Chapter 3
At five in the morning, Mu Cheng woke with a start from her sleep. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, jumped out of bed, walked to the door, and stared at the calendar hanging there. She murmured, “I’ve been possessed.”
It was normal to dream after falling asleep. Even if the sensations in the dream felt immersive, she could barely accept that. But having similar dreams at a fixed time? That was a little hard to explain.
The date on the calendar showed July 9, 2019.
It was not any special day. The only thing different was that on the 9th of every month, Mu Cheng would have that dream—lying on a hospital bed, injured all over, in unbearable pain, unable to speak or move. Occasionally, she could open her eyes, but it was extremely difficult. And another thing was that Zhong Yingzhi was there every single time.
Mu Cheng looked at the date on the calendar, nodded, and came to a definite conclusion. “I really have been possessed.”
Xiao Xiaoli rubbed her eyes, her messy mushroom haircut sticking up in all directions. Having been woken up, she was full of morning temper. “You haven’t been possessed. You’re having a fit. It’s so early in the morning. What are you trying to do?”
Mu Cheng blinked at her, smiled, revealing her shallow dimples and cute little tiger teeth. “Get up. Come somewhere with me.”
She dragged Xiao Xiaoli out of bed. “Isn’t there a small temple beside our school? Come on, come on. Go with me. I have to get this evil driven away. This is too strange.”
Xiao Xiaoli was still dazed. Half-asleep and half-awake, she was dragged out by her. In the end, they arrived too early, and the temple had not even opened its doors yet.
The temple’s main gate was made from wooden planks pieced together. The door knockers on both sides were rusty, fallen leaves had piled up in front of the entrance year after year with no one cleaning them, and spiderwebs clung to the plaque above the door.
Zhukong Temple.
This temple was built beside the school, forming a stark contrast with the school’s splendor. It looked bleak and dilapidated.
Mu Cheng stood in front of the tightly shut gate, sizing it up as she fell into thought.
Xiao Xiaoli only took it as her acting crazy. She yawned and said, “It should open soon. You can slowly wait here. I’m going across the street to buy a bun. What filling do you want? I’ll bring you one.”
Mu Cheng shook her head. “I’m not in the mood to eat buns right now.”
Xiao Xiaoli clicked her tongue twice. “Then keep going crazy. Day after day, I really don’t know what kind of nonsense you’re trying to stir up. Don’t eat, then. I’ll eat by myself.”
After saying that, Xiao Xiaoli ran across the street to buy buns. At the same time, the worn wooden plank gate let out a creak.
The door opened.
A bald man with a fat head and large ears walked out from inside. He wore gray monk robes, with Buddhist prayer beads hanging in front of his chest.
He was clearly a monk, yet in his hand he was very oddly holding a roasted chicken drumstick. Oil stained his mouth. As he ate, he even let out a full burp. He swayed as he walked, and the fat on his belly jiggled up and down along with him.
The temple was in ruins, and the monk looked not very “proper” either. Mu Cheng instantly started to retreat in her heart. Even if she wanted to drive away evil, she should go somewhere a little more reliable.
“Benefactor has come to seek an interpretation of a dream?” The monk seemed to have foreseen everything. Before Mu Cheng could say anything, he had directly guessed her purpose.
Mu Cheng’s eyes widened in astonishment.
The monk sucked on the chicken bone, smacked his lips, and casually tossed the bone into the pile of dead leaves before the door. “This poor monk’s dharma name is Zhukong, the same as this little temple. I am the owner of this temple. If Benefactor has come seeking an interpretation of a dream, then there is no need to go inside. The dream you seek to interpret is not a dream.”
He only said things halfway, leaving the listener muddled. Mu Cheng asked doubtfully, “Master Zhukong, what do you mean by that?”
Zhukong carelessly wiped the oil from the corners of his mouth with his sleeve. “Your fate carries killing misfortune. Your life will be full of hardships. You will not come to a good end. If the way you die is wrong, then even after death, you will enter hell to be punished.”
