Death Progress Bar

onic incantation: “I will save you, too.
I won’t let you die, so don’t ever think of dying.” Even though he said this, his eyes were filled with boundless icy killing intent, and his hand with the scalpel moved close to ‘him.’

“Good night, Fifth Brother,” ‘he’ replied in a numb voice, slowly closing his eyes.
“See you in hell.”

The room sank into silence again.
After a while, it was broken by the sound of receding footsteps as the devil finally left.

‘He’ loosened his tightly clenched fists, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
‘He’ opened his eyes and looked at the door—he wanted to leave here, get away from this tomb-like place, to live—

Beep—

The vital signs monitor let out the long continuous beep, a shrill lament for life slipping away.
A piercing, overwhelming pain, that was perhaps the pain of a soul peeling off from the flesh, spread through ‘his’ whole body.

“Ah!”

Shi Jin’s eyes snapped open.
He stared at Li Jiuzheng, who was sitting next to his bed peeling an apple, for a few seconds.
His body reacting before his brain, he sprang forward and snatched the knife from Li Jiuzheng’s hand.
Holding it in a reverse grip, he aimed at Li Jiuzheng’s neck beneath and stabbed downward—

“Xiao Jin!”

Suddenly, he heard Xiang Aoting’s shout coming from behind, then a strong hand caught his wrist in a vise-like grip.

The tip of the knife hovered just above Li Jiuzheng’s neck.
Shi Jin froze, staring at Li Jiuzheng with wide eyes and breathing hard, madness born out of desperation distorting his face.

Li Jiuzheng was pressed under Shi Jin’s body, staring blankly at him.
Suddenly, his lips tightened and he reached out to hold Shi Jin’s hand clutching the knife, pulling it down towards his neck.

“What are you doing?!”

Shocked, Xiang Aoting hurriedly yanked Shi Jin’s hand up.
He hugged him up and moved him away from Li Jiuzheng, then pulled the knife out of his hand and threw it aside.
Turning to Li Jiuzheng, he demanded, “Xiao Jin has a fever and is confused.
Are you confused, too? Get a hold of yourself!”

He put Shi Jin on the bed and tucked him in.
He touched Shi Jin’s face and made him look in his eyes.
“Xiao Jin, hey, look at me.
Everything’s fine, calm down, you’re safe now, calm down.”

Reason slowly returned to Shi Jin’s eyes, and he realized that he’d been influenced by the original ‘Shi Jin’s’ memories and emotions again.
As his head throbbed with pain, he raised a hand and pressed it to his forehead.
“I want to see Lian Jun.
Where’s he? I want to see him.”

Xiang Aoting hurriedly took out his phone and called Lian Jun.

Li Jiuzheng watched Shi Jin’s weak, distressed appearance, and clenched his fists.

Lian Jun immediately rushed over and hugged Shi Jin to his chest.

Uncle Long was angry and worried but there was no helping it under the circumstances, so he had to settle for making Lian Jun wear a mask.

Shi Jin started to feel groggy again and soon began nodding off in Lian Jun’s arms.
Lian Jun stroked his hair and soothed him until he completely fell asleep, then laid him back in the bed.

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After calming Shi Jin, Lian Jun left the infirmary and looked at Li Jiuzheng and Xiang Aoting waiting outside.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You got Shi Jin in this state as soon as you arrived.
What did you say to him?”

Xiang Aoting frowned.
“Nothing.
Xiao Jin was asleep and seemed to have a nightmare.
He woke up suddenly and—”

“He was scared of me,” Li Jiuzheng said in a dull voice, interrupting him.
Sounding as if he was talking to himself, he continued, “He’s afraid that I want to kill him, so how could he not be frightened seeing me? After all, at that time when he was injured and couldn’t resist, I forcefully brought him to Rongcheng and almost killed him in the cemetery.”

“Jiuzheng,” Xiang Aoting called him in a deep voice.

Li Jiuzheng looked over at him, his gaze blank and unfocused.
“He remembers the clothes I wore that day, my every action… Fourth Brother, it’s over for me, isn’t it?”

