HTCYH Ch 27

Chapter 26: Child Bride

Tu Si quietly nestled against Wuming’s shoulder hollow, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. He felt hideous—far too hideous. In this state, he didn’t want anyone to see him.

Wuming noticed this detail. As they drew closer to the cluster of houses, Tu Si’s trembling grew more intense. So, Wuming lightly patted Tu Si’s back and carried him into the forested mountains until he found a concealed cave. The moment they arrived, Tu Si darted inside, cocooning himself up and even sealing the cave entrance so that Wuming couldn’t come in.

Wuming looked at the sharp, spiked tendrils guarding the cave entrance. After a soft sigh, he pulled out his phone, tapped a few times on the in-game store of Ascension, and soon, a loose, comfortable sports outfit materialized before him. He held the clothes out toward the tendrils, which quickly coiled around the bundle and stuffed it into the cave. Their hands were greedy enough to take things, but never polite enough to say thanks. Just like that, they blocked Wuming outside without any acknowledgment.

But Wuming wasn’t angered. He raised his hand, gently tapped the little spikes, and said softly, “Daytime is safe. Rest well for now. I’ll go discuss the clues with the others and then come back to share them with you, alright?”

No response came. But Wuming didn’t need one. He simply whispered toward the little tendrils at the entrance: “Please keep him safe. I’ll bring you more good food when I return.”

The tendrils clearly understood. The sharp spikes swayed twice, revealing their anticipation.

Wuming waited a moment longer before turning and leaving.

Inside the cave, Tu Si collapsed—breaking down, venting, calming himself, and finally falling into silence.

A long time later, once he had completely settled down, he picked up the clothes Wuming had given him. From inside to out—shirt, pants, shoes—everything was complete. The fabric was soft and comfortable, the size just right. Other than the style resembling a student’s uniform—loose, shapeless, and unflattering—there was really nothing to criticize.

Changing into the clothes, Tu Si looked at how the wide pant legs completely covered his unsightly prosthetic. He stared blankly at the cuffs for who knows how long. When he finally lifted his head, he suddenly noticed a half-naked girl, about twelve or thirteen, standing before him, silently watching. Her semi-transparent body told Tu Si she was nothing more than a fractured soul.

Tu Si, now in a state of self-loathing and resignation, immediately averted his eyes. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to analyze whether this presence was dangerous. He had already tied one of his avatars to Wuming’s hand to ensure he wouldn’t completely die. Now, he felt so disgusted with this body that he almost wished to abandon it. Leaning against a protruding rock, he closed his eyes and asked flatly, “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

The girl froze, then stammered: “I—I don’t have a name. They all call me Liang Tiancai’s fiancée, or shameless ***… and ***.”

Hearing the filthy, degrading words she called herself, Tu Si frowned. “Stop! I get it. So, what do you want? Revenge? Liang Tiancai is already dead. Do you want me to dig up his corpse so you can whip it?”

The girl shook her head in confusion. “Ah? No! I want my child! They cut the child out of my belly, and I can’t find him.”

Tu Si was stunned. His eyes snapped open, fixing on the girl’s face. Are you even speaking Chinese right now?!

He had thought Liang Tiancai was just another scumbag, but this—this man had murdered and cut open a girl. That wasn’t even “worse than an animal.” Even beasts didn’t kill their own offspring!

“How old are you?” Tu Si pressed.

The girl shook her head. “I don’t know. Sometimes Liang Tiancai said I was eleven, sometimes sixteen. It depended on the price.”

Tu Si ground his teeth, cursing furiously: “That bastard! Dying was far too cheap for him! Your child might be somewhere… did you try to look for it?”

She shook her head again, then lifted her gaze toward a certain spot. “I was bound. I couldn’t leave.”

Following her line of sight, Tu Si’s curses spilled out uncontrollably, dragging Liang Tiancai’s ancestors through eighteen generations of insults.

On the cave wall, a dried corpse had been nailed up. Its arms and legs were stretched into a cross shape, pinned with strange rune-carved wooden stakes. Smaller stakes sealed the eyes, ears, and mouth. The abdomen had been cut open and peeled flat against the rock like a wool carpet.

Tu Si approached, estimating the corpse’s size and bone age. It was a girl, no taller than 148 cm, about fourteen years old. He bit his lip, then turned to the soul and asked softly, “Do you want me to take your body down?”

The girl nodded. “Thank you! What do you want in return?”

