Chu'he held the kitchen knife, stunned for a long moment. "Huh?"
"I... I've fallen for someone else."
Chu'he's eyes widened. "Huh?"
Song Tieniu struggled to speak, but he didn’t want to keep Chu'he in the dark. Forcing himself to continue, he said, "I’ve realized my heart belongs to another. I’ve been unfaithful to you—this is entirely my fault. As a husband, I’ve been disloyal. As a father, I’ve failed to set a good example for our child. As a human being, I’ve lacked integrity and shame."
"I’ve wronged you both, so... you should kill me!"
His words were clear, his expression resolute. His moral compass was so strong that he genuinely believed he didn’t deserve to live and must atone with his life.
A beautiful wife who devoted herself to their home.
A sweet, innocent child who clung to him daily.
How could he betray such a perfect, happy family?
He truly deserved death!
"Let me atone with my life!"
Chu'he was backed against the wall step by step, clutching the knife in confusion before finally snapping out of it.
"If you like someone else, you should’ve just said so!"
She tossed the knife aside, wiped the cold sweat from her brow, and sighed in relief.
Now it was Song Tieniu’s turn to be stunned. "Huh?"
Chu'he said, "Actually, I like someone else too."
Song Tieniu: "Huh?"
After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Song Tieniu and Chu'he sat side by side on stools. Their eyes met briefly before they awkwardly looked away.
Song Tieniu took a long time to process everything. "So... Chongyang is yours and Ninth’s child?"
Chu'he nodded. "Mhm."
"You and Ninth have been involved for a while?"
Chu'he lowered her head, embarrassed. "Mhm."
Song Tieniu let out a slow "Oh." "I see."
He couldn’t help but touch his head, checking for an imaginary hat, then slowly lowered his hand.
He gave a dry laugh. "Hah, of course. Chongyang looks so much like Ninth—they’re obviously father and son."
Chu'he picked at her nails, too ashamed to speak. "This is my fault."
"No, the fault is mine." Pain flashed across Song Tieniu’s face. "I’m dull and unromantic—it’s no wonder you didn’t love me. If I’d realized sooner that your heart belonged to another, Chongyang wouldn’t have gone so many years without knowing his real father."
Chu'he: "..."
Was this man too righteous for his own good?
Song Tieniu said, "I’ll draft the divorce papers now. We’ll ask the Village Chief to witness it tomorrow morning, then sign."
Chu'he hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly. She said sincerely, "Brother Song, you’re such a good man!"
She ran out excitedly. "Ninth! Ninth! I can get divorced!"
The red-robed, white-haired youth was dangling Chongyang upside down by one foot when she suddenly threw herself at him. He stumbled forward a step, then looked down at her radiant face, his own eyes sparkling.
"So you can marry me now?"
"Yes!" Chu'he clung to his arm, overjoyed—until she glanced down and saw the upside-down child. Her eye twitched.
She grabbed his ear. "You’re bullying Chongyang again!"
Ninth hunched over, yelping. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry!"
Song Tieniu stood at the doorway, watching the lively scene. Unconsciously, a smile touched his lips.
"They really do look like a family of three."
Chu'he still felt guilty toward Song Tieniu. Early the next morning, she told him to rest while sending Ninth to fetch the Village Chief as a witness.
Ninth grumbled but obeyed, grateful Song Tieniu wasn’t clinging to Chu'he.
Chu'he sat in the room, studying the divorce papers Song Tieniu had written, then rubbed her head.
The calligraphy was bold and powerful, with an extraordinary vigor.
How could a mere hunter write like this?
A breeze carried a faint floral scent through the window.
Chu'he sniffed, then turned in surprise to see a figure in the room.
"Miss Lan?"
Lan Yingying had appeared silently, standing behind Chu'he for who knew how long. She smiled faintly. "Sister-in-law."
"Don’t call me that. Today, Brother Song and I are divorcing."
Lan Yingying frowned. "Divorce? Why?"
"Because he likes someone else, and so do I."
"You... like someone?"
Assuming she’d come with Song Chunming, Chu'he moved to pour tea—but Lan Yingying spoke again, her tone complicated.
"Even without your memories, you still remember loving Chunming?"
Chu'he froze. "Huh?"
After a conflicted pause, Lan Yingying steeled herself. "I’m sorry, Miss Chu."
Suddenly, she struck Chu'he’s neck with a knife-hand chop.
