Lian Zhen stepped into the living room quietly, wiping his hands on a towel. His gaze drifted toward Shen Lian and Zhao Liren standing near the photograph. His expression softened, a sad smile curving his lips.
"You found that photo."
His eyes lowered, voice gentle but trembling.
"He is my father."
The sentence landed like a stone in still water.
A shockwave.
A silence.
The air thickened.
Shen Lian froze.
Zhao Liren blinked rapidly.
Even Qin Yuelin paused near the doorway.
Only Wen Jun's expression stayed perfectly still. Not a flicker. Not a twitch. He simply observed the boy, as if measuring his heartbeat, his breath, his lies.
Lian Zhen looked between them slowly.
"You know him?"
Before Shen could answer, Wen Jun spoke for him.
"Shen Lian knows him. He is a detective."
Wen Jun tilted his chin toward Shen, silently telling him to introduce himself. Shen only nodded awkwardly. Lian Zhen's shoulders relaxed as if that explained something.
"Well… are you hungry? I can make something."
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned and walked into the kitchen with the soft steps of someone used to being alone.
The house creaked. The smell of rot hung stubbornly in the air, clinging to the walls like old memories that refused to leave.
Wen Jun sat down on the couch and leaned his head back, closing his eyes like someone who hasn't slept in years.
Zhao Liren settled beside him carefully.
"You must be tired?"
Wen Jun didn't answer. Didn't move. He could have been asleep… or simply somewhere far inside his own mind.
Shen Lian sat on the opposite end of the couch, shoulders tense, eyes flicking repeatedly toward the kitchen. Something about Lian Zhen felt off to him. Too soft. Too sad. Too perfect. Like a mask made of skin.
Qin Yuelin, however, drifted toward the kitchen as if pulled by invisible threads.
He stopped at the threshold.
Lian Zhen stood at the counter, cutting vegetables rhythmically. Smooth strokes. Calm breathing. A quiet hum escaping his lips like a forgotten lullaby.
Yuelin opened his mouth to ask something.
Then he froze.
On the kitchen counter, beside the cutting board, was something red. Thick. Dark. Matte. The color of dried organs.
His voice trembled.
"What… what is that…"
Lian Zhen didn't turn around.
"It is ketchup. You can wait outside with the others. The food will be ready soon."
His tone was too smooth. Too fast. Too prepared.
Yuelin swallowed, stepping back. His eyes lingered for a moment longer… but he forced himself to obey and return to the living room.
He glanced at the clock.
It was almost seven in the morning.
The horizon outside was glowing gold behind the trees.
The forest looked breathtaking.
Mist curling around trunks.
Light dancing over dewdrops.
Birdsong layered like a morning hymn.
Yuelin stepped outside. He wanted air. The smell inside felt heavy, oppressive, wrong.
Shen Lian noticed him leaving and nudged Zhao.
"Yuelin is going into the forest alone."
That was enough to make both of them get up and follow. At first with playful grins. They wanted to scare him, jump from behind a tree, laugh together like old friends.
But the moment they reached him…
Their smiles vanished.
Because the forest was reacting to Yuelin.
Birds circling above screeched sharply.
Squirrels darted away, fur bristling.
Even the gentle breeze seemed to twist violently around him.
A cat...thin, gray, trembling...approached Yuelin cautiously. But when Yuelin bent down to touch it…
It hissed. Arched its back. Claws flashing as it struck toward him.
Yuelin jerked his hand back, startled… but not afraid. Not the way he should be.
And the crows.
Shen Lian watched in confusion as a murder of crows landed on Yuelin's shoulders. Calm. Settled. Like they belonged there. Like they recognized him.
Zhao, on the other hand, felt his stomach twist.
Yuelin had always been terrified of crows.
Terrified of birds.
Terrified of being touched by anything that flapped.
Shen reached forward, placing a hand on Yuelin's shoulder to scare him.
But instead of jumping…
Yuelin spun around and shoved him...hard. His eyes wild. His breathing sharp and unsteady like something feral had cracked open inside him.
Then...just as fast...his expression melted back to softness.
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to."
His voice was trembling.
Too innocent.
Too confused.
Shen and Zhao shared a quick glance, forcing awkward smiles, pretending nothing was wrong.
"Let's go back," Zhao said gently.
They walked toward the house just as Lian Zhen called them from the doorway.
"The food is ready."
Wen Jun was already at the dining table, sitting perfectly straight, eyes on the plates. He hadn't moved since they last saw him. The silence around him was heavy… like the air itself feared touching him.
They sat one by one.
Lian Zhen served the dishes.
Warm. Steaming.
A fragrant aroma filling the room.
Yuelin frowned immediately.
He had seen vegetables being chopped.
Vegetables on the counter.
Vegetables in the sink.
But now the plates held meat.
Thick slices. Tender texture.
A strange color. A rich smell.
Zhao tasted it first.
"Mmm~ it's so good."
Shen lian nodded and began eating too. Even Yuelin took a bite, confused but too tired to question.
Wen Jun didn't touch his plate.
"I don't eat non vegetarian food."
Lian Zhen paused. His smile faltered. His jaw twitched ever so slightly.
"I… I can make something else."
"No need," Wen Jun replied quietly. "We will leave soon. My car is arriving."
He said it without looking up. Without blinking.
Zhao stood up a little while later, stretching.
"I'll get some water."
He walked toward the kitchen without warning Lian Zhen.
He shouldn't have.
He opened the fridge.
His eyes widened.
His breath stopped.
His hand flew to his mouth as a scream clawed its way up his throat...
But a hand covered it.
Wen Jun's hand.
Cold. Firm. Silent.
END OF THE CHAPTER.