After Being Parasiticized By A Monster - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: She Really Wanted to Hold a Knife to Its Neck.

Cheng Ming slept very poorly that night.

A continuous stream of nightmares.

At the end of the dream, a blurry figure repeatedly waved and called out to her. She ran desperately to catch up, but was repeatedly slammed onto the shore by the waves. She struggled to reach out and touch the figure, but the sun in the sky melted into a red seashell, which opened its enormous mouth and swallowed her whole.

Waking up, her entire body was sore and weak, and her mind was scattered and difficult to gather.

She flipped onto her back and stared at the ceiling for a long time.

It was as if she wanted to lie there until the end of time.

Until she could no longer ignore Little Ming’s urging to eat breakfast.

It was a day off; she wasn’t working. After getting dressed, washing her face, and brushing her teeth, she stood in front of the kitchen glass door, toothbrush dangling from her mouth, a rare moment of leisure to consider what to eat.

The most convenient choice was usually bread. If time wasn’t pressing, the best option was to go to the nearby canteen, which offered three nutritionally balanced meals.

However, cooking something for herself once in a while wouldn’t be bad.

Thus, Cheng Ming ultimately made the most complicated choice.

She was thinking of the tomato and egg noodles that Cheng Ran used to make, which were simple to prepare. But after opening the refrigerator, she and the parasitic monster inside both fell silent.

“How exactly do you live your life?”

Great. This time, she could hear its fresh and intense emotion—disbelief and utter bewilderment.

Clack.

Cheng Ming nonchalantly closed the refrigerator door. “The noodles at the first floor of East Canteen taste quite good. They offer both fried and scrambled eggs…”

Little Ming: “You need to throw out that pile of rotten tomatoes and smelly eggs first!”

Clearly, ever since the apparent intracranial fungal infection that was actually fish-fungus parasitism, she hadn’t cooked a meal.

Forty minutes later, Cheng Ming sat at the table eating a bowl of plain, clear noodle soup with no eggs or vegetables. As she ate, she opened her notebook to organize her thoughts.

The institute required her own investigation, and the Security Department could only be accessed through Qu Ying… The monster organization? She unconsciously traced the shape of the seashell again, placing a large question mark next to it.

After finishing her meal and cleaning up, before heading out, she checked the utilities. As soon as she stepped into the bathroom, she saw a tub full of clean water.

She immediately accused, “Did you secretly turn on the water valve again and not turn it off?”

The marine organism loved water. When the weather was dry, it would occasionally draw a basin of water while she slept and drag it to the bedside, soaking its fungal threads in it. Sometimes Cheng Ming’s scalp would be damp when she woke up. But there was no reasoning with a monster; after several fruitless arguments, she had given up.

Little Ming: “I turned it off.”

Cheng Ming opened the drain and watched the water level gradually drop, warning, “Don’t waste water like this again.”

Little Ming: “I turned it off!”

Neural communication had this one drawback: it was still arguing in her head on the way. Cheng Ming told it to be quiet and took the public transport with the relevant documents.

She first went to the institute to get approval from Jiang Dexin to leave the area.

“Professor Jiang, I’m on rotation leave tomorrow and want to go home for a visit.”

The institute operated on a system of both single days off and rotation leave. As a cutting-edge, high-risk industry, the benefits were good, with everyone getting at least seven days of leave per month.

But traveling beyond the quarantine line required the approval of the head of each research group. A nod meant taking responsibility, and following the principle of avoiding unnecessary trouble, permission was usually granted very strictly. When Cheng Ming first interned with the animal research team, the regulations often gave her flashbacks to the inhumane curfews of her college days.

However, Professor Jiang was usually easy to talk to. While signing the approval form, she asked caringly, “Is something wrong?”

The office air conditioner was on. She had draped her jacket over the back of her chair, wearing a thin white sweater with the sleeves rolled up, exposing a section of her wrist. Her pen moved swiftly and sharply.

