After Zhou Yuan left, Lin Mu stood there for a long time.
That red heart had vanished around the corner, but its image was burned into his brain—fist-sized, surface covered in fine veins, every beat seeming to seep blood.
"Host," the trash can whispered. "What are you staring at his back for?"
"I'm thinking about something."
"What?"
"Zhou Yuan hated me just now," Lin Mu said, looking down at the trash can in his hand. "But did you see the smile on his face?"
The trash can blinked. "Saw it. Looked pretty sincere."
"Right." Lin Mu turned the porcelain bottle over in his hands. "Sincere smile, genuine hatred. If this guy went into acting, he'd win Best Actor."
The trash can's lid lifted slightly, as if in thought.
"Host, you mean—"
"I don't mean anything." Lin Mu stood up, dusting himself off. "Let's go. Back to sleep."
"Huh?" The trash can was stunned. "That's it? We're not investigating this Zhou Yuan?"
"Investigate what? Go ask him right now, 'Hey, are you poisoning me?' You think he'd admit it?" Lin Mu started walking toward his lodgings. "What's the rush? Since he's made a move, he'll definitely make a second one."
"So we just wait?"
"We wait." Lin Mu yawned. "And while we're at it, we'll earn back the 200 emotional points you swallowed on that lucky draw."
The trash can fell silent.
Back in his room, Lin Mu lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and slept.
It had been a long day.
Transmigrating, binding a trash can, getting hated by dozens of people, winning a passive skill from a lucky draw, discovering someone was trying to poison him...
He needed a break.
He fell asleep quickly.
And slept deeply.
In his dream, he saw countless red hearts floating densely in the air, like a vast red cloud. They beat together, making a "thump thump thump" sound that rattled his brain.
"Host! Host!"
Lin Mu's eyes flew open.
Outside, it was already dark. The trash can crouched by his pillow, lid wide open, its two little eyes wide as brass bells.
"What's wrong?"
"Something's happened!" The trash can's voice was very low. "Someone came by just now. Left something on your windowsill."
Lin Mu sat up and looked at the window.
In the moonlight, a paper package lay quietly on the sill.
He walked over and opened it.
Inside were several pieces of pastry.
"Who left it?"
"Don't know." The trash can shook its head. "I was asleep, woke up when I heard something, but the person was already gone. But..."
"But what?"
"But I could feel it—the person who left the pastry had strong malice." The trash can's lid trembled. "That malice was stronger than anyone you encountered today."
Lin Mu stared at the pastries.
They looked ordinary, like the osmanthus cakes commonly found in the cafeteria.
"Poisoned?"
"Not sure." The trash can moved closer and sniffed. "Can't smell anything. But if someone sneaks over in the middle of the night to leave something, it's definitely not out of kindness."
Lin Mu was silent for a moment, then rewrapped the pastries and tucked them into his robe.
"Let's go."
"Where?"
"Find Zhou Yuan."
The trash can was stunned. "Now? In the middle of the night?"
"Exactly because it's the middle of the night." Lin Mu pushed open the door. "He gave me pills during the day, and someone sends pastries at night. You don't think that's too coincidental?"
The moon was bright.
The outer disciples' quarters had all gone dark, only the distant Enforcement Hall still showing a few lights. Lin Mu followed the path he'd taken during the day and crept near Zhou Yuan's place.
It was a separate cottage, nicer than those of ordinary outer disciples. The windows were dark, the door shut.
Lin Mu crouched in the shadows outside, staring at that door.
"Host, what are you planning?"
"Wait."
"Wait for what?"
Lin Mu didn't answer.
He stared at the door, the original owner's memories flashing through his mind. The original owner had known Zhou Yuan for three years. All that time, Zhou Yuan had been very considerate—bringing food, bringing pills, helping with missions. The original owner had told people more than once that Zhou Yuan was his best friend in the sect.
Best friend.
Lin Mu laughed coldly.
Just then, a light flickered before his eyes.
It came from Zhou Yuan's room. Not lamplight—a faint, grayish-blue light seeping through the cracks in the door, like mist.
Then Lin Mu saw something.
Something floated out through the door cracks. Fist-sized, shaped like a heart—but not the red kind from earlier.
