After Being Watched by My Paranoid and Gloomy Deceased Wife - Chapter 10

Uncomfortable.

My stomach is so full.

I don’t need comfort; I need some real action.

Like He and those bizarre bl00d-water intruders immediately leaving my territory.

Tears blurred my vision. I hugged my stomach, not even daring to let my hands touch the swollen lower abdomen.

Too full.

I feel like I’ve been marinated in the smell of bl00d, inside and out.

How could such an absurd thing happen in reality?

They are sloshing, surging.

It is bl00d, it is water, fitting perfectly into the place where life begins, but refusing to be still.

So swollen, so uncomfortable. The feeling of being overly full gave me a kind of overeating dizziness.

So dizzy.

He no longer tried to stop me, only watching me with those empty eye sockets.

In the midst of the overflowing pleasure mixed with the sensation of bloatedness, I pressed down hard on my stomach, trying to expel the bl00d-water.

Hoo, I let out a heavy breath, holding back tears and swallowing my voice.

I can’t press.

My body warned me, and I also felt more liquid suddenly wrung out, like squeezing a sponge.

Then they merged with the bl00d-water, only adding to this awful feeling of fullness.

What a terrifying dream. I didn’t dare to open my eyes and continue watching.

Previously, I clearly wished so much to faint, but now I don’t.

But I was still trying to escape, thinking everything would end quickly.

Water was rushing in the bathroom. The bl00d-colored water was like boiling lava, and also like a shot from a horror movie.

And I was the prey caught by the nightmare, stuck to the spiderweb, unable to move, only watching Him approach me.

He extends a proboscis, breaks in, and then tears.

Slicing open my skin, sucking my internal organs, like a true monster.

But He didn’t.

He just stayed like this with me, with no space between us, making me feel like a tourist on a small boat, adrift at sea, anxiously bobbing in a storm.

The wind was strong, and the rain was heavy.

Those feelings of fullness gradually changed.

I was ashamed to face my own feelings, only knowing that my crying had long changed its tune.

How could this be?

I should be disgusted, but looking at His bl00d-red face, amidst this flooding, surging pleasure, I surprisingly started to feel sad.

He seems to be crying?

Drops of bl00d dripped from Him, sliding from His empty eye sockets.

Splashing into the bl00d-water accumulated on the ground.

Shouldn’t I be the one crying when something like this happens?

But for some reason, seeing His silent tears, my own face was also soaked with tears.

I don’t even remember when I opened my eyes.

They let go of me, and the bl00d-water slowly flowed out from there.

The bl00d-colored water flow was first in trickles, then in small streams running downward.

My fragile nerves were frayed, making me feel like I was tossed back and forth on the crest of a pleasure wave.

Flashes of light brighter than the bathroom lamp occasionally crossed my mind. I lost my footing and clung to His shoulder.

But He is water, is bl00d. My hand passed through the liquid, leaving only confusion, and I almost fell.

Why can He touch me so easily, yet I cannot use Him as a support point?

Is everything truly a hallucination driven by my own desires?

Why does it feel so real…

I don’t understand.

He caught me the moment I fell.

They hugged me from the front and back. Parts of the bl00d-colored figures were intermingled, an unspeakable strangeness.

Fortunately, I couldn’t see clearly. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be able to control my voice and would have to compete with Xi Rong’s dolphin-like pitch.

In the heavy, bloody embrace, I finally slowed my breathing.

It’s terrifying; I actually feel a sense of security in a scenario like this.

This is even more insane than the fact that everything isn’t a hallucination.

Yes, I must be crazy to have such delusions.

I tried to divert my attention to the psychiatric bill. Usually, this method has a surprisingly good effect.

It’s not working now either.

It’s over. Worldly money and wealth cannot shake me. Could it be that my soul has abandoned these vulgar external possessions?

Too great, too noble. It definitely isn’t me.

The invaders still haven’t completely left, but I thought He would stop.

I didn’t expect to be so naive.

This time, the sense of shame—the kind of shame one feels when preparing to visit a gynecologist—pulled me out of the dizzy, disoriented state of trance.

Logically, a person should be quite resilient, both mentally and physically.

But I am extraordinarily afraid of death.

I’m still planning to go see a doctor.

Everyone has to die someday, either heavy as Mount Tai or light as a goose feather.

But a person like me will most likely die a miserable, weak death.

Even at this point, I’m still thinking: should I book an appointment with a Chief Physician or an Associate Chief Physician?

Associate Chief Physician or just a regular Attending Doctor?

I once saw a Chief Physician. She looked more serious than my high school homeroom teacher. Her brow was furrowed, knotted even, making her seem more worried than I was.

When she was examining me, I was both intimidated by her and felt that her stress seemed no less than mine.

And my insignificant, disjointed worries seemed trivial compared to the “river” wrinkles on her brow.

My high school homeroom teacher was responsible for daily work, merit reviews, and college entrance exam undergraduate admission and top university rates, yet she didn’t seem as stressed as the doctor.

Speaking of my high school homeroom teacher, I remember…

The bl00d-colored water flow retreated and then invaded again, treating the nest as a reef on the seashore pounded by waves.

I arched my back, imagining myself as a small shrimp, currently caught in an electro-fishing net.

He kissed me.

Thinking about my high school homeroom teacher at this moment is too disrespectful, and thinking about a shrimp is also disrespectful to the shrimp.

I couldn’t find a new way to divert my attention for a moment.

