596: Chapter 596 A Turbulent Town, A Premonition of Danger

"Just like sunlight piercing through the dark night, dawn quietly sweeping across the horizon..."

The passionate anime theme song echoed endlessly in his ears.

Soon after, the sounds of a little boy cheering and running footsteps came from the stairwell again.

It shook the floorboards of this old self-built house with a "thump thump" sound, and even the bed frame trembled slightly along with it.

Fang Cheng turned over and adjusted his sleeping posture.

A few seconds later, he suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on the mottled and yellowed ceiling for a moment.

"Where... is this?"

He squinted, propped himself up on the hard wooden board bed with both hands, and slowly sat up.

The quilt on his body was a bit damp, feeling heavy pressing against his chest.

His head felt like it was stuffed with water-soaked cotton, and his thoughts moved sluggishly and heavily.

Fang Cheng lowered his head, his gaze falling upon his own hands.

This was a pair of hands belonging to a teenager.

The fingers were slender, and the wrists were so thin that they felt as though they would snap with a hard bend.

The skin on his palms was even fair and delicate, without the slightest bit of calluses.

Fang Cheng tried to clench his fists.

The feedback from his muscles was extremely weak, unable to squeeze out even the slightest shred of explosive force from his whole body, feeling as weak as if he had just recovered from a major illness.

A strong sense of physiological dislocation surged into his heart, always feeling like something was not quite right.

He clearly remembered that his name was Fang Cheng, he was fifteen years old, and he was a junior high school student in the third grade at Pingjiang County Third Middle School.

Yet this emaciated shell made him feel immensely unfamiliar, as if he were wearing a piece of clothing that was two sizes too small.

"Fang Cheng, what time is it already? Still lingering in bed? Hurry up and get up to eat breakfast!"

Downstairs came another highly piercing soprano voice, interrupting his thoughts.

Hearing this voice, memories of his mother instinctively surfaced in Fang Cheng's mind.

She was an ordinary middle-aged woman with a very loud voice and a hot temper, toiling all day for daily necessities.

"Got it!"

He replied, rubbed the space between his eyebrows, lifted the quilt, and stepped his feet into the plastic slippers by the bed.

Then he walked to the door, grasped the spherical door handle with verdigris, and gave it a hard twist.

"Creeak——"

The door was pushed open.

The "sizzle" sound of hot oil bursting in the iron wok, mixed with the burnt-fragrant smell of fried eggs, wafted up.

Fang Cheng walked down along the narrow wooden stairs.

In the not-so-spacious living room on the first floor, the unique mortal atmosphere of early morning permeated the air.

Several pieces of clothes that hadn't had time to be folded were piled on the old fabric sofa.

The cathode-ray tube television opposite was playing "Ultraman Tiga".

"Take this! Dynamic beam!"

A seven or eight-year-old little boy with a bowl cut suddenly darted out from behind the sofa.

Holding a paint-peeled plastic toy gun in his hand, he crashed straight into Fang Cheng's calf like a cannonball.

The force wasn't actually that big, but Fang Cheng's body was so skinny that he was actually knocked half a step back.

His shoulder bumped against the wooden door frame, making a dull thud.

"Xiaorui, stop messing around."

Fang Cheng lowered his head to look at his younger brother with a face full of snot, reached out to press his head, and pushed him aside.

"What are you doing? Running around like crazy at home early in the morning!"

A middle-aged woman wearing a floral apron walked out of the kitchen holding a plate.

There were fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and her hair was casually pinned up at the back of her head with a hairpin as she walked quickly to the dining table.

With a "clap" sound, she heavily set down a plate of golden-yellow fried eggs.

She turned her head to glare at the little boy, then her gaze fell on Fang Cheng's side, her eyebrows knitting tightly:

"What are you still standing there dazing for? Go wash your face and brush your teeth, dawdling every single day."

"Look at this build of yours, thin as a bamboo pole, falling over at a blow of the wind, nothing like your dad at all."

