Sha Qing Chapter 1

Roy1 glanced at the blue screen of the car radio; it was currently 12:45 PM.

The interstate highway was silent, boundlessly extending forward under the irradiation of the high beam. Both sides were flanked by dark wilderness, and occasionally, the shadows of some tree cl.u.s.ters drifted by. If he didn't see the white lines on the road pa.s.s him by from his peripheral vision, he would've been convinced that the car stayed motionless.

It was too quiet; this silence brought the man a sense of unease. He reached out with his arm and pressed on the radio b.u.t.ton to turn it on—there was no sound; he didn't know when it broke.

Just when he was going to hum a song to himself, a silhouette suddenly appeared in front of the windshield.

He instantly slammed on the brakes, issuing a sharp screech. Roy's body bounced harshly against the driver's seat, he hit the steering wheel too fast, and the centrifugal force made him feel as if the whole world flipped upside down, but fortunately, the car eventually came to a stop.

This guy who nearly created a disaster was plainly visible before the headlights. He was a burly and tall black brother wearing a hooded long-sleeved shirt emblazoned with shambolic patterns. At first glance, it looked like an abstract design, but after studying it carefully, he found that it was a group of mangled skeletons without arms or legs. However, Roy felt that compared to his lower half, which sported a pair of appalling jeans decorated with metal chains, the t-shirt he wore was quite normal.

The man walked a couple of steps, bent his head over the car window, and then rapped his knuckles on it.

Roy warily rolled the window not even halfway2 down. Still traumatized, he accusingly reproached, "Don't you know that's dangerous?! If you want to commit suicide, then trouble another car! My car's been repaired three times already! One more time and off it goes into the junkyard!"

The man grinned, his teeth shined brightly underneath his hood, "If I didn't stand in the middle of the road, your Chevrolet would've rushed pa.s.sed me, just like the previous cars."

That's because you're standing on the roadside, in the middle of the night, without any lights around; that's like a dark coffee bean existing inside a c.o.ke bottle. Roy roasted the man in his mind, but because he was raised with good manners, he still kindly asked, "Need some help?"

"Of course! Is there anyone in the world who needs more help than I do—I was kicked out my car by a group of drunk a.s.sholes whose drunk-a.s.s brains thought it was just a joke! f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, they even drove my car away! d.a.m.n, I'll probably have to go tomorrow to look for it, and I bet I'll find it in a pond or between two trees! That's exactly how my last car got sc.r.a.pped! Honestly, these sons of b.i.t.c.hes…"

Roy frowned; he wished that the window had an added function that could block all that vulgar swearing. Obviously, compared to his a.s.shole friends, this guy who went on swearing from beginning to end the moment he greeted another wasn't any n.o.bler.

He wanted to step down on the accelerator and drive away; unfortunately, his intention was noticed before he could actually do it.

"Hey hey! Man, come on, don't be like this! I've been waiting so long at this d.a.m.ned place and only two cars pa.s.sed by me in the past hour; I don't want to stay in this countryside for the whole night…How about giving me a ride? I'll get off as soon as I see a gas station or a motel." The man pleaded.

Through the window, Roy saw the contours of his firm muscles under his fitted cotton t-shirt, and he hesitated.  Finally, he unlocked the car door.

"Praise the devil3!" The man opened the door, hopped into the pa.s.senger's seat, and then extended his right hand, "Quinn."

Roy stretched his hand out, and lightly shook hands with the hand covered in rings of skulls and vipers, "Li."

"Chinese? Korean?" Quinn c.o.c.ked his head as he observed him: twenty-three or twenty-four years old, possibly more or less, facial features are delicate and graceful, black hair is trimmed neatly, dressed in semi-casual clothes, looks like a fresh and delicate high schooler who just got out of school.

"Chinese." Roy nodded and gave only a small smile, with a hint of the unique modest and reserved practices common to Orientals.

Oh, mama and papa's sweet baby, such a good, law-abiding citizen! Quinn mockingly bared his teeth.

The car started up again, and the speed gradually increased to 80 miles per hour, exceeding the maximum speed limit on the interstate.

He couldn't wait and eagerly hurried to any place where there were people; afterwards, he could continue going down. Quinn pondered a while, then he smugly thought, he's nervous because there are only the two of us here…Hey, he's afraid of me!

A surge of malicious excitement welled up at the bottom of his heart, and after a brief moment of silence, he opened his mouth, "One man doing all the work this late4, it's pretty boring, isn't it?"

"Nope, work comes first." Roy answered.

"There aren't many people who think like you. You know, there's been fewer cars on this road lately because of that thing—" Quinn exaggeratedly motioned a slice across his neck and stuck his tongue out, "Swoosh5! You know about that?"

Roy bit his lip, looking somewhat agitated. "There are reports in the media," he whispered in fear, "They call him 'The Night Killer'."

