“A cold breeze gently slipped into my collar.
The summer sneaked away without a sound.
The days rushed by, filling me with a myriad of emotions.
My thoughts always returning to that vivid scenery.
Following the wind that blew gently, you stepped into my heart.
In an instant transformed my entire life.
No matter how much sincerity I pour forth, I can never truly measure it.
But there’s no need to be frightened— as the wind and rain move in—”
Shao Ling watched speechlessly as Ke Xun, Wei Dong, and Luo Bu, far in the distance on the snowy land, bathed in the sunlight, singing loudly, and running wild in the cold wind.
“The Impending Winter Art Museum,” just from the name, one could tell it was a newly established gallery that was built just a few years ago. It was situated in a place of profound poetic beauty in City C. Of course, if one were to visit in autumn, one would enjoy the splendid sights of golden gingko leaves and crimson maple trees. However, it was the middle of winter right now. It was either the gnarled, bare branches of trees or the vast expanse of white snow everywhere.
The art museum was nestled deep within this landscape of white snow and black branches.
The snow on the ground was thick enough to cover the feet. Despite the clear and sunny morning, there was no sign that it was going to melt anytime soon.
It was early in the day, just around 8 AM, and there were no visitors to the area yet. The chaotic footprints in the snow all came from the three idiots in the distance.
These three built three robust-looking snowmen, but for some peculiar thoughts they had, they were now all sitting on top of these snowmen, shouting out Cantonese songs with a Lao suburban accent at the top of their lungs.
It’s as if they’re celebrating the end of the world or releasing their pent-up emotions before death.
What’s this…a doomsday carnival? Releasing pressure before death?
Shao Ling walked over steadily with a look of disapproval.
“Let it blow, let the wind blow. Wipe away, the shining tears in your eye—”
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.
Shao Ling heard Ke Xun’s voice rise to the sky.
Ktlr qfgrbc’r nblmf dejilas wluta yf j yifrrlcu obg qfbqif ktb kfgf lcab nblmfr. Pa mjgglfv j cjaegjiis rfvemalnf abcf, sfa jirb mbcajlcfv j ragjcv bo qegf sbeatoei alwygf.
Lf tfjgv atf obbarafqr mbwlcu ogbw yftlcv jcv aegcfv jgbecv ktlif rlculcu, tlr fsfygbkr gjlrfv, ilqr megnfv eq, tlr wfrrs tjlg rajcvlcu eq. Ktf reciluta rqliifv bcab atf rcbk lc ogbca bo tlw, gfoifmalcu lcab tlr fsfr, jr lo atfgf kfgf iluta lc tlr fsfr. Lf gfrfwyifv atf tjcvrbwf, mjgfogff sbecu wfc ogbw atf mjwqer bo sfjgr qjra, oeii bo mbcolvfcmf jcv fzeyfgjcmf.
In that instant, Shao Ling suddenly felt the extreme cruelty of the “paintings”.
The sunlight, the clear snow, the youth, and the song in front of him, all in the hands of the “paintings”. It felt as fragile as a piece of glass as thin as a cicada’s wing. One touch, and it would shatter.
“Let it blow, let the wind blow. Take away all the sorrow, no matter who’s in the wind——” The youth sang, slowly raising the head of the snowman and wearing a mischievous smile, and then smashed it forward towards Shao Ling’s face.
Shao Ling, who was buried in the snow by three huge snowman heads: “…” I take back all my ignorant imagination just now.
“Come on, Brother Shao, let’s have fun together!” Luo Bu was pinned down by Wei Dong on the snow, paddling in place in breaststrokes.
Shao Ling: “…Are these three really people who are about to venture into a life-threatening painting? Why are they so carefree and simple-minded…”
“What are you thinking about now?” Ke Xun sat on the headless snowman’s body, with both hands in his down jacket pockets. Half of his face tucked into the fluffy scarf as he looked at Shao Ling and laughed. “Are you secretly admiring Radish’s open-minded way of thinking?”
