Chapter 1 Death Diary
Fang Gu died one afternoon when no one was watching.
It is said that he committed suicide due to schizophrenia caused by excessive pressure.
In the period after he was diagnosed by the hospital, his mother carefully kept all the deadly items she could imagine in the house and kept an eye on him all day, but she still couldn't prevent him from hanging himself with a rope tied with his clothes.
It was long-planned and quite creative.
The dark coffin lid slowly closed, cutting off the young man's last connection with the world. The young man's mother cried so hard that she couldn't stand up.
Lu Jiamu, wearing a long black trench coat, stood quietly at the stairs, hiding himself in the shadows. His face was indifferent, and he looked a little pale and gloomy.
He had never thought that his best friend would pass away in this way and at this age.
Lu Jiamu didn't feel much sadness in his heart, he was just very confused about Fang Gu's death.
Fang Gu is an optimistic, cheerful and faithful young man. He has achieved academic success, has great ideals and is supported by his family. He has no debts, is in good financial condition, has no bad habits, has no major illnesses, has no bizarre and tortuous lovelorn experiences, and none of his relatives within three generations who can be contacted have a history of mental illness.
It is almost impossible for such a person to suffer from schizophrenia.
Lu Jiamu touched his chin and observed the expressions of each visitor with an expressionless face, secretly guessing in his heart what kind of relationship they had with Fang Gu.
It was not until everyone went in that Lu Jiamu's dark and silent eyes moved. He suddenly took out a bottle of eye drops from his windbreaker pocket, raised his slightly pale face, leaned over and quickly dropped several drops into his eyes.
He deliberately mixed some Fengyoujing into the bottle of eye drops. Once it entered his eyes, his nose was instantly irritated and felt sore. Tears streamed down his face and he finally cried in tune with the atmosphere.
So spicy...
But for my best friend, it’s okay to add a little bit of Tiger Balm.
Lu Jiamu blinked uncomfortably and casually put the bottle of eye drops back into his pocket.
The corners of his originally indifferent face slowly turned downward, forming an expression of sadness that couldn't be more genuine.
Lu Jiamu sniffed, wiped his tears, walked out of the shadows, and walked into the main door of the funeral home sobbing.
Seeing how sadly he cried, the people around him all thought that Fang Gu must have had a very good relationship with him when he was alive.
Their mood also became a little depressed. They patted Lu Jiamu on the shoulder and whispered to comfort him: "Hey... Please accept my condolences."
It was too rude to chat in a place like this, so Lu Jiamu just responded briefly while crying uncontrollably.
Lu Jiamu walked forward with his shoulders shaking and sobbing. Just as he got closer, he heard Fang Gu's mother calling him, "Jiamu..."
Lu Jiamu had just tasted the Fengyoujing with his eyes, and the sour feeling had not yet worn off. His eyes were still red and tears were streaming, and he couldn't stop at all.
Seeing that he was so sad about the death of her son and was crying like this, Fang's mother was a little moved.
Lu Jiamu shed tears while quietly observing the expression on her face: "Auntie."
After an obvious hesitation, Fang's mother spoke in a sleepwalking tone, "Fang Gu must be very happy that you came today. He used to have the best relationship with you.
"He later became very ill and stopped contacting you. It's not because he doesn't value your friendship anymore. Don't blame him."
In fact, during Fang Gu's last period of life, Lu Jiamu wanted to take the initiative to visit him several times, but each time he didn't even get through the door, he saw Fang Gu yelling and smashing things wildly.
Lu Jiamu sniffed and said, "I don't blame him. I know he is sick. Auntie, you should also calm down."
Fang's mother nodded: "He..."
Fang's mother's expression became a little strange: "When he left, he left a diary with him, and it was clearly left for you. I don't know if you... want to accept it."
Diary? He still writes this kind of thing?
Lu Jiamu felt a little surprised, but still answered sincerely: "Auntie, Fang Gu is my best friend. Since he left it for me, I will definitely accept it."
Hearing his sincerity, Fang's mother wiped her face and carefully took out a notebook from her handbag.
Lu Jiamu took the diary and politely unfolded the first page. He glanced at it and then closed it again, preparing to read it carefully when no one was around.
There were only a few words written on the first page: Please give it to Lu Jiamu.
Lu Jiamu put the notebook away: "Thank you, Auntie. I will keep it well and read it carefully."
The pitch-black coffin has been sealed and is being pushed to the crematorium by the staff. It will be cremated early tomorrow morning.
Mother Fang nodded in a daze.
Lu Jiamu had originally planned to ask about the details of Fang Gu's last period of life today, but when he unexpectedly got his diary, he decided not to ask.
It would be safer to study my good brother through that diary.
After leaving the funeral home and entering the subway station, seeing that there was no one around who knew him, Lu Jiamu strode to the bathroom and rinsed his eyes at the sink, trying to wash away all the sour feelings.
After a moment, he stood up, wiped his face with a tissue, and all his sadness seemed to have disappeared.
Apart from the redness in his eyes, he returned to his previous expressionless and indifferent appearance.
He is a person who is naturally lacking in some emotions.
When he was a child, once others noticed that he didn't like to cry or laugh, and that he remained unmoved no matter how touching the stories were, and that he could even find logical loopholes in the stories, they all thought that he lacked empathy, was abnormal, and a pervert, and that they needed to stay away from him.
