Chapter 128: The Mad One
“Pinch the philtrum.”
“Press hard.”
“Press on the chest.”
“Press hard.”
Jiang Changtian and Jiang Feng happened to return just then.
Mianmian heard the noise and went out to meet them.
However, she heard movement inside the room, so she pushed the door open and went back in, only to find Great-Aunt lying on the floor…
Her first thought was to perform first aid.
Could this be a heart attack or a stroke?
But with her small stature, she certainly couldn’t do it alone, so she pushed the door open.
She called for Elder Brother and Father to come over.
Ancient people also knew first aid measures, such as pinching the philtrum.
And tapping the chest.
By the second tap, Aunt Yin opened her eyes.
Seeing the two men in front of her, along with little Mianmian crouching by her side, she finally caught her breath.
“I am fine.”
At this moment, Mother and Sister also came over upon hearing the commotion.
Aunt Yin asked Sister Yu to take Mianmian away.
Jiang Changtian asked Sister Xia to go brew a dose of calming medicine.
Then he closed the door.
They were all sharp-witted people; from the look in Aunt Yin’s eyes, he knew she had something to say in private.
Sure enough, Aunt Yin tremblingly retrieved the painting Mianmian had made from beneath her body.
In the final moment before she fainted from fright, she had actually remembered to hide the painting. Perhaps there hadn’t been enough time, so she had simply pressed it beneath her before collapsing from sheer terror.
Aunt Yin had seen her fair share of dead bodies.
Yet, she was still overly terrified.
Ancient people respected the body.
One’s body, hair, and skin are gifts from one’s parents and should not be lightly damaged.
Even after death, one would not desecrate a corpse by peeling it open to see what it looked like inside.
But this painting—one side of the face was very beautiful, a rare beauty indeed. The eyebrows, eyes, neck, nose, and lips were all exquisite, and together, they looked very lovely.
Yet, the other side depicted what lay beneath the skin and flesh. It was hard to imagine—could these really be the things wrapped beneath human scalp and skin?
Strands of blood vessels? Strips of flesh? Bones? Teeth?
That structure, the direction of the blood flow, and how each strand could actually connect together.
Is this something a normal person could draw?
Is this something a normal child could draw?
They couldn’t imagine it being like this, because no one had ever peeled one open or cut one open to see.
Even a coroner wouldn’t do this.
Nor would it be possible to dissect it in such detail.
Jiang Changtian was also startled when he saw the painting.
Seeing the painting, Jiang Feng was even more terrified and couldn’t utter a word.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. No need to be afraid. It’s fine. Children have pure eyes and can see things that ordinary people cannot. It’s fine.” Jiang Changtian himself was also very terrified by the painting.
The fear of human corpses is an instinct in human genes; it prevents cannibalism.
Jiang Changtian noticed that Fenger’s body was trembling slightly.
He still hadn’t killed enough people.
Actually, it’s fine, it’s fine.
Aunt Yin had also recovered. Listening to her master’s explanation, it seemed plausible.
That child Mianmian always had a gaze that was exceptionally different.
It was just a bit too frightening.
“It’s nothing, Aunt Yin. It scared you. Rest a while longer.” Jiang Changtian put away the painting and took Fenger outside.
Jiang Changtian took the painting and led his son quite a distance away, walking to the place where they usually rode horses—a vast, open area with no one around.
Jiang Changtian found a spot to sit down, where he could see the village scene as well as the area outside the village.
The view from here was excellent.
“Does Fenger have something to hide from Father?”
Seeing his younger sister’s painting, Jiang Feng felt as if he had returned to that pitch-black underground.
Watching the bodies slowly rot from flesh into bones, then the bones slowly rotting, crumbling, and merging with the soil—there was no light, only endless darkness, stretching on forever.
In that instant, tears flowed from Jiang Feng’s eyes like a spring.
In truth, Jiang Changtian had also noticed some strange changes in Fenger.
Before his injury, he had always acted like a playboy.
He rarely listened when he spoke to him.
But after that injury, he suddenly matured overnight. It was as if he had changed in a single night, becoming much more sensible, obedient, and steady.
However, Feng’er was unwilling to say what had happened.
He had kept his son almost constantly under his watch, yet he hadn’t discovered anything unusual.
Now it seemed there really was something unusual.
He reached out, wrapped his arm around his son’s shoulders, and patted his arm firmly, saying: “It’s fine, it’s fine, Fenger, it’s fine. You can tell Father anything. You don’t need to hide it from Father; Father can handle it.”
Hearing these words from Father, Jiang Feng cried even harder.
As a grown man, he began to sob and choke with tears.
His whole body trembled.