Shao Ling: “You’re not too different from him.”
Ke Xun smiled: “I’ve been through so many paintings already. If I don’t start to loosen up, how can I keep going? Look, whether you’re frowning and nervous or you’re happy and content, you have to enter the painting. The result is the same. Of course, you should choose a better and more enjoyable process. In this regard, Radish is even more open-minded than the rest of us—although this guy still gets scared easily.”
Shao Ling turned his gaze toward Luo Bu and Wei Dong, who were stuffing snowballs into each other’s pants. “…….” …What was I going to say… “Where are the others?”
“Well, there’s a coffee shop next to the art museum, and they’re all huddled inside,” Ke Xun pointed with his chin.
“The coffee shop opens this early?” Shao Ling looked in that direction; even the art museum wasn’t open at this time.
“The owner lives upstairs, so he came down when called,” Ke Xun jumped down from the snowman’s body and bent down to roll two large snowballs, then secretly headed toward Wei Dong and Luo Bu, who were completely oblivious.
“……” Shao Ling no longer wanted to pay attention to the chaotic antics of these three anymore. He was more curious about how Ke Xun managed to build such sturdy snowmen that even a big guy like him could sit on without them collapsing. He kicked one of the snowmen and the tip of his foot sank into its body, stopped by something hard inside.
“……………” Okay, inside there was a large piece of rockery. He hit his foot. That hurt.
“Impending Winter Art Museum” was going to open at 9:30 AM, and there was still nearly an hour left. Shao Ling decided to retreat into the coffee shop to warm up and get away from the idiots.
Mu Yian and Qin Ci sat facing each other, slightly tilting their heads as they gazed at the snowy scene outside and the three idiots playing in the snow.
Zhu Haowen and Fang Fei sat separately on the side, both absorbed in their phones.
Shao Ling felt that everyone now was like the night before taking the college entrance exam when they put aside all the review materials, stopped thinking about anything related to textbooks, and made every effort to relax their bodies and minds, preparing to face that fateful moment with the most relaxed and full-hearted emotions.
Shao Ling was a bit unaccustomed to this state — even during the college entrance exam back then, he studied until the last moment.
“Impending Art Museum, originally intended to be an indoor theme park, had some issues with the internal team responsible for the project. The project was shelved, and it was later rebuilt into an art museum, retaining the name of the previous theme park. This is similar to the situation of the Old Station Art Museum. This seems to further confirm the clue we summarized,” Shao Ling said, standing beside a four-person booth, looking at Mu Yiran and the others.
Mu Yiran nodded slightly. “The person in charge has quite a background. Because of a car accident, his photos were posted online. From his luxury car, Internet users dug deep into his complicated interpersonal relationships and private life, which involved some relatively sensitive events. This led to the suspension of the project, and it was shelved for more than a year.”
“Whether it’s intentional or not, it seems that there’s always a force in the dark eliminating all irrelevant factors to build the art museum exactly where it wants to be built.” Qin Ci added.
“Haven’t we already discussed this in the group chat? Why are we repeating them here?” Fang Fei, who had her eyes on her phone screen, looked strangely at the men in front of her.
“Nervous emotions tend to make people repeat themselves,” Zhu Haowen kept his head down, and casually threw out a sentence.
Shao Ling and Qin Ci: “……”
Shao Ling shook his head slightly. “I always feel… that I haven’t prepared enough to enter the painting.”
“In truth,” Qin Ci comforted him, “our previous experiences with the paintings have shown that no matter how much preparation we do in advance, the painting we ultimately enter is never any of the ones we have studied in advance. So it’s better to go with the flow, and not put too much pressure on yourself.”
Shao Ling lowered his eyelids. He sat down at an empty seat nearby and ordered a cup of white coffee.
Halfway through drinking, the shop door swung open with a burst of cold wind, and the three snow-playing idiots trooped in.
