The most terrifying aspect now isn't that Xiao Shu and Hua Gu had their blood drawn by Xing’er, but that after willingly having their blood drawn, they would willingly bring Xing’er back only to let him draw blood again.

Viewed from a rational perspective, these two have been brainwashed by Xing’er, willing to sacrifice themselves just to satisfy his desires. This kind of mental hijacking is far more destructive than any physical harm. I once heard a story like this from my older sister:

The story's protagonist was named Qian Shu. She was a reporter at my sister’s newspaper and had met my sister once, classifying them as acquaintances, if not friends. Although they didn't talk much while working, they knew a surprising amount about each other’s private lives. This stemmed from a common malady in state-owned enterprises: in tiny offices, even the smallest domestic triviality could become news, and once uttered, it would inevitably spread throughout the entire organization within two hours. Furthermore, there were always a few older women who specialized in prying into others’ affairs and then disseminating that gossip to various people, thus fulfilling a grand mission of benefiting the neighborhood busybodies. Qian Shu’s story spread in exactly this manner.

Before meeting her boyfriend, Wu Shang, she was essentially an old maid—no partner, no children, living a routine nine-to-five life. In her free time, she often invited aunties and gossips out for tea, karaoke, or mahjong. Her days were leisurely and carefree, happier than any immortal’s. However, this relaxed existence gradually ended after she met Wu Shang. He was two years her senior, and in terms of looks, he could be described as handsome, dashing, and debonair—the saying, "One smile to topple a city, a second smile to topple a nation," could not be more fitting for this fellow. But inside, he was nothing but hot air; beyond boasting, he possessed no real prowess. A man in his early thirties, his career was a complete shambles. One day he’d switch companies, the next he’d change positions; nothing was stable. He couldn't afford a car, much less a house. Yet, he didn't view this as shameful. He constantly told those around him, especially Qian Shu, that he championed freedom and preferred an unconstrained life, like Li Bai—a romantic, talented poet—even quoting, "Heaven gave me talent, it must be put to use; a thousand pieces of gold spent will surely return," to describe his hope for the future.

The two met online, likely through the "search for nearby people" function built into a chat application. On a beautiful, breezy evening, after chatting for over a month, they decided to meet in person. This first meeting quickly ignited the ** between them, and like dry kindling meeting a raging fire, it burned hotter and hotter. Before long, they became an inseparable couple. At this point, perhaps readers feel gratitude toward that chat application for bridging the gap between two unrelated singles, providing an opportunity for connection and fostering the destiny of a loving couple. However, as an observer, I hold a different view.

After becoming Wu Shang’s girlfriend, Qian Shu was utterly captivated by his handsome appearance and glib tongue. All day long, she lived in a daydream of being an imperial princess, fantasizing that one day this man who loved her deeply would display his talent, rise to prominence, place a diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg on her finger, and marry her amid the envious gazes of the crowd. They would be driving a BMW, speeding along the roads of Hokkaido, chasing through the countryside of Furano, living a life of luxurious splendor. Consequently, Qian Shu's work became increasingly delayed, her effort waned, and she paid less and less attention to her supervisor’s instructions, as if everything in her dream was already within arm's reach. The job that actually provided her livelihood, however, became nothing more than a stumbling block, ready to be discarded at any moment.