Embrace That Vampire - Chapter 18.2

In the quiet, coolly decorated apartment, the rising aromatic steam and noisy jokes filled every corner, bringing the entire space to life.

“Professor Lu is so generous! This seafood is super expensive. When I cook hot pot at home, my parents can’t even bear to buy this much.”

They had already finished one round. As the new batch of food cooked, Du Jian’s eyes were practically glued to the pot.

An Lan: “Just a reminder: a few days ago, you said Professor Lu was terrifying and you didn’t even dare look him in the eye during class.”

“Fear and worship can coexist. They aren’t in conflict.” Du Jian shook his head. “Anyway, I’m officially declaring Professor Lu my male god!”

An Lan: “Fine. Tomorrow in class, I’ll make sure he calls on you to answer questions.”

Du Jian dropped his hands. “??? Are you freaking toxic?”

As Zeng Yichen watched them bicker, he noticed Pei Yun was covering his mouth and hissing. He asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Is it too spicy?”

Pei Yun shook his head. “No, it’s just a sudden toothache.”

His canine tooth was aching. Du Jian teased him mercilessly: “Pei Bao, you’re weak. Imagine getting a toothache just from eating hot pot.”

Pei Yun pressed the heel of his palm against the sore spot. “Just eat your food. All that eating still can’t stop your mouth from talking crap.”

Zeng Yichen: “I heard gargling salt water can relieve toothaches. If it really hurts that much, why don’t you try it?”

That might work. Pei Yun took the suggestion, got up, and went to the kitchen. When he returned, Zeng Yichen asked, “How is it? Better?”

Pei Yun: “It seems it doesn’t hurt as much as—”

“Holy sh*t! It looks like something happened at the ARI.” Du Jian caught a push notification on his phone and suddenly cried out. He abandoned his food, put down his chopsticks, and grabbed his phone to look closely.

Everyone’s attention was instantly drawn. “What happened?”

“Check your phones,” Du Jian said. “A news alert just came out. It says a vampire inside one of the modification tanks at the ARI went berserk.”

Pei Yun’s heart went cold. He opened his phone. A push notification from a minute ago: A vampire undergoing modification inside the ARI suddenly lost control and went berserk, attempting to break free from the tubes to escape. Fortunately, patrolling personnel discovered and controlled the situation in time. No casualties reported.

Thank God, everyone’s okay. Pei Yun breathed a sigh of relief. So that’s why Uncle said he’d be back late tonight?

“Why are there no pictures?” Du Jian scrolled down several pages. “Just two dry lines of text.”

An Lan: “What kind of pictures do you want?”

Du Jian: “It’s not that I ‘want’ them. It’s just that last time there was news like this from the ARI, there were always accompanying photos. And that situation was much more serious. This time there were no casualties, yet they didn’t even release a single photo.”

Pei Yun knew which “last time” Du Jian was talking about. It was about five years ago. The ARI had also issued a sudden public announcement saying a vampire in a modification tank had lost control, but that situation was much more severe than today’s “no casualties.”

That vampire had broken free from the tubes in the tank. He was covered in wounds and had lost a lot of blood. When he was discovered, he was at death’s door—breathing more out than in. Because the news was released in the early hours of the morning, Pei Yun, who had gone to bed early, hadn’t seen the so-called accompanying photos. By the time he woke up, all the images had been taken down.

He had heard about those scenes from the comments of netizens who had seen them; he had never seen them himself. Back then, he wasn’t in university yet and hadn’t “awakened.” A few lines of text hadn’t left a deep impression on him—at most, he just remembered it.

But since Du Jian had brought it up today, for some strange reason, he suddenly desperately wanted to know what the situation had been back then. What kind of scenes had those photos he missed recorded?

“Did you see the pictures back then?” he asked Du Jian.

Du Jian: “Of course. I was hiding under my covers watching videos when the alert popped up, so I clicked it immediately.”

Pei Yun (hesitantly): “What… what was it like?”

An Lan mentioned that the abalone was ready. Du Jian scooped some out while reminiscing. “It’s been so long I can’t remember the details. I just remember it was pretty bloody. The photo was just full of red. There was even blood seeping through the gaps in the glass, a sticky mess all over the floor… Oh right!”

He suddenly raised his voice, startling Pei Yun who was listening intently. “I think I saved the pictures back then! I’m not sure if they’re still there since I changed phones, though. Wait, let me check my cloud drive.”

