Chapter 17: The Door
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation.)
A wild mixture of strange sounds filled the air. Yu Sheng could hear it all at once—the desperate cries inside his own mind, the fox spirit’s fading reason, and the monstrous fox’s hungry, maddened snarls. He could also hear Foxy’s pained whimpers right beside him, yet his thoughts were crowded by darker noises: the savage howls of starvation, low whispers murmuring in the darkness, and a single, clear voice urging him to run.
Yu Sheng inhaled sharply, lowering himself close to the ground. Then he sprang forward, aiming for the narrow space between the towering fox monster and the other strange creature it fought. He did not run away as Foxy had told him to. Instead, he seized a broken slab of stone from the rubble underfoot and rushed straight toward the monster’s flank.
He knew very well that he had no hope of defeating a beast like this. But he also understood that a mere human like him could never outrun it, especially with these scattered ruins closing in on all sides. The one open exit, the one path out of the crumbling temple, was fully blocked by the monster’s enormous body. Trying to flee would just lead to a quicker, more pathetic death.
Better to face it directly. Yu Sheng did not fear dying. If he could at least land one solid blow, perhaps he could buy Foxy a brief moment to break free. She was still fighting to stay sane. If she could slip loose, maybe there was a chance, however small, that they might turn the tide.
All these thoughts passed through Yu Sheng’s mind in an instant. He did not have a clever plan, but he had no time for one. Gritting his teeth, he forced his body to the limit, gathering strength he had not known he possessed. With a grunt, he hurled the heavy stone slab like a cannonball at the creature’s side.
He didn’t wait to see if it hit. The moment he threw it, a wave of dread washed over him. He glimpsed the counterattack just in time and flung himself sideways. A dark, snaking shape lashed the spot where he had stood only a heartbeat before.
It was the monster’s tail, twisting and snapping like a whip. It slammed into the ground with a thunderous crack, sending shards of stone and twisted debris in every direction. The force nearly blew Yu Sheng off his feet. Sharp fragments pelted him like iron bullets, their impact ringing in his ears.
Yu Sheng refused to let the pain slow him down. As soon as he landed, he rolled, dodging another strike from that vicious tail. From the corner of his eye, he looked towards Foxy.
She was a dazzling silver-white shape, trapped and struggling inside a prison of countless black spikes and jagged bone shards. The ghostly blue flames flickering at her tail’s tip flared violently, as if about to lose control and burst at any moment.
Yet she remained ensnared, as though whatever had her pinned down was made to restrain beings like her. It was obvious that, even though Foxy was far more powerful than Yu Sheng, she was utterly helpless before this fiend. It was as if something about the creature completely countered her abilities.
And yet, when all this had begun—outside the temple in that open clearing—Foxy had still raced forward to try to save him. She hadn’t hesitated, even though it ended in failure. She truly meant to help him.
The memory of that moment flashed through Yu Sheng’s mind. He clenched his jaw and prepared to dash in again. If he could just land one more strike, however small, maybe he could carve out another chance. Maybe Foxy could escape.
He didn’t understand where his sudden strength or uncanny ability to heal had come from. But he remembered something: these changes first appeared after he had bitten off a piece of the monster’s flesh. He wasn’t certain if that was the key, but what did he have to lose? He was not afraid of dying, so why not try every reckless idea?
“Leave me… alone! It can’t… kill me… You, run!” Foxy’s voice called out again, choked with pain.
“It’s fine,” Yu Sheng answered, spitting out a mouthful of blood where a stray stone had struck his jaw. “It can’t kill me either.” He glanced at the silver fox and forced a grin onto his bruised face. “I might die in a second, but don’t worry. I’ll come back for you.”
Foxy paused in her struggle, appearing stunned by his words. For a moment, confusion shone in her eyes.
Yu Sheng offered no explanation. He stepped forward lightly, smiling more brightly as he faced the monster again. It was the sort of grin someone might wear when heading off to a grand feast.
“You like to push people to eat, don’t you?” he said softly to the hideous beast. “Well then, I’m here to eat!”
Without another word, he leaped forward like a starving wolf hurling itself at a banquet.
