PTGWD Chapter 90: Sunrise

Crack.

A new fissure split across the eggshell.

The freshly stitched wound had already begun healing, the sutures embedding into flesh, rubbing against the straining eggshell—itching like wriggling earthworms.

Fang Xingzhou leaned against the bamboo pillow, listening to the faint cracking sounds muffled by flesh and blood, gradually drifting into unconsciousness from blood loss.

Plunged into darkness, he was pulled into an enormous dream.

On the flip side of reality, a fantastical dream silently enveloped the entire city.

Every sleeping person fell into the ocean within their dreams, transforming into fish that could breathe freely underwater. They gazed around curiously, swimming vigorously, greeting one another, overwhelmed by inexplicable joy as daytime worries faded away.

The sea stretched endlessly. After what felt like an eternity of swimming, a comforting warm current gently swept them into a swirling vortex.

Unable to resist, they looked up to see the same blood-red moonlight from the real world piercing the water’s surface. Countless tiny bioluminescent creatures spiraled with the current, turning the scene into a breathtaking galactic spectacle.

And at the vortex’s heart, an unparalleled, jellyfish-like behemoth swam into this realm from an unknown dimension. Its translucent bell floated atop countless slender tentacles, their tips lined with densely-packed tiny mouths, yawning open as they stretched elegantly beneath the moonlight.

Deep within the bell, shrouded in mucus, pairs of pupil-less crimson eyes drifted amidst a scattering of distinctly human ones—black and white orbs darting about curiously, some studying the moonlight, others observing the creatures entering its domain, as if seeing the world for the first time through its own eyes.

When its gaze fell upon them, every dreamer instinctively held their breath, awestruck by the eldritch divine spectacle before them. Some even wept uncontrollably, desperately fighting the current to approach the descended deity, begging for its notice and mercy.

A soft, distant laughter echoed as the eyes within the bell whirled rapidly, seemingly glimpsing the suffering etched into those drawing near.

Then, tentacles swayed, erasing calamity, reducing them to pre-evolutionary single-celled organisms—free from worldly trivialities, granted with momentary respite.

No desire, no pain, no need to toil for survival—just eternal drifting within this divine realm…

A fortunate, blissful dream.

……

Fang Xingzhou awoke from the pleasant dream.

His eyes opened, mind still reeling from the dream’s lingering awe, yet one thought crystallized with absolute clarity—

Fang Yanzhou had successfully hatched.

He exhaled deeply, first glancing out the window where the moon had vanished, replaced by pale dawn light as birdsong trilled through the woods.

Sensation below his stomach had dulled significantly; the pain had disappeared unnoticed.

After several minutes, he slowly raised his head to examine his abdomen.

Only a pink scar remained, tangled with suture threads. Below it, something squirmed violently, distorting his belly into grotesque shapes.

Sleepiness evaporated instantly. Heart pounding, Fang Xingzhou tried pushing himself upright, but his limbs seemed possessed—utterly unresponsive.

Unable to move, trapped by some unseen force on the bamboo bed, only his neck retained mobility.

The two heartbeats within him had perfectly synchronized. It felt as though he and the newly hatched Fang Yanzhou had merged into one.

Tendrils had rooted into his organs like invasive vines, spreading through blood vessels, rapidly colonizing his entire body.

His abdomen convulsed more intensely. Familiar high-pitched squeals, broken cries of “Dada,” and soft sobs emanated from within.

Breaths turning ragged, Fang Xingzhou tried calling his child’s name—only for his vocal cords to seize mid-attempt. Veins bulged grotesquely as if snakes writhed beneath his skin, the tendrils distending vessel walls, draining blood, fundamentally altering human physiology—

Fang Xingzhou’s expression froze, mouth gaping in a soundless scream.

Bones creaked. Fingers twitched involuntarily. Gasping, he felt his bloodstream vacuumed dry in an instant, only to be flooded with an unknown fluid that surged toward his heart, revitalizing his long-stagnant growth.

The abdominal scar vanished. Sutures were expelled outright. His frame elongated anew, growth pains wracking his trembling form.

Aging’s marks faded from his skin. Muscles regained youthful vitality. Nerves sprouted wildly like spring vines.

His perception of the world transformed.

He heard his mother’s steady breathing outside the door, tires rolling on roads kilometers away, distant ocean waves crashing, even a leaf settling at the mountain’s base.

Sunlight refracting into his retinas no longer appeared invisible—instead manifesting as tangled threads of fate weaving into his abdomen before stretching skyward toward Xiangxing Street.

Following these threads, he “saw” his lifespan extending indefinitely…

The squirming belly emitted clear cries again.

Between sniffles, Fang Yanzhou called: “Dada.”