Not come to a good end? Enter hell to be punished after death? This monk’s words were truly pleasant to the ear. No wonder the temple was run-down to this extent. With him talking like this, it was already pretty good that his temple had not been smashed.
Zhukong said, “Nine years from now, you will walk down a road of no return. If you want to change it, perhaps this is an opportunity. At the right time, directly turn the direction of the road, and you can avoid a great deal of misfortune. A dream is not a dream. The you in the dream is the you nine years from now.”
Mu Cheng’s brows furrowed slightly. “You mean what I’m having isn’t a dream, but that I’ve transmigrated to nine years later?”
“You don’t believe me?” Zhukong looked at her with a smile that was not quite a smile.
They were clearly such absurd words, yet Mu Cheng could not help believing half of them, because the scenes in the dream were truly far too real.
Zhukong lowered his head and pressed his palms together. “Because we have fate, I offered you a few words of guidance. Benefactor, please go back. I have said all I can.”
Mu Cheng still wanted to ask more, but when she looked again, the person before her had actually vanished into thin air, as though he had never appeared at all.
Mu Cheng looked around in shock, rubbed her eyes, and nearly thought she was hallucinating. How could a person who had been standing in front of her one second suddenly disappear?
“What are you looking for?” Xiao Xiaoli walked over from across the street with buns in her hand. “Eat. I brought you a meat bun.”
Mu Cheng asked urgently, “Did you see a monk just now? A fat, chubby one.”
“A monk?” Xiao Xiaoli shook her head blankly. “What monk? The temple doors aren’t even open.”
“How could the doors not be open? Someone clearly walked out and spoke to me just now…” Mu Cheng looked up toward the temple doors, and the words she was about to say got stuck in her throat.
The doors were tightly shut. They really had not opened.
Xiao Xiaoli stuffed the bun into Mu Cheng’s mouth. “When I was buying buns across the street just now, I looked back and saw you standing here talking to yourself alone, acting all crazy. I beg you, after you finish eating this bun, please return to normal. Okay?”
Things were developing in an increasingly strange direction.
Inconceivable.
Taking ten thousand steps back, even if Zhukong had truly appeared, and what he said was true, then why would the her nine years later jump off a building? Why would she get depression? What was even stranger was, why was the person keeping watch at her hospital bed not her parents or relatives, but Zhong Yingzhi?
Every time she recalled the way Zhong Yingzhi had curled up beneath the railing after she jumped, whimpering and crying in suppressed anguish, her heart would inexplicably ache.
Why would this person, who was completely at odds with her, cry so sorrowfully after she jumped? No matter how Mu Cheng thought about it, she could not figure it out.
Everything was a complete mess, impossible to sort out or see through.
Mu Cheng went to the temple several more times afterward and asked the people there, but she always received the same answer. Including the abbot, there were only five people in the temple, and every single one of them was thin and weak. There was no fat-headed, big-eared monk at all, nor was there anyone with the dharma name Zhukong.
That monk seemed not to exist.
…
“Cough, cough, cough.” A violent coughing sound rang out.
Hearing it, Mu Cheng looked back toward the opposite side. The person sitting in front of the desk was bent over, covering her mouth as she coughed. It seemed she had caught a cold.
Mu Cheng opened her drawer and dug out the cold medicine she always kept on hand.
She looked at the cold medicine in her hand, then at Zhong Yingzhi coughing across from her, hesitating and thinking for a moment.
Mu Cheng stood up, walked to her side, and handed the medicine to her. “If you’ve caught a cold, then stop staying up late to study. This cold medicine works pretty well. You can try it.”
Zhong Yingzhi’s hand, which was holding a fountain pen, paused. Her gaze temporarily pulled away from the book. She glanced at Mu Cheng, her pale blue eyes full of distance.
Mu Cheng touched her nose. “Don’t think too much. I’m just afraid that if your cold gets worse, you’ll infect me.”
Zhong Yingzhi did not speak, her expression icy.