This one was grayish-blue.
Dull in color, its surface covered in cracks like parched earth. It beat slowly, and with each beat, tiny fragments flaked off its surface, falling to the ground and turning to ash.
"What's that?" Lin Mu whispered.
The trash can poked its head out of his robe, looked, then retreated back inside.
"That's hatred," the trash can said. "But not ordinary hatred. It's the kind... buried deep for a long time, fermented, gone bad."
"So?"
"So this Zhou Yuan's hatred for someone has lasted a very long time." The trash can paused. "And the person he hates should be nearby."
Lin Mu's gaze fixed on Zhou Yuan's door.
That grayish-blue heart floated in the air, tilting slightly in one direction—
Exactly where Lin Mu was crouching.
"Damn." Lin Mu's heart skipped. "It's looking at me?"
"Not looking," the trash can said. "Sensing you."
The words had barely left its mouth when Zhou Yuan's door opened.
Zhou Yuan stood in the doorway, a robe draped over his shoulders, his gaze fixed directly on the shadow where Lin Mu hid.
"Junior Brother Lin?" His voice carried just the right amount of surprise. "So late, what are you doing here?"
Lin Mu stood up, plastering a smile on his face.
"Senior Brother Zhou, couldn't sleep, out for a stroll. Just passing by. You're not asleep either?"
Zhou Yuan walked over, a warm smile on his face. The grayish-blue heart above his head moved with him, beating faster.
"I heard something outside, came to check." Zhou Yuan stopped in front of Lin Mu, his eyes settling on Lin Mu's face. "Junior Brother Lin, you don't look well. Too tired during the day?"
"I'm okay."
"By the way, did you take those pills I gave you?" Zhou Yuan asked with concern. "How were they?"
Lin Mu smiled.
"Haven't taken them yet. Senior Brother Zhou, what are those pills for?"
"Qi supplements," Zhou Yuan said. "I noticed you've been low on energy lately, so I specially refined them."
"Senior Brother Zhou knows alchemy?"
"A little." Zhou Yuan smiled. "Can't compare to the masters in the alchemy hall, but simple Qi-supplementing pills I can manage."
Lin Mu nodded, pulling the porcelain bottle from his robe.
"Senior Brother Zhou, would it be alright if I don't take these right away?"
Zhou Yuan blinked. "Why?"
"Because I just discovered someone sent me a package of pastries in the middle of the night." Lin Mu pulled out the pastry package. "Two things appearing together—I'm worried about problems."
Zhou Yuan looked down at the pastries, his expression unchanged.
"Who sent these?"
"I don't know." Lin Mu stared into his eyes. "I was wondering—could it be some enemy trying to harm me?"
Zhou Yuan was silent for two seconds.
In those two seconds, the grayish-blue heart above his head suddenly contracted.
"Junior Brother Lin, you're overthinking it." Zhou Yuan laughed. "You're an honest, simple person. What enemies would you have? These pastries were probably left by someone kind. Don't overthink it."
"Really?"
"Of course." Zhou Yuan patted his shoulder. "It's late. Go back to sleep. If you don't trust those pills, just hold onto them. I'll swap them for another batch another day."
Lin Mu watched his hand fall on his shoulder, felt the warmth of that touch.
That grayish-blue heart floated half a foot above his head, beating faster and faster, more and more fragments flaking off, falling to the ground and turning to ash.
"Alright." Lin Mu tucked the items away. "You get some sleep too, Senior Brother Zhou."
He turned and walked back.
After a dozen paces, he stopped and looked back.
Zhou Yuan still stood at his door, watching him go. Moonlight stretched his shadow long, like a twisted snake.
That grayish-blue heart was still beating.
"Host," the trash can's voice came from his robe. "Did you feel it?"
"What?"
"In those two seconds just now, Zhou Yuan was thinking something."
"What?"
"He was wondering why you're not dead yet."
Lin Mu said nothing.
He kept walking back, neither fast nor slow, like someone who really had just been out for a stroll.
Back in his room, door closed, he sat on the edge of the bed, placing the porcelain bottle and pastry package on the table together.
"Trash can."
