Chapter 92: First Kiss
The car sped through the forest, a blood-red lightning bolt, the branches of the towering trees whipping past.
A fierce, greyish-green wind buffeted the car, the sky overcast, the sunlight barely filtering through the dense canopy, the trees a blur of green, the deep, ancient forest seemingly endless.
Xiang Er realized, with a start, that they were heading towards the mountains!
The mountains she had visited only once, yet a place she would never forget.
As the car wound along the mountain road, through the thick, thorny bushes, Xiang Er caught a glimpse of the small city below. The small, remote city she had visited when she was twenty-one, the city where she had bought that wooden carving, the carving that had brought this… thing… into her life.
It was… where it all began.
And now, this car, this speeding, blood-red car, was taking her deeper into the mountains, a remote, almost deserted region…
Xiang Er’s voice trembled as she turned and grabbed Akhe’s shoulder:
“Where… are we going?”
Akhe, her arms crossed, her profile serene, her gaze fixed on the small city below, a complex emotion in her eyes, turned to Xiang Er.
Her dark eyes, reflecting the deep green of the forest, held a deep, tender affection.
Her hand gently caressed Xiang Er’s cheek, her voice slightly unsteady:
“You’ll see when we get there.”
Xiang Er, her eyes wide with unease, asked:
“What… what are you planning to do?”
Akhe said:
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you… I would never hurt you, not even if it meant hurting myself.”
Xiang Er, reassured, still asked:
“And you… you won’t hurt this world either, right?”
Akhe hesitated, then smiled, her smile reflecting the wild, untamed beauty of the forest and mountains:
“I’ll try.”
Xiang Er’s heart sank, the answer unsettling, what… what was she planning?
She bit her lip nervously and reached out, grasping Akhe’s arm:
“You… you won’t hurt this world, will you? It’s… important to me.”
Xiang Er’s voice was soft, a hint of pleading in her tone, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked up at Akhe.
Akhe, touched by her vulnerability, forced a casual smile, trying to lighten the mood, her hand gently caressing Xiang Er’s cheek, her fingers lingering on the soft skin.
Her voice light and playful, she said:
“I was just joking, look how worried you are… so cute.”
But Xiang Er didn’t smile, her gaze fixed on Akhe, wary and watchful.
The red car, like a streak of lightning, sped along the winding mountain road, the shadows of the trees flickering across Xiang Er’s face, making her look like a fragile paper doll, not a living, breathing person.
Akhe stared at her, a long, lingering, almost hungry gaze.
Xiang Er suddenly reached out and gently touched Akhe’s arm, her eyes, in the shifting light and shadow, glistening with tears:
“Then… don’t hurt yourself either, okay?”
As she spoke, the car entered a tunnel, the roar of the wind filling their ears, drowning out everything but Xiang Er’s soft plea, her eyes shimmering with tears.
She was… worried about her.
Akhe, overwhelmed by this realization, couldn’t believe it, she even tried to reach out with her mental tendrils, to probe Xiang Er’s mind.
It was the same, a genuine concern, even deeper.
As they emerged from the tunnel, the light returning, Akhe’s smile was bright and gentle, seemingly carefree, as she took Xiang Er’s hand, patting it softly, and said:
“Okay.”
Perhaps she wasn’t lying, or perhaps… it was a monumental lie.
The world whizzed by, and as they drove deeper into the mountains, they occasionally passed small villages, the elderly residents, in their traditional clothes, carrying baskets on their backs, fleeting glimpses before they disappeared.
Xiang Er unconsciously searched for the woman who had sold her the carving, but of course, she didn’t see her.
Akhe explained:
“The wood used for those carvings does carry my… essence, but it doesn’t usually react to human blood, only you, you’re special, your blood… it called to me, it awakened me from my slumber…”
Xiang Er frowned:
“So you decided to become a stalker?”
Akhe nodded:
“Yes, it was a… mistake. I sometimes wonder… if I hadn’t awakened, would things have been different… never mind.”
She turned her gaze towards the window, no longer speaking, and Xiang Er felt a growing unease.
Something was about to happen… but what? She couldn’t figure it out.
The car reached the end of the road, the path ahead leading into the deep mountains. The sports car wasn’t designed for such terrain, and Akhe and Xiang Er got out, walking side by side along the dirt path.
The deep mountains were perpetually shrouded in mist, their vision limited, barely able to see each other’s faces. Xiang Er stumbled along the uneven path, and soon, Akhe gently lifted her with a tentacle.
She sat on the thick, secure tentacle, almost completely enveloped, Akhe’s voice, carried by the mist, reaching her ear:
“Hold on tight.”
A high-pitched whine, like a phoenix’s cry, echoed through the air, and Xiang Er, with a gasp, clutched the tentacle as she was lifted high into the sky!
