Chapter Two: Black and Crimson Mist

Mornings for repeat students always began especially early. Because of the school's morning study sessions, some students even started as early as half past six. On a summer morning, Liu Chang opened his bleary eyes, woke the snoring Fatty and the bespectacled boy who’d stayed up all night reading novels, and together they gathered their toiletries and headed to the washroom.

As for the model student Liu Tao, he was already nowhere to be found.

After washing up, Liu Chang walked to the entrance of the dormitory building and immediately caught sight of the hazy sky. In theory, summer mornings rarely saw fog, but in the past two years, there had been mist every morning. This fog always seemed to carry a faint pink hue, giving off a strange feeling.

But anything becomes unremarkable if it lasts long enough. With two years of pink fog and the weather forecast assuring everyone it was just a normal “condensation nuclei” phenomenon, no one paid it any mind—after all, people used to eating gutter oil didn’t fuss over such things.

Stepping out of the dormitory, Liu Chang let himself be swallowed by the mist, breathing in a sweet scent through his nose and mouth. He walked through the fog to his classroom and began another day of study.

Drowsy, drifting, half-awake.

The morning passed in a haze. Liu Chang had no idea what he’d read; he only remembered reading endlessly. The monotony of life made him want to die—he felt that everyone living this repetitive, dull existence was a walking corpse.

He longed for something exciting, something to change his world.

He gazed out the window. The pink fog still hadn’t dissipated, and breakfast passed in a daze. In this fashion, the first class began.

Biology.

Since last year, biology had inexplicably been made a compulsory subject—regardless of academic track. Even stranger, the national exams now assigned biology a full 200 points, overtaking language, math, and English to become the most important subject.

No one had expected this, but the new regulations made biology suddenly crucial.

Fortunately, Liu Chang rather liked biology, so he was more alert for this first period.

“Today we’ll review a key exam topic—the Cambrian Explosion.”

“This has come up every year recently—no amount of review is too much.”

The teacher at the podium was the same young man who’d told Liu Chang and the others to sleep last night—fair-skinned, clean-cut, with narrow black-framed glasses. He didn’t speak much, but he got straight to the point.

“The Cambrian Explosion is one of the ten great mysteries in modern science. You, the classmate beside the one sleeping, wake him up and have him answer what the Cambrian Explosion is.”

The biology teacher pointed to the student next to Liu Chang, who, startled, poked his glasses-wearing desk mate awake.

“The teacher’s asking you a question—what’s the Cambrian Explosion?” Liu Chang nudged him with his elbow and whispered the question.

His dreams disturbed, the bespectacled student reluctantly stood, straightened his glasses, rubbed the creases on his face from sleeping on his arms, and muttered, “The Cambrian Explosion happened, what, hundreds of millions of years ago? It was a sudden burst of evolution in Earth’s life forms. The rate of evolution was millions of times faster than before, I think. Supposedly, there were no higher life forms before, and then suddenly, after that, there were—almost all existing species originated then.”

“How many hundreds of millions of years ago? What forms did life evolve from and to? These are all test points; you have to remember the exact numbers.” The teacher waved him down. “Still, that was a good summary. But remember this: during the Cambrian Explosion, all species evolved at a superluminal rate, and the emergence of new species also occurred at breakneck speed. Virtually all ancestors of present-day species appeared in that era—sponges, cnidarians, chordates, lobopodians, brachiopods, mollusks, arthropods, echinoderms, and so on. Now, all species trace back to that time.”

“Amazing, isn’t it? The Cambrian Explosion is strong evidence against Darwin’s theory of evolution. Even Darwin himself was puzzled by it.”

“Teacher, are you questioning Darwin’s theory of evolution?” From the back of the classroom came a bold voice—it was Liu Tao, the model student.

“Uh, yes, why not?” The bespectacled teacher smiled. “There are three levels of argument—nonsense, theory, and law. Darwin’s evolution is only a theory, not a law. Why can’t we question it? You can question it too—Darwin himself did.”

“Since we’re on the subject, though it’s not on the test, I’ll mention it. It concerns the cause of the Cambrian Explosion.”

