"I know you want to take care of him yourself, but is this really good for the child? The teachers at Peizhi Academy are far more experienced than we are — they have an entire set of scientific methods to help children with rehabilitation training..."
"How do you know I haven't already contacted schools for Xiang Nuan?" There seemed to be something hidden behind the woman's words. "The teachers and doctors at those schools treated Xiang Nuan as an autistic child, but I don't think he's autistic, even though some of his symptoms closely resemble autism."
Chen Ge didn't know how to evaluate this mother. She was perceptive — if his guess was correct, Xiang Nuan truly wasn't autistic. He had simply had something stripped away from him by the Underworld Child.
The child was irritable, rigid, incapable of communication, and permanently sealed off in his own world. His behavior was nearly incomprehensible to ordinary people, and he occasionally lashed out, hurting others and even hurting himself.
He seemed to be in tremendous pain, but in all the world, apart from his own mother, no one truly understood that pain — and even his mother wasn't entirely clear on what he was experiencing right now.
"Xiang Nuan is terrified of strangers. He has a deep, visceral fear of everyone, as though every single person wants to hurt him." The woman went inside and changed into a different base layer. She was holding the previous shirt — the shoulder area was stained red with blood, and it was clear Xiang Nuan had bitten down with considerable force. "I suspected he might have persecutory delusions, but the doctor told me that was impossible. Xiang Nuan hasn't even established the concept of danger, so he can't generate persecutory assumptions."
"Did the doctor tell you how to treat Xiang Nuan?"
"The doctor also recommended I send him to Peizhi Academy, combined with medication, but..." The woman hesitated several times before finally speaking. "Xiang Nuan frequently has sudden episodes over the smallest things — he'll bite, tear apart, and smash everything within reach, with clear aggressive behavior. When other children at Peizhi Academy have episodes, professional teachers can help them recover quickly. But Xiang Nuan is different. All the teachers and doctors are powerless. Aside from administering heavy doses of medication, only I can calm him down."
She placed the bloodied shirt into the washing machine and sighed softly. "I've been to every Peizhi Academy in all of Hanjiang. At first, a few schools were willing to take him, but once word spread about Xiang Nuan's situation, they all gradually backed out. It wasn't that they were afraid he'd hurt the staff or the teachers — they were afraid he'd hurt himself, and then they'd have no way to answer to me. Of course, that might have just been a polite excuse."
The woman and Chen Ge stood in the bedroom. Xiang Nuan sat on the floor, oblivious to their presence, playing with two chopsticks. He placed one chopstick on top of the other, then pulled the bottom one out, repeating this process over and over.
"Significant impairment in verbal communication, repetitive and bizarre motor behaviors, low cognitive function, minimal facial expressions — these are all hallmarks of autism. What on earth happened to Xiang Nuan?" Chen Ge wanted to get to the bottom of this. He glanced around the room. "When you go to work, do you just leave Xiang Nuan home alone? What about his father?"
"His father passed away from illness when Xiang Nuan was very young."
"Sorry."
"It's been several years now. I'm used to it." The woman crouched beside the bed and dragged out a black cloth bundle from underneath. Inside, hundreds of wooden chopsticks were neatly arranged.
"What are you doing?"
"I told you Xiang Nuan is different from other children. He doesn't like toys — he prefers to play with wooden strips and chopsticks. I don't know why. Whenever I'm busy with work, I dump all these chopsticks out, and he'll play with them for an entire day." Watching Xiang Nuan quietly fidgeting with the chopsticks, a smile crept onto the woman's face without her realizing it. "He's actually pretty cute like this."
"How did you discover he liked playing with chopsticks?" Chen Ge was curious about this particular hobby.
"One time during a meal, I grabbed an extra pair of chopsticks and watched Xiang Nuan stick them straight into his bowl of rice, then just stare at them."
"Two chopsticks stuck vertically into a bowl of white rice — traditionally, that's an offering made for the dead on the seventh day after their passing." Chen Ge attempted to interpret it, but all he got in return was an eye roll from the woman.
"Let me say it one more time: I don't believe in any of those ghost stories."
She dumped all the chopsticks around Xiang Nuan and let him play on his own. "Usually when I take him to the reservoir, I bring all the chopsticks out and spread them around the room. I was in too much of a rush this morning and forgot."
Xiang Nuan played alone in the bedroom with the chopsticks, completely absorbed. Chen Ge used the time to ask the woman numerous questions, but gained little from it.
Compared to the other children chosen by the Underworld Child, Xiang Nuan had received no external stimuli whatsoever. His life was simple — he had encountered so few strangers that they could be counted on one hand.
Chen Ge couldn't determine the most despairing thing in this child's heart, which meant he had no way to gain the upper hand in the world behind the door.
That evening, Chen Ge left the woman's home and made a trip back to New Century Paradise.
Tonight was the final night of the Underworld Child's four-star trial mission. Life or death would be decided today.
With his back against the wall, Chen Ge stuffed every malicious ghost employee into his comic book. Aside from the obsessions that had zero combat ability, he didn't even spare the white cat.
"The world behind the door is woven from the door-pusher's memories. The fundamental reason all malicious ghosts appear is because of obsessions, and obsessions themselves are memories imbued with intense emotions. So when someone enters a door, the Red-clothed and the malicious ghosts are bound by the rules of that world. Only by breaking free from the constraints of the memories behind the door can they manifest in someone else's door-world. But the white cat doesn't fall under that restriction — it's just a cat. The rules targeting malicious ghosts behind the door simply can't constrain it."
Normally, Chen Ge felt that the worlds behind doors were far too dangerous, and there was no need to drag the white cat into the risk. Besides, he didn't believe a cat could help him turn the tide. But Ying Tong's door-world had slapped that arrogance right out of him.
Every scrap of help behind the door had to be seized. What's more, the white cat had once devoured the blood silk that the Strange Tales Society had prepared for the Red-clothed. Chen Ge couldn't shake the feeling that this cat's potential hadn't yet been fully awakened.
"You gobbled up the Strange Tales Society's precious blood silk and reaped a tremendous benefit. As the Society's only remaining member, it's not too much to ask for a little help, is it?" Chen Ge fetched a bag, intending to stuff the white cat inside, but was startled to discover that the bag he'd used before was barely large enough anymore. "Have you gotten bigger?"
The moment the white cat saw that familiar backpack, it tried to bolt — but it was a step too slow.
"I knew you wouldn't let me shoulder everything alone."
Carrying a backpack in each hand, Chen Ge left the employee break room. He stepped into the bathroom stall, studying the mirror still bearing faint cracks, then gazing at the stall door sealed shut with wooden planks.
"What will come will come. There's no need to be afraid — fear only unsettles the heart."
After speaking, Chen Ge lowered his gaze to his own shadow. It was pitch black; even with the Yin Eye active, he could see nothing within it.
Ever since swallowing Ying Tong's clay figurine, Chen Ge's shadow had undergone yet another change. Zhang Ya seemed to have stirred, but it also seemed as though she hadn't fully woken yet.
"No point worrying about it now."
Stepping out of the haunted house, Chen Ge stood at the entrance. After a moment's hesitation, he stopped, fished the haunted house's front gate key from his pocket, and placed it on top of the guardrail.
"I've been through life and death with those employees. They're completely trustworthy. Even if something happens to me, they'll probably know what to do."
Chen Ge had taken every malicious ghost employee with him, but the haunted house still held a vast number of residual thoughts and obsessions — the students of Muyang Middle School, the students of the Psychic Ghost School, Xiao Xiao's parents, and others.