Chapter Forty-One: Gratitude to Brother Hou for the Fallen Deity

Du Fang felt as though he was dreaming.

Compared to his previous pleasant dreams, this one… could be considered a good dream as well. Yet, in contrast to before, it seemed something was missing. Yes, gone were the radiant, youthful girls, gone were the voluptuous and mature women; the dream was less tinged with sensuality, and more suffused with a heroic spirit.

In the dream, Du Fang felt himself seated upon a throne fashioned from the stars themselves, gazing down upon all existence—countless lands, the boundless celestial dome, the infinite void—all lay prostrate beneath his feet.

All around him, shadowy figures hovered, each one instilling in Du Fang a sense of unparalleled familiarity, as if they were bound to him by blood.

Du Fang raised his eyes, sweeping his gaze across those shadows. Where his gaze fell, the darkness faded from some, revealing their faces.

One petite shadow rode atop a large pink pig, dressed in a princess gown, her head crowned with a purple-gold circlet, innocent and charming—like an angel descended to earth. It was Luoluo.

Du Fang was startled. Luoluo?

His gaze shifted again. Beside Luoluo stood another shadow, a woman with a voluptuous, alluring figure. She seemed clad in a form-fitting qipao that accentuated every curve. This graceful shadow had only one hand illuminated.

His wife’s hand?!

Du Fang recognized that fair, slender hand at once. It was his wife’s. Which meant… this shapely figure must be his wife, the one he officially acknowledged.

At this thought, Du Fang couldn’t help but look a little longer.

He swept his gaze further. The other figures remained shrouded in darkness, as if lost in a storm of night. Were these his family?

Du Fang was no fool. With Luoluo and his wife’s presence, and that faint sense of blood-bond, it was easy to deduce that the remaining shadows were his missing family members. Where they were, what hardships they faced, he did not know.

He would have to seek them out.

Still, Du Fang felt his first priority was to reunite with his wife. Once she was found, he could search for the others—after all, in the vast world, nothing was more important than her.

With this thought, Du Fang felt he ought to rise and say a few words.

He slowly stood from the high and majestic throne, infused with awe and authority.

Thunder rumbled. In an instant, the stars revolved, the heavens and earth were transformed!

Such spectacular effects for a dream… truly dazzling! Though, perhaps a bit taxing on the brain cells.

Du Fang marveled at how, simply by standing, the dreamscape collapsed—stars falling, galaxies vanishing. He felt a wave of exhilaration.

He felt invincible.

This dream, though it lacked voluptuous women and short-skirted girls, was no less a good dream. After all, who hasn’t dreamed of being invincible?

As Du Fang rose, the shadows seemed to stir in response.

Luoluo included.

All bowed to him in respectful salute, voices of myriad timbres ringing out:

“Welcome—”

“Family Head.”

Immersed in the reverent chorus, Du Fang froze.

He looked at Luoluo.

Because he realized: Luoluo called him Family Head.

No longer… Daddy.

…

…

Inside the room.

Chen Hou felt suffocated.

He stared in horror at the suddenly transformed Du Fang—hair like a silver river cascading to his waist, his body radiating an overwhelming, terrifying pressure.

Family Head?

That bizarre little girl… called him Family Head?

A family of Fallen Gods?

Chen Hou felt he had gotten himself into unimaginable trouble.

Worst of all, the Fallen God’s will he had awakened… was cowed!

That was a Fallen God’s will! Each Fallen God was born from the city-destroying level of dream disaster, supreme and ineffable, knowing only destruction and ruin! How could a Fallen God be afraid?!

Fallen God, how can you possibly be afraid?!

What exactly were Du Fang and that little girl… to make even a Fallen God tremble?!

Thud.

Thud, thud.

Du Fang, silver hair drifting behind him, walked step by step to Chen Hou.

Then, a hand descended.

Chen Hou felt his entire head gripped in a palm, easily plucked from his shoulders.

And as he was lifted up…

The last thing Chen Hou saw was Du Fang’s golden eyes blazing with brilliant light.

Crack!

A crisp sound.

Chen Hou’s head was crushed in an instant—red and white matter splattering everywhere.