"'The Night Killer', that nickname's just lame; my friends and I call him 'The Nightmare'. He's a cool guy, pretending to be a pedestrian on the side of the road, in need of help in the middle of the night. And then, the next day, people find an unlucky chap hanging upside down from a tree on the side of the road, two slashes on his wrist, his stomach cut open, his viscera hanging out of his body…" Quinn's voice grew deeper, he leaned over, seeming to want to get a better look at the reaction of the young man beside him—he looked at the road ahead, there were no obvious changes in his facial expression, but he swallowed his spit, his Adam's apple slid up and down ever so slightly; it was no doubt a sign of stress, anxiety, or perhaps even fear.

Quinn laughed in satisfaction, and continued on with this interesting subject matter, "Four men have already been sacrificed, but the police didn't even catch a single piece of his hair—this guy's a f.u.c.king genius!"

"What do you mean by…sacrifice?" Roy probed somewhat reluctantly; at the same time, he caught a glimpse of the huge black man beside him: his muscles bulged from under his t-shirt, his arms were nearly twice as thick as his neck, his body was tattooed, and although most was hidden underneath his collar, the exposed areas appeared to be parts of some sort of evil creature.

Quinn could see that his temporary travelling companion didn't like this topic much, yet he still took the initiative to talk; maybe it was because of his usual courtesy, or perhaps it was because he was forced to due to the atmospheric and psychological pressure.

The latter notion made Quinn feel more delighted, and he explained, "He would tie a man's ankle and hang him on the branches of a tree. Then, he'd cut him up, the blood would flow like water, kind of like dealing with a lamb. Finally, he would paint a pentagram on the ground, right below the body, with the name of the victim written smack down in the middle—a Black Ma.s.s6 ritual to offer a sacrifice to the devil."

Roy forced himself to concentrate on driving, and yet, he couldn't help but retort, "The newspaper didn't have to write it so detailed, it sounds like the contents of a poorly-written religious text."

Quinn laughed, "Oh, but of course, the newspapers didn't go into the details; they weren't involved."

Roy suddenly hit the brakes, the tires groaned on the cement ground. Quinn didn't wear his seatbelt, so his head hit the front dashboard, and he cried out, "d.a.m.n it! What are you doing?!"

"There's something wrong with the car in front of me," Roy turned around and stated, "You don't see that man and woman waving?"

A black new Volvo broke down on the side of the road. The driver was blond man over thirty years old, donning a dark grey suit that looked its worth and carrying a briefcase. He appeared to be a white-collared elite who worked at one of those high-cla.s.s commercial buildings, elegant and confident.

"I'm Alden." He got out of his car, and gratefully reached out to shake Roy's hand, then he introduced that young girl next to him, "This is Jessica; we met three hours ago, and she wanted to take my car to go to Lamar Town. The result was, we ended up being stuck here together."

"What's the problem?" Roy gestured to his car. "Can it be fixed?"

Alden shook his head, "I suspect there's a problem with the fuel. On the way, it showed that there was enough fuel, so I didn't think it would harm skipping over two gas stations."

"The distance to next gas station is uhh…roughly more than half an hour away, but maybe I can try to drag it there?"

Alden obviously didn't want to throw away a newly-purchased car on the roadside and wait until the next morning to fetch it back. He accepted the proposal, then very chivalrously, asked the opinion of his female companion.

Jessica shrugged, chewing on her gum, "I don't care. It's both the same car anyways." She was a pretty-looking girl with curly brown hair alluringly draped over her shoulders. Her skin was a bit dry, and the black shadows under her eyes couldn't be covered with concealer; it was as if she were constantly deprived of her sleep, overcome with exhaustion.

Roy found some steel rope in the back of the car's trunk; he fastened the two vehicles together, and then hit the road again.

There were two additional people in the back seat, and the originally lonely and gloomy atmosphere dispersed. At least Quinn no longer went on about that creepy topic; Roy leisurely drove ahead, his mood also improved a lot.

Along the way, the three people would chat about insignificant stuff one minute, and the next second, they would be quiet. The girl in the back seat rubbed her eyes and yawned, crookedly leaning against the gentleman beside her.

Roy noticed that Alden shifted in the direction of the car's door. He seemed to be rather repulsed by the girl's touch, despite the fact that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were plump and round, like a pair of peaches.

The half-asleep girl was apparently dissatisfied with his persistent avoidance; however, she eventually scooted over to him again, and sprawled across his thighs.

Roy saw Alden's face: embarra.s.sment, helplessness, and a faint trance of physiological disgust.

He couldn't help but want to laugh, but suddenly, a pair of deep azure eyes, as beautiful as the clear skies, collided with his line of sight in the rearview mirror.

He saw me staring at him, and he knows what I'm suspecting7. Roy quickly removed his eyes, the corners of his mouth gently hooked upwards into an ambiguous smile.

They arrived at a small gas station forty minutes later.

The young man in his work uniform awakened from his nap; his face didn't look too well, and he came up to help refill the fuel tank, muttering, "You don't plan to drive all night, right…"

"Of course not; I'm tired to death, and I might fall asleep." Roy rubbed his aching shoulders, "Is there a motel around here? I want to rest for a few hours."

The young man received the money, and listlessly pointed a finger straight ahead. "Just across this street, there's Rainbow Hotel." He spoke and then left them behind to figure things out for themselves.

