Chapter 4:Happy New Year

Time flies, winter gives way to spring. As the New Year's Eve of 2016 approached, the company took two days off in advance.

On the afternoon of the 4th, a group of employees packed up their workstations, their chatter and laughter filling the air with a sense of festivity.

Zhou Mingrui, whose hometown was far away, had managed to grab a train ticket and was eagerly awaiting his journey home for the New Year.

This should have been a joyous occasion, but as he tidied up his desk, his demeanor told a different story. He looked listless, lacking his usual energy, and yawned several times, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Meng Xian, seated at the workstation next to Zhou Mingrui, noticed his condition. She raised her head and commented lightly, "You haven't had enough rest in the past few days."

Zhou Mingrui paused mid-yawn, his expression a fleeting tableau of complex emotions. Meng Xian noticed his typically vibrant face now seemed burdened, his pale skin accentuating the dark circles under his eyes.

For a moment, Meng Xian saw a high-level expression management chart flash across his features: one part grievance, two parts madness, three parts grief, and four parts sadness.

He stood there, silent, before finally explaining, "My original roommate moved out a week ago, and a new one moved in two days later. This person, well, they're a bit…"

For Zhou Mingrui, who usually maintained an even temperament, to display such an indescribable expression hinted at the sheer exasperation the new roommate had caused.

Meng Xian listened quietly, her thoughts aligning with his predicament. "No need to say more, I understand."

Seeing the exhaustion in Zhou Mingrui's eyes, she could easily guess that his new roommate was likely the kind of person who disrupted the peace.

Perhaps they were an enthusiast of late-night activities, clomping around in hard-soled slippers or blasting loud music at ungodly hours.

"It's like having an annoying roommate who doesn't understand the concept of peace," she thought sympathetically.

Zhou Mingrui sighed again, lowering his head slightly. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to look more refreshed. When he raised his eyes, a bright smile appeared on his lips and eyebrows, masking his fatigue.

"The New Year is coming soon. Let's not talk about these depressing things," he said, forcing a cheerfulness that Meng Xian could see through. "Meng, I'd like to wish you a happy new year in advance. See you next year!"

Meng Xian nodded, her eyes softening with understanding. "See you next year, Zhou."

After their brief exchange, they walked to the company gate together, the crisp winter air biting at their faces. Zhou Mingrui turned and gave her a final wave before heading towards the train station.

Meng Xian watched him go, her mind swirling with thoughts.

As she stood there, the cold wind tugging at her coat, she reflected on the changes she had witnessed in Zhou Mingrui over the past few months. She admired his resilience and spirit, even in the face of discomfort and stress.

He reminded her so much of Klein Moretti, the protagonist from the novel there the same but at the same time its different, but with a touch more warmth and a sense of familiarity that made him endearing.

...

I went straight back to my rented house.

The rental house is very close to the company, only about ten minutes' walk away. At first, I shared it with a couple, but later they got married and moved into a new house, leaving me alone.

I remember the original owner of this body had attended their wedding, a happy occasion filled with laughter and new beginnings.

Walking through the streets, I noticed the night sky shimmering with stars. As I continued, the first snowflakes of the evening began to fall, gently drifting down and landing on my hand.

I paused, watching as the delicate snowflake melted in the warmth of my palm, the cold wind blowing it away. I sighed, shaking my head and continued walking, lost in thought.

As I walked, something caught my eye. A small box lay beneath a tree, almost hidden from view. Initially, I was about to ignore it and walk on, but a faint stirring sound from within the box piqued my curiosity. I glanced at the people passing by, all seemingly oblivious to the box.

To my surprise, inside was a black cat with brown eyes staring up at me. It looked like a stray, with no collar or signs of ownership.

Something about the cat felt familiar. Then it clicked.

I started to laugh, remembering the community's metaphor of Klein Moretti as a cat. "Curiosity killed the cat," they'd say, and it applied to Klein far too well.

The guy was alive because of the castle above the gray fog; otherwise, he would have died long ago thanks to his cat-like curiosity. He practically had nine lives, having survived so many close calls.

The cat looked at me, confused by my laughter, and then it started meowing, hopping down from the box and approaching me.

It rubbed its body against my foot, purring softly. I smiled, kneeling down to pet it gently.

"Do you want to come home with me?" I asked softly.

The cat seemed to understand, meowing more insistently and purring louder as I stroked its fur. I smiled, picking it up gently.

"Let's take you home."

"I guess we're the only ones celebrating this New Year's Eve,"

I murmured, holding him close as I continued walking.

After returning home, Meng Xian set the cat down and watched as it began to explore the apartment with curious, tentative steps.

