Chapter 20: Part (3): Rhapsody of the New Moon

Among all the diseases that have plagued humanity, the most fatal is undoubtedly cancer. Yet, in terms of harm, such illnesses are often not the most destructive.

The concept of “harm” can extend beyond the self — it can affect others as well.

And mental illnesses are exactly like this.

Depression, mania, autism — all of them can make a person feel inferior, and over time, extremely aggressive. They begin to believe they have a divine mission or are acting as a representative of justice, ultimately turning their violence outward — harming others after first losing themselves.

Among them, the most severe is schizophrenia.

In its worst form, the patient may see another person — someone who feels utterly familiar, or perhaps embodies their deepest desires. This figure appears before them, whispering temptations in a sweet, gentle voice, planting terrifying ideas and urging them to act.

And when their hands are covered in the blood of others, they still cannot realize the horror of what they’ve done.

That was what Yao Bingling believed ten years ago, the first time he felt it — and saw it.

But after the sixth time he faced it, eight years ago, Yao Bingling finally understood who that thing truly was.

His heart burned as if it were on fire — blood pumping from it like molten lava flowing through his veins!

“UAAAHHHHH!!!”

It was a sound somewhere between a beast’s roar and a human’s scream — a terrifying hybrid that froze anyone who heard it, for in every sense, that sound could only belong to a monster.

He crashed into the ground like a meteorite, scattering leaves and stones in all directions.

A massive crater formed where he fell — this time, he couldn’t climb out immediately.

Thick smoke and searing heat rose from the pit, carrying the acrid smell of burning flesh.

Kneeling in the center, Yao Bingling braced himself with both hands. His body was blazing hot, like a furnace; his clothes were scorched and torn with blackened holes.

But unlike what high temperature should do — turning the skin red — his skin was pale. Deathly pale, like a corpse that had been dead for hours.

The whiteness began from his right hand. The clothes that could’ve hidden it were already gone, revealing a body where the white had crept up his arm, past his neck. From his heart radiated a glaring golden light — his heart itself seemed to glow, beating violently and madly!

Circuit-like patterns spread from his heart all the way to his right eye, turning the entire right side of his face a lifeless white.

Yao Bingling stared at his right hand — the whitening didn’t stop. It spread rapidly, visibly creeping up his arm. At this rate, it would swallow his entire arm within seconds.

Faster than ever before — faster than anything he’d seen in ten years.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,”
a voice said suddenly beside him.

“This year’s new moon is the closest and strongest in a decade. Thanks to that, my power… has tripled~.”

He appeared out of nowhere, squatting beside Yao Bingling. His face was identical, but those golden eyes gleamed with madness.

“Three times stronger~! Last year, you lasted four hours, thirty-four minutes, and twenty-two seconds. Let’s see how long you last this time~.”

He extended a finger toward Yao Bingling’s arm. The moment he came within ten centimeters, the whiteness spread again, glowing with cracking lines as if forming a sigil.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!”

Yao Bingling snapped his head toward him — his gaze sharp as blades. Not metaphorically — literally two invisible blades sliced through the air.

In an instant, the other’s hand exploded into blood and fragments — fingers and wrist severed, his forearm split cleanly into three pieces.

Yet he didn’t seem to feel pain. For a moment he just stared blankly at the stump, as if trying to comprehend what had happened.

Then his eyes bulged.

“My hand! My hand!!!”

Gone was the arrogance — replaced by sheer panic. Like a conman whose lies had been exposed, he screamed pitifully, tears, snot, and spit smearing his twisted face.

Yao Bingling watched his own mirrored face writhing in the dirt — and felt… disgust.

“Ahhh— it hurts, it hurts so much! Hahahaha!!!”

The sobbing turned into wild laughter. His face twisted back into madness. Grabbing Yao Bingling’s head, he slammed it into the filthy mud — the mix of rotten leaves, animal dung, and underground decay engulfing his face.

“Disgusted, aren’t you? Seeing your own face make expressions you’d never make? Tell me you want to puke. Please. Otherwise, I’ll be heartbroken that my performance didn’t win me an Oscar~.”

He laughed — mouth splitting to his ears, the smile of a clown. But not the kind that brings laughter at a circus — the kind that wields a bloody knife.

“…Go f*** yourself.”

“Oh~ my dear little Bingling~ but I am you. Are you asking me to—”

Before he could finish, Yao Bingling’s left hand pulled a gun from the black bag beside him — no aiming, just instinct — and fired multiple shots!

The pressure on his head vanished. He looked up at the figure, now riddled with holes in the chest. Without hesitation, Yao Bingling aimed at the head and emptied the entire magazine.

“Hey~ nice spirit. But how long can you really last?”

He had fired with the intent to blow the thing’s head clean off — and he nearly succeeded.

Most of the head was gone, but the half that remained still wore that deranged grin. The lone golden eye still gleamed.

The half-mouth moved and spoke clearly:

“The night’s still young. Winning in one round would be too boring~ I’ll give you thirty minutes to recover. Don’t worry — tonight, victory will be mine.”

Yao Bingling didn’t reply.

He just felt his body cooling, the molten heat of his blood finally ebbing enough to let him breathe again. He exhaled — a white breath tinged with red.

Then his body collapsed, limp, into the cold mud. The chill of the earth pulled his temperature back toward normal, and slowly his fevered mind cleared.

“This won’t do,” he muttered.

That thing had the upper hand — its power far beyond what he’d imagined. Ten years of preparation shattered in an instant. His only advantage left was that the enemy wanted to savor the victory — to torment him slowly.

Yao Bingling knew him well.

That creature was sadistic — and when he finally broke, when he surrendered, it would devour his very soul.

He needed a new backup plan.

Fortunately, he had one — something he could use within half an hour. But it was insane.

If it failed, he’d die — and worse, his failure might enrage that creature enough to slaughter everyone in Fuxing Town.

“What would he do then?”

If that thing gained full control of his body… yes, it would do exactly that.

Which meant Yao Bingling had no choice.
He’d never had a choice.

And he had known that — which was why, two nights ago, he’d gone home to get this bag.

He looked at the black travel bag lying open before him. Thanks to the creature’s influence, his night vision had improved — he could see everything clearly: enough weapons and ammunition for a small-scale firefight.

After a few seconds of silence, he came to a conclusion.

“Get ready for a surprise, bastard.”