Yet, before his corpse could hit the floor, a struggling shadow emerged from the shattered skull, trembling in terror.

“A god?”

“Just an ingredient.”

The silver-haired Du Fang’s lips curled in a cold, mocking sneer.

Luoluo, beside him, looked on with respectful excitement.

The pig Qiqi rolled on the floor, cowering.

“Misunderstanding!!!”

A shrill scream pierced the air.

The shadow inside Chen Hou was pulled out entirely—caught in Du Fang’s hand, writhing and twisting like an octopus flailing its tentacles.

Du Fang tilted his head, golden eyes a little confused.

“Why have I awakened?”

“And the moment I awake, someone delivers food to my door…”

His gaze fixed on the convulsing shadow.

“What am I supposed to say at a time like this?”

He spoke slowly.

From afar, Luoluo grinned with rows of sharp teeth. “Thanks for the rocket, bro?”

“Thanks, Brother Hou, for sending a Fallen God?”

Du Fang looked over at her.

Luoluo quickly covered her mouth, almost forgetting—Family Head and Daddy were not the same.

Then, Du Fang tore the shadow in two.

Opening wide, he stuffed half into his mouth, savoring it bite by bite as though tasting a delicacy…

At last, he swallowed it whole and burped contentedly.

He tossed the remaining half, still squirming, to Luoluo.

“Good child. Well spoken.”

“You deserve a reward.”

Luoluo took the shadow, grinning broadly, sharp teeth gleaming, and swallowed it whole without hesitation.

The pink pig Qiqi, lying on the ground, trembled even harder, as if it were the one being devoured.

“Sated. I shall sleep.”

“Do not disturb me without cause.”

A faint voice lingered in the room.

Then, under the respectful gazes of Luoluo and Qiqi, Du Fang’s silver-haired figure lay back down on the dining table, silver hair receding and morphing once more into close-cropped black hair.

His wife’s hand still rested quietly on his shoulder, caressing him gently with a lover’s longing.

Luoluo, content, burped, tears of blood trickling ever faster from her joyful eyes.

…

…

In the silent room, cold moonlight poured in.

Chen Hou’s monkey-face mask lay split in two.

His head exploded into fragments.

He knelt on the floor, headless, before the table where Du Fang lay sleeping.

His head had been crushed in the dream.

Crushed in reality as well.

Luoluo hugged the pink pig toy Qiqi, tilting her head as she looked at Chen Hou’s headless corpse, her smile innocent and childlike.

“What a shame. No more tasty ginger duck to eat.”

“But, compared to ginger duck, gods taste even better.”

“But why did the Family Head awaken? Was it… the duck? Does he like duck? Or was there some special seasoning in the ginger duck?”

Luoluo tilted her head.

Then, she extended a chubby finger.

Chen Hou’s headless body, along with the scattered blood and brain matter, began to float, leaving not a trace in the room.

Even the scent of blood was swept away, leaving everything spotless.

“Daddy likes things clean. Can’t let you dirty Daddy’s house.”

Luoluo said in her childish voice.

To her, Daddy was Daddy, Family Head was Family Head—both her kin, both deserving of her care.

She pointed her plump finger toward the balcony window.

Whoosh!

Chen Hou’s headless corpse was flung out like a rag, along with the blood and brain matter—all hurled out from the balcony.

Under the moonlight, the crimson blood and floating white matter formed a strange, chilling tableau.

…

…

Lin Liuli lingered outside the apartment complex for a long while.

She saw that Du Fang’s room had gone dark long ago.

She knew then—Chen Hou must be making his move.

After a moment’s thought, Lin Liuli bit her lip, clicked her high heels, and headed toward the building.

She was going to save Du Fang.

Though she knew it violated her organization’s rules… Du Fang was, after all, her charge. Why should Chen Hou interfere?

Just as she reached the base of the building—

Suddenly.

Lin Liuli’s steps faltered.

A howling wind sounded; blood rained down from the sky.

A headless corpse landed with a slap at her feet, arms and legs twisted grotesquely.

Beside it, a monkey-face mask, split in two, still bore a smiling expression.

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