PTGWD Chapter 69: Transformation

Fang Xingzhou stood before the mirror, a towel loosely draped around him, and noticed his body was covered in densely packed, eerie bite marks, interspersed with oddly shaped hickeys.

The bite marks were arranged in neat rows, like staples, while the hickeys were even stranger—each one shaped like a heart.

Fang Xingzhou: “…”

He had blacked out halfway through and couldn’t recall how these marks appeared. It looked as if some large creature had nibbled its way across his skin, inch by inch.

Fortunately, he didn’t have work today.

Fang Xingzhou casually pulled on a T-shirt, the horrifying marks on his neck still exposed, and trudged downstairs. There, he saw the massive creature humming an off-key tune with its vocal cords as it busily set the dining table with food.

The rich aroma filled the living room. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his gaze locked onto the black bean porridge in the center.

Dozens of eyes had already noticed his presence. Two tentacles reached out, gently embracing him and settling him onto a cushioned chair.

At least half of the eyes focused on the marks on Fang Xingzhou’s neck, and the color of the creature’s brain visibly deepened.

“Darling, are you tired? Did you sleep well? Want to take a nap after breakfast?”

Seven or eight tentacles busied themselves, massaging Fang Xingzhou’s shoulders and legs, while a few others stealthily coiled around the bruises on his ankles, frantically licking and repairing them to erase all evidence.

Fang Xingzhou, still fixated on the black bean porridge, failed to notice these small tricks. He hoarsely asked, “Did you add something to this again?”

Lu Jianchuan’s brain nodded. A tentacle held the porridge bowl, another scooped up a spoonful, and yet another gently blew on it before bringing it to Fang Xingzhou’s lips. “Just a little something from Dr. Yan. Try it and see if you like it.”

A richer fragrance than before wafted up. Every cell in his body screamed at him to pour the porridge into his stomach, and his mouth watered uncontrollably.

He opened his mouth and took a bite. An indescribable taste exploded across his tongue, his mind going blank for several seconds. His pupils dilated, and his breathing quickened.

The ultimate mysterious sweetness…

It tasted nearly the same as the soup from last time, but subtly different. The sweetness was stronger, mixed with a faintly fishy undertone—not the usual scent of meat, but something indescribable, an aroma that awakened an insatiable hunger, like a forbidden fruit from Eden.

Fang Xingzhou swallowed instinctively. Everywhere the porridge touched instantly grew warm. His eyes turned slightly misty from the physiological response. Soon, another spoonful was brought to his lips. Unable to think, he bit down on the spoon again without hesitation.

Watching his usually picky wife devour the food so eagerly, the giant jellyfish narrowed its eyes in delight, feeding him spoonful after spoonful until the bowl was empty. Then, a tentacle emerged, using its tongue to lick away the remaining food at the corners of his lips.

“Did you like it?” the vocal cords asked eagerly.

Fang Xingzhou didn’t speak immediately.

All the blood in his body had surged to his stomach, helping his system absorb the divine blood mixed into the porridge. This time, the amount was larger than before. As the divine energy seeped into his bloodstream, it began subtly transforming his body.

The genes responsible for aging froze. His heart strengthened. The muscle soreness accumulated over time eased. The bite marks across his body healed rapidly, leaving only the heart-shaped hickeys behind.

A thin layer of sweat formed on Fang Xingzhou’s skin.

Due to blood loss, his complexion had been slightly pale these past few days, but now, it finally regained a healthy glow.

“It was delicious,” he finally answered, his voice dazed. He grabbed one of the tentacles. “…It tasted similar to last time. Still something from the ocean?”

Lu Jianchuan, terrible at lying, let out a vague “Mmm” in response.

Fortunately, Fang Xingzhou was in a post-meal stupor, his brain sluggish. After eating a few bites of stewed pear, he put down his chopsticks.

Yawning repeatedly, he felt warm and drowsy. He muttered, “This stuff makes me so sleepy… I think I’ll go back to bed.”