What's worse, they will give him all kinds of strange labels for no reason.
Only Fang Gu, even though he truly saw through his true nature, never despised him. He always took him to play and listened to him carefully.
What a pity... my good brother.
Lu Jiamu pinched his thin chin in front of the mirror, shook his head, and walked out of the bathroom.
On the way back, there were not many people on the subway.
Lu Jiamu chose a corner, leaned his back against the train wall, stared at the door for a while, then took out Fang Gu's diary again, preparing to take advantage of this free time to carefully observe his good brother's last wishes.
He held the notebook in one hand and reached into his windbreaker pocket with the other hand to fumble for a moment, then took out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and put them on his nose, looking very gentlemanly.
The world in Lu Jiamu's eyes suddenly became much clearer.
After making all the preparations, Lu Jiamu picked up Fang Gu's diary and read it carefully.
The first thing that was presented was Fang Gu's wild scribbles on his diary, which were uglier than kindergarten graffiti.
Lu Jiamu frowned, adjusted his glasses, and flipped back a few pages.
Then he discovered that most of the diary was occupied by his scribbles that looked like spider legs crawling out. Some words that were impossible to tell what was written were twisted and entangled, and the notes were black, blue, and red.
It's depressing, thrilling, and the meaning is unclear.
It is obvious that in this part, Fang Gu has completely fallen into madness, lost his mind, and is not mentally normal.
Lu Jiamu couldn't imagine why his best brother would draw such a bunch of messy things for him before he died.
I can’t even imagine what kind of mentality he had when he carefully wrote those words on the first page: Please give it to Lu Jiamu.
Give it to me, just so I can see the tangled ball of yarn you drew?
But because this was the relic of his best friend, Lu Jiamu still narrowed his eyes, patiently turned back to the first page, and read it page by page, carefully interpreting each stroke one by one, with an attitude comparable to that of studying ancient characters.
Fortunately, Fang Gu used several colors when he was scribbling, so if you look closely you can just about make out the lines.
Although he didn't understand what was written in the end, he found that those suppressed and twisted spider crawling had a high repetition rate, as if they were being written repeatedly, and perhaps had some specific direction in the writer's mind.
This could be a key clue. As long as we can decipher the meaning of these spider crawling symbols, we might be able to better understand Fang Gu’s true thoughts before his death.
But this will take more time.
As for the remaining half of the diary, Fang Gu, who had barely regained his sanity, was mostly recalling some past events in a disorderly manner, many of which were about when he played with Lu Jiamu when he was a child. It was like he had grabbed the last straw and was desperately trying to make friends with him.
On the last few pages of the diary, Fang Gu recorded a long string of numbers and then wrote: The password is the date I went to primary school. Please take good care of my mother.
A true brother who even gave me his bank card and password.
I didn't expect that in the last few moments of his good brother's life, what he was thinking about was giving his savings to me.
He finally treated everyone equally and carefully read the diary, which was half jumbled and half filled with spidery scribbles and children's doodles.
Although I didn't understand most of it, I still sighed with regret: What a pity... This is a relic. My good brother has turned into ashes and will never come back.
The dead cannot be resurrected. No matter how good their relationship was when they were alive, once they are gone, they are gone forever.
Lu Jiamu slowly took off his gold-rimmed glasses, blew on them, wiped them, put them back into his windbreaker pocket, and prepared to get off the car.
But as his fingertips lightly stroked the last page of the diary, the air twisted slightly.
Lu Jiamu seemed to sense something and raised his head in confusion.
The train, which was supposed to be going straight, suddenly made a teeth-grinding "creaking" sound, then made a sharp turn to the left and headed towards an unknown track.
Lu Jiamu was caught off guard and thrown out.
Accompanied by a scream, the entire carriage suddenly lost power and the surroundings became dark in an instant.
The rumble of the train and the sharp sound of metal friction are endless, constantly pulling at the nerves of ordinary people.
There was no hidden tunnel at this station, but the train did not stop after the sharp turn. Instead, it continued to accelerate, and no one knew where it was going.
After the initial scream, there were strangely no more screams or shouts around, not even any announcements on the train.
Under the dim light of the emergency light, Lu Jiamu vaguely saw that all the normal passengers in the carriage had disappeared.
On those seats, groups of human-shaped black shadows were crowded together, and in the shadows, there were pairs of eyes staring at him.
Lu Jiamu calmly closed his eyes, counted to two seconds silently, and then opened them again.
The group of dark shadows are still there.
Today, Lu Jiamu just attended the memorial service for his best friend. He got his friend's belongings and just looked at them carefully.
The story becomes even more interesting when combined with the fact that the other party was mentally ill and died miserably.
this……
Lu Jiamu felt as if he had encountered a strange non-materialistic event.
As if they had noticed his gaze, the dark shadows all opened their pale mouths and revealed malicious smiles under their eyes.
Laughed, everyone laughed.
As a master of expression management for nearly twenty years, Lu Jiamu subconsciously grinned slowly upon seeing this, accurately revealing a smile that was exactly the same as theirs, in order to appear less special.
Creak!
The train suddenly made a sharp turn and threw Lu Jiamu out again.
While trying to grasp something, Lu Jiamu calmly analyzed: Did he give me a death diary?
Or maybe he caught me pretending to cry at his funeral and decided to take me away with him?
Tsk tsk tsk.
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