VAP - Chapter 179
Chapter 179: The Ruler in the Endless Deep Darkness (12)
The break was only twenty-four hours long. Yue Du took the opportunity to master the spell, Deep Darkness Gaze, and then took out the black jade dagger, now renamed Deep Darkness Judgment, to examine it.
She had used this very dagger to kill Xiao Wang. Before that, a cultist of an Evil God had died by her fire axe. While it was still uncertain whether the cultist was an NPC, Xiao Wang had undoubtedly been a real person.
Yue Du took a deep breath and put the dagger away, her heart feeling calm.
Ah Jiu remained in Yue Du's mental space in her human form. With the space's owner absent, she didn't need to take on the guise of a long-haired cat. Instead, she lounged lazily on the sofa, lost in her own calculations.
Before hacking into the game, Ah Jiu hadn't known that Greed's game would involve multiple players participating at once. But now that she did, how could she tolerate Yue Du having to team up and live with other players from now on?
So, she sent a private message to The One.
The One, who regrettably possessed no combat prowess despite being the Creator God, was currently letting its consciousness drift between worlds like a dead fish.
Every time it revived in one of its avatars, it was killed by Ah Jiu. After dozens of repetitions, it had given up struggling and decided to lie low for a while before attempting another revival. The only problem was that during this time, it couldn't perform its duties of creation and supervision. For a workaholic, a vacation was pure torture.
Hearing Ah Jiu's private message, The One was instantly on alert. “What is it?”
Ah Jiu said, “Make me a body. A durable one.”
The One asked hopefully, “If I do, will you stop killing me?”
“No. I said I'd kill you several hundred times, and I meant it.”
“…” Then why should I make one for you?
“Yes or no. One word.”
“Just find a vessel to use. I'll permit you to use my creations.”
“The bodies of ordinary beings are too weak; they'd disintegrate on the spot before long. I'd rather not frighten my dear.” Ah Jiu paused, then added a calm threat. “However… the bodies of the so-called deities in this world should be able to handle it. You know, the fire bird, the skeleton, the time wheel… Since you have no objection, I'll just—”
The One: “…”
It suddenly grew tense, its speech doubling in speed. “Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to cultivate beings of that level? You don't know, and you don't care. All you think about is your little world consciousness. Fine! Don't touch those children. It's just a vessel, isn't it? I'll make it!”
Ah Jiu said leisurely, “Wouldn't it have been easier if you'd just agreed from the start?”
Helpless, The One began to slowly construct a lifeless body in the void, but Ah Jiu was still being picky.
“Don't model it after my appearance. Make it beautiful by human standards.”
“Make her look younger. It's best if she seems approachable.”
“Make her taller.”
Forced to moonlight as a character designer, the Creator God swallowed its pride and created the body of a tall, beautiful human girl according to the specifications. “It will last at least a century, quality guaranteed,” it said listlessly. “I don't have a body right now, so I can't deliver it. You'll have to come get it yourself.”
A faint light flashed, and the newly created human body vanished. Ah Jiu's casual voice rang out. “One last piece of advice. Instead of hiding like this, you might as well come out and let me kill you to my heart's content. That way, you can get back to work sooner, right?”
The One: “…” Get lost.
Thus, when Yue Du's break ended and she was transported to the new instance, she opened her eyes to find a fair-skinned, radiant young woman.
She looked to be of school age, her dark eyes brimming with a smile that easily inspired goodwill.
Yue Du remained impassive, feigning a casual air as she first surveyed her surroundings.
They were in a spacious, antique-style room. Wooden desks and low stools were arranged neatly inside. An empty space at the very front was occupied by a grandmaster's chair. Ink wash paintings and calligraphy hung on three of the walls, while the front wall was carved with the vermilion outline of a bird, next to which was a long passage written in brush calligraphy.
It looked like a classroom in a mock-ancient academy—a rather incongruous imitation.
Yue Du and the young woman before her were seated at adjacent desks, one behind the other. Both wore identical red-and-black Tang suits with frog buttons, a style that was neither ancient nor modern but matched the classroom's decor quite well.
Yue Du intended to wait for the other person to speak first, but the girl spread her arms and pulled her into an intimate hug.
Yue Du: “…”
The other person hugged her and didn't let go, asking with a grin, “Guess who I am?”
