Chapter 145 I Miss You a Little Bit
Jiang Qiu was woken up by the alarm on his cell phone.
The numbers dancing on the screen stung his eyes. The curtains of the rented apartment weren't drawn tightly, and the morning light seeped in through the cracks, casting a pale streak across the floor. He stared at the ceiling for a full three minutes before he slowly realized he was lying on a familiar Simmons bed. It wasn't the bone-chilling cold of a jade bed, but the warmth of the quilt that had covered him all night.
[Fuck, this dream is too damn long.]
He raised his hand to rub the back of his neck. It was smooth, free of the dull ache left by Xie An's knife. He touched his wrist, the skin was delicate and warm, no longer a scar from the chains. Only his heart beat heavily in his chest, as if still lingering the ripping pain of his golden elixir's self-destruction.
The phone rang again. It was a WeChat call from Assistant Director Liu Qiang. Jiang Qiu looked at the name on the screen and muttered to himself: [How come he is the director, not Zhang Chuchu?]
Although he was confused, Jiang Qiu still pressed the answer button. Director Liu Qiang's voice came from the other end, as if notifying him:
"Xiao Jiang, don't be late for the wrap party tonight. 7 o'clock, at the usual barbecue stall."
Jiang Qiu: "Wrap-up party? Is this a misunderstanding? Didn't this costume drama just start filming? Where's Director Zhang?"
"What Director Zhang? Jiang Qiu, you don't want to be in the entertainment industry anymore? You can't even tell who your own director is? I haven't even told you what you were acting in yesterday. Your expression is so stiff. If you don't want to be in this industry, get out of here!"
Jiang Qiu was full of doubts and wanted to ask more questions, but the person on the other end had already hung up the phone angrily.
Jiang Qiu stared at the words, his fingertips hovering above the screen, unmoving. Then, a sudden thought struck him. He frantically searched his phone, only to discover that Zhang Chuchu wasn't even in his address book. Even the information he'd previously requested about "Cultivation World, All Men in the World Adored and Loved Me" had been replaced by a Republican-era drama he'd never heard of.
What is going on?
Jiang Qiu's fingertips trembled as he flipped through his phone, and the intertwined memories hit his brain like a dizzy mess.
Were those...all just dreams?
Impossible...Impossible!
Jiang Qiu felt his soul being torn apart in his body, and the confusion of his memories made him almost suffocate from roaring.
He struggled and broke out in a cold sweat.
Jiang Qiu didn't breathe a sigh of relief until he suddenly saw the dark red lines on the palm of his hand.
This was the mark he and the system had agreed upon. If he came back one day, in order to avoid becoming a mental patient with disordered memories and eventually going insane and being admitted to a mental hospital, Jiang Qiu asked the system to leave a dark red mark on the palm of his original body, otherwise he would rather die than continue to complete the task.
Now it seems that Jiang Qiu is very glad that he made such a wise move.
It's all true, not a dream. The world of immortal cultivation with Feng Li, Zhang Chuchu, and the self-destructing golden elixir is real.
【Seal off...】
He slowly got up and brushed his teeth in front of the mirror. When his face was covered in foam, he could always see Feng Li's face—his black robe stained with blood, his peach-shaped eyes frighteningly red, the veins bulging in his neck as he roared at him, and finally, those eyes filled with despair as he lay in the ruins.
He spitted out his mouthwash with a gurgle and splashed cold water on his face. The person in the mirror was panting awkwardly, with dark circles under his eyes, the result of years of working through the night filming.
"Jiang Qiu, you've become so fucking successful that you actually start to miss a lunatic who wanted to chop off your hands and feet." He pulled the corners of his mouth at himself in the mirror, and his smile was uglier than crying.
But somewhere in my heart it felt so soft and painful.
When he said he wanted to eat candied haws, that madman would come back with a basket of frost-covered candied haws. The sourness made him grimace, but he would still feed him by pinching his chin; after he escaped and was caught, he would curse him as a "disobedient thing" while standing outside the confinement room on a cold night, secretly keeping him warm with magic energy; for him, he would not hesitate to give up all his cultivation, even if he knew that meant death.
[Seal off…]
The name rolled around on the tip of his tongue, burning his eyes.