The scene he described was already something Pei Yun felt he might not be able to handle just by imagining it. He wanted to stop him, but Du Jian had already found the photos with lightning speed.

“They’re still there! Holy sh*t! Even after all these years, looking at this is still shocking.”

An Lan glanced over and curled his lip. Even his usually matter-of-fact tone carried a hint of mockery: “It’s really not easy for them to keep doing something so cruel until today.”

Pei Yun both wanted to look and was terrified to look. While he was conflicted, the thick-headed Du Jian unexpectedly shoved the phone in front of his face.

“Here, Pei Bao. Didn’t you want to see?”

The phone brightness was at its max, and the photo was zoomed in. Pei Yun didn’t have time to dodge, and the bloody image on the screen crashed into his vision.

It looked like a real-time photo taken inside the modification plant. To prevent the internal environment of the plant from being leaked, the photo was focused strictly on the scene of the incident. Everything around the edges was blurred, forcing the viewer’s gaze to concentrate on the center—the dying vampire leaning against the glass tank.

The once clean glass was covered in handprint-shaped bloodstains. There was a small gap at the entrance, and a pair of skeletal legs—gender unknown—could be seen sliding out. The calves and feet were covered in blood, and one could faintly discern several holes the size of a thumb.

They were the spots where the tubes connected. Just on the legs, there were so many. Who knew how many were all over the body?

Pei Yun’s breath hitched. He felt as if he were nailed to the spot. The color drained from his face, and his limbs went cold. Only one thought filled his mind: This is my own kind.

If it weren’t for Lu Que, he would also be trapped in that cramped modification tank right now, with tubes sticking out of his entire body. Maybe one day, he would end up just like the person in the photo…

“Pei Bao? Pei Bao?” Du Jian waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Have you gone stupid? What are you thinking?”

Pei Yun snapped out of it and immediately looked away. “You’re the one who’s stupid.”

He gripped his chopsticks tightly to feign composure, though his palms had already broken out in a cold sweat. Du Jian observed his expression and put his phone away. “The phrase ‘scared yet curious’ was made for you. If you’re afraid, why be so curious? I won’t show you anymore.”

“I just didn’t react for a second,” Pei Yun urged quickly. “Hurry up and eat, it’ll overcook soon.”

“Oh right!” Du Jian grabbed his chopsticks. “Where are the goose intestines I just put in? An-an, help me find them, don’t let them melt away!”

Pei Yun’s hands were shaking. He tried to pick things up several times but couldn’t, so he eventually put down his chopsticks and stood up. “Why is it so spicy? I’m going to get another bottle of Coke.”

“Get me a can too, I finished mine!” “Got it.”

At nine o’clock, having finished all the food, Du Jian and the others conscientiously cleared everything away and tidied the kitchen before leaving.

Pei Yun saw them to the elevator. Once the doors closed, he finally allowed his shoulders to slump and closed his eyes. He leaned against the wall, pressing his palm to his brow; his temples were throbbing. His mind was a mess, and he couldn’t even figure out what he was thinking.

After an unknown amount of time, the sound of a door opening came from across the hall. It was the elderly couple who lived opposite them. At this time, they were probably heading down for a walk or to buy something at the supermarket. Pei Yun stood up straight, forced a smile to greet them, and then turned back home.

When he showered, he didn’t dare enter the glass shower stall. For the first time, he soaked in the bathtub he usually found too troublesome until he was warm, then crawled under his covers. He held his phone, not knowing what to do. After absentmindedly browsing Weibo for a while, he put it down and decided to sleep.

But those images were too persistent. Now, as soon as he closed his eyes, the photo automatically appeared in his mind. He cursed his damn curiosity!

Rustling, he sat up, found his headphones, and crawled back under the covers. Loud rock music flooded his eardrums. Good, he thought. Now I can finally close my eyes and focus on sleeping.

Half an hour later, he woke up with a start from a dream, his heart racing and his forehead soaked in sweat. The song in his headphones had looped countless times, its rhythm matching the speed of his heartbeat. He quickly pulled them off and threw them aside, trying to steady his heart in the quiet night.

The room was dark. The curtains were drawn tight, and not a sliver of light could get through. Perhaps because he hadn’t fully escaped the dream yet, he felt as if the darkness in the room had a strange similarity to the dim, bloody environment of his nightmare.