Tu Si lowered his eyes, avoiding her body. After a pause, he forced himself to speak gently: “Nothing. You’ve already told me your story—that is the greatest gift I could receive. I should be the one thanking you.”

The girl frowned, studying him for a while, then said, “You’re a strange person.”

Tu Si pulled up his pant leg with a self-deprecating smile. “Because I’m not human.”

The girl looked at the tendrils for his leg. She had noticed them when he entered but hadn’t studied them closely. Now, seeing the pale flower buds at their tips, she reached out. Her fingers passed through them, but her eyes brightened. “So pretty! In the forest, I often looked for dodder vines.* Their seeds are really valuable.”

Tu Si chuckled. “Thank you for the compliment.”

With that, he limped toward the corpse. Chanting the Great Compassion Mantra under his breath, he began removing the stakes.

The wooden stakes didn’t hold much sealing power—clearly the work of an untrained but malicious hand. Yet the constant desecration of the corpse had prevented the soul from moving on. If the spirit had been full of resentment, this ritual would have fueled its growth into a powerful vengeful ghost.

The nature of good and evil was never contradictory. Humans were born with both. Society merely acted as a catalyst or shackle. Even if an angel were raised in hell, it would still be an angel—but such angels never received kindness, only endless torment and humiliation. In hell, humans didn’t deserve to be good, and angels were destined to be wiped out.

Tu Si carefully lowered the corpse, laid it onto a tendril-woven carpet, and began stitching the torn-open abdomen shut, using the thinnest threads of his tendrils.

The soul girl sat cross-legged nearby, silently watching. After a long time, she suddenly said: “Your man is back.”

Tu Si blinked in confusion, then turned his head. Moments later, he heard Wuming’s voice. His lips parted, but words stuck. He pursed them shut again, lowering his head in awkward silence.

After gathering important clues from the others, Wuming had hurried back. At the cave entrance, his voice was soft, tentative: “I’m back. Tu Si, did you get some rest?”

A pause. Then, from inside, the girl’s voice rang out: “Did your man do something wrong? You’re ignoring him because you want to dump him and find another guy?”

The voice wasn’t loud, but Wuming clearly heard it too. His words caught in his throat, his mind full of question marks.

Tu Si wanted to burrow into the ground from embarrassment, but there was no escape. He simply withdrew the guarding tendrils and pretended nothing had happened, continuing to stitch the corpse.

When Wuming crouched into the cave, he saw Tu Si bent over the body with his sewing, and the girl’s soul nearby. Smiling, he nodded politely to the girl, though his gaze never lingered on her.

The girl’s eyes lit up when she saw Wuming. Looking between him and Tu Si, she teased, “Your man is really handsome.”

Wuming’s smile stiffened, but he quickly recovered, answering warmly: “Hello. I’m Wuming. And you are?”

This time, Tu Si jumped in quickly: “She was Liang Tiancai’s child bride. No one gave her a name. The Kuman Thong is her child.”

Wuming showed little surprise. He nodded lightly, then crouched beside Tu Si, glancing at the stitching progress. Picking up one of the wooden stakes, he studied it carefully. “What a chaotic, messy seal.”

At his fingertip, a white flame flared to life. The stake vanished in fire, leaving not even ash. Then he asked the girl, “Do you know your date of birth?”

She shook her head.

“Then may I take a strand of your hair? I’ll burn you some clothing and incense.”

She nodded.

Wuming took a strand from the corpse’s head. Chanting under his breath, he burned it instantly, then pulled out a notebook, scribbled symbols, and tore off a sheet. Folding it into paper clothes and talismans, he tossed them into the air. Red flames flared, turning into wisps of green smoke that drifted to the girl. She held out her hands and received a set of striped white clothes. Inhaling, she let the green smoke seep into her. Her eyes shone. “So fragrant, so delicious!”

Wuming smiled. “I’m glad you like it. Try the clothes—if they don’t fit, tell me.”

After changing, the girl brightened instantly, twirling with joy. “Ah! This is the most beautiful outfit I’ve ever worn!”

At that moment, Tu Si had just finished his stitching. Looking up, he saw the girl in a white dress patterned with notebook lines, spinning with arms raised, her skirt blooming like a flower.

For the first time, he really observed her. Her face was plain—sunken eyes, low nose bridge, but a small tip of a nose. Her eyes were phoenix-shaped, long and narrow, her lips somewhat thick. Not pretty by usual standards. Yet when she smiled, her eyes curved like crescents, dimples appearing, and suddenly she looked dazzling, full of life.