Wisps of smoke twirled around within the confines of the car’s interior. Zhang Rui and Wang Huiwen didn’t drive away immediately; instead, they stayed inside, smoking and waiting for the group.
After a while, they realized no one was catching up.
Zhang Rui slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “Does this group of closed-minded people all share one braincell?”
Wang Huiwen took the lipstick kept inside the car and applied it to her lips, leaving a vivid red imprint as she held the cigarette between them. The corners of her eyes lifted, with an expression of inexpressible joy gracing her face.
Zhang Rui: “That someone named Xie Ying does seem sharp-witted. I was originally thinking of taking her with us…”
Wang Huiwen let out a puff. “She’s also pretty, right?”
Zhang Rui turned to pinch Wang Huiwen’s cheeks before planting a resounding kiss. “Nonsense. Do you not already know who I like?”
Wang Huiwen reacted instinctively in wrapping her arms around him, and the two entwined for a while, then parted with unsteady breaths.
“Forget it, if they’re not coming, then so be it. Let’s go our own way,” Zhang Rui spoke with bold determination, showing not a trace of the fear he had experienced in the darkness of the night.
The car engine started, releasing a few tendrils of exhaust as the car sped towards an unknown destination.
They, once again, left others behind and escaped.
In the twelfth-floor restaurant, Gao Cheng stood at a distance, calling out to Xie Ying from across the room, “Hey, meizi, aren’t you afraid?”
Xie Ying had her head bowed, her gaze fixed on the corpse on the floor, lost in thought. Her bangs cascaded down, veiling her eyes from view, leaving Gao Cheng with nothing but the sight of her head shaking.
Growing weary of standing, Gao Cheng settled onto a nearby step and called out again, “Just staring like that won’t get you anywhere. Why don’t you come over here and rest for a while?”
Xie Ying raised her head. Even without makeup, her natural beauty still shone through, emitting a delicate and pale allure.
Gao Cheng swallowed hard, feeling a chill coursing down his spine. Xie Ying looked out the windows. With such clear and bright weather, her eyes were awash in azure. Gao Cheng gathered his guts and spoke up again, “Are you really not coming over? Aren’t you afraid of her? I may not be able to protect you in time if she suddenly jumps up…”
Xie Ying cast a fleeting glance at him, her eyes obscured by an impenetrable mist that shielded all emotion. “Living people are scarier than the dead.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“W-what?” Gao Cheng shifted his bum, teetering on the edge of the step. He hadn’t quite grasped her meaning and tried to follow up, “You managed to find some clues?”
Xie Ying’s slightly paled lips tightened as she returned her gaze to the window, shaking her head. “Nope.”
#
The sky was adorned with white clouds billowed in layers, resembling the sweet cotton candy nestled within a child’s mouth.
What significance did that kiss hold?
Fang Chen’s tears surged forth once again. He always seemed to cry; even the slightest thing could stir up his sensitive nerves. Forgetting something important, losing memories… His heart felt like a feather, floating weightlessly in the air, unable to find solid ground amidst the unease, anxiety, and the fear he haboured towards reality.
After they parted away, Nie Shi wiped his tears for him. He didn’t say anything, but his expression seemed to show a hint of heartache. His eyelashes trembled slightly, and his words came out clumsily, simply calling Fang Chen’s name.
Fragmented images flashed before Fang Chen’s eyes, reminiscent of scenes from his memory.
It was on a certain sunny day when Fang Chen was dressed in work attire while Nie Shi wore his school uniform. One was crying, and the other was at a loss. The taste of youth was akin to seawater—salty and bitter. Their sweat left them both looking dishevelled and in a sorry plight. On that scorching summer day, Fang Chen wept bitterly. In the end, it was Nie Shi who bowed his head in apology, yielding to Fang Chen, tugging at his clothes, and calling his name. Only then did Fang Chen wipe away his tears, revealing a somewhat awkward smile, reaching out to pat Nie Shi’s head.
The memory itself was so sweet, yet Fang Chen felt agony; his throat clenched, each breath a painful struggle.
Nie Shi held Fang Chen’s hand, who made no effort to avoid and pull away this time. Fang Chen couldn’t think of a reason to do so; as long as he just suppressed the fear in his heart, Nie Shi would no longer rot.
Descending the stairs, they combed through each floor in search of Qiao Ran. Every room door on each level looked identical. Fang Chen pushed door after door futilely with his hands until they reached the first floor. He had a premonition that they wouldn’t be able to find Qiao Ran anymore.
After a long search, they returned to the twelfth floor.
Xie Ying sat on the chair closest to the corpse, her legs stretched out as if inches away from touching the blood-soaked remains.
Meanwhile, Gao Cheng peeked from the hallway, glancing behind the two of them. Noticing there was no one following behind them, he pursed his lips and said, “Haven’t found him yet? What do we do now? Shall we leave?”
“We can’t leave anymore.” Xie Ying stood up as she spoke. “It’s about to get dark.”
Only then did Gao Cheng glance into the restaurant. Indeed, the sky had already darkened outside. He couldn’t help but curse, “Damn it, it’s only been a few hours, and it’s already dark?”
“It’s arriving quicker and quicker.” Xie Ying led the way out. “Come on, let’s go back. We have to stay here for the night, and we’ll leave as soon as the day breaks.”
The darkness was descending faster, as if someone was urging them onward.
“Then what about the others? Not gonna search for them anymore?” Gao Cheng asked, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief. “We’ve wasted several hours here and achieved nothing?”
