Chapter 51
This time he didn't smile; his brows furrowed, and he began to ponder the question.
My feelings were comparable to those of a patient who asked, "Doctor, how serious is my illness?" but didn't receive a reply within five seconds. I was terrified that the countdown would end with, "Haha, sorry, I was distracted. You were supposed to live for ten, now it's five."
“It’s just drinking,” said Shimoyama Naruyu. “I haven’t drunk alcohol in a long time.”
It turns out it was "Haha, sorry, I was daydreaming. Your illness... isn't an illness."
I didn't laugh, anyway.
I brushed aside the doctor who had suddenly appeared, and he placed two paper cups and a bottle of wine in front of me, the manufacturer and production date of which were indiscernible. The clear, water-like liquid rippled in the cups, reminding me of the newly brewed wine in poems, but it was far inferior to the processing of that time. However, if it were to snow outside the window, it might suit the tastes of this slanted-eyed man.
It didn't smell of alcohol at all. I asked suspiciously, "Is this some kind of high-class liquor that I can't afford? It even smells like water?"
Shuangshan Mingyu gave me a speechless look: "I kindly brought you some good wine to cheer you up. If you continue to be so ungrateful, next time it won't be as simple as just letting you drink an alcoholic mint-flavored beverage."
He downed the liquid in his glass in one gulp. His eyes didn't change, nor did his expression. I thought this was quite ordinary.
"Oh," I said, "you actually noticed."
He seemed quite displeased with my calm demeanor and said irritably, "What else? You're practically hanging a white cloth over your head to symbolize your impending death. And let me tell you, that's the most detestable thing in the world. I would hate you very easily. But I'm in a good mood right now and want to give you a hand, so I'll let you drink this wine that hasn't been touched for thousands of years."
He said to me as if he were showing off: "This grain was washed by water from the heart of the Lun River, which was personally taken by the dragon. It was soaked in the Ying River of Qingqiu for a hundred years, then fermented with the Yuan River for a lifetime. It grew with the Fusang tree in Tang Valley for nine hundred years and was exposed to the sun for ten days. Finally, it was sprinkled with sweet dew by a willow branch, and that's how this small bottle came to be."
I cautiously asked him, "Is the food still safe to eat?"
“This isn’t rice wine, and you’re expected to get some kind of ingredient. Grain eventually dissolves into water; according to you, the process of grain disappearing is called ‘decay.’” A faint blush appeared on Shuangshan Mingyu’s face. “It’s just ‘condensation’! You really have no appreciation skills… Since ancient times…”
His voice lowered. I asked again, "But according to you, it's only been a thousand years, so how can you say it's been several thousand years?"
Shuangshan Mingyu stared at me intently for a long while with his hazy, drunken eyes. Only when I tried to look away did he slowly say, "The people outside are waiting, the things inside are waiting, all things in heaven and earth are waiting. More than a few thousand years! What has passed within its belly is longer than the days when the sun hangs high in the sky!"
The sun has always been in the Milky Way, and to this day, it has never parted from the universe. I remained silent, and simply followed his example, downing my drink in one gulp. The crisp sweetness soothed my throat; no one would doubt that it was a glass of wine. Unlike any sweet drink popular in the market, it was more like a mirage. The flavor didn't linger, vanishing in the blink of an eye, just like a mirage. Reflecting on it, only a watery sensation remained in my mouth, yet my heart understood the unique, intoxicating quality it contained.
After a glass of wine, I found myself somewhat absent-minded.
Looking at Shimoyama Naruyuki, who was already engrossed in his own amusement, I hesitated for a long time, but still asked him with a glimmer of hope: "If someone told you that you might be the one to save the world, or that if you didn't take on this responsibility, countless reserves would take on the pain for you... but you don't even know how to help everyone here... what would you do, Mr. Shimoyama?"
Afraid he wouldn't understand me, I broke down each word and read it aloud. Perhaps he could offer me a solution, or perhaps I would only hear a string of meaningless snores, but he just stared at me intently, his almost amber eyes slightly narrowed.
My heart skipped a beat.
Frost Mountain Mingyu said slowly, "There's no need to pretend to formally call me by my name. But," he thought for a moment, "I'm quite interested in your question. Well, you could say that this is something I've always researched?"
He grinned at me and said, "But I can't solve your problem. You should hear another story: about the world, about why the situation you're describing exists."