The cat's soft paws padded across the wooden floor, its sleek black fur shining under the dim lights. Meng Xian smiled faintly at the cat's antics and headed to her bedroom.

She changed out of her work clothes, opting for something comfortable for the evening. Once she was dressed, she made her way to the kitchen. With a practiced efficiency, Meng Xian took out the ingredients she had stored in the refrigerator.

The process of cooking was soothing—a simple meal tonight, nothing too elaborate, just enough to stave off hunger and provide a sense of normalcy.

She prepared a modest dinner: stir-fried vegetables and a bit of rice. As the food simmered, she made a fresh pot of coffee, its rich aroma filling the kitchen.

After everything was ready, she carried the meal and the coffee to the living room.

Her apartment was a two-bedroom space. She occupied the side bedroom, the other room left vacant after the couple who had once shared it with her moved out.

The décor was festive, with bright colors and traditional patterns—something that was likely more appealing to the elderly, but it had grown on Meng Xian. Even after the couple left, she continued to live in the side bedroom, finding comfort in its familiarity.

Meng Xian set down the bowl of shrimp for the cat, who eagerly began to eat. She watched the cat's contented meows and purrs, feeling a sense of quiet satisfaction.

She settled into a chair and let her gaze wander over the room, her thoughts drifting.

"What should I name you?" she mused aloud, her eyes fixed on the cat as it enjoyed its meal.

"Maybe Klein?"

She hesitated, shaking her head slightly.

"No, that's a bit too… personal."

Her smile widened as she considered

another option. "How about Starlight? Yeah, that might work."

The cat looked up at her, pausing its meal for a moment, as if considering the name. It meowed softly, and Meng Xian's heart warmed at the sound.

"Alright then, Starlight it is," she said with a gentle nod.

Meng Xian turned her attention to the table, her mind drifting back to the changes she had made since discovering her connection to "Lord of Mysteries." The master bedroom, once a traditional sleeping space, was now half study and half library.

She had turned the small enclosed balcony into a personal study area where she could delve into her research and hobbies undisturbed.

Sitting down at her desk, Meng Xian began revising the drawings on the board, focusing intently for nearly two hours. Her work was meticulous, each line and detail carefully considered.

After completing the assignment given by her "professional teacher," she sent the document via WeChat, waiting for feedback with a quiet anticipation.

As she glanced at the timer on her phone, she couldn't help but compare her progress to previous days. "Today's time is 1 hour and 52 minutes," she noted, "which is 1 minute and 36 seconds less than yesterday."

It was a small but satisfying improvement. Her goal was to bring her preparation time down to one and a half hours, and she was steadily approaching that milestone.

After finishing her homework routine, Meng Xian donned her headphones and reached for an old Russian book.

The book's cover was striking in its simplicity—a background of yellowish-gray with three thick red double arrows at its center, which had retained their brightness over the years despite the book's aging.

She had decided to learn Russian, motivated by the knowledge that the background setting of the Evernight Goddess According to the author's interview, her character, the Evernight Goddess, had a background set in Europe before her transmigration. She was part of the higher management of a big company.

Even though she had read the book many times, learning Russian was an additional way to deepen her understanding and connection to her

The music began softly in Meng Xian's headphones, starting with a gentle, melodious flute that seemed to weave a delicate tapestry of sound. But the flute's light notes were soon replaced by a low-pitched piano accompaniment, whose melancholic melody resonated deeply within her.

The piano's notes were slow and sorrowful, each key struck with a careful, deliberate weight that seemed to mirror the contemplative mood of the evening.

After a few moments, a child's voice joined the music, clear but tinged with a faint sadness. The voice sang:

"Прости меня, младший брат!

"Forgive me, dear brother!

"Я так пред тобой виноват.

"I am a sinner before you.

"Пытаться вернуть нельзя

"Trying to save the lives taken away by the earth

"Того, что взяла земля.

"It's impossible..."

Meng Xian, sitting quietly with the Russian book in her hands, was deeply engrossed in both the music and the text.

She had marked the page number from her last reading session and had decided to combine her Russian study with this poignant song.

The combination of reading comprehension and listening training created a rich, immersive experience.

Her eyes moved over the page as she analyzed the lyrics, her mind piecing together the intricacies of the language. Each Russian word felt like a puzzle piece, contributing to a larger, melancholic picture. She noted the words:

[Пытаться] - to try,

[вернуть] - to return,

[нельзя] - it is impossible.

Together, "Пытаться вернуть нельзя"

conveyed the sense of trying to save a situation that was beyond recovery.

The last word, нельзя, was not just a simple "impossible" but carried a deeper implication, a resignation to the futility of the effort.