Although she kept nagging her son, she still picked up her chopsticks and directly clipped the two most intact fried eggs into Fang Cheng's exclusive porcelain bowl printed with a rooster pattern.

Fang Cheng walked to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and quickly washed his face with cold water.

Water droplets dripped down his chin, and the icy-cold touch woke his brain up a bit more.

After drying his face with a towel, he walked quickly to the dining table, pulled out a wooden chair, and sat down.

Across the table, a middle-aged man wearing a yellowed tank top was holding a bowl and drinking congee.

The man had rough skin, a stubbly beard, and was pinching half a deep-fried dough stick in his hand.

He raised his eyes to scan Fang Cheng, took a big bite of the dough stick, and said while chewing:

"You're already in the third year of junior high, put more effort into your studies. Last week's quiz had your math just barely passing the passing line."

"Go to school today and listen attentively, don't look all sickly and lacking spirit all day long."

Fang Cheng picked up his chopsticks and poked the white rice congee in the bowl. Heat steamed upward, brushing against his face and making it somewhat warm.

"Got it, Dad."

He responded softly.

"Cough cough... cough cough cough..."

Outside the courtyard, a fit of intermittent dry coughing came.

Through the half-open glass sliding door, an elderly person with graying hair could be seen lying on a rattan chair, holding an enamel tea mug in hand, with a hunched back spitting phlegm into a spittoon.

"Dad, it's windy outside, throw on a jacket!"

Mother shouted across the living room, and then turned her head to urge Fang Cheng:

"Eat quickly, the eggs will have a fishy smell once they get cold."

Fang Cheng picked up a piece of fried egg and sent it into his mouth.

The edges were crispy, the inside was soft and tender, and there was the salty fragrance of soy sauce and chopped scallions.

He swallowed the food and took another large gulp of warm rice congee.

A warm current slid down his esophagus into his stomach, instantly dispelling the chill of the early morning.

The aroma of food, the nagging of family, the slurping sound of his father drinking congee, and the explosion sound of a monster collapsing in the television.

Everything was so vivid, so real.

Real enough to forcibly suppress that sense of discordance in his mind, and his body instinctively blended into this trivial daily life.

A few minutes later.

Fang Cheng put down his empty bowl, pulled a tissue to wipe his mouth.

He stood up, walked to the foyer, pulled down the canvas schoolbag hanging on the wall hook, and slung it over one shoulder.

Then he squatted down and changed into that pair of sneakers whose soles were somewhat worn down on one side.

"I'm full, I'm off to school."

Fang Cheng shouted toward the inside.

Mother stuck half her body out from the kitchen, still holding a half-washed rag in her hand, and instructed loudly:

"The weather forecast says it will rain tonight, take that black umbrella by the door, don't catch a cold from getting soaked when the time comes."

"Brought it."

Fang Cheng casually picked up the long-handled black umbrella leaning against the shoe cabinet and patted the pocket on the side of his schoolbag.

Then he walked through the courtyard decorated with a few pots of Chinese roses, pulled open the iron-grate door, and stepped into the slightly desolate street.

The iron gate closed with a "clang", shutting the coughing sounds inside the house and the noise of the television behind him.

The small county town in the early morning was permeated with a thin layer of light mist.

White steam rose from the steamer baskets of the steamed bun shop by the roadside, and the bicycle bells of people rushing to work rang into a chorus.

The surrounding scenery was as familiar as days past, yet it also exuded a somewhat unfamiliar feeling.

Fang Cheng's mood was somewhat unsettled, walking slowly forward along the path of the riverside park.

Swoosh——

A cold wind mixed with water vapor blew past, whipping up a few withered and yellow fallen leaves that struck his calves.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks, his gaze piercing through the sparse willow tree branches and looking toward the riverbank.

Right there in the backlight shadow of the bridge arch, a darkly distorted shadow seemed to be standing.

