His hateful gaze cut into my heart like a knife. I wondered what could drive him to such lengths to destroy Zhao Zhiyong. The carp tattoo on Li Qian's buttocks hinted at their past, but what secret did I miss?
Some might say it's just a love triangle, but only deep hatred would justify feeding his own flesh to curses—such black magic exacts a heavy price.
"Revenge should target the guilty," I said. "The unborn baby is innocent. I can't stand by."
He snorted, pale but resolute, and told his story.
Six years ago, in a Li village in Lingnan, he married the girl he'd loved for six years. They had a son, but as tourism boomed, Li Qian, the village beauty, grew restless. She practiced Mandarin, claiming it was to trade with Han people, but she plotted escape.
One day, during a tour group visit, Li Qian sold tea and was harassed until Zhao Zhiyong intervened. Divorced and depressed, Zhao became her ticket to the outside world.
When Zhao offered 30,000 yuan to keep her, Li Qian agreed. Caught by her in-laws, Zhao pushed the mother, who hit a stove and died. The father had a heart attack. Li Qian fled with Zhao, forgetting their one - year - old son. A typhoon delayed Fu Wei's return—he found his parents' rotting bodies and his son starved to death in his crib.
I was horrified. Three lives lost because of Zhao. If I were Fu Wei, would I seek such vengeance? Love and hate tangled—who was truly in the right?
Fu Wei searched for years, guided by a shaman's curse ceremony. When he found Li Qian in Shenyang, they rekindled their affair, but she refused to leave Zhao, even after getting pregnant. Betrayed, Fu Wei unleashed the Rat Resentment—first corrupting Zhao Na, then cursing Zhao Zhiyong.
His scars spoke of endless nights carving his flesh to feed the curse. I sympathized: "Stop now. I'll plead for your life. She's not worth it. Your parents wouldn't want you consumed by hate."
"Stop?" He laughed bitterly. "Who repays my parents' lives? My baby, who never saw the world? Who avenges him?"
I hesitated. The law should judge, but (Lao Zhao) was guilty, and the baby innocent. "Call the police. There must be evidence from that day."
Fu Wei sneered, his pale face and blue tattoos ghostly. Li people's witchcraft had troubled rulers for centuries.
Zhao Zhiyong knelt beside me. "Master, I've donated 3 million yuan since the typhoon! I was careless then."
Fu Wei's eyes burned. "Save you? I'll eat your flesh! Three lives—you must pay!"
Zhao Na shouted at her father, "So it's true! How could you betray Mom for this fox!"
Fu Wei drew blood (runes) on his face. "Not even gods can save you! I offer my soul to the cycle of reincarnation—heaven, witness my (injustice)!"
With each cry of "injustice," bloodworms seemed to squirm on his face. A thunderclap split the sky, wind howled, and windows rattled. I sighed: Fu Wei had doomed himself, trading eternal reincarnation for vengeance. Right or wrong, his fate was sealed.