Chapter 82: Gone in the Blink of an Eye

Zhou Wangyang’s appearance matched the common image most people had of a “boss”—his suit was impeccably tailored, his leather shoes gleamed, his stomach protruded slightly, his hair was thinning, and the bags under his eyes and the flesh of his cheeks sagged a little. Yet his eyes shone with a brightness that seemed at odds with his age.

Beside him, Mrs. Zhou wore light makeup, making no effort to conceal the wrinkles on her face. Her attire was simple and elegant, her demeanor gentle, and on the arm wrapped around Zhou Wangyang’s own was a diamond wedding ring. Aside from that, she wore only a single strand of pearls at her throat—an understated display.

Her other hand rested on the arm of their son. The boy looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, but he lacked the rebelliousness or defiance typical of his age; instead, he appeared considerate and obedient, letting his mother affectionately hold his arm as he followed his parents with every step. His tracksuit was an ordinary style, the sort that could be seen on any street, and his wrist bore a plain smart watch. From head to toe, only his sneakers stood out—vividly colored and fashionable, quite at odds with the more formal attire of his parents, yet lending him a youthful energy.

Surrounding them was a crowd—reporters, doctors from Kang’an International, representatives from the Welfare Institute. The baby had been transferred to Kang’an International, but not long ago Longda Affiliated Hospital had already registered him as a resident of the Longcheng Welfare Institute, granting him an identity. Also present were Zhou Wangyang’s secretary and assistant. Despite being the center of attention, the three of them seemed as serene as any family out for dinner.

Zhou Wangyang remained silent, but his wife turned her head toward the doctors from Kang’an International, asking detailed questions about the baby’s condition—as thorough as though she’d looked up every rumor online, displaying her familiarity with the case.

The doctor answered patiently, explaining as he went.

“…As long as he’s healthy. I’ve seen those short videos online… it’s all so worrying,” Mrs. Zhou sighed, a look of relief appearing on her face.

The doctor smiled, glancing at the camera before replying, “Please rest assured. Our medical resources at Kang’an International are extensive. All our equipment is state-of-the-art, and our medications are all internationally imported. Some of our new drugs and techniques are not only being used for the first time domestically, but are just now entering trials abroad. New things always need repeated validation before they can be widely adopted. But the truth is, many patients just don’t have the time to wait. For those who have reached the end of the line, access to these experimental drugs and techniques is their only lifeline.”

Mrs. Zhou nodded in agreement.

Zhou Wangyang laughed. “Don’t let those online rumors worry you. See the truth for yourself, and you’ll understand.”

Mrs. Zhou nodded again.

In this brief exchange, the group had already reached the elevators.

Of course, not everyone could fit into a single elevator, and Kang’an International had more than one. The crowd split up, and once two of the cameras and several reporters were absent, the elevator grew quiet. Mrs. Zhou stopped talking, and the doctor ceased his explanations.

When the elevator doors opened, everyone regrouped. Mrs. Zhou spoke again, her tone urgent: “Is this where the ward is?”

The doctor nodded, leading the way. “All our rooms are private. For the baby’s health, we’ve dedicated this entire floor to him alone. He’s the only patient here. Of course, that’s because we’re well-resourced and have plenty of space.”

Zhou Wangyang patted his wife’s hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll see him soon.”

The group filed into the ward.

It was spacious, nothing like the stark white walls and ceilings one usually expected. The walls were covered in cheerful cartoon murals; balloons and stuffed toys hung from the ceiling. Shelves in the corner overflowed with plush animals. Even the crib was decorated, so that the room looked more like a wealthy family’s nursery than a hospital room. Yet the presence of a middle-aged nurse at the crib, a nurse’s station in the corner, and the monitoring equipment confirmed this was still a hospital.

The camera panned around, capturing the cheerful room before focusing on the baby lying in the crib.

The baby twisted his head, eyes wide open, staring intently at the influx of people.