“Ah Jiu,” Yue Du recognized the voice instantly; it was too unique. “Aren't you a cat?”
“A system isn't a cat; it's just a different manifestation. If you prefer the cat…”
“Meow.” Ah Jiu let out a cheerful and realistic meow.
Yue Du choked, nearly blurting out, “Change back.”
It was a bit surreal, but since even deities were real, a system changing from a cat into a person and appearing in reality didn't seem all that strange.
Yue Du's attitude toward her system was no longer as guarded as it had been at the start of the last instance. She studied Ah Jiu's face carefully before looking away.
She couldn't shake the feeling that something was a little… off.
When the two of them walked out of the classroom, they saw several men and women in the same Tang suits talking in the hallway. Among them were a burly man with bulging muscles and a middle-aged woman with an old-fashioned perm. None of them looked like students.
They quieted down upon seeing Yue Du and Ah Jiu. The burly man scratched his head and asked tentatively, “Are you two players, too?”
Yue Du replied, “Yes.”
“Oh, perfect. We were probably just waiting on you two,” the burly man said, relaxing. “We were just discussing the instance.”
Yue Du asked, “Are there any clues yet?”
“Not really clues, but all our phones are gone. My cousin even had her laptop with her, and that's gone too.” The burly man gestured with his chin toward a sharp-looking woman with a buzz cut and honey-colored skin.
Another slender young man with a small ponytail chimed in. “Without our phones, we can't see the app messages. We're completely in the dark. The only thing we can be sure of is that this place is probably related to the deity who controls fire and heat.”
The Undying Flame, the Red Copper Bird of blaze and heat.
Yue Du also realized her phone was gone, but she had her system as a portable accessory, and it could function as the app.
Sure enough, Ah Jiu quickly informed her via her consciousness, “The hint for this instance is just two words: Stay alive.”
Yue Du's heart tightened. “Is that the only hint?”
Ah Jiu replied, “Yes, but there's also some scattered information. This is a private school called Duming Academy. It specializes in taking in orphans and delinquent youths. It's quite famous in the area, and some parents send their disobedient children here.”
Recalling the crimson bird outline carved on the classroom wall, Yue Du frowned. “Duming… Are the academy's higher-ups followers of the Red Copper Bird?”
“In fact, all of them are.” Ah Jiu coughed lightly. “There's also some bad news. As you know, each instance is usually dominated by the power of a single deity, but this one is special. It was created jointly by the Undying Flame and the God of All Undead. So…”
Just then, melodious music filled the academy—an ensemble of xiao, zheng, and pipa. If one listened closely, they could hear indistinct, rustling whispers mixed within.
Almost at the instant the music began, the deathly silent academy seemed to “come alive.” To their horror, the players discovered that the previously empty classrooms were now nearly full of students. They were chatting, laughing, and reciting from their books, just like ordinary students.
So, this was going to be a supernatural horror instance.
Yue Du took a deep breath, sensing the game's malice.
The young man with the ponytail glanced at his watch. “It's 7:55 in the morning. Was that music the bell for class?”
The students were all in their classrooms as soon as the bell rang. That part was reasonable. The problem was the unreasonable way they had appeared.
The players exchanged glances, each lost in their own thoughts, when a girl's voice suddenly came from behind. “The warning bell rang. Why are you all still standing in the hallway?”
It was a girl in the academy uniform. She had dark circles under her eyes and a thin frame, and the Tang suit hung loosely on her. Her expression was tinged with annoyance. She didn't even bat an eye at the burly man and the middle-aged woman who clearly weren't students. Instead, she asked impatiently, “I don't think I've seen you before. New here?”
“We just transferred here,” Yue Du said, playing along. “We've never attended such a formal academy before, so we don't know the rules.”
The girl's expression relaxed slightly. “If you don't know the rules, I'll let it slide this time. Just get to class.”
The players all seemed to have been assigned the role of new transfer students. Each had a class tag pinned to their chest—Ah Jiu included—and they were split into different classes in groups of two and three.
Yue Du and Ah Jiu were assigned to Weiyue Class. The girl glanced at their tags and said, “You're in my class. Come with me.”
So they returned to the classroom where they had first entered the instance. The moment they walked in, the students stopped chatting and reciting, turning to stare at them in unison with blank faces. The sight was quite startling.
