Chapter 359

Chapter 359

◎Unforgiven Even in Death◎

"My family never cared about me. In that house, I might as well have been invisible. My mother never paid me any attention—her eyes were only on Su Zhe. Su Zhe was her whole world. Sometimes, I just couldn’t understand. I’m her biological son, the one who’ll take care of her in her old age. I don’t oppose her nurturing Su Zhe—his musical talent brings her the glory she craves. But why is it that having me was like never having me at all? Why couldn’t she give me even a scrap of love?"

Even the maids at home—when his mother occasionally gave them leftover or nearly expired tonics like bird’s nest—would save a portion to take back to their own children.

The Ding family paid them well. Could they really not afford a bowl or two of bird’s nest?

Of course they could. But when they had something good, their first thought was always to save it for their own children. Because they loved the children they had brought into this world.

Sometimes Ding Ran envied them. He even fantasized about what it would be like if one of them were his mother. He’d trade being the young master of the Ding family in a heartbeat just to experience the warmth of a loving family.

When he was little, Su Zhe had tried more than once to get close to him. Ding Ran had entertained the thought—maybe without parents, having a decent older brother would suffice. At least there’d be someone to eat with him, to talk to him.

But before Su Zhe could spend much time with him, his mother would show up, shove him aside, yank Su Zhe away, and scold him for being lazy and dragging Su Zhe down with him.

That was his mother—her eyes dripping with disgust.

Occasionally, when his father came home—rare as it was—Ding Ran would think, *So Mom loves Su Zhe—big deal. At least I’ve got Dad.* Yet his father would either dismiss him after a few words, telling him to go play by himself, or ride him about his lousy grades. *Su Zhe practices piano for hours every day and still gets straight A’s. All you have to do is study—no piano, no nothing—so why can’t you improve?*

Why?

Because classmates often asked him if he was really surnamed Ding. *You’re a Ding? Then why do your parents always have someone else’s kid by their side?* Some even asked if he was illegitimate, if his mother was really his birth mother. Others joked that maybe he was swapped at birth—that Su Zhe was the Ding family’s real son.

He grew to despise school, to loathe being compared at every turn. The real kicker was parent-teacher conferences. His mother didn’t even know what grade or class he was in. The only one who ever attended his conferences was the maid.

Thinking back on those memories, Ding Ran could never let go—not even now that he’s dead.

He Long: "So when you came back from the dead, the first person you targeted was Su Zhe?"

Ding Ran laughed—a sound like shattered glass. "Who said he was the first? I gave all of them a chance."

His family had never cared about him—not when he was little, not now. He could disappear for weeks, and no one would notice. Every day spent in that house was torture, so he preferred being outside—sometimes traveling alone, sometimes partying with friends.

Three months ago, he went hiking in Lop Nur to stargaze. The weather turned abruptly, forcing him to descend early. Then, in a moment of carelessness, he slipped and fell down the mountain.

Lop Nur hikes were borderline extreme sports. Even if he’d called for help immediately, rescue would’ve taken forever. With the sudden weather shift, he could’ve frozen to death either way.

He died. Alone, in the wilderness, undiscovered. Even though his phone had auto-alerted authorities, it took search teams two or three days to find him.

How he came back to life, Ding Ran himself didn’t know. One second he was dead; the next, he was gasping awake. His broken body healed instantly, and he gained superhuman strength.

When rescuers found him, he obviously didn’t mention he’d died. He had a pulse, a body temperature—even the hospital scans showed nothing unusual.

From the moment he fell to when he was found, three full days passed. Radio silence from home. The emergency contact his dying phone had dialed—the one that got hung up on—never called back to ask what had happened.

Ding Ran: "Later, I went home. Everything was the same as always. My mother, up to her ears in Su Zhe’s concert prep. My father, never home more than twice a month. I told my mom, *I fell while hiking. I almost died.* Do you know what she said?"

He stared at He Long, who remained silent.