Lu Jianchuan inhaled deeply, taking in its own scent on Fang Xingzhou, seeping from his very being.

The brain felt light and euphoric. It coiled around its beloved and carried him back to the bedroom, pressing against Fang Xingzhou’s cheek in a “kiss.”

“Goodnight, darling,” the vocal cords murmured affectionately. “You need more rest. I’ll take care of everything.”

Fang Xingzhou was too drowsy to open his eyes and simply nodded.

Lu Jianchuan gently closed the door.

Now, it was alone in the living room.

It disposed of the leftover food, cleaned up the kitchen, and opened the windows.

It was the weekend. Autumn had arrived, bringing a cool breeze. The ginkgo leaves outside had turned golden, carpeting the ground. The neighbor was walking Liu Bang again. Even from over a hundred meters away, Lu Jianchuan clearly saw the spotted dog happily trotting along, its jade dog tag swaying with every step.

A tentacle subconsciously curled around the protective talisman nestled inside the gestational sac, rubbing it with reverence.

It finally had its own token, too.

The brain’s grooves deepened in satisfaction.

The neighbor, however, felt a sudden chill despite his leather jacket, as if it were about to snow. The spotted dog trembled, stubbornly refusing to take another step forward.

After a brief standoff, the neighbor cursed under his breath and turned back.

On his way home, he noticed the bushes rustling unnaturally, as if something were moving through them.

An inexplicable unease crawled over his skin. Quickening his pace, he nearly ran back and slammed his door shut.

He failed to notice the eerie scene unfolding behind him.

—Every animal in the area had gathered outside the neighboring villa. Swarms of butterflies, moths, and mosquitoes formed dark clouds. Snakes slithered. Rats scurried. Even some uncommon species had been drawn here, as though magnetized by an invisible force.

The terrifying monster stood by the window, like an ancient beast of legend.

A tentacle picked up its phone and searched for the list of protected animals. Dozens of eyes scanned the list at once, efficiently identifying species.

Then, it tossed the protected animals back out and happily indulged in a snack…

…

That afternoon, workers arrived to install a new bathtub and bed.

The household was… peculiar. Though it was autumn, the moment they approached the entrance, the temperature inexplicably plummeted.

After ringing the doorbell, the door swung open on its own. A cold draft rushed past them.

Several workers shivered in unison. They glanced around the warmly decorated living room but saw no one.

…Who had opened the door?

Just as unease crept in, a rose in the entrance vase suddenly spoke.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I’m currently out, but please take shoe covers from the cabinet and proceed with the installation. Kindly keep the noise down—my wife is sleeping upstairs.”

One of the workers let out a startled yelp, but oddly, the sound came out muffled, as if something had suppressed it.

The others turned toward the rose in disbelief.

The rose continued, “Stop looking. There’s a camera inside the vase. I’m just speaking through it.”

It was a plausible explanation, yet the workers couldn’t shake off the eerie feeling.

Exchanging glances, they silently put on shoe covers and got to work.

The bathtub was massive—almost the size of a bed. As they maneuvered it through the house, a drop of icy, sticky liquid splashed onto the lead worker’s hand.

A faint, briny scent reached his nose.

He looked up instinctively—

And saw something moving in the reflection of the glass.

A colossal shadow.

He froze, pupils contracting—then slowly, stiffly, lifted his head to the ceiling.

—Nothing.

No liquid. No shadow. No sign of anything unusual.

…Was it just his imagination?

He froze for a while until his companion urged, “What are you spacing out for? Hurry up and finish so we can go home—it’s freezing here.”

He shook his head, pushed the bathtub again, and dazedly glanced at the back of his hand. His skin was dry and slightly peeling, showing no trace of any liquid.

Letting out a long sigh of relief, he stopped himself from overthinking and focused on the task at hand.

…

As they worked, the monster covered in scarlet eyes crouched on the ceiling, supervising.

To prevent anyone from looking up again, Lu Jianchuan cast a mental cue. The moment someone thought of looking up, their attention would immediately be diverted by something else.

