Chapter 72: The Painted Skin Lacks Bones

On the stairway in the living room, someone was slowly making their way down. Li Changluo glanced over and was somewhat surprised, because he recognized this person.

A boy with short pink hair—the boy from the taxi, who had spoken about rushing to the funeral of his seventy-six-year-old boyfriend.

Why was he here?
Shouldn’t he be...
At the crematorium?

The pink-haired boy moved with mechanical motions, thumping down the wooden stairs. His gaze was vacant, and without sparing a glance towards Li Changluo and Young Master Long Qi in the room, he headed straight for another room off the living area.

Bang!

He slammed the door shut behind him.

Young Master Long Qi paid no mind to the scene, still engrossed in “admiring” the bloody, ancient paintings on the wall, his expression complicated.

Li Changluo glanced around, then carefully tiptoed over to the room the pink-haired boy had entered. He gently pushed the door open, wanting to peek inside.

It wasn’t that Li Changluo was particularly curious—he was simply, well... a voyeur.

The room was dim. Li Changluo peered through the crack, straining to see, but the darkness made it difficult. However, he could vaguely make out a silhouette undressing in the gloom—it must have been the pink-haired boy.

But...

His movements were exaggerated, leaping and twisting about, hands everywhere—this shadow seemed almost excited.

Could someone really get this worked up undressing alone?

Li Changluo found it amusing.

Suddenly, the figure inside stopped and began fumbling on the wall with both hands. When the room’s light clicked on, Li Changluo realized the boy had simply been searching for the switch.

A wooden ceiling lamp flickered to life, casting a dull yellow glow. Li Changluo’s jaw dropped; he was utterly stunned.

A man seeing another man naked was, frankly, nothing unusual in college. Freshmen sharing a dorm would all, more or less, end up showering together in the communal baths. The reason? Simply put—whoever was bigger called the shots.

I’m bigger, so I run the dorm from now on.

Put aside all those other motives—this was just animal instinct, a law of nature.

But Li Changluo’s mouth wasn’t agape out of shock or awe.

In the dim room, the pink-haired boy was not just undressing—he was peeling off his own skin. And underneath? There was nothing at all.

The discarded skin, limp and empty, flicked on the light itself, then wobbled across the room to a wooden cabinet, where it neatly folded itself up and settled inside.

A painted skin? For crying out loud...

Don’t let your legs go weak, don’t you dare—after all, I’m a monster too. Who’s afraid of whom?

But as Li Changluo finally took a proper look around the room, his composure vanished. His attention had been fixed on the pink-haired boy, but now he saw—

The room was filled, everywhere, with hanging skins—men’s, women’s, all kinds and shapes.

A ghastly sight.

“What did you see, young man?”

A voice snapped Li Changluo’s soul right back into his body. He shrieked and leapt up in fright. Turning, he saw the old man watching him, smiling ambiguously.

“Haha, I... um, I needed to use the bathroom.”

Li Changluo was so terrified he was babbling, his mind a mess.

“This is a private room,” the old man leaned in and whispered, “you shouldn’t wander. There are unclean things in here.”

A polite threat, but a threat nonetheless.

“What’s wrong with your head?” Li Changluo stared, open-mouthed. He wanted to say, surely the filthiest thing in this house is you.

Because, during their exchange, the old man’s head had changed—it had become a wrinkled, black, featureless mass.

“Oh, nothing,” the old man replied, quickly pressing his blackened head back into shape with his hand, regaining his refined, goateed appearance. “Just twisted my neck a bit, perhaps I slept funny last night.”

Sleeping funny, my foot. You just shoved your own head down inside your neck. I saw it clearly.

What a sly old devil—he’s learned to lie.

I ought to expose you.

With a look of solemn justice, Li Changluo said, “Sir, you must cover yourself well when you sleep, or you’ll catch a chill and wake with a stiff neck.”

“At your age, a stiff neck can lead to kidney trouble. Yes, kidney trouble, ha ha ha...”

But before he could finish, he noticed the old man was now pointing a pistol at him.

He cowered.

Ah, how good it feels to cower—self-preservation above all.

But... I’m a monster, am I really afraid of a gun?

It’s like pointing a kitchen knife at a ghost in the middle of the night and saying, “Don’t move, or I’ll hack you.” As if the ghost would really raise its hands and surrender.

Humans, please. Put down your cleaver—I’m terrified.

It’s absurd, but Li Changluo was a practical man. Why risk a showdown with this old man, testing whether the bullets or his own monster hide was tougher? Not worth it.

To put it plainly... I’m just afraid of dying.

So Li Changluo obediently returned to the living room and sat down on a stool.

“I’ve made tea for you both; please enjoy,” the old man said with his usual politeness, gesturing at a teapot on the table.

Li Changluo respectfully picked up the pot and poured tea into the cup before him. The tea splashed in, steaming hot.

He cradled the cup but didn’t drink, gazing dumbly at the old man.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” the old man asked, puzzled.

For heaven’s sake, if you’re going to poison someone, at least make an effort—the tea was an unnaturally oily green, anyone could tell something was off.

“May I share a toast with you?” Li Changluo asked with a shameless grin.

“It doesn’t taste good alone?” the old man chuckled.

“Oh, this wretched tea—it’s as dreadful as the coffee Aunt Sophia used to make. I swear to God, it’s the worst. If my uncle Ergou were here, I’d bet he’d smack your backside with his Liberation-brand rubber shoe. Oh, why shouldn’t I drink? No, I really just want to get out of this damned place as soon as possible.”

Li Changluo suddenly launched into a string of nonsensical declarations, then clapped a hand over his mouth in disbelief.

Am I losing my mind?