After Being Parasiticized By A Monster - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Childhood Too Beautiful Is Also a Misfortune.

At half-past one in the morning, the bedroom light went out, and Cheng Ming was asleep.

But Qu Ying hadn’t left.

She sat silently on the rocking chair beside the bed until Cheng Ming—no, Xiao Ming—opened her eyes, turned her face, and greeted her expressionlessly:

“Hello… Oh, wait, should I say long time no see?”

“Cut the familiarity,” Qu Ying leaned forward, sneering in a low voice. “Professor Cheng Ran kindly gave you a chance at life; is this how you treat her daughter?”

“I’m saving her.” Xiao Ming’s eyes didn’t blink as she spoke an absurd, eerie, and unverifiable statement, “I would never hurt her.”

“That sounds truly ironic.” Qu Ying curled her lip in disdain, stood up, and let a strand of lusterless hyphae drop from her fingers. Her narrowed eyes were like they were covered in a layer of ice, unfathomable and dangerous.

“I will cover for you with the higher-ups, but I’ve already logged your information into the system. Don’t try any tricks.”

This was a threat.

It was direct, easy to understand, and quite considerate of a fledgling parasite who was perhaps unfamiliar with the intricacies of human nature.

Xiao Ming turned her head back to face the ceiling and closed her eyes. “She won’t let me use her body. You can go now. Goodbye.”

Qu Ying: “…”

Who said newborn monsters were unfamiliar with human nature?

She was almost amused with exasperation.

…

Her body felt as heavy as lead, yet her consciousness drifted lightly.

Cheng Ming had a dream, both very long and very short.

So long that she walked a very long road, endured many hardships, and the small seashell in her hand was her everything—all her hope, all her strength, and all her past.

So short that she hadn’t had time to clearly see that person’s face or memorize her voice.

“Mommy! It’s a heart!”

She held up the “treasure” she had dug for a long time in the sand, happily saying she wanted to give it to her mother.

At that time, the ocean was still in the first stage of pollution; the danger was far less than now, only radiation causing biological deformities, affecting the fishing industry, and causing economic decline. Some people saw a business opportunity and, under the banner of compensating the new generation of children for their inability to see the sea, created artificial seawater resorts dozens of kilometers near the coast, selling high-priced tickets to tourists.

The two Professors Cheng were engaged in ocean-related research, and Cheng Ming had seen the “real world,” but like all little children, she also yearned to roll in the sand, sculpt, and search for treasures.

“Oh, it really is! Good job, sweetie!” Cheng Ran was amused, holding her high, then resting her on her knee and rubbing her dirty cheek. “What do you want to be when you grow up, sweetie?”

She clutched the seashell, as proud as if she had discovered a priceless treasure, her small feet kicking, gesticulating wildly, “I want to be a great scientist, just like Mommy!”

Later, this gift was delicately packaged, its sharp edges smoothed, a protective coating applied, and strung on a silver chain, before eventually finding its way back to her hands.

A childhood too beautiful seemed also to be a misfortune.

It made her willing, even if it might take her entire life, to try and re-embrace the warmth that had long become an illusion in her memory.

…

“What did you dream about? Crying so sadly.”

Cheng Ming was patted awake.

The faint light penetrated the curtain, gently brushing her face like a feather. It was morning.

She opened her eyes and saw a pair of beautiful female eyes very close, struggling to focus, and finally recognized her. Ah, it wasn’t her mother.

It was Qu Ying.

Most of the time, the other woman carried an aura of being weathered and world-weary, making her appear distant and unemotional. This rare sight of gentle concern was uncommon.

She wiped away the fluid obstructing her vision and laughed softly, “It was a beautiful dream.”

…

After changing clothes and washing up, Cheng Ming came out of the bedroom and saw Qu Ying sorting items on the living room floor, feeling a sudden pang of emotion.

Sure enough, the more one experienced, the more one’s psychological bottom line was continuously broken.

Having learned about the other’s non-human side, no matter how much this “big sister” mysteriously appeared in her home without warning, she accepted it well. As for privacy, she had learned to let it go the moment the parasite latched onto her.

She even suspected that if she went to work later and found Jiang Dexin miraculously transforming into a sea cucumber, seaweed, sea lily, or something else in front of her, she would probably be indifferent… of course, it was best not to.

“This is the nutrient solution, and this is the inhibitor.”

Qu Ying showed her small vials and sealed syringes that were highly concealed, resembling an insulin pen.

“One is for intravenous injection, the other is for intramuscular injection. I’ll demonstrate it once; watch carefully and feel the effect.”

