Chapter 28

Chapter 28

1

The old man, having cleaned his lenses, put on his reading glasses, cast a sidelong glance at Wu Wanyi, and unhurriedly began feeding dried fish to the cat.

The fat cat, sprawled on the table, caught the scent and instantly perked up, licking its lips with a small tongue.

In the quiet atmosphere, Wu Wanyi sat on a chair, engrossed in the thin, old book in his hands—a volume no thicker than a finger, quickly devoured.

The records concerning that particular flower were indeed sparse; almost everything was confined to a single page.

Brief classical Chinese sentences vividly depicted the extraordinary sights and experiences of the innkeeper and guests of that era.

It was said the flower boasted an intensely vibrant color, with plump petals and golden stamens brighter and more dazzling than gold. Some claimed it was a miraculous bloom with the power to revive the dead and regenerate flesh, even rarer and more precious than the elixir of life.

Others speculated the stamens might genuinely be made of gold, promising immense wealth and instant elevation to anyone who acquired the flower.

All sorts of exaggerated and bizarre claims coalesced into a tapestry of strange legends.

Even more absurdly, some truly believed these tales, forming groups to hunt for the flower in the desert.

Yet, countless individuals ventured forth, one after another, only for not a single one to return—all vanished without a trace.

The story concluded with a timeless warning to the world:

—No disaster is greater than insatiability.

Though labeled a local chronicle, it read more like a collection of strange tales, or perhaps an allegorical novel meant to impart wisdom and warn humanity. With just a few words, it painted mysterious and extraordinary stories from a century past.

No wonder this legend failed to achieve widespread circulation to the present day.

It bore too strong a resemblance to a fabricated fable, brimming with absurd dark humor.

Wu Wanyi glanced at the cover, realizing it wasn't actually titled a local chronicle, but rather—"Record of Strange Tales from Local Chronicles."

“...”

He pursed his lips, about to close the book, when he noticed a small line at the bottom of the page. It mentioned that someone had once seen a strange figure in the desert—supernaturally beautiful, with long hair, red clothes, flowers growing on their neck, and a golden glint in their eyes. They sat alone on a withered tree in the vast yellow sand, like a soul-snatching spirit.

This small note was very inconspicuous, tucked in the footnote at the bottom of the page, just a single short line.

The beautiful, strange figure was dismissed as a mirage, and the writer of the story even mocked those in the tale for being still ruled by lust even at death's door.

Wu Wanyi stared at these words in silence for a long time, lost in thought.

Then, with an indescribable emotion, he closed the book, stood up, and thanked the old man.

He didn’t look at any other books but left just like that. However, as he stepped out, the old man suddenly said, “You forgot something.”

Wu Wanyi turned back to look at the old man, who was gazing at the table where he had just been sitting.

Following the old man’s line of sight, he saw the desert rose on the table, vibrant under the sunlight, and his expression tightened slightly.

A moment later, he walked to the table, pressed his thin lips together, looked at the old man, and said, “Thank you.”

Holding the bright rose, he walked out through the old wooden door into the gentle breeze.

The tranquil wind brushed past Wu Wanyi’s shoulder, a fleeting, poetic encounter.

Wu Wanyi paused, standing in the dappled sunlight, catching the fresh scent of the air.

There were flowers, grass, and growing grapes.

But unfortunately, this feeling was fleeting. Like autumn waters leaving no trace, after a ripple, the lake in Wu Wanyi’s heart remained an expanse of dark, stagnant water.

He started walking again, but he didn’t discard the flower. Instead, he placed it in the breast pocket of his shirt, carrying this sole splash of color on his person, and walked toward the undulating sand dunes under the setting sun.

—

—

He didn’t know how long he had been walking. From steady steps at the beginning, Wu Wanyi now had to stop every few steps to catch his breath, his thin face flushed with an unhealthy redness.

Beads of sweat fell from Wu Wanyi’s chin. The buzzing in his ears and blurred vision made his steps unsteady.

Just before completely losing strength, he stopped and looked up at the magnificent, expansive sunset ahead.

The fiery clouds spread like splattered paint, the layered sand dunes turning into vast, wavelike swells, making the half-sunken golden sun appear to float on the shimmering sea surface.

Wu Wanyi’s eyes reflected the faint shimmer. He stood still, quietly taking in the breathtaking scene before him.

But within moments, his legs gave way, and he sat down on the ground.

Sweat-soaked black hair clung wetly to his face. He was still running a slight fever, each breath carrying a scalding heat.

His white shirt was thoroughly soaked, sticking tightly to his back and outlining his slender waist.

Wu Wanyi lowered his head, gasping for breath, then took a bottle of water from his backpack.