“Enough,” Lian Jun interrupted them, glancing back at the infirmary door.
“I don’t care about your moods or internal dramas—the only thing I care about is that Shi Jin wants to have a reunion dinner with his family.
Don’t make him feel disappointed.
Gua One, take the guests to their rooms.”

Gua One, who’d been silently standing behind the wheelchair, immediately stepped forward and motioned for Xiang Aoting and Li Jiuzheng to go with him.

Xiang Aoting glanced at the door and then at Lian Jun, frowning.
He took hold of Li Jiuzheng, who didn’t want to leave, and followed Gua One.

Shi Jin was dragged into a gray and dark-hued dream, in which he lived in Li Jiuzheng’s private hospital.
Sometimes he was awake and thinking clearly, sometimes he was disoriented and confused.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, all he could smell was medicine and disinfectants, all he could hear was the sound of medical equipment, and when he opened his eyes, all he could see was the white, bleak hospital room.

No one talked to him.
Oh, wrong, there was someone—only one person.

Tap, tap, tap… The faint sound of expensive leather shoes on the corridor floor reached his ears.

He shuddered and opened his eyes, looking at the door in terror.

The sound of footsteps died away, replaced by the sound of the turning door handle, and a figure in a white coat appeared in the door.

“The nurse said that your mental state is very unstable,” the devil said in a monotonous, robot-like voice, approaching the bed.
“This won’t do.
You need to rest properly, only then you’ll be able to recover.
Shi Jin, you can’t die now.”

N-no, it was impossible.
The car accident damaged his internal organs—he was slowly dying because they were failing little by little.
It would take a miracle to save him now.
The only thing he wanted was for everything to finally end—

A cold light flashed as a hand holding a scalpel appeared in front of him.

“Are you in pain?”

He looked at the blade point right in front of his eyes, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

“Do want to be free from pain?”

His lips moved but no sound came from his mouth.

“May I help you get rid of it?” A face both familiar and unfamiliar appeared in his field of vision, with cold eyes, cold voice.
“It hurts very much, doesn’t it? May I help you get rid of the pain?”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see this expression on this face.

“You’re my little brother, I naturally want to help you.”

His cheek was touched by cold fingers that didn’t feel like those of a living person.
Then, they shifted to another place, stopping on the pulse in his neck.

“But if you’re dead, what should I do.”

The fingers that smelled like disinfectant left.
He opened his eyes again and looked at Li Jiuzheng, who had already straightened, unable to conceal the hatred in his eyes.

Li Jiuzheng also looked at him, meeting his gaze.
Abruptly, he smiled, then leaned down, picked up a bottle of medicine, and poured it into the IV bag.

“You are my one and only little brother, a gift from God,” Li Jiuzheng said.
He watched the medicine slowly dripping through the IV catheter, a satisfied look on his face.
“Be good and sleep.
You should rest properly.”

As the cold liquid poured into his body, the drowsiness crept in.
He tried to pry his eyelids open to see Li Jiuzheng’s expression clearly, but the other person’s hand suddenly covered his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that with these eyes,” he heard the devil whisper, with a trace of emotions he couldn’t identify.
“Or I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you to hell with me.
You’re a gift from God, Xiao Jin.
I won’t let you go.”

Darkness struck—

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A faint sound of shuffling mahjong tiles entered his ears, and Shi Jin suddenly struggled awake from the dream.
He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to glance in the direction of the sound.

Lian Jun sat next to the bed watching over him, and there was a tablet in his hand.
Noticing Shi Jin’s movements, he reached out to touch his forehead.
“Your fever seems to be gone, but you’ve been sleeping for a long time.
Uncle Long said that after you’d woken up, you should get up and move about for a while.
Lying in bed for too long is not good for your body.”

Shi Jin closed his eyes and rubbed his head against Lian Jun’s palm.

“Your brothers have all arrived.
They’re in the kitchen, cooking for the reunion dinner.
Do you want to go and see?” Lian Jun asked softly, smoothing the teenager’s brow.

Shi Jin opened his eyes.
He contemplated the scene in his dream, then nodded.

Lian Jun stood up from the wheelchair, helped Shi Jin get up from the bed, and supported him to the bathroom.
After a brief washing up, he continued to lead him outside.

“Your legs…” Shi Jin glanced down worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Lian Jun replied, squeezing his hand.
“Uncle Long has given me new medicine recently and they won’t hurt when I walk.”

