Chapter 8

It would be a shame if someone so young died from illness like that, wouldn't it?

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Fang Ji's expression subtly changed, and after a moment, he managed to say, "I'm... sorry."

But Lin Lang smiled a little, "It's okay. My mother didn't like me."

Fang Ji furrowed his brow, a vague suspicion forming in his mind, "Your mother? Would she hit you like your father?"

Lin Lang hesitated, his gaze flickering, "She... she treated me badly. I don't have any feelings for her, and she doesn't have any feelings for me either..."

"Then... would your father hit her in the same way?"

"When my mother got angry, he would hit her."

Fang Ji's face darkened slightly, and the suspicion in his mind grew heavier. He stared at Lin Lang's eyes and pressed further, "Do you know your mother's name?"

As his words fell, Lin Lang's expression changed. He shrank back, a hint of fear flashing in his eyes.

"What's wrong? Don't you know her name?" Fang Ji stared at his reaction intently. "How did people in the village refer to her?"

"Qiu...," Lin Lang's voice trembled, "I heard them call her A Qiu."

"Just one character, Qiu? What's her surname?"

"I don't know."

"Was she from Shangyang Village? Have you met your grandfather, grandmother, or any other relatives on her side?"

"No."

Fang Ji lowered his head, his face obscured in the shadows of the lamplight. After a prolonged silence, he spoke, "Lin Lang, without your father, do you think you could have a better life?"

Lin Lang was taken aback, seemingly not anticipating this question. He stared at Fang Ji in astonishment, "What...?"

Fang Ji pressed his lips together, and a brief silence enveloped the room. After a while, he continued, "What I mean is, given his age, he'll probably go before you, right?"

"I don't know, Fang Ji," Lin Lang's eyes held a dazed look as he murmured, "I only have my father."

"How could that be?" Fang Ji looked at him and said, "Lin Lang, if you're willing, you can come with me. You can go to school, work, or do anything else you want. If you're interested, just let me know. You don't have to stay here your whole life, and you don't have to depend on your father to live. As for your father..." Fang Ji's expression darkened slightly, "He's bound to die sooner or later. When he's gone, what will you do? Will you follow him?"

Lin Lang lowered his head, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly asked, "But, when the village's sicknesses are all treated, won't you leave?"

Fang Ji's eyebrow arched, and a hint of teasing crept into his tone, "What? Can't bear to part with me?"

Lin Lang choked up, not continuing the conversation.

"Why are you so stubborn? I told you that you can take as much time as you need. Even if I leave, you can secretly contact me. I have a way to find you," Fang Ji finished dressing his wounds and said, "Don't think about these things now. Just get some sleep. I'll be here watching over you. If you feel uncomfortable during the night, call me."

Fang Ji got up and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness once more. Lin Lang watched as Fang Ji turned away in the darkness, bending down, seemingly looking at him. For some reason, he quickly closed his eyes, pretending to be in deep slumber. He heard Fang Ji's faint breathing above his head. Lin Lang's eyelids fluttered slightly, leaving a tiny gap, and he saw Fang Ji sitting at the bedside, resting his hand on Lin Lang's fingers, while his other hand supported his head against the bedpost. Fang Ji's breath gradually became even, as if he was dozing off.

Lin Lang lowered his eyes, his gaze resting on Fang Ji's hand. His palm curled lightly like a feather with almost no weight, resting gently on Lin Lang's fingers.

He swallowed, feeling the unnatural warmth on his face. He shifted his gaze away, forcing himself to close his eyes. However, waves of pain, sparked by his injuries, held his consciousness captive, preventing him from drifting into deep sleep. In a state between sleep and wakefulness, his brow furrowed, and sweat formed on his forehead, his entire body aching terribly. Gradually, his eyes closed tighter, and his breathing became more labored.

"A Lang..."

In a daze, he heard someone calling his name. He opened his eyes, only to see his long-lost mother sitting cross-legged at the bedside. Her hand gently touched his feverish forehead. Dim light cast shadows on her furrowed brow and eye sockets, creating dark marks on her face full of wrinkles.

"Cough, cough..." He heard himself cough, followed by a harsh wheeze like a broken bellows. His chest felt like it was crushed by a heavy stone, and his whole body was painfully sore. His mother's brows furrowed even deeper as she held him tightly in her arms, rocking him gently. Her hair was as scattered as withered grass, tickling his face and stinging slightly.

He closed his eyes and vaguely saw dim lamplight—a small, bright point like a star in the dark night. Despite its faintness, it eased his mind.

With a bang, it seemed like the door was abruptly pushed open by something. Cold wind, carrying tiny snowflakes, rushed in like velvet, extinguishing the last remaining lamplight.

