Chapter 17: The Pitch-Black Giant Python

Qi Ran didn’t move a muscle. She was no obedient lamb. She merely pretended to be terrified, keeping her hands raised high and standing her ground, as if she hadn’t understood his hint.

The lanky man in the trench coat seemed to wait for a moment. Seeing her still rooted to the spot, he impatiently pulled the suitcase in front of him. It seemed to be shaking more violently now. A trickle of crimson seeped from beneath it, pooling into a small puddle.

He made a gesture. The meaning was likely that if she didn’t come over, he would silence her companion inside the suitcase.

Qi Ran grew even calmer. This time, she simply lowered her raised hands.

A fact became increasingly clear to her: Jiang Zhique couldn’t possibly be in that suitcase. The tall man in the trench coat was bluffing, trying to lure her onto the street. Besides the two of them, a third party was present. And that third party was the one to be most wary of. It wasn’t only capable of disarming Jiang Zhique in an instant, but also made the trenchcoat man wary of attacking her directly.

Was it a Ghost? An invisible Ghost on the street?

She looked at the wide, empty street before her. The dim, yellow streetlights of the evening shone peacefully upon it. It seemed completely empty.

“The foolish girl does have a little bit of cleverness,” Miss Ah Qiao commented idly, drifting in mid-air and clicking her tongue in wonder. “How interesting. Who knew I’d still have so many suitors? I suppose my charm hasn’t faded.”

Qi Ran didn’t respond with any quip. Facing an invisible ghost, for an ordinary student like her, the fear of the unknown was almost suffocating. Only now did she realize that ghosts in horror movies felt completely different from encountering one in reality.

Everything around her now seemed like a hidden threat. The rustle of lush weeds and fallen leaves by the roadside, stirred by a breeze, sounded like footsteps. The dappled moonlight filtering through the clouds onto the asphalt appeared as human-shaped shadows in her peripheral vision. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

“Qi Ran.”

She suddenly heard Jiang Zhique’s voice. A cold breath touched her shoulder.

She didn’t turn her head. She just stared straight ahead at the trenchcoat man, her movements slightly stiff. She saw a clear look of pity in the man’s eyes. The suitcase, which had been part of the act, stopped shaking and sat perfectly still. This made her feel even more like she was sinking into an icy abyss.

Of course she wouldn’t look back. Liu Xu had once told her a story, a rural superstition. A butcher was walking down a mountain alone at night when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He didn’t look back. When he reached the bottom, he broke out in a cold sweat, because no one could possibly have been on that path in the dead of night to tap his shoulder. What had tapped him was a hungry wolf. It had stood on its hind legs and rested its paws on his shoulders. The moment he turned his head, the wolf would have torn out his throat.

“Qi Ran.”

Jiang Zhique’s voice repeated. Qi Ran listened carefully and remained motionless. The voice sounded very much like Jiang Zhique, but the pronunciation was strange, like a parrot mimicking human speech, not a sound a human could naturally make.

The standoff lasted for some time. Perhaps it wasn’t long, but to Qi Ran, it felt like an eternity. She didn’t understand why the thing was so patient, why it was so fixated on making her turn her head.

Finally, she gritted her teeth. Waiting for death had never been an option she’d choose. Taking a deep breath, she threw herself forward into a roll. Springing up, she spun around to look.

It was a gigantic snake. No, perhaps ‘python’ was a better description. It was coiled in the spot where she’d been standing. The weak, yellow streetlight filtering through the leaves illuminated its massive, ink-black body, its muscles shifting and sliding under the light. Its head was huge and broad, its vertical pupils cold and chilling, clearly reflecting her terror. The hard, scale-like, deep-black plating rippled open towards the head like a tide. Qi Ran stood completely still. The distance she’d rolled was laughably insignificant in front of such a terrifyingly large python.

Her face was pale. Had this Pitch-Black Giant Python been the thing whispering in her ear?

Her question was soon answered. Once the deep-black scales had finished their full ripple, she saw clearly as the giant python opened its mouth again. From that vast, broad head came the strangely pronounced word: “Qi Ran.”

“Qi Ran,” it mimicked again, like a parrot.

“…Hello.”

The words just slipped out of her mouth.

Drifting in the air, Miss Ah Qiao clapped with profound respect. “Nerves of steel. A truly magnificent character.”

Qi Ran stood frozen, mortified. She had no idea why her brain had short-circuited and spat out such a crazy remark at such an inappropriate moment. Heaven knows, she didn’t have nerves of steel. Her legs were shaking like sieves under that cold, vertical gaze. But it was just her nature. The more terrified she was, the less she could control her mouth. As Liu Xu put it, she’d have been a disaster as an official in ancient times. Her entire nine familial generations would have been doomed. Imagine the emperor, furious, with the entire court silent in fear, and Qi Ran suddenly cracking a joke. The outcome didn’t need to be imagined.

But the Pitch-Black Giant Python didn’t open its blood-drenched maw as she’d expected. Its eyes just lit up — Qi Ran swore she saw the python’s vertical pupils actually brighten. It slowly slithered towards her, its long, thick, and massive body crushing the vegetation into mud as it passed.

It stopped before her and did something completely unexpected. It lowered its enormous head slightly. Qi Ran paused, realizing the height was very convenient for her to reach out and touch its crown.

Suppressing her fear, she reached out and placed her hand on the massive, pitch-black head. The size difference was so vast, she felt like she was touching a small car, one that could swallow her in a single gulp. She gently stroked the smooth scales on top of its broad head. A slight coolness transmitted through her fingertips, making her want to shiver. The scales felt smooth and tough, seamlessly interlocked into a single whole. Her fingertips could clearly feel the fine grain. A faint, natural fragrance emanated from it, like a blend of soil and fallen leaves. It gave her a strange sense of familiarity, as if… as if she had once been deeply familiar with this scent. The fearsome python lowered its huge head docilely. Despite its cold temperature, Qi Ran could feel its silent dependence.

But why? In her memory, she had never seen such a massive, pitch-black python.

“Good child,” she murmured, her technique more akin to petting a cat or a dog.

The expression of the trenchcoat man on the other side of the street was as if he’d seen a ghost. He quickly made a decision, picked up the handle of his suitcase, turned, and left. Qi Ran didn’t spare him a single glance, focusing entirely on stroking the massive python before her. After a while, the python finally raised its head again. Its cold, vertical pupils gazed at her for a moment. This time, Qi Ran saw no chill in them, only what felt like a deep sense of reluctance.

It melted into the shadows beneath the trees. Then, in the spot under the tree, Jiang Zhique appeared, lying quietly. On her slender, pale neck was a long, narrow tear wound, already fully healed and scarred over. Staring at her, Qi Ran could imagine what had happened. The python must have been her tattoo. The trenchcoat man had attacked her, but the attack had released the giant python. The relationship between Jiang Zhique and that python seemed similar to hers with Miss Ah Qiao, but not quite the same.

When Jiang Zhique was attacked, the pitch-black python could emerge to save her. If Qi Ran were attacked, Miss Ah Qiao would simply die right along with her. She glared at the lazy figure floating mid-air. Miss Ah Qiao, looking rather embarrassed that she’d been nothing more than a spectator, awkwardly averted her gaze.