Ren Yuanhao drove towards the location where the signal had disappeared, only to find the surroundings desolate, with nothing but sand and azure sea stretching as far as the eye could see. The sky was gradually darkening, with ominous clouds gathering overhead, like the eye of a storm, suspended directly above.
"Could it be that they vanished from here?"
Ren Yuanhao scanned his surroundings, his ears completely filled by the fierce wind. If not for the Bi Hai Chao Sheng Heart Method, his eardrums would likely have ruptured by now.
"DiDi, do you think you're going to be blown into the sky like a kite?"
"I'm not in the mood for jokes right now, okay?"
Ren Yuanhao raised his hand to shield himself from the gusting wind, feeling as though even breathing was like inhaling through a veil. His lungs had to exert twice the effort as usual just to maintain a semblance of smooth breathing. The low-pressure system swirled in the sky, like the Fantian Yin pressing down from above, making his very soul tremble.
"I'm not joking with you. Broadcasting a weather report: a tropical storm will make landfall in the Yun San Jiao area of Dong Lü City in one hour, with wind speeds of level 10, accompanied by short-term thunderstorms~" The wind howled through the pages of Da Feng Novel.
"Alright, alright, I know. If you're really that worried, why don't you help me find Shen Lanni and the others?"
"Do you really think I'm Doraemon? I'm not that omnipotent. Besides, I'm not that worried about your safety. If you kick the bucket, I can always find another host."
"Then kindly shut up, would you?"
Ren Yuanhao got back into the car, quickly engaged the handbrake, and sealed the doors and windows. With a press of the accelerator, the Alfa Romeo shot away like a fiery red steed.
His eardrums bulged, on the verge of bursting. To maintain a slight balance of internal and external air pressure, he opened his mouth wide, breathing through it. The terrifying sight outside the car window reminded him of the apocalypse in American sci-fi movies.
The sandstorm whirled like smoke, soil and stones flying, striking the car body and glass like fine bullets, emitting chilling 'crackling' sounds.
He had once heard that those who perished in a storm met a gruesome end. Imagine, the uneven pressure ripping and tearing flesh and organs into pieces, then scattering them as bloody rain into unknown places, flowing into filthy grounds alongside crooked gullies.
They wouldn't even leave a chance for the body to be claimed. How tragic.
Ren Yuanhao couldn't help but shiver. At the same time, the sandstorm intensified before his eyes. Even his 1.5-ton vehicle felt like a thin piece of paper under the fierce wind speed and pressure. The steering wheel became increasingly difficult to control, like a derailed train, and he was about to collide with something that suddenly appeared on the beach ahead!
*Thump!*
Ren Yuanhao felt the car lift as if struck by a solid obstacle in front. He was pulled away from the driver's seat by gravity. Amidst the sandstorm, his stomach churned violently. Within seconds, he felt his spine crash against the incredibly sturdy roof frame of the car. His entire body emitted several cracking sounds like a sieve. Sharp pain instantly invaded his skin and bones, his pupils gradually lost their color, and shattered glass cut his arms and face. Blood mixed with sand fell onto the leather seats, and the air was instantly filled with the scent of blood.
And his consciousness began to fade.
...
In a resort estate on the southeast coast, a group of people were hiding in a dimly lit cabin, silently listening to Zhang Liang’s nonsensical rambling.
"Test subject? My daughter, how could she possibly be a test subject? If you say that again, I'll rip your mouth apart..."
Shen Wanjun's face was flushed red, almost choking on his breath. After coughing violently, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength. He leaned against the cool, damp wall, his legs giving way, and he slid down, scraping off a layer of white dust laced with moisture.
The windows rattled, and the wind howled mournfully. If one didn't check the time, it would be impossible to tell whether it was day or night. The palm trees creaked like flags under the wind pressure. Occasionally, something would hit the roof, making a long, dull sliding sound.
"Uncle, don't get angry. I think this question doesn't require me to answer. Shen Lanni, perhaps you can explain?"
Zhang Liang moved to Shen Yunshu's side, who had already slumped into her sister's arms. His eyes, flashing with pale shadows, were filled with lewdness. He embedded his sharp fingernails into her face. With little force, he saw a streak of bright red blood ooze from her delicate cheek, looking incredibly strange.
"Zhang Liang, if you dare to harm my sister again, I'll make you wish you were dead!"
Shen Lanni's eyes fluttered open and closed hazily, like someone just waking up from a nap at their office desk on a lazy afternoon, her languid state lending her a touch of softness.
Her appearance stirred a primal urge in Zhou Long.
"It seems Miss Shen is unwilling to speak. Very well, I shall explain then."
As Zhang Liang spoke, his right hand continuously moved up Shen Yunshu's arm. Upon reaching above her elbow, he roughly pulled up half of her sleeve.
"According to Jiang Cheng, Miss Shen has a brown swallow-shaped birthmark on this position. And as your sister, she also has this birthmark. But look at her arm, it's as smooth as jade, delicate and soft. Where is the trace of a birthmark?"
This was precisely what Shen Lanni couldn't understand.
"So what? No one knows how much suffering this child has endured over the years. Perhaps, out of hatred for me, her useless father, she erased the birthmark as a symbolic gesture. Does this prove anything?"
Mentioning the events of the past, Shen Wanjun's face was filled with self-reproach. He vaguely recalled that day, just like today, with howling winds and dark, gathering clouds.
If only his ship had been steadier that day, if only he had heeded the fisherman's advice, if only he had had more work in his hands, if only...
Alas, there were no 'ifs'. He had done the absolute wrong thing at the absolute wrong time, leading to the tragedy of that day.
For thousands of nights, in countless dreams, the sky was as overcast and dim as today, with raging winds, rustling palm trees, and lightning tearing across the horizon, as if something were about to leap out. The ship, tossed about by surging waves, almost capsized as a silver wave crashed over it. When the hull stabilized slightly, his youngest daughter, Shen Yunshu, had vanished into the vast ocean.
Shen Wanjun cried out hoarsely in his dreams, a thousand times, ten thousand times, but all he received upon waking was sweat-soaked clothes and the sorrow of having lost everything.
Whenever he woke from his dreams at midnight, alcohol became his best anesthetic. Since then, he had become a heavy drinker, especially on quiet summer nights with dark clouds gathering. He would always instinctively drink a few more glasses. Such dreams had tormented him for nearly twenty years.