As the word vibrated his eardrums, divine genetic fragments forcibly integrated into human DNA. Fang Xingzhou and Fang Yanzhou were now irrevocably fused—blood and bone.

……

Ten fleeting minutes of fusion stretched into an eternity.

Overwhelmed by divine blood’s impact, Fang Xingzhou briefly lost consciousness. Upon reopening his eyes, his once-dark pupils had transformed into Lu Jianchuan’s pale amber hue.

Feverish yet lighter than ever, he flexed his fingers—now unconstrained—and sat up.

His abdomen continued undulating. Crunching sounds signaled Fang Yanzhou consuming its shed shell fragments inside him, replenishing lost energy.

Fang Xingzhou clenched and unclenched his fists, confirming his bizarre, unnatural vigor.

“Tangtang, have we… grown together?” he calmly stated the obvious. “If I reopen my abdomen now, can you come out?”

After finishing its shell, Fang Yanzhou squeaked and bulged his belly outward.

Fang Xingzhou felt minuscule teeth cautiously gnawing from within—strangely painless.

Unlike Lu Jianchuan’s dentition, these undeveloped mouthparts resembled rows of sharp staples piercing flesh.

The newly regenerated abdominal wall proved thin. Soon, a tentacle tip emerged, smeared with blood and tissue debris, gently brushing its father’s skin.

Fang Xingzhou’s breath hitched.

Heart hammering, he sterilized a scalpel and sliced along the protrusion, reopening the wound.

A round, sobbing head crawled out, its original color indistinguishable beneath bloodstains, its form identical to the tiny jellyfish found on the beach twenty-two years prior.

Fang Xingzhou’s pupils contracted, transfixed by the miraculous life he and Lu Jianchuan had created—overwhelmed by profound tenderness.

Every hardship felt redeemed in this moment. Chest warming, he reverently wiped blood from the bell, meeting the mucus-veiled eyes as he whispered, “Tangtang…”

Fang Yanzhou: “Ah!”

Two tentacles gripped the wound’s edges as it struggled forward—only for Fang Xingzhou to pale as internal organs tugged.

Exquisitely attuned to its father’s discomfort, Fang Yanzhou froze, clumsily twisting to see half its tendrils still rooted inside. Forcible extraction would cause unbearable pain.

Panicked and distraught, it licked the wound with its suckers, tears bubbling across its bell. Yet Fang Xingzhou only chuckled fondly. “Baby, you’re like a little tree growing inside me.”

Fang Yanzhou kept crying.

“It’s alright,” Fang Xingzhou soothed. “I don’t feel weak. You can stay awhile longer—take your time.”

The tiny jellyfish shook its head, bell flushing red as it began painstakingly extracting each tentacle—five minutes per strand. By the time half were free, daylight streamed through the window.

Checking his phone—5:30 a.m.—Fang Xingzhou noted Lu Jianchuan’s dozens of sleepless messages. The overprotective partner would likely come storming in soon.

Fortunately, Deer had missed the dream invasion and hadn’t rushed over overnight.

Fang Xingzhou dialed.

Lu Jianchuan answered halfway through the first ring, wind roaring as he sped somewhere. “Honey! Did Tangtang hatch? I sensed its divine energy! Why didn’t you answer all night? Just woke up?”

“It hatched. Everything’s fine,” Fang Xingzhou said. “We’re watching the sunrise in the mountains. Deer, I’m starving—could you get turnip cakes from east district?”

A pause.

“Praise the gods!” Lu Jianchuan cheered.

Fang Xingzhou smiled. “Mm, perhaps.”

“I’ll go now. Wait for me.”

“Okay, we’re waiting.”

He hung up.

East district lay across the entire city. Even at 200 km/h, it would take over an hour—plenty of time.

Cradling the tiny monster dangling from his abdomen, Fang Xingzhou carried it to the window.

A golden sun climbed the eastern horizon, gilding the awakening forest in radiant splendor.

Squinting into the dawn, Fang Xingzhou squeezed the jellyfish’s bell. “Tangtang, look—sunrise.”

The little jellyfish lifted its head dopily. Dozens of eyes pressed against the mucus membrane, mesmerized by its first sunrise.

“Ah!” it squealed excitedly.

Seizing the moment, Fang Xingzhou braced one hand against his belly, the other gripping its head—and yanked.

Fang Yanzhou blinked its many eyes, looking at it’s daddy, didn’t understand what just happened.

Half a second later.

All its tentacles knotted together: “WAAAAAH!!!”

 

T/N:

CON↑GRA↓CHU↑LATIONS TO OUR EGGG OHHHHYEEAAAA———！

Finally out of its shell!!!(╥╯w╰╥)