<VESSEL>Extinction Countdown 999: Ashen Boy

Prologue

Humans possess seven emotions and six desires.

They gather and part, unite and sunder.

They experience birth, aging, illness, and death.

A human is a human.

A human is a complex and advanced creature.

Some shelter angels within.

Some harbor demons.And some—imprison only themselves.

But if a person holds nothing inside…

Is that still a human?

And if not—

Then what is it?

# Volume I: Awakening from the Ashes (999–900)

# Extinction Countdown 999: Ashen Boy

The day before Ye Shisan was to start elementary school, his grandfather—the man who raised him—passed away.

Grandfather, a barefoot healer[1] beloved across sprawling villages, was so trusted that patients, with sly grins, often dodged their debts. Ye Shisan, frail from birth, owed his health to the old man’s tonics, brewed to nurture his weak frame. When Grandfather died, the boy felt his world collapse.

Thankfully, his parents journeyed a thousand miles to handle the funeral. His mother was his only true kin; his stepfather, a man she later chose. Grandfather’s legacy—two worn rooms, a scrap of land, and a jumble of apothecary jars—was disposed of by the stepfather for two hundred yuan. As they prepared to leave, six-year-old Ye Shisan clutched the medicine chest tightly, recalling Grandfather’s final words: his illness required years of special tonics, crafted exclusively by the old man, until after he turned ten to be fully cured.

But a child’s resolve falters against adults’ deceit. “Too much to carry,” his stepfather coaxed, “we’ll come back for it.” They never did.

At his parents’ home, a boy burst through the door, landing a sharp slap across Ye Shisan’s face. “Ma! Pa! Is this my new lackey?” he shouted.

His mother’s face darkened, but she said nothing. The stepfather hoisted the boy. “He’s your backup, son. If anyone messes with you, you two take ’em down.” His mother nudged Ye Shisan toward the kitchen. “Shisan, come learn the gas stove.”

Beyond the stove, he learned to tamper with the electric meter, to ration toilet water. Clinging to Grandfather’s words—*A true man never weeps*—Ye Shisan pressed on, day by day.

For seven years, he shed no tears.

By luck, nine years of schooling were free, required for youths. Ye Shisan studied nearby, from elementary to ninth grade. There, a girl caught his eye—bright eyes, a delicate face, a neat ponytail. She was the class beauty, radiant and untouchable.

Ye Shisan wasn’t plain. Tall and lean, with fair skin, he carried a faint scent of herbs—a lingering gift from Grandfather’s tonics, their effect enduring seven years after the last dose. Those who knew him marveled at the old man’s skill, a healer whose brews worked wonders.

The scent meant nothing to Ye Shisan. His heart, empty for seven years, now held a heavy weight. The class flower seemed to notice him, her glances soft—but like the others, she despised him. To them, Ye Shisan was a burden, the family’s scapegoat, the “scholar” his stepfather mocked, fit only to work early and feed the household.

His confession to her failed, her scorn slicing through his chest like a blade, hot blood spilling within. From that moment, he saw her differently—her pale neck, soft flesh, lips red as blood. A twisted urge took root: to cut her open, to admire this vivid flower’s beauty.

One early summer evening, Ye Shisan took a boning knife from home and asked her for “one last talk.” Her venom was no surprise, each word a lash. His face froze. His chest grew cold. His hands turned to ice—but his spine burned, a searing heat. A beast roared within, ready to break free.

In an instant, his vision drowned in a spray of blood.

When he came to, the class flower lay in fragments before him. No fear gripped him—only a fierce, wild thrill, his heart pounding with life. Ye Shisan felt his heart grow heavy again.

Back home, he opened the gas valve, doused the rooms with Erguotou[2], and stood at the center, mimicking his stepfather’s slow draw as he lit his first cigarette. The smoke stung, its sharp taste shooting straight to his head, choking him with coughs. Then, a sudden boom—flames tore through the house, shrieking past doors and windows.

Neighbors washing vegetables outside told reporters and police: “Good grief, that kid burned it all to ash!” “Bloody hell, he walked out of the fire, grinning like a madman!” “Don’t make me think about it—that boy’s no human! A devil in human skin, I swear, with eyes glowing red!”

Ye Shisan felt a pang of loss. He stood alive, unburned. His heart, once full, felt empty again.

[1]barefoot healer: Traditional Chinese rural doctor with minimal formal training, revered for community service.

[2]Erguotou: A strong Chinese liquor made from fermented sorghum.

This work is a side story set within the V-Universe (VONVERSE), a fictional world developed by the author VON. It belongs to a newly invented literary genre: Transcendental Constructive Fiction (TCF) - also known as「超架空系」.

To learn more, please visit our official website at www.vonverse.world.

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[Where science bends, and myth constructs.]