The Creatures That We Are

Chapter 936: Enjoy the Holidays

Lying Wood's words sent a ripple of unease through the room. The air grew thick with tension once more.

Gao Yang let the anxiety build for three precise seconds before adding, "But very unlikely."

War Tiger stroked his stubbled chin and snickered. "You can hold a grudge, Little Yang Yang."

Gao Yang merely smiled. You aren't the only one who can make a dramatic pause.

"Why though?" Hong Xiaoxiao leaned forward, earnest curiosity in her voice.

"That..." Quiet Book's voice softened with memory. "Sister Sunny told me that every time she made a curse with Blood Curse, it shortened her life by a few months to a few years. Cursing multiple targets at once would shorten her life less than cursing them one by one."

War Tiger's snort cut through the air. "You should know that it's not up to her who she's cursing and how many times she's going to apply the curse, Quiet. If she had any say, I believe she wouldn't have used her Talent even once."

Quiet Book lowered her head, grief and anger warring in her chest. The thought of Qilin forcing Sunny to use her curse twisted something inside her. She should have been more insistent when Zhong He left the Union; she should have dragged Sunny with them.

"Gao Yang's basing his guess on something else." War Tiger grinned. "Once Sunny used her Talent, it would alert us whether it succeeded or not. Then we wouldn't give the Ocean River Union another chance to do the same. Everyone knew we had Hong Xiaoxiao on our side, our personal cheat code."

Hong Xiaoxiao's cheeks colored at the strange analogy and praise.

"So, it would be most ideal to curse everyone they could curse during the New Year holidays, when everyone was most unguarded."

"Think about it. Had Hong Xiaoxiao not been prepared, we might not have noticed Fat Jun's body until a day after."

"What a fucking vile old man he is!" Zhang Wei's curse echoed off the walls. "He's the one who deserves death the most!"

"Nicely said." War Tiger nodded with satisfaction. "We should help him with that."

Gao Yang surveyed the room with quiet pride, like a parent watching their children grow. "I have nothing else to say. I'll be on my way."

"Be careful on your way there, Captain Gao," Lying Wood said, concern lacing his voice.

War Tiger's thick eyebrows shot up mockingly. "Are you hearing yourself, Lying Wood? You're talking to the Divine Scion, owner of Lucky, a freak who jumped between organizations, human radar for Rune Circuits, the bane of all spies, and master survivalist! And you are worried about him?"

A melancholic smile touched Gao Yang's lips before he retorted, "It seems that Talents aren't the only things getting passed down."

After a beat, War Tiger burst into laughter. "Hahaha, you brat!"

As Gao Yang donned his coat and tied his hair, preparing to leave, a voice called out.

"Wait!" Gao Xinxin appeared in the living room doorway, wool scarf in hand. She approached on tiptoes to wrap it around his neck. "Keep this on. It's warm here. I don't need the scarf."

"It's fine. What if I break it..."

"You dare?" Gao Xinxin's glare contrasted with her gentle hands as she adjusted the scarf. After a few seconds, she stepped back with a satisfied nod. "Hm, good. You may go."

...

After Gao Yang's departure, Hong Xiaoxiao restlessly checked on everyone before heading to Zhong He's bedroom. The room had once been shared between Zhong He, Lying Wood, and Thick Earth. Now Thick Earth lay dead after the Qingyang Bridge battle, and Lying Wood, having comprehended Sleepless a few days ago, rarely returned. He needed almost no sleep now, and Zhong He's depression and perpetual cloud of alcohol had driven him away.

Hong Xiaoxiao squared her shoulders and opened the door with purposeful efficiency. She flicked on the light, her nose wrinkling at the mess and stale smell of alcohol that greeted her.

Empty bottles littered the floor of Zhong He's room. Through the mess, Hong Xiaoxiao found him slumped in a chair, back turned, clutching a half-empty bottle. His pajamas hung loose on his frame.

“Zhong He.” Hong Xiaoxiao weaved her way to the man. “Do you feel unwell in any way?” Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The harsh overhead light made him flinch. He raised a hand to shield his bloodshot eyes, dark circles stark against his pale skin. His unkempt beard and greasy hair spoke of days of neglect. When he finally looked up at Hong Xiaoxiao, his gaze slid past her as if she were a ghost.

"Sunny may curse us with the blood we left on the battlefield. For now, Adept Horse, Dead Pig, and Zhang Wei have been hit." Her voice remained steady, professional. "So I have to confirm your condition."

Zhong He responded by taking another long pull from his bottle.

"Please don't make my work hard for me," Hong Xiaoxiao pressed.

The silence stretched until finally, his voice came out deep and hoarse: "I'm fine."

Hong Xiaoxiao released a silent sigh. At least he was still speaking.

She had initially agreed with Liao Liao's perspective—some battles needed to be fought alone. If Zhong He needed help, he would ask. But days had passed, and his spiral continued. Perhaps this drinking, this silence, was his way of crying out.

If you find me annoying, fine. I'm still going to be nosy.

“Hold this.” Hong Xiaoxiao took another hairpin out. She could’ve shoved it into Zhong He’s pocket, but she didn’t. Instead, she held it before Zhong He, waiting for him to take it.

Zhong He remained motionless, head bowed like a broken puppet.

"Take this," she repeated. The pretense of duty gave her courage. This wasn't about throwing herself at his walls; this was work. As long as he refused to cooperate, she could keep pushing, keep trying—

Bam! The door crashed open.

Hong Xiaoxiao nearly jumped out of her skin, hastily pocketing the hairpin. She turned around to see War Tiger at the door.

"I-I'm checking on him..." she stammered.

"Leave it." War Tiger cut her off. "Come on. Let's go."

"Huh?" She blinked. "Now?"

"Yes. Hurry."

"Oh, right."

With a final glance at Zhong He, Hong Xiaoxiao followed War Tiger to the living room. Her eyes widened at the gathered crowd—everyone except Zhong He and Adept Horse had assembled. Dead Pig stood like a mountain, Vermilion Bird's wheelchair attached to his back, Lovely Lamb and Wang Weiyan perched on his broad shoulders.

"Are you feeling okay now, Uncle Dead Pig?" Hong Xiaoxiao couldn't keep the worry from her voice.

Dead Pig's chuckle rumbled through his nose. "Just about. And I have your hairpin, right?"

War Tiger clapped from the entryway, his energy filling the room. "Everyone, the New Year holidays should be enjoyed in festivity. Cute Little Lamb and Yanyan want to watch fireworks. We adults should grant them that little wish, shouldn't we?"

“Uncle Tiger,” Lying Wood said worriedly. “We risk getting exposed with so many people moving together. Why don’t we have Hong Xiaoxiao take the girls while staying invisible...”

“Why?” War Tiger looked dissatisfied with the proposal. “The kids want to watch the fireworks. And I want that, too!”

“But...”

"Enough already," War Tiger's voice brooked no argument. "Nothing is more important than enjoying the New Year!"

"Lying Wood." Mischievous Monkey chuckled. "He said that, but he must be doing this because he's certain it'll be alright."

A smile finally broke across Lying Wood's face. "True."

Around the room, worried expressions melted into tentative hope. After days confined within these walls, the promise of fresh air beckoned, especially on this night when the whole world celebrated. The weight of their circumstances seemed to lift, if only for a moment.

War Tiger swung his arm with theatrical flair. "Follow me!"