None of the three answered him. They walked straight towards the direction of the elevator, leaving Gao Cheng standing there awkwardly. In the end, he had no choice but to hastily catch up.
The curtains in the room were half drawn, casting an interplay of light and shadow within its confines. Gao Cheng plopped down on the sofa, rubbing his stomach. “What do we do now? The group’s all scattered, and there’s no food. Who knows, another monster might pop up soon!” After waiting in vain for a few hours, he couldn’t help but feel bitter deep down.
Fang Chen remained trapped in the grip of his memories, unable to break free. Many of the emotions coursing through him didn’t ring true to what he truly felt, casting shadows of doubt upon himself. If all his feelings were merely manipulated by others… then what remained of his true self?
Xie Ying pursed her lips and took the initiative to apologize. “What happened today was my fault. I’m sorry. The circumstance at that time was just too particular, and I…”
Gao Cheng, upon sensing Xie Ying's apologetic demeanour, decided to settle and call it quits. “Hey, hey, words shouldn’t be said like that, should they? Anyway, let’s hope daylight arrives soon. We’ll leave then, yeah?”
No one mentioned the three who had escaped, as they themselves were uncertain of their own safety too.
Xie Ying closed her eyes and agreed, “Alright.” She glanced at Fang Chen, her expression appeared rather complex, before settling her gaze on Nie Shi, who trailed just behind him.
Fang Chen noticed there was something amiss with her emotional state and turned back sensitively, but Xie Ying’s gaze had already drifted elsewhere.
Perhaps due to excessive weeping, Fang Chen’s eyes felt dry, prompting him to blink repeatedly. Then he continued to bury himself in trying to figure out exactly what was amiss within himself. He carefully traced back the events of recent days and realized that he hadn’t been well since the moment he opened his eyes, with Nie Shi emerging as the biggest bug. Fang Chen pursed his lips, his head throbbing from overthinking as he closed his eyes.
…
The lilies were overwhelming fragrant. Fang Chen huddled in his blanket, coughing. Tears tickled into his nostrils as he continuously wiped them away.
The surroundings were dim, and most of the children had already succumbed to slumber.
He was back in his childhood, to those days when he still lived in the orphanage.
Out of nowhere, his blanket was kicked. Little Fang Chen clenched his teeth to prevent himself from making too much noise, but then it was kicked again twice. At last, he unveiled his tear-filled, reddened eyes.
The child who kicked him was sitting right beside his head, startling him. Upon seeing him, a whimper escaped from Little Fang Chen’s lips.
“You’re so noisy. I can’t sleep.”
Little Fang Chen felt wronged. This morning, those jealous fools who envied him for being favoured by the orphanage director had thrown away his stationery and clothes. Now, he had to endure a second round of bullying by this quiet dummy who always kept to himself. Unable to hold back any longer, he burst into tears.
The supervising teacher was startled, mistakenly thought the boy had bullied Fang Chen. Despite questioning him, the boy remained silent, not uttering a word. Fearing that the commotion would disturb the other children’s sleep, the teacher called both boys outside.
The long hallway during the summer night was so cold… Fang Chen shivered.
The supervising teacher firmly assumed the boy was at fault and asked if he knew what he had done wrong, but the boy remained silent with his head bowed.
After shedding enough tears, Little Fang Chen realized that he was the one who initially disturbed others, yet he unjustly took out on the other party. He timidly raised his hand. “Teacher, it’s my fault, not his.” Then, he slowly approached the boy and apologized in a soft voice, “I’m sorry.”
After Little Fang Chen finished his words, the boy suddenly burst into tears—even his crying was as quiet as it could get. He wiped his eyes with his arm, saying, “You’re so noisy.”
“I’m sorry.” Fang Chen also felt like crying, tears swirling in his eyes. The two children then started crying in unison in the cold, long hallway.
The supervising teacher was baffled by the situation, asking them what exactly happened between the two of them.
Yeah, what happened…? When facing difficulties alone, one could grit their teeth and endure, but when accompanied by someone, it became unbearable.
Fang Chen was often made to stand as punishment for misbehaving or fighting. The most common scenario was being framed by other difficult children. Fang Chen, who stood out as a remarkable individual among them, was truly pitiful, suffering a tough time due to their behavior—experiencing its brunt firsthand.
He had stood in the long hallway during different time periods, spanning various stages of his life, from the age of five or six until his mid-teens—persisting until the day he completed junior high school. Even the director couldn’t do anything with him.
On that night, the corridor was so cold… That was the only time in Fang Chen’s memory when he stood in the hallway for a different reason, rather than due to a mistake he had made.
In the past, Little Fang Chen had always been resentful, vowing to retaliate fiercely. But this time, he knew it was his fault. He made another child cry and subjected the latter to being accused wrongly. It was as though he was no different from the children who bullied himself.
Sunshine couldn’t pierce through the darkness of night. The night was too cold, offering no warmth to embrace him. Fang Chen wailed loudly; he was in a turmoil—afraid that he, too, would become increasingly bad like the other children.
At night, there were eerie wails. Fang Chen was jolted awake abruptly, his chest feeling as if a heavy stone were pressing down on it, making breathing a struggle. The more memories flooded into his mind, the more painful he felt. His heart felt like it was being pierced, blood seeping through his skin.
The sky had completely darkened. He remembered sitting on the sofa, and unbeknownst to him, had drifted off to slumber. There were only him and Gao Cheng in the room, with the latter fast asleep, not even snoring this time.
As for Xie Ying and Nie Shi? They were nowhere to be seen.
Oh, new situation
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