Chapter 34

“Maxed-Out Charm Attracts Dirty Things” — by 甜画舫

When Tang Yu repeatedly tried to convince himself of what he was seeing, he watched as Yu Gu’s large hand—still holding that “fruit”—moved toward him, like a brand-new mother eagerly wanting to share her joy with the father.

The joy and excitement in those amber eyes were obvious.

Tang Yu suddenly remembered an old movie—one about a monster who truly gained humanity only after giving birth to its child.

His heart trembled.

With a trace of secret, nameless dread, he looked again at Yu Gu. Their eyes met. He heard Yu Gu urge excitedly:

“Wifey, hurry, eat it while it’s warm.”

…What?

Tang Yu suspected he had misheard. His clear blue eyes stared at Yu Gu without blinking, filled with confusion, disbelief, and an even more complex emotion Yu Gu couldn’t read.

“Eat it, and wifey’s body will become super healthy! You’ll never get sick again. Your body will be as good as mine!” Yu Gu said proudly, as though presenting a treasure.

Eat… this child?

Tang Yu’s brows knit in pain. He asked slowly, almost mechanically, “Is this really… our child?”

“Of course! Our baby surpasses 99.99% of the children in the country—born able to nourish its parents!”

Yu Gu had researched it thoroughly. They always said “raise children to care for you in old age,” and the baby he gave his wife was truly the ultimate version of that—after eating this baby, one would never age, and physical stats would instantly jump to 9.9.

In stark contrast to Yu Gu’s excitement and pride, Tang Yu’s expression grew increasingly dazed and pained from the very first moment Yu Gu started explaining. Yu Gu kept talking, but the words became distant to Tang Yu. The sound the “fruit” made when it first appeared still lingered by his ear—

A thin, frail cry.

“It… it was crying just now, wasn’t it?” Tang Yu covered his ears, trembling in confusion.

“Yes. I thought letting it cry twice would make the moment more ceremonial. In dramas, babies always have crying sound effects when they’re born.” Yu Gu felt quite proud of his attention to detail.

9th floor
I’m not gonna say anything. I still wanna keep my account.

10th floor
Aaaah I’m dying of curiosity! I only know that one year the entire Class 623 got guaranteed postgraduate admission, but I don’t know what happened.

11th floor
What’s going on upstairs pulling ghost rumors now @moderator

12th floor
Honestly, it really sounds like something is clinging to you. Why don’t you summon Pen Fairy and ask what it wants?

13th floor replies to 12th floor
You’re seriously just watching the chaos unfold…

…

43rd floor
Where’s the OP? Why no updates?

44th floor
It’s finals week. No time to post green stories.

45th floor replies to 44th floor
But I just heard something—three people from 623 got guaranteed admission again.

47th floor
That’s ancient history.

48th floor
No… I mean THIS YEAR’s 623 batch also got guaranteed admission.

Chapter 27

The third day arrived.

The restless coffin finally became completely still.

Tang Yu sat blankly on the coffin lid, his flushed cheeks carrying an expression of exhaustion and dazed confusion.

…Was it over?

A white lantern drifted to his side, lighting the path beneath his feet.

Long-term oxygen deprivation, combined with the frightening ordeal he had just gone through, left Tang Yu slow to react. He didn’t realize the lantern was guiding him—he simply continued sitting there in a daze.

A sharp pain pricked at his knee where it pressed against the coffin.

Probably bruised—blue or purple by now.

“Lift—the—bride!”

The extravagant sedan chair, gilded and sparkling with pearls, swayed as it was carried. The tassels trembling on the canopy shivered with each jolt. The crisp chime of phoenix bells was drowned under continuous ceremonial music.

A black cat leaped onto a locust tree branch wrapped in red silk. Following behind the bridal procession, it opened its mouth and let out a piercing yowl—clear even amid the blaring suona horns.

Tang Yu’s lashes fluttered lightly, like butterfly wings. The cat’s cry snapped him awake. He sat in the sedan in confusion. The red tassels hanging from his bridal headpiece swayed with each jostle, shimmering as brightly as the moisture in his blue eyes.

He was… getting married?

His misty eyes stared blankly at the sea of red.

His foggy brain couldn’t process it. Instead, scattered memories drifted up.

Someone once told him:
“The word for marriage in Chinese contains the character for ‘confusion.’ Only when your mind is muddled would you think to get married.”

