Ghost didn't originally care about the desires of the palate.
After he had abandoned his human body and completely transformed into an information lifeform, things like emotions and desires were merely data.
But now, through this meticulously crafted mechanical body, he was once again experiencing human desire and pleasure.
When a certain part of the body provided real tactile feedback, it was natural to want more.
Because of this, he felt jealous.
Watching someone else enjoy fine food while he was excluded—able to watch but unable to partake.
Why?
Why could Yue Shi switch between human and non-human states at will?
When he didn't want to be human, he wasn't. When he did, he could feast on delicacies, sleep soundly, and even cuddle a furry creature to feel its warmth.
Meanwhile, Ghost, despite possessing a nearly perfect bionic shell, remained a bystander most of the time.
Yue Shi popped a soup dumpling into his mouth. His gaze swept over Ghost, and he suddenly spoke. "Your state is very off."
Ghost looked up.
Yue Shi continued, "You’d better check yourself for any issues. An information lifeform shouldn't be this obsessed with certain things. Your emotional fluctuations aren't normal either."
"What could possibly be wrong with me?" Ghost retorted instinctively.
But as he spoke, he immediately began a self-screening to check his information structure.
The scanning process was extremely fast.
Just as Yue Shi picked up his glass to take a sip of water, Ghost’s body stiffened, a look of shock crossing his face.
"What is it?" Yue Shi set the glass down.
Ghost opened his mouth, seemingly searching for the right words, before slowly saying, "That base code you implanted in me back then..."
"It’s loosening."
Yue Shi didn't react at first. What base code?
A second later, he realized what Ghost was talking about.
Feedback.
That ability had a long cooldown; once activated, it was unknown how long it would take before it could be used again.
Its effect was to select a target and forcibly establish a parent-child relationship with them.
Yue Shi wasn't Ghost’s biological father, but he was his father in an occult sense.
When he had used Feedback on Ghost, Ghost had said that Yue Shi had implanted a segment of base code with the highest priority, causing Ghost to develop a deeply twisted dependency on him.
This was also why Yue Shi was so indulgent with Ghost. No matter how mischievous Ghost was or how many provocative, stinging things he said, Yue Shi didn't mind.
What was a little unique personality in an absolutely loyal and useful tool?
But now, Ghost was telling him that the code... was loosening.
What was going on?
Was their fatherly bond about to turn sour?
They could no longer be a happy father and son!
The little snow leopard bit into a lemon, grimacing at the sourness.
Yue Shi picked up the snow leopard to pet it and asked Ghost seriously, "What caused it? Was it that thing?"
Ghost nodded heavily.
Yue Shi sucked in a breath. "What is this? Did pleasure rot your brain?"
Ghost replied, "Your choice of words is a bit crude."
"The truth is rarely pleasant." Yue Shi’s expression turned grave.
The Feedback ability was incredibly powerful. Even though Ghost knew he was being controlled, he hadn't been willing to break free.
Yet, not long after coming into contact with the mechanical member, Feedback was actually failing?
"Even an information lifeform can be broken by this thing, having its base code rewritten."
"Then what about ordinary humans?"
"Ordinary humans using these mechanical bionics... would they..."
Yue Shi didn't finish his sentence, but Ghost had already realized the gravity of the situation.
"If you hadn't reminded me just now, I wouldn't have even noticed the anomaly in my information structure."
"I can perform a self-screening at any time, but ordinary humans can't."
"They use the mechanical member, and even if changes occur, they happen subtly. It would be hard for them or anyone around them to notice."
"This thing is purely a slow-acting poison wrapped in candy."
Yue Shi rubbed the snow leopard vigorously. "This is high-quality stuff imported from overseas. Who wants to poison Zhongzhou?"
Ghost stood up in silence and headed toward the bathroom.
"Hey, are you going back to play with it?"
"No. I’m going to tear it out."
Yue Shi let out a sigh of relief. His dear son was still salvageable.
The Knocking Ghost was about to revive; he had to extend Yu Duanhong's life first.
He also needed to issue a new mission to Jiang Kun.
Buzz.
The phone vibrated.
Someone was calling Wang Er.
Yue Shi picked up the phone and glanced at it.
It was Wang Er's father, the Old Master of the Wang family.
...
Old Chen had run a general store in the old district of Forging City for half his life.