He shivered at the sudden chill, his entire body trembling. When he opened his eyes again, he saw his mother bowing her head, buried in his chest. She didn't move. Out of nowhere, she suddenly lifted her head, her hollow eyes fixating on his face.

Lin Lang's entire body jerked, his eyes widening with fear. The next moment, she let out a piercing scream, her hands tugging at her grass-like hair. In the process, patches of scalp peeled off along with the hair, revealing the crimson flesh and bone beneath.

Lin Lang cried out, instinctively pushing her away and curling into the corner, trembling as he held his knees.

She stood up, her eyes locked onto the raging wind and snow outside. After a long while, as if under a spell, she took step after step outside, standing alone in the vast snowy night. Her blood dripped onto the thick bedding like blossoming plum flowers, extending all the way to a place he couldn't see.

"Damn it! My wine! A Qiu!"

"A Qiu!"

...

Outside the door, a commotion erupted, and a flurry of footsteps stretched from the courtyard to the open fields.

"Over here! He's here!"

"Damn it! All stiff!"

"Bad luck! Such bad luck!"

...

The trail of blood and mud extended halfway up the mountain. When Lin Lang stumbled his way there, a dense crowd had already formed a human wall.

Taking advantage of his small stature, Lin Lang squeezed through the gaps between people's legs. The men had their hands buried in the snow, as if digging something. He hadn't quite figured it out yet when one of the men grabbed a corner of the object and lifted it abruptly, causing a flurry of snow to dance in the air. Squinting, Lin Lang caught a glimpse of a pale face obscured by the snow, hanging upside down. The grass-like hair pointed straight downward, resembling the roots of a decaying plant, piercing the frozen earth. Lin Lang's expression changed, and it seemed that even his blood was frozen by the frigid air. His knees gave way, and he fell to the ground. The next moment, the lifeless white eyes suddenly turned, locking onto his gaze. The lips, tinged with purplish-black, curved downward, and the corners of the mouth twitched as they uttered a slow, drawn-out call, "A Lang—!"

Lin Lang's pupils contracted, and he let out a startled cry.

"Lin Lang! Wake up!"

He shivered uncontrollably, suddenly opening his eyes.

"Lin Lang?"

A figure moved before his eyes, and Lin Lang turned his head. "...Fang Ji?"

Fang Ji let out a soft sound, asking, "Did you have a nightmare?"

Lin Lang's breath was shallow, and cold sweat mixed with the wound, causing a painful itch. "...It seems like it."

The remnants of the dream still seemed to linger before him. He propped his eyelids open, afraid to sleep again. He kept his gaze fixed on Fang Ji's face, and his racing heart gradually calmed down. His face felt warm for some inexplicable reason. He shifted his gaze away and scooted to the side, freeing up a large portion of the bed. He said, "You can come up and sleep."

Fang Ji arched an eyebrow, teasing, "What do you want?"

"I'll go down there." Lin Lang propped himself up on his arms, about to get up.

Fang Ji couldn't help but chuckle, quickly stopping him. He climbed onto the bed himself, cupping Lin Lang's face with both hands, drawing him close. "Lin Lang! Look at me!"

Lin Lang didn't understand, his head was held in place by Fang Ji, so he could only look straight into his eyes. Fang Ji's face was bathed in the pale moonlight, his pupils seemingly filled with a pool of water. Lin Lang's gaze trailed down, stopping at his slightly parted lips. His heart started to race, and just as he was about to shift his gaze away, Fang Ji suddenly raised a hand to cover his eyes. Lin Lang's vision went black, and he heard Fang Ji whispering in his ear, "Now, close your eyes!"

Lin Lang was puzzled, his head still held by Fang Ji. He had no choice but to close his eyes. Fang Ji continued, "Can you see anything now?"

"...I can't see anything."

"Try harder to see!"

Lin Lang hesitated, and he faintly discerned a lingering image before his closed eyes. "It seems... like you?"

"Right! This is called an afterimage!" Fang Ji smiled, "Images can remain in your vision for a short time after you close your eyes. You saw me just now, and then when you close your eyes, it's like stamping an image in your brain. That way, you won't have nightmares when you fall asleep!" Fang Ji paused, his gaze focused on Lin Lang's lips as they twitched slightly. Suddenly, he asked, "Did you just smile a moment ago?"

Lin Lang cleared his throat, keeping a straight face. "No!"

"Are you not convinced?" Fang Ji said, "When I was a child, I used this method with my little sister when she had nightmares. She said it worked!"

"Your little sister?" Lin Lang asked, "Have you tried it yourself?"

"No," Fang Ji replied, "My little sister only gave me nightmares from childhood to now, so I never tried it."

"Why? Is your little sister very fierce?"

