Chapter 21 Chapter 21 (Starting with an inverted V) Previously...
When the demons who were farming before heard Bai Tianming's voice, they all stumbled and crawled over on all fours. Some demons lost control and turned into puppies, rubbing against Bai Tianming and whimpering in their throats, looking very aggrieved and wanting to complain.
White Spiral, who fell not far away, was stunned by what he saw. He was even more surprised to see a group of demons trying to please a demon that appeared out of nowhere.
He confirmed from the breath that just burst out that it was not Sada who stopped them from continuing to fight, so he shook himself, slowly got up from the ground, and looked carefully, wanting to see what kind of demon could make this group of demons willingly farm here, stop immediately after being beaten, and even turn around to please.
When he saw it, his whole demonic being froze, as if wrapped in butter, unable to move. He could only smell the heavenly fragrance, and his whole body trembled involuntarily.
This trembling was not under his control, but an almost instinctive reaction of his body. He recognized the person.
It's bright during the day, bright during the day, bright during the day...
After he chewed this familiar name over and over in his mind, it rushed straight into his brain, causing him to widen his eyes. He trembled and stumbled as he tried to get closer.
He is now no different from other demons. He is even more excited and remorseful than them, because he now realizes that the reason these demons are farming here is entirely because of Bai Tianming. If he had come here first, he would also obey Bai Tianming's orders and do whatever he asked him to do.
But he was neither the first to arrive nor the first to discover Bai Tianming. He opened his mouth and tears fell like an unstoppable downpour.
My throat choked involuntarily, as if all the sounds I hadn't made many years ago, alone in the middle of the night, were now coming back to me, even more.
Bitter ripples appeared in my heart, as if I had chewed a cup of unprocessed coffee beans, mixed with the faint aroma of lavender wafting from past memories.
Many years ago, he couldn't sleep when he thought about the daylight coming up. Insomnia was a common thing, but for the devil, insomnia was not a big deal.
Because they can remain conscious and move freely even without sleep for one or two days, but this does not mean that they can go without rest for years.
After all, they are not omnipotent gods.
Their physical fitness was better than that of ordinary humans, so while ordinary humans would be extremely tired after a night without sleep, they could still hold on for a while.
Just for a while.
After that period of time, it was impossible to continue.
By the time he realized that insomnia had already caused trouble to his body, it was too late for him to correct this bad habit.
He would toss and turn in bed, wander around the castle late at night, take a walk in the deserted garden, and drink to the moon and cry bitterly on the extremely cold top floor.
Sometimes he couldn't tell whether he was suffering from insomnia or from the thought that he would never see the light of day again. But he was sure that the pain had never gone away.
In the end, because he couldn't sleep at all and was too tired, he could only light a lamp and practice calligraphy under the lamp while crying. Practicing calligraphy does not require thinking, only time. For him, there is really nothing more suitable for him to do when he can't sleep.
While he was writing Bai Tianming's name on the paper, he turned his head from time to time to look at the color of the sky.
He had written other things at first, but when he was distracted, he would always write anything as Bai Tianming's name, because this was the only name he could write without thinking.
Insomnia can make your thinking dull, just like soaking rusty machine parts under the sea. Even if you pick them up, they are unusable, and even if you wash and brush them, they are still rotten.
Not as good as the clean ones, so new, so easy to use and so beautiful.
The later it got at night and the quieter it was, the more he would think of Bai Tianming. It all started with Bai Tianming and ended with Bai Tianming, as if he lived only for such a demon.
If there really was such a demon, he would occasionally wonder why that person didn't appear. Then he would remember that it wasn't that the person didn't appear, but that he disappeared after appearing.
No one can find it again.
This is different from not showing up.
But for him late at night, there is no difference between the two situations, because no matter which one it is, he can't see, hear, or touch anything, and it is bright during the day.
The only thing he could touch was the paper in front of him. There were names on the paper, names that everyone knew, names one after another, names that were not written with the same mood at all.
Sometimes the handwriting would be completely different, but it would not change in essence. He could no longer recall carefully what he was thinking when he wrote those things, but he would always feel sad when he looked at them.