Ding Ran laughed. "She said, *Cut the drama. Your cousin’s concert is coming up. I don’t have time for this.*"

"Theatrics. *Theatrics.* I died, and she wrote it off as *drama.* She thought I was pulling another childhood stunt—hurting myself just to get their attention. Isn’t that hilarious? That was my *mother.*"

Ding Ran: "I called my dad. Before I could speak, he said, *Anything urgent? Talk to my assistant. Don’t waste money. Don’t cause trouble.*"

As the call disconnected, his mother descended the stairs with Su Zhe, murmuring, "Your uncle will be there, and we’ve invited media. This is your first solo concert—no screw-ups." They walked right past him. Neither so much as glanced back.

They were all rotten, including Su Zhe—enjoying the Ding family’s wealth, going from cautious to complacent, acting more like the house’s owner than he ever did.

So he took revenge. On everyone.

He Long had handled countless cases in his career, many far worse than Ding Ran’s. He felt pity and sympathy, but it didn’t soften him—he followed procedure: “Do you remember where the incident happened? Even a rough area is fine.”

Ding Ran asked for his phone back and sent over a few photos. “Around here. You’ll have to search yourselves.”

He Long: “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Ding Ran: “If you remove the worms inside me, will I die immediately?”

He Long nodded. “Yes.”

Ding Ran: “Then have them come collect the body. I want them all here.”

This minor request was well within He Long’s power. If Ding Ran’s parents refused, he could simply have them brought in by force. So he agreed without hesitation: “Fine. I’ll make sure they all come to see you one last time.”

He Long stepped out of the interrogation room and saw Ji Nanxing and Xiao Ye emerging from the adjacent room.

He Long: “I’ll arrange someone to check the scene. *Puppet Gu* has been lost to time—no clue how it turned up in Luobu.”

Ji Nanxing: “I’ve read some old records. A faction of Gu masters broke away, left their homeland, crossed the Lidao River, and settled further north. The Miao Gu lineage crossed the river, and just beyond that lies Luobu.”

Luobu is now overseas territory, no longer part of their country, but thousands of years ago, it had been Han land. Perhaps that branch of Gu masters had survived there.

He Long: “Border paperwork’s a pain. We’ll also need to contact Ding Ran’s parents. Ugh. Bad parents leave a trail of damage.”

Ji Nanxing: “We should probably check his parents too. By the looks of it, he might have targeted them as well.”

He Long nodded. “I’ll make sure they’re thoroughly examined.”

Mr. Ding still didn’t know his son was dead. Mrs. Ding, under immense public pressure, couldn’t sleep at night, afraid to leave the house. With Mr. Ding filing for divorce, she was falling apart at the seams, ranting daily at home—calling Su Zhe a white-eyed wolf and berating Ding Ran, saying he was a waste of a birth.

Mr. Ding stayed uninvolved, only making sure Mrs. Ding knew he was preparing divorce papers. As he’d said before, if she agreed peacefully, she’d get some money—not enough for luxury, but enough to scrape by. If she wanted to fight, he’d sue and reclaim all the money she’d funneled to the Su family over the years.

Every time lawyers came, Mrs. Ding would trash the place. Before, she might have held back, but now the internet had dragged her through the mud. She was being cyberbullied into near-universal hatred. Su Zhe was ruined, her hopes dashed—what else could they take from her? She’d haunt the Dings from the grave; he wouldn’t shake her off.

Even now, Mrs. Ding still had confidence. She had a son. The entire Ding family would be his someday. She refused to believe her son would abandon her. Before, she’d feared angering her husband, but now that they’d torn off the mask, what was there to fear? If the Dings weren’t afraid of shame, she could go all out too.

When Bureau Agents arrived, Mrs. Ding assumed they were yet another of her husband’s lackeys. She glared. “I said I’ll never agree to a divorce! Tell him to give it up!”

The agents flashed their badges. “Come with us. We need family to ID your son’s body.”

Mrs. Ding froze. “What? What body?”

Agent: “Your son, Ding Ran’s body. The family must handle it.”

Mrs. Ding: “What nonsense! He’s out partying like there’s no tomorrow! You scammers dare come to my door?”

