Chapter 58 Circle (VI) Three Andies.
When she was very young, her grandfather asked her that question.
"Little Candle, are you scared?" Grandpa pointed to the dim light bulb above his head, which was surrounded by moths. The small body bumped against the glass cover again and again, appearing particularly clear in the still night.
"Why be afraid?" Xia Zhu asked, puzzled. She stared intently at the yellowish-gray moth that looked like cornmeal. She knew the idiom "moths to a flame," and she also knew that the latter part often followed by a statement of self-destruction.
But in Xia Zhu's eyes, the moth attracted to light is an incredibly brave warrior, even if its pursuit of life is seen by life in another dimension as nothing more than the stupid behavior of a lower species.
Pain, or death, is simply another form of life blossoming.
To say I'm afraid.
Xia Zhu suddenly remembered the woman who lived by the river. The woman had gotten married the year before last, and Xia Zhu had gone to join the festivities on her wedding day with the neighbor's children. Seeing the bride was always the greatest joy for these young, inexperienced kids. Xia Zhu followed the group of boys through countless legs that looked like withered tree trunks, past the wooden round table where the wedding feast would be held, and finally saw her under a lush walnut tree adorned with red ribbons.
She wore a smoky red jacket with a fur collar and red trousers. Her hair was tied up, becoming dry, stiff, and curly for some reason. A red plastic flower was tucked behind her ear. Her face was covered so much that her original skin color was not visible; it was a bright red, like two slices of hawthorn cake.
She must have been happy at that moment, even though she seemed too young to understand the joy of marriage. The explosions of firecrackers and blessings around her ears might have given her a brief, blissful ringing in her ears. At least at that time, her round eyes were still sparkling.
Perhaps it was because the bride's colors were so striking that little Xia Zhu thought women would always be red.
Later, Xia Zhu noticed that the woman would always pass by her yard. She would still wear red clothes, but the color was no longer bright and was covered by a kind of gray.
Every day, the woman walks with her head down along the ridge in front of her house, watching the sun rise and set, the crops turn green and then yellow. She's like a machine programmed to operate precisely between the ridge, the stove, and the pigsty. The hoe rises and falls, the sickle cuts the wheat stalks, the machete splits the firewood—her movements are fluid, honed through countless trials, carrying an almost cruel efficiency.
Xia Zhu was initially very curious and tried to observe the woman's face from every angle. After trying again and again, she found that she could no longer see those black eyes on the woman's face.
This discovery woke Xia Zhu from a nightmare in the middle of the night, leaving him drenched in sweat.
This was the first time she had ever felt afraid.
It was also the first time she made a firm decision that when she grew up to be a woman, she would never wear the same red dress as her. So she studied hard, going from town to city, until she gained knowledge from books that she had never imagined before, and glimpsed a corner of this vast world. Until her grandfather left her before that summer even arrived, a new fear appeared in Xia Zhu's heart.
Before, I wanted to go far away because I was afraid; now, I'm afraid to go far away.
Until she lay on this hospital bed, with the straps tightly binding her limbs, it seemed as if her taut skin and flesh were merely weighing on a chopping board, even though she hadn't put up any real resistance from beginning to end.
Until the sedative was injected into her veins, her upper arm, with the puncture site exposed, remained bare, and no one remembered to help her straighten her clothes. That forced calmness flowed through her veins throughout her body; her breathing became slow, deep, and even artificial; her muscles relaxed to the point of limpness; and her unfocused pupils were filled with only a chaotic grayness.
Fear struck again.
In her daze, Xia Zhu understood the name of fear. What she feared was never pain, but numbness.
At this moment, lying in a mental hospital, everyone tells her that she is hallucinating due to some kind of psychological stress, and that she had to suspend her studies to come here for treatment. They tell her that everything before was fake, and that the flame that finally rose in her numb life was just an unconscious friction caused by her mental breakdown.
Friends, companions, the unparalleled allure of the unknown world, and the dazzling moonlight—all are illusions.
This blow was undoubtedly fatal to Xia Zhu. What angered her even more was that she didn't even have the strength to stand up and prove anything herself. She could only be tied to this bed, feeling the fine, dense itching between her bones, and a sense of emptiness spreading throughout her body.
Helpless, Xia Zhu closed her eyes.
It seemed like a long time had passed in a hazy state. Xia Zhu slept soundly, perhaps even having a dream. In her dream, she became a deadly and beautiful female villain from a book she had read before, imprisoned by her nemesis in the Bettina Convent, a repressive, heavily guarded prison that easily drove criminals to despair.
She imagined herself as Milady, the most capable agent under the Red Cult Leader. Her charm stemmed not only from her beautiful appearance and elegance in a comfortable environment, but also from the steel-like will and terrifying survival instinct that burst forth in dire straits.