And nearly all of these students had dark circles under their eyes and gaunt figures.
The girl announced, “These are the new students in our class. They don't know the rules yet, so if you see them struggling with anything, give them a reminder.”
A student asked, “Class monitor, why did the new students transfer here?”
The class monitor replied, “Ask them.”
Yue Du lowered her eyes and said dejectedly, “My dad doesn't like me playing video games, so he sent me here.”
Ah Jiu added, “To be honest, we frequent the same internet cafe.”
The students exchanged subtle glances and said no more.
Just then, the official bell for class rang. The class monitor hastily grabbed two books and shoved them at Yue Du. “Here, the textbooks for this class. Now hurry and find an empty seat. The teacher's coming. And remember, do whatever the teacher says. Our academy isn't as lax as things are on the outside.”
Just as they sat down, an old man in a long gown ambled into the classroom. The dark circles around his eyes were even more pronounced than the students'. He had a long, graying beard and held a scroll, looking every bit the part of an ancient scholar.
“Ahem, my dear students, you are all so full of vigor today. This old teacher is most gratified,” he said. He spoke with an accent, his voice low and somewhat mumbled, making him difficult to understand without careful listening.
Just yesterday, she was eating Western food on a cruise ship, and today she had to listen to a pedantic lecture from an old-fashioned teacher. The contrast was certainly something, Yue Du thought with a sigh.
“Have you all memorized the passage I assigned yesterday?”
The students replied in unison, “We have!”
“Good. I shall now test the fruits of your labor. Let's begin with the female student in the last row.”
He pointed across the room at Yue Du.
“Sir,” the class monitor stood up and said, “she and the student in front of her just transferred today. They don't know the lesson content.”
“I see. In that case, never mind. You can recite it. Set a good example for the others.”
The class monitor nodded and immediately began reciting in a loud voice.
Yue Du glanced at a nearby student's textbook, flipped to the correct page, and as she listened, her expression grew uneasy.
The first half matched the “textbook”—records of the ancient appearances of the Undying Flame, the Red Copper Bird. It had once taken the form of a giant crimson eagle, its wings fanning a scorching gale that destroyed a dynasty. Out of boredom, it had once flicked a spark of fire that incinerated the race occupying Earth before the rise of human civilization. It had even devoured the sun, transforming into a star larger and brighter than the original to rotate in its place, casting down light and heat.
As she continued, the class monitor's voice grew more agitated, strange, and off-key. Each sentence was more fervent than the last, gradually ceasing to sound like Chinese, or any human language at all. She took a small knife from her pencil case and began cutting the back of her hand, again and again, mumbling incomprehensibly, “With red, with warmth, I offer to the Lord of Fire, the Red Copper Bird that incinerates all things… Cast me into the inferno, to prove my devotion…”
Yue Du's expression froze for a moment before turning grave.
Sure enough, the old man in the grandmaster's chair slapped the armrests excitedly, exclaiming, “See? How well the class monitor recites! You must all learn from her. Recite properly, with feeling! Do you understand?”
That's putting a little too much feeling into it, isn't it? Yue Du thought.
After that, without any prompting from the old man, the students stood up one by one to “recite.” They grew equally frantic in their chanting, each ending by cutting their arm a few times to draw blood, as if to prove their faith.
The scene was chilling, but the old man cheered them on, the dark circles under his eyes only accentuating how bloodshot they were.
No wonder this place only accepted orphans and troubled youths with strained family relationships. With classes like these, they wouldn't dare take in any child who had people looking out for them.
This Duming Academy was nothing but a breeding ground for the cultists of an Evil God!
However, not all the students were so fanatical. One student near the back stood up and recited his part convincingly enough, but a closer look revealed that his eyes lacked the terrifying fervor of the others. When he cut the back of his hand, he couldn't hide his look of revulsion.
The old man, who had been stroking his beard with a smile, saw this, and his expression hardened. “Li Wei, you again. You never learn. How long will you remain so obstinate? The usual punishment, then. Go to the disciplinary room at noon!”
The student named Li Wei gave him a lifeless look before sitting back down.
Only after everyone had recited did the old man begin his lecture. It was less a lecture and more a brainwashing session, as if he wanted to pour faith directly into their minds. Judging by the unblinking stares of the class monitor and the others, he had certainly succeeded.