But Chu'he remained standing, unharmed.
She rubbed her unbruised neck. "What are you doing?"
Lan Yingying was stunned. A moment later, she tried again, striking the other side.
Chu'he still didn’t fall.
"Miss Lan, I’m getting angry!"
Though unhurt, Chu'he sensed danger and turned to call for Song Tieniu—when a cloud of pink powder blew into her face.
The fragrance hit her nose, and instantly, her head spun.
Lan Yingying caught her, only to feel a sharp pain—a green snake had darted from nowhere, its fangs piercing her skin. Dark veins spread rapidly.
Poison!
She flung the snake away and swallowed an antidote, but it only slowed the toxin. Black tendrils still crept from the wound, grotesque and terrifying.
Ignoring it, she carried Chu'he out the window.
At the village center lay a bottomless pool.
Lan Yingying gazed at the unconscious woman, guilt twisting her features. "I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but to protect Chunming, I have no choice. If you must hate me, come back as a vengeful ghost and take my life."
Steeling herself, she pushed.
Water splashed. Chu'he sank into the depths, the ripples fading to nothing.
Ninth hurried back, dragging the Village Chief by the collar. The old man swayed dizzily as Song Tieniu steadied him.
"Chu'he, I’m back!"
Ninth rushed excitedly into the room, rubbing his uncomfortable neck again. Instead of seeing Chu'he, he was met with a small green snake coiled around a book, swaying its head and hissing aggressively at him.
"What? Big Brother and Sister-in-law are getting divorced?"
Song Chunming was utterly shocked. In his eyes, his elder brother and sister-in-law were deeply in love, a couple with an exceptionally strong bond—how could they possibly be separating?
Song Tieniu nodded, but the shadow in his heart made him feel too ashamed to face his younger brother, Song Chunming.
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through.
Song Chunming was violently slammed against the wall by an overwhelming force. As his back throbbed in pain, a hand clamped around his throat, cutting off his breath in an instant.
A red-robed youth with snow-white hair, ghostly in appearance, glared at him with eyes brimming with near-maddened fury.
"Speak. Where has your woman hidden my Ah'he?"
The moment she was thrown into the pond, Chu'he regained consciousness. She expected to be swallowed by icy water, but the chill never came.
The surface of the water seemed like nothing more than an illusory barrier. Once she passed through it, her body continued to plummet without resistance.
As she fell endlessly, Chu'he braced herself for a fatal impact. Instead, she crashed through layers of branches, desperately shielding her head. The rustling foliage slowed her descent until she finally landed on a pile of dry leaves and twigs, sending dust flying into the air.
It took her a long time to recover her strength. Pushing herself up with trembling hands, she accidentally grasped something cold and hard. In the dim light from above, she realized she was holding a fragment of a human thigh bone. With a shriek, she flung it away.
Then, more and more skeletal remains came into view.
Some bones were scattered in disarray, while others, still clad in tattered clothing, retained their intact forms. They were tangled in vines, as if these eerie plants had drained them of flesh and blood.
All around her, black vines sprawled densely, adorned with ghostly purple flowers in full bloom.
There was something unsettlingly familiar about these unnatural growths.
"Mother…"
A faint, childlike voice called from the depths.
Unable to resist, Chu'he wiped the grime from her face and cautiously took a few steps forward.
The further she went, the more bones she saw—men and women, young and old, their clothing weathered by time.
"Mother…"
"Mother."
The voice grew clearer.
Chu'he hesitated, but when she lifted her gaze, the sight before her left her utterly horrified.
Deep within, the black vines bore not flowers, but clusters of purple "fruits"—if they could even be called that. They were grotesque, membrane-wrapped spheres, twisted and malformed.
Some bulged with what resembled a hand, others a foot, and a few had even sprouted half-formed human shapes—torsos, limbs, or just one side of a body. They hung densely from the thick stems, their translucent skins revealing tangled veins, as if something alive writhed inside.
The most chilling sight was near the roots: a half-formed "child's head" slowly opened its eyes—
Those pupils were clouded, devoid of life, yet they fixed unblinkingly on Chu'he as the lips parted weakly.
"Mother."
Was this some unknown plant’s evolved mimicry to lure prey? Or had real children been consumed, their flesh fused into this monstrous flora?
Chu'he didn’t know.
In that moment, her mind and sanity teetered on the edge. Cold sweat drenched her clothes, every hair on her body standing on end.