Roy turned around and asked, "What do you guys think?"

"I won't drive at night." Quinn was the first to reply.

Alden hesitated for a moment, then looked back at his own refilled car. Jessica had already moved to the back seat of the Volvo's, and naturally fell asleep. He exhaled lightly, "Forget it, I'll also go. We'll set off first thing in the morning. Anyways, we'll take this girl and find her a place to rest."

And thus, there were four night visitors standing in front to the counter in the lobby of Rainbow Hotel. The proprietress wore pajamas as she dealt with registration and checked them in, grunting, "One gang? Two rooms should be enough; there are double beds."

"No, I want four," Roy spoke. "We uhh…we're not quite familiar with each other; we just met."

"There are two room available, the others are still under renovation!" The pen in the Madame's hand stopped; she drowsily glared at him. "That girl," she jerked the tip of her pen at the staggering Jessica and suspiciously questioned, "She wasn't kidnapped by you guys, was she?"

"Oh no! Of course not! She's just sleepy." Alden immediately started; Jessica was hanging off his arm, and he tried to shake her awake.

"I think she looks like she's on drugs." The owner's wife dryly added.

Jessica shook a few strand of her curly hair; she seemed to have awakened slightly, and she shrieked with irritation, "I don't do drugs! I just drank some wine…Just a bit! What law says that adults over the age of 21 aren't allowed to drink, hmm?" She used the palm of her hand to slap down on the counter, exposing her painted-black fingernails; then, she giggled, "Do you have any wine?" She leaned forward, and slowly winked, her thick, coated lashes fluttered, "The kind with additives?"

Alden pinched the s.p.a.ce between his eyebrows and gave a low moan; he took a couple of steps, stretched out his hand, and dragged the vain girl back, "Two is fine; she'll take one of the rooms, and the three of us will squeeze together in the other."

Jessica held onto his arm and tonelessly sang a song, "It was just us, it was just them, oh oh, we made great love, and they had gay…"8

Roy just bought a can of fruit juice from the nearby vending machine and was in the middle of drinking it when he suddenly spluttered and puffed it up, spraying it all over the floor and coughing violently.

Alden awkwardly grabbed the keys from the counter, and pulled the giggling and singing girl straight to the rooms, "Okay, Jessica, be quiet now, good girl, shhh, quiet…shut up…I said shut up!"

Quinn watched their retreating backs with an expression of regret, "I want to room with her; she must be spicy as h.e.l.l, hot enough to take your soul…"

Roy pretended not to hear, and he took the keys to open the door.

The room was very small, there was barely enough s.p.a.ce to fit in two twin beds, a wardrobe, a mini round table, and a sofa. Bleak and dark-colored wallpaper was pasted on the wall, but fortunately, the beddings were relatively tidy and clean.

Quinn followed behind and entered through the door. His ma.s.sive frame made the originally narrow room seem even more constricting; there was this faint feeling of stifling pressure in the air.

Roy sat just outside, near the bed's edge. He was psychically drained, incredibly tired. He wished he could take apart every one of his muscles and bones, spread them on top of the sheets, and sleep like the dead for the next few hours. But another presence in the room made it difficult for him to relax his nerves.

Quinn seemed to be aware that he was making the other uncomfortable; but the more anxious the other party became, the more pleasant his own mood was. He walked around the room, humming a strange, eerie melody. He stripped himself to down to his underwear, revealing the dark, firm muscles of his toned body.

G.o.d, this guy's tattooed from head to toe, he practically resembles a tower ruined by graffiti, Roy thought depressingly. Maybe I should go back to the car and sleep…

Just as he was getting ready to stand up, the door was lightly knocked on a few times. He walked over, turned the handle, and saw Alden standing outside the door, calmly smiling at him, "May I come in?"

Quinn's face was filled with incredulity, "You left the girl in the room? You're stupid, a freak…s.h.i.t, are you actually gay?" He rammed into the mattress and angrily tore at the sheets, "f.u.c.k, I really want to kill you!"

"Don’t mind him, he's just jealous." Roy tilted his head to the side and motioned for the man to enter through the door. "The bed isn't too large, but we'll have to make do."

1洛意— Technically: Luò Yì. Because they're in America, I wrote "Roy". But it may be "Lowe" or "Locke". Tell me if you guys' rather it as "Luo Yi" (original pinyin), "Roy" (what was written), or "Lowe/Locke" (alternative).
2Original actually said "half a palm's width", but "not even halfway down" should suffice.
3Original said "Thank Satan", but…well, same difference.
4开夜车—"Burn the midnight oil/to work late at night"
5Original was "Kkkkk" or "ka", this is the sfx for a knife swishing. Anyone has a better sfx, feel free to tell.
6 Black Ma.s.s
7Yes, it's "suspecting", and you'll see why later next chapter.
8我们一间，他们一间，喔喔，我们做 爱，他们搅基……. If anyone has a better translation, please do share. 

Thank you so much to everyone who helped with this chapter!!! And thanks for reading, guys!

Next chapter starts uhhh…pseudo-s.e.x, I guess? Not sure what it'd be called, but, well…