Cheng Ming smiled. “No, I just wanted to go back and take a look.”

She noticed that besides the defense center’s standardized wristband, the professor also wore a silver bracelet. It subtly flashed in the diffuse sunlight, the style apparently modeled after the Möbius strip, with two silver rings interwoven.

Jiang Dexin noticed her gaze, as if she could read minds. She raised her hand and smiled. “It’s a double helix DNA, the most beautiful biological macromolecule in the world… It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Cheng Ming nodded in agreement. “It is beautiful.”

“Your mother gave it to me,” Jiang Dexin said, looking at the bracelet with a slight sigh of reminiscence.

The documents were signed. She capped her pen and stood up, pulling a key out of her jacket pocket. “You can take my car back.”

It turned out that the East Building’s animal research team had recently sorted out a batch of the Cheng Professors’ old belongings. Since Cheng Ming was studying in the neighboring province at the time, they were temporarily moved to Jiang Dexin’s care.

Since she was making the trip anyway, it was convenient to take them along.

It was exactly what Cheng Ming intended—to go back and meticulously inspect the items left behind by her parents. This was a pleasant surprise.

After having a few maintenance workers load the items into the car, seeing the full trunk, Jiang Dexin belatedly worried about a young girl having to unload everything later. “Hmm, maybe I should call someone to go with you…”

As soon as she spoke, Cheng Ming quickly waved her off. “It’s fine, I can ask the neighbors for help.”

She wasn’t exactly alone.

A parasitic monster, an instant laborer.

“Can you drive?” Sitting in the driver’s seat, Little Ming quietly piped up with a very practical question.

Cheng Ming fastened her seatbelt, looking at the steering wheel. A woman with a lifelong drive to be strong, she didn’t want to admit she was slightly intimidated. “I’ve been learning for three or four years…”

Her ID age was much older than her physical age, so even though she had essentially skipped grades and hadn’t been an adult in college, it didn’t affect her getting a driver’s license.

She just hadn’t had many opportunities to drive while working at the institute. Fortunately, her muscle memory was still intact. She started smoothly, drove out of the underground garage without incident, and the rest of the journey was clear.

More than a month after the last mutated organism riot, the repair status of the defense wall was unknown, but the checkpoints on the quarantine line were clearly stricter.

As soon as the car tires rolled over the ground sensor coil, the check station’s security system light came on.

Hearing the beep-beep of the alarm, Cheng Ming’s heart sank.

Radiation monitoring devices were embedded underground. If she carried any prohibited experimental items, or if a marine organism was mixed in, there would be some numerical anomaly.

Her first reaction was to ask the parasite in her mind, “Didn’t I tell you to hide well?”

Knowing there would be a search, she didn’t dare let its fungal threads show, wearing a wig, a hat, and a scarf around her neck.

“…” Little Ming remained silent, as if that proved it was hidden as best as possible.

Personnel in full protective gear stood outside the car, gesturing for her to roll down the window. The detection wand was inserted, but it didn’t beep. They looked at the back seat and asked, “Hello, what’s in the trunk?”

Cheng Ming realized the problem and got out to open the trunk.

As the handheld scanner swept over it, the beeping sound persisted.

Cheng Ming pulled out the item manifest. “These are the belongings of the two appointed professors, Cheng Ran and Cheng Jin, who served as Level 1 Researchers in the Animal Research Team five years ago. I am their daughter.”

The box had a sealed strip with an official stamp, confirming it had been inspected by institute personnel.

Fortunately, the paperwork was complete enough. After verifying the authenticity of the documents with a document scanner, the check station staff switched to a precision instrument for a second measurement, confirming only trace radiation within a controllable range.

“Some of the experimental equipment is under Class C contamination. Please be aware of this, do not store it at home, and avoid prolonged contact. Thank you for your cooperation, and enjoy your holiday.”

After the standard official reminder, the gate lifted, allowing her to pass.

The delay was minor.

