Chapter Fifty-Five: The World Within the Mirror

Everyone was stunned for a moment before realizing that the laughter must have come from Zhong Kui.

“My goodness, although Zhong Kui belongs to our Daoist tradition, I truly never expected he’d actually manifest in this world,” Old Liao muttered in shock, talking to himself.

Seeing the jar shaking more and more violently, I hurriedly grabbed it and slammed it over the face of the tattoo design. A swirl of purplish-red smoke slowly crawled out from the jar, winding its way along Sun Xing’s back, circling a few times before plunging into the tattoo.

I quickly picked up the tattoo needle and continued etching the fierce deity’s visage. Before long, the thick brows, angry eyes, and ferocious features were nearly complete. As I placed the final dot on Zhong Kui’s eye, the swastika symbol on Sun Xing’s back grew searingly hot.

“Ah!” Sun Xing clenched the bedsheet with his eyes tightly shut, crying out in agony.

“What’s happening?” Xia Liang rushed over, shoving me aside and clutching Sun Xing’s hands tightly as she leaned over the bed. “He’s burning up! What on earth are you doing to him?”

She turned to glare at me, her eyes flashing with anger. I dropped to the floor, initially upset by her outburst, but seeing the tears welling in her eyes, my irritation instantly faded away.

Sun Xing’s body grew hotter and hotter; the swastika on his back turned from a black ink mark to a blazing red brand.

Suddenly, Sun Xing threw back his head and let out a deafening roar, then sat bolt upright, chest out and breathing steadily. The force of his shout stunned us all into silence. Sun Xing’s brow was tightly furrowed, his eyes swept the room with a fierce, crimson glow burning in his pupils.

His gaze roamed until it settled on me.

“Is he... possessed?” I felt a flicker of unease under his stare and hurriedly stepped forward to bow.

But Sun Xing remained silent, his eyes sharp as knives. All at once, he slammed a fist down on the bedside cabinet, smashing the rosewood stand into dust.

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. I’d expected the ghostly tattooing to wield supernatural power, but never imagined it would be this potent. As for whether this Zhong Kui was real or just a lingering wisp of spirit, I could only wait and see.

After pulverizing the cabinet, Sun Xing sat rigidly at the edge of the bed, the tattoo on his back glowing red, especially Zhong Kui’s eyes, which radiated an aura of authority.

Gradually, the tattoo began to shift, forming a spectral figure behind Sun Xing. Whatever the apparition did, Sun Xing mimicked, like a puppet on strings. At this, we understood: regardless of the true nature of Zhong Kui, Sun Xing was no longer in control of himself.

The imposing figure gripped an invisible sword at his waist, raising it toward the four standing mirrors in the room’s corners, and bellowed three times, “Vengeance for the wronged, the cycle of cause and effect, then on to rebirth!”

With each shout, the four mirrors warped forward as if bowing to the specter, and even the sinister wooden carvings outside the window bent their branches toward the glass.

Eerily, an image flickered into view in the eastern mirror first.

In the scene, a young woman with delicate features and fair skin was welcoming patients at a hospital. She looked like an intern just starting out in the medical field. While changing an IV bottle, her phone rang.

“Hello? Xiao Yang, come to the director’s office.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

On her way, she greeted patients and staff kindly before entering the director’s office. She knocked, opened the door, and went inside.

Suddenly, something damp and pungent was pressed over her mouth. Her consciousness faded away into darkness.

When she woke again, she was in a pitch-black basement, location unknown. She could only hear water dripping onto the floor and the sound of ropes rubbing against her wrists and ankles, bound to a chair. She tried to call for help but found her mouth completely gagged, so only muffled whimpers escaped. Footsteps and voices approached nearby.

“She’s awake,” said a middle-aged woman.

“Yes, she’s the first one.”

“Then let’s begin!”

“Don’t rush. If you want to save your son, we need to make the terms clear.”

“Didn’t we agree on ten million?”

“No, I want twenty percent of your group’s shares...”

“But that needs board approval!”

“I trust that won’t be a problem for you, will it, Director Xu?”

A heavy silence fell, making the girl’s heart skip several beats. As the sound of high heels receded, a figure approached and gently lifted her chin. She glimpsed the flash of a knife, and then both her hands went numb.

Something thudded to the floor, and she lost her balance, collapsing. In the darkness, a pair of spotless white rubber-soled shoes appeared in the mirror. A hand wiped blood from the shoe with a silk handkerchief. On the back of the hand was a tattoo of two swallows.