He shook his head, suppressing the surging emotions. Now was not the time to think about these things. Since he was already back, he should let those things go. The system had not appeared, and he had no way to get Zhang Chuchu back.
Although he didn't understand why everything around him changed after he traveled through time, it was as if someone was deliberately erasing all the information he remembered about that world.
Jiang Qiu shook his head again and thought, forget it. There was a wrap-up party in the evening, so he had to go and get close to the new director and producer, hoping that they would consider him, a third-rate actor, for the next role.
After all, he still has to live now.
Let the past be the past!
There is no connection anymore.
The wrap-up party was scheduled at a barbecue stall near the crew, which was full of the aroma of fireworks. The plastic shed could not block the late autumn evening breeze, which made the light bulbs hanging on the ceiling sway, making the expressions on everyone's faces flicker.
Jiang Qiu arrived not too late and found a seat in a corner. The surroundings were filled with a cacophony of voices. The director, with his glass raised, boasted about the investment in his next film. A few young actors surrounded the leading actress, offering flattering words. The aroma of greasy grilled skewers mixed with the whiff of beer foam formed a familiar, underclass entertainment atmosphere.
But he always felt there was a membrane between them.
Someone patted his shoulder. It was a stagehand from the same crew: "Brother Jiang, what are you daydreaming about? Have some freshly grilled kidneys to nourish yourself."
Jiang Qiu took the skewer and took a bite. The greasy smell spread in his mouth, making his stomach churn. He suddenly remembered the skewer of snow wolf meat that Xie An had grilled in the snowfields of the Northern Territory. Although it was too tough to chew, it had a warm, homey flavor.
Then what? Then he was hit from behind by Xie An's grandson.
His heart suddenly ached, as if an invisible string had been tugged. Jiang Qiu bent over and coughed, dropping the skewers on the table, splattering oil onto his jeans.
"Are you okay?" someone next to me asked.
Jiang Qiu waved his hands, speechless. He lowered his head, his hair falling over his eyes, so no one could see the redness in his eyes.
Was it because he remembered Xie An? Perhaps. But more importantly, it was because of the way Feng Li looked when he barged in afterwards.
The bloodstains on the black robe, the messy black hair, the bloodshot eyes, and the icy words "Let him go."
"Jiang Qiu, why are you hiding here drinking alone?"
A slightly greasy voice sounded in his ears. Jiang Qiu raised his head. It was another male actor in the crew, named Zhao Kun. He had played several small supporting roles and always felt that he was superior to others. There was always some ill intention in his eyes when he looked at him.
Jiang Qiu curled the corner of his mouth, said nothing, picked up the glass in front of him and took a sip of beer.
"Don't just drink," Zhao Kun sat down beside him. The scent of cheap cologne mixed with sweat wafted over, causing Jiang Qiu to subconsciously move aside. "Those of us extras have to look out for each other. Come, let me toast you a glass. I wish you a big success soon."
Zhao Kun held up the beer bottle and handed it over, the bottle almost touching Jiang Qiu's face.
Jiang Qiu frowned, not wanting to argue with him any further: "I can't drink much, just a token of my appreciation."
"Oh, this is boring," Zhao Kun's smile faded a little, but his tone was firm and unyielding. "We're all from the same crew, we see each other every day, and you can't even give me a little face?"
As he spoke, he reached out, grabbed Jiang Qiu's wrist holding the cup, and brought the cup to his mouth.
The touch was sticky and warm, and Jiang Qiu froze. He pulled his hand back with such force that he nearly spilled the wine in the glass.
Someone nearby looked over, and Zhao Kun felt a little embarrassed. He withdrew his hand awkwardly, but he still refused to give up. "I was just joking with you, don't react so strongly. Come on, I'll drink a glass as punishment."
He tilted his head back and drank half a bottle of beer. The way his Adam's apple rolled around made Jiang Qiu feel sick.
He suddenly thought of those malicious people in the Demon Realm. That malicious touch and the feeling of Zhao Kun's hand on his wrist at this moment inexplicably overlapped together.
My stomach feels even worse.
"I'm going to the bathroom." Jiang Qiu stood up and tried to avoid it.
"Wait," Zhao Kun also stood up and stood in front of him, holding an unopened beer bottle in his hand.
