Chapter 17: Grandma Wang in the Henhouse at Midnight

Qiu Yiyao’s eyes widened, her heart pounding wildly. “What are you doing?” she asked.

She saw Bai Peiyu’s hand move from her chest upward, stopping at her collarbone, where he picked up a broad noodle. He waved the noodle in front of her. “Miss, you’re not that young anymore. How can you still be dropping noodles while eating? Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

His face was filled with disdain. When he released his grip, the noodle fell straight down between her feet.

Flushed with embarrassment, Qiu Yiyao defended herself, “I… I wasn’t careful. Haven’t you ever dropped rice grains or noodles when you were a kid?”

“You just said ‘when you were a kid.’ Can children compare to adults? Or are you just a little brat wearing an adult’s skin?”

“I…”

Qiu Yiyao was silenced by his retort. Stomping her foot in frustration, she turned and went into the room, closing the door behind her and warning, “Bai, just wait and see if I’ll let you bully me next time. Hmph.”

At dinner, Bai Peiyu did not return. After eating, father and daughter locked the big door early.

Though Qiu Shengming agreed with Bai Peiyu’s reasoning, he was still uneasy, sitting on the sofa watching TV, afraid Xiao Yi might suddenly burst in.

Qiu Yiyao lay on her bed, took out her phone, and stared irritably at the little “x” on the signal bar.

Opening the group chat, the last message was the one she sent the day she found out about her illness, asking if anyone knew a doctor, but no one had responded.

Qiu Yiyao always considered herself socially adept and immensely popular, yet when disaster struck, no one came to comfort her—not even her closest confidantes uttered a word.

“Sigh, life is so unpredictable.”

She put down her phone, closed her eyes, trying hard to forget the unhappy thoughts, and soon fell asleep.

Late at night, strange noises woke Qiu Yiyao—sometimes soft, sometimes loud—“crackling,” like someone chewing on something hard.

She perked up her ears and realized the sounds came from next door.

But that was a small alley, divided into a chicken coop by Granny Wang. The chickens would be asleep at this hour, so who could be making such noises?

Thinking of the mountains surrounding Yueli Town, could it be a wild beast sneaking out to steal chickens while everyone slept?

At the thought, Qiu Yiyao sat up quickly. Not daring to turn on the light and disturb the “beast,” she switched on her phone’s flashlight, cautiously moving toward the window. Holding a corner of the curtain, she gently lifted it.

What she saw outside nearly made her scream for help.

Under the dim light of the chicken coop roof, a figure was bent over inside, holding a motionless old hen in both hands, lowering her head to gnaw at the hen’s belly.

The scene jolted Qiu Yiyao’s nerves. People eating chicken was common, but gnawing on a live hen inside a chicken coop in the dead of night was something she might never see in a lifetime.

And she had just witnessed it.

What was even more terrifying was that as she tried desperately to cover her mouth to stifle a scream, the figure slowly raised her head and gave Qiu Yiyao a sinister smile.

The bloodied mouth parted slowly, uttering a few words: “Want to eat together?”

It was Granny Wang.

Her pale hair was half stained red with chicken blood, fresh crimson flowing down her forehead, mixing with the blood dripping from the corners of her mouth—more real and horrifying than any scary movie she’d seen.

“Ah…”

Qiu Yiyao screamed in terror, trembling violently. She was so frightened she froze on the spot, her mind blank.

Suddenly, the old hen in Granny Wang’s hands shook violently. The drooping neck suddenly straightened, turning slowly to stare at Qiu Yiyao with tiny eyes, as if about to speak.

Qiu Yiyao could no longer control her emotions. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor.

Her heart pounded wildly as if ready to burst from her chest. Leaning against the wall, chills spread through her body, cold as if she was trapped in an ice cellar.

“This must be a dream, it must be,” she whispered, hugging herself and rubbing her arms to keep warm, trying to reassure herself, “I must be hallucinating because of my illness.”

She struggled to calm down, but the voice outside persisted relentlessly, drilling into her ears: “Want to eat together? It’s delicious.”

The voice was hoarse, nothing like Granny Wang’s usual kind and gentle tone.

“No,” Qiu Yiyao said painfully, covering her ears and shaking her head as if that would keep the voice away.

“I’m not afraid. This is just an illusion, only an illusion.”

She closed her eyes, muttering repeatedly, “It’s just an illusion…”

After an unknown amount of time, she drifted into a drowsy sleep.

Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door startled Qiu Yiyao awake. Seeing the room brightly lit and herself lying in bed, she finally relaxed.

Getting up to open the door, Qiu Shengming appeared anxious. “Why did you take so long to open? I almost had Xiao Bai break the door down.”

Bai Peiyu leaned against the wall with a disdainful look. “Uncle Qiu, I told you not to worry about her. She’s probably just sleeping too deeply. What could go wrong?”

His sarcastic tone made Qiu Yiyao roll her eyes. “My dad caring about me isn’t your business. What, no dad of your own, so you want to compete with mine?”

She spoke casually, but Bai Peiyu’s expression changed. He glanced meaningfully at Qiu Shengming. “Uncle Qiu, do you think I have no dad?”

“Pfft, nonsense. Your dad’s fine, isn’t he?”

Qiu Shengming pretended to slap Qiu Yiyao’s mouth. “You’re not a child anymore. How can you talk without restraint?”

Seeing they were taking her seriously, Qiu Yiyao knew she’d said too much. “Alright, alright, my fault. Happy now? Sorry, Mr. Bai.”

She even bowed to Bai Peiyu, but to him, it seemed like provocation.

“Good that you know your mistake. Lucky you ran into me today, or you wouldn’t know why you got beaten.”

Bai Peiyu stopped talking, walked to the table, picked up a bowl of porridge, and began drinking, complimenting, “Uncle Qiu, your chicken porridge is getting better and better.”

Hearing “chicken,” Qiu Yiyao recalled the earlier scene—the bloodied, raw meat-streaked old face, the hen dripping blood—her stomach churned.

“I… I’m not eating. You guys go ahead.”

She turned and rushed inside, quickly shutting the door and leaning against the wall, dry heaving.

Concerned by the noise, Qiu Shengming knocked anxiously. “Yiyao, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Suppressing her nausea, Qiu Yiyao hurried to the table, grabbed a cup of water, and gulped down more than half.

Her empty stomach filled instantly, and she let out a loud burp.

Outside in the alley, Granny Wang was feeding the chickens. Her voice carried through the wall, making the hairs on Qiu Yiyao’s skin stand on end once again.