Chapter 135

Chapter 135: Found

The moment Yu Sheng and Little Red Riding Hood stepped toward the dark, lifeless little house, Squirrel went “gah” and passed out, tipping stiffly off her shoulder. It didn’t even get to hit the ground—Yu Sheng snatched it by the tail and hauled it up.

Most of Yu Sheng’s fast reflexes came from daily battles of wit and nerve with Irene. That little doll could spring up and bite faster than lightning.

“You can’t go die and drag me with you!”

Squirrel’s eyes snapped open. It flailed wildly in his grip. “I’m just a Squirrel, damn it! You’re asking too much—”

“Quiet,” Little Red Riding Hood said, her voice low and sharp. “If you really don’t want to die.”

Squirrel froze instantly.

By then, Yu Sheng was only a few meters from the house.

Even in the dim forest, he could see it clearly. It looked exactly like the “shelter little house” he remembered—dark plank walls, a deep red roof, a narrow wooden door, tiny windows, and two battered, rotting steps out front.

But there wasn’t a trace of light inside. The whole place looked even more worn than before, like it had been abandoned for years and was only barely holding together. Tangled red rags and cords still clung to the doorframe, the windows, the eaves—only now the strips were more shredded, the color darker. Dark enough to make his skin crawl.

That deep red looked like old blood after it dried.

“Have you ever seen a house like this?” Yu Sheng asked, turning to Little Red Riding Hood.

“No.” The girl in red shook her head. Then she added, “This is my first time coming this deep.”

“Does a house like this mean something?” Yu Sheng looked down at Squirrel.

Squirrel refused to answer. The jittery little rodent trembled, its eyes full of terror and resistance. The closer Yu Sheng got, the worse it shook.

“Get farther away… Squirrel doesn’t like this place… Squirrel doesn’t like this place…” it squeaked, struggling harder.

“Calm down. We’ll be fine,” Yu Sheng said quickly, trying to soothe it. “I can move us out of the forest any time, and I can get you to a safe area too. We’ll just take a quick look and leave—”

Mid-sentence, something prickled in his gut. He stared into Squirrel’s eyes. “Do you know something?”

“Know?” Squirrel thrashed harder, like its mind was slipping. “No! Squirrel doesn’t know! Squirrel knows nothing! I’ve never seen this little house! No one’s ever seen this little house! You two also—”

It cut off abruptly. In Yu Sheng’s grip, it craned its neck, listening like it had caught a sound.

“Did you hear that? Did you hear a sound?”

Yu Sheng frowned. “Hear what?”

The answer was a sharp sting in his fingertip.

Squirrel ducked and bit down hard. The moment Yu Sheng loosened his fingers on instinct, the half-crazed animal shot free, shrieking as it bolted into the darkness.

“Run! Run! The wolf is here! They’re all here! Run with me—hurry!”

Yu Sheng and Little Red Riding Hood didn’t move. They could only watch it lose its mind and vanish, swallowed by the forest in the blink of an eye.

“It actually ran…” Little Red Riding Hood said, staring after it in shock, like she’d never seen that happen before.

“And it still remembered to tell us to run with it,” Yu Sheng muttered, just as dazed. He turned back to the silent house. “When we first saw this place, it wasn’t that bad. It only went crazy when we got close. Any idea why?”

“No.” She shook her head, eyes wary as they fixed on a black, hollow window. “That Squirrel is mysterious. And unstable. I probably don’t know much more than you.”

She drew a careful breath. “Let’s go in.”

Even now, she had no intention of backing down.

“I’ll go first,” Yu Sheng said, stepping ahead. “From its reaction, this place might be more dangerous than anything else in the Black Forest. Your condition isn’t stable. Don’t rush in.”

Little Red Riding Hood opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but in the end she swallowed it and only nodded.

Yu Sheng took a slow breath, steadying himself. He watched the air around the doorway for any shift, any change—and then he set his hand on the doorknob and pushed.

The flimsy wooden door creaked and swung open easily.