Tears soaked the papers and names.
When he was conscious, he had no idea why he had so many tears. When his heart and face were numb, he couldn't understand why he felt pain.
But at night, everything came back: the tears, the pain, the unconsciousness, as if he had already stepped halfway into the cycle of reincarnation, unable to get in or out. He was stuck.
If he didn't realize how much pain he was in writing those things, then he wouldn't be in pain anymore, because by that time, he would either be dead or lose the ability to feel pain.
Neither of them is very good, but when he wonders why he is still alive, he also thinks that maybe it would be better to die than now.
People will die eventually, demons will die too, maybe we can meet again after death. Maybe.
When you are lucky, there will be a moon in the sky. The brighter the moon, the later the time. The dimmer the moon, the closer it is to dawn. The moon and the clock are different.
The clock only shows the passage of time, but it cannot make people truly feel what changes have taken place in the world. They only feel that every day is the same and there is no difference.
So he had to look at the sky.
When you are unlucky, it will rain. The sound of the rain will last all night, making it even harder to sleep and colder. It seems that the rain is not falling on the ground, but flowing through the window into your eyes, and then from your eyes onto the paper.
The paper used for practicing calligraphy will be soaked with tears and you can only change it with another one. But no matter how many times you change it, the result will be the same, just as painful, just as damp, and just as irreversible.
Nothing could stop him from sliding into the abyss.
He kept his eyes open, awake from night to dawn, and from dawn to dusk, watching the dusk gradually darken, the sun disappear, revealing the moon, the moon disappear, stars grow, and finally even the stars disappear, and dawn appears in the clouds.
Day after day, he thought countless times that maybe it shouldn't be like this, but the days didn't change much, because thinking and acting are two completely different things.
He tried hard to disguise himself as normal. He heard that humans believed that lavender could help people sleep, so he tore a piece of white cloth, grabbed a handful of lavender, made a lavender-scented pillow, and put it on the bed, trying to pretend that he would lie here every night and fall asleep smelling the scent of lavender.
But as he looked at the pillow, he couldn't help but think that white clothes were often worn at human funerals. If Bai Tianming died, he would attend the funeral, or not, and he would probably tear a piece of white cloth for himself as a memorial.
He rested on the pillow and had a dream in the middle of the night. He couldn't tell whether it was a good dream or a nightmare, but he still remembered the dream.
He was wearing a white suit with a hat and holding a bamboo basket filled with paper money and lavender. He picked up the lavender and it turned into paper money. He took out the paper money and it turned into lavender.
He held the yellowed paper money close to his nose and sniffed hard. He knew he should smell the scent of old, damp paper, but instead he smelled the scent of lavender.
It seemed like someone bumped into him. He looked up and saw Bai Tianming standing beside him. He smiled at him and then walked forward. He heard someone say, "It's time to scatter paper money."
He scattered the paper money in his hand, but the paper money turned into lavender after falling out. He saw lavender all over the sky and didn't know whether he should think that the things flying in the sky were paper money.
He took two steps forward and saw a dark, heavy coffin. At least eight people, with their backs to him, were carrying the coffin, moving slowly and with heavy steps, looking very difficult.
He saw the smiling Bai Tianming in black and white on the coffin. When he looked over, Bai Tianming on the coffin rolled his eyes and smiled at him, as if to say, I am not dead, but this is a secret, don't tell anyone else.
He nodded and fell silent. The lavender and paper money in the basket were all used up. The crowd stopped and the coffin disappeared. He smelled a strong scent of lavender.
He felt like he was almost drowning in it. He woke up and found that the pillow had broken at some point. The lavender inside had grown out, densely packed, lush and verdant, burying his head in it, like a bunch of flowers growing on a grave.
He suspected the lavenders were trying to kill him, but were unsuccessful.
He wanted to throw the pillow away, but he was reluctant to do so. It was not because he suddenly liked lavender, but because he felt that maybe, if he used this pillow again, he would be able to see the daylight again in the night, no matter what kind it was.
He left behind the pillow, the lavender, and the dream that he would take out again and again and reminisce about every night when he couldn't sleep.
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