The monster’s countless eyes wobbled and twitched. For the first time, those mad, frenzied eyes showed something like hesitation… and fear.
The monster’s many mouths screamed in a twisted, garbled chorus. Its tails, long and scaly as black serpents, burst out from its body and stabbed through the air, aiming straight for Yu Sheng as he soared.
He felt them pierce him—he felt fatal wounds tearing into his flesh, though he could not tell how many or where. Warm blood flowed freely, making him dizzy. His strength drained away with every heartbeat. Yet that bottomless hunger inside him surged up, pushing aside fear and pain. He ignored the agony, clutched one of those tails that had impaled him, and bent down to bite it.
The monster shrieked. Its cry was shrill and desperate, and it tried to fling Yu Sheng away as if he were a poisonous insect. It whipped its tail about wildly, slamming him into the ground and hurling him straight through a broken temple wall.
Yu Sheng’s body, strangely tough, bore the impact. Though every nerve screamed with pain, his mind seemed clearer than ever. The tail jerked upward, swinging him along with it, rushing toward a large hole in the temple’s wall.
Just then, Yu Sheng caught a glimmer of golden light at the edge of his vision.
He narrowed his eyes against the wind and dust. The golden gleam drew closer, and without thinking, he reached out. His hand closed around something solid—a handle.
Yu Sheng froze. “…?”
A soft creaking sound reached his ears, blending with the roaring wind. In his mind’s eye, he saw a door—an ordinary, simple door, as if it had always been there, waiting for him to notice. He imagined some distant place without fully realizing it, and then, as if obeying his thought, the door swung open.
In an instant, Yu Sheng and the black, scaly tail vanished through that doorway. The door gave a loud, lingering creak, and then slammed shut.
The creature bellowed in anguish as the tail was neatly severed by the closing door. Its pain and fury were boundless. It went berserk, rampaging through the temple ruins and gnashing at everything—even at its own body—until, at last, it seemed to have no strength left. It melted into a drifting shadowy mist and slowly faded away into the dark night.
The black spikes and bone fragments, all that had trapped Foxy, vanished with no sound at all. Freed at last, the battered silver fox collapsed onto the rubble, utterly still, as if lifeless.
After several minutes, Foxy slowly opened her eyes. They were blank and lost, her golden-red gaze empty of human feeling.
For a long while, she simply lay there, dazed. Finally, her eyes drifted to a spot among the ruins—the stone steps where she and her “Benefactor” had once sat together.
Her huge fox body dragged heavily as she crawled over to those steps. There, she found the plastic bag and the scraps of food scattered about. Lowering her head, she whimpered softly and ate everything she could find.
But she was still so terribly hungry.
A sly, taunting voice whispered to her in the darkness of her mind. It reminded her of what she had buried in the woods—bones, flesh, blood. It tempted her, saying if she ate them, she would never be hungry again.
The fox lowered her head and whimpered, as if weeping. She curled up beneath the broken steps, stretching her neck out to gnaw at the rubble nearby, chewing helplessly at rotten wood and digging into the dirt. She bit at anything, refusing to heed that dark voice, repeating to herself:
“I’m not hungry… I’m not hungry… Someone gave me food… He will come back with more… I’m not hungry…”
She gnawed and chewed at the ruins until, bit by bit, she drifted off into a faint, aching slumber.
Meanwhile, Yu Sheng awoke with a jolt. The feeling of falling snapped him back to awareness. He realized he was still clutching that strange door handle, though now it felt like he had crossed from one world into another.
He opened his eyes and, to his astonishment, found himself lying on the roadside. The familiar shapes of streetlamps and leaning utility poles lined the old, tired buildings of Wutong Road. Not far off, he could see the old gate and faded walls of No. 6 Wutong Road, lit gently by the early morning glow.
Slowly, he turned his head. Behind him, he glimpsed the faint, shadowy outline of a door fading away. Through that dim shape, he could still make out the distant valley, the ruined temple, and the white fox struggling alone among the debris.
Yu Sheng reached toward her, desperate to help.
But before his fingertips could pass through, the last trace of the door vanished.