The agents moved to escort her. “Refuse again, and we charge you with obstruction.”

Mrs. Ding, terrified, was hauled into the Bureau, where she ran into Mr. Ding, who’d been similarly “invited.”

She grabbed him. “What are they saying? About Ding Ran’s body—what does that mean?!”

Mr. Ding shook her off impatiently. “How should I know?”

They were led upstairs. When the door to a strange room opened, they spotted Ding Ran spinning lazily in a chair. Their faces darkened. “Ding Ran! I knew it was you! What are you playing at? ‘Collect the body’? You think this is funny?”

Ding Ran turned his head, grinning at them with a bone-chilling smile: "You couldn’t even be bothered to come claim my body—had to be dragged here by force. Pathetic. If you hated me so much, why did you even have me?"

Mr. Ding glanced impatiently at his watch: "I don’t have time for your nonsense. You’re too old to be acting this needy. You should know what matters most now!"

Ding Ran: "As if you ever gave me any love when I needed it!"

Mrs. Ding rushed forward and slapped Ding Ran across the face: "The family’s falling apart! How can you still be so immature!"

The moment she finished shouting, her face turned deathly pale. She stared in disbelief at her hand, then at Ding Ran’s face: "You… Ranran, no—what kind of sick joke is this?"

Her voice trembled as she spoke, because her slap had torn open Ding Ran’s face, leaving a chunk of rotting flesh dangling precariously.

Originally, the Gu worms could have sustained Ding Ran for a while longer, but Ji Nanxing had burned most of them away with talisman fire. The few that remained could no longer maintain his vitality, so his skin had begun to deteriorate. A little harder, and his head might’ve come right off.

Ding Ran touched his face, watching his parents’ horrified expressions with delight: "Didn’t I tell you? I asked you to come claim my body. I’m dead. Why won’t you believe me?"

He Long stepped forward, placing himself between Ding Ran and his parents, addressing the couple: "I’m He Long, captain of the second team of the Paranormal Investigations Bureau. This is a special national department handling supernatural incidents that cannot be disclosed to the public. Your son, Ding Ran, fell to his death three months ago while climbing Mount Lop. Afterward, his body was infested with Gu worms. For the past few months, he appeared alive, but in truth, he died three months ago. Due to the unusual nature of his death, we require the family to personally handle the matter and maintain confidentiality. You’ll need to sign an NDA."

Mr. Ding paled as he stared at his son, even shooting a warning glance at He Long before turning back to Ding Ran: "Stop this crap. It’s not funny. Cut the special effects crap—wipe that junk off. Didn’t you want that sports car? I’ll buy it. Come home with me, and I’ll act like none of this ever happened."

Ding Ran stopped spinning in his chair, his eerie smile vanishing. He glared at his parents: "You brought me into this world, then ignored me. My own mother loved someone else’s kid more than me. Mom, Dad—do you have any idea how much I hate you? I was afraid you wouldn’t understand, so I made sure to see you one last time before I died. I wanted to tell you—I hate you. I will never, ever forgive you! If there’s a next life, I’d rather be roadkill than your kid again!"

Mrs. Ding still couldn’t accept what was happening: "Ranran…"

Ding Ran: "Don’t you dare call me that! Your son is Su Zhe. He’ll never be a musician now. Disappointed? Gave up on him? Serves you right! You’ll lose everything—that’s your karma!"

With that, Ding Ran climbed onto the platform, which was inscribed with an array—his own request. He wanted his parents to witness his death, to sear this moment into their minds forever.

The moment he lay down, the Grudge and corpse energy in his body activated the array. Runes flared to life, and green flames ignited instantly.

Mrs. Ding didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew it was something terrible. Without thinking, she threw herself at the platform to pull her son down, only to be held back by the agents.

She grabbed her husband: "Do something! Why are you just standing there?!"

Mr. Ding watched as the flames engulfed Ding Ran, yet his skin and clothes remained unburned. But the once-normal complexion darkened in the green fire, his once-supple flesh collapsing, covered in bruises and wounds.

