Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 8: Regret

Chapter 8: Regret

Did you just speak? Xu Jiu asked him.

Cao Weidong remained silent.

Xu Jiu had grown accustomed to his read-but-no-reply habit.

You’re not thinking of keeping me locked up here, are you? It’s useless – if I don’t respond to messages for a day, you have no idea how many people would be concerned about my whereabouts.

Xu Jiu took out his phone and waved it in front of Cao Weidong’s face. When he opened WeChat, the notification sounds erupted like firecrackers hung before a door during New Year’s, crackling incessantly. The phone vibrated so violently in his hand it nearly became a drill.

Xu Jiu preened like a peacock, his face sporting an ostentatious smile that nearly outshone the aging light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I’m not like you. Nobody cares whether you live or die, while plenty of people care about me.

For some reason, Xu Jiu suddenly felt Cao Weidong’s dark, deep eyes had undergone a subtle change, as if they now carried a vicious intensity that wanted to break all four of his limbs.

But when Xu Jiu looked more carefully, they seemed no different from usual.

Yet Xu Jiu still felt a chill run down his spine. Seeing the complete collection of saws, hammers, wrenches and other tools in the room, Xu Jiu rarely showed fear.

Stop looking at me like that. Do you think I want to stay in your place? It’s so dark outside, I can’t find my way back, and my phone’s GPS has no signal.

Cao Weidong ignored him, returning to the desk where he pulled out a chair and sat down, busying himself with his own affairs.

Curious, Xu Jiu wandered around the room, rudely touching this and that. After examining these specimens for a while, Xu Jiu didn’t feel afraid but rather thought Cao Weidong was quite dexterous.

Xu Jiu picked up a small mouse specimen, its fur still as lifelike as when it was alive.

Did you make all these yourself? You’re quite skilled with your hands.

Cao Weidong coldly replied, Bought them.

Xu Jiu rolled his eyes – wasted praise.

Suddenly, the scent of disinfectant filled the air. Xu Jiu’s nose twitched as he followed the smell to Cao Weidong’s side.

Only then did Xu Jiu notice Cao Weidong’s right hand was tightly wrapped in fresh white gauze, while the old gauze stained with paint and glue odor was discarded on one side of the desk.

Did I step on it? Xu Jiu asked with a smile.

As if seeking credit.

Cao Weidong glanced up and nodded.

Did it break? Xu Jiu pressed further. Why would the bar owner still make you work with a broken hand?

Cao Weidong didn’t respond anymore, but just being able to disgust Cao Weidong satisfied Xu Jiu enough. Walking away, he couldn’t help but chuckle gleefully.

Why do you have so many surveillance cameras at home? Are there still living people in your house?

Xu Jiu looked up at the cameras, each with a red light indicating that countless cameras above were all powered on.

I’ve investigated you. When your parents divorced, neither wanted you and abandoned you at the courthouse. Then they both died in a car accident on their way home. Your father stepped on the gas while your mother grabbed the steering wheel – they died together, leaving you an unwanted orphan.

As Xu Jiu spoke these words, he deliberately slowed his voice, meticulously delivering every syllable to Cao Weidong.

Tearing open someone’s wounds, dissecting them, and presenting them bloody before their eyes – such malicious acts were what Xu Jiu delighted in doing.

Using others’ pain as nourishment to enrich his boring life.

But unfortunately, Cao Weidong remained unmoved. Xu Jiu didn’t obtain even the slightest bit of the emotional reaction he had anticipated.

No sorrow, no pain, no remembrance.

Cao Weidong was like the specimen in his hand.

He had actually died long ago—on the day he was abandoned at the courthouse. Then, upon receiving news of his parents’ death, the specimen of his small body was shattered by their memorial tablets. It was he himself who painstakingly pieced together the fragments of his being during those long, lonely years.

So when Xu Jiu dragged these matters back into the light, Cao Weidong felt nothing. The dead do not grieve for the dead.

Xu Jiu, finding himself talking to a wall, shut his mouth and continued pacing around the room. After several laps with no response, he flopped onto Cao Weidong’s bed without removing his shoes.

Cao Weidong’s apartment was pathetically small—just a square room with a cramped bathroom stuffed in one corner, so narrow even a single man would find it suffocating.

The entire place was smaller than Xu Jiu’s bathroom at home.

Xu Jiu opened his phone, and Pan Yu immediately bombarded him with a video call.

Xu Jiu! Where did you run off to?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Xu Jiu pressed his face close to the camera, carefully avoiding any glimpse of Cao Weidong’s impoverished living conditions.

