The Young Girl's Chronicles of Demon-Slaying

Chapter 4: Unconscious

Come to think of it, Fang Heng’s fate was rather tragic. When he was young, his parents—whether for money or some other reason—sold him to someone else. Since then, he has lived with this family. At first, since he was a boy, the family treated him quite well. However, since he was already quite old—six or seven years old—when he was sold, and understood a thing or two, he couldn’t settle down. He was constantly longing to leave this place, return to his own home, and find his biological parents. After he ran away and caused trouble time and time again, the family grew impatient, seeing him as an ungrateful child who would never be tamed. So they chained him up in the woodshed and fed him sporadically, sometimes giving him a meal, sometimes not. Fortunately, he had been a smart child, and his parents had always taught him to ask the police for help when he encountered trouble. So one day, through a small window in the woodshed, he signaled for help to a villager passing by and was eventually rescued. However, since his parents could not be found, he was sent to an Orphanage. Life at the Orphanage, while not ideal, was far better than being chained up and going hungry. Perhaps because of his experience of being locked up after trying to escape, he never dared to run away again. Unable to find his biological parents, he stayed at the Orphanage. During that time, many people wanted to adopt him, but he turned them all down. He always believed that his biological parents would surely come to the Orphanage to take him home. However, he ended up waiting for ten years. According to adoption laws, children over the age of fourteen are ineligible for adoption. He had, of course, long since passed that age, so he had no choice but to remain at the Orphanage, treating it as his home. Over the course of those ten years—through elementary school, middle school, and high school—he gradually came to realize that he had, in fact, been sold by his own parents; regardless of the reason, he was an orphan. From then on, he gave up on searching for his parents and focused on living his own life. The hatred he felt toward his parents for abandoning him was buried deep within his heart after he decided to change his name. The name Fang Heng was, in a sense, one he chose for himself. His experiences before the age of seventeen made him seem very mature. Although he lived in an Orphanage, he always worked part-time while studying to earn his own living and pay his tuition, all the way through college. After graduation, he held several jobs but quit each one because he wasn’t satisfied. He had actually only recently arrived in Yashan City; it took him half a month to find his current job, which was largely in line with his field of study. However, he’d only been on the job for half a month—just as he was getting used to the work environment and his colleagues—when this bizarre incident occurred. Could it be that fate really has it in for him, deliberately making things difficult for him? Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair, leaving his ear-length black hair a tangled mess. Just then, he suddenly heard a somewhat familiar voice. Following the sound, he saw three coworkers—roommates he’d known for half a month—who were just returning from work and happened to be passing by. Seeing these three colleagues he was somewhat familiar with, a sudden impulse welled up inside him. He got up from his chair, just as he was about to rush over, but then suddenly stopped in his tracks. He was Fang Heng. Although his body was different now, he was certain he was Fang Heng—not some false memory or hallucination; he was that twenty-four-year-old man, Fang Heng. But so what? He knew who he was, but would anyone believe him if he said so? What proof did he have to show that he was Fang Heng? None! He’d only been with the company for half a month; everything was just getting back on track, and his relationships with his colleagues had only recently begun to shift from mere acquaintances to true friends. Before that, their interactions had been largely in a phase of testing the waters and finding common ground—there was simply nothing memorable enough to prove who he was. He could recite his cell phone number and ID number by heart, but in the information age, such information had likely already been leaked—it was far from enough to convince anyone. More importantly, even if he rushed over right now to tell those two coworkers that he was Fang Heng—and they naively believed him—what good would it do? Would the company trust him enough to let him keep working? Or would they help him? How exactly? By keeping him on the payroll? In that brief moment, a flood of thoughts rushed through his mind. The more he thought, the clearer and more lucid his thoughts became—yet his mood grew increasingly gloomy. Only then did he realize that even if others knew he was Fang Heng—and believed he was Fang Heng—it would be completely meaningless. Not to mention that strangers had no obligation to help him; even if they were kind-hearted and wanted to assist him, they didn’t possess any magical powers, so there was simply nothing they could do. So was he destined to become a homeless orphan on the streets? Perhaps he’d even be sent to an orphanage. As this thought crossed his mind, he momentarily lost his train of thought. He took a few steps back, then sat back down in his chair, watching the three of them gradually walk away until they finally entered a row house and disappeared from sight. Although they had left, she didn’t get up; instead, she just sat there, staring blankly into space. Every now and then, passersby would glance at her, wondering what this little girl, sitting here all alone, was doing. Was she a local resident? Otherwise, she wouldn’t be sitting outside wearing a hospital gown. The lights in the Square remained bright and steady, while time ticked by, second by second. Before she knew it, it was past ten at night. Having had nothing but a little congee that morning, her stomach had long since been growling with hunger, yet she seemed oblivious to it, sitting motionless as if turned to stone—until a voice rang out beside her, startling her back to reality. “Little girl, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Aren’t you going home?” The speaker was a young man wearing a white tank top and shorts, with flip-flops on his feet. Fang Heng glanced around and only then realized it was already very late. The Square was deserted, and there