Xing'er’s teeth were shockingly sharp; a single bite left Ali’s neck a bloody, mangled mess, with fresh blood weeping down. Having learned from the previous lesson, little Shu could no longer bring herself to strike him, leaving the task to me.

I braced Ali’s trembling body with one arm, just as before, while using my other hand to wrench Xing’er’s ear, attempting to pull him off Ali’s neck. But this maneuver proved far less effective than the first time. He leveraged the movement, lifting his head without even looking at me, tossing Ali aside, and then lunged at me with a fierce ao wu sound. His two small arms clamped tightly around my shoulders, rendering me immobile, and his needle-sharp teeth plunged instantly into my throat. A sensation, simultaneously painful and electrifying, shot up from the base of my neck.

This was my first truly intimate encounter with Xing’er drawing blood. The previous bite on my shoulder had been pure aggression, yielding only a chilling pain, entirely devoid of pleasure. This time, however, was different. No description suited the marvelous feeling better than being simultaneously pained and delighted. Only then did I grasp why Hua Gu and little Shu, after being fed upon, didn't resist but instead defended him more fiercely. The ecstasy intertwined with the agony was so intense that it seized their very souls, leaving them utterly devoted to the phantom child, as if brainwashed. Ali, being merely a child, possessed a simple worldview: happiness was happiness, pain was pain. Any suffering interwoven with pleasure was simply categorized as pain. It was for this reason that she became the first to resist.

Perhaps I would not have been the second to resist, because in the instant his fangs sank into my flesh, I felt an overwhelming sense of surrender. My entire being seemed to gently sink, losing awareness of everyone around me, forgetting the initial agony, even forgetting who I was. I yielded, simply following the gnawing of those teeth and willingly offering up my own vitality.

As I drifted in that haze, the Chuan Chang Gu stirring within my gut began to move. They surged upward and then descended, creating a gurgling sound that twisted my viscera with agonizing spasms. A distant voice echoed by my ear: “Wake up. Do not, under any circumstances, forget yourself. Do not drown in the pleasure of being fed upon and become a captive of the Ghost Infant…”

The voice repeated its warning, yet I could do nothing but close my eyes, succumbing to the endless rapture as my blood was slowly drawn out. No matter how fiercely the internal parasites tormented me, they could not pull me from that enveloping fog.

Suddenly, a sharp pang sounded, and Xing’er’s pointed teeth automatically withdrew from my neck. His entire body went slack, and he tumbled to the floor just as before, tilting his head as he began to snore deeply. I raised my head to see little Shu standing there, clutching a stick, her eyes wet with unshed tears as she looked at me.

“Now you know how hard it is to strike him, don’t you?” little Shu forced out, battling back her tears, her tone deliberately harsh.

“Yes,” I nodded. Looking back at Xing’er, a wave of profound pity involuntarily washed over me, as if protecting him was my inherent duty, and causing him harm meant my own torment. This, perhaps, was the nature of the contract between the Ghost Infant and its host. With such a bond in place, he could feed on the host’s blood without restraint, never fearing resistance or betrayal. All he needed to do was offer a tiny sliver of pleasure during the process—an intoxicating feeling only attainable through narcotics.

It was, undeniably, a vile transaction; only those with truly strong wills could withstand the Devil’s temptation.