"Here."
"You said the original owner was poisoned to death. The toxin was subtle—ordinary people wouldn't notice."
"Yes."
"Then why does Zhou Yuan keep sending things over and over?"
The trash can was silent for a moment.
"Maybe... he's not sending poison."
Lin Mu looked up at it.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, maybe those pills and pastries themselves aren't poisonous." The trash can blinked. "But two non-poisonous things eaten together—that could be poisonous."
Lin Mu was stunned.
He looked down at the two items on the table—the pills and the pastries.
When Zhou Yuan gave him the pills, he said "to supplement your Qi."
The person who sent the pastries in the middle of the night—could Zhou Yuan have arranged that too?
Take the pills during the day, eat the pastries at night. Separately, no problem. Together—
"Damn." Lin Mu cursed. "This bastard plays dirty."
He stared at the two items, his mind racing.
The question now was: how to prove it?
Take them for testing? Impossible—separately, they showed nothing. Confront Zhou Yuan directly? He'd definitely deny it.
"Host," the trash can suddenly said. "I have an idea."
"Tell me."
"That skill you won from the lucky draw—Emotional Manifestation. Only you can see it, right?"
"Right."
"So what if..." The trash can's voice carried a hint of excitement. "What if you let Zhou Yuan think you don't know it's him, and when he makes his next move, you catch him in the act?"
Lin Mu thought about it.
"You mean, use me as bait?"
"Pretty much. Think about it—Zhou Yuan's gone to all this trouble. He won't stop after one attempt. Right now he sees you bouncing around healthy, he's definitely anxious. Get anxious, and he'll slip up."
Lin Mu was silent for a moment, then the corner of his mouth slowly curved up.
"Trash can."
"Yeah?"
"How is a trash can this calculating?"
"Because I'm an emotional trash can." The trash can said it with utter righteousness. "I deal with human hearts every day. Seen it all."
Lin Mu laughed.
He gathered the items from the table, lay back on the bed.
"Fine. We'll do it your way."
Outside the window, clouds covered the moon.
In the distance, the night watchman's clapper sounded. Third watch.
Lin Mu closed his eyes, ready to sleep.
Just then, a light flickered before his eyes again.
It drifted in through the window.
He opened his eyes and saw something on the windowsill that hadn't been there before—fist-sized, grayish-blue, surface covered in cracks, beating slowly.
It was Zhou Yuan's rotten hatred heart.
It had followed him back.
Now it crouched on his windowsill, thin trails of grayish-blue mist seeping through its cracks, slowly drifting into the room.
The trash can burst out of Lin Mu's robe, its lid flying wide open.
"Host! It's releasing poison!"
Lin Mu flipped over and sat up, but before he could react, the mist was already in front of him.
He held his breath.
It didn't matter.
The mist passed straight through his skin, seeped inside.
The next second, a flood of intense emotions surged through his mind—anger, fear, despair, countless negative feelings crashing over him like a wave, crushing him until he could barely breathe.
"Host!" The trash can jumped onto his shoulder, its lid opening and closing frantically. "Think of happy things! Quick!"
Happy things?
Lin Mu searched desperately, but his mind was full of those negative emotions—images of the original owner being bullied, the original owner's deathbed suffering, Zhou Yuan's fake face...
The emotions grew stronger, almost drowning him.
Then, suddenly, a sharp sting shot through the base of his right ring finger.
It was light, like a pinprick.
But in that instant, all the negative emotions were sucked away by something, vanishing completely.
Lin Mu gasped for air, looking down at his right hand.
Nothing there.
But he had felt it—in that moment, something inside him had moved.
On the windowsill, that grayish-blue heart stopped beating.
The cracks on its surface began spreading, more and more, deeper and deeper, until finally with a "pop" it shattered into a pile of ash.
The wind blew, and nothing remained.
The trash can stared blankly at this scene, then turned its head and fixed those tiny little eyes on Lin Mu's right hand.
"Host."
"Yeah?"
"What did you just... use?"
Lin Mu raised his right hand, turning it over to look.
"I don't know."
He really didn't know.
But he had a vague feeling that this secret ran even deeper than Zhou Yuan's poison.