A small building has swallowed several lives.

The lights are on.

Yet it's very quiet.

No shadow is seen on the first floor.

Clouds drift, the moonlight alternates between dim and bright.

Before long, rustling sounds emerge in the dim corridor of the second floor.

And then.

"Sob, sob, sob..."

The intermittent sound of sobbing, a faint figure can be seen sitting against the wall, clutching a crimson nightdress. Due to the broken strap, it couldn't be worn, only barely covering the body, head buried, slender shoulders trembling.

So pitiful.

As if subjected to great torment and injustice.

On the nearby floor.

There's a body lying.

No.

Perhaps not a corpse, maybe just exhausted or sleeping, hence not moving.

"Sob, sob, sob..."

The sobbing continues without pause.

In the dead of night, in a haunted house, with the scene in the background, it's particularly haunting.

Finally.

The "corpse" on the ground reacts, slowly opens its eyes, and in the darkness seems a flash of light.

Feeling relieved.

Like a blocked riverbed suddenly flowing, negative emotions effectively released.

The always dignified Jiang Chen lies on the cold floor.

The effects of the drug have worn off.

But unlike drunkenness.

He remembers everything vividly, including the sobbing beside him.

Jiang Chen doesn't move.

Inside and out, feeling refreshed, like a martial arts novel's cleansing, yet there's a side effect.

A headache.

At the same time.

Exhaustion, not that he doesn't want to move, but really his whole body feels weak, more tired than running ten kilometers.

Only blame the craziness earlier.

No.

The effect of the drug was too strong.

His physical condition is at least considered excellent, yet he ends up like this. If it were someone average, wouldn't they have died?

Indeed, just exhausted oxen, never plowed land.

He couldn't move, but glanced at the other.

She managed to easily climb up, sit against the wall with the strength to wipe tears.

Exhaling deeply, as the sobbing shows no sign of stopping, Jiang Chen speaks helplessly.

"Why cry, shouldn't you laugh?"

"Sob..."

If he said nothing, it was fine. When he did, the sobbing grew louder.

"You drugged me, yet you're crying?"

Jiang Chen weakly lies on the ground, staring at the ceiling. Even when sparring with Duanmu the Taoist master, he was never this miserable.

Sparring with Duanmu exhausted the body outside, but now it feels like his insides are emptied.

How long did it last earlier?

An hour or two hours?

Really can't remember, only that it was intense from start to finish.

What kind of drug did this demon use for such a fierce effect?

"I hurt!"

A voice filled with grievance and lament.

Still has the nerve to complain.

Isn't it all self-induced?

Jiang Chen doesn't speak further, props himself up on the floor, forces himself to sit, and turns to the wall.

Not an act, that naturally seductive face indeed has tear-stained cheeks, hair disheveled, clutching the torn nightdress, legs curled inwards at the wall, truly a pitiful sight.

Intense memories uncontrollably replay, frame by frame, exceeding the intensity of most Japanese adult films.

Jiang Chen feels somewhat frustrated, why doesn't this drug impair memory? He even recalls forcing her to kneel, grabbing her hair from behind.

Was that really him?

Though reluctant to accept, Jiang Chen never escapes reality.

The vivid senses now clearly tell him, everything wasn't a dream.

Even though he's always held himself to strict moral standards, human nature is ever complex.

Everyone's heart contains both good and evil.

And tonight.

His inner darkness was provoked.

"I warned you."

Jiang Chen indeed did warn beforehand.

"How could I know... you're so perverted."

Perverted?

Jiang Chen feels disgraced, not saying calling the thief to catch thief, but it's turning the tables.

According to the latest Civil Code.

He's even the victim!

"You drugged me; all my actions, I couldn't control myself."

Jiang Chen unwaveringly stands on this point.

For any rights and wrongs, the cause behind them must be clear, that is the essence of correct answers.

Sure enough.

Keeping hold of the "drugging" cause, Fujiwara Reiki can't find words to refute. As she has nothing to say, she chooses silence.

"Rustle."

She simply pulls off the nightdress covering her body and throws it on the ground again.

She's not asking for a second round.

She's showing Jiang Chen her injuries.

Jiang Chen indeed has solid reasons, yet some issues can't be appeased even by having facts.

Under dim light, Fujiwara Reiki's originally soft and smooth skin is bruised, some areas seriously purple, like an artwork ravaged mercilessly, making it hard to look at.

Jiang Chen opens his mouth, then falls silent, later asking, "...Need to go to the hospital?"

"No!"

Fujiwara Reiki immediately refuses without hesitation, with the blush of a little girl on her tear-streaked face.

Jiang Chen momentarily can't tell if she's acting still.

Life is a play, play is life, actually not just him, can she herself distinguish clearly if she's in or out of the play?

Jiang Chen gets up, dresses himself, then walks to the wall, bends over, and once again carries her soft and lightweight body horizontally.

Compared to when climbing upstairs before, more cautiously now.

"Where's your room?"

Instead of hitting or venting, Fujiwara Reiki hugs the one who just tormented her, pointing the direction.

Jiang Chen carries her into the room, then gently lays her on the bed.

"Rest well."

Fujiwara Reiki stares at him, grabs his arm.

Jiang Chen meets her gaze, "Want to go again?"

Even if mostly sure she's a paper tiger now, Fujiwara Reiki quickly says, "Today not possible, I can't take it anymore."

No matter how exceptional, she's no invincible steel, who would be so wild the first time?

"Rest and recover for days."

Jiang Chen places her hand back.

Fujiwara Reiki bites her lip, not insisting, cautiously saying, "...Then, kiss me."

Jiang Chen pauses, stays put.

Fujiwara Reiki's eyes dim gradually, "Jiang-san, take care on your way."

Jiang Chen quietly, reaches out, certainly not taking advantage, instead tidying her disheveled hair.

"Take care of yourself."

Then.

He gets up.

Like a patient exhausted lying on the floor mat, Fujiwara Reiki's eyes light up instantly, conscious move strains the injury, intense pain from all sides attacks, she instinctively frowns, can only obediently lie down, listening to footsteps.

The door opens and closes.

Footsteps gradually sparse.

Fujiwara Reiki releases a breath, like shedding all brilliance, face no longer enchanting and charming, staring blankly at the profound night outside the window.

Turning off the lights on the first floor, Jiang Chen exits the iron gate, similarly looks up at the night sky, expression slightly complex, then looks away, closes the iron gate.

At this moment.

To the left.

A shadow enters the corner of his eye.

Jiang Chen instinctively turns to look, then abruptly freezes.

Only to see Duanmu the Taoist nun quietly standing under the wall of the haunted house, unknown how long she's been standing there.

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