Dracula

“Grandma, Grandma!” Xiangxiang’s terrified cries came through the phone.

“Stop shouting, I’m not your grandma.” Wen Yiqian rubbed his ear.

The only advantage of this old-fashioned phone was its volume.

“Who are you?” A hoarse voice suddenly cut in from the other end of the line.

“The one you saw on the bus today.” Wen Yiqian got straight to the point. “Aren’t you looking for me?”

“Hehehe…” A strange laugh came through. “It seems you’re not entirely stupid.”

“How should I address you?” Wen Yiqian’s lips curled slightly, a hint of disdain on his face.

“You can call me… Dracula.” The other party introduced himself with great seriousness.

“Are you a vampire?” Wen Yiqian asked.

“Not yet…” Dracula’s voice carried endless longing. “But I will be soon!”

“Why?”

“I read it in an ancient book.” Dracula seemed to have never shared this with anyone before. Like a man who had finally found an outlet, he spoke without stopping. “The book records that by drinking the blood of ten people with extreme yin energy, one can become a vampire, an immortal being who never ages!”

“Was that ancient book written…” Wen Yiqian asked with a serious expression, “…in Chinese or English?”

“Chinese. Is there a problem?” Dracula sounded puzzled.

“Then why would you become a vampire instead of a jiangshi?” Wen Yiqian asked curiously.

”…” Dracula fell silent.

Wen Yiqian’s line of questioning had left him somewhat speechless.

Shouldn’t an ordinary person’s first concern in a situation like this be whether any of it was even true?

Asking whether vampires actually exist in this world would be the normal train of thought, right?

“What’s the difference between a vampire and a jiangshi?” Dracula asked.

“You’ve asked the right person. Since you haven’t written novels, you might not understand.” Wen Yiqian spoke with great authority. “Vampires originate from the West. They have agile limbs, fear sunlight, garlic, and crosses, and they can speak.”

“Jiangshi, on the other hand, are native to our land. They have stiff limbs, can only hop around, cannot speak, and require tools like black dog blood and peach wood swords to deal with them.”

“Of course, besides these two, there’s another branch: zombies.”

“Do you understand zombies? The kind you see in movies…”

“Shut up!” Seeing that the other party showed no sign of stopping, Dracula could no longer contain himself and roared. “In a situation like this, if you keep talking to me about jiangshi and zombies, I’ll turn this little girl into a dried corpse right now!”

“Didn’t you ask? I was just answering your question diligently.” Wen Yiqian snorted lightly and pursed his lips.

“Enough. I don’t want to waste words with you.” Dracula’s heavy breathing came through the phone. “I just need to drink the blood of two more people with extreme yin energy, and I can become a true jiang… vampire!”

“Jiang-vampire?”

“Shut up!” Dracula, furious and humiliated, roared hoarsely with everything he had. “Now, immediately, go find these two people with extreme yin energy and bring them to me.”

He continued, “Otherwise, this little girl will die very… cough, cough, cough.”

By the end of his roar, his throat couldn’t take it anymore. He kept coughing, then simply hung up.

Wen Yiqian looked at the phone, sighed softly, and dialed again.

“What do you want?” Dracula’s anger hadn’t subsided, his tone extremely impatient.

“At least tell me what an ‘extremely yin person’ is,” Wen Yiqian said with a helpless expression.

Dracula: ”…”

In a dim, enclosed space, Dracula stared coldly at the little girl before him.

Xiangxiang looked terrified, her face all scrunched up, wanting to cry but not daring to.

“Don’t worry, I won’t drink your blood now,” Dracula said with a strange laugh. “Once I become a vampire, you’ll be my first delicious meal!”

“I wet the bed just last night. It’s very smelly, not tasty,” Xiangxiang said, curling up with an earnest expression.

Dracula fell silent for a moment. Then his phone rang.

“Did you find the person I need?” he said coldly, checking the number.

“Yeah.” Wen Yiqian’s voice sounded quite cheerful, as if he had just done something thoroughly enjoyable. “I’ll send you a photo.”

A text message arrived on Dracula’s phone almost immediately.

He switched over and opened it.

In the photo, Wen Yiqian was smiling and making a peace sign. Behind him on the ground lay a man. The man clutched his chest, his face contorted with pain, his clothes stained red with blood.

“How about it?” Wen Yiqian’s voice came through the phone as if seeking praise. “I specifically had someone check: this is the last extremely yin person left in all of Ditan City. I had a hard time finding him.”

“Are you insane?” Dracula shouted. “I told you to bring him to me, not to kill him!”

He gripped his own arm, his face crazed. “If he dies, the blood won’t be fresh anymore. It won’t have any effect!”

“It’s fine, no rush. If he’s dead, he’s dead.” Wen Yiqian’s voice was perfectly indifferent. “I’ll slowly find another one for you. But since there are no more extremely yin people in Ditan City, I’ll have to go to other cities. Give me a few more days.”

“I don’t have time…” Dracula roared, then the coughing took over. “Cough, cough, cough…”

“Then what should we do?” Wen Yiqian sounded almost panicked. “Should I bring him to you?”

He paused. “But carrying a dying person isn’t very convenient. What if he dies halfway?”

“Where are you?” Dracula looked at the blood he had coughed onto his hand, his eyes filled with madness.

“In the alley next to Jiawangfu Supermarket on Caiyun Road.”

“No matter what method you use, do not let him die before I arrive. Otherwise, you know the consequences.”

Dracula hailed a taxi and arrived at the location as quickly as he could.

He looked at the long, dark alley beside the supermarket, then stepped inside without hesitation.

Walking all the way in, he soon spotted a man lying on the ground, chest soaked red with blood.

The same man from the photo.

Dracula could no longer hold himself back. He lunged forward eagerly, pressed his hands against the wound, and began drinking in a frenzy.

After a moment, he paused. He slowly raised his head and savored the taste lingering in his mouth.

Then he dipped a finger into the blood pooled on the man’s body, brought it to his lips, and said with an uncertain expression, “This blood… why does it taste a bit strange?”

“What’s strange about it?” a voice said suddenly from behind.

Dracula stiffened, then immediately turned his head.

A figure walked up beside him from behind, crouched down, and dipped a finger into the blood before putting it in their mouth.

“This ketchup tastes quite authentic, doesn’t it?”

(End of Chapter)