Chapter 25
Ward left without a sound after that conversation. My shadow, stretched long by the light, was wide enough for an unsuspecting person to step on it; if the story were true, I could easily feel the pain. But now, there must be many little creatures stepping on it too. Their footsteps are light and joyful, leaving a long trail behind me, with some clever ones choosing to glide over their heads.
The simple lines were hard for me to discern in the darkness. A few playfully landed on my head, jostling each other, trying to monopolize the space. I waved my hand above my head, signaling them to stop their antics.
I've never investigated where they came from, even though it seems no one can see them. They always appear when I'm alone, and occasionally, unable to resist, they'll send a few to stay near me. They were there when Xavier drove me home last time. He didn't see them; instead, they became furious, trying to pull his hair and tug at his face, but all in vain.
I almost laughed when I saw it. Xavier saw my smiling face and laughed too: "Is what I'm saying really that funny? Looks like I have a talent for being a comedian."
To be fair, he's more suited to be a radio host. So I came to my senses and said sincerely, "Although I believe you would be successful in any industry, you should still rely on your own strengths."
Now it was his turn to laugh. He laughed for a long time in the night, his beautiful eyes glistening with tears: "Every time I talk to Qinghe, I feel that my cultivation is still not up to par. I wish I could be like you."
I don't care about other people's goals, but I can't abandon the senior who helped me and leave him ignored. Confused, I asked, "You're already amazing. Where do you want to be like me?"
He moved closer to me naturally, his purple eyes gleaming with a honey-like light. Before I could even hear his voice, my gaze was drawn to what was etched onto his face. Black lines crisscrossed his face, completely unnoticed by others. I tried to suppress my laughter, but felt that if I held on for another second, I probably wouldn't be able to hold back.
Xavier wiped his face, puzzled. "Is there something on my face?" He looked at me and sighed softly and helplessly. "Well, it seems I won't be able to share with you, Qinghe, what I'm supposed to learn from you. Be careful on your way home, see you tomorrow."
He reached out to straighten my collar and then hugged me. I hugged him back, and the little creatures hugged me back, their dense, ticklish touch making me tingle.
However, my expression didn't change at all. I didn't laugh.
Besides this, there is actually an even more important reason. When I no longer hid the fact that I knew I had a seed within me, I stepped into the story of this world. This is evident in my ability to naturally accept all supernatural events and special people. When I no longer hid myself and discovered them, it became very difficult for me to detach myself from this story. The most prominent characteristic was that I would always involuntarily immerse myself in my life within this world. And when I learned their race or name, I would inevitably face a future that I could not yet imagine.
There's no scientific basis for this; it could just be my imagination. Perhaps I suffered from paranoia before it appeared here. But being cautious isn't wrong, so I don't care whether Ward told me its real name or not.
I looked down at my palm, trying to stare a hole through it. It was hard to imagine that such fair skin, lean flesh, and hard bones could harbor a seed. That seed would not sprout, would not grow; its grayish-brown shell tightly encased the tender flesh inside.
It is as if it is dead, yet it can still bring life to all things.
I sighed softly, withdrew my hand, and prepared to watch my step. The residential area wasn't far off; I just needed to keep walking along this road. They were gone too; the night was too deep. Perhaps their world, like a university, had curfews. The night wind blew along this road where I was the only one left, making me shiver—or perhaps that wasn't entirely true.
I looked towards the roadside and saw a group of people drinking together. Their appearance was abrupt; I hadn't seen three people sitting there before, but I couldn't be sure I had noticed them earlier. I just hoped they weren't low-class men who might stalk or even molest others while drunk, otherwise I'd be worried about the safety of this city.
I walked forward with my head down. The aroma of wine followed me everywhere.
I quickened my pace, the aroma of the liquor growing stronger. I wished I had superhuman speed; roller skates would be perfect, or even Nezha's Wind Fire Wheels. The smell of alcohol was so close it filled my nostrils, and before I knew it, I was sitting down with them.
I:"……"
I wanted to get up and leave, but my legs wouldn't move. I almost thought I was still dreaming, yet I knew clearly that I had already woken up in my hospital bed.
I stared silently at the wine bottle in front of me: "..."
The three men drank by themselves. They poured themselves a glass, and then none of them poured me one. After pouring, they ignored me and just kept drinking. I was worried that the drinks were drugged, so I secretly observed their faces, trying to gain their trust by doing so.
The man sitting to my left couldn't be seen by face. He was backlit and always had his head down, habitually covering his face when drinking. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, which I could barely make out was navy blue in the dim light, with white stripes on the chest, probably letters.
He drank the most heavily, without stopping. The liquor seemed like water in his hands, but even water shouldn't be drunk like that, one glass after another. His lifeless hair clung limply to his scalp and cheeks, and his ears were burning red from drinking.
The man sitting to my right had clearly visible wrinkles on his face, never easing, even when he was drinking. He wore an old man's undershirt, shorts, and flip-flops, with peanuts closest to him as his snack. He drank heartily, tilting his head back and downing his drink in one gulp. After each drink, he would sit there in deep thought, his brow furrowing even more tightly.
However, I guess his confusion is just the repeated recollection after blacking out from drinking, otherwise it's hard to explain why it takes him about the same amount of time to figure things out each time.
The man sitting across from me had slanted eyes, a pointed chin, and a thin upper lip compared to a thick lower lip. He had clearly visible freckles on his face, and unlike the two men beside him, he drank in a typical manner, taking a sip and then eating a peanut. His glass was always half full, as if it would never run out, yet also as if there would always be more.
He looked troubled, but this trouble didn't stem from his two drinking buddies. I watched him sigh, drink, and eat peanuts. As he drank, the liquor would drip from the corner of his mouth onto the floor, not a drop wasted.
For some inexplicable reason, after observing them, I wasn't afraid of them at all. I knew it was that special force at work again, but I really didn't have any other way to deal with it right now. Since I couldn't run away anyway, I might as well drink the wine in front of me.
Without hesitation, I picked up my glass and downed it in one gulp. After three glasses, I saw all three men looking at me. Only then did I see their eyes clearly; they were all cloudy and deep.
They watched me without moving, and I watched them without moving, trying to remain unchanged in the face of all changes.
them:"……"
The person on my left made the first move. He got me a new glass and filled it a third full. The person on my right also got a new glass and filled it a third full. The person opposite me repeated this action, and then the two of them poured their newly poured wine into the glass in front of the person opposite me. Seeing that the glass was full, the person held it out to me with satisfaction.
Up to this point, we haven't exchanged a single word. It's like a pantomime, but with limited expressions and movements; like a silent film, but without interludes to explain things to the audience. Under their silent gaze, I inexplicably picked up my glass again and sniffed it.
The exact same aroma of wine.
I scattered it all on the ground.
The people disappeared, along with the wine and glasses, the tables and chairs, the peanuts, and the plates that held them.
I don't think today is a day to commemorate ancestors, nor is it the legendary Ghost Festival. I thought I was seeing things, hallucinating, but the faint bitterness of the wine in my mouth wouldn't go away.
I stood there, stunned, for a moment, then started walking in the direction I had come from. I hadn't gone five meters when I looked back, wondering if the three men were still there.
No.
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