Chapter 011

Chapter 11: No More Than Three

In the final second of Descent into death, Yu Sheng felt a boundless, crushing darkness, thick like a sticky liquid and heavy like an Entity.

His mind slipped away fast. He knew his body, which carried that mind, was failing from its terrible wounds. As life function stopped, the thoughts carried by flesh sank and faded. That was the way of nature.

Yet at the edge of that fading, a force, or rather a strong thought, a stubborn will, tied his mind tight. He remembered the frog that had devoured his heart, and he remembered his last “return.”

He asked himself in the dim: What happened then? What happened to me? Why did I live?

Those questions turned into a stubborn grip that held him right on the rim of the void. He teetered, but did not fall. He wanted to know so much. After dying, how did he come back?

The darkness pressed down. The sticky feel grew cold and rough, like soil piling over him. He felt as if layers of earth covered him, and his soul struggled to breathe. Then, suddenly, the weight vanished.

In a flash of insight, one thought lit up inside him. In his death, death died before he did.

Yu Sheng’s death died first, so the dead Yu Sheng returned again from the endless dark toward the land of the living. His “body” grew light, and he sped away from the void. In that rush, he glimpsed something on the dark surface, as if he skimmed over some kind of outer layer. He had no time to see clearly. He snapped his eyes open.

Cold night wind blew through a big hole in the wall. Half the roof had collapsed. Outside was a filthy sky without stars. In the depths of the night, wind howled through the Valley.

Yu Sheng sat in the corner of the ruined temple and felt foggy. The feeling was familiar. Not long ago, he had lived through it once. This time he recovered faster. Within a few breaths, he remembered everything, including the feeling of being buried by darkness.

He steadied his breath and stood up. Joints woke from stiffness, as if a newborn body was learning again how to live. Strength filled him fast. His mind cleared. Then he looked outside, toward the ground that had been soaked by his blood.

It was empty. The Behemoth had left, or it was hiding, just like before.

After a quiet moment, he tested a call in his mind: “Irene.”

Irene’s voice exploded right away, loud and busy: “Yu Sheng! Hey, are you okay?” She rattled on so fast he could barely keep up: “You suddenly stopped answering. I yelled and yelled and felt nothing from you, like your mind was gone. I thought you were dead. I nearly died from the scare. If you die, no one will fix the TV. Are you really okay?”

Yu Sheng’s face twitched: “So you are only worried no one will fix the TV?”

Irene thought it over and corrected herself: “That’s not the only reason. I was also worried you might be dead.”

Yu Sheng fell silent. She had actually hesitated. He ground his back teeth, forced his voice to stay even, and said: “What if I told you I really just died?”

Irene did not believe him at all: “Come on. You sound lively enough.”

He let it slide and changed the topic without a ripple: “Fine, just kidding.” He paused, then asked out of the blue: “How long?”

She blinked: “Huh? How long what?”

He kept his voice flat: “From when I said I was hanging up to now. How much time passed?”

Irene tried to guess: “I can’t see the clock from the living room here. I’d say about half an hour? Not exact. I’ve been sealed in this painting for years, my sense of time is dull. The sky outside hasn’t changed much. At least a whole night didn’t pass. It’s not dawn yet.”

Yu Sheng groaned: “That is way off. Do you know the difference between half an hour and a whole night?”

Irene fell quiet for a beat, then a low, scratchy chuckle came from her side. She hurried to explain: “That wasn’t me. It was the bear.”

Yu Sheng waved a tired hand: “I know.”

Irene sounded pleased: “Oh, so you finally believe me.”

Yu Sheng ignored the Portrait Doll. He did not say that it wasn’t belief so much as this: if she wanted a beating, she did not need to try. Her mouth already asked for it. In the face of Irene’s mouthy comments, the bear’s nasty laugh was just more fuel.

With useless thoughts spinning, he stepped outside again. If it was not an illusion, he felt stronger than before he died. His steps were light, his movements firm, even his eyes seemed sharper. He was getting used to this place, to its darkness, broken ground, ruins, and the malice and hungry gazes everywhere.

He crossed the Open Ground in front of the temple and walked toward the woods beyond, heading deeper into this Otherworld. He knew he might die again, maybe with the very next step, the very next second.

Irene’s voice rose in his mind: “Yu Sheng, are you really okay?”

He answered with calm: “I’m fine. Just a small injury. I’m better now.”

Irene tried again to pull him back: “How about you stay put, or find a safe place to hide? I’ll try to recall things. Maybe I’ve seen your ‘Valley’ before.”

Yu Sheng kept walking as he said: “You recall. I’ll keep moving.”

She started to object: “Wait, that might be dan…”

He cut in before she could finish. He had reached the Open Ground again. He took a deep breath of the Valley’s cold air that carried a strange, fishy stink. Looking at the far, shadowy, creepy Dense Forest, he pulled a crooked smile across his face: “You know, these days I’ve been living in a blur.”

Irene trailed behind his thoughts: “Uh, am I supposed to know that?”

Yu Sheng kept talking, not caring if she followed: “When you mentioned ‘Otherworlds’ and people who fall into them by accident, do you know how I felt?”

She asked it straight: “How?”

He said it simply: “Happy.”

She made a small sound: “Huh?”

He laughed, and the night could not hide it: “Happy, very happy. You said someone can open the wrong The Door by mistake, or step on the wrong board at the wrong second, and they fall into a place called an Otherworld, right? And you said if they are lucky and find the rules, they still have a chance to go back.”

Irene answered, still unsure: “That’s what I said, but it really comes down to luck. Trained Investigators do better. Ordinary people, without training, usually fall into an Otherworld and wait to die.”

Yu Sheng murmured to himself: “It’s fine. If I die enough times, I’ll figure it out.” [He did not plan to explain that line.]

Irene missed it: “What?”

He breathed out slowly, as if pushing out all the stale air he had held in for two months in this world: “Nothing. I finally found something to do. I’ll start here. It might take time, but I will get out.”

Irene sounded cautious but hopeful: “I don’t know what is happening to you, but you sound fired up. That’s good, right? Do your best. Try not to die. You still have to come home and fix the TV, and, you know, find me a body.”

Yu Sheng humored her: “Okay. When I get back, I’ll try to sort out your body. I’ve worked a little with sculpture and models. I can give it a try.”

This time Irene was truly excited: “Wait, you have Doll making experience? Why didn’t you say so earlier? How are your skills? What kind of Dolls or models can you make?”

Yu Sheng hesitated, then told the truth: “I learned from online videos. I watched the masters pinch clay. After watching, my brain told my hands I knew how, but my hands didn’t believe it.”

Two seconds later, Irene cursed him up and down. Yu Sheng, however, felt fully relaxed. A strange calm boosted his confidence. He walked forward and lifted his head, wanting to look at the mountains to one side.

A Flesh Behemoth several meters tall, born from fused limbs of twisted beasts, stood by the road and stared at him.

Yu Sheng stopped and thought for a second, then called to the Portrait Doll who was still cursing: “Irene.”

She answered briskly: “What is it?”

He said it with a straight face: “Nothing. I’m going to hang up again.”

She blurted in shock: “Huh?”