Chapter 143

Chapter 143: The Story in the Lord’s Eyes

Yu Sheng launched into a serious explanation of his grand construction plan—complete with a magnificent temple in his imagination and a ring of auxiliary buildings that would someday surround the platform. He hadn’t decided what those buildings would be for, but in his mind, that was a problem for Future Yu Sheng. First came the building.

Then he spent an equally serious amount of time explaining why the square little structure by the platform was not, in fact, a toilet.

Little Red Riding Hood and Princess Rapunzel listened with solemn faces.

The solemnest part was the second half, when they tried very hard not to laugh.

Yu Sheng couldn’t even blame them. Even he had to admit Phase One did look a little like a toilet.

In the end, he ended the topic as gracefully as he could and shifted their attention.

“These are the chickens Foxy raised,” he said, gesturing toward the coop. “Once the ecology recovers, they’ll be able to run around outside.”

Little Red Riding Hood’s reaction was identical to Irene’s the first time. Her eyes widened. “You let a fox raise chickens?”

“It’s a fox demon,” Yu Sheng corrected with absolute seriousness. “Huge difference. And I’m not joking—she takes better care of them than most people would.”

As if to prove his point, Foxy finished topping off the water and feed, checked the chicks carefully, then trotted over with a bright smile. She reached into her tail like it was a pocket, pulled out two tiny chicks, and held them up proudly.

“They’re Bai Qie and Yan Ju,” she said. “Someday I’m going to make them the leaders of the flock!”

Little Red Riding Hood stared for a long moment before it clicked that Bai Qie and Yan Ju were chicken names.

Before she could respond, Yu Sheng grabbed her with eager enthusiasm and began touring her through the valley like a realtor possessed.

“This area is where I’m going to plant vegetables,” he said, pointing. “See that channel over there? It runs from the foot of the mountain. We can irrigate the fields with it. Later I’m planning to build a reservoir in one corner of the platform. That patch there—I want to raise pigs someday, but I don’t have time yet. Farther out, there’s an open stretch… you noticed it, right? I’m thinking of setting a fixed door there, but it’s still a rough idea. I need to figure out the implementation. Right now my main focus is farming and building houses…”

Little Red Riding Hood and Princess Rapunzel could only nod, stunned into silence.

Especially Little Red Riding Hood. In her mind, this place was still the valley that once brewed hunger. Every time Yu Sheng happily described a new project, a voice in her head insisted: This place is an otherworld.

Her worldview kept dying and coming back to life like it was doing sit-ups in a coffin.

Yu Sheng, meanwhile, didn’t seem bothered by any of that. When he finally finished his rapid-fire introduction, he turned to them with bright anticipation.

“So?” he asked. “What do you think of this valley?”

Princess Rapunzel opened her mouth, then closed it. After a long time, she managed to squeeze out, “What kind of valley is this? This is Star X Valley!”

Yu Sheng considered it and reluctantly admitted her summary was flawless. Unfortunately, he didn’t own the naming rights.

A fresh breeze drifted down the valley, carrying the scent of grass and soil—and Xiao Xiao’s laughter.

The little girl was sprinting in circles through the grass, shrieking with joy as she chased Irene. Irene, equally loud, ran like her life depended on it.

“Can someone come manage this little terror?!” Irene shouted. “Huh?! Nobody cares about doll rights, is that it?!”

“I’ll go watch them,” Princess Rapunzel said with a helpless smile. She picked up Xiao Xiao’s backpack with one hand and walked lightly after them. “Xiao Xiao! Take a break, drink some water, then you can play again!”

Yu Sheng sat down at the edge of the platform and watched, amused—Rapunzel fussing, Xiao Xiao chattering excitedly, Irene trying furiously to negotiate with a child who did not negotiate with anyone.

Then he turned to Little Red Riding Hood, who stood beside him, silent.

“Does tomorrow feel worth looking forward to now?” he asked.

Little Red Riding Hood stared into the distance. After a moment, she spoke softly, as if afraid that raising her voice would snap something fragile.

“The black forest… and the other subsets in fairy tale… can they become like this too?”

“I still don’t know how to fight fairy tale’s main body,” Yu Sheng said, “but we can start with the black forest. From what we’ve seen, even though the black forest is an awareness space, it still follows the rules of a normal otherworld in most ways. And the entities it creates—mainly wolves—aren’t invincible. They’re affected by my blood.”

He spoke calmly, as if laying stones in a path.

“The key problem is finding the black forest’s real core. The most essential part. I don’t think it’s a wolf.”

