Chapter Fifteen: Little Pig Kiki

The young girl was utterly bewildered, her mind thrown into confusion.

A five-star review? Where did this little girl come from?

In all her previous experiences with the “Evil Spirit Teahouse” simulated nightmare… Had there ever been this bizarre little girl? Yet what terrified her most was this: she could not move.

It was a pressure, a suppression from a dream spirit—like the dominance of a high-ranking Dreamwalker over a lesser one. Her pupils contracted as she stared at the little girl whose head twisted a full hundred and eighty degrees. The girl’s tongue, sharp teeth, and bleeding eyes exuded boundless strangeness. The terrifying waves and oppressive aura of the dream spirit surged from her, pouring down like a waterfall from a cliff tens of thousands of miles high, mercilessly striking the girl's heart.

She trembled uncontrollably, fear spreading like the confrontation with an unnamable evil deity, expanding through every cell in her body. All she could manage was to slowly move her eyes.

She saw the geishas around her, their faces painted with blood-red rouge, turn their heads in unison toward the little girl. Vigilance, terror, madness, despair… a cacophony of emotions emanated from these uncanny beings—like nothing she had ever witnessed.

Next came the sickening sound of snapping bones. One by one, the geishas’ necks elongated, swaying like dandelion stalks in the wind. Their scarlet eyes burned with desperation, like gamblers at the end of their rope.

Dream spirit waves surged through every corner. The boiling teapot screamed shrill cries, as if the geishas themselves were wailing.

Her legs shook and trembled. Was this supposed to be a first-rank nightmare simulation? If she remembered correctly, such nightmares featured only a single geisha, perhaps with red eyes and a cup of poisonous tea at most. Since when could they stretch their necks like clay?

In the distance, Luoluo’s eyes brimmed with hunger, like she had spotted a delicious meal. “So…so fragrant…” she giggled, drooling as she spoke.

As her words fell, playing cards floated up, entwined by black threads like little snakes. The girl recognized these cards—they were forbidden artifacts previously produced by Du Fang.

Du Fang?! Could it be this little girl was the embodiment of Du Fang’s inner self?

She looked toward Du Fang, but he remained with his back to her, cradling a teacup, gently blowing on the steam rising from the tea. Pretending to be a master? No! The aura was perfectly balanced, unfathomable.

…

“Ladies, please… don’t be like this…” Du Fang pleaded, surrounded by a flock of beautiful, mature women in slit cheongsams, their long, pale legs exposed. Some perched their hips, elbows on the tea table, hands cradling their chins as they gazed at him. Others sat sideways atop the table, skirts riding up, legs crossed. Some even gently stroked his leg with theirs.

The scene was decadent. Yet Du Fang’s heart was calm, almost resigned. Here it was again! The nightmare’s tone had shifted once more.

…

“Little brother, have some tea. Auntie brewed this Da Hong Pao herself—it’s precious,” said a regal, alluring woman across the table, pouring hot tea with graceful movements and pushing it toward him.

“Thank you, Auntie,” Du Fang replied, quickly averting his gaze. He lifted the blue-and-white porcelain cup, sniffed the aroma, and let the tea’s fragrance fill his nose.

“This tea is so pale,” the woman laughed shamelessly, paying no mind to his slip of the tongue, and even accentuated her curves.

Du Fang smiled shyly, focusing on his tea. He sipped the fragrant brew, its warmth spreading through him, lingering pleasantly on his tongue. He exhaled the warmth coursing through his body, feeling thoroughly cozy.

Fragrant tea in his mouth, beauties surrounding him, curves everywhere… truly soothing. This decadent dream was a corrosion of the will.

The geishas gathered around Du Fang, drinking tea, chatting with him. After all, that was the purpose of a teahouse. In the process, Du Fang listened as the curvaceous auntie lamented—she was the leader of these geisha ladies.

“This teahouse has stood here for generations. Many have come to drink tea and chat. The surrounding buildings have changed over and over, skyscrapers rising, but only this teahouse remains unchanged, out of step with the times.”

“As time went on, fewer people drank tea here. Auntie inherited her father’s tea craft, but as those familiar faces dwindled, the teahouse grew quieter, and Auntie felt lost.”

Resting her chin in her hand, red lips parted, she confided in Du Fang. He nodded earnestly.

“Tea culture is wonderful—a tradition worth preserving,” he said after considering.

“But…the neighborhood was bought by developers. They think the teahouse isn’t fashionable enough, too backward and decayed. They want to tear it down and rebuild…”

“Capital investing in rebuilding the teahouse? Isn’t that a good thing?” Du Fang smiled.

“They want to open a nightclub,” the woman replied, her brows creased with worry and sadness.

Du Fang paused mid-sip, set down his cup, and sighed.

…

Within the teahouse, the geishas twisted in madness, screaming. The next moment, their necks swung, heads hurtling toward Luoluo, intent on tearing her apart.

Luoluo giggled, raising a chubby finger and drawing a circle in the air. The cards floating around her spun rapidly. She pointed forward, and the cards transformed into black threads, slicing through space like a torrent.

Thud, thud, thud, thud! The spinning cards shredded the heads of the geishas, blood and flesh raining down in a torrential downpour.

The young girl was stunned. The horror before her shattered her psyche. Blood and flesh soaked her face and body. These terrifying geisha spirits—all annihilated in a single move!

Luoluo giggled, her barbed tongue licking her lips, clearly enjoying herself. The scattered flesh of the geishas began to reassemble, forming a towering, three-meter-tall, hideous woman, hair wild, face grotesque, chunks of rotten flesh dropping with wet slaps.

