Chapter 4: - Seven Demon Kings!

If Zheng Fan had not already been sitting in a chair, he believed he would have fallen straight to the floor.

This was Feng Siniang.

The genuine article.

Then... where exactly was he now?

“Master is awake. Master, you’re finally awake. I’ve waited half a year for you.”

Beautiful women were beautiful even when they cried, just as a genuinely handsome man was still handsome with a buzz cut.

Feng Siniang was long past being some young girl, but the mature allure she carried was something those younger girls could never imitate.

She had been a character created by Qin Siyao. When Qin Siyao first designed her, she had only just entered university.

Perhaps young women were always eager to shed their immaturity. They learned makeup and fashion so they could make themselves appear more mature as quickly as possible. Then, once women truly grew older, they often did everything they could to make themselves look young again.

When Qin Siyao designed and drew Feng Siniang, she had probably poured into the character a young woman’s fantasy of what a mature, commanding beauty should be.

And because that fantasy had come from a girl’s perspective, it had worked remarkably well.

“Master, when Little Yun came to tell me just now, I didn’t believe her. I truly didn’t dare believe it. No, no, I was afraid that little brat was fooling me and I’d end up rejoicing for nothing again.”

Feng Siniang walked directly up to Zheng Fan.

Whoomph.

She pulled him into her arms.

Yes.

It was not Zheng Fan, the man, embracing Feng Siniang.

He was the one being embraced.

Then again, given how weak Zheng Fan’s body was at the moment, there was no chance he could have supported the weight of a mature woman. Feng Siniang was fairly tall as well, not the petite type.

It was not that Zheng Fan was being timid, nor could he be blamed for overthinking.

Qin Siyao’s comic had simply contained far too much material, and Zheng Fan himself had helped her flesh out plenty of later plotlines. He knew Feng Siniang’s character almost too well.

“Come, Master. If they know you’ve woken up, they’ll definitely be happy too.”

Feng Siniang gently helped Zheng Fan to his feet.

“Helped” was perhaps too mild a word.

In practice, she was almost carrying him upright.

They?

Who were they?

Completely confused, Zheng Fan let Feng Siniang half-carry him out of the room and into a small courtyard.

There was only a well and a loquat tree in the yard. The space itself was not large.

The layout seemed to be a storefront in front with living quarters behind it. The two-story building ahead was probably the business premises, while the small rear courtyard and row of single-story rooms served as employee housing.

In spirit, it was not so different from a modern shop with the business downstairs and sleeping quarters upstairs.

Just before leaving the courtyard and entering the front hall, Feng Siniang stopped.

Still supporting Zheng Fan, she guided his gaze into one of the small rooms.

The doorway was narrow and the interior dim.

In the little light that reached inside, several layers of wine jars could be seen stacked against the walls.

It was probably a wine cellar.

A man in a tailcoat stood before an opened jar of wine.

He held a long-handled ladle in one hand, as though tasting the wine or perhaps checking its quality.

A tailcoat.

A thoroughly modern style of clothing.

The girl who had wiped Zheng Fan’s body earlier had clearly been dressed like someone from ancient China. The contrast with the man before him was rather severe.

Of course, Zheng Fan had not yet stopped to consider that the hoodie and boots he himself was wearing were equally modern and every bit as out of place.

“A’Ming! Master is awake! Master really woke up!”

Feng Siniang called excitedly toward the man inside.

A’Ming.

A’Ming?

A’Ming!

Could it be...

The man in the tailcoat took several steps toward the entrance with the long-handled wine ladle still in his hand.

At last, his face became clear.

It was extraordinarily pale, almost like one of those powdered young noblemen from old times. Yet compared with any ordinary fop, there was something much more uncanny about the man standing before them.

His tailcoat was also obviously old and worn. Several places had been visibly patched.

A’Ming.

It really was A’Ming!

Zheng Fan had drawn this face many times.

During the three years after the studio dissolved, he had spent a small portion of his time drawing marketable comics to raise the money for his euthanasia in the Netherlands.

Most of the rest of his time had gone into continuing the unfinished works his old friends had abandoned.

The vampire A’Ming.

He was here too!

At that moment, Zheng Fan finally began to understand what Feng Siniang had meant when she said “they.”

