Chapter 15

That night, Han Shu dreamed that there was a gun pressed against his temple, and she was slapping him.

—Slap Wen Zhiyu in the face.

The man in black said menacingly, "Don't stop!"

Han Shu burst into tears, "I don't want to stop either, but my arm really hurts so much..."

The gun barrel suddenly thrust forcefully, causing Han Shu to turn her head to the side. Startled, she quickly shut her mouth, used all her strength, endured the muscle soreness, swung her arm, and slammed it towards Wen Zhiyu's innocent yet hateful handsome face.

"Smack!"

Han Shu woke up.

She rolled from her back to her side, grabbed her right wrist with her left hand, and slid her arm onto the mattress like she was moving pieces of a corpse. While massaging her muscles, she thought to herself, "If there were any more lactic acid, I could smell it."

I did have a wonderful dream.

Yesterday, Wen Zhiyu really kept her entertained all day long. Even at 11 p.m., when her eyelids were drooping, she still wasn't done playing...

He should open a kindergarten instead of a bed and breakfast!

Han Shu did things in his dream that he dared not do in reality. He closed his eyes to rest and repeatedly savored the experience.

"Buzz!"

I had just dozed off when my phone vibrated beside my pillow.

Han Shu opened one eye. On the screen was a number that was both unfamiliar and somewhat familiar. She pressed answer, "Hello?"

"Hello, I am the owner of the car that was hit by a tree—no, the owner of the car that was hit by a tree."

Upon hearing the voice, Han Shu immediately remembered, "Oh, hello, is there anything I can help you with?"

"It's like this." The car owner chuckled awkwardly. "I contacted the insurance company, but they need to find out the extent of the flooding beforehand. The tram system is completely paralyzed, I can't see anything here, and I can't contact any friends on Hainan Island... I was wondering if you happen to be nearby, and if it's convenient, could you take a couple of photos for me?"

Sleepiness slipped away.

Han Shu got out of bed, drew back the curtains, and looked outside—the sky was a clear, azure blue, without a single cloud. Soft sunlight bathed every inch of her skin, even fading the lividity.

The car owner, as if sensing something from a telepathic connection, added: "I think it's sunny on Hainan Island today, and the floodwater on the roads seems to have been cleared up."

Han Shu stretched and, seeing the weather, decided to go out for a walk, so he agreed.

"Convenient. Is it enough to just take a picture?"

"Thank you, thank you so much, young lady." The car owner breathed a sigh of relief. "Just take some photos of the exterior, and then some of the interior and the driver's seat. Please send the photos to my WeChat account; this is the phone number."

"Okay, no problem." Han Shu walked into the bathroom, avoiding Da Mi's python coiling around his leg. "The water was quite deep a few days ago, so it's probably a bit serious. You still need to deal with it as soon as possible."

"I still have some work to do, and my flight arrives tomorrow." The car owner smiled deeply. "Thank you."

After hanging up the phone, Han Shu quickly washed up and ate breakfast. He left a note for Wen Zhiyu's breakfast in the refrigerator, and had Mi's breakfast delivered to his home. Then he went out with a triumphant air.

She took a deep breath of the fresh air after the rain, feeling her pores, which had been wrinkled from being damp for so long, relax and feel much better—even her resentment towards Wen Zhiyu subsided considerably.

Han Shu walked back the way she came through the alley, across the tree-lined path under the coconut palms, and returned to that pivotal crossroads in her life. That stretch of road had once driven her to despair and collapse, but after the storm, it was a smooth and easy path.

In just ten minutes, we arrived at our destination.

She reached out and touched the back of the car, sighing in despair, "Are you still breathing? Can you still be saved?"

As the floodwaters receded, a muddy mark running across the taillights was glaringly obvious, like a wound. Looking at the front of the car, a tree branch, embedded in the windshield and then blown down by the typhoon, left cracks of varying density across the glass. Inside, the obviously expensive seats were completely soaked, and the center console was covered in mud – a shocking sight.

Han Shu walked around the car, took photos and videos, and then sent them to the car owner via WeChat.

Two words were sent at the same time.

My condolences.

At the same time, Wen Zhiyu suddenly opened his eyes, turned over and sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face deeply in his palms, and fell into heavy breathing. His thin back was like a fully drawn bow, taut and trembling, as if it would bend over if it were even a millimeter longer.

Since he put this realistic novel on the agenda, he has started having the same dream frequently, returning to that spiral staircase that seems to have no end.

Color, sound, smell, touch...

The train of thought cuts through the void, running desperately in the opposite direction, but it can never return to the starting point.

After a long while, Wen Zhiyu picked up his phone and dialed Qin Jianling's number.

"Finally, you called back? But it's alright, I've already sent someone to—"

"Jianling," Wen Zhiyu said softly, "I still can't write a single word."