As the seconds ticked by, the class felt endlessly long.
When the bell rang, the old man closed his book, seemingly reluctant for the class to end. He turned his gaze back to Yue Du and Ah Jiu and said flatly, “Today's recitation material has been marked. You two will study with the class monitor and memorize it. Tomorrow morning, I will be testing you first. Understood?”
Yue Du shifted her stiff back and forced a smile. “Understood.”
The old man nodded in satisfaction and left.
Yue Du wanted to use the break to find the other players for a quick discussion. Ah Jiu, reading her expression, asked softly, “Are you feeling unwell?”
“I'm fine. It's just… this instance feels so oppressive.”
“Hey, wait.” Before they could leave the room, the class monitor stopped them. “Let me show you the layout of this floor first.”
She walked toward Yue Du, the frenzy from her recitation completely gone. She looked every bit the part of a kind class monitor, eager to help the new students.
“Weiyue Class is the academy's top class. Being assigned here means Mr. Geng sees great potential in you. Please don't disappoint him.”
“Mr. Geng is… Mr. Geng. He's also the headmaster of the academy, a guide and a beacon for all students.”
“This is the meditation room. We'll be coming here this afternoon.”
“This is the disciplinary room. Transfer students like you often disobey the teachers and require strict discipline. All disobedient students must enter the disciplinary room. It's very effective; many newcomers learn the rules after just one visit.”
“I don't know what it's like inside. As an honor student, I've never been punished.”
“Of course. Even among the brothers and sisters who have lived in the academy since childhood, none perform better than I do. Mr. Geng likes me best!”
The break between classes was a full fifteen minutes—or a “quarter-hour,” as they called it here—which was more than enough time for Yue Du to coax information out of the class monitor.
The class monitor was one of the orphans raised by the academy. Having never received a normal education, her mindset was more devout than a true believer's. After all, it was far easier to dye a blank sheet of paper red than one already covered in other colors.
As she spoke, the class monitor unconsciously raised a hand to tuck her hair back. Yue Du glimpsed the back of her hand—the one she had cut with the knife earlier. It was perfectly clear, without a trace of blood, let alone a wound.
Along the way, they ran into the other players, each accompanied by a student in uniform with dark circles under their eyes, also presumably “getting familiar with the environment.”
The next two classes were much the same—either brainwashing or praising the Undying Flame, the Red Copper Bird, in various ways, which amounted to the same thing.
On the surface, there seemed to be no danger, but there were always details that were terrifying upon reflection. An undercurrent of dread lurked beneath the calm. The players felt like every day was a year, and they barely managed to endure until noon.
As soon as the bell rang, Yue Du saw Li Wei, the student from the back row, stand up and walk out of the classroom with a blank expression. He was the one the old man had ordered to the disciplinary room.
Yue Du's feet shifted, and she thought about following him, but a quiet voice asked, “What are you looking at?”
The class monitor had appeared behind her at some point. Her pupils were dilated, her face expressionless.
Yue Du replied calmly, “I was just wondering where the cafeteria is. It's been a long morning, and I'm a little hungry.”
The class monitor paused for a second, seemingly accepting her explanation. “The cafeteria. Right, it's time to eat. Wait a moment.”
Yue Du had expected the class monitor to act as their guide again, but she seemed to have other business and delegated the task of taking the new students to the cafeteria to another girl from the class.
This girl wasn't as watchful as the class monitor. She led the two to the cafeteria, pointed toward the dormitories, and then ran off to find her friends.
The two met up with the other players who had managed to slip away in the cafeteria.
There were ten players in total this time. Except for one unlucky girl who couldn't shake her guide, everyone else was gathered at a few adjacent tables in a corner of the cafeteria. They kept their eyes on their food trays as they talked, looking like spies making a clandestine exchange for fear of being noticed by the academy's abnormal students.
The young man with the ponytail said, “This academy is a place where followers of the Red Copper Bird cultivate new believers. Everyone's figured that out, right?”
“Our morning classes were probably all the same—recitation. It seems to me that most of the students here have been assimilated. A few of the newer ones seem to still have their own minds, but they're just putting on an act. I plan to talk to them this afternoon.”
“Don't even talk about that recitation. I have trouble remembering a few sentences, let alone two whole pages. I just hope we find out the mission soon so we can finish it and leave.” The burly man grumbled, chewing on a vegetable leaf. “Why do we have to memorize texts in a game?”