Shi Jin nodded and squeezed his hand back.
In his mind, he poked Xiao Si.
“Before I attacked Li Jiuzheng, I’d dreamt of the original ‘Shi Jin’s’ last moments.
It was terrible… Dying isn’t pleasant at all.”

< JinJin… > Xiao Si uttered, voice brimming with concern.

“I’m okay,” Shi Jin soothed.
He was slowly shaking off the gloomy dream.
“Like before, I just need to overcome the past.
This reunion dinner will be a good opportunity… Just keep an eye on me, please.
If necessary, knock me out or immobilize my body so I won’t do something that cannot be undone.” At the end of his life, the original ‘Shi Jin’s’ mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of revenge and making his brothers die with him.
If Shi Jin got controlled by those emotions, it would probably be a game over.

< Okay, > Xiao Si said in a subdued voice.
It was silent for a while, then asked abruptly, < JinJin, did I do something wrong? >

This question was quite vague but Shi Jin understood what the system meant.
Glancing at the person walking beside him, he replied, “No… Thank you for giving me a chance to meet Lian Jun.”

By the time he arrived at the kitchen, Shi Jin’s body felt much stronger.
Without alerting his brothers to his presence, he stood by the door and watched them bustle around, slowly adjusting his thoughts and emotions.

“Does Xiao Jin like ginger?” Shi Weichong asked suddenly.
It drew Shi Jin’s attention to him, and he looked carefully at his eldest brother.

Since the last time they saw each other, Shi Weichong became thinner.
His forehead, which used to always be wrinkled in a frown, smoothed out, and the atmosphere around him was less severe.
When he turned his head to talk to Fei Yujing, his eyes were warm.
He seemed much gentler and more approachable than in the past.

“I don’t know,” Fei Yujing replied.
His tone and manner were still those of a cool lawyer, which unintentionally made the scene look a bit comical as he was holding a bunch of vegetables at the moment.

Shi Jin’s gaze shifted to him, and the corners of his mouth twitched—Fei Yujing looked as cold and aloof as usual.
Oddly, there were not many emotional fluctuations in Shi Jin’s heart.
Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising, though; he felt there was no point wasting emotions on this kind of impartial, indifferent person who only acted according to gains and losses.

“Fifth, you’re lying to me again, aren’t you? Does Xiao Jin really like onions?” Rong Zhouzhong’s voice suddenly sounded.

Shi Jin turned his head, only to see Rong Zhouzhong standing at a small table and cutting onions with a contorted expression, his peach blossom eyes red and tears streaming down his face.

Shi Jin couldn’t help but chuckle.

What a dunce.
Didn’t he know he should cut onions in water or cover his nose? This way of crying is so ugly.

“Third Brother, stop for a moment and wipe your face first,” Xiang Aoting said with a frown, handing Rong Zhouzhong a tissue.

Rong Zhouzhong took it and wiped his tears, but he accidentally touched his eyes with the onion-stained fingers.
Immediately, he let out a howl of pain and started groping around for the kitchen sink to wash his eyes while loudly cursing Li Jiuzheng.
Seeing him fumble about like a blind man, Xiang Aoting hurriedly stepped forward to help him, asking him to stop making a ruckus in a helpless voice.

Shi Jin watched them, smile deepening.
His eyes flicked around the kitchen until his gaze happened to meet Li Jiuzheng’s.

Li Jiuzheng had been killing fish.
He was holding a knife, and his hands were covered in blood.

In an instant, Shi Jin’s smile froze.

Clatter.

Li Jiuzheng dropped the knife and began to frantically wipe his bloody hands on his clothes.
He kept glancing up at Shi Jin anxiously, looking as if he wanted to speak but was unable to express himself.
Soon, he saw that the front of the orange sweater he wore became completely dirty with blood and stiffened, his movements slowing to a halt.

What the hell.
Each one is a bigger idiot than the last.

Shi Jin took a deep breath and got his emotions under control.
He knocked loudly on the door frame, attracting everyone’s attention, and said with a smile, “Good afternoon, brothers.”

Whoever wanted to go to hell could go by himself—he was staying right damn here.