Wild Boar Cub
The woman smiled and asked, “Why do you keep staring over there? Is there something there?”
She looked over as well, slightly puzzled.
But they couldn’t see the forest.
Lu Congxing quickly realized this. Without showing any change in expression, he shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
Was even being pulled into the painting by the painted woman part of that voice’s plan? Then what does it want him to do next?
The feeling of being manipulated like a puppet filled him with disgust. He wanted to break free from this orchestrated cycle. First, he had to figure out what exactly it wanted from him.
So far, it seemed like it wanted him to uncover some secret hidden in the forest. Lu Congxing’s steps, which had been heading toward the forest, came to a halt.
He did nothing—just stood there and waited quietly.
Sure enough, someone was more impatient than him.
The voice in his mind returned. This time, it asked in a low, cold tone, “Why aren’t you going in?”
“Aren’t you curious? Curious about what’s inside?”
When Lu Congxing didn’t respond, the voice no longer screamed or urged him forward. Instead, it changed to a flat, emotionless tone, like it was simply stating a fact: “You’re waiting for him. He’s not coming.”
This time, Lu Congxing responded. He said quietly, “He will.”
The voice fell silent, probably angered by his unyielding attitude.
That surprised Lu Congxing a little—the voice seemed to have a particular dislike for He Zhouyan.
The woman was hurrying home to cook for her kids. She pointed to a house and said to Lu Congxing, “That’s my home. If you get hungry later, come by and have a bowl of porridge.”
It seemed she didn’t quite trust Er Lai.
The people in this village were genuinely warm and welcoming, and there were no signs of anything sinister so far. Lu Congxing smiled and nodded, accepting the kind offer.
Not long after the woman left, Er Lai came back carrying two bowls. Both were filled to the brim with noodles, topped with generous scoops of chili oil that made them look and smell incredibly appetizing.
Er Lai handed the bowl with more chili oil to Lu Congxing and grinned. “Good thing you’re here. Word got out that someone rare came to visit me, and everyone in the village got curious. Normally, they’d never give me such a full bowl.”
“Thanks.” Lu Congxing took it, but still didn’t eat.
Er Lai was already wolfing his down, squatting on the ground without the slightest concern for manners.
Between slurps, he glanced up at Lu Congxing, thinking to himself that people from the city really were more refined.
The group of kids who had shown them the way earlier had quietly gathered again. They ran over, chirping and staring at Lu Congxing with curiosity.
They wanted to play with this big brother, but none of them dared speak up first. Instead, they all just stared at him with big, bright eyes.
Lu Congxing looked at the dirtiest one standing at the front—the leader—and asked, “Didn’t your mom say she was going home to cook for you?”
Another runny-nosed kid burst out laughing and pointed at him. “Your mom’s so mean. If you don’t go back, she’s gonna spank your butt!”
The other kids joined in, clapping and chanting, “Spank your butt! Spank your butt!”
“Don’t say that!” The little leader, now red with embarrassment and anger, smacked the teasing kid.
The moment turned into chaos as the kids scattered with shrieks and laughter.
Lu Congxing squatted down and gently patted the little leader’s head, smiling warmly. “Go eat first. After you’re done, I’ll come play with you, okay?”
“Okay!” The kid’s eyes lit up, though he looked a little shy.
It was his first time meeting someone who looked so clean, and also the first time an adult had looked at him so kindly. He didn’t feel like a clueless little kid being brushed off.
As he walked away, he kept turning back every few steps, reluctant to leave. Even from far away, he waved enthusiastically.
The rest of the children also ran home for dinner, buzzing with excitement about the promise of playtime. Even their footsteps were lighter, like little birds flitting through the village.
Seeing Lu Congxing still not eating, Er Lai assumed he was embarrassed to eat outside, so he brought him back inside.
Sitting at the table, Er Lai rubbed his hands nervously and asked a few tentative questions.
Lu Congxing picked up on his cues and responded tactfully. Surprisingly, the two of them actually got into a decent conversation.
Through the talk, Lu Congxing saw through Er Lai’s intentions. He wasn’t as bad as the woman made him out to be—he didn’t really want to take advantage of an orphan’s money—but he was trying to test the waters for a bit of a free ride.
Just as Lu Congxing was about to steer the conversation toward the forest, a scream rang out from outside.
“Fire! Fire!”
“Run!”
“Water! Where’s the water!? Why isn’t it working!?”
Er Lai and Lu Congxing jumped to their feet and rushed outside.
What they saw was a sky lit ablaze—the fire had painted half the sky red, sending black smoke billowing upward.
Er Lai’s eyes turned red in an instant. Panicked, he bolted toward the nearest house and kicked the door open, yelling, “Is anyone in there!?”
But what he found were two people completely engulfed in flames. One of them, desperate and disoriented, stumbled into a well and went silent.
The other rolled on the ground, screaming in pain. Er Lai immediately tore off his own shirt and began frantically beating the flames out.
But it was completely useless.
Lu Congxing withdrew a fire-suppressing talisman, his face dark with frustration.
The fire wouldn’t stop.
Just like the small flame he carried—it couldn’t be extinguished. But unlike his, this fire attacked indiscriminately, devouring everything in its path.
He stood there as if watching a tragedy that had already been written, helpless to intervene, left only to be a miserable spectator.
