Chapter 74

Chapter 74

An Zhe awakened from a tranquil dream.

In his dream, he had no eyes, no ears, or any sensory organs that humans possess. It felt as if he had returned to a time long, long ago when he was deeply buried in soft, moist earth. But it wasn't soil – he seemed to be near Lu Fen, not far from the colonel's side. He was closer to the captain's breath than to the embrace of death.

Upon opening his eyes, he gazed blankly at the gray ceiling. He had been trying hard not to recall the people and events of the Northern Base. He could sense the fading of his memories – the poet, the doctor, Colin – their faces and personalities almost erased from his mind. The happenings in that city were gradually slipping away, yet Lu Fen appeared more frequently in his dreams.

Sometimes, when he opened his eyes, he would momentarily believe that the man was right beside him. The deep green vine leaves hanging by the window hadn't withered before they were blanketed by frost, frozen into a translucent beauty, like Lu Fen's eyes watching over him.

Yet the chill of the outside world swiftly enveloped him once more.

Outside the window, a leaden blanket of clouds sagged low over the mountain peaks, their rigid surfaces dusted with frost like pine blossoms. Winter had arrived.

The folks at the Highland Institute still took great care of him. Ten days ago, he had received a knitted scarf and a pair of rabbit-fur gloves. Each day, bundled in these warm items, he would leave the main building to spend his time in Boli's laboratory within the White Tower.

The Simpson cage consumed an enormous amount of electricity, while the wind turbine's power output was limited. As a result, it could only be operational for two hours each day. During the remaining hours, Boli would engage in other activities. On occasions, he would impart to An Zhe knowledge about physics and biology, such as how everything in the universe is composed of molecules and atoms, and how atoms can further be divided into electrons, protons, and neutrons. Yet, this was far from the end; the fundamental substance making up this world remains unseen by anyone.

"A blind man perceives the world by reaching out and touching, yet he can never grasp its entirety. Our understanding of the world is similarly limited, destined to see only surfaces. We entertain many hypotheses, but we lack the means to confirm their veracity," Boli explained.

As he spoke, the laboratory window was thrown open by the howling north wind atop the mountain. The brown-skinned Indian man rose to close it, while Boli Joan reached over to tug An Zhe's scarf a little higher up.

The scarf wrapped around An Zhe's entire neck, burying him in the soft and warm fabric. He asked Boli, "Aren't you cold?"

"I'm getting old; many of my faculties have dulled," Boli Joan said, his gentle gray-blue eyes meeting An Zhe's. In those orbs, An Zhe could see his own reflection, bundled up in a white mass. But he didn't gaze for long before lowering his head to cough. It was bitterly cold outside, yet within his lungs, it felt as if a fire was raging, inflating with a painful burn.

Boli gently rubbed his back, then passed the steaming water on the table in front of him.

"Any more antibiotics?" he asked the Indian man named Rum.

"There's still some left."

After his coughing fit, An Zhe shivered as he swallowed the medicine. A brazier was lit in the room, but he still felt an icy chill.

"I can't determine the cause of your episodes," Boli said, wiping away the fine cold sweat on An Zhe's forehead with his finger. Sorrow was evident in his gray-blue eyes as he whispered, "There aren't any advanced instruments here... I'm sorry."

An Zhe shook his head. "It's alright."

Boli remarked that human understanding of the world was always superficial. At times, he felt that his comprehension of humans was merely surface-level. When he returned to the Abyss, he never expected such hospitality from humans.

Take Boli, for instance, he wasn't a medical expert, but as An Zhe's health deteriorated, he started delving into the medical journals in the database. Rum would assist in the search as well.

Sometimes, An Zhe felt guilty because of their kindness, for he was not human, and this treatment felt like a stolen privilege under the disguise of human skin. He began to fear that his true form would be revealed on the day he died.

Once, he had told Boli that there was no need to go through such trouble. Boli had then gently placed the back of his hand on An Zhe's forehead and whispered, "You're like my child."

When Boli was away, An Zhe cautiously asked Rum why Mr. Boli treated him with such kindness.

Rum replied that Mr. Boli loved everyone here.

"Before I came to the research institute, half of my body was decayed, and my mind was foggy," Rum rolled up his pants, revealing a muscular leg marred with grotesque scars and bulging veins. The usually taciturn man spoke at length, "Mr. Lu Fen worked tirelessly around the clock to heal me for half a year. I never believed there could be such a person in this world."

He continued, "I wasn't a good person before. As a mercenary, I had endangered my comrades. Now, by rescuing three fellow countrymen from outside, I feel like I'm making amends. Being good feels pretty great, and it's better to be human than a monster. Many people here share the same sentiment; nobody doesn't admire Mr. Lu Fen."

An Zhe vividly recalled how, at that moment, he inexplicably thought of Lu Fen - an odd connection. He wondered how Lu Fen was doing. Immediately, he shook his head, banishing the contrasting profile of Boli from his mind.

Rum was an amateur music enthusiast. When he had nothing to do, he would practice playing the harmonica with an old, tattered sheet music. Occasionally, he would teach An Zhe, and the sound was delightfully pleasant. However, Rum said that humans once possessed instruments millions of times more beautiful than the harmonica, capable of creating majestic and awe-inspiring symphonies when played together.

As he spoke, Boli joined them, jesting, "If Rum had been born a hundred years ago, he would've been an exceptional musician."

Rum, typically taciturn, smiled and produced an old radio, flipping the cassette and pressing play. From the rusty machine, a tumultuous or soothing rhythm emerged, a symphony of countless instruments with their unique timbres and melodies. These tones and rhythms combined into a grand, majestic sound that reverberated through the laboratory, warmed by a charcoal fire. Below the white building, a figure with a beast-like claw for one arm waved, and Rum hung the radio on the balcony rail, amplifying the volume.

The lively melody, smooth as flowing water, penetrated the frost-covered windowpanes. Before the music started, an announcement was made: it was Beethoven's "Spring Sonata." An Zhe, resting his cheek in his hand, listened. The spring in the abyss was beautiful too, but he doubted he would witness it.

—It was at this moment that he received a message from the Northern Base.

The dormant communication channel flickered with red light—a single, anonymous contact appeared on the list.

An Zhe summoned the communication interface. The anonymous sender had only typed two brief lines, a dozen words.

"Winter has arrived."

"Monsters behaving abnormally. Caution advised."

Zooming in on the text, An Zhe turned to Boli. "Sir."

"It's Doctor Ji from the Northern Base," Boli said. "Over the years, he's been the only one secretly communicating with me."

The mention of "Doctor Ji" momentarily disoriented An Zhe. He asked, "Should we respond?"

"Reply," Boli spoke softly. "You can respond for me."

*

At the Northern Base.

The communication channel flickered, displaying a reply message from the Highland Institute.

"We've received it."

"Thank you for the reminder. Please ensure the base's safety as well."

The doctoral candidate strolled past the communication screen.

"Colonel Lu, tsk," he raised his voice, "I never would have imagined a Judge capable of such an act. Yet, you turn out to be a kind-hearted person."

With a faint expression, Lu Fen gazed at the words on the screen.

"Who's on the other line?" he asked.

"You would never guess," Dr. Ji said. "Boli Joan."