Qin Jianling's originally cheerful tone suddenly changed, "If you can't write it, then don't. You're not good at realistic themes anyway, so why force yourself?"

A feeling of stagnation trapped in his lungs made Wen Zhiyu unable to relieve the tightness in his chest no matter how deep he took a breath. "This story is my only writing goal. I must write it."

silence.

After a long pause, Qin Jianling asked, "Have you been keeping a good routine lately? Have you done anything to regulate your emotions?"

"The daytime was fine." Wen Zhiyu's lifeless black eyes stirred with emotion. Although his voice still carried the hoarseness of a nightmare, his tone was like a child showing off a new toy. "I played games!"

Qin Jianling chuckled, "What game? Pocket jump or paper boat making?"

"No," Wen Zhiyu said. "The game is called 'Egg Slapping.' It involves placing an egg on top of a plastic bowl, and two people take turns slapping it, picking it up, etc..."

With the professional expertise of a writer, he provided an extremely detailed explanation of the game rules and recounted the highlights of the game.

After listening, Qin Jianling concluded, "...Your tenant is indeed quite strange."

After recalling the events, Wen Zhiyu was in a great mood. He stopped sitting on the edge of the bed pretending to be a "thinker" and happily drew back the curtains. Then his hand froze, and he muttered to himself, "...The sky is clear."

"Yes, I see netizens on Hainan Island spreading the good news everywhere," Qin Jianling said. "That's great news! You should go out and get some sun too. Don't be like a vampire, you know you're calcium deficient and have osteoporosis?"

Human joys and sorrows are not shared.

Wen Zhiyu said dejectedly, "My tenant is leaving soon."

"We've been here for five days already, and the seven-day check-out period is almost up. They haven't said when we can check out?"

"I don't know, she didn't say."

Wen Zhiyu thought for a moment, "Seven days, that's still two days short."

Make the most of the last few minutes to play as many games as possible.

He rushed into the bathroom, saying, "I have to go now, I have something to do."

Qin Jianling was already used to his emotional rollercoaster. She delivered the information at top speed and in the calmest tone, "My plane lands on Hainan Island tomorrow night. Get your bank card ready to compensate me for the car. As for the novel, try using pen and paper—your own old method from five years ago. If you still don't have inspiration, then it's just not the right time. Don't be impatient."

Wen Zhiyu nodded in agreement, but his mind was actually full of thoughts about what to do today.

After hanging up the phone, he quickly washed up and went downstairs.

Han Shu wasn't in the living room, nor in the dining room. He knocked on the bedroom door, but no one answered.

Where are they?

Wen Zhiyu walked straight to the door and opened the guest shoe cabinet—pink slippers and gray slippers were side by side, but the sandals that Han Shu had brought that day were not there.

The person has gone out.

His expectations were dashed. He slammed the cabinet door shut, dragged his laptop down, and grabbed a notebook and pen. He sat down on the coffee table—just in time to see the security door.

We were supposed to play games! Why did she go out? She broke her promise! How could she be so mean! He absolutely has to beat her in today's game! She still hasn't told us what we're going to play? Will it be fun? Ugh, when is she coming back?!

After taking photos, Han Shu went to the nearest beach. The water was a bit murky after the rain, not as clear as usual, but with a more desolate, almost melancholic, quality – a rare sight. Having eaten a hearty breakfast, she stayed a little longer, not heading back until after 4 PM.

Just as I arrived at the villa's entrance and was about to push the door open, a gentle middle-aged woman's voice came from behind me.

"Miss, are you a guest or Xiao Wen's girlfriend?"

Hearing the first half of the sentence, Han Shu was about to say yes, but upon hearing the second half, she stumbled and missed a step. Turning around, she saw a kind and gentle auntie smiling at her.

Han Shu waved his hands repeatedly, "No, no, no, I'm a guest."

The aunt suddenly realized, and walked into the yard with practiced ease, turning back to greet her, "You moved in before the typhoon, didn't you?"

Han Shu guessed that this was probably Wen Zhiyu's aunt, and obediently followed, "Yes, she stayed here the day before the typhoon landed."

Are you settling in well?

"The auntie I'm used to."

"That's good." The aunt stopped in the yard, looked around at the mess and sighed, "It needs to be cleaned up properly... I'll go to your room first. I haven't been here for the past few days, so please clean it up by yourself."

Han Shu felt a little embarrassed and said, "Don't bother Auntie."

The aunt feigned displeasure, "How is this troublesome?"

"We really don't need the cleaning lady. I'm checking out tomorrow morning, and cleaning today would just add to my workload—"

Beep beep!

The security door opened from the inside, and Wen Zhiyu appeared in his black loungewear. His eyes were half-closed, sunlight casting shadows in his eye sockets, his pale skin as fragile as porcelain. His voice shattered along with it.

Wen Zhiyu's voice was low and hoarse.

He asked in a declarative tone, "You're leaving tomorrow."