She unwrapped the packaging and shook the solution in the vial. Cheng Ming sat on the sofa, cooperatively extending her arm, watching her operate.

“There are three spares. The shelf lives are three months, half a year, and two years, respectively. You decide when to use them.”

The nutrient solution needed no explanation. It supplemented various nutrients and directly provided small molecules to promote cell division and differentiation, helping her in emergencies. For instance, right now, she had to rush to work and face people, but some superficial wounds hadn’t healed completely.

The effect was quick. Cheng Ming flipped her hand and saw some faint scars disappearing, and the subtle pain in her bones significantly eased.

When it came to the other syringe, Qu Ying gestured for her to lift her shirt, opting for an abdominal injection.

“Inhibitor?” Cheng Ming straightened her back obediently, hesitating for a moment. “Does it inhibit the monster itself or its abilities? It consumed a lot of energy yesterday, so won’t this…”

Qu Ying knelt in front of her, her wrist holding down the rolled-up edge of her shirt, and plunged the needle in. “Who cares if it lives or dies.”

The fluid was injected, held for ten seconds.

Qu Ying looked up and asked her how she felt.

The needle brought a slight prickle of pain, and her hand on her abdomen felt a strange, cold touch. Cheng Ming carefully pondered it, shaking her head blankly.

Then, she saw her “beautiful hair” falling out strand by strand.

Cheng Ming: “…”

“You really need a wig.” Qu Ying was amused, pulling out the needle and glancing at the clock. “On me, it inhibits abilities. The whole vial is 25ml, with an effective duration of about 24 hours, linear to the dosage. It’s 7:35 AM now; make a note of it.”

Unwilling to face the reality of premature baldness, Cheng Ming painfully forced herself to look away, scrutinizing the number on the empty vial—

“Is this stuff all logged?”

Giving it to her like this, won’t it cause trouble?

“I’ve secretly stockpiled dozens over the years.” It’s foolish not to take government property, Qu Ying raised an eyebrow, reassuring her.

“Don’t litter the packaging; keep it safe. I’ll come and pick it up when I have time.”

She stood up, her height towering, and reached out to press down on her head with a hint of personal emotion. “I’ll emphasize this again: contact me if anything happens. Xiao—” She paused, sighing slightly, and called her by her full name, “Cheng Ming. I wouldn’t be where I am today without your mother, so just consider me your older sister from another mother and father.”

Sister, you really are my sister… Cheng Ming blinked, silently taking a breath, a mix of helplessness and gratitude in her smile:

“Got it, Sister Ying Ying.”

Having a safety net versus going it alone indeed made a huge difference. She no longer had to live in constant fear of a surprise raid from the Security Department, and she had gained another means of threatening the parasite.

The inhibitor seemed to have a significant impact on the fish-fungus; it was noticeably inactive for the next few days.

However, given that her “hair” grew back the very next morning, and it would even “kindly” grab her a towel when she called it while washing her hair, she was inclined to believe the other party simply didn’t want to talk to her.

A week later, Wang Qi was officially classified as a missing person.

The subtle disappearance of one person didn’t cause many changes in the Defense Center. The institute remained busy, and Cheng Ming was preparing for her promotion. In all the steps, the official defense was merely a formality, especially since Jiang Dexin was the presiding judge.

The crucial review was behind the scenes: background checks and physical examinations.

The physical examination data was still valid from the previous Investigation Department visit and could be directly entered. As for Cheng Ming’s background, it was undoubtedly quite clean and excellent.

Having grown up under the influence of the two professors, she entered a neighboring province’s higher education institution at 16 to study the Marine Biology major specifically created for pollution-related studies, completed her degree a year early, and entered the institute for an internship.

A year later, she graduated from university, transitioning from an intern to an Intern Researcher.

Now, at 21, she was about to be promoted to Assistant Researcher, a mid-level professional title, equivalent to a university lecturer.

Even though the retirement age for personnel in the Defense Center had been compressed to fifty-five due to changes in the overall marine environment, and there was a global trend of accelerated cultivation of scientific talent, her résumé was still eye-catching enough.

The review panel looked at the documents and nodded frequently.

This also felt like an unofficial defense, as several mysterious “experts” exchanged views and briefly asked Cheng Ming some questions. Two staff members beside them were respectively logging data into the system and archiving paper documents.

Cheng Ming sat across from them, answering cautiously.

She suspected that some higher-ups from the Security Department were among them.

“Hmm?”

The archiving staff member leaned over to look at the computer and suddenly exclaimed in surprise, looking at Cheng Ming—

“Why does your ID card show you were born in 2140, making you 33 this year?”