Hearing this, his buzz-cut cousin stomped hard on his foot under the table. “Everyone else is worried about how to act the part during the recitation, and you're worried you can't memorize the text?” she fumed. “Tonight, I'm watching you study. You're not sleeping until you have it down!”
The burly man winced in pain. “Sis, you're my own flesh and blood, stop stepping on me! It hurts!”
“If only we could find our phones. We really need to know what the mission is,” the young man with the ponytail sighed. “I tried asking my class monitor this morning, but he just lectured me about how I shouldn't be thinking about phones at the academy.”
Yue Du said, “The phones are in the disciplinary room.”
“How do you know?”
“I told the class monitor I wanted to learn the rules and asked if there was a student handbook. She gave me a sheet of paper. One of the rules on it states that the academy prohibits electronic devices, and that all phones and computers must be handed over to the head of the disciplinary room upon enrollment.”
One player asked anxiously, “What do we do? Should we go steal them back?”
“No need. Transfer students are allowed to have their phones back for ten minutes each week to check in with their families, but the class monitor will be watching.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. As long as they could get their phones and learn the mission objective, they would feel much more at ease.
The girl sitting to the right of the young man with the ponytail guessed, “Maybe the mission is to escape the academy.”
“Mm, that's highly likely.”
With her system having already given her spoilers, Yue Du kept quiet, lowered her eyes, and picked at her food.
This mission was both simple and troublesome. It sounded simple but would be difficult to execute. It only said to stay alive, without specifying for how long. They had no clue about the instance's hidden dangers. And thinking about the ghosts and ghouls represented by the God of All Undead… Yue Du shuddered and silently recited the core socialist values to herself.
With heavy hearts, the group finished their tasteless meal and headed to the dormitories together.
The dormitories were separated by gender. As students, the players had to stay in their assigned rooms and beds; they couldn't mix or switch, which forcibly broke up their original teams and made several of them frown.
Yue Du and Ah Jiu were assigned to beds one and two in Room 9 on the fourth floor. It was a four-person room that continued the classroom's bizarre mix of ancient and modern styles. The bunk beds were draped with bright red gauze curtains, and a water dispenser stood beside a black wooden desk.
Fortunately, their other two roommates were also players. One was the burly man's cousin, the woman with the buzz cut and honey-colored skin.
Ah Jiu took the top bunk. She lifted the red curtain, then turned to Yue Du, her eyes sparkling. “Look. Doesn't this color remind you of a wedding canopy?”
Yue Du rubbed her temples, looking away to make her bed while searching the room for any traces or potential clues.
Ah Jiu continued to muse aloud, “It's a shame they're bunk beds. A double bed would have been nice.”
Just standing there, she was impossible to ignore—not just because of her beautiful face, but because of a special aura about her…
Yue Du appeared impassive as she went about her task, but her mind had begun to wander. Amid the chaos of her thoughts, that strange feeling surfaced again, inexplicably. She hid it well.
Suddenly, her fingers froze.
The bedboard before her was covered in messy, bright red writing—all fragmented sentences.
Save me.
I want to go home.
What is that, what is it.
Ahhhhhhhhhh!
But all these words had been crossed out with diagonal lines. Near the foot of the bed, a sentence was carved in the same handwriting: “To the Undying Fire Lord, a sacrifice of blood, an offering of crimson.” The color was a faded, light reddish-brown that looked less like paint and more like blood.
“It was left by a student who lived here before,” Yue Du said softly.
The other two female players came closer to look, then went back to search their own beds. Sure enough, they found more dried bloodstains in other hidden spots—some were fragmented words, others just splatters.
Yue Du asked, “Does blood have a special meaning for the followers of the Red Copper Bird?”
The woman with the buzz cut replied, “It does. Although the official data doesn't say so, most players believe that each Evil God has its own representative imagery, and their followers strictly worship the colors that symbolize their deity. The Red Copper Bird symbolizes blood and fire, so its followers regard red as supreme.”
After a pause, she added half-jokingly, “Of course, that's just the followers' conviction. Who knows if the deity itself actually cares.”
Yue Du thought of the Deep Darkness followers from the last instance who insisted on wearing black, and of Einser, who always wore a black dress. She had to admit the theory made sense.
