Chapter 183

Chapter 183: Yu Sheng’s Temporary Plan

Yu Sheng wasn’t surprised by her answer. He didn’t have a clear lead either.

Instinct told him the two matters were connected. Little Red Riding Hood and Old Zheng were both tangled in the Fairy Tale otherworld, and the angel cultists had targeted them both. The sacrifice in the White Exhibition Hall was deliberate—too deliberate to be random.

But like she said, they still lacked the key link.

What did the cultists actually want?

A sacrifice always has a purpose. They chose Little Red Riding Hood for a reason.

Then Yu Sheng remembered something—a detail he’d heard from the sacrificed victim when he “spoke” with them in the White Exhibition Hall.

A line the cultists had repeated during the ritual:

“Save the savior from the sea of suffering…”

Little Red Riding Hood turned at his mutter. “What did you say?”

“Their goal,” Yu Sheng said slowly. “‘Save the savior from the sea of suffering.’ And also ‘help His descent.’”

He met her eyes. “Is it possible that something about the Fairy Tale otherworld can help a dark angel break free from some kind of restraint? Or… that Fairy Tale itself is a ‘sacrifice’ they can use for a dark angel’s descent?”

Little Red Riding Hood’s eyes widened slightly.

“Just a direction,” Yu Sheng said. “When I go to the Special Operations Bureau, I’ll bring it up. Either way, we’ve got one more reason to solve Fairy Tale.”

She nodded once.

It was time to go back. The children at the orphanage were still waiting for their guardian, and Yu Sheng needed to get home—make sure the doll and fox hadn’t wrecked anything.

“Do you want a ride back?” Little Red Riding Hood asked, the faint wolf pack drifting around her.

“No.” Yu Sheng waved. “I’ll open a door.”

Then he remembered. “Oh—one more thing. Xiao Xiao also entered my ‘dream.’”

Little Red Riding Hood froze mid-step. Confusion flickered across her face, then recognition hit. “You mean that gray wasteland?!”

“Yeah,” Yu Sheng said. “Around noon. She said she took a nap and fell into the Black Forest. Wolves chased her, and somehow she escaped into that wasteland. I stayed with her for a bit. She wasn’t scared. And she even avoided a round of erosion from the Black Forest, so… it turned out to be a good thing.”

Little Red Riding Hood blinked, thinking. “If that’s true… Xiao Xiao was already awake before I left. She was excitedly telling her friends about some strange dream, but I was in a rush, so I didn’t pay attention.”

“Do you remember what it felt like when you entered that wasteland?” Yu Sheng asked.

She frowned, searching her memory. “…It happened when I was entering the Black Forest. I ran into the wolf pack and was about to hide. I’d only taken two steps when I got dizzy, and the next moment I was standing on unfamiliar grassland.”

They looked at each other, both thinking too hard for a rooftop conversation.

…

A phantom door opened in the air, and Yu Sheng stepped through.

The moment his foot touched the floor at home, a happy, muffled voice called from nearby, “Benefactor, you’re back!”

Yu Sheng looked over. Foxy was at the dining table, using chopsticks to wrap noodles into a bundle like a drumstick, chewing with sauce smeared across her face.

Then Irene’s voice came from behind him. “So? Did it go smoothly? After I left, did you find anything new?”

Yu Sheng turned and saw three Irenes piled on the coffee table. Two leaned over the computer—one typing while the other hugged the mouse with both hands. The third tilted her head, watching him with bright curiosity.

“Old Zheng’s case is complicated,” Yu Sheng said, hanging up his coat. “I’ll tell you later.”

He walked over and lifted a tissue to wipe Foxy’s face, then stopped halfway. His brows shot up. “Did you wipe your mouth with your tail again?”

“Benefactor, how did you know?” Foxy asked innocently.

“Because the tip of your tail is zhajiang-colored.”

“…Hehe.” Foxy smiled awkwardly, then casually yanked off her dirty tail and trotted to the bathroom. A moment later, the washing machine started.

Yu Sheng stared after her, stunned. “…Your tail can go in the washing machine?”