They looked down, the contours of the mountains and forests emerging from the mist, ancient trees brushing against their feet, glimpses of unseen animals in the woods below, a world untouched by humans, slowly revealing itself, the cold, sharp air carrying a metallic tang, like ancient secrets unveiled.
Xiang Er was mesmerized, until they landed.
Akhe extended dozens of tentacles, their movements slow and deliberate, as they descended into the deserted valley, gently placing Xiang Er on the ground before retracting, the tentacles coiling behind her like a cluster of tails.
And before them… Xiang Er looked up, her mouth open in astonishment, as if in a dream.
It was a temple.
In the deepest part of the valley, a black stream snaked through the mist, bones scattered across the ground, the earth a dark red, as if stained with ancient blood.
And the temple gates, over thirty feet tall, made of massive wooden beams, their surfaces covered in a blood-red paint, adorned with mysterious symbols, the pillars carved with intricate, tentacle-like patterns, the red paint thick and crude.
The doors, made of wooden planks, painted with images of tentacles, eyes, and other strange symbols, were closed.
Xiang Er was stunned.
She could see that the entire temple was carved in the same style, a primitive, almost brutal aesthetic, a wild, untamed beauty that defied all modern conventions.
It was… exactly the same style, the same colors, the same symbols as the wooden carving.
Before she could speak, Akhe’s voice, solemn and echoing, said beside her:
“This is my temple.”
Xiang Er turned, and behind Akhe’s human form, countless black tentacles unfurled, like rivers of darkness, the mist in the sky turning red and black, the world closing in on her.
Akhe’s face glowed faintly, and she said:
“Enter with me.”
Her voice echoed through the valley, the trees trembling, her command absolute.
Xiang Er involuntarily followed. She reached the gates, and they opened automatically, a musty smell of decaying wood and damp stone emanating from within, and she looked inside, too stunned to speak.
The interior of the temple was even larger, more magnificent than the outside, its pillars and beams intricately carved, the floor paved with expensive green tiles, countless terrifying images, vividly depicted, crawling across the surfaces, not just tentacles and eyes, but all the grotesque creatures of human nightmares.
And in the center of the floor… a giant, circular altar.
The altar was piled high with bones, fur, fat, and ashes, and even… human skulls.
Xiang Er stood before the altar, her senses overwhelmed by the pungent stench, a familiar stench, the primal, terrifying scent of the Evil God’s true form.
Akhe entered the temple, and as she did, the oil lamps on the walls flickered to life, one by one.
Akhe also stood before the altar, her small figure, dwarfed by its height, like a tiny sprite with a trailing tail.
Xiang Er, speechless, looked at Akhe and asked, her voice filled with a sudden dread:
“Is it… time?”
Akhe raised an eyebrow:
“Hmm?”
Xiang Er said:
“Is it time? Is my offering… ready? Are you going to throw me into the altar now?”
Akhe chuckled:
“No, of course not. I brought you here… to give you a small gift.”
She walked towards the back of the altar, where a wooden throne sat atop a small set of stairs, its design, compared to the altar, surprisingly plain, except for a large obsidian embedded in its back.
Akhe sat on the throne, her finger gently touching the obsidian. The throne split open, revealing a dark abyss beneath.
Akhe said:
“Look.”
Xiang Er cautiously approached and looked inside. The abyss was empty, except for… a large, softly glowing red stone.
Akhe said:
“That’s my heart.”
She said this casually, her finger beckoning.
The so-called heart, pulled by some invisible force, rose from the abyss, shattering the throne, the obsidian, and the stairs, creating a large hole in the floor, before finally hovering in mid-air.
The giant, irregular stone, the size of a small hill, radiated a soft, red light that illuminated the entire temple. Akhe’s tentacles extended, wrapping around the stone, absorbing its red glow, the tentacles writhing and pulsing, as if compressing something.
Xiang Er, sensing what was happening, asked, slightly puzzled:
“What are you… doing?”
Akhe stood beside her, her human body like an empty shell, her gaze fixed on the stone above, her expression serene, unwavering, but she didn’t answer.
She didn’t show any sign of pain, but Xiang Er, watching, felt a growing ache in her own chest.
It was as if she could feel Akhe’s heart being squeezed, the tentacles straining, some of them even snapping, falling to the floor, absorbed by the black slime, then regrowing.
It seemed to be a strenuous task, yet Akhe’s expression remained calm and effortless.
What… was she doing this for?
After a long time, the giant red stone was finally compressed into a fist-sized object, wrapped in a tentacle, and offered to Xiang Er.
“This is for you, this is why I brought you here.”
Akhe’s voice, low and hoarse, whispered.
Xiang Er looked at the object. The red stone had been forcibly shaped into a perfect heart, translucent, glowing red, a stark contrast to the ancient, terrifying temple.