A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of Fang Ji's mouth. "She's definitely fiercer than I am. Back when I was in primary school, there was a classmate who bullied me every day and threatened me not to tell anyone. I was so scared that I hid under the covers and shed tears secretly. My sister saw it, and the next day, I went to the restroom, and when I came back, I heard my desk mate screaming like he was being slaughtered like a pig. She was on top of him, biting his arm. He had several lumps on his head, but she didn't let go."

"Then... what happened after that? Did he continue to bully you?"

"After that... that boy would avoid me whenever he saw me."

Lin Lang's expression relaxed slightly, and he asked, "And now, are there still people bullying you?"

Fang Ji hesitated, the smile on his face fading. After a moment of silence, he said, "...Of course."

Lin Lang's expression changed a bit. He was about to say something when he heard Fang Ji's voice, tinged with a playful tone, near his ear. "Since you're so worried about me, how about leaving this place with me? I could consider hiring you as a bodyguard, what do you think?"

Lin Lang choked up, and Fang Ji chuckled. "You believe whatever I say. Why are you so gullible?"

Lin Lang pursed his lips, turned over, and went to sleep.

Fang Ji raised his hand to cover Lin Lang's eyes gently and whispered, "Sleep."

The palms of Fang Ji's hands were a bit cold, coolly pressed against his eyes. Unknowingly, Lin Lang's heart relaxed.

And so, the night passed without dreams.

The next morning, Fang Ji was awakened by the chattering of birds in the forest. He reached out lazily, only to touch something icy cold. He opened his eyes suddenly. Just then, the curtain at the door was lifted from the outside, and Lin Lang entered carrying dishes, placing breakfast on the table.

Fang Ji quickly sat up and reached to unbutton Lin Lang's collar slightly. He saw that Lin Lang's wounds had stopped bleeding, which eased his mind a little. "Does it still hurt?"

"It's fine now," Lin Lang's shoulders tensed slightly, and he deftly moved away from Fang Ji's touch as he turned around to fetch a bowl. "You can go freshen up and eat."

He left the room, closing the door behind him. Seeing Fang Ji still standing there with his face turned towards him and a faint smile on his lips, Lin Lang quickly looked away. He pulled out a chair and was about to sit down when he heard a series of knocks on the door.

Lin Lang's expression stiffened. He pulled his collar up slightly, turned around intending to go outside, but Fang Ji suddenly grabbed his shoulder. "If it's someone looking for me, you eat first. I'll go answer the door."

As the courtyard door opened, Feng You instinctively took a step back, preparing to dodge. However, when he saw Fang Ji opening the door, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Fang Ji lowered his gaze, his eyes stopping at the notebook in Feng You's hand. He smiled and said, "brother Feng, thank you very much."

A faint blush appeared on Feng You's face as he handed the notebook to Fang Ji. Chuckling, he said, "Why be so polite with me?!"

Fang Ji closed the courtyard door, sitting down on the steps. He absentmindedly flipped open the notebook and scanned the names written inside.

Feng You hesitated for a moment, then spoke up, "Fang Ji, if you're not willing to stay here..."

"Brother Feng, what characters are written here?"

Feng You's voice paused, and he followed Fang Ji's pointing finger to see. He said, "Spring!"

Fang Ji nodded. Seeing him taking the writing seriously, Feng You couldn't help but say, "I was worried you'd be in a hurry, so I stayed up several nights to finish it. It was dark at night, so the handwriting might not be very good!"

"How could that be?" Fang Ji smiled faintly. "One's handwriting reflects one's personality."

The smile on Feng You's face deepened. He was about to be modest again when he suddenly felt a slight itch on his leg. His throat tightened, and he saw that Fang Ji had spread the notebook open on his lap. One of Fang Ji's hands was lightly circling the name "Wang Quan." Feng You's face burned up instantly, his whole body stiffened, and he quickly tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"Brother Feng, is there only one person surnamed Wang in the village?" Fang Ji suddenly asked.

Feng You lowered his head, his gaze following the curve of Fang Ji's profile down to his snow-white shoulder and collarbone. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "Ah... yes, there's also his mother, I guess. Everyone calls her Old Lady Wang. We got used to it; she might not have been originally surnamed Wang."

"And his father?" Fang Ji asked again.

"His father... has been dead for several years..." Feng You's voice had just fallen when he trembled all over. He stood up suddenly, the notebook falling by Fang Ji's feet. Feng You took a few steps forward, turning away with his back facing Fang Ji. His ears turned red as if they were about to drip blood. He stammered, "Why... why are you asking about him?"

"The symptoms seem mild, but the disease is already severe," Fang Ji gazed at Feng You's retreating figure, his eyes slowly growing colder. He stood up, leaving a clear footprint on the name "Wang Quan." "It's such a waste for someone so young to die from an illness like this."