"Don't be in such a hurry to leave. The director just said that although your role as Undercover A is small this time, your eyes are quite striking. You're a good material. Come, have another drink. I hope you can get a role with lines next time."
Jiang Qiu took a step back, his brows furrowed even tighter: "I said, I can't drink anymore."
"Just one bottle, not much," Zhao Kun pressed the beer bottle into his hand without hesitation, even unscrewing the cap. "Look, everyone else is drinking, but you're the only one not drinking. Do you look down on us old classmates?"
He deliberately said the three words "old classmate" very loudly, attracting several glances from the people around him.
Jiang Qiu knew that in this kind of situation, being too rude would easily lead to being harassed. He took a deep breath, took the beer bottle, and took a long swig.
The cold liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't suppress the irritation surging in his heart. If he were still in the Demon Realm, the bastard who dared to touch him would have been crushed by Feng Li and fed to the dogs long ago.
As soon as this thought came up, it was suppressed by Jiang Qiu.
I started thinking about that madman again.
After drinking a bottle of beer, Jiang Qiu began to feel dizzy.
He has a low alcohol tolerance to begin with, and today he has something on his mind, so he can't resist the persuasion.
Seeing his dazed look, Zhao Kun curled up a subtle smile and quietly opened a bottle of white wine and handed it to him: "Drink some more to relieve your fatigue. I see that you haven't been in good shape these past few days. Did you not get enough rest?"
Jiang Qiu waved his hands, his tongue a little tied: "No... I can't drink anymore..."
"It's okay, I'll help you drink half." Zhao Kun said, and really came over, took a big sip from the bottle, then put the bottle back into Jiang Qiu's hand, and his fingers rubbed the back of his hand intentionally or unintentionally.
Jiang Qiu shuddered all over and retracted his hand as if he was scalded. The bottle of white wine fell to the ground and shattered, and the wine splashed on his trouser legs.
"Oh, look at what you did." Zhao Kun apologized hypocritically, bent down to pick up the fragments, but his hand touched Jiang Qiu's calf.
"Don't touch me!" Jiang Qiu stood up suddenly, but his legs were weak and he almost fell. He held on to the table, his eyes flashing with a clear mind and a look of offended anger. "Zhao Kun, what the hell do you want to do?"
His voice was quiet, but it carried an inexplicable intimidating force that made Zhao Kun pause. Someone nearby looked over, and a flash of panic crossed Zhao Kun's face before he put on that greasy smile again. "Look at you, you've had too much to drink, haven't you? Let me help you sit down."
"No need." Jiang Qiu shook off his hand, staggered back two steps, and his back hit the beer box behind him, making a "clang" sound.
The alcohol in his stomach took effect, and the feeling of being dizzy and lightheaded became more and more intense. The people and objects in front of him began to shake. He saw Zhao Kun's blurry face enlarged in front of him, heard him say something like "I'll take you home if you drink too much", and the flattering voices of the people around him.
So noisy.
Louder than Bai Yichen’s crazy laughter.
He tried to push the person away, but he had no strength. Suddenly, Zhao Kun seemed to have transformed into Bai Yichen, wearing a moon-white Taoist robe and holding an enamel jar with the words "Most Handsome Man in the Immortal Cultivation World" printed on it. He looked down at him and said, "Feng Li is just treating you as a plaything."
"Get out..." Jiang Qiu cursed in a hoarse voice.
"What?" Zhao Kun didn't hear clearly and kept moving closer to him.
"I said get out!" Jiang Qiu suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, like an angry cat, "Don't touch me..."
His gaze passed through the crowd and fell on a swaying light bulb in the distance. The dim light reminded him of the chains on the cold jade bed, cold, heavy, and filled with a breath of despair.
Then, he thought of Feng Li again.
He remembered the overwhelming demonic energy, the reckless madness, and the word "OK" that sounded as light as a sigh but hit his heart hard when Feng Li rushed in.
His heart felt like it was being tightly gripped by something, and the pain was so severe that he couldn't breathe.
Tears fell without warning, hitting the greasy plastic table and leaving a small stain.
Jiang Qiu himself was stunned.
He actually cried? For that lunatic?
"Jiang Qiu? Jiang Qiu, are you okay?" Someone patted his face.