The doctor explained, “We provide twenty-four-hour care here. This is our most experienced nurse—she was formerly head nurse at Longcheng’s Women and Children’s Hospital, brought here with a generous offer to care for newborns. For this case, we specially assigned her to the baby. There’s also a young nurse,” he gestured toward the woman behind the nurse’s station, “though in fact she holds doctorates in nursing and nutrition, studied abroad, and is certified in three countries.”

He continued, “Besides our staff, we have the latest monitoring equipment…” He pointed to the heart monitor showing a steady rhythm.

Those reassuring red lines offered a sense of calm.

But in the crowd, Sheng Yao felt nothing of the sort.

He heard none of the doctor’s explanations. What he heard was the movement of a certain “thing” within the baby’s blood vessels.

Inside the infant, the “thing” was growing more active. The baby stared unblinkingly at Zhou Wangyang, as if he’d known all along who the main character in this scene was.

Those deep, dark eyes showed no emotion, and yet seemed to contain every emotion at once.

Sheng Yao’s sense of unease grew stronger.

“…Knowing the baby is so well cared for, I’m relieved,” Mrs. Zhou said.

Sheng Yao snapped back to attention, realizing the doctor had finished his introduction to Kang’an International’s resources. As Mrs. Zhou spoke, the doctor seemed about to further extol the hospital’s virtues, but the previously silent reporter interjected.

“Mr. Zhou, there have been rumors online about the baby’s origins. The police have asked for your assistance in their investigation. Do you or your family have any connection to the baby or his biological mother?” The reporter asked quickly, thrusting a small microphone to Zhou Wangyang’s lips, his posture leaving no room for evasion.

Zhou Wangyang’s expression didn’t change, nor did Mrs. Zhou’s; only their son seemed unable to maintain his composure, pressing his lips together and glancing away.

Zhou Wangyang answered solemnly, “There are a lot of misunderstandings about me online… Normally, these matters should be announced by the police, and before the case is closed, they won’t reveal any information. As a law-abiding citizen, I have cooperated fully. But now the matter has reached a stalemate and is greatly affecting me and my family… In truth, the baby’s biological mother was an employee at Fresh Wangyang. Not only did I cooperate with the investigation, so did other staff members. We were simply assisting the police as required. I’m busy with work and don’t pay much attention to internet rumors. I only learned about the baby’s existence through the police.”

He squeezed Mrs. Zhou’s hand. “I must thank my wife. She saw the news online but trusted me completely and supported my cooperation with the authorities. She was the one who suggested adopting the baby. But really, it’s not us adopting him—it’s Fresh Wangyang adopting him. I have always considered all our employees as family. People in Longcheng know that Fresh Wangyang always offers the best benefits and support, not only to employees but to their families. We’ve long provided insurance for everyone, routinely donate money and goods to those in need. Not just employees, but also our customers and many residents of Longcheng. We always do what we can to help. The baby has been our family from the start. Now, we’re just making it official by bringing him home.”

This lengthy speech was clearly well rehearsed. Zhou Wangyang spoke with sincerity, while Mrs. Zhou’s smile matched his. Together, they presented a flawless image for the cameras—so convincing that many might be moved by their words.

But neither Sheng Yao, the outsider, nor the baby himself was moved.

As Zhou Wangyang spoke, Sheng Yao saw the “thing” within the baby growing more agitated. The infant seemed provoked, his pupils dilating and contracting in a distinctly inhuman manner. Yet on the heart monitor, the line remained steady—no sign of disturbance.

“…May we hold the baby?” Mrs. Zhou’s words startled Sheng Yao, who looked anxiously at the crowd.

He could make himself unseen, but not entirely absent. At this moment, he was hidden among the spaces between people, some distance from the Zhou family and the crib.

“Of course,” the doctor replied immediately.

Sheng Yao’s anxiety spiked. Thinking quickly, he raised his gaze, pressed off the floor, and grabbed the doorframe. Like some boneless creature, he pulled himself up, contracting his body without touching anyone below, and clung to the ceiling.

Moving along the ceiling, Sheng Yao positioned himself above the crib, searching for a place to descend.