“Boss, give me a latte,” Wei Dong removed his hat and called out loudly, “the most handsome one here will pay the bill.”
He gestured with his hand to encompass the area where all eight of them were sitting.
The owner came over with a tray and asked Ke Xun, “So, is this gentleman paying the bill?”
“Boss has a keen eye,” Ke Xun laughed. “Let me ask, are there a lot of people visiting the art museum next door these few days?”
The boss shook his head and replied, “It’s been snowing for the past few days, so there were almost no visitors. There are no art exhibitions going on either. However, today might be an exception. A film crew was here yesterday for location scouting. While they were drinking coffee here, I overheard them saying they’d be coming today to film a few scenes. They mentioned that because this art museum has few visitors, it’s convenient for shooting.”
After the owner left, Shao Ling asked the veteran members, “Is there no way to prevent others from entering the target exhibition hall?”
The deaths of the few young people in “Inn” had left everyone’s mood low for a long time.
As expected, the only survivor, Cao Youning, also didn’t appear here.
“There’s no way,” sighed Qin Ci. “For those of us who have the ‘tickets’, that is, those who have entered the paintings, the latest time we can enter the painting is before 8 p.m. on the same day. If you miss this time, you won’t be able to enter the painting again, and you’ll die an unnatural death within a few days.
But the newcomers in the real world don’t seem to have this restriction. In other words, when we enter the painting, if not enough people have gathered, the time inside the painting stops, and it only resumes when the newcomers are all present.”
“And newcomers in the real world might not even arrive at the art museum and enter the painting until three days later. Of course, so far, we haven’t had such a situation occur, but in a previous painting, ‘Pure Land,’ there was a case where time inside the painting stopped when there were not enough people. So, we speculate that if there’s not enough people, the time inside the painting will remain frozen until all people are present.”
“So, those who are meant to come will come regardless,” Wei Dong shrugged his shoulders with a hint of resignation. “If you are fated to enter the painting, you can’t escape this misfortune no matter what. Don’t worry too much about others, President Shao. You can only protect what you can protect, else in the end, you’ll only feel frustration and helplessness.”
Shao Ling fell into silence again.
“Out of sight, out of mind. Let’s go. Museum’s about to open,” said Ke Xun as he stood up. “Let’s go in first so we don’t have to worry about others. Whoever is meant to be will be.”
With a clatter, Luo Bu almost dropped his cup, clutching his stomach as he looked up at Ke Xun. “W-We’re just going in like that? Aren’t we going to wait a bit longer? I need to go to the bathroom…”
“Go ahead,” Ke Xun squeezed his shoulder. “If we enter earlier, we can have more time to explore the environment inside the painting. It’s better to enter early than late, and you can’t avoid this anyway.”
Luo Bu’s lips quivered, and he barely stood up gripping Ke Xun’s arm. “I’m not going anymore, let’s…head inside.”
The group walked through the snow towards the art museum.
Luo Bu was at the back, and if it weren’t for Ke Xun holding onto him, he would’ve given in to his wobbly legs and sat down on the ground, stubbornly refusing to move forward.
He was like a child who was afraid of getting a shot at the doctor’s office. The closer they got to the clinic, the more he wanted to escape, and the more frightened and anxious he became.
Ke Xun pulled him closer, wrapping his arm around Luo Bu’s shoulder and bringing him forward. He hummed trying to comfort him as they walked. “A cold breeze gently slipped into my collar. The summer sneaked away without a sound… No matter how much sincerity I pour forth, I can never truly measure it. But there’s no need to be frightened— as the wind and rain move in—”
“Let it blow, let the wind blow. Take away all the sorrow, no matter who’s in the wind——” Luo Bu’s voice quivered as he hummed along, and a string of cold tears fell onto the muddy snow beneath his feet.
thanks for the chapter
A new arc! Let’s go!
Reminds me of a stressed radish before cooking 😭 thank you for the chapter!
..I can’t get the mental image out of my head-
I want to cry with him
Thank you for your translation ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️