Akhe continued:
“When we had coffee for the first time, we received those heart-shaped cards, and I learned that offering one’s heart is a common way for you humans to confess your love. This is my true, my only heart, if it is destroyed, I will also be destroyed. Now, I’m giving it to you.”
She looked at Xiang Er, her beautiful face like an eternal statue, her eyes filled with tenderness:
“I want you to know, I will always love you, Little Ears.”
Xiang Er’s hand trembled, she didn’t know if she should accept this… heavy gift.
Akhe, cupping the glowing heart-shaped gem in her hand, gently placed it in Xiang Er’s palm.
It was heavy, almost too heavy to hold.
Akhe then said:
“There’s one more thing… I want to give you a dream… or perhaps, another life.”
Akhe’s finger gently touched Xiang Er’s temple, and a stream of unfamiliar memories flowed into her mind.
It was a strange sensation… Xiang Er still remembered her own life, her own memories, but with a thought, she could switch to this other life, these memories as real, even more real, than her own.
Like having two lives simultaneously.
In this other life, Xiang Er had been born into a loving family, growing up in a bright, clean home, her father playing with her as she learned to talk, her mother holding her when she fell, a fluffy black kitten her constant companion. Lullabies, glow-in-the-dark stars on her bedroom ceiling, her gentle mother, her talkative father, the warmth and comfort of a loving home.
She had gone to kindergarten, where the other children were kind, no one ever stole her candy, they even shared theirs with her, eager to be her friend. Elementary school was the same, good grades, popular, family outings on weekends, pictures taken amidst fields of flowers, falling asleep in her mother’s arms, sipping a sweet drink.
In middle school, she hadn’t boarded, staying at home with her loving parents, her rebellious phase, brief and mild, her parents understanding and supportive.
In high school, still living at home, the pressure of studies mounting, but her grades excellent, a natural talent for the humanities, earning her praise from her teachers. She had performed on stage, her singing voice captivating the audience, becoming the school’s most popular girl. She had received love letters, politely declining them, discussing them with her parents. She was well-read, traveled abroad during school breaks, learned to scuba dive and play golf…
She had been accepted into her dream university, her college life a happy blur. And there, she had met Shen Yuhe, the most popular, the most accomplished senior in the entire school.
And she had fallen in love with Shen Yuhe, at first sight.
Their love was beautiful, a dreamlike romance, Shen Yuhe completely captivating… and this time, there were no secrets, no lies.
Shen Yuhe was honest, sincere, completely devoted to her.
After a few blissful years together, Xiang Er nervously confessed their relationship to her parents, expecting their disapproval, but her parents, after a long silence, had simply said:
“As long as she makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”
Xiang Er had brought Shen Yuhe home to meet her parents.
Xiang Er, after graduating, had found a good, stable job, with no demanding bosses, no harassment. She worked in a field she loved, a normal nine-to-five schedule, her parents buying her an apartment in the city.
Shen Yuhe had also bought an apartment, its decor chosen entirely by Xiang Er, pink curtains, a tea table, and they had moved in together, their love nest, adopting a small, black kitten they named “Ball Ball.”
Ball Ball would always curl up at Xiang Er’s feet while she was reading, a small, black, furry ball, its tail swaying like a tentacle, occasionally wrapping around her ankle.
Ball Ball was very attached to her.
They had gotten married, two women in white dresses, exchanging vows, their kiss witnessed by their family and friends.
They had lived a happy, ordinary life, no secrets, no lies, a world without anomalies, without investigators, without… Evil Gods.
In this alternate life, Xiang Er had everything she had ever wanted, a perfect, ordinary life.
She opened her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips, and saw the terrifying temple before her.
And there, standing before her, was Shen Yuhe… no, it was Akhe.
Akhe, in Shen Yuhe’s form, stood before her, smiling, and as Xiang Er opened her eyes, she asked:
“Do you…”
Before she could finish, Xiang Er reached out, her arms circling Akhe’s neck.
Her soft lips, after a long hesitation, finally, willingly, touched Akhe’s.
Xiang Er’s lips pressed against Akhe’s cool, soft mouth, and she sighed:
“I thought… I would prefer the you in my dream… but I can’t lie to myself.”
She pulled away slightly, her gaze locked onto Akhe’s dark, bottomless eyes, seeing her own flushed, yet resolute, face reflected in them.
She said:
“I still… love you more.”
This broken, lost, clueless, awkward, foolish… you.
Akhe froze, stunned, as if unable to move. Xiang Er was about to pull away when Akhe suddenly embraced her tightly.
Akhe, her arms wrapping around Xiang Er’s waist, her kiss fervent and desperate, claimed Xiang Er’s lips.
Xiang Er closed her eyes, surrendering, shedding her armor, her past, ready to embrace a new future, she couldn’t bear this torment any longer, this self-inflicted pain.
This was their true first kiss, a kiss freely given, a mutual surrender.