“Of course,” Foxy replied, as if he’d asked whether a spoon could go in a drawer. “A tail is hardly an inconvenient object.”

Yu Sheng’s eye twitched. He finally understood why the freshly washed clothes in this house had been collecting fox fur lately.

He exhaled, gave up on making sense of it, then looked at the room. “Alright. Everyone—pause eating and gaming for a minute. I need to say something.”

“I don’t need to pause,” Irene said, hopping down from the table. “I’ve got a body dedicated to listening. What is it?”

“I might have found a temporary way to keep Little Red Riding Hood and the other kids at the orphanage from being affected by Fairy Tale,” Yu Sheng said, expression serious. “Or put another way—an emergency shelter method when they get ‘eroded.’ It’s only an idea for now.”

Irene stared. “Huh? What method?”

“You remember how Xiao Xiao entered my ‘dream,’ right?” Yu Sheng sat beside Foxy and spoke carefully. “I compared notes with Little Red Riding Hood. Turns out she also ‘jumped’ into that wasteland while entering the Black Forest and being chased. And if you connect that to how Foxy appeared on that plain when her hunger erosion got dangerous, I’ve got a guess…”

Irene’s eyes widened. “You’re saying people who form a connection with you—and gain permission to enter that wasteland—can have their consciousness passively pulled there under lethal danger, like an automatic ‘avoid risk’ response?”

“It’s a guess,” Yu Sheng said, cautious even as excitement flickered underneath. “We still need to confirm how it triggers and how reliable it is. But Foxy, Little Red Riding Hood, and Xiao Xiao all seem to have entered it under the same logic.”

Foxy finally caught up, blinking. “So, Benefactor, you mean…”

“We can’t solve the whole Fairy Tale otherworld yet,” Yu Sheng said, “but if we can protect the kids who are being affected right now, that’s already a huge step forward. And even if it doesn’t work, there’s no real loss. At most I come back and drink two more bowls of brown sugar water.”

“Two bowls might not be enough,” Irene muttered. “You’d better ‘sleep’ for half an hour.”

“That’s a small problem,” Yu Sheng said, waving it off.

“Fine. Small problem,” Irene said, giving him a flat look. “Now for the big one. How are you going to do it?”

“How?” Yu Sheng blinked. “The simplest way. Let them touch my blood.”

Irene stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “So you’re going to gather dozens of minors in one place, and for efficiency you’ll probably have them form a circle, right? Then you walk around bleeding and smear blood on them one by one.”

Yu Sheng frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Try imagining the scene again,” Irene said, spreading her hands.

Yu Sheng did.

His expression slowly went blank.

Beside him, Foxy patted his arm with her tail. “Benefactor, where I’m from, even proper witch-blood art can’t be done like that. People who do it that way are usually evil cultivators—and halfway through, they get arrested by immortal law enforcement. Minimum three hundred years.”

Yu Sheng swallowed. “…Yeah. The vibe is definitely off.”

“The kids might agree,” he added weakly, “but the councilors’ security staff would probably report me on the spot…”

“So we need a method that looks normal,” Irene said, shrugging. “At the very least, it can’t look cultish.”

Yu Sheng frowned and thought hard.

He thought so hard his face cramped.

Then a dark spark lit behind his eyes. “How about this,” he said. “Instead of gathering the kids and smearing blood on them, we gather the kids and have them eat mao xue wang instead.”

Irene blinked, stunned into silence.

A beat later, she exploded. “Why do I feel like that’s even more cultish?!”

Yu Sheng turned to Foxy. “What do you think?”

Foxy stared at him for two seconds. Then she visibly swallowed. “Benefactor, I can taste-test first.”

Irene looked between the two of them, utterly dumbfounded.

Before she could jump in again, Yu Sheng suddenly smacked his own forehead. “Wait. We still need to think this through. Mao xue wang won’t work either.”

Irene sagged with relief. “I knew it, you—”

“Little kids might not handle spicy,” Yu Sheng finished, dead serious.

Irene stared at him.

“…What is wrong with you?!”