# 489
Chapter 489 – The Fish in “Fish”
“He fainted from exhaustion?”
Seventh Seat and Third Seat stared at the unconscious Ninth Seat Shen Qingzhu had just carried to the bed, surprise flickering in their eyes.
Shen Qingzhu nodded. “We were smoking in the yard. The moment he stood up he swayed and collapsed.”
Third Seat walked to the bedside, laid a hand on Ninth Seat’s forehead, sensed for a moment, then gave a slight nod.
“His mental power really is badly overdrawn.”
“Tch, idiot. Is he crazy, pushing so hard?” Seventh Seat snapped her fan shut and rolled her eyes. “Lord Yiyu isn’t even here—who’s he trying to impress with all that desperation?”
Shen Qingzhu lifted his head, meeting the qipao-clad woman’s gaze, murderous intent flashing across his pupils.
“Woman, watch your mouth. It’s slippery parasites like you who’ve slowed our progress to a crawl…”
Seventh Seat narrowed her eyes. “Oh, how touching—standing up for him already, rookie?”
The temperature in Shen Qingzhu’s stare dropped another few degrees.
“Enough.” Third Seat spoke softly. “Everyone out. Let Ninth Seat rest… Oh, and the manor’s food is almost gone. Tenth Seat, go with Seventh Seat to buy a few days’ worth—no need for a huge haul. Quick trip, quick return.”
Seventh Seat shot Shen Qingzhu a cold glance, snorted, and strode out.
A barely perceptible gleam slid through Shen Qingzhu’s eyes.
“Understood… Lord Third Seat.”
…
Laboratory.
Pale-gold sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a faint halo across the silver-white operating table. A teenager in a lab coat stood beside it, meticulously slicing open the corpse’s skin with a scalpel.
Jiang Er, dressed in a white sundress, sat in the corner watching An Qingyu work, confusion surfacing in her eyes.
She drifted down from the bookshelf and landed in front of him, blinking.
An Qingyu looked up from his task, met her gaze, started slightly, then smiled as though remembering something.
“I forgot you can’t speak—wait a moment…”
He left the room and returned with a tiny deep-blue MP3 player.
In this day and age an MP3 was practically an antique; he’d rummaged through the entire attic before unearthing the relic. He switched it on, adjusted the volume, and set it beside the table.
“The sound quality is far better than that old TV—closer to your real voice,” he said with a gentle smile.
Jiang Er stared at the device and slowly raised her hand.
Static crackled from the speaker.
“Welcome to FM 101.1, you’re listening to—bzzt—Welcome to the noon story hour. Last time, Earth’s Ninth Emperor Ji Qianming shattered the Divine Realm, then—bzzt—Left hand, right hand, slow motion—bzzt—
You… bzzt, what are you doing?”
Magnetic interference hissed until, after a moment’s tuning, Jiang Er locked the MP3 to her frequency.
Unlike the tinny voice that had once come through the battered television, the sound that emerged now was that of a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl—youthful, bright, alive.
Scalpel in hand, An Qingyu chuckled. “I’m restoring your body.”
“Restoring?” Jiang Er glanced at the intact corpse. “Didn’t you already piece me together?”
He shook his head. “That was just for transport. Stitching limbs isn’t enough—left in the open air this long, the tissue has rotted badly. I’m going to return it to how it was… to how you looked when you were alive.
I’ll erase every wound, rebuild your muscles, revive your cells, make your skin glow again…
I can’t bring you back to life,
but I can give you a body as beautiful as it once was.”
Jiang Er was stunned.
“Can… can that really be done?”
“It can.” An Qingyu adjusted his glasses. “Maybe only I can.”
She studied his eyes, biting her lip. “Why help me?”
“To preserve your brain’s physiological functions I’m going to freeze your entire body—appearance included—in ice.
I think your face should be preserved at its loveliest moment.”
He smiled softly. “Besides, bringing a dead body back to life is a fascinating challenge—I’ve always wanted to try.”
His smile was pure, quiet, like sunlight spilling through the window; in those clear eyes there wasn’t a trace of darkness.
Even standing over a corpse with a scalpel, he radiated warmth rather than gloom.
Jiang Er stared, transfixed.
“Thank you…”
After a long pause her voice drifted from the MP3.
“No need to thank me.”
An Qingyu lowered his head and resumed work. Under his hands the blotched, scabbed body slowly regained its original form…
Jiang Er sat nearby, watching her own flesh revive beneath the boy’s fingers—a surreal feeling.
“Will… will I truly live forever?” she asked quietly.
“Do you want to?”
“…No.” She hesitated. “I can only move within one kilometer of my body—like a bird in a cage, a fish in a tank… Without freedom, existing forever is just eternal imprisonment.
I don’t want to be a prisoner…”
An Qingyu nodded. “I understand. Actually, ‘immortality’ isn’t accurate…
As long as I’m alive, you won’t die.
He lifted his gaze to her.
“My ice will seal you. While it remains, your Spiritual Medium Field will keep running and you’ll persist…
The day I die, the ice will melt,
and three days later you’ll vanish completely.”
A breeze drifted in, lifting the white curtain and brushing Jiang Er’s intangible form.
She gazed at him for a long while, a bitter, helpless smile touching her cool features.
“So my fate is tied to yours?”
“Mm.”
“But I still don’t know your name.” She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear and extended an ethereal hand.
“I’m Jiang Er—‘Jiang’ as in the Yangtze, ‘Er’ as in Erhai Lake.”
“An Qingyu,” he answered with a gentle smile. “The ‘yu’ in ‘little fish’.”
His hand passed through golden sunlight and clasped her translucent one.