Meng Xian noticed that the phrase "Trying to save the lives taken away by the earth" was more about the inevitability of loss, an acknowledgment of things that couldn't be reclaimed.

She flipped through the pages of her book, her eyes scanning the text with practiced precision. The lyrics continued to resonate, and as she deciphered the next line:

Того, что взяла земля – What the earth took

Meng Xian pondered the translation. The literal interpretation would question what the earth had given birth to, but in context, it was more about the life that was irrevocably lost.

The original meaning was not to ask what the earth had produced but rather to reflect on what had been taken away and could not be returned.

The song, titled "БРАТЬЯ" (Brothers),

continued to play, and as it reached the chorus, a soft children's choir joined in, adding a layer of ethereal beauty to the melody:

"Милая мама! Нежная!

"Dear, gentle mother!

"Мы так любили тебя.

"We loved you so deeply.

"Но все наши силы,

"Even if we tried our best

"Потрачены были зря.

"But it was still in vain..."

Meng Xian's fingers traced the lines of the book, her mind immersed in the beauty and sorrow of the song. The lyrics spoke of deep love and the futility of efforts to change what had already been lost. The gentle sadness in the music was a mirror to the quiet resolve in her heart, a reflection of her own journey and struggles.

As the song approached its end, Meng Xian began to hum along, her voice a soft, melancholic echo of the children's chorus:

"Но что же нам делать, как быть?

"But what can we do?

"Как всё исправить, забыть?

"How to reverse it? How to forget it?

"Пытаться вернуть нельзя

"I tried my best but couldn't save it

"Того, что взяла земля.

"The life that was taken away by the earth."

The hauntingly beautiful melody lingered in her ears, and Meng Xian found herself lost in the melancholy of the lyrics.

The music's melancholic tones intertwined with her thoughts, evoking a sense of both sorrow and acceptance.

In that quiet moment, as the song faded out and the room was enveloped in silence, Meng Xian reflected on the poignant message of the music. It spoke to her in a deeply personal way, echoing the challenges and sacrifices she faced in her own life.

The sense of loss and the inevitability of some things being beyond recovery were feelings she understood all too well.

With a sigh, Meng Xian closed the book and removed her headphones. The soft glow of the lamp and the gentle snowfall outside created a cocoon of calm around her.

She looked at Starlight, who had curled up contentedly on the couch, and smiled softly.

During the Spring Festival holiday, Meng Xian found herself with a rare and precious gift: time.

Time that she usually spent commuting between her job and her rented apartment, now stretched out before her, promising moments of uninterrupted study and reflection.

She had planned her break meticulously, adjusting her schedule to embrace the freedom of the long vacation.

Gone were the days of early mornings and late nights spent balancing work and study. She had shifted her routine from going to bed at 1 a.m. and rising at 7 a.m. to a more relaxed pattern of falling asleep at 2 a.m. and waking at 6 a.m.

The change was intentional, a deliberate effort to make the most of her time off. Yet, despite her well-laid plans, Meng Xian faced a sense of isolation.

The Spring Festival, a time of family reunions and joyful gatherings, was a concept she only partially understood.

Without biological parents or close relatives in China, she felt the weight of the celebration's meaning more acutely.

On February 7, 2016, New Year's Eve, the city was alive with the sounds of festivity. From eight o'clock in the evening onward, the air crackled with the sharp pops of firecrackers and the vibrant bursts of fireworks.

The sounds wove together into a symphony of celebration, filling the sky with color and noise. Yet, within the confines of her small apartment, Meng Xian remained immersed in her studies.

Seated in her living room, she was surrounded by the soft glow of her desk lamp, which cast a warm, gentle light on her workspace.

The coffee cup in her hand, with its bittersweet aroma, provided a comforting warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold winter air outside.

The rhythmic clinking of the cup against the saucer was a subtle reminder of her solitary yet purposeful night.

Starlight, the black cat Meng Xian had found and named, lay curled up on the floor nearby, sleeping peacefully.

The cat's soft, rhythmic breathing added a sense of calm to the otherwise tense atmosphere of intense study. Meng Xian's gaze was fixed on the laptop screen, where a Russian electronic dictionary software displayed a cascade of Cyrillic characters.

Her focus was unwavering as she read aloud, carefully pronouncing each word while referencing the online pronunciation guide.

The colorful reflections of fireworks danced on her computer screen, their fleeting brilliance a stark contrast to her concentrated demeanor.

Despite the visual spectacle outside, Meng Xian's attention remained entirely absorbed in her Russian studies. The fireworks were a distant spectacle, a backdrop to her focused learning rather than a distraction.

Time seemed to blur as she lost herself in her work. The only interruption to her intense concentration came with the soft, rhythmic ticking of the clock.