Mu Cheng had not expected her to say thank you anyway. She placed the medicine on her desk, turned around, and walked away.
Zhong Yingzhi swept a glance over the cold medicine, then withdrew her gaze again without taking it.
When Mu Cheng got up in the morning, Zhong Yingzhi had already left the dorm. The cold medicine on the desk still remained in its original place, completely untouched.
Mu Cheng curled her lip, not very happy.
In the afternoon, after finishing class and returning to the dorm, Zhong Yingzhi still had not come back. The cold medicine on the desk was still in the same spot.
At night, Zhong Yingzhi was still not there, but it seemed she had returned at some point. There were some changes on the neat surface of her desk, only those changes successfully angered Mu Cheng.
Zhong Yingzhi had finally taken cold medicine, but she had not taken the medicine Mu Cheng gave her. Instead, she had bought another one herself. That, in itself, did not matter. Everyone’s constitution was different, and perhaps she simply could not take the kind of cold medicine Mu Cheng had given her. After all, one should not maliciously speculate about others.
But the important point was that the cold medicine Zhong Yingzhi bought was the exact same brand as the cold medicine Mu Cheng had given her.
The exact same medicine. She would not take the one Mu Cheng gave her and insisted on going out to buy another one herself. The simple message Zhong Yingzhi was giving was: I despise your cold medicine.
Mu Cheng rolled her eyes, grabbed the cold medicine from the desk, and took it back. “What, is the cold medicine I gave you poisonous or something? Fine, fine, fine. If I ever meddle in other people’s business again, I’ll slap myself across the face.”
One day later.
Xiao Xiaoli pushed Mu Cheng’s shoulder. “Is Yingzhi okay? She’s been asleep for a whole day. I saw her coughing pretty badly before. Could she have a fever?”
Mu Cheng’s hand paused while playing the game. She pursed her lips and said, “What does that have to do with me? Let her do whatever she wants. Don’t mention her to me. Just bringing her up makes me angry and affects my mood for gaming.”
Though she said that, Mu Cheng no longer had any heart to keep playing. Irritated, she tossed her phone onto the desk.
Xiao Xiaoli asked, “What, did you lose the game?”
Mu Cheng did not answer. Instead, she raised her hand and slapped herself heavily across the face with a sharp “pa.”
Xiao Xiaoli froze, then laughed in amusement. “Are you crazy? If you lost the game, then you lost the game. Why are you slapping yourself?”
Mu Cheng stood up. “I’m just that cheap, huh? Way too cheap. I want to meddle in other people’s business again. I deserve this slap.”
After saying that, she crossed the room in a few quick strides and came to Zhong Yingzhi’s bedside. Through the bed curtain, she asked irritably, “Are you okay?”
There was no response. Mu Cheng pressed her lips together and frowned, then lightly lifted the bed curtain.
The person on the bed had both eyes tightly closed, her face flushed, her forehead covered in fine sweat. The brownish-gold hair by her temples was damp.
Mu Cheng’s heart jolted. She reached out to check Zhong Yingzhi’s forehead. It was very hot. “What the hell, your fever is this bad?”
She no longer cared about anything else. She carried Zhong Yingzhi onto her back and staggered as she tried to take her to the infirmary.
On the way to the infirmary, the person on her back woke up.
“Put me down.” She struggled, her voice icy. “Do you hear me?”
Mu Cheng was too lazy to pay attention to her and quickened her steps. “I’m exhausted carrying you on my back. Don’t be here biting the hand that feeds you. Once we get to the infirmary, I’ll naturally put you down.”
Xiao Xiaoli followed beside them and also helped persuade her. “Yingzhi, stop being stubborn. Your fever is really serious. You need to go to the infirmary and get a fever-reducing injection.”
Zhong Yingzhi’s brows and eyes sharpened, and her voice turned even colder, commanding, “Are your ears deaf? I told you to put me down.”
Mu Cheng snapped, “Then I am deaf. Stay still and shut up!”
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