Zhao holds up Shen’s shoulder, and drags him up, arms tangled together, almost in an embrace. Fortunately, even when Shen is drunk, he is still very well-behaved, and doesn’t talk gibberish or frolic like a lunatic.
Zhao wakes himself up, hurriedly takes care of the others, and carries Shen away. He swipes a key card and opens the door to the room next to his. He hesitates, and miraculously decides not to take advantage.
He puts Shen on the bed and has him sit on his own. He looks at Shen’s vacant and bland expression, and can’t help but ruffle his hair lovingly, “If you can’t drink you shouldn’t have helped me, where do I find someone else as silly as you?”
Shen looks up as he messes up his hair, and stares at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
“Wait, I’ll fetch you a towel to wipe your face.” Zhao walks into the restroom, and takes two towels. He soaks one in cold water, and the other one in warm water. As he is about to bring the towels to the drunk cat, he turns around and is startled: Shen has been standing at the door stealthily since god knows when, in complete silence, and with a penetrating leer that shoots right at Zhao.
His gaze has gravity and gloom that exert immense pressure.
Zhao hands Shen a towel, “Here.”
Shen seems rather sluggish, and only raises his hand after a long time. But his hand passes by the towel, and grapples Zhao by his wrist. Aggressively, he pulls Zhao in.
Zhao has long felt something abnormal with Shen tonight, but his attitude towards this turn of events is that of eagerness and enthusiasm. He doesn’t resist at all, and is easily pulled in.
With tremendous might, Shen thrusts him against the wall, and seal their lips together, wrenching, seizing, and gnawing like a wild beast.
Zhao almost instantly tastes blood. His animalistic desires awaken, and with elation, he enclasps Shen’s back. His fingers sneak in beneath Shen’s shirt with dexterity, and seductively caresses his back. The skin he touches is cooler than normal human temperature, like smooth and slushy jade… except this precious gem is clawing and tearing his clothes sadistically.
Zhao lifts up his head in encouragement, and lets him go on a rampage. His one hand extends downwards, and salaciously reaches for Shen’s lower back, exploring inside his pants.
But before he can explore further, his entire body is abruptly lifted up. This takes him by surprise, as his feet dangle in mid-air, and his body turns full- circle rapidly before he falls backwards, landing on to the bed. Shen violently holds him in place.
The bed squeaks. Fortunately, the hotel has soft pillows and thick duvets, so a fall wouldn’t hurt. Zhao “ouches” pretentiously, and wipes blood off the corner of his lips. He chuckles, “Babe, you’re too hot.”
Shen looks down at him. His black irises swirl with an inexplicable, unspeakable, yet overwhelmingly profound affection.
A thin layer of light red surfaces on his face, and under the dim lighting, he looks more handsome than ever. Zhao admires the sight and his heart tingles with sensation. He takes off his spectacles, sits up, and pulls Shen in round his waist. He pulls off his shirt collar, as his hands slide down his body, lighting flames of passion as he slowly unbuttons the shirt. The man’s body is unveiled, pale, but not frail.
The light in Zhao’s eyes darkens as he leisurely kisses Shen’s chest. He says with a magnetic voice, “I was gonna let you go tonight, you asked for this yourself.”
Suddenly, Shen seizes his shoulders, pushes him down, and pounces forward biting on to Zhao’s throat. He locks his wrists in place and holds him on to the bed tightly.
Zhao feels that the man on top of him is panting more vigorously by the minute; it’s like he wants to swallow him whole.
Zhao is rather shocked by how passionate and aggressive he is. The biting is making him uncomfortable, so he laughs and resists a little, “Alright baby, take it easy, you…”
Zhao’s small movements somehow trigger a switch, and Shen goes utterly insane. He shoves Zhao’s wriggling arm behind him, flips him face-down and clutches his nape, as if trying to strangle him to death.
Zhao is forced to look up, and he feels that his old bones are cracking.
Shen weighs his own body downwards and his icy fingers grasps Zhao’s chin. Kisses bombard his face invasively. The lights in the room go off on their own, and in the darkness the only sound is the man’s bellowing and unbearable gasps, like a starving monster.
Zhao’s half-buttoned shirt is ripped apart with a slash.
“Ah… that’s enough, babe…… Shen Wei!”
Though Zhao is aroused, he doesn’t want a drunken and crazed Shen. With great agility, he retracts his arm.
After his bellowing, Shen stops moving all of a sudden. Without a sound, he falls into Zhao’s arms. No movement. The lights go back on in the room.