Jiang Qiu blinked, his vision clearing slightly. It was Zhao Kun, holding his arm with a fake look of concern on his face. "You've had too much to drink. Let me take you home."
"No need..." Jiang Qiu was still struggling, but he couldn't resist the soreness of his body, so he could only let the other party half support and half drag him out.
"Where is your home?" Zhao Kun's voice sounded in his ears, with a hint of barely perceptible excitement.
Jiang Qiu's mind was in a mess, the alcohol and surging emotions mixed together, making him lose his composure. He tried to speak out his address, but his throat seemed to be blocked, and he could only utter muffled syllables.
"Where do you live? Is it far?" Zhao Kun asked again, and his hand began to touch his waist in an indecent manner.
Jiang Qiu shuddered violently, as if pricked by a needle. He pushed Zhao Kun away and leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. "I... I can walk on my own..."
"Don't be so stubborn," Zhao Kun came closer again, this time directly hugging his shoulders and pulling him into his arms, "You live alone, how can you get drunk without anyone to take care of you? I'll take you upstairs."
Live alone.
These four words were like a key, unlocking the last trace of concealment in Zhao Kun's eyes. His hands became even more presumptuous, sliding down Jiang Qiu's shoulders, almost touching his chest.
Jiang Qiu's hair stood on end. A strong feeling of nausea and fear surged over him, overcoming the dizziness brought on by the alcohol. He remembered the force with which Bai Yichen had pinched his neck, and the despair of being imprisoned.
Different.
Bai Yichen's malice was blatant, with a madness that destroyed everything. Zhao Kun's malice, on the other hand, was vulgar, hidden beneath a greasy smile, like grease stuck on a body, making you want to peel off a layer of skin.
What frightened him even more was that he was now powerless.
He had no spiritual power, no golden elixir, and he almost didn't even have the strength to push someone away.
He is just a small-time actor in the 38th tier. In this real world, without the protection of his family, he is weak and vulnerable.
"Let me go..." Jiang Qiu's voice was filled with tears, and tears fell again. It was not known whether it was because of fear or because of something else.
He suddenly missed Feng Li very much.
He missed the devil who could flatten the world of cultivation for him, he missed the madman who could warm his hands with magic energy, and he missed the bastard who was clumsy and gentle even when he was imprisoned.
If Feng Li is in...
If Feng Li were here, anyone who dared to touch him would have been crushed into pieces.
But there are no ifs.
He left that madman in the collapsed cave, in the ruins dyed red by the sunset.
"Fuck..." Jiang Qiu cursed softly, with endless self-mockery and despair.
Seeing that he had stopped struggling and was just crying with his head down, Zhao Kun became even bolder. He half-carried Jiang Qiu as they walked out of the barbecue stall, muttering, "Don't worry, we'll be there soon... Which floor is your house on?"
Jiang Qiu's consciousness grew increasingly hazy, his body limp as mud, and he could only allow himself to be dragged along. The evening breeze, chilling his face, sobered him up a bit. He could feel Zhao Kun's hands groping him, smell his nauseating odor, and hear his own heartbeat accelerating.
He seemed to be back on that cold jade bed, tied up with chains, watching Bai Yichen smile smugly, and watching Feng Li disperse all his cultivation for him.
The feeling of powerlessness overwhelmed him like a tide.
"Feng Li..." He murmured unconsciously, his voice as soft as a dream talk.
"What?" Zhao Kun didn't hear clearly, so he lowered his head and leaned close to his ear, "What did you say?"
Warm breath sprayed on the earlobe, carrying a strong smell of alcohol and malice.
Jiang Qiu turned his head sharply and dodged. Using the last bit of his strength, he raised his hand, not to push Zhao Kun away, but to tightly grasp the clothes on his chest, as if grasping the last straw to save his life.
It was empty there, without the golden elixir or spiritual power, only a heart that was about to stop beating in pain for a non-existent person.
The last thing he saw was Zhao Kun's enlarged face filled with greed and obscenity, and the blurry street lights in the distance, which looked very much like the setting sun outside the cave that dyed half the sky red.
Then, consciousness completely sank into darkness.
In the last second before losing consciousness, Jiang Qiu had only one thought in his mind -
Feng Li, you fool.
I seem to... miss you a little.
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