Logically, I should be thinking about my first love or someone I like right now.

But I’m thirty-seven, single since birth, and unmarried. Searching through my memories, I couldn’t find a single living person who could make my heart beat irregularly.

His kiss consumes all my breath, like my mouth and nose are submerged underwater.

That’s when I remembered, oh, yes, He is water.

Flowing.

No wonder it feels so suffocating.

I didn’t close my eyes and suddenly noticed a new change in Him.

The empty eye sockets now had eyelids and eyelashes, also bl00d-red.

If we weren’t kissing, and the distance wasn’t so close, perhaps I wouldn’t have been able to see so clearly.

The eyelashes are so long and curled.

A truly enviable trait.

However, I still prefer the beauty of a normal living person. A body composed of bl00d-water…

It’s terrifying from every angle.

No matter how exquisite the beauty, appearing with bl00d, especially large amounts of bl00d-water, is a scene from a horror film.

As if to punish my distraction, I felt those twisting bl00d-colored water flows squeeze and break the nerves in that area.

More bl00d-colored water surged against the dam, and my body couldn’t help but tremble.

I wanted to beg for mercy, but He only looked at me with those empty bl00d-colored eye sockets, an expression that was faintly tender.

I’ve gone mad.

His lips parted and closed. I couldn’t hear a sound, but an increasingly clear voice crawled out of my mind, striking me dizzy.

“Lu Lu.”

I understood what She was saying again.

“Lu Lu.”

He seems unable to speak, only calling my name silently, over and over.

“Lu Lu, Lu Lu…”

Over and over again.

Stubborn, both of us. One desperately calls, the other desperately ignores.

I didn’t respond to His call. Or rather, I didn’t know how to respond.

He seemed panicked. I thought I saw a phantom image.

One Him after another, rising from the ground, the semi-transparent bl00d-water solidifying into human form.

I was held by Him from the front and back. In the rolling bl00d-waves, I didn’t have much strength and couldn’t stand on my own.

He is truly becoming more and more outrageous.

What can water do?

I didn’t know before, but now I do.

The bl00d-water on the floor was gathered up, clinging almost completely to my skin. They are water, yet they seem to have life and consciousness.

In the pleasure that stirred my nerves and almost overwhelmed all my consciousness, I hugged Him tightly.

I might really be crazy. Otherwise, why would I crave and yearn for a hug so much at a time like this?

He seemed to relax again, and His movements became gentler. I vaguely fell asleep in a stupor, not knowing when.

When I woke up, I was in bed.

This made me sigh in relief. Great, everything was just a dream.

After having such a terrifying and sensual dream, light is needed in every aspect to dispel it. I quickly turned on the lamp.

Was it a dream?

Who changed the bedsheets and duvet cover for me?

Weren’t they in the washing machine?

My consciousness was foggy. I vaguely remembered the “whooshing” sound of the washing machine amidst the roaring bl00d-waves.

I gravely recalled, then retreated from those memories that were both frightening and heart-pounding.

It’s wet.

This is a complete disaster.

I looked at the sheets and duvet cover. If I remember correctly, it was originally a beige sheet.

Now it’s lotus-root pink, very evenly dyed.

I hesitated, pulled up a corner, and sniffed carefully. The laundry detergent’s scent retention is excellent, but there is indeed a faint smell of bl00d.

I can’t rule out having a canker sore and smelling the inside of my mouth, but I don’t think I have a canker sore…

Maybe a scratch on my lip. A little bl00d smell from a small wound is normal.

I plan to tentatively mention it to Xi Rong tomorrow and gauge her reaction to confirm the actual color of her bedsheets.

Maybe I was wrong.

It’s normal to misremember things when one’s mental state is so abnormal that it causes memory lapses and such hallucinations.

After all, memory can deceive people.

So can perception.

The curtains were blown open by the wind. I don’t know when the window was opened.

There were shallow wet marks on the floor, like someone had walked barefoot.

Maybe I sleepwalked.

The curtains revealed a corner of the night. Outside was pitch black, without a trace of light.

Based on my judgment, it is probably 4 a.m., the quietest and darkest time in the world.

I woke up at a terrible time.

The shadows under the bed spread, hard for someone sitting on the bed to notice.

The black shadow almost solidified.

The light was still on. I hugged the quilt, trying to hypnotize myself back to sleep.

I kept having a feeling of being watched. I wrapped myself in the quilt. The hairs on my arms were standing up, and I couldn’t comfort myself at all.

It feels like something is staring at me, through the bed frame, through the mattress.

Delusion, it’s all a delusion.

The space under Xi Rong’s bed is empty. It’s impossible for anything to hide… nothing can hide there.

I originally wanted to get out of bed to pour a glass of water, but now I don’t dare.

I’m not thirsty, not at all—

Eh, when did I pour a glass of water on the bedside table?

The curtains were blown open again by the wind. The wind rustled the leaves, and the wildly shaking tree shadows were stretched and distorted.

I quickly drew back my gaze and reached out one hand to grab the water cup on the bedside.

The shadow extended out from under the bed with my movement. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the thick blackness sway, creeping out a bit from under the bed along the floor.

Hoo, delusion, delusion.

I held the water cup, leaned my back against the headboard, and sat on the pillow.

Taking a sip of warm water, I finally calmed down a lot.

Warm, warm water?

I had checked my phone when I woke up. Xi Rong was asleep, and I had just woken up.