That thing's body proportions were extremely bizarre, its torso twisted together like a braided cruller, and its hands were so slender they were almost dragging on the ground.

Fang Cheng's eyelids suddenly jumped, and he immediately raised his hand to rub his eyes.

When he looked closely again, the riverbank was empty.

Only a withered black piece of wood was soaked in the turbid river water, bobbing up and down with the waves.

Did his eyes play tricks on him?

Fang Cheng lowered his hand, his brows knitting tightly unconsciously.

That chill, as if being stared at by some cold-blooded animal, still lingered on the skin of his back.

"Hey! What are you spacing out for early in the morning?"

His shoulder was suddenly slapped heavily from behind by someone.

Fang Cheng turned her head to look over.

He saw a teenager wearing thick-rimmed black glasses and a bowl cut grinning broadly at him.

This was his only friend in class, Zhou Ming.

"Hurry up and go, the first class is that menopause Old Wang's math class. If we're late later, we'll definitely be called out to the corridor to stand as punishment!"

Zhou Ming gave Fang Cheng a push and complained with a bitter face endlessly:

"Also, this afternoon's PE class has a one-kilometer long-distance run test, it's practically going to be the death of me."

"With the two of us's puny physiques, if we run at the bottom, how embarrassing would it be to be laughed at by the girls."

Fang Cheng casually chimed in with a couple of sentences.

Zhou Ming was a chatty chatterbox who couldn't stay still. After complaining about class matters, his eyes lit up as he leaned in a bit closer:

"Right, our 'Supernatural Phenomena Research Club' is still missing one person to make up the number. If no one comes again, it's going to be disbanded by the student union. Are you coming or not?"

"I'm telling you, the day before yesterday someone in the neighboring county took photos of a real UFO, and also, our research club heard a woman's crying during the last exploration activity to the abandoned hospital..."

Seeing that Fang Cheng's expression had no ripples at all, he immediately threw out a greater temptation:

"As long as you join, I'll immediately yield the position of vice president to you!"

"Not interested."

Fang Cheng resolutely refused.

"Don't be like that, consider it helping a brother out. You don't have to do any work normally, just having your name on it is fine..."

While the two of them were pulling and tugging, they walked into the school gate.

Ring-a-ling——

A harsh preparatory bell for class suddenly sounded over the campus.

Zhou Ming's face turned pale, let out a weird yell, and pulled Fang Cheng as he sprinted wildly toward the teaching building.

By the time the two of them rushed into the classroom in one breath and sat down in their seats.

Fang Cheng only felt his chest hurting fiercely like a pulling bellows, and his legs were trembling straight.

He couldn't help but sigh inwardly that this body's physical fitness was truly appallingly poor.

The first class was boring math.

The chalk rubbed out a monotonous tap-tap sound on the blackboard, and the math teacher's hypnotic voice echoed on the podium.

Fang Cheng propped his chin with one hand, his gaze crossing over the windowsill, casting toward the gray-gloomy sky outside.

That distorted black shadow seen by the river in the morning lingered in his mind like it had taken root.

He was naturally sharp in intuition, and always felt that in this seemingly calm and peaceful small county town, some indescribable danger was lurking.

Not only that, ever since waking up this morning, that strong sense of discordance had been lingering in his heart.

It was as if he was in layers of thick fog, with some important memories being obscured.

"Fang Cheng!"

The voice on the podium suddenly rose sharply, interrupting his thoughts.

"Stand up and tell me how the auxiliary line for this solid geometry problem on the blackboard should be drawn!"

Fang Cheng snapped back to his senses, pulled open his chair, and stood up.

Facing the dense geometric figures and function symbols on the blackboard, his brain instantly entered a blank state.

A suppressed burst of uproarious laughter sounded all around.

Several mischievous boys sitting in the back row even whistled gloatingly.

"Don't zone out in class, since you don't know how then..."

The teacher on the podium shook her head, a trace of disappointment flashing in her eyes, and waved her hand, preparing to let him sit down.