“The current mainstream view is that a sudden surge of free oxygen on Earth led to widespread, rapid evolution. But I think that’s full of holes. If it was just oxygen, how could evolution proceed at such a breakneck pace?”

As the teacher spoke, the classroom suddenly grew dim.

“What’s happening?” Liu Chang turned toward the window.

The fog outside had thickened dramatically.

That was the reason for the darkness.

The pink mist, which had lingered since morning, suddenly grew denser, spreading in massive swathes until the entire world outside seemed stuffed with cotton, blocking out all light.

Perhaps because the fog was now so dense, its color shifted from pink to deep red, and then, before their eyes, into a blood-red hue.

Sunlight was completely cut off; the world turned dark.

Or more precisely, it was a darkness tinged with blood-red—a landscape of black and crimson.

This bizarre color sent a chill through Liu Chang. He looked around and saw that, in the classroom’s strange light, every student’s face was washed in black and red, their features blurred and ghostly.

If it were merely darkness, some rowdy students might have shouted or a mischievous boy might have seized the chance to grope a girl, but in this atmosphere, no one dared make a sound.

Everyone had experienced darkness before.

But a blood-red world? No one had ever seen that.

Each student saw terror reflected in the faces around them, and silence gripped the classroom.

“I’ll go ask at the administration office, see what’s going on.” In the heavy atmosphere, the biology teacher was the first to react. He left those words, opened the classroom door, and was instantly swallowed by the crimson fog.

“Look, the fog’s coming in.” The mist was so thick and colored that everyone could clearly see it seeping in through the window cracks and under the door.

The bespectacled boy next to Liu Chang instinctively covered his mouth and nose.

“It shouldn’t be toxic, and even if it is, how long could you hold your breath?” Liu Chang watched the red fog drift toward him, sniffed, and detected a strong, sweet and metallic scent.

“There’s a strange smell!” The classroom, once silent, grew lively as everyone, recovering from shock, began discussing the bizarre weather.

“What on earth is this?”

“Blood-red fog—there must be a lot of traffic accidents out there.”

“The fog is so dense, you can’t see a thing outside!”

“I’ll call home and check on things.” Liu Chang took out his phone and dialed his mother.

All he got was a busy signal—

“I can’t get through!” Liu Chang glanced at the weird fog outside, a wave of panic rising inside him. “Could this stuff even block cell signals?”

“I’m going out to check!” A bold student beside Liu Chang stood up and walked to the door.

His action drew everyone’s attention. Once he stepped outside, the others rushed to the windows to watch.

Visibility was less than five meters. The bold student’s figure faded after just a few steps.

“San’er, don’t go any farther—we won’t be able to see you,” a friend called out.

“Alright! It’s so red out here, I can’t see anything—not even the teachers’ office.” San’er’s voice echoed back, rippling through the mist.

Then—

A response came from above—a flock of sparrows darted through the fog, homing in on the source of the sound.

With a swish—

Normally timid sparrows, now aggressive as bombers, shot straight toward San’er’s face at breakneck speed.

A wet crack—

The first sparrow struck his face with a sound like a smashed tomato, and then the strange splattering noises continued in rapid succession.

Liu Chang stared, wide-eyed, as after the first short scream, San’er’s face was pierced by the sparrows’ sharp beaks, and then the flock descended, tearing into him. In moments, his face was reduced to a mangled pulp.

“Aaah—!” San’er screamed, stumbling and falling under the barrage.

But his cries didn’t last long—soon, perhaps as blood and flesh filled his trachea or mouth, he could no longer scream. Only guttural, choking sounds emanated from his throat.

And those once-docile sparrows, amid the ghastly noises, began feasting on the fresh flesh.

This time, the classroom was truly gripped by terror. Every student was petrified.

Not even in horror movies had they seen anything so dreadful.

A classmate, lively just moments before, now writhed on the ground, while the usually timid sparrows carried out a bloodthirsty massacre. In that moment, no one dared go out to stop the birds—or perhaps, in their panic, no one even thought to try.

Everyone was stunned.

Only when the sparrows, sated, flew away, and the body on the ground ceased to move, did anyone come to their senses.

“Can anyone tell me—what on earth is happening?” The bespectacled boy beside Liu Chang muttered, paralyzed with fear.