Even water was useless against it. Before long, even Er Lai’s house was engulfed. Not a single home in the village was spared.
Suddenly, Lu Congxing remembered something and took off running toward the river at the edge of the village.
Across the river lay the forest—the very place where the strange fire had started. Now, it was a raging sea of flames.
The river had dried up, yet he still couldn’t cross it.
He turned back in despair, only to see the child who’d just been making plans to play with him fall in front of him, completely engulfed in flames.
The child lifted his head and looked at him. “Big brother… help me…”
Those were his last words. By the time Lu Congxing reached out and took his hand, the child was already gone.
His entire body had been charred to the point of carbonization—barely human in shape.
In the span of a single meal, the peaceful village had turned into a living hell.
Er Lai, who had always been dismissed as lazy and good-for-nothing, yet was actually silently helped by everyone, had gone mad. He ran from house to house like a man possessed, desperate to save even just one person.
With red, tear-filled eyes, he shouted at the top of his lungs until, finally, he collapsed to his knees, clutching a child tightly as they burned together.
Just before the smoke ruined his voice completely, he rasped out in anguish, “Why? Why!?”
No one could answer him.
He fixed a hollow, devastated stare on Lu Congxing.
In less than ten minutes, the entire village was gone.
There were no malevolent ghosts in this scene, yet every villager had died with their eyes wide open.
Unwilling to rest in peace.
The air reeked of burnt flesh and wood. Not even the village dogs had survived.
Lu Congxing stood in the ruins, head lowered, his expression unreadable.
A voice sighed softly, almost with pity: “If you had chosen the forest back then, they wouldn’t have died.”
The malice in those words felt like a blade twisting through the boy’s heart—telling him, plainly, that the people of this village had died because of him.
“Who are you?” Lu Congxing’s expression darkened.
The voice continued as if it hadn’t heard him: “Even though you discovered me earlier than expected, to prevent more sacrifices, you’ll have no choice but to follow my path and become the person I want you to be.”
The voice unfurled in the air, layer by layer, with a godlike authority.
Lu Congxing suddenly lifted his head, eyes rimmed red, and said through gritted teeth: “You’re the one who killed them.”
The voice answered, like a hypnotist: “No. I gave you so many clues. You knew there was something wrong with the forest, but you insisted on going against me. This is what happens when you oppose me. I created you…”
It sounded like a disappointed elder scolding a rebellious child—but laced with a sharp, chilling edge.
Every word made Lu Congxing’s skin crawl. He tried to move, but his body was frozen in place, forced to stand there and listen.
The light in his eyes slowly dimmed.
In a haze, he saw over a hundred corpses from the village gather around him. Their scorched faces turned toward him, empty sockets staring. At the front stood Er Lai, the children, and the women.
They asked, “Why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you listen?”
One of the children suddenly opened his mouth wide and screamed: “It’s all your fault! We died because you didn’t listen!”
Lu Congxing wanted to argue, but the will to resist was being ground down by the voice echoing in his head.
Even though he knew it was brainwashing him, he couldn’t move—he could only endure the torment.
The flames never touched him, yet every inch of his body felt like it was being burned alive.
The noise around him grew louder and more chaotic. Accusations came from every direction, even familiar voices.
They all spoke in unison, same tone, same voice: “Why didn’t you listen?”
It felt like sinking into a bottomless swamp.
Just as he was about to lose consciousness, he saw a massive white beast tear through the sky with a thunderous roar—shattering lightning beneath its feet and radiating a fierce, divine aura.
The voice that had been tormenting him vanished the moment the beast appeared, leaving behind only the warmth of a protective embrace.
. . . . .
It was only a fragment of He Zhouyan’s soul that had arrived—because the painting was meant for ordinary humans, it couldn’t withstand the presence of his original form.
After gently pulling Lu Congxing out of the painting, he immediately returned to his body and rushed toward the place where the boy had first disappeared.
From He Zhouyan’s perspective, the cub had only vanished for two seconds. But he had instantly noticed something was wrong and gone searching.
Yet the state of the boy’s mind told a different story.
Bai Ze could barely contain his fury—he looked like a wrathful ghost risen straight from the underworld.
Meanwhile, Lu Congxing opened his eyes to find himself out of the painting, back in the same red hallway. The disturbing organ paintings still hung on the walls, but the malevolent ghost and the girl had vanished. The paintings were now just ordinary art, stripped of any lingering resentment.
His spiritual energy, stirred into chaos by everything that had just happened, surged violently within him. He barely managed to stand before—plop!—he transformed into a fluffy little creature and fell to the floor.
Now lying there was a fuzzy baby wild boar with a distinct pattern on its back—if you looked closely, it resembled a furry little sunflower seed. Every part of him ached, and he could only let out weak little whimpers.
Hurried footsteps approached.
When he looked up, he saw He Zhouyan rushing toward him with a cold expression. But the moment their eyes met, the sharpness in He Zhouyan’s gaze softened. The overwhelming killing intent around him dissipated in an instant.
“Ji!”
Lu Congxing’s body moved faster than his mind—before he could even think, he’d already latched onto He Zhouyan’s pant leg, clinging to him for dear life.
Touching porcelain!
Author’s note:
In the next chapter, Xing Cub is going to find out his cover’s been blown, Xing Cub Is Mad.jpg
Also, this baby wild boar isn’t just any baby boar—it’s seriously cute and super fluffy!