The moment Xu Jiu’s exquisitely handsome face appeared on screen, a flock of lavishly dressed women swarmed into view from Pan Yu’s end, batting their eyelashes coquettishly at the phone.

Young Master Xu, come out and play! We haven’t seen you in ages—I’ve missed you so, so much!

Xu Jiu~ Have you forgotten all about us sisters now that you have some new beauty in your arms?

Look at my new lipstick, Young Master Xu—it’s chocolate flavored!

Hahaha— Xu Jiu grinned foolishly, basking in the attention from these beauties.

Pan Yu, noticing the dim yellowish lighting behind Xu Jiu, immediately grew suspicious: Xu Jiu, where are you? Why does the lighting look so flickery?

Xu Jiu glanced at Cao Weidong sitting nearby, pinched his flushed earlobe, and whispered: Doing poverty alleviation work.

A chorus of teasing immediately erupted from the phone, with drawn-out exclamations: Ooh~ Young Master Xu is changing his taste! Going for poor-but-pretty scholarship students now? Not into mature women anymore?

Xu Jiu’s poverty alleviation remark had been misinterpreted as him dating some impoverished college girl.

Before Xu Jiu could explain, a pale hand suddenly covered the screen.

Xu Jiu instinctively tried to snatch back his phone, but Cao Weidong moved with swift decisiveness, directly ending the video call for him.

Xu Jiu’s face burned even redder.

He didn’t know if Cao Weidong had been captured by the front camera during their struggle. If he had been, how could Xu Jiu ever show his face in public again?

Cao Weidong turned off the light and loomed over Xu Jiu like a mountain, pressing him toward the corner of the bed.

The narrow single bed was barely adequate for two grown male college students. With Cao Weidong half-pinning him down, their bodies pressed together, Xu Jiu felt completely immobilized beneath his weight.

Xu Jiu began to sense something was off—the pitch-black room, the overly close proximity, his confiscated phone, the locked door… everything felt unnerving.

What… what are you doing? Xu Jiu stammered in protest.

Sleeping, Cao Weidong stated.

Then move over. I haven’t washed up yet.

Nothing here is for you. Don’t bother.

Xu Jiu choked back his words, shivering as he voiced his unease:

You’re not going to pull out chains and lock me here, are you?

Xu Jiu’s historical record wasn’t lacking in such experiences. That one time when the protagonist suppressed him like the Monkey King under a mountain for eight hundred years, fortunately the system detected Xu Jiu’s disconnection and extracted him in advance.

Xu Jiu grew increasingly uneasy because Cao Weidong hadn’t answered his question.

Yet the breathing sounds by his ears clearly indicated Cao Weidong wasn’t asleep—he was listening.

Choking up further, Xu Jiu fumbled blindly in the darkness until he finally caught Cao Weidong’s arm, clutching it tightly while pleading: C-could you turn on the light?

Cao Weidong remained silent. He withdrew his arm and turned sideways to sleep, deliberately ignoring Xu Jiu’s fear.

As Xu Jiu lifted his eyelids, several dangerous red dots suddenly emerged in the pitch-black darkness, resembling the glowing eyes of demons and monsters. It felt as if the specimens in the corners had come alive, casting bloody, malicious gazes toward him.

Trembling all over from fright, Xu Jiu couldn’t possibly admit that a grown man like him was afraid of darkness and ghosts.

He could only treat Cao Weidong as his last lifeline, pressing closely against Cao Weidong’s back from behind, his grip on the clothing so tight even his fingernails were shaking.

Not daring to open his eyes, Xu Jiu forced himself to sleep.

It wasn’t until Cao Weidong turned over and gathered him into his arms, gently stroking his unsettled back, that the fear within Xu Jiu gradually dissipated.

Early the next morning, the moment Xu Jiu opened his eyes, the room full of inanimate objects seemed to be staring at him, startling him instantly awake. Without lingering in bed, he jumped down and rushed straight to the iron door.

Xu Jiu charged to the iron door and slammed against it.

He frantically twisted the door lock.

Click—

The iron door showed no response.

Click—!

Click—!

Click—!

Click—

!!!

Once, twice, three times, four times.

The iron door remained completely immobile.

Suddenly, the words that had brushed past his ear last night exploded in Xu Jiu’s mind:

Don’t regret it.

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Which title do you think works better: The Villain Targeted by the Damp Male Ghost or The Villain Kept by the Damp Male Ghost? I’m having trouble deciding, so I’m asking for your opinions. Please help me choose T.T