Little Red Riding Hood’s eyes widened. “Not a wolf?”

“For the story of Little Red Riding Hood,” Yu Sheng said, “what’s so special about the wolf?”

She went blank, unable to follow the jump.

Yu Sheng continued, voice patient. “If fairy tale is a collection of stories, and each subset is one story, then no single element inside the story can represent the story by itself. Not a single wolf. Not a single Hunter. Not even a single Little Red Riding Hood. And the black forest… can’t represent the story either.”

Little Red Riding Hood’s expression shifted into thought.

“This valley wasn’t like that,” Yu Sheng said. “Here, hunger was the only core. Every rule, even the environment itself, was built around hunger. That’s how most standard otherworlds work.”

He gestured toward the open land. “But the black forest’s rules are unusually complex. Every role in the forest—Little Red Riding Hood, Big Bad Wolf, Grandmother, Hunter, maybe even that mysterious Squirrel—each one is just a link in the system. They’re surface pieces.”

As he spoke, he lifted his hand and swept it gently through the air.

With a low grinding sound, the ground beside the platform bulged upward. Soil and rock rose and shaped themselves into a tiny “stage.” On it, crude, ugly little figures formed from stone rolled and ran. Some shattered quickly, but new actors rose up and kept moving in blind, meaningless patterns.

“I thought of this after what happened to Xiao Xiao,” Yu Sheng said, controlling the rough stage as he spoke. “But you’re involved from inside the story, limited by the Little Red Riding Hood perspective. That makes it harder for you to notice.”

Little Red Riding Hood watched the stage, tense.

“Your attention has always been fixed on the Big Bad Wolf,” Yu Sheng continued, “so of course you treat the wolf as the ultimate villain of the black forest subset. But from outside the story, I realized something.”

He looked at her. “The thing I need to kill isn’t the villain in the story.”

Little Red Riding Hood didn’t speak.

“Or to put it another way,” Yu Sheng said, “I already killed a ‘villain’ once. Wolf Granny—the one that devoured Xiao Xiao. From Xiao Xiao’s point of view, it was the final enemy.”

His gaze grew colder. “But when I killed it, all I felt was emptiness. The black forest didn’t change. The wolf pack was still there. The forest was still there. I could still feel those gazes. Next time Xiao Xiao fell into the forest, a new Wolf Granny would still be waiting in the dark at the end.”

He tapped the edge of the platform, slow and deliberate. “Because the script was never damaged.”

Little Red Riding Hood stared at the rolling stone actors. After a long moment, she said, almost to herself, “So what needs to be killed… is the story itself.”

“Yes.” Yu Sheng nodded. “The story. Though it might not be killable. Maybe we can control it, tamper with it, even tear it apart. But to do that, we can’t keep staring at the surface actors. We have to find the story’s vital point.”

He pointed to the tiny stage. “Like this stage. What do you think its true nature is? Its core?”

Little Red Riding Hood froze, thinking hard—but the answer wouldn’t come.

Yu Sheng laughed quietly and tapped his own temple. “The answer is right in front of you.”

He met her eyes. “It’s me.”

With a flick of his hand, the crude stage shattered with a dull bang. Soil and stones collapsed into clumps and sank back into the earth as if the whole thing had never existed.

Little Red Riding Hood sucked in a breath. “You mean… behind the black forest, there’s a storyteller?”

“Not necessarily a person,” Yu Sheng said, “but definitely a source. It could be fairy tale’s main body. Or it could be a tentacle extended from it.”

His voice stayed calm, but something sharp hid beneath it. “Ever since the first time I entered the black forest, I’ve been looking for that tentacle. This time we found that special little house in the deepest part of the forest, and I thought it was there.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t. That house was just a special corner of the stage. We’re still circling around on the front of the stage, while whatever shapes the black forest is hiding backstage.”

“I…” Little Red Riding Hood stared at him, disbelief and awe mixing on her face. “I didn’t think you’d thought this far. I never looked at the black forest like that before.”

Yu Sheng smiled. “Because I’m a hateful lord. Hateful lords love using boring rational thinking to poke holes in children’s stories.” His grin turned wry. “Our favorite line is: ‘Someone made all this up.’”

Little Red Riding Hood froze—then laughed too. “So that’s why fairy tale doesn’t like lords.”

“That’s fine.” Yu Sheng stood and dusted off his hands. “I didn’t come here to be liked.”

He looked toward where Princess Rapunzel was corralling Xiao Xiao and where Irene was still loudly protesting her treatment.

“All right,” he said. “Field trip’s over. The kid should go home.”