After a forty-minute drive, Cheng Ming returned to her long-abandoned home. This place held her childhood, her youth, and all her last moments with her parents.

It was only a forty-minute drive, yet it felt like she had spent half her life gathering the courage to come back.

After parking and turning off the ignition, she slumped over the steering wheel, feeling that the journey had been long and wearying, her soul exhausted.

“Cheng Ming?” Little Ming called her. “Are you alright?”

She finally moved, raising her upper body. “I’m fine.”

This was a talent community built by the government specifically for coastal researchers, featuring some independent duplex homes with strong privacy. The second floor was often equipped with basic laboratory facilities.

Getting out of the car, she walked toward her front door.

Gazing up at the familiar yet strange doorway, she was momentarily lost in a long, long dream. Walking inside, it would be a warm afternoon. Her mother would be sitting in the courtyard, putting away her drawing board, smiling and saying, “Sweetheart, are you home from school? Mom is off today. What do you want for dinner?”

Anything was possible?

Yes, with Mom there, anything was possible.

She entered the code, and the large door opened.

The dream ended.

The gray-white walls, the cold light. The plants and flowers had all withered, covered in dust sheets, and dust lay everywhere—a stark visual of a deserted home.

But the house was still maintained. After all, they were only missing, not confirmed dead, and were distinguished individuals who had made significant contributions. Such a cold move wouldn’t be made.

In the first year, she had returned frequently, hoping that the moment she opened the door, her mother would open her arms and hug her, telling her she had been waiting for her for a long time.

Later, she realized that enduring the repeated dashed hopes was too cruel, so she finally let go of the unrealistic fantasies and settled permanently in the institute’s apartment.

With the utilities reconnected, Cheng Ming first looked into her bedroom—nothing had changed. Then she went to the master bedroom and the connected study.

She hauled out two large, heavy boxes of notes from under the bed and dragged them into the study, where shelves were piled high with old books and papers.

This was undoubtedly a massive undertaking.

“Come help,” she commanded Little Ming, sitting down in front of a stack of manuscripts.

“My senses are limited by you, and my fungal threads don’t have eyes,” it grumbled reluctantly.

But lack of vision didn’t prevent it from being a workhorse. It began to coil around the neatly arranged books. Thousands of fungal threads worked together like a black whirlwind, flipping and shaking the pages. If a record sheet was mixed in, it pulled it out for Cheng Ming’s inspection.

“Your mother could draw?”

It pulled out a large stack of drawing paper. Cotton pulp paper, sketch paper, and different types of rice paper were categorized and tied with ribbons.

Cheng Ming looked over. The fungal threads pulled off a ribbon and accurately drew out one sheet.

“Why is this one so…”

“Ugly, right?” She took it, completely unperturbed. “Because I drew it.”

Little Ming: “…”

Children always had various wild ideas. Her mother would give her paper and let her be creative, so Cheng Ran’s numerous detailed and exquisite drawing books were interspersed with her peculiar “masterpieces.”

Distorted buildings, deformed figures, cats and dogs with wings, parrots that could swim, and a girl with a fish tail…

Cheng Ming grasped the mermaid drawing, her hand suddenly freezing.

Her breathing stopped too.

In the bottom right corner of the picture, she saw the very thing she had been searching for, but never truly wanted to find.

The red seashell pattern.

The brushstrokes were very smooth and uniform, indicating solid skill. It definitely wasn’t left by her.

It could only have been added by Cheng Ran.

She stroked the wrinkled paper, examining it carefully, inhaling and exhaling slowly, reminding herself to stay calm.

She thought she would have to focus on the lab notebooks, but instead, it had appeared in her own drawing.

Why did Cheng Ran leave this mark on her doodle? And why this specific drawing?

She stared intently at every line and color variation on the paper, but she couldn’t see any difference from the other drawings. She also couldn’t recall the specific context in which she had drawn it. She now understood the feeling of an adult being unable to comprehend their childhood self.