Right at this moment, Fang Cheng's eyes narrowed slightly.

Deep within his mind, an extremely faint flash of lightning seemed to suddenly streak past, briefly tearing open that layer of fog.

The geometric figures that were originally as complex as heavenly books were instantly disassembled into the most basic lines and surfaces in his eyes.

The massive calculation logic jumped straight into his mind like an instinct.

He didn't ponder for long, and then calmly spoke:

"Taking point D as the origin, establish a spatial rectangular coordinate system, connect point P and point A..."

The teenager's answering voice was not loud, yet clear-mouthed and well-organized.

Every single step precisely hit the core of the problem.

The originally noisy classroom instantly quieted down.

The uproarious laughter abruptly ceased.

The students who were just waiting to watch a joke turned their heads one after another, looking at Fang Cheng standing in his seat as if looking at a monster.

The math teacher on the podium was slightly open-mouthed, her hand holding half a piece of chalk frozen in midair, her face full of astonishment and disbelief.

This was the very last big question from the mock test paper just issued by the city yesterday.

Her original intention was just to make a fuss over the topic to knock some sense into Fang Cheng who was zoning out in class, and she didn't expect any student to be able to answer it at all.

"Teacher, do I still need to continue finding the cosine value of the dihedral angle?"

Fang Cheng's tone remained calm.

"No... no need, completely correct, the train of thought is very clear."

The math teacher stammered for a moment, and quickly gave a dry cough to cover up her loss of composure.

The look she gave Fang Cheng had a trace of oddness, and also a few points of undisguisable appreciation:

"Sit down. Pay attention to lectures in class from now on. With your learning talent, as long as you are willing to put in the effort, you will definitely be able to test into a key middle school in the city."

Fang Cheng nodded calmly and collectedly, pulled open his chair and sat back down.

Zhou Ming beside him was already completely dumbfounded, his mouth wide open, staring at him like he was looking at an alien.

The subsequent classes and the afternoon PE test didn't have any more twists and turns.

The mundane campus daily life passed away unknowingly.

Nightfall quickly shrouded this small county town.

The sky was gloomy and overcast, and a pattering autumn rain began to fall.

After bidding farewell to Zhou Ming, Fang Cheng propped open a long-handled black umbrella and walked home stepping on the wet streets.

Pushing open the iron gate of the courtyard and walking into the house, a steaming hot dinner was already set on the table waiting for him.

After finishing dinner, Fang Cheng was urged by his parents to go up to the second-floor bedroom to do his homework.

In the living room downstairs, the television was playing an evening serial drama, occasionally mixed with the arguments of his parents discussing family expenses.

Fang Cheng sat in front of the desk, biting the end of his pen, and looked at the textbook for a while.

His attention could no longer be concentrated no matter what.

The distorted black shadow glimpsed under the bridge arch by the river in the morning, and the scene of himself solving difficult problems like being aided by a deity during the math class, constantly flashed alternately before his eyes.

The rain outside the window became heavier and heavier, and raindrops slammed against the glass, making a dense "pat-pat" sound.

A gust of cold wind poured in through the gaps in the window, blowing the test papers on the desk to rustle loudly.

Fang Cheng stood up and walked to the window to prepare to close it.

Just as his palm pushed onto the aluminum alloy window frame, a few drops of rain blown off-course by the wind happened to splatter onto the back of his hand.

Fang Cheng's movement paused slightly.

Taking advantage of the light from the desk lamp, he found that the water droplets on the back of his hand were not transparent, but presented a turbid colloidal texture.

He immediately grasped the handle of the aluminum alloy window, pulled hard, and completely locked the latch.

Then he turned around, casually pulled a tissue from the box on the desk, and wiped it across the back of his hand.

A mass of ink-like black stain instantly seeped across the surface of the tissue.

Following closely, a strong foul, fishy stench resembling a rotting dead fish surged straight into his nasal cavity.

This rain was black!

Fang Cheng's pupils suddenly shrank slightly.