Zhao struggles to open his eyes in the light, and stretches his agonised shoulder. He holds Shen in his arms. He is not in the mood anymore, and laughs bitterly, “Even when you’re drunk you’re special…”
Zhao’s voice stops midway, and his eyes widen. His intoxication disperses through pores in his skin: he wakes up in terror.
In the silence, he can’t hear Shen’s breathing!
Zhao presses his hand against Shen’s neck. Some ten seconds later. Still no pulse.
Shen’s face is still a little red, but his body looks like a corpse.
“Shen Wei! Shen Wei!” Zhao flips him over and slaps him in the face. There’s no response. He starts performing CPR.
The man lying on the bed is like a mannequin. No matter how hard Zhao tries, there’s no change.
“Fuck!” Zhao jumps off the bed and picks up his phone from the floor. The battery fell out when the phone hit the floor, he puts it back together and calls emergency. Following the doctor’s suggestion, Zhao looks through Shen’s luggage… if he has any long-term illnesses, there must be some medicine.
At this instant, Zhao inadvertently sees his ripped shirt.
From the left shoulder to the lower-right abdomen, a long diagonal opening cuts the thick winter shirt in two. Zhao examines the opening, and realises that it was cut opening by a sharp blade.
Where did Shen get a sharp object?
Zhao was half-drunk and in tremendous shock. Only until this moment does he come back to his senses… a normal human wouldn’t stop breathing and lose his heartbeat so instantly. Even a sudden heart attack has certain symptoms that come with it. But Shen was like the lights in the room: pull a switch and he is instantly turned off.
Zhao looks back at the man lying on the bed, and frowns. He takes out a black leather-covered notebook and walks to the side of the bed. He pulls out a yellow paper talisman from the notebook, and picks up a strand of Shen’s hair. He curls up the talisman with the hair inside, burns it, and lets the ashes fall on to the notebook. Like salt sprinkled into water, they vanish without a trace.
Moments later, a line of writing emerges on a page in the notebook: Great Menace, a soulless person.
Zhao’s expression suddenly turns sombre. He presses one hand on the page, and asks, “Where does this person come from?”
The writing on the page flashes and disappears. After a long wait, another line of words emerge.
“From the depths of Hell, an unspeakable place.”
The look on Zhao’s face tenses up.
After a while, he quietly tidied up the room, and holds his ruined shirt together with a few small pins. He puts his jacket back on.
The ambulance arrives not long afterwards. The others are all astonished, and amidst the chaos, Shen is carried away.
The students all panic in desperation, and Zhao forces them to stay behind. He signals Lin to take care of them, and follows Shen to the hospital.
Shen’s heart is still not beating. The doctors frantically try to save him. Zhao waits aside in silence; he knows that Shen is alright. It’s just that the person who possessed this body has left or fallen asleep temporarily, perhaps due to drunkenness.
He hides his hand behind his back and takes out a summoning talisman. The paper ignites on his palm. Four burnt talismans later, Shen is still unconscious.
Time passes, and the doctors begin to think he is dead.
Zhao concentrates, and ignites the fifth one. He recites in his mind, “Wandering souls, heed my call.”
The third time he recites this, the talisman flashes, and Shen’s body quivers vigorously. Zhao hears someone shouting, “He has a heartbeat! He has a heartbeat!”
He sighs in relief, and hides a handful of ashes in his pocket.
Shen doesn’t seem to be waking up just yet.
Shen is brought to the hospital in the middle of the night, and the doctors run checks on him frantically. And yet, they can’t find anything. Zhao shivers in the winter night: he only called the ambulance stupidly as he was still half- drunk.
Even Brother Lang got the news, and rushes to the hospital. He never thought drinking can get you in hospital. Zhao urges him to go back; that poor fat guy, his face turned green in terror like a cucumber, a shivering cucumber.
When Shen finally wakes up, all sorts of tubes are connected to his body. He struggles to recall what happened, sits up, and begins pulling off the tubes.
“I’m afraid you would have to stay here for a few more days.” A voice comes from the corner of the room. Shen realises Zhao is in the room, wearing a big overcoat and holding a steaming cup.
“Hospital?” Shen is stunned, and his face changes, “I… did I drink too much?”
“Not just too much, your heart stopped beating.”
Shen never thought he would get drunk so easily. He hurriedly searches for an excuse, and Zhao puts the cup aside. “But this is my fault, I was dizzy and only half-conscious, and you scared me. I really shouldn’t have called an ambulance. These few days I would have to trouble you to stay and play along…”
Shen realises something unusual.
Zhao pauses for a moment, and finishes his sentence. He says, “… Your Honour.”