Her eyes grew moist. A moment ago, she’d said “don’t talk about getting old,” but suddenly she felt that growing old together would be a blessing. How many couples made it that far?
She nodded firmly. “We’ll come back when we’re old.”
The camp lights flicked on, bright beams cutting through the rain. A fire was lit, flames hissing against the drizzle.
“Luo, Master—open the box!” Cao Yan Hua called.
They opened it. A rectangular fish tank, half-filled with water. The blood-red phoenix clasp had faded to a faint crimson glow. Six wordless ominous slips stood like solemn monuments.
The fire crackled. The air felt thin—maybe from altitude.
Luo Ren rolled up his sleeve. “I’ll go first.”
He took a deep breath and plunged his entire arm into the water.
They had always treated the slips with caution. Even when viewing water shadows, they had only dared to touch the surface with fingertips.
“It’s avoiding you!” Yan Hongsha cried.
It was—trembling slightly, keeping distance from his arm. Each time he nearly grasped one, it darted away like a fish.
It did not want to possess him.
He withdrew his arm. The cold water clung to his skin, icy in the wind.
A setback—but also a good sign. The slips feared them.
What now?
Wan San said quietly, “It’s avoiding you—but also the blood-red clasp.”
So?
“It’s like a siege,” Wan San said. “If we shrink the circle so it can’t escape?”
Even so, it might not enter them.
Mu Dai had been watching closely. “Luo Xiaodao, the slips are just malice. They don’t have physical form or weight. We only see them because our blood made them manifest, right?”
“Right.”
“They fear water temporarily. We can seal them because of the blood. What if we drain the water until there’s only a thin layer left? Then they can’t avoid us.”
Luo Ren felt it—Wan San’s logic made sense, but Mu Dai’s instinct pointed the way.
He suddenly stood, rummaged through the medical kit, and pulled out syringes.
“I have an idea.”
“When you catch fish with your hands, it’s hard. With a net, it’s easy.”
“We’ll use cloth to make a net, scoop up both the clasp and slips, and transfer them into a small container. As long as the clasp’s there, they can’t escape—not for a few minutes.”
“Then we’ll add blood.”
Wan San understood immediately. “And draw it back with syringes? After draining it, inject it into ourselves?”
Luo Ren nodded. “They don’t want to possess us. But injection still counts.”
Cao Yan Hua sucked in a breath. That counted?
It did. Brutal. Direct. Blood for blood.
They each gave blood—Luo Ren first, drawing carefully from small veins. Drops into the container.
They filled syringes with dark red liquid.
Luo Ren injected himself first—more than a fifth. If rejection occurred, he would bear more of it.
Then Mu Dai. Yan Hongsha. Wan San. Finally, Cao Yan Hua.
Just before the needle went in, Cao Yan Hua panicked. “Shen Gun! If I don’t make it, set Jiefang free—don’t eat it!”
Luo Ren smiled faintly and pushed the syringe down.
No turning back now.
They looked at each other.
“How do you feel?” Luo Ren asked softly.
Fine.
No dizziness. No distortion. The fire still crackled. The rain still fell.
“Does this mean it’s sealed?” Mu Dai asked.
Was it? It felt almost anticlimactic.
“Really, nothing strange?”
“Nothing.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
From tension, to disbelief, to joy.
Yan Hongsha suggested, “Let’s take a photo. For memory.”
They sat by the fire.
Click.
Perfect composition.
Shen Gun grinned, raising the phone again. “Another one—change poses.”
In the frame, no one moved.
He looked up.
The chill shot down his spine.
He stumbled back, falling against the tent, grabbing the stun gun with shaking hands.
“Still friends?” he whispered hoarsely. “Luo… Pocket… Fatty?”
Rain drifted through the light like silver needles.
The fire crackled.
Everything in the world was moving.
Except the five of them.
They no longer moved at all.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152