But the stale rot and drifting dust he expected never came.

Yu Sheng waited on the threshold for two seconds. No movement inside. No change in the forest outside. Then he leaned forward and looked into the gloom.

His vision was sharper than an ordinary person’s. Even in the dimness, he could make out the room clearly.

Little Red Riding Hood watched him glance in once—then jerk back immediately, his expression stunned and complicated. She stepped closer without thinking. “Inside…?”

Yu Sheng blinked like he’d just remembered how to breathe. He hesitated, weighed it, then nodded once. “Come in with me. You should see it yourself.”

They stepped into the little house.

In the darkness, Little Red Riding Hood finally understood.

It was the red cloak.

Red cloaks hung from the walls, littered the floor, draped from the ceiling—countless pieces of red cloak.

Dozens? More? Too many to count at a glance. In the dim light, they all looked different: tattered, torn, soaked in a deep, blood-dark red. Some were nothing but shredded scraps, piled so thick across the floor it was impossible to tell where one ended and another began.

Their footsteps on the decayed floorboards shattered the stillness. Yu Sheng took two steps in, then looked back. Little Red Riding Hood was still at the doorway, frozen.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Don’t get too far from me.”

She nodded, slow and stiff, and followed. Without realizing it, she edged closer to him as she walked.

After a moment, she whispered, “This place…”

“Maybe this explains why Squirrel reacted like that,” Yu Sheng said, voice low. He glanced at her. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m… fine.” She tried to smile and failed. “I’m scared, but it’s okay.”

Carefully, she stepped over a heap of red scraps and stared at the ruined cloth on the walls. Instinctively, she tugged at her own jacket. “This is probably what it looks like after everything ends. No wonder it’s in the deepest part of the forest.”

A practical question rose in Yu Sheng’s mind—one he’d wondered about for a while. “You chose those clothes yourself in the real world, right? Why does it have to be red too? Just to match the ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ label?”

“To keep my condition stable,” she said softly. “After I got the red cloak in the Black Forest, I can’t let myself drift too far from the identity of ‘Little Red Riding Hood.’”

“Why?”

She let out a quiet sigh. “Just like a fairy tale doesn’t like the lord, it also doesn’t like a disobedient child.”

Yu Sheng’s brow furrowed hard. “This thing is strict in a way that’s seriously unpleasant.”

Then he forced his expression back into something calmer and studied her face. “Are you okay? If this is too much pressure, you can go back outside.”

“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “It makes me tense, but honestly, it’s still better than the pitch-black forest out there.”

“Okay.” Yu Sheng didn’t push.

They searched the little house from corner to corner, careful among the scraps and hanging tatters, but they didn’t find the child named Xiao Xiao.

“Not here?” Yu Sheng’s restlessness sharpened. He scanned the small room again. “This should’ve been the most likely place.”

“The forest goes deeper,” Little Red Riding Hood murmured. “The farther from the light, the darker it gets. That’s deeper.”

Yu Sheng didn’t answer. He kept looking.

No. He could feel it.

Wolves still prowled the surrounding darkness, still hungry for some kind of “fresh food.” Through the blood-built link, a faint sense tugged at him. Yu Sheng narrowed his eyes, trying to catch that alien awareness—forcing himself to observe and think like a wolf, like a shadow, like the Black Forest itself.

Then, all at once, it was like he saw something. Like he knew.

Little Red Riding Hood stared as Yu Sheng strode to the corner, to the lone bed. He reached out and groped at the bedding, as if feeling for something that wasn’t there.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Yu Sheng didn’t answer. He pulled out the small knife he always carried.

The blade gleamed, sharp and clean.

He paused, sensing and listening with a calm, serious focus. Then, without hesitation, he drew the knife across an invisible point.

The blade cut through air.

But the feedback was flesh.

The smell of blood bloomed in the room.

“Ah,” Yu Sheng breathed, a small smile tugging at his mouth. His tone turned gentle—almost pleased—as he made another precise cut. “There you are. Wolf Granny… hiding yourself so well.”