“I know why Younger Sister is like this, and why she can draw this painting.”
Jiang Feng gritted his teeth and said each word distinctly.
He recounted to Father the scenes he had seen when he was injured and nearly died.
Several times, he opened his mouth, paused, and couldn’t continue.
Watching the curling smoke from the village, he continued to speak.
“That idiot Jiang Xiaoyu got herself lost. I, Mianmian, and Mother were all buried together. Suddenly one day, I could no longer hear the crying from above. Father, you didn’t know where you had gone. Suddenly, I woke up, and I discovered things were different. I had come back to life, my strength had increased significantly, and my mind had become much sharper.”
Jiang Changtian listened to his son’s account without interrupting a single word.
It was just that the blood flow in his body slowed down, and his hands and feet grew cold.
So, he could not handle it after all.
He truly could not handle such an outcome.
Jiang Changtian also opened his mouth several times, but said nothing.
Because the action of opening his mouth would stretch his facial muscles significantly, preventing the tears from falling.
“I think Younger Sister also came back from there. She died very early, so even if she came back from there, she doesn’t understand much. But because she stayed underground for so long, she likes playing with ants. So, so she can draw bones and corpses. Her body must have also undergone some changes.”
Jiang Changtian gripped his son’s shoulder, sat beside him, and listened to him recount that experience.
He didn’t know why, but he knew that was what they had experienced.
Because if Fenger had died that time, everything seemed predictable.
His health was poor, so he couldn’t look after Sister Yu. She might have foolishly sold herself or gotten lost. He and Sister Xia would have gone to look for Sister Yu, but then they would have lost Mianmian too. Mianmian looked extremely similar to him, so Old Madam Jiang certainly wouldn’t want her alive and would have had her poisoned. Sister Xia would have wanted revenge and would have had her neck broken by someone, killed in a single blow.
Only he, this useless person, would have remained alive.
What could he do alive?
He would want to kill, to kill everyone in the world to be buried with his wife and children.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, really, Fenger. It was just a nightmare. You have come back to life, Mianmian is here, Sister Yu is here, Mother and Father are here, and now there is also Aunt Yin. It’s fine, life will only get better.” Jiang Changtian comforted his son.
Each word, each phrase, was gentle.
As if it had magic.
Jiang Feng’s heaving chest gradually calmed down.
With red eyes, he said: “Father, if Mianmian is in any way different, don’t treat her like a monster. She, she is just Mianmian, she is my younger sister, she is your child. She is very, very well-behaved. Her life in the previous life was too short. She didn’t even breathe for a year. She lay in that small coffin, too small, only occupying a corner. Father, in this life, what I want most is for Mianmian to live a long, long life, to live for a hundred or a thousand years, to make up for what she didn’t have in her last life.”
Mianmian, who was playing with ant building blocks in the courtyard, suddenly burst into tears.
Her hearing was very good.
So she had heard her Elder Brother and Father talking.
She hadn’t expected, she hadn’t expected they were so miserable.
If she didn’t have the Spirit Spring, the whole family would have died, leaving only Father alone. What a desperate scene that would have been.
As she cried, more and more ants gathered on the ground, more and more ants.
Because Little Tree sensed the great change in its little master’s emotions and was a bit panicked.
Jiang Changtian had comforted his son.
He walked back slowly.
He walked very slowly, stepping on the ground one foot after another, feeling the hardness of the muddy ground.
Beneath such muddy ground, lying there, lying there, unable to turn over, unable to move—what would that feeling be like?
He didn’t shed any tears. After hearing such a miserable experience from his son, he actually didn’t shed a single tear.
Instead, he looked at Mianmian’s painting seriously.
Mianmian had drawn it extremely well; the flesh and blood were vivid, and the bones were rounded.
This person is Jiang Wan, right?
Jiang Wan was a beautiful girl; her bones and flesh were all beautiful.
Jiang Changtian walked back step by step, not crying, not shedding tears. He thought numbly: If his family were all gone, leaving him alone in this world, what would he do?
What would he do? He would go mad. He would kill. He would overthrow this dynasty. He would make everyone be buried with them.
Every moment he lived longer would be to make them die one more.
Other than that, he had no reason to live.
Hell is empty, the demons are on earth.
He believed he could do it.
Jiang Changtian arrived at the door of his house and saw Mianmian surrounded by ants. He saw her sitting in the middle of the ant pile, tears streaming down her face, reaching out to him, wanting a hug.
Jiang Changtian walked over and gently picked up the child.
“Don’t be afraid, Father is here.” Jiang Changtian finally shed tears. He saw the ants surrounding a small skeleton, eating it bit by bit. She was so soft, and when she was born, she only knew how to smile.
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