Ning Qiu Shui's answer was calm, almost detached:
"Rule One: Don't save beasts certain to die. Wastes my energy.
Rule Two: Don't save beasts already dying. Steals my own life.
Rule Three: Don't save beasts carrying contagion. Risks my health."
Liu Chengfeng nearly choked on a disbelieving laugh. "Brother, you're joking! If you followed rules like that as a vet, you'd starve!"
A ghost of a smile touched Ning Qiu Shui's lips. "I am a vet. But I'm more than just a vet. Who told you I make my living tending pets?"
Liu Chengfeng spread his hands. "Alright, fine. Then... what kind of 'beast' do you save?"
Ning Qiu Shui's reply was deceptively simple. "The ones that catch my eye. Even if I know I can't save them... I'll try. Whatever the cost."
Liu Chengfeng stared at him, surprised, then broke into a genuine grin. This guy... he's something else.
The grin faded as an idea struck. Liu Chengfeng grabbed a notebook, scribbled a message, tied it to a heavy book using the thick curtain, and began swinging it like a pendulum, thumping it rhythmically against the window below. Sound might not travel down, but vibration might attract attention...
Snap.
The surprisingly sturdy curtain tore clean through after only a few thumps. Liu Chengfeng hauled the remnant back, testing its strength with puzzled tugs. "No way... this canvas is thick. How did it rip so easily?" He tried again with another section. Same result. Snap.
A cold prickle crawled up his spine. He felt it then—a sinister gaze, heavy and watchful. He dropped the curtain, abandoning the attempt.
"What's wrong?" Ning Qiu Shui asked, watching him retreat.
"Something's... watching," Liu Chengfeng whispered, wiping sweat from his brow. "If I kept trying... I think..." He didn't need to finish.
Ning Qiu Shui understood. The rules here were walls. Trying to breach the barrier between the third floor and the rest of the villa invited something worse than the woman in red. "Then... they truly are on their own now," Liu Chengfeng sighed, sinking down beside the small skeleton. He picked up its diary again, flipping pages. "Brother... what was that thing? The monster?"
Ning Qiu Shui gazed out at the rain-lashed villa complex. "The diary points to the grandmother. The parents knew something. What exactly?" He shrugged. "Lost to the rot. Maybe the man in the suit will have answers... if we get back."
The next three days passed in cramped confinement. Food and water held out. Below, survival did not.
Xue Guize was methodically consumed on the third night. The final survivor, Yan Youping, her psyche fractured by terror, fled the villa into the raging storm.
She was swallowed by the downpour. Unseen. Unheard.
Liu Chengfeng felt a pang. They hadn't been friends, but they hadn't been monsters either. The feeling lingered, then faded like the echoes of her screams. Survival demanded it.
On the stroke of midnight, the fifth day, a sound pierced the downpour and their uneasy sleep: The blare of a bus horn.
They scrambled to the window.
Below, parked in the driveway, its headlights cutting twin beams through the torrential rain, sat the silhouette of the driverless bus. Its familiar, boxy shape was an impossible beacon of escape.
Liu Chengfeng's breath caught. He slammed a hand against the grimy windowpane, his voice raw with disbelief and sudden, fierce joy:
"Brother! The bus! It's here! Echoes of the Fog!"
Liu Chengfeng's elusion shattered as he turned from the bus. The thing in the red dress stood framed in the study doorway, its unnaturally long limbs coiled, ravenous gaze locked on them. It knew. It knew they were leaving.
"We need a way out—now!" Liu Chengfeng hissed, panic rising. "That bus won't wait!"
Ning Qiu Shui scanned the room, eyes darting towards the rusted window bars—could they break them? Rip them free?
Then, a frail voice cut through their desperation. The old woman, lying beside the child's skeleton, stirred. Her voice was a threadbare whisper, yet unnervingly clear. "Young men... push me out."
They looked down. Her eyes held a terrifying clarity, a weary peace born of endless torment. "When it... eats... it can't do anything else. Push me out. While it feeds... run. Never come back."
Liu Chengfeng recoiled. "We can't just—! Brother?!" His protest died as Ning Qiu Shui moved. Together, they lifted the frail body towards the window and the horror beyond.
"Push her, one dies," Ning Qiu Shui stated, his voice devoid of inflection. "Don't push her, three die."
A faint, sad smile touched the old woman's lips. "He's right... Don't blame yourselves. Living... is agony now. Do this... as mercy. Release me."
Liu Chengfeng swallowed bile. No more hesitation. He braced himself. Together, they shoved the old woman through the window, onto the sludge-covered floor before the waiting horror.
The creature in red hesitated for a fraction of a second – the bait was meant to lure, not consume. But two days without fresh meat had honed its hunger to a razor's edge. The temptation was too potent. With a wet, tearing sound, it plunged the fork and knife deep into the old woman's torso. Liu Chengfeng turned away, gagging at the sounds of rending flesh and frantic feeding.
"GO!" Ning Qiu Shui snatched the crimson stone from the windowsill. They vaulted through the opening, sprinting past the crouching, feasting horror. A wave of killing cold, thick with malice, washed over them as the thing's hate-filled eyes snapped up, tracking their flight. Liu Chengfeng's legs threatened to buckle.
But the old woman spoke true. Engrossed in its grisly meal, the creature couldn't pursue.
"FASTER!" Ning Qiu Shui yelled, glancing back. "It eats quick!"
Liu Chengfeng led the charge down the stairs, heart hammering against his ribs, cold sweat soaking his back. He hit the front door shoulder-first, bursting out into the torrential rain. The bus's yellow headlights cut through the downpour like a beacon of salvation. Ning Qiu Shui exploded out behind him.
A shattering roar erupted from the third floor. THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD! Heavy, frantic impacts shook the stairs. The thing was coming. Fast.
"BROTHER! HURRY!" Liu Chengfeng screamed, holding the bus door open, hand outstretched. Ning Qiu Shui poured on the last shreds of speed. As he reached the steps, Liu Chengfeng grabbed his arm and yanked him violently inside.
The creature slammed into the doorway behind them. It crouched, a nightmare of elongated limbs and spider-like contortion, its jaw unhinged in a silent scream of pure, thwarted rage. Mere steps separated it from its prey. It lunged forward—then froze. The bus seemed to radiate an invisible barrier. The thing recoiled, hissing, its fury palpable but impotent. It paced, a trapped predator, unleashing guttural, frustrated snarls towards the vehicle.
But it would not – could not – step closer. With a final, bone-chilling shriek that faded into the drumming rain, the creature in the red dress turned and slithered back into the shadows of the villa, swallowed by the storm.