Who knew if the Deep Darkness Ruler liked the color black? In any case, its “young lady” certainly seemed to.
Ah Jiu knew Yue Du so well that one look at her expression told her what she was thinking. She felt both helpless and endeared. There was nothing to do but keep quiet. Besides, with Yue Du's quick mind, it wouldn't be long before she realized she'd gotten it wrong.
The academy rules stipulated that students must take a nap at noon and were forbidden from leaving their dorms. Although the academy's rules weren't necessarily the instance's rules, Yue Du had no intention of exploring rashly on the first day, so she obediently lay down on the bottom bunk.
Ah Jiu tried to share the bed with her, but after a firm rejection, she sulkily climbed to the top bunk. She passed the rest period by chatting quietly with Yue Du through the bedboard.
The class monitor had said the afternoon activity was a trip to the “meditation room.” They were to gather at the entrance of the academic building instead of going to their classroom.
The players arrived fifteen minutes early, but they were still slower than the local students. The students were already standing in neat, expressionless rows in front of the building, looking as if they had been there for a long time and had never gone back to their dorms at all.
At two in the afternoon, the sun was still blazing, but the players were covered in cold sweat as they quickly fell into their respective class formations.
The class monitor glanced in their direction. “Everyone's here. Let's go.”
The students responded eagerly, their blank faces transforming into looks of extreme anticipation. Yue Du tugged on Ah Jiu's sleeve, and they followed at the back of the line into the meditation room on the same floor as their classroom.
A wave of heat hit them the moment they stepped inside.
Yue Du paused instinctively. In the center of the room, a red stone platform enclosed a roaring fire. The flames burned quietly, their tips nearly licking the ceiling, making the air in the room scorchingly hot. Yet the students ahead of them seemed completely unaffected by the heat as they walked in one by one and sat in a circle around the fiery platform.
Yue Du grit her teeth and followed them into the meditation room, feeling like an ingredient that had willingly jumped into a steamer. But even a steamer wouldn't produce this terrifying heat, which felt like standing on the verge of a volcano.
She followed the others' example and sat down around the stone platform. Beads of sweat immediately formed on her forehead, and her breath came out hot.
Ah Jiu sat down beside her and said worriedly in her mind, “Just bear with it. These followers are still human, so the temperature should be within the limits of human tolerance.”
After a moment of acclimatization, Yue Du replied, “It's fine. It's like being in a sauna. Not unbearable.”
Behind them, the pair of cousins with buzz cuts also entered. The intense heat made their faces fall instantly, and they sat down behind Yue Du, muttering to each other.
Each class had twenty students, and two classes shared a meditation room. Yue Du's Weiyue Class was paired with Shenyue Class, which the buzz-cut cousins belonged to.
Weiyue and Shenyue corresponded to the sixth and seventh months of the lunar calendar, roughly the hottest time of the year. According to the class monitor, these two classes were also the most outstanding.
Yue Du didn't know exactly how outstanding they were, but judging by the solemn, sweat-free faces of the students around her, their heat tolerance was certainly excellent.
“Relax your minds. Feel the flame and the heat. In your meditation, draw as close as you can to the revered Lord, though the distance between us and Him is as vast as a chasm…”
The class monitor recited slowly, her voice practiced and familiar.
The players, meanwhile, shut their eyes tight, pretending to meditate earnestly while battling the intense heat. It was quite an ordeal.
Just then, the door to the meditation room opened again. The class monitor looked toward the sound, her expression surprisingly defiant and insubordinate—a stark contrast to her usual exceptional respect for every staff member at the academy.
“Headmaster Xuan,” she greeted stiffly.
Headmaster Xuan? But hadn't the class monitor said this morning that the headmaster was Mr. Geng? Yue Du cracked her eyes open to peek at the doorway. When she got a clear look at the person's face, her breath caught.
It was a woman in a black qipao with a dark cloud pattern. Her long, jet-black hair was casually pinned up, and her eyes were slightly narrowed in what looked like a pleasant smile.
Of course, that wasn't the point. The point was that she looked almost identical to Einser. The only difference was that her features were more distinctly East Asian.
Yue Du shut her eyes, pretending she hadn't seen a thing.
Whether this was Einser or not, she was definitely connected to that young lady. Don't tell me she followed me here, Yue Du thought.
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