He Long explained: "He fell to his death. Now that we’ve purged the Gu worms from his body, it’s reverting to its state at death. Also, Su Zhe didn’t harm anyone—what happened that day was caused by Ding Ran manipulating him through the Gu worms. Once this is over, we’ll have the police release him. You can’t take the body either. Gu worm infestations require special cremation. Return in a few days to collect his ashes."

Mrs. Ding refused to accept this reality, struggling to break free: "No! He was alive! He was fine! I don’t believe you! This is a lie—all of it!"

Mr. Ding, too, couldn’t believe it. He wished this was just another one of his son’s cruel pranks. But deep down, he knew—this was real. His son had died three months ago.

He couldn’t accept it either. He’d been disappointed that Ding Ran wasn’t as outstanding as other children, but he’d never given up. He’d figured Ding Ran could screw around a few more years—boys matured later, after all. Once Ding Ran settled down, he’d take him under his wing and teach him how to manage the company.

But now… there was nothing left.

The last of the Gu worms burned away. Without the Grudge and resentment controlling them, they were easy to deal with.

Ding Ran’s corpse reverted to its original state—a gaping wound in his chest, likely pierced during the fall, limbs fractured in multiple places. As the last of the Gu worms were purged, the body began to decompose at a visible rate.

Agents quickly shrouded the body in a talisman-inscribed yellow cloth and sent it to the crematorium.

Mrs. Ding collapsed onto the gurney, wailing. He Long cut in flatly: "Three months ago, while you were busy organizing Su Zhe’s concert, you hung up on one of Ding Ran’s calls. That was the last call he ever made."

Drowning in guilt and grief, she remembered—that night, she’d been discussing guest arrangements for the concert when Ding Ran called. She’d hung up without a second thought.

Had that really been her son’s final call?

Ding Ran’s body was cremated, his soul laid to rest. His parents were taken for examination, where Gu worms were indeed found in their bodies. Though these worms didn’t feed on blood or qi, they’d already ravaged their organs beyond repair.

The moment the Gu worms were cleared from their bodies, exhaustion and heaviness immediately set in. Mr. Ding promptly booked a hospital check-up, while Mrs. Ding was so distraught she seemed dazed—she couldn’t believe her son had hated her so much, enough to want to kill her.

Su Zhe was released only to learn then that Ding Ran had died in an accident long before. Already burdened with guilt and holding little resentment toward Ding Ran, Su Zhe found it hard to accept his death.

At Ding Ran’s funeral, Ding Ran’s aunt berated Su Zhe, blaming him for all the misfortunes that had befallen the Ding family. Su Zhe didn’t defend himself—it was pointless now. He didn’t want to cause a scene at Ding Ran’s funeral. After it was over, he would wash his hands of this place for good, cutting all ties forever.

Mrs. Ji attended Ding Ran’s funeral—after all, she had known Mrs. Ding for many years. Though their families had no business ties, they occasionally made small talk at the occasional business gathering.

Ji Nanxing accompanied his mother. Seeing the Ding couple, Mrs. Ji whispered to her son, “They only realize regret after losing him. They’ve aged terribly—this has to be real heartbreak.”

Ji Nanxing replied, “Whether they’re grieving or not, their rapid aging is from the irreversible harm caused by the Gu worms. They’ve entered premature decline. No amount of money or care can reverse it.”

Mrs. Ji asked curiously, “Will they have more children?”

“Mrs. Ding was past childbearing age—probably even menopausal,” Ji Nanxing answered. “But a man could still father children—with a younger woman or through IVF.”

Ji Nanxing shook his head. “Not them. Their family line ends with them.”

This was Ding Ran’s revenge on his father. His father always said he had only one son, Ding Ran, and that everything in the Ding family would one day be his—that all his work was for Ding Ran’s future.

So Ding Ran made sure his father truly had no other heirs, making his father’s ‘only son’ claim a grim reality.

Ji Nanxing figured it was for the best. People unfit to be parents would probably just repeat the cycle if given another chance.