VESSEL - Extinction Countdown 964: Matchless Grace

That night, Ye Shisan couldn’t sleep.

Not from the all-night din of A-Qiang’s Game Parlor next door, nor the daytime scorn from his mother and stepfather. For the first time in his life, he’d lost his purpose.

Before seven, Ye Shisan had no grand dreams. A village boy, he thought only of helping Grandpa with farm work and, if possible, doing well in school.

After Grandpa’s death, Ye Shisan joined a new family. His goal: grow up, survive, reach a day when he could stand alone.

But at fourteen, a Heart Demon erupted, stealing that chance. Twenty years in an asylum followed—a strange world of misfits where even a sane Ye Shisan nearly broke.

Leaving at thirty-four, his ambitions were dust. A quiet life seemed the greatest gift fate could grant.

Yet car crashes, surgeries, relapses—a chain of events shattered his peace.

That day in the restaurant with Yi Qing, Ye Shisan, for the first time, clearly saw himself unleash a slaughter.

In his words, the real Ye Shisan lost all control, a mere spectator through his own eyes.

Only Vanilla’s cry—“Uncle Shisan!”—freed him, like a burst dam breaking part of his chains.

In that moment, his vision flared, stretching to three hundred sixty degrees, sensing even behind him—as if odd “things” had sprouted.

“Tendrils,” he called them.

When those tendrils lunged to tear Vanilla apart, Ye Shisan fought with all his strength. Miraculously, he prevailed.

If humans could battle tendrils, Ye Shisan might be the first.

In a dream, Grandpa Ye Dongsheng said a Pseudo-Spirit controlled his body—what mortals call a Heart Demon.

So Ye Shisan planned a lone journey to trace Grandpa’s steps, seeking a cure for the Pseudo-Spirit.

But the women around him wouldn’t leave.

Yi Qing, for one. After quitting, she took a mysterious job—her reason firm: “Keep Ye Shisan alive as long as possible.” Who risks their life for an ordinary man?

You Long’er, Longmen Gate’s heiress. Ye Shisan sensed she stayed to escape her second brother’s hunt. Yet she rebuilt Shisan Bakery and faced a dozen thugs to shield him.

Then there was Vanilla.

Ye Shisan had no such inclinations, but Vanilla stirred an odd fondness—perhaps his childhood self in her small frame, or because she alone stopped his relapse.

Even now, he recalled standing over her bed, boning knife in hand, a devil’s shadow. Had he not snapped awake, Vanilla might’ve…

His thoughts broke as the thin blanket lifted. A small figure slipped into his chest, cool, silky hair brushing his skin, tickling.

Vanilla!

“Shh!”

Her tiny hand pressed his lips, soft and faintly sweet.

“Uncle Shisan, Yi Qing and Long’er are asleep… I can’t sleep without you holding me…”

Vanilla curled against his chest, pulling his arm to hug tight.

In the moonlight through the window, Ye Shisan saw her small head, silver hair flowing, a delicate ear half-hidden in the strands.

His throat caught, words stuck, heart pounding after years of silence.

“Uncle Shisan, I’m not scared of you. Even with the knife, I’m not afraid.”

His scalp burned, mind reeling. “…That night…”

“I was awake. I saw the knife—long, sharp…”

“Vanilla…”

“Uncle Shisan, I know it wasn’t you. I know.”

In that instant, this thirty-four-year-old man’s heart crumbled under a girl’s words. He’d found his anchor, something to protect for life.

But then he thought: Vanilla has parents. She’ll leave someday. A whole, healthy family—her best life—wasn’t his to give.

“Vanilla, I’ll find your family.”

“No, I don’t want to go. Staying with you is enough. Because… I like you!”

Her voice faded, her grip tightening. Then, tiny teeth nipped his arm.

“This is my stamp. You’re mine now…”

Before she finished, a creak came from the floor. Ye Shisan tensed—a thief?

He opened his mouth, but a chill hit his back. The blanket lifted, and something warm pressed against him.

“Ye Shisan, I don’t grovel or apologize,” a voice said. “But tonight, I owe you the truth…”

You Long’er’s voice, but softer. Her usual haughty tone, sharp and commanding, now tender, almost loving.

“I’ll confess: I came back to use you. And that night, we didn’t share a bed…”

Ye Shisan exhaled. Knew it. A decent man like me wouldn’t do that.

“But tonight, we’re sharing one—I’m wearing nothing! Don’t move, or the old lady and kid will catch us!”

You Long’er pinned his shoulders, her lips brushing his earlobe.

“One more confession, Ye Shisan. I think I like you. I’m not sure—it’s new. I’ve never wanted for anything, never liked anyone…”

“But now, I crave being with you, even for one more second. So, I declare: wherever you go, I go. No yelling, no bullying, no ditching me!”

“And—I don’t mind the old lady or the kid staying, but know this: I’m the one who fits you best.”

Her words stopped as a faint scoff came from Ye Shisan’s chest.

You Long’er froze, reached over, and felt Vanilla’s tiny waist.

Before she could erupt, a click—light flooded the room.

The blanket flew off. You Long’er and Vanilla screamed. Yi Qing stood in pajamas, fuming.

“You three have no shame! You Long’er, get dressed! Vanilla, to bed! A big girl needing someone to sleep with—aren’t you ashamed?”

Amid chatter, Yi Qing herded You Long’er and Vanilla upstairs.

She flicked off the light. In the dimness, Ye Shisan saw her lone eye glint oddly.

“Ye Shisan, heaven or hell, fire or blades, you’re not shaking us.”

In that near-dark room, a faint glow bloomed at Yi Qing’s chest, spreading into a galaxy-like form—a strange, thorny flower.