His throat was dry. He swallowed, sat on the bed holding his quilt for a few minutes, then hopped down and went to the living room.

The study and the guest bedroom were empty. Lu Que wasn’t back yet. He was all alone in this massive apartment. Pei Yun scratched his neck, went to the kitchen for a glass of cold water, then returned to the living room and turned on all the lights. He turned on the TV too. With sound in the house, he felt much more grounded.

The programs on the children’s channel sounded innocent and whimsical—perfect as background music when one desperately needed to relax. Pei Yun curled up on the sofa, wanting to send a message to his uncle to ask when he’d be back. After thinking back and forth, he couldn’t form a natural-sounding message, so he gave up and settled for watching a random gaming livestream instead.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep this time. What was different was that he didn’t wake up from a nightmare, but was woken by a hand on his shoulder and a low voice calling his name.

Opening his eyes, he saw the person he had been waiting for bending over to look at him.

“Why are you sleeping here?” Lu Que touched the back of his hand against Pei Yun’s face. Good, it’s not cold.

“I was going to go back to my room when I got sleepy, but I accidentally fell asleep.” Feeling the warmth of Lu Que’s hand, Pei Yun’s heart instantly felt at ease.

He told a lie and sat up against the sofa. He saw Lu Que was still wearing the clothes he’d left in that morning. “Uncle, you just got back?” He looked at the wall clock; it was nearly one in the morning.

Lu Que hummed in affirmation and stood up. “Go back to your room and sleep. It’s late.” He casually put his coat aside and turned toward the kitchen.

He stopped at the doorway and turned back to look at the “little tail” behind him. “Why are you following me?”

Pei Yun didn’t know. He had intended to go to his room, but when he saw Lu Que turn, he instinctively followed. Embarrassed by his own clinginess, he blamed his groggy brain. Not knowing how to answer, he changed the subject. “Uncle, were you at the ARI just now?”

Lu Que’s brow twitched slightly. “You saw the news?”

Pei Yun: “Mhm. I saw a little bit.”

Lu Que’s expression softened. “It was just a sudden accident. It’s all been handled. The vampire has completely returned to normal and wasn’t injured.”

Pei Yun said he knew. He actually wanted to ask if that vampire had been put back into the modification tank, but the words felt redundant. Where else could they be placed? Were they released?

His hesitant look combined with the low mood he was radiating made his thoughts practically written on his face. Lu Que watched him for a few seconds, then suddenly raised a hand and pressed his palm onto the top of the boy’s head.

Pei Yun felt a hand patting his head very gently twice—the sense of comforting and soothing was strong. “It’s fine. Don’t be afraid.”

Pei Yun hadn’t been comforted like this since he was eight. It was as if he were being treated like a fragile, senseless child. The sensation was unfamiliar, yet it felt indescribably good. All he knew was that when the hand moved away, he really wanted to grab it and put it back on his head.

I’m doomed. I really was a bit scared.

Thinking this, he abandoned the idea of stubbornly denying it. He ruffled his hair and prepared to return to his room. After walking a few steps, he thought of something and turned back to call Lu Que.

“Uncle.” His words were exceptionally sincere and serious. “Maybe when you sleep tonight, you should remember to lock your door.”

He didn’t distrust Lu Que; he distrusted himself. After all, something as surreal as an “awakening” had happened to him. What if, when he lost control, he unlocked some superpower skill that even his uncle couldn’t beat? It was better to be safe.

Lu Que neither agreed nor disagreed with the suggestion. He watched as Pei Yun returned to his room and closed the door. He glanced at the lights—every single one from the entryway to the dining room to the living room was on. He rubbed his thumb against the cold rim of his glass, looking thoughtful.

The covers were freezing cold. Pei Yun kicked off his shoes and crawled in, wrapping the quilt tightly around himself. Knowing he wasn’t alone in the house made him feel much more secure.

He dragged the large shark plushie Lu Que had bought him into the quilt and hugged it with both arms and legs. He decided he wouldn’t turn off the lights tonight; a bit of brightness would help him sleep.

Just as he closed his eyes and tried to listen for what his uncle was doing, there was a knock on the door. He quickly responded, sat up holding the shark, and asked Lu Que—who was standing in the doorway—with messy hair: “Uncle, is something wrong?”

Lu Que’s gaze rested on the shark for a moment before returning to Pei Yun’s face.

“Do you want to come sleep with me?”