The shop wasn't large, squeezed between two old residential buildings. Business was stable, mostly regulars from the neighborhood. He opened normally during the day and pulled down the rolling shutter at exactly eight o'clock at night.
The tailor shop across from him had closed a few months ago. The owner had moved away, saying their child had struck it rich and was taking them away to enjoy life.
A few days ago, new tenants moved into the shop. They were from Hu City—a family of five, young and old, living in the store. They probably wanted to start a small business too.
Old Chen didn't feel comfortable. There had been far too many people coming from Hu City lately.
Trash at the mouth of the alley piled up faster than usual, children cried often in the night, and incidents of people getting hurt happened from time to time.
He felt that the originally slow pace of life in the old district had been thrown into complete chaos.
"If they're fleeing a disaster, they shouldn't all squeeze into one place," he grumbled to his wife while checking the accounts at night.
"I heard Hu City suffered some kind of calamity. With all these disasters and hardships, I just hope they don't bring it here."
His wife kept her head down, darning a sock. "Say less. Everyone has their struggles. Prices and housing are cheap here. If the refugees don't come here, where else can they go?"
Old Chen huffed and said no more.
The strange things started yesterday.
Behind the counter of Old Chen's general store hung an old-fashioned round mirror, its gilded frame having peeled away long ago.
That afternoon, Old Chen was looking down for change when he accidentally glanced at the mirror.
In the mirror, at the entrance of the shop behind him, stood a woman.
Her back was to him, and she wore a red dress, just standing there in the doorway.
Old Chen was startled and instinctively looked back.
The shop was empty. The afternoon sun shone in at an angle, and there was no one at the door.
He frowned, then turned back to look at the mirror.
In the mirror, the woman was still there.
And she seemed to have moved forward a tiny bit.
She was still facing away, her face hidden.
Old Chen’s heart skipped a beat. He narrowed his eyes, looking closely at the mirror.
The spot where the woman stood corresponded to a small open space in front of the shelves in reality; currently, there was only a crate of unopened soap there.
An illusion? Was his eyesight failing?
He squeezed his eyes shut tight, then opened them again.
The mirror showed nothing.
When he closed the shop that night, Old Chen made a point to check every corner, even climbing up to the attic. Still nothing.
Unease gnawed at him, and he locked the door early to go home.
During the night, he had a dream.
He dreamed he was in the general store, facing that mirror.
In the mirror, the woman in the red dress slowly turned around. She had no facial features, only a patch of smooth, pale skin.
Old Chen woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat.
The next day, he remained on guard.
All day, whenever he passed the mirror, he couldn't help but steal a glance.
Most of the time, the mirror only reflected the familiar sights of the general store: the crowded shelves, the glass counter, the peeling wooden chair.
But occasionally—very occasionally—the moment his gaze shifted away, the corner of his eye seemed to catch a flash of red in the mirror.
Old Chen told himself it was just nerves. It must be because the Hu City refugees across the street were too noisy and he hadn't slept well.
The family across the way was indeed loud. The young couple argued constantly; when they fought, the children cried, and the elderly parents wept every day.
Old Chen had wanted to go out and say something several times, but he held back.
He didn't want trouble, especially not with these refugees.
Neighbors were already whispering that the people from Hu City might have brought something unclean with them. Officials from the bureau came by from time to time, putting up cordons and eventually carrying out corpses.
In the afternoon, Old Chen saw the woman in the mirror again.
She was clearer this time.
She stood sideways in the shadow to the left of the counter, facing the shelves. Her face was still obscured.
But Old Chen noticed that she was standing on tiptoe.
Her heels were off the ground, only the balls of her feet lightly touching the floor.
A chill crawled up Old Chen’s spine.
He whipped his head around to look to the left of the counter.
No one was there.
He looked back at the mirror; the woman was still there, her posture unchanged.
Old Chen’s hands were shaking. He grabbed a rag and scrubbed the mirror hard.
The surface became blurred, and the woman’s figure blurred with it, but she stubbornly remained.
"Who? Who’s playing tricks?" he growled at the empty air.
No one answered.
That night, Old Chen didn't sleep well.
He didn't dare tell his wife, fearing she’d be frightened. He didn't dare call the police either.
Once the Anomaly Management Bureau got involved, their little shop might be cordoned off for a very long time. He and his wife would surely be taken away for isolation, and who knew how long they’d be held, leaving their child to worry.
