He was fierce while we were intimate, and at one point, I raised my hand and struck him. I suppose I had lost control of my emotions; the moment I swung, I felt the force was too heavy. Yet, as my hand connected solidly with his flesh, I realized with a jolt of horror that the slap hadn't made a sound! Instinctively, I reached out with both hands to grab his back, but I couldn't get a grip at all.
His back was slick and oily. My fingers slid away with his every movement, and some unknown substance began to fill the gaps beneath my fingernails.
I screamed right then and there. Stumbling out of bed, I scrambled to turn on the light.
Under the yellow glow of the bulb, Ren Xing looked at me with a face full of astonishment. "What’s wrong?"
My heart eased slightly, but tears were already streaming down my face; I was utterly terrified. I had a nagging sensation that the person before me wasn't Ren Xing... I looked directly into his eyes, but I couldn't see anything different from usual.
Seeing me cry, he made an effort to coax me. "What is it? Why are you crying? Does it hurt?"
I made him turn around. His back was covered in the bloody welts I had just clawed into him—they were fresh. Only then did I dare to speak. "I... I didn't know what I was touching just now..."
Ren Xing seemed baffled.
We discussed it briefly and then continued.
As we were getting back into it, my phone suddenly chimed with the sound of a text message. It was right by the pillow, and I instinctively reached out to check it, but he snatched it away and tossed it under the bed. I didn't protest.
When we were finished, I felt incredibly sticky and climbed up, wanting to shower. Ren Xing refused, telling me to go to sleep immediately. I told him I couldn't possibly sleep without washing—it was too uncomfortable. Ren Xing thought for a moment and said, "Then I'll go first to test the water temperature. You try to drift off; once the water's hot, I'll call you." With that, he headed into the bathroom. I hadn't realized he could be so attentive.
It had been a long night—first the cold wind at the beach, then the exhausting rounds of intimacy—and I was truly tired. The moment I closed my eyes, I began to drowse. Just as I was about to fall asleep, the phone rang again. This time, it was a call. With my eyes still closed, I fished the phone up from the floor and pressed the answer button. "Hello—"
"Where are you?"
I let out a soft laugh and turned toward the bathroom. "I'm just out. Why, do you miss me already?"
There was a pause on the other end. "If you're going out, at least tell me. I called the house and no one answered, and you've been out of the service area every time I try your cell. Did you see my texts?"
A sense of wrongness washed over me. I forced my heavy eyelids open. The screen displayed the name "Ren Xing" in large letters, showing an active call. I switched to the messaging interface and saw several unread texts sitting in the inbox:
*There’s something at the bureau tonight, I won’t be back. Go home on your own. 16:46*
*Where are you? 18:17*
*Pick up the phone. 21:23*
...
I was suddenly wide awake. Not just awake—my entire body went cold, and my hands and feet broke out in a chilly sweat.
"Ren Xing." I heard my own voice as I spoke the name; it was trembling with a sob.
"What's wrong?"
"Where are you right now?"
"I'm at the Provincial Forensic Bureau. What happened? Are you crying?"
"You've been working overtime all night?"
"Yeah, why... Why are you crying? Ye Xiao? Ye Xiao!"
The phone slipped from my hand.
In the bathroom next door, the rhythmic splashing of the shower continued...
I was completely stunned. It was that state where your mind goes blank and your body refuses to move, your fingers trembling uncontrollably.
About five minutes later, I stood up and walked toward the bathroom.
Before I gripped the doorknob, I was still shaking violently, but once I held it, I actually calmed down. It wasn't that I wasn't afraid or panicked; I just desperately wanted to know what kind of thing had just had its way with me. I couldn't die a fool without knowing the truth.
So, I didn't knock. I opened the door and walked straight in.
The shower stall was at the back of the bathroom, behind a sliding glass door. The showerhead was spraying a fine, dense mist, as if someone were washing. The center of the sliding door was frosted glass, covered in steam, making it impossible to see who was inside. However, the air was thick with the smell of blood. Through the clear lower portion of the glass door, I could see diluted blood on the floor tiles being washed into the drain by the tap water.
I had expected to encounter "Ren Xing" inside, but now it seemed there was no one.
I stepped forward to open the glass door. At that moment, something suddenly lunged from within! I quickly changed my motion from pulling the door open to slamming it shut. A bright red head crashed violently against the glass! Quick as a flash, I grabbed the toilet plunger and wedged it through the double handles. The thing inside couldn't burst through; it pressed against the door, leaving a sliding, bloody handprint, then dissolved into a cloud of red mist. It whistled through the gap between the shower stall and the ceiling, surged over my head, and blasted through the wooden door!
The bathroom was left with nothing but the monotonous sound of the spraying shower.
But I couldn't take it anymore. The smell of blood here was overpowering, mixed with the scent of a sea breeze. I scrambled into the outer room, threw on my clothes and shoes, and bolted into the hallway. Only then did I realize how unnervingly quiet the hotel was; I could hear nothing but my own breathing. Terrified, I ran past the dark, closed doors with the intensity of a sprinter, flying down the stairs. When I reached the front desk, I wanted to ask the woman where this was and how to get back to the city, but she wasn't there.
I didn't dare call out. I could only keep running outside. There was a single streetlamp illuminating the path "Ren Xing" had taken while carrying me. I looked back toward the sea. There, in the murky depths of the ocean, a massive form was moving. It was gargantuan, nearly as large as an island or a forest. I saw its towering head, covered in protruding bony plates over a grey surface. It let out a sharp shriek and then vanished beyond the horizon.
And on the beach where the tide had receded, in the spot where the red Chevrolet had been, sat a pile of old, decaying whale bones. They stared silently at the sea, as if they had held that pose for dozens of centuries...
I was falling apart. I began to walk aimlessly away from the sea, teetering on the edge of a breakdown, constantly checking my phone. Right now, I just desperately wanted to talk to someone—a living person. I tried using the GPS, but it couldn't find my location, and the network was down. My only stroke of luck was that I could still call Ren Xing. He urged me to keep following the road; based on my description, he thought it might be a national highway. He told me if I saw any landmark buildings, I should wait there, and he would come to get me.
But the places I passed seemed to be long-abandoned villages. The houses looked like they were built in the seventies or eighties—crooked and distorted. Looking through the black pits of the windows, I constantly felt as though eyes were watching me. Ren Xing tried to trace my location, but even the telecommunications company couldn't find my signal source. Finally, to save battery, we agreed to check in every half hour. Although Ren Xing couldn't help directly, knowing that someone was out there searching for you was a profound comfort in itself.
In truth, many details from tonight had hinted that the man wasn't Ren Xing. The real Ren Xing was serious but loved to tease and pursue me intimately; however, this "Ren Xing" had been too quiet—a quietness so natural and comfortable that even I, sitting beside him, hadn't wanted to break the serene, beautiful silence. The real Ren Xing wasn't a melancholic, literary youth who would stare at the sea with such sorrow. And Ren Xing wouldn't have known those were newborn jellyfish.
When that being spoke of the sea, his eyes had been filled with a deep, profound affection.
***