His originally slender hands had thinned to barely more than skin and bone after his illness, his skin turning from its normal tone to a sickly pallor. Now, under a fine layer of sweat, the thin skin revealed the veins on the back of his hands clearly visible.

Exhausted, it took him a long time to unscrew the cap, not only chafing his fingertips red but also using up the last of his strength.

With trembling hands, Wu Wanyi took out the flower from his chest pocket and gently trickled water over its petals. The wilted petals immediately revived slightly under the glistening droplets.

He raised his hand, holding the flower against the nearly set sun, his deep eyes filled with an indescribable emotion.

"You still have a fever."

"You should drink water immediately."

Wu Wanyi initially didn’t bother to respond, but then, as if thinking of something, he lowered his eyelashes, placed the flower back into his chest pocket, and rasped, "I’m not that foolish."

Every action he took was like tempting death—how was that not foolish!

7008 glared at Wu Wanyi, but seeing him drink the water obediently, its expression softened a little.

"I’ll remind you again in an hour."

Wu Wanyi compressed his lips, wanting to say don't bother, but in the end, he remained silent.

He lowered his gaze, studying his own shadow.

Never mind.

It makes no difference.

—

The temperature dropped like a rock with the approaching night.

Wu Wanyi opened his eyes from a haze of sleep, glanced at the dim surroundings, and realized he had unknowingly been sitting in the same spot for over two hours.

During this time, no venomous snakes or lizards had approached.

If it weren’t for the bite of the cold that felt intensely real, he might have almost forgotten he was in a perilous desert.

Wu Wanyi’s gaze moved slightly as he pushed himself up slowly and stood.

“You wouldn’t wake up no matter what, I almost thought…”

7008 trailed off and heaved a sigh of relief.

But a second later, its expression turned serious.

“You must leave this place now!”

Even without 7008’s warning, Wu Wanyi could feel it coming.

A fierce wind, carrying blinding swirls of sand, was bearing down on him.

It was a sandstorm.

Wu Wanyi stared into the sandstorm that swept up everything in its path, a faint light glinting in his eyes.

He ignored 7008’s words and instead stepped forward, moving toward the storm.

7008’s pupils contracted, and it blurted out in disbelief,

“What are you doing!”

Wu Wanyi didn’t hear. He walked faster and faster, then broke into a run, charging forward like a moth to a flame!

The powerful wind whipped his hair and lifted the hem of his clothes.

Wu Wanyi’s heart had never pounded so hard, almost bursting from his chest, bringing with it a crushing sense of suffocation!

Yet he plowed ahead, running recklessly into the wind.

He knew what he was doing.

He knew how crazy his actions were.

But he didn’t care.

All he knew was that ahead lay the destination he was desperate to reach.

Wu Wanyi’s slender frame seemed as insignificant as an ant before the massive, terrifying sandstorm. In an instant, his feet left the ground, and he was lifted off his feet. Amid the whirling chaos, sand sharper than blades cut into his face, yet he kept his eyes wide open the entire time, allowing the fine grains to make his eyes burn.

Until a pale, slender hand grasped his arm.

The moment he was pulled out, Wu Wanyi, still suspended mid-air, grabbed onto the other’s wrist and rasped, “Got you.”

Behind them, the wind roared, swirling with sand, its overwhelming force filled with raw, terrifying power.

Wu Wanyi stared with bloodshot eyes, seeing the face before him with absolute clarity.

Snow-white skin, narrow eyes, a high nose bridge, and rosy lips. On the long, pale neck bloomed a vibrant, lush flower.

The golden eyes locked on his held not an inhuman coldness, but a depth of ancient wisdom.

Wu Wanyi couldn’t find words to describe such stunning beauty.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it the most incredible mirage.

Long hair flowing, red robes fluttering—amid the apocalyptic sandstorm, the person before him was so beautiful it was spellbinding.

“You…”

Before Wu Wanyi could finish, his eyes closed, his head dropped, and he fell backward.

A hand caught Wu Wanyi’s slumping body and held him close.

Wu Wanyi’s body had long been running on empty; surviving until now was nothing short of a miracle.

As the devastating sandstorm faded into the distance, an extremely soft sigh echoed through the air.

Looking at Wu Wanyi, whose lips were pale and feverish, a pale, delicate hand gently touched his furrowed brow, then slowly moved down to part his lips.

Rosy lips drew near, waist-length hair cascading over his shoulders, shielding Wu Wanyi’s face and the meeting of their lips.

In his unconscious state, Wu Wanyi’s fingers twitched slightly. Instinctively, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed whatever was in his mouth. Within moments, the pain-induced tension in his brow eased, and his pale lips took on a healthy glow.

Those golden eyes gazed calmly at Wu Wanyi’s relaxed expression, then lifted lightly to the thick, heavy night.

