I can bring another bottle."
Exquisite Nectar was a life-saving medicine concocted by the Jiang Family using knowledge from Ghost Messengers. As long as someone wasn't completely dead and still had a breath left in them, it could bring them back to life. However, this medicine was extremely difficult to make; even Shui Su might not be able to procure a single bottle on a regular day. This time, on the day they confirmed their actions, the family head generously stuffed three bottles into Song Bunan's bag, saying they would definitely need them.
When Song Bunan returned to his dormitory, Xin Yi had not yet finished his shift. He took a shower in the bathroom and spat out a lot of Bloodshot while rinsing his mouth. The connection between his soul and body meant that injuries manifested more severely than direct physical harm; where the Ghost Messenger had choked him was damaged from within.
Preliminary estimates suggested that he wouldn't be able to speak normally tomorrow. With no other choice, Song Bunan turned on the shower for a long and refreshing wash before switching it to cold water to provide himself with a reasonable explanation for potentially becoming mute the next day.
When Xin Yi returned to the dormitory, his first sight was of Song Bunan curled up like a Caterpillar while blowing his nose loudly as if trying to expel his brain matter. Passing by the bathroom and noticing it was damp inside made him think that Song Bunan must have caught a chill while showering.
"Did you take a shower?" He reached out to check his temperature and felt relieved when he confirmed there was no fever. The curled-up figure spoke in a hoarse voice with irritation about the water situation.
"Who runs out of hot water halfway through? I didn't even rinse off all the soap from my head! Just let me freeze to death! Listen to my throat; I'm going to be mute tomorrow."
In truth, Song Bunan regretted it; he should have just taken a quick shower instead of making things harder for himself with cold water. Now it seemed he really had caught a cold—his nose was stuffy, his head hurt, and he wanted to cough but couldn't swallow even saliva due to his sore throat.
Xin Yi prepared hot water and placed it by the bedside, then magically pulled out a small medicine box from her bag. She handed him two cold medicine tablets, suggesting he take them to recover faster.
Ever since they had opened up about their feelings, Xin Yi's tone when speaking to him had become softer than before. Now, sitting by his bedside to care for him was something he had only imagined. Song Bunan felt incredibly happy; he eagerly took the tablets and swallowed them whole, a look of pure joy on his face.
"Are you really that happy to be sick?" Xin Yi asked, tucking the blankets around him, curious about why he seemed so cheerful.
With only his head visible above the covers and without his glasses, Song Bunan looked a bit pale due to his illness, but the beauty mark at the corner of his eye still captivated her. "I am happy," he replied, his voice hoarse yet unable to hide the joy in it. "This is my first time being in a relationship in thirty years."
Xin Yi couldn't help but chuckle at his response. She finally had the chance to observe Song Bunan up close, able to touch and feel him. Without saying anything, she merged their beds together and lay down beside him fully clothed.
This action made him blush instantly; he covered his face with the blanket and murmured that it wasn't appropriate so soon after confirming their relationship. As an adult, Xin Yi naturally interpreted what he meant by "not appropriate." She gently tapped his head and told him not to overthink it.
"Get some good sleep. Tomorrow you'll be fine," she reassured him.
With his eyes closed, he appeared more mature than when awake. Xin Yi attributed this change to Song Bunan's beautiful eyes. She could easily tell whether he was truly asleep or just pretending, so she waited until he had genuinely drifted off before reaching out to touch his face.
The man had a baby-faced charm that deceived others; his skin was smooth, and upon closer inspection, faint freckles adorned either side of his nose. However, from his neck down, his body was merely thin skin wrapped around bones, with wrists so delicate they seemed breakable with slight pressure.
Yet this fragile-looking person could unleash immense strength when danger approached; the bloodthirsty and combative glint in his eyes left a lasting impression on Xin Yi. She had many partners before—most were fleeting encounters that ended after pleasure was shared, as they were merely fulfilling mutual needs.
But with Song Bunan, she desired a long-term connection with this man who worked a job she despised yet captivated her with his complex personality. At least, it all began with their hand-holding.
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