In this world, there was not merely Zheng Fan and Feng Siniang.

There were others.

Other protagonists from their comic stories.

Those... Demon Kings.

Still, a vampire in evening dress standing in a Chinese-style wine cellar with a long-handled ladle in his hand looked more than a little discordant.

His image seemed much better suited to red wine.

A swaying glass of red wine, lips stained like blood...

A’Ming’s gaze settled on Zheng Fan.

He seemed to be examining him carefully.

There was no humility in that examination.

It did not even feel like a gaze between equals.

If anything, there was a faint sense of someone looking down from above.

At least, that was Zheng Fan’s personal impression.

The vampire A’Ming standing before him treated him completely differently from Feng Siniang.

He looked down on him.

A’Ming had been created by Deng Ge.

Deng Ge himself usually appeared carefree and easygoing, but everyone in the studio had known that beneath the surface, the man was proud to the bone.

The facts later proved that he had reason to be proud. After the studio dissolved, two animated films he led became explosive successes, turning him into a prized asset in the eyes of investors.

A’Ming had inherited that part of Deng Ge’s personality.

Unlike Deng Ge, however, he was a comic character and therefore lacked most of the restraints of reality.

In *The Vampire A’Ming*, no matter what opponent he faced, he never softened, never admitted defeat, and never bothered with false politeness.

From beginning to end, he chose only one approach: flip the table and fight head-on.

“Insolent! Why have you not paid respects to Master?”

Feng Siniang’s sharp rebuke rang out.

A’Ming narrowed his eyes slightly.

He placed his right hand over the left side of his chest.

Then lowered his head a fraction.

“Greetings... Master.”

Feng Siniang seemed infuriated by how perfunctory his attitude was.

Afraid Zheng Fan might become angry, she lowered her voice and said:

“Master, ignore him. He’s always had that dead-man temperament. Come. Let’s go out front and see everyone.”

The moment she finished speaking, Feng Siniang hoisted Zheng Fan up again and carried him into the front hall.

The front hall was much larger.

It looked like some strange cross between a dance hall and a traveling stage troupe, though everything was still decorated in an old-fashioned style.

“Oh? What’s this?”

The instant Feng Siniang and Zheng Fan entered, they heard an exclamation.

Zheng Fan turned his head.

He saw a huge man nearly two meters tall.

The man’s upper body was bare. A massive bundle of firewood was strapped to his back, and a battered woodcutting blade hung at his left hip.

The Woodcutter.

Fan Li!

Xu Qiang’s comic character.

An honest, dull-witted protagonist with almost no sense of fun.

He liked chopping firewood.

He also liked chopping people.

Most of all, he liked hacking people into limbless human stumps and holding them up to admire his handiwork.

“Fan Li pays respects to Master!”

Fan Li’s attitude was far more respectful than A’Ming’s.

He did not even set down the firewood on his back before dropping directly to one knee with complete sincerity.

His voice was thunderously loud, like a public-address speaker.

At that moment, a young man on the stage who had been hammering and chiseling at a large stone suddenly turned around and looked over.

Zheng Fan sensed his gaze and looked back.

For a moment, Zheng Fan’s mind went slightly hazy.

It was almost as though one of his old studio companions had suddenly reappeared in front of him.

Liang Cheng...

No.

He was not Liang Cheng.

He was the zombie character created by Liang Cheng.

It was simply that this character was also named Liang Cheng.

And when designing him, Liang Cheng had deliberately drawn the zombie to resemble himself.

The zombie Liang Cheng rested one hand on the stone.

A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth as he looked toward them.

Toward Zheng Fan.

On the other side of the stage, a dwarf dressed like a clown suddenly let out an exaggerated shriek.

He dropped to his knees right there on the stage.

Half sobbing and half singing, he cried:

“Oh my freaking heavens! Master, you’re finally awake! Your little San’er pays his respects!”

Xue San knelt on one knee.

That much was perfectly clear.

At that moment, a blind man walked in through the doorway.

He was not old.

A bamboo cane rested in one hand, tapping and prodding the ground ahead of him. With the other hand he gripped the doorframe and carefully stepped across the threshold.

Then he smiled and said:

“So lively in here. Did dinner start early?”

[End of Chapter 4]