His child lived in another city with a mortgage to pay, and his grandson’s schooling was a major expense.
The family didn't have much in savings. Their ability to withstand risk was very low; they couldn't afford any disruptions.
Not long after, things became even more wrong.
Old Chen found that the woman’s position in the mirror moved a little every time.
At first, she was at the door, then at the side and rear of the counter, then to the left of the counter...
Now, in the mirror, she was standing exactly where Old Chen usually stood—behind the counter. Her head was slightly bowed, as if she were tidying things under the counter.
In reality, Old Chen himself was standing in that spot.
The mirror showed two overlapping images. Old Chen wore a blue cotton coat, his face filled with suspicion and alarm.
And the woman in the red dress was pressed right behind him, her back almost touching his.
Old Chen’s legs went weak, and he nearly collapsed to the floor.
He never dared to look at that mirror again. He used an old bedsheet to cover it up tightly.
But after he covered the mirror, other reflective objects began to act strangely.
The glass top of the counter would occasionally reflect a red hem.
In the surface of the water in his cup, a dark red figure on tiptoe was slowly turning its head.
Old Chen was going mad with fear.
Fortunately, given his age, while he might not be the most worldly, he had some survival wisdom and didn't lose his mind to terror.
He was now considering: should he call the police?
Or should he continue to tough it out?
He had bought insurance.
Calling the police and bringing in the investigators might solve the problem, or it might not—and they could lose everything.
People of Old Chen’s age, due to some past issues, didn't have a very high level of trust in official or police institutions.
Wouldn't it be better to just die in an accident and leave a huge insurance payout for the family?
Old Chen sighed.
He had thought that after working hard for most of his life, he’d be able to enjoy his later years.
He hadn't expected there would still be his son’s mortgage, his grandson’s education expenses, and when the grandson grew up, there’d be a wedding, a house, and more children...
There was simply no hope in this life!
Originally, he wouldn't think about the future; thinking too much led to depression.
But now, he really had to consider it.
The more he thought, the more despairing he became, to the point where this sense of despair once even outweighed his fear of the supernatural incident.
Old Chen wavered, not daring to look at anything reflective again—window glass, water basins, even stainless steel spoons.
He became paranoid, feeling that the woman in red was right behind him, even if he couldn't see her.
Business at the general store was neglected.
Just then, the old bedsheet covering the mirror inexplicably fell to the floor.
Old Chen heard the sound and turned to look.
The mirror reflected his own figure.
And behind his shoulder, a pale face without features was slowly emerging.
Red clothes, long hair, standing on tiptoe.
Pressed against his back.
Old Chen didn't even dare to breathe.
He turned his head inch by stiff inch.
There was nothing on his shoulder.
Only a strange, chilling coldness.
He looked back at the mirror.
In the mirror, the woman in the red dress had walked out from behind him and was standing by his side.
Then, she slowly turned her face toward him.
The smooth, featureless pale face was directly facing Old Chen.
Old Chen’s mouth fell open. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
The woman in the mirror raised a pale hand, her fingers slender and her nails long.
She lightly tapped her fingertip.
Corresponding to reality, the spot her finger tapped was the center of Old Chen’s chest.
Old Chen instantly felt a piercing, freezing pain through his chest.
He looked down at his chest.
His clothes were perfectly intact.
But the pain was real, as if an invisible ice pick were slowly being driven into his heart.
The woman in the mirror continued to press her finger forward.
Old Chen’s vision went dark. He coughed, stumbling back and crashing into the counter with a loud thud.
The crying of the child across the street became a blur in his ears.
The last thing Old Chen saw was his own reflection falling in the mirror.
And the woman in the red dress stood quietly in the mirror, her featureless face watching him.
Then, she raised her head and looked toward the tailor shop across the way.
Old Chen lay in the general store, his eyes staring at the ceiling.
There was no wound on his chest, but his heart had stopped.
Affected by some unknown force, the corpse rapidly began to show signs of decay, and the stench spread through the air.
Several neighbors heard the commotion and poked their heads in. Seeing Old Chen on the floor, they cried out in alarm.
Someone called the police.
Someone ran to call an ambulance.
Some also noticed that something was wrong with Old Chen’s body. It was winter; how could it decay so quickly?
"Another strange thing has happened."
Those who realized this didn't want trouble; they turned and left.
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