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墨書 Inktalez
As she waited, Lan Qingqing repeatedly checked her Medical Report. She tried to find the chances of curing her condition through various search engines, but none of them provided the answer she sought. Not even a single miracle case appeared in her searches.
She began to grasp the feeling of impending death; time seemed to slow down, yet her anxiety only intensified. Standing in front of the mirror, she looked at her reflection—neither fully human nor ghostly. This face was not fit for public view; her skin was pockmarked and devoid of color, and the scars from her surgeries were glaringly obvious. It was as if her entire being bore the marks of surgery, with wounds that had yet to heal already giving way to new scars.
Her bare face was hard to look at, much like the facade she had constructed for herself. She took out her phone, feeling an emptiness inside and wanting someone to talk to. However, after scrolling through her contacts and WeChat friends list, she found no one who could keep her company.
She located Hou Yi's WeChat and considered messaging him. Although it was unlikely he would respond, she still held a fondness for him—the charmingly roguish Hou Yi, who embodied the perfect partner she had imagined in her heart. She sent a sticker but received only a red exclamation mark in return; she had been blocked by Hou Yi.
Surprisingly, she felt no anger this time—only a sense of resignation. Perhaps it was because she knew her time was limited; getting upset seemed pointless now.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang—it was the Nanny with the child. The Nanny entered with the baby in her arms, who was crying loudly. She quickly placed the child on the sofa and turned to Lan Qingqing, urging her to open the bag she had brought along, which contained Diapers since the baby likely needed changing.
Soon enough, Lan Qingqing caught a whiff of a foul and peculiar odor that nearly made her gag; the smell of an infant's waste was surprisingly potent. The Nanny swiftly took care of it, and as Lan Qingqing watched the two-headed creature lying on the sofa, she found that her disgust had lessened.
The Nanny spoke up, "Did you bring the child here because you missed him? Or do you want to take him out to buy some supplies? Yesterday Mo Xian mentioned giving me money to buy some food for the baby."
Lan Qingqing dismissed her concern, saying, "I'll give you money; you can shop at the market yourself. Just leave the child here with me. Come back after you're done."
She transferred some money to the Nanny's account. The Nanny found it strange that Lan Qingqing—who had never accepted this child before—was now willing to take care of him herself. With a hint of skepticism, she left the house.
The baby began crying again. Lan Qingqing leaned closer and pointed at his little face. "I warn you—if you keep crying, I’ll spank you until you can’t sit! Look at you—a two-headed monster! You're truly ugly! But it's also fascinating; your two heads don’t even look alike."
As she observed closely, he resembled Ke Wenjie more than ever, which only fueled her disdain further.
Lan Qingqing straightened up and let out a long sigh as she stared at the now quiet child. "Once I deal with Ke Wenjie and Hua Rongxiao, I’ll take you with me into death. Dying alone is too lonely; a creature like you would only be scorned in this world—it’s better off dead."
She returned to her bedroom and retrieved a live-streaming stand from her closet. Setting it up in the living room and adjusting various angles, she recalled how Tong Le had inspired her. She believed she could use live streaming to convey her voice without having to step outside for safety reasons while confronting Hua Rongxiao. She refused to believe that she couldn't outsmart Hua Rongxiao.
Of course, relying solely on her face wouldn’t suffice for streaming; Tong Le had his own popularity and didn’t worry about traffic. She was different—she would have to resort to extremes.
She had the nanny bring the child home, and just the sight of the Two-Headed Monster Baby was enough to make her go viral. She had her own selfish motives and wasn’t afraid of embarrassment; after all, they were all destined to die, so what was there to fear? She could accept death, but she couldn’t accept defeat or humiliation. Even if she had to die, she wanted to do so with dignity.
With her phone set up and the live stream started, she aimed the camera at the child’s two heads, capturing every bit of its grotesqueness. At first, there was no traffic, but as time went on, more and more viewers entered the live stream. Upon seeing the bizarre Two-Headed Monster Baby, they began to linger and even shared the stream.
The viewer count continued to rise. With Lan Qingqing’s strange, altered face on display, she didn’t even need to speak to attract countless viewers. People were inherently curious; those who were different from the norm naturally drew attention and controversy.
As Lan Qingqing glanced at the harsh comments in the chat, some mocked her, others expressed sympathy, and some said it served her right. They claimed it was irresponsible parenting that led to such a child; others suggested that a lack of virtue resulted in this outcome; and there were those who pitied both mother and child.
Gradually, some viewers began sending her gifts. The money came in quickly and abundantly, which surprised her greatly. She suddenly realized that earning money could be this easy—by showcasing her pain and ugliness for public scrutiny and discussion, she could receive continuous rewards.
What kind of psychology was this? She truly couldn’t understand. But she didn’t care; after all, they were all facing death. Who would care about such comments?
As the number of viewers increased, she began to introduce herself and talk about her entanglements with Tong Le, Ke Wenjie, and even Hua Rongxiao. She wanted to escalate the drama; she could no longer wait for Tong Le’s covert investigations or strategies. Calculating her time left—if luck was on her side, perhaps two months—she decided to play all her cards. If she couldn’t have a good life, then neither would anyone else.
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