Her crimson eyes burned with insanity. The monstrous geisha howled and roared, shattering every teacup in the room. She moved with uncanny agility, spinning and leaping within the teahouse.

“Anyone who destroys this teahouse… must die!” The giant woman screamed hoarsely, leaping high to attack Luoluo, her obsession—or perhaps her conviction—radiating through her. She must defend this teahouse!

A storm seemed to sweep the room. The professional-skirted girl cowered, overwhelmed by pressures she should never have faced at her rank—like a husky lost among wolves, or a bronze rookie thrown into a champion’s arena. Waves of dream spirit battered her body, shaking her soul. She was dumbfounded.

Facing the charging three-meter geisha, Luoluo’s mouth watered, her long tongue twitching in anticipation.

Suddenly, beside Luoluo, Du Fang, who had been facing away from the world, set down his teacup and sighed softly.

…

The scene seemed to freeze.

Luoluo, her appetite piqued, glanced at Du Fang as he sighed, hesitated, and slowly retracted her tongue. Reluctantly, she released the pink pig plush she’d been clutching tightly. The next moment, the pig fell to the ground, its eyes rolling, limbs moving nimbly—it seemed to come alive, its mouth opening wider and wider.

“Kiki, they’re yours now,” Luoluo said. “Dust to dust, earth to earth.”

“Oink oink!” The pig’s dull eyes suddenly gleamed with cunning. Its mouth opened wide, belly round and full, devouring the crazed, giant geisha in just two or three bites.

“Burp~” After eating, the pink pig looked utterly satisfied, even letting out a burp.

With the sound, white glowing motes drifted from the pig’s mouth, within which faintly appeared the silhouettes of cheongsam-clad women.

The figures seemed liberated, bowing in gratitude to Luoluo and Du Fang before dissipating into the air.

Failing to taste the delicacy, Luoluo pouted unhappily, blood tears streaming faster from her eyes, her aura growing ever more terrifying, causing the distant girl to collapse to the ground, trembling in fear.

Luoluo, blood streaming from her eyes, grabbed the pig plush Kiki and began to smack its belly, as if blaming it for eating the tasty treat. Kiki endured the abuse, not daring to move, occasionally licking its lips with its tongue.

After a while, finding it boring, Luoluo finally turned her gaze to the professional-skirted girl sitting on the ground, shaking uncontrollably. Remembering her father’s instructions, Luoluo forced a smile, her mouth stretching into a rare curve, and said with strained cheerfulness:

“Auntie, don’t forget to give a five-star review, okay?”

…

In the assessment room, Zhang Changlin smoked a cigarette, its glow flickering in the ash. He squinted at the girl and Du Fang, both lost in the dream.

One was the evaluator, one the candidate.

But—

“What kind of assessment is this!” Zhang Changlin stared at the screen, crackling with static and snowy distortion.

The professional-skirted girl had used her dream-peering ability. The screen should have shown Du Fang’s assessment. Why was the image so blurry? Why was the screen blank?

“Is it malfunctioning?” Chen Xi asked nervously.

Zhang Changlin exhaled a smoke ring. “It shouldn’t be. The simulated nightmare for assessment is released by the Dreamwalker Association, using imprisoned dream demons. The screen displays the nightmare unleashed by the demon. If the screen is full of static, like lost signal… unless the dream demon has died…”

He stopped, stunned.

Lin Liuli looked at him deeply. What a clever little fox.

Chen Xi shivered involuntarily, glancing in terror at Du Fang, still sitting in the chair with a shy smile as if lost in a pleasant dream.

Vaguely, Chen Xi seemed to see, beside Du Fang, a little girl clutching a pink pig plush, tongue long and barbed, head twisted one hundred and eighty degrees, cocking her head and smiling at her.

…

“Excellent things are never eliminated; gold will always shine. If you persist, you’ll wait for the moment when the dust is washed away and brilliance blooms anew.”

“But I can’t urge you to persevere. Sometimes, it’s hard for people to resist capital, and it might even bring disaster.”

“You must learn to protect yourselves.”

“As long as the green hills remain, there’s no fear of running out of firewood.”

Du Fang spoke earnestly.

He might have guessed a melodramatic story, but reality was often more absurd and melodramatic than fiction.

The curvaceous auntie smiled alluringly, eyes brimming with charm. “Little brother, you’re right. But the blood and sweat of generations are here—how could Auntie give up?”

“Auntie… will always choose to persist.”

The geishas laughed merrily, chirping that they’d accompany Auntie.

Du Fang, in a daze, seemed to see tears glimmering at the corners of their smiling eyes. Within the falling droplets, collapsed buildings, scattered tea leaves, shattered corpses were reflected.

Some people simply refuse to conform to the currents of the times. Even if everything collapses, even if faces and places change, their souls will still choose to guard their persistence in special ways.

The dream continued, preserving its beauty and warmth.

Du Fang spent the rest of the time chatting happily with Auntie and her sisters. Joy filled the air.

Auntie and the cheongsam-clad beauties escorted Du Fang to the teahouse door.

“Little brother, is there any lady you fancy? Auntie can help you make a match,” Auntie winked with a smile.

Du Fang quickly waved his hands—here it was again! No, absolutely not.

Why did all the aunties in these beautiful dreams want to introduce him to someone? The card Auntie had done the same, now this one too.

Truly… helpless.

Beneath the setting sun, Du Fang slowly departed.

“To see the beauty in dreams is a kind of happiness and fortune. Little brother, may you always be happy, the happiest person in the world,” Auntie called out with a smile, sending her blessings.

Her voice lingered in the air.

Du Fang turned suddenly, only to find that the scene behind him had already faded like lanterns reflected on water, scattered by a stone, gradually disappearing.