The vision abruptly ended. The atmosphere thickened as if the spirit was revealing her own tragic death. “Sun Xing’s” eyes blazed with fury, as if flames were burning within them.

Before we could speak, the western mirror was filled with another vivid image.

It was like watching a film, yet everything felt so real, as if we were right there.

This time, the protagonist was a beggar.

That day, he poured out his earnings into an iron bowl, stomach growling. All he wanted was to find a supermarket and buy some cheap food. Suddenly, a dozen crisp hundred-yuan bills fluttered down from above. He looked up and saw a pair of elegant white rubber-soled shoes. “A benefactor!” he thought, raising his head in excitement.

“Come with me. I’ll give you twenty thousand yuan.”

“For what?” Though poor, the beggar knew well enough not to trust such fortune from the sky and eyed the man warily.

“I need you to test a drug. The money’s your reward.”

A drug dealer, then. The beggar sighed in relief and gladly followed.

After winding through dark alleys, they entered a duplex house. The man in the rubber-soled shoes picked up a capsule from the table.

“Take it. It’s a new insomnia medication, not yet on the market. We need test data.”

Trusting, the beggar swallowed the pill in one gulp. Soon, the world spun, and drowsiness overwhelmed him. He leaned against the wall. “This works fast...” He collapsed.

He awoke to darkness and dampness.

“You’re the second,” the man’s voice murmured in his ear, ignoring his muffled cries. “Honestly, I dislike this too—it soils my hands. But your fate was just right, and you appeared before me. Let me send you on your way—or rather, to your rebirth.”

A flash of the knife, and his lower body fell to the floor. The sudden pain filled his mind, and the vision froze.

“It seems the four people Sun Xing saw before were all sacrificial victims!” Old Liao exclaimed. “Transforming four corpses into the Four Symbols—how wicked! Sacrificing human lives, it’s pure madness.”

The northern mirror now shone, showing a scene where a classic beauty in a cheongsam brushed her long hair before a mirror.

“Sister Ran, have you finished your master’s thesis?”

“Yes, I’m meeting the professor this afternoon.”

“Oh, that lecherous old man?”

“Don’t talk nonsense; the professor is a good person.”

“Yeah, right. People on the school forum say he’s harassed female students before. You be careful.”

“I know~”
...

The intellectual beauty called “Ran” dressed in her cheongsam, checked herself in the mirror, frowned, then changed into casual sportswear, grabbed her laptop bag, and hurried out the south gate of Guangdong South University.

Knock knock knock—she rapped lightly at a door, which was answered by a shifty, balding man who looked sleazy.

“Ran, you’re here! Come in. There’s still a problem with your topic.”

“Sorry to trouble you, professor.”

In the study, the professor edged closer to her, his hand brushing her arm under the guise of accident. She recoiled as if shocked, awkwardly clasping her hands to her lap.

Knock knock knock—someone was at the door again.

“Water delivery, I’ll get it,” the professor said, leaving the room. Ran seemed to breathe easier, grabbing a glass of water from the table and drinking it in one gulp.

Five minutes later, a wave of heat spread through her body, her mind growing foggier and heavier. She slumped over the table, unable to lift her head.

The door opened, and two men’s voices sounded.

“This is her?”

“Yes, just as you described.”

“I’ll take her then.”

“Wait—before you go, can’t you let me have some fun first?”

A brief silence, then a sigh. “Hurry up.” The door slammed.

What followed was a heartbreaking scene of brutality.

When it was over, the girl, her clothes torn, stared blankly ahead. Slung over a man’s shoulder, she could only see the white rubber soles of his shoes. She, too, was taken to that familiar, pitch-dark basement.

“In your next life, may you find a good home,” the man said coldly, without a trace of feeling. The girl felt a long blade slice across her scalp, her skull split open to reveal bone, and a pair of hands reached for her brain...

The vision froze again, each tableau set in that same cold, damp basement, as if it had claimed all their lives.

Three mirrors now stood still. We all turned to the last, the southern mirror. In an instant, an image appeared: a handsome young man in a suit, bowing before someone who seemed to be his boss.

“You’re fired.”

“Why?” The young man looked up, revealing his handsome face.

“Ah Xing! My brother!” Ah Hao cried out, ignoring the others’ attempts to stop him as he rushed to the southern mirror and knelt before it.

The man in the mirror’s eyes brimmed with tears.