2

“Mr. Wu, Mr. Wu, are you alright?”

Wu Wanyi opened his eyes, raised a hand to block the light above, and after a moment, allowed the person helping him to support him as he sat up.

“What are you doing here?”

He turned to the female tour guide beside him, but as he spoke, he touched his throat in surprise.

His voice wasn’t hoarse anymore.

Not only that, his fever had broken, and his body didn’t ache as much.

And, almost like he imagined it, there seemed to be a faint sweetness lingering on his tongue.

Wu Wanyi pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to touch them.

“I was just stepping out and saw you lying on the road. Mr. Wu, how are you? I’ve already notified the hotel; they’re sending a medical team right away.”

The guide looked at him with concern.

Wu Wanyi lifted his head and realized the hotel was just ahead.

He had returned.

Wu Wanyi’s fingers twitched. He turned and saw the desert rose resting quietly beside him.

After last night’s ordeal, the delicate rose showed signs of wilting, but otherwise, it remained entirely intact, not a single petal fallen.

His expression softened slightly as he picked up the flower and whispered, “Thank you.”

Hearing his calm tone, the guide relaxed and smiled. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

The hotel medical team rushed over and let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Wu Wanyi still fairly alert.

“Mr. Wu, we’ll take you to the hospital right away.”

Wu Wanyi gently pushed away the tour guide’s supporting hand and, after steadying himself, said to the hotel manager, “No need. Just get me a suite here at the hotel.”

The suites were pricey, and even in peak season, they seldom booked up completely.

But shouldn’t the most pressing issue be going to the hospital first?

The hotel manager paused for a moment, but seeing Wu Wanyi’s calm expression, he replied, “Alright, Mr. Wu, please get in the car.”

Although they didn’t go to the hospital, for everyone’s peace of mind, the medical staff still gave him a quick check-up.

“You’re slightly malnourished and overworked. Make sure to get plenty of rest.”

After saying this, the doctor continued to study Wu Wanyi with a slight frown.

He wasn’t sure if it was an issue with his examination, but aside from that, his condition seemed...

Wu Wanyi looked up and met the doctor’s gaze. Seeing those eyes, the doctor paused, swallowing the words that had risen to his throat.

His gaze was too calm—so calm that the doctor couldn’t bring himself to voice his doubts.

Moreover, since he was just part of the hotel’s medical team, he had no business prying into a guest’s private affairs.

Even if the other was seriously ill, it wasn’t his place to speak up at this moment.

The doctor sighed to himself and turned to pack up his medical kit.

——

Returning to the suite he had stayed in before, Wu Wanyi stood by the window, staring pensively outside.

He raised a hand to touch his lips—all the dry, cracked wounds were gone, but what struck him more was the sweet aftertaste in his mouth.

Wu Wanyi closed his eyes and slowly licked the corner of his lips. The moist, soft sensation carried a delicate sweetness, as if kissed by someone with nectar on their lips.

The morning breeze from the half-open window ruffled Wu Wanyi’s bangs.

He stood straight by the window, eyes closed, feeling the wind blowing against his face.

It was different from last night.

Today’s wind was cool and gentle, refreshing.

But last night’s wind must’ve been fiercer and wilder.

The air must’ve been drier and colder.

At that time, his weightless body floated perilously in the hurricane that threatened to sweep everything away, yet a hand, like a saving grace, had firmly gripped his arm.

His unmoored, drifting body had instantly found a solid, steady anchor.

He slowly reached out his hand, as if returning to last night, his pale fingertips reaching past the window.

Suddenly, a cold drop hit his fingertip. He fluttered his lashes as he opened his eyes.

It was raining.

The bright sunlight hadn’t disappeared, yet light raindrops drifted down.

In less than a moment, the gentle rain grew heavier, pounding the ground, forming tiny pits.

Wu Wanyi watched the sudden downpour outside. He wondered if it was his imagination, but he seemed to spot a red shadow in the dense rain mist.

He instinctively took a step forward but stubbed his toe on the wall.

In that split-second distraction, the red shadow had already vanished, and the rain abruptly stopped.

It had all been incredibly fleeting.

A pang of loss struck Wu Wanyi’s heart. He raised his hand to touch the window in front of him, his fingers slowly clenched.

——

Rain was rare in the desert, and the hotel was abuzz with excitement for quite a while.

When the sandstorm that had hit the desert center the previous night was brought up, another round of gasps and cries went up.

The succession of weird weather phenomena led many to discuss the reasons behind the climate changes. After much speculation, they even cooked up all kinds of wild stories, with some eagerly anticipating whether an even more amazing sight would appear the next day.

None of these strange conjectures held any interest for Wