NHSDO Chapter 4: The Storm

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The large black dog, hiding by the courtyard wall, listened to the wind carrying voices. He let out a soft "heh" and said, "She still remembers me."

Lin Mu turned his head to look at him, nodding slightly. "Mm."

"She still remembers," the black dog repeated, smacking his lips. "She really is a good person."

The old lady was a kindhearted person.

When the black dog was just a puppy, he had been abandoned in the winter outside the neighborhood wall, left in a cardboard box. His littermates had all frozen to death, and he was barely clinging to life.

But luckily, a young woman passing by picked him up, nursed him back to health with care, and he grew up safely—so much so that he even had the good fortune of developing sentience.

That period was the happiest time he could remember.

The young woman who had taken him in went from being a student to a teacher, got married, and had children. Meanwhile, the black dog, in his ignorance, reached an old age for his kind.

He didn't realize he had gained intelligence, nor did he recognize his uniqueness.

There were many beings like him, who awakened their minds without realizing it. Most of them perished due to hardships and fate.

The black dog hadn't thought much about it back then. He only wanted to stay with her a little longer—just a little longer. He clung to time, unwilling to leave.

Later, his owner met with misfortune and was hospitalized, hovering between life and death. Remembering the debt of gratitude he owed her, the black dog was jolted into full awareness. Relying on his abilities as a black male dog, he secretly followed a few underworld messengers to the netherworld. There, he forcefully snatched back the old lady’s soul, but in doing so, he was captured and punished in her place.

The black dog endured hardship in the underworld for over sixty years, and through a twist of fate, he transformed into a spirit. By the time he was finally released and made his way back, the old lady’s hair had turned gray, and she was surrounded by grandchildren.

Her children had grown into successful individuals with thriving careers. They ultimately decided to settle abroad, and while the old lady didn’t object, she refused to go with them.

"You know, she kept that little outfit she made for me all those years ago," the black dog said. "She even put up a memorial tablet for me and treats the day she woke up in the hospital as my death anniversary. Every year, on that day, she places a bowl of meat in front of my tablet."

He paused before adding, "Back then, when I stole her food, she would scold and hit me."

Lin Mu glanced down at the black dog beside him but said nothing.

"Later, people asked her why she put up a tablet for a dog." The black dog smacked his lips again. "She just said, 'Back then, Da Hei took the disaster in my place. I lived, but Da Hei died.'"

Sometimes, the old lady would talk about the Gates of Hell, the Road to the Underworld, and the Bridge of Forgetfulness over the River of Oblivion.

She said that by the bridge, countless small white flowers grew. At midnight, they would suddenly burst into flames, burning the guilty wandering souls and forming a sea of eerie green fire over the river, illuminating the dim Road to the Underworld as bright as daylight.

After midnight, when the flowers had burned to ash, their remnants would fall back to the riverbank and bloom anew, full of life once more.

Not many people took her words seriously, but the black dog, who secretly watched over her, was overjoyed.

The old lady still remembered him.

Even now, she still remembered.

"She still remembers me—remembers walking through the Gates of Hell."

The black dog turned to glance at the spot where they had just been standing. The morning and evening flower had already been brought inside.

"Her time is almost up," he murmured. "I think she should pass away surrounded by the warmth of her family and students, don’t you?"

Lin Mu nodded. "That’s a pretty tactful way of putting it."

"If I can be tactful, why not be?" the black dog grumbled. "If I told her straight up, 'You're dying soon, call your children back,' wouldn’t she just get angry and make things worse?"

"There are plenty of other ways to handle it," Lin Mu said.

"But this is a secret only she and I know," the black dog replied. "Don’t you think that’s kind of romantic?"

Lin Mu: "…"

Alright.

Not sure I understand you demons.

But the black dog didn’t need anyone else to understand. He was silent for a long time before finally saying,

"She’s about to forget me."

"Once she's dead, it won’t even take three days before she has to cross the Naihe Bridge and drink Meng Po's soup. She’ll forget about me then," Dahei muttered. "Sigh, why are human lives so short..."

Dahei stopped mid-sentence and glanced up at Lin Mu.

Lin Mu was looking down at him too.

Dahei opened his mouth, realizing that he had once again said something wrong.

"Uh..." He let out a short sound, then silently picked up his leash and handed it to Lin Mu.

Lin Mu took the leash and followed Dahei to the office.

He actually didn’t mind what Dahei had said—because it was true. His mother’s death had been years ago; it wasn’t some untouchable wound anymore.

But after everything he had heard today, Lin Mu couldn’t help but feel a little curious about the father his mother had never once mentioned.

Since demons didn’t seem to enjoy interacting with humans, what exactly had led his parents to be together?—Oh, of course, there was always the possibility that it was a one-night stand gone wrong, that his dear mother had tricked his unknown father, or that his unknown father had simply messed around and left his dear mother with him.

But out of basic respect for his bloodline, Lin Mu chose to believe that his parents had been in love and conceived him willingly.

Lin Mu tugged lightly on the leash in his hand and asked, "Dahei, is there any way demons can check blood relations?"

"Huh?" Dahei turned his head and replied in a low voice, "There is, but only in ancient traditions. We wild demons don’t know those methods."

Lin Mu nodded in disappointment.

Dahei picked up on what he really meant—Lin Mu probably wanted to know exactly what kind of demon he was.

But there was nothing Dahei could do about that, so he could only ramble on in an attempt to comfort Lin Mu. Then, as Lin Mu was about to leave, Dahei gave him an entire bag of Chaomu seeds.

"As far as I know, you're the only human or demon who can actually grow these. You're the chosen one," Dahei told him. "Plant them around your house—they repel demons, evil spirits, and ghosts. Any demon, spirit, or ghost that has done bad things will be burned to ashes if they get too close. At midnight, when their power is strongest, the seeds' effects will also be at their peak."

Lin Mu had originally wanted to refuse, but after hearing that, he simply accepted them.

Before, when he hadn’t known about demons and ghosts, his usual tricks for dealing with people had been enough. But now that he was aware of these supernatural beings, those little tricks wouldn’t cut it anymore.

For the sake of safety, he needed to be prepared.

After grabbing lunch outside, Lin Mu headed home with the bag of Chaomu seeds.

As soon as he got home, he scattered the seeds evenly along the base of his bamboo fence. Before long, tiny, delicate white flowers sprouted, hiding among the vines, occasionally peeking out shyly in the breeze.

Under the blazing sun, Lin Mu moved a few potted plants that needed shade back inside, then stared blankly at his empty house for a while before turning toward the attic.

The attic had been his mother's storage space, and after her passing, Lin Mu had kept using it as a storage area.

Now, sorting through it was going to be a hassle.

Especially because, back when he was handling his mother’s affairs, the grief had been unbearable. He had barely touched anything in the house, leaving it almost exactly as it had been. Even now, he kept the second-floor room and workspace that had belonged to his mother tidy and untouched.

But paper-based things were hard to preserve. Over time, they had yellowed and faded.

Lin Mu spent an entire afternoon sorting through the attic and found three possibly useful notebooks and a folder.

He wiped the dust off the covers, stood in the second-floor hallway for a moment of silence, then finally turned and walked into his mother’s workspace.

The room had excellent lighting, bright and clean.

The setting sun cast a golden beam of light through the window, illuminating tiny specks of dust that floated lazily in the air, creating a quiet and somewhat melancholic atmosphere despite the daylight.

On the desk sat a pencil case and a few stacks of documents. The nearby bookshelf was crammed full of books, and the wall still had a world map pinned with sticky notes and developed photographs.

Lin Mu switched on the light and immediately noticed a photo pressed under the glass of the desk.

It was a picture of his mother, holding a hose, trying to wash a Samoyed that was covered in dust from rolling around.

Lin Mu recognized that Samoyed—it had belonged to his mother’s mentor and was named Nai Tang (Milk Candy).

The dog had passed away last year from old age.

That mentor had always taken care of Lin Mu’s business and remained a loyal customer. Many other clients had also been referred by them.

Lin Mu stared at the photo for a long while.

Suddenly, he felt that living alone in a two-story house with a large yard and an attic was incredibly lonely. His gaze lingered on his mother’s beaming smile in the photo, and he decided that in a few days, he would visit the pet shop to see if any puppies caught his eye.

Preferably a Samoyed.

With that thought in mind, Lin Mu sat down and opened one of the newly found notebooks.

Just then, his phone vibrated with a push notification—an orange-level heavy rain warning for the night.

Lin Mu froze, then walked over to the window.

Only then did he notice the damp, earthy scent that had started to permeate the air under the darkening sky. Overhead, thick, leaden clouds churned, and occasional flashes of lightning flickered in the distance.

A storm was coming.

Lin Mu glanced down at the carefully tended potted plants in his yard, quickly shoved his phone into his pocket, and hurried downstairs. He rushed to move the more delicate plants inside, then grabbed a few wooden poles and a heavy rain tarp from inside the house to set up a shelter in the yard.

But he was still a little too slow.

Without warning, the rain began pouring down in torrents. The raindrops, as big as beans, struck his body with sharp, rhythmic pattering sounds.

Lin Mu dashed back inside to grab a raincoat, then stepped out again, bracing himself against the downpour that was heavy enough to make it hard to lift his head.

Resolutely, he continued setting up the shelter for his plants.

—But he still had one more to go.

The raincoat was no match for the heavy downpour—he was already soaked through, rain streaming down his body and face.

Lin Mu took a deep breath and still went back inside to grab a few more wooden poles. As soon as he stepped out and planted two poles into the ground, securing the rain tarp, the delicate white flowers planted around the yard suddenly let out a sharp whoosh—the sound of flames igniting.

Then, despite the relentless rain, they burst into roaring flames.

Startled, Lin Mu took a step back. Through the blurry curtain of rain, he vaguely caught sight of a ring of green fire outside the yard. He hurriedly retreated another two steps—only to suddenly stumble over something soft at his feet.

Lowering his head, he found himself locking eyes with a battered, bloodied dog lying on the ground.

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