The middle-aged nurse had already removed the baby’s electrodes and lifted him, handing him to Mrs. Zhou.

Mrs. Zhou reached out.

Sheng Yao drifted down like a feather, extending his hand.

“Let’s take a photo,” Zhou Wangyang’s secretary suggested to a reporter, discreetly nudging him forward.

A camera swung into place, blocking Sheng Yao’s hand.

He quickly withdrew, ducked, and slipped through the space below, eyes fixed on the baby as he reached out again—this time his fingers brushed the child’s body.

The baby showed no reaction, as if unaware of Sheng Yao’s touch.

Sheng Yao hesitated. If he drew out the “thing” from the infant’s body…

This baby was not Fang Simin. Fang Simin had been healthy, only falling gravely ill after being injected with those monstrous substances, nearly dying as a result. But this baby had survived because of the monster clinic. Could he now live without medical intervention, relying on his own organs?

During that moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Zhou had already taken the baby into her arms. Zhou Wangyang stood nearby, pulling their son closer. Mrs. Zhou looked down, smiling with maternal warmth. Zhou Wangyang teased the baby’s cheek and said to his son, “You’ll have to take good care of your little brother from now on.” The teenager’s smile was stiff and awkward as he gently tugged the baby’s hand. “He’s really cute.”

It was the perfect family photo—mother holding the infant, father and son gathered close, all joy and harmony. And the baby at the center grinned widely.

Sheng Yao’s heart skipped. He pressed his fingers more firmly against the baby, but the child remained unresponsive. Sheng Yao felt nothing—no sense that the “thing” was being drawn into his palm. It was as if there’d been no contact at all.

“Oh, he smiled!”

“This is the first time we’ve seen him smile,” the nurse exclaimed.

The doctor chimed in, “He’s a clever little thing—he must know he’s being adopted, and he’s happy.”

The room was filled with delight.

The reporter who’d asked the pointed question hesitated, as Zhou Wangyang’s secretary leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

No one else heard what was said, though Sheng Yao could have, had his attention not been elsewhere.

Sheng Yao’s heart sank.

He saw the substance in the baby’s veins gather at the surface, and in a fleeting instant, it surged into the bodies of the Zhou family.

He had tried to intervene, and the baby’s contact with them had lasted only seconds, but…

Suppressing his thoughts, Sheng Yao turned his hand, reaching out toward the family of three.

There was no longer time to worry about being noticed.

The “thing” moved faster in their bodies than it had in Fang Simin’s. In the brief moment since Sheng Yao’s failure, it had already circulated through all three. Though they looked normal now, who could say what would happen next?

Out of the corner of his eye, Sheng Yao saw the baby staring right at him.

The infant seemed aware of his presence.

Sheng Yao’s sense of dread intensified.

Suddenly, Mrs. Zhou let go.

The baby fell, dropping from Mrs. Zhou’s arms.

Sheng Yao’s pupils contracted as he instinctively reached to catch the infant.

There was a moment’s stunned silence before shouts erupted.

But he failed to catch the baby—Zhou Wangyang and his son had each stepped forward, charging into him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The first two thuds were the pair crashing into Sheng Yao’s invisible body—an unseen obstacle. Still, their steps did not falter.

The third sound was the baby hitting the floor.

Not only the father and son, but Mrs. Zhou too, stepped over the fallen infant.

The room was thrown into chaos, yet the family of three forced their way through the crowd.

Jostled by others, Sheng Yao could only leap upward, clinging again to the ceiling.

Peering over the confusion, he saw the Zhou family had already left the room, hurrying down the corridor in unnatural, frantic strides.

In those moments, the “thing” had already completed its replication and now filled their bodies—not just their veins.

Sheng Yao stared wide-eyed, then turned incredulously toward the nurse who’d picked up the baby from the floor.

The baby giggled—a pure, delighted sound.

Gritting his teeth, Sheng Yao moved after the Zhou family, slithering along the ceiling like a serpent, in pursuit.