Kneeling on the floor, she picked up other drawing papers and quickly searched through them. Countless manuscripts piled around her, the bizarre colors interweaving and changing in the flying dust, surrounding her like a mad art student.

Finally, after going through all the colored-pencil drawings she could find, she saw the mark again on another doodle that looked like aquatic plants.

The two drawings were stacked together, marked by her sweaty hands.

So, what was the common thread?

Fish, plants… the ocean?

The ocean.

The origin of everything, the source of biological mutation.

The monsters she had encountered over time flashed through her mind.

First, the fish-fungus that parasitized her, a newborn monster with too little information.

Next, Wang Qi… or rather, the monster that occupied Wang Qi’s body. Was it related to the red shell? Was it an undercover member of this organization? So, the first thing it said to her was, You are our companion…

Companion?

The fungal monster also seemed to have used a similar word, directed at Little Ming, but Little Ming said it didn’t know, didn’t remember…

Cheng Ming gradually felt cold all over.

“When exactly did you come into my body?”

She suddenly realized she had been misled by a narrative trick.

It had never admitted that it was born during that fungal infection. It also never admitted that its age was only a few months old.

“Little Ming… do you know my mother?”

…

The large house was dead silent.

The rows of books on the shelves were like towering tombstones.

“I don’t know her, but perhaps I’ve seen her. I cannot confirm.”

Cheng Ming heard its reply, and every word pressed her heart deeper into the icy lake.

“When? Where?” Her voice was squeezed out from between her teeth.

“I cannot confirm.”

Cheng Ming was on the verge of a breakdown. “Then what do you know!”

If they weren’t sharing a body, she really wanted to hold a knife to its neck.

“In your terms, I was only an infant then.”

The fungal threads slid around nearby, she couldn’t tell if it was meant to be soothing or provocative. It was just short of pointing a finger at her and accusing her of being too harsh on a baby.

“All I can remember is being trapped in a transparent cover, the temperature was very high, I couldn’t breathe, and several people were watching me…” Little Ming continued. “After that, the next time I gained senses and had true self-awareness, it was now.”

Cheng Ming’s breathing was labored. It was as if the key to an earth-shattering mystery was right in front of her, but she could see it but not touch it, an uncontrollable frustration dragging her down.

Her mind was a messy battlefield, like it had been bombed. She took a deep breath and looked down at the significant amount of materials still left to check. She decided to ignore it for now.

Relying on this damn thing was worse than relying on herself.

“If you don’t believe me, we can try a deeper neural link. Maybe you can see my memories…” Little Ming suggested a new method.

“Shh.” Cheng Ming suddenly called a halt.

It wasn’t that she was annoyed by the parasite’s incessant talking, but that her attention was drawn to something else.

She put down what was in her hands, pressed her knee against the fungal threads that were still flipping through a book, held her breath, and cocked her ear.

She heard an unusual sound.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…

The sound of running water?

Cheng Ming frowned, stood up, and tiptoed out of the study toward the master bathroom.

The closer she got, the clearer the sound became.

Finally, with only a glass door separating them, she grabbed the doorknob. Snap. She pulled the door open suddenly—

The bathroom was empty.

But the faucet at the back was running, the showerhead quietly releasing water, and a small amount of water had already accumulated in the tub below.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

The liquid flowed in solitude. The entire bathroom floor was wet, and droplets splashed near her feet.

The main water valve had been turned on a long time ago. Even if the faucet had been accidentally left open last time, why would water only start flowing now?

“When you passed by here earlier, was there any sound?” she asked in an inexplicably quiet voice.

As if assimilated by the strange atmosphere, Little Ming was also strangely silent for a moment before replying, “No.”

In this house, which had been unoccupied for several years, had someone—or rather, something—been active here during the short hours she had been inside?

Cheng Ming stood at the doorway, her hand still gripping the sliding door frame, her feet seemingly poised on the border between two worlds.

One step further, and she would fall into a bizarre and dark world of mystery.