With this cue in place, the installation proceeded smoothly and pleasantly.

Inside the gestational sac, the baby saw the large bathtub and happily rolled around, eager to soak in the bath with its mother—and ideally, its father too.

Lu Jianchuan tapped the gestational sac with a tentacle, warning it to behave.

The bathtub was enormous, taking three to four hours to install. Just as they finished, the workers delivering the bed arrived.

Somehow, a thick stack of money had appeared on the shoe cabinet. The rose spoke again, distributing the payment and tips, seeing off two batches of terrified workers with gentlemanly decorum.

As the last worker fled in panic, a tentacle dropped down from the ceiling and swiftly locked the door.

The monster happily crawled onto the new bed, writhing back and forth to confirm its sturdiness—no more creaking. Then it spread out new blankets and sheets, waiting for its beloved to wake up so they could move the bed into their love nest.

After setting up the bed, it went into the bathroom, scrubbed the enormous bathtub until it gleamed, filled it with hot water, and sank in, listening to music as it soaked.

It bathed until nightfall, yet Fang Xingzhou still hadn’t woken up.

Lu Jianchuan tidied up the bathroom and quietly crawled to Fang Xingzhou’s side, leaning in to take a careful sniff.

Fang Xingzhou was slightly warm. In the span of a single nap, he had absorbed most of the tentacle he had ingested. His skin had become soft and smooth, his lips full and rosy, his expression peaceful, with a faint smile as if he were lost in a beautiful dream.

The brain kissed his forehead, contentedly admiring his sleeping lover.

—Until the buzzing of the phone on the nightstand shattered the quiet.

Lu Jianchuan quickly silenced the phone and carefully observed Fang Xingzhou. Seeing that he was still asleep, it turned its displeased gaze toward the caller ID.

Caller: Qin Hongbo.

Lu Jianchuan knew Fang Xingzhou’s phone password. It unlocked the device and scrolled through the long list of missed calls and unread messages.

Most were greetings from hospital colleagues—the director, department heads, Dr. An, Dr. Li, and many names Lu Jianchuan didn’t recognize, as well as Qin Hongbo.

Qin Hongbo alone had called over a dozen times and sent dozens of messages in a single day, but since Fang Xingzhou had been at the institute, he hadn’t had the chance to respond.

As soon as the call was declined, another message from Qin Hongbo followed:
“Teacher, are you awake now? Did I disturb your rest? How are you feeling? Please reply when you have time. Everyone is worried about you!”

Dozens of eyes darkened as they stared at the messages, the tentacle holding the phone writhing slowly.

Some terrible memories it had forced itself to forget resurfaced. Its gaze shifted to Fang Xingzhou’s neck—the wounds had already healed, yet the image of blood splattering remained deeply imprinted in its mind, easily triggered by just a few words.

Along with it came the bone-deep despair and fear from that day.

The warm bedroom began to feel cold.

In its true form, its primal instincts and impulses became harder to control. Lu Jianchuan’s tentacles flew over the screen, quickly typing a reply to Qin Hongbo:

“I’m awake, but not in great condition. I’d like to take a long leave. Could you inform the director for me? Thank you.”

After sending the message, it put the phone on silent and moved closer to Fang Xingzhou again, coiling its tentacles around him affectionately. The brain rubbed against his cheek over and over, using his warmth to dispel unpleasant shadows.

The vocal cords hummed a tune once more, though the melody was nearly unrecognizable.

It couldn’t let Zhouzhou leave its sight again, it thought.

The hospital was too dangerous.

Even the shopping mall across the street, the market a few kilometers away, and their favorite hotpot restaurant—all were too dangerous. For fragile humans, the world was full of lurking threats.

Only their love nest—was absolutely safe.

Hide Zhouzhou away.

Guard him.

Watch over him.

Never be apart.

The giant monster happily squeezed the folds of its brain, making a low rumbling sound, like a dragon from a fairy tale, tightening its grip on the treasure it guarded.