When Xia Zhu was reading the book, she was captivated by the character. Now, she is locked up here as a mental patient, and her situation is somewhat similar to Milady's.
When Xia Zhu woke up again, she had a completely new willpower, which was the armor given to her by the characters in her imagination. Sometimes, it's not a bad thing to role-play like Feng Feng.
Thinking this way helped me recover most of my bodily functions.
Over the next few days, Xia Zhu behaved like an enlightened villain, repenting profusely and actively seeking treatment. She obediently took her injections and medication every day, and after the doctor left, she battled the dullness and numbness in her brain caused by the drugs.
Her acting skills had indeed improved. Four days later, they no longer needed to tie her to the bed with straps, and they no longer needed to bother locking the door of the ward. Xia Zhu was finally able to move around freely.
"Alright, Xia Zhu, if you had listened to me earlier, you might have recovered and been discharged from the hospital sooner. Don't let your grandfather worry in heaven."
After administering the last injection of the day, the on-duty nurse tossed the syringe back into the stainless steel tray, gave Xia Zhu a meaningful look at the bed, shook her head, and pushed the trolley away.
Xia Zhu suppressed her nausea and swallowed the curses she didn't want to say. She still couldn't accept that these pseudo-human monsters created by demons could talk about her grandfather in such a grand and respectable way.
The door closed completely. Xia Zhu lay down to rest for a few minutes, then shook her head and got off the bed. She wanted to go to the basement again.
Although the dosage of the sedative was reduced because of her normal behavior, it still affected her mind and behavior. Xia Zhu leaned against the wall to go to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and scooped up the cold water to bury her face in her palms.
This method was indeed effective. Xia Zhu looked at her lifeless face in the mirror and felt that her five senses seemed to have become more acute.
Suddenly, she heard a faint sound beneath the water, like a whisper coming from the pipes. She turned off the tap and listened carefully again.
The rustling sound came from beneath the pool.
She crouched down and was surprised to find fine plaster falling from behind the sink's drainpipe, piling up on the floor into a small white mountain. Her heart raced, and suppressing her excitement, she carefully reached behind the drainpipe.
The wall was loose, as if someone was chiseling a hole behind it.
Suddenly, a small piece of brick slid out completely.
Xia Zhu's eyes lit up; this wasn't The Three Musketeers at all, but The Shawshank Redemption.
She excitedly bent down, but the narrow space behind the pipe prevented her from seeing what was happening on the other side through the gap. Xia Zhu reached out her hand, and a rustling sound came from the opening again.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly as she held a prescription in her hand.
She turned the prescription over, and on the other side were words written in a handwriting so familiar they brought tears to her eyes.
"Hello, Xia Zhu No. 3."
I wiped away my tears and prepared to introduce myself.
"I am you, or more precisely, I am Xia Zhu No. 2."
She stared at the row of words that were exactly the same as her own; the number "Number Three" was particularly glaring.
With a thud, a ballpoint pen fell out of the hole behind the water pipe.
Xia Zhu wiped her wet eyes and, without hesitation, picked up a pen and wrote a reply on the prescription.
"Everything is cyclical, isn't it?"
She quickly stuffed the note back in, and soon after, another message came from the other side of the room.
"That's right, and this is the third time until you showed up."
Xia Zhu opened her eyes. The room was dimly lit, with only a single overhead light illuminating a faint circular area. The first thing she smelled was a strong odor of disinfectant, which wafted into her stomach, burning with a faint sour taste.
She guessed she was sitting on a bed, with a pillow behind her back, but the fabric under her feet wasn't soft; it was rough and chafed her heels. In the dim light, she could tell she was in a hospital room. Just as the feeling of being alone began to wash over her, she noticed a man sitting abruptly on the bed opposite her.
"What a coincidence," he said casually, his voice sounding as if it came from a great distance.
"What are you doing here?" She originally wanted to ask, "Are you following me again?" but that would obviously sound presumptuous, so Xia Zhu pursed her lips and changed her words.
"I already said it's just a coincidence."
“Coincidence.” Xia Zhu repeated Ying Huo’s words, pondering the meaning of this simple word. “That’s quite a coincidence.” She replied dryly.
The two lay face to face on the bed like fellow patients in the same ward, their silence making everything around them seem unreal.
Xia Zhu turned her head and looked around, discovering that besides her and Ying Huo, there were several other hospital beds in the room.
An empty bed.
Feng Feng and Ji Wuchou are not here.
She originally wanted to get out of bed and walk around to find out what was going on, but when she glanced at the motionless man opposite her, for some reason, she chose to remain still.
It even relaxes the back muscles, allowing the spine to rest completely against the soft pillow.
After an unknown amount of time, the only light in the room flickered several times before going out completely. For no reason, perhaps out of the instinct for survival, Xia Zhu held her breath.
In the darkness, she heard some strange noise.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