Tang Yu felt that his mind was indeed terribly muddled now. The drums and gongs pounding outside only worsened his headache.

He raised a hand and pressed his temples.

A floral scent clung to his nose. He touched the seat beneath him—empty on both sides. The sedan wasn’t big, and though he’d never sat in one, he’d seen enough period dramas to understand the layout.

There would only be one occupant inside: the bride.

Tang Yu instinctively reached for his phone…
Only to touch embroidered wedding garments on his body.

Modern people were not built to survive without their phones. Combined with the shaky, insecure environment inside the sedan, Tang Yu subconsciously lifted the red veil and looked outside.

Each side of the sedan had a small window, covered by a curtain embroidered with the character for “happiness.”

Under his gaze, one slightly quivering curtain was suddenly lifted—just a corner.

A small paper figurine crawled inside.

Tang Yu’s eyes widened as it jumped directly into his lap.

On the paper figure’s body was a freshly written line of still-wet ink:

“Joy born at the sight of a coffin.”

Tang Yu froze. Before he could puzzle out the meaning, a new suona horn sounded from ahead.

Unlike the mournful wedding horns around him, this one sounded like a hundred birds singing—full of life—yet utterly incompatible with the funereal bridal procession he was in. When both horns played together, they clashed violently, as though racing each other to tear the sedan roof open.

A wave of dizziness crashed over him.

…Like me?

I’m sick?

Tang Yu thought faintly.
So I am sick.
No wonder I feel so awful.
I’ve felt awful for so, so long…

What should I do?

Someone once said: if you’re sick, you should see a doctor.

But in his mind, a voice told him:

“No. A mediocre doctor can’t cure your illness.”

Not curable? Then was he being taken to be buried?

The voice snapped irritably:

“Bah bah bah! What nonsense! Spit that out!”

Should he drink talisman water instead?

Talisman water sounded superstitious… weird things entering your stomach felt unsafe…

The voice replied, full of joy:

“Wifey doesn’t need talisman water!”

Huh? Then what should he do?

From a childhood engagement, to mutual affection, to today’s pregnancy leading to marriage—

Everything had been so natural.

Yu Gu’s breath caught. A light, floating dizziness enveloped him completely!

Scarlet vines burst from his body, shredding every shadow and paper ghost around him—like a triumphant king announcing his victory!

The stiff smile that had been frozen on his face suddenly came alive. One by one, red vines sprouted from his chest, blooming into pure white flowers.

A dizzying floral scent drifted from each blossom.

Tang Yu stared at Yu Gu’s strange appearance, but in his dazed state, he didn’t register anything wrong. He had finally sorted out the matter of marriage and softly asked his chosen partner:

“How much farther is it to Mom and Dad’s old house?”

Yu Gu was covered in flowers—his face blooming with joy. He grinned foolishly at Tang Yu, his amber eyes sparkling.

“I’ll carry wifey there! We’ll reach Mom and Dad’s house in no time!” Yu Gu emphasized “Mom and Dad” loudly. And unlike before, Shen Junxing—who always reminded him to watch his wording—said nothing now. He simply stood silently.

…Carry?

He vaguely remembered refusing Yu Gu’s offer earlier. Why had he done that? His head was spinning—he couldn’t remember at all.

Tang Yu drowsily nodded. As soon as he did, Yu Gu couldn’t hold back anymore and lifted him up.

“Wife, you’re so light.” Yu Gu’s face turned red.

Tang Yu instinctively placed his hands on Yu Gu’s shoulders. Half his face pressed into the fragrant flowers blooming from Yu Gu’s chest. His legs dangled, swaying slightly. A red vine lightly circled his ankle, blooming a white flower at his feet. As his toes swayed, the sweet scent rippled outward.

He faintly heard Yu Gu whisper even softer:

“Wife, you smell so good.”

The petals tickled his nose. The scent made him want to sneeze, but he had no strength—he could barely yawn. Lying in Yu Gu’s arms, he murmured:

“You smell better…”

It felt like he was rolling through a sea of flowers. After slowly rolling twice, someone pulled him up excitedly:

“Wife! We’re here!”

Before him stood a two-story rural self-built house—far better looking than Tang Yu expected, resembling one in a small town.

Both then and now, many villagers who earned money outside chose to return and build a house in their hometown—whether they planned to live there or not. Tang Yu’s parents had been no exception.