“I know your school started a savior major, but nobody enrolls, and you don’t want to either. It started at the same time as your major, and so far, there are zero students. Am I right? Eretic…” The name seemed a bit of a tongue twister for him. “It’s a good school, with a focus on mysticism. You’ve caught a good wave, although I think it’s barely passable.”
Shuangshan Mingyu patted my shoulder and pouted, "Savior... what a great and innocent word. It makes countless people rush forward, makes countless people believe that if they persevere, there will be hope, and makes countless people look forward to the spring flowers blooming tomorrow. Maybe they really do bloom, but they can't see it, and under normal circumstances, even the savior himself can't see it."
"Common vocabulary. This world, people and people, people and any life, any life and any life, they are all made up of 'fate'. Fate is one word, fortune is another. Most of the time we cannot change the end of fate, but through fortune, we can improve everything we experience in the middle of fate."
"The world doesn't create things it doesn't recognize. Why does the whole world rely on fate? Because the world also possesses fate. You think there's another dimension, so you throw a tennis ball into it, thinking no one will be hit. But it turns into someone being hit on the head by a flying soccer ball, or rain wetting a cat's nose and quickly soaking its entire body. This is called 'cause and effect.' The cause is that you see the 'other dimension' as your own backyard, without considering whether it's a storage bag or connected to another world. And so you get the effect: you hit someone."
"But suppose this cat was watching two girls walk home from school from afar, and they weren't looking this way, ignoring the cat king. The cat suddenly became very angry for no reason; it just wanted the two girls to pet it. So it approached, and just then it started raining. One of the girls was allergic to cat fur, but still left an umbrella for the cat. A beautiful, transparent umbrella with all sorts of colorful patterns. The cat stood under the umbrella, and the rain didn't wet its nose first; it didn't get wet at all. That's luck."
"But there was nothing we could do. Another group of bad boys came along. They took pleasure in bullying poor little animals, so they snatched the umbrella and ruined it in the rain. The cat stood alone in the rain, not understanding why its beautiful little roof had disappeared. It was quickly soaked and ran away in a sorry state. That's fate."
Frost Mountain Mingyu sighed: "The life of this world is dead. It has reached the end of its life and is now only maintained by the luck accumulated over its long life. No one can do anything about it. Its life is dead, and it is now struggling to maintain its life through luck. If someone could transfer their luck to a new life, there might still be a chance, but it's impossible."
He raised a glass to the silence that had filled the room, and I didn't want to know how much trouble it would be to clean up. He poured me another glass, but didn't drink any himself. He looked directly into my eyes, and I realized that the house, which he hadn't seemed inclined to turn on the lights since we came in, was actually quite bright—so bright that I could see my own silhouette in his eyes.
He solemnly declared, "There's no way to graft luck onto others, nor is there a way to extend life. These are all the work of evil magic, and the consequences are not to be underestimated. So, throw away your pointless fantasies!" He suddenly shouted with exhilaration, "Give those lines where you pretend to be a hero back to your chuunibyou games, and forget about everything else!"
I didn't want to get involved. I covered my ears, pretending I didn't know this person who might disturb the peace. I thought sadly, even if I had a hundred years, a thousand years, or even a billion years, I would never have considered becoming the savior of the world.
Frost Mountain Mingyu began to roll on the ground, groaning. His face was flushed, and his opening and closing mouth seemed to be pleading softly. Why was he doing this? Was he always like this when he was drunk? Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and I saw him half-open one eye as he spoke to me. Actually, I couldn't tell if he was singing or something else.
"Who can we trust anymore? Who can we trust anymore?"
"The albatross is like a reed, and the white-headed bird is like a mourning cap."
"What a memorable time it was! But once war broke out, the Ming Dynasty retreated to the west."
"The girl wearing flowers in her hair. The wild goose wearing flowers in its hair."
"You haven't even looked back yet..."
The sounds gradually subsided. I waited a few minutes, and when he stopped responding, I dragged him to the sofa and used the small blanket that had become a cushion as a blanket to make a makeshift warm nest for him.
I hope he won't yell at me when he wakes up tomorrow morning. Glancing at the untouched glass of wine out of the corner of my eye, I picked up the paper cup anyway, intending to take it home.
I think I'm a little drunk. I'm so drunk I can't tell people apart anymore.
Maybe he's been drunk all along. Who knows?
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