were few people walking along the nearby street. He looked up and saw a strange gleam flash in the young man’s eyes. It startled him, and a series of gruesome scenes—all sorts of gruesome poses—flashed through his mind in an instant, sending a chill down his spine. Seeing that Fang Heng didn’t seem to react, the young man glanced around. Apparently satisfied that no one was nearby, he looked back at Fang Heng—the strange gleam in his eyes now even more intense—and said, “Little sister, it’s so late. It’s dangerous to be out here alone. If you don’t have a place to stay, you’re welcome to spend the night at Uncle’s place.” Before he could finish speaking, he seemed almost impatient as he reached out and grabbed Fang Heng’s left arm. But just then, Fang Heng snapped out of it. Before he could get a firm grip, she jerked violently, shaking off his hand, leaped off the chair, and turned to run in the opposite direction down the street. He didn’t look back, nor did he know if the man was chasing him. He just kept running and running. But he was so hungry that he had no energy left; after running for only a short while, he began to pant heavily and gradually slowed to a walk. After walking just a few steps, he found himself leaning against a wall for support. But after walking a few steps while leaning on the wall, he felt a bit dizzy and couldn’t help but lean against the wall, coming to a standstill. After a while, he felt as if he had regained a little strength, so he straightened up, still holding onto the wall, and tried to move forward. But he didn’t notice that the courtyard wall had ended long ago; just ahead was the front gate of someone else’s house. Before he could take a single step forward, his hand lost its grip, and his whole body fell to the left. His head slammed into the stainless-steel gate with a loud clang, and he immediately lost consciousness. Lin Yuqin, who was watching TV in the living room, suddenly heard a loud bang coming from her courtyard gate. Startled, she looked up at the wall clock—it was not yet 10:20. Her husband probably wouldn’t be back for a while, and besides, he had a key and wouldn’t need to knock. Could a burglar have broken into the yard? She furrowed her brow, got up, stepped out of the room, and stood in the doorway, peering outside. Since her husband hadn’t come home yet, the light in the courtyard was still on. The front yard wasn’t very big to begin with, and there wasn’t much in it—just some vegetables planted along the wall and a healthy osmanthus tree in the corner. Under the glow of the lights, while the yard wasn’t completely bathed in light, she could still see everything at a glance—there was nowhere for anyone to hide. There was no one in the yard, so it must be outside the yard. It was so late; opening the gate to look out so abruptly seemed a bit dangerous. But driven by curiosity, she thought for a moment, then made her way to the courtyard gate. First, she hooked the chains onto both gates, and only then did she unlock them and open the gate just a crack. The lights outside were also on, illuminating the pavement brightly. Peering through the crack in the door, she saw no one outside. Just as she was about to close the door, she suddenly felt something on the ground flash before her eyes. She looked down closely and was startled to see a strand of hair. She hurriedly opened the door and discovered a child lying unconscious right in front of her house. Without a moment’s hesitation, she followed the first-aid procedures her husband had taught her and performed a quick check. Finding no visible injuries—it seemed the child had merely fainted—she picked her up in her arms and closed the door behind her. She carried the child to the sofa in the living room and brushed aside the tangled hair covering her face. To her surprise, Lin Yuqin realized it was the little girl she’d rescued from the lake just yesterday. Wasn’t this little girl sent to the hospital? How could she be here? She took a closer look and noticed the little girl was still wearing her hospital gown, which immediately sparked a suspicion in her mind. She stood up, turned down the volume on the TV, picked up the cell phone from the coffee table, and dialed her husband, who was still working overtime at the hospital. After a moment, the call connected, and a familiar voice came through. “Hello? What’s wrong?” “Are you still at the hospital?” Lin Yuqin asked. “Yeah!” “I have a question. That little girl who was rescued from the lake yesterday—did she run away from the hospital?” “How did you know?” The voice on the other end sounded slightly surprised. “This morning I took the congee you made over there and had a nurse feed it to her. I’d only been gone a short while—the police hadn’t even arrived yet—and she was already gone.” Lin Yuqin glanced helplessly at the person lying on the sofa and said, “Have you sent anyone to look for her?” “The police said they’d send people to look for her.” “Then tell them not to bother looking—she’s right here with me!” “Here? At your place?” The voice sounded very surprised. “Yes!” Lin Yuqin then recounted how she’d found the little girl, before asking, “She’s unconscious right now, but I checked her over—she has no injuries and no high fever. I don’t know what caused it.” “Probably… she fainted from hunger!” Although Song Wencheng wasn’t an outpatient doctor, he was a doctor nonetheless, and by piecing together his observations and making educated guesses, he was able to determine the basic situation. “She only had a little of the congee you made this morning, and she doesn’t have any money on her. I don’t know what she’s been doing out all day, but she definitely skipped lunch and dinner. Kids are still growing—they get hungry easily.” “Go cook some congee first! When she wakes up, have her drink some—she should be fine then.” “Okay!” “But just to be on the safe side, I’ll come back early to check on her.” “Okay, let’s do that. Bye!” Putting her phone away, Lin Yuqin glanced at the little girl, left the living room, and went upstairs. A moment later, she came back down with a blanket, which she draped over the girl, then turned and went into the kitchen. She turned on the stove, rinsed the rice, and prepared to cook some congee, just as her husband had suggested. She didn’t know how much time had passed when Fang Heng was awakened by hunger once more. In his daze, he seemed to catch a whiff of a very fragrant aroma—the same scent he’d smelled that morning at the hospital—which only made his stomach growl even louder. (End of Chapter)