Wu Sheng sat beside Wu Jinpeng and cried without stopping, as though he wanted to let out every last tear he had accumulated in his heart over the years.
His small hands gripped Wu Jinpeng's clothes, his face full of grievance. He wanted to say something, but every sound that came out of his mouth turned into a sob.
"Did you have a nightmare? It's all right — Dad's here with you." Wu Jinpeng held Wu Sheng close and gently patted his back.
The father and son leaned together, and Chen Ge let out a sigh of relief. He rubbed his knees and slowly walked out.
As he lifted the curtain, the black phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. Chen Ge pulled it out, swiped the screen, and opened the latest unread message.
"Four-star trial mission — Nether Embryo: 2/9 complete. The Nether Embryo can no longer curse you through sound. Fortunate favored of the Red Cloth, your time is running out!"
"Curse through sound? You mean as long as it hears me speak, it can use my voice to curse me? Isn't that ability of the Nether Embryo just too terrifying?"
In Chen Ge's understanding, curses required a medium — to curse someone, you needed their hair, nails, or worn clothing, and at the very least some form of physical contact. But the black phone's message overturned everything he had believed. The Nether Embryo could curse a person simply by hearing their voice.
This ability was only what the black phone had revealed. If the Nether Embryo could become a malevolent god, its powers were certainly far beyond this. Even with a Red Cloth protecting him, Chen Ge no longer felt safe. "The opponent has too many tricks. You could fall victim to one without even realizing it. No wonder the black phone said that once the Nether Embryo is born, my death is certain."
The crying from behind the curtain had woken Wu Jinpeng's younger brother, who was sleeping in the living room. He clutched a broken fan and stared at Chen Ge with a look of fear.
At first, Chen Ge didn't pay much attention, but after being stared at for a while, something began to feel off. "Why do you keep looking at me? Did you see something on me?"
Hearing Chen Ge's voice, Wu Jinpeng's brother grabbed a thin blanket and pulled it over his head, looking as though he were about to burst into terrified tears.
Wu Kun was seven or eight years younger than Wu Jinpeng. Being treated this way by a man in his thirties made even Chen Ge feel somewhat uncomfortable.
"You're afraid of me?" Chen Ge walked toward Wu Kun, but before he even got close, Wu Kun tremblingly extended both hands.
"The fan… the fan…"
Wu Kun held the broken fan in both hands, half-kneeling on the ground, his body shaking nonstop.
"You want to give me the fan?" Chen Ge sat down in front of Wu Kun. As he reached to take the fan, he noticed Wu Kun's injured hand.
Something felt wrong. Why did he keep saying "fan"? What was he trying to say? Chen Ge hadn't seen Wu Kun anywhere in the door world behind Wu Sheng either. As his own father's younger brother, there was no way Wu Sheng had absolutely no memory of him.
Chen Ge returned the fan to Wu Kun. It took a long time before Wu Kun slowly calmed down.
"What are you afraid of?"
Chen Ge got no answer. Ten-odd minutes later, the curtain was pulled aside and Wu Jinpeng turned off the small lamp beside Wu Sheng's bed.
"Is Wu Sheng doing better?"