It wasn't until the alarm on her cell phone rang that Meng Xian's concentration was broken. Startled, she blinked and briefly pressed her forehead, trying to shake off the disorientation.

As she looked at the time displayed on her phone's screen saver, she realized why she had set the alarm—to remind herself of the New Year's arrival.

She noted the time: "Eleven fifty-five, five minutes to midnight." This realization marked a moment of strange quiet for Meng Xian.

This was her first time waiting for the New Year's bell alone, and the significance of the moment struck her with a new intensity.

Outside, the fireworks continued to light up the night, their bursts of color and sound filling the air with a festive atmosphere that contrasted sharply with Meng Xian's quietude.

As she stared at the countdown on her screen saver, the seconds ticked away.

"Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven..." she counted silently in her mind, the anticipation building with each passing second.

The room was momentarily interrupted by a soft, unexpected movement at her feet. Meng Xian looked down to see Starlight, who had stirred from his sleep and was now meowing softly, his eyes bright and curious.

The cat's gentle purring and nuzzling at her feet were a comforting presence amidst the solitude.

Meng Xian smiled, kneeling down to pet Starlight. The simple gesture brought her a sense of warmth and companionship, making the moment feel more intimate and meaningful.

She could almost feel the cat's contentment merging with her own as she stroked his fur.

"Three, two, one, zero."

The moment the countdown reached zero, two WeChat notifications popped up on her phone's screen saver.

Meng Xian's gaze was drawn to the New Year's greetings from her two closest friends, each message a small but meaningful connection to the outside world.

The moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her balcony, casting a silvery sheen across the room. The cool, frosty light settled over Meng Xian, illuminating her features with a soft, ethereal glow.

Her dark eyes, clear and reflective under the moon's cold gaze, seemed even more profound as they scanned the messages.

A gentle smile tugged at her lips, a smile that appeared almost spontaneously.

It was as if the serenity of the night and the stillness of her apartment had imbued her with a sense of quiet contentment. With a soft murmur, she whispered,

"Happy New Year."

She reached for her phone, the cool screen warming slightly in her hand as she opened WeChat. Her first response was directed to Chen Yu, one of her oldest friends.

The message was simple but filled with warmth: "Happy New Year! You're getting older—don't stay up too late."

The reply came almost instantly in the form of a voice message. Meng Xian could almost hear Chen Yu's smile through the message, the tone warm and lively.

The brief voice clip spoke of the importance of the Spring Festival and the need to honor its traditions, then inquired about her plans to visit the welfare home.

Meng Xian pondered the message, the mention of the welfare home stirring a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. She murmured to herself, "When will I go back to the orphanage? New Year's Day, tomorrow… no, it's today."

With a smile, she typed back: "I'll go back this morning and discuss the arrangements for the June 1st birthday party with you." " Satisfied with her response, she then switched her attention to Zhou Mingrui's WeChat.

Zhou Mingrui's avatar—a cute, round, black kitten—caught Meng Xian's eye, and she glanced down at Starlight, who was sleeping contentedly on the floor.

A smile tugged at her lips as she turned her focus back to the phone. As soon as she clicked on Zhou Mingrui's message thread, she saw the notification "the other party is typing" and waited with a hint of curiosity.

When she clicked on the chat, the message "the other party is typing" appeared, and she waited with a sense of mild curiosity.

After a brief pause, Zhou Mingrui's message appeared: "Meng Xian, are you free on the 12th?"

The twelfth day of the first lunar month—just a few days away. Meng Xian considered her schedule, which was packed with study plans. Yet, she knew that life often required flexibility. She typed back quickly: "I'm free. What's up?"

The response came swiftly: "Haha, nothing special. I just wanted to invite you and I want you to meet my childhood friend that I always talk about."

Meng Xian raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. It wasn't unusual for them to have lunch together at the company cafeteria, but an invitation for dinner was rare. She had only dined out with him twice before—once when he first joined the company and she treated him as a welcome gesture, and another time to celebrate his full-time status three months later. Their interactions had always been professional or casual, so this invitation stood out.

Curiosity piqued, Meng Xian playfully replied: "What's the occasion? Did something good happen?"

She awaited his reply with a mix of anticipation and amusement.

Zhou Mingrui's next message, however, left her a bit puzzled: "Nothing in particular. I just wanted to treat you since you've always been so kind to me since we met."

Meng Xian was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected sentiment. It was a straightforward yet heartfelt gesture, a simple expression of gratitude that felt both sincere and touching.

She pondered for a moment, her thoughts drifting to the genuine nature of Zhou Mingrui's offer.

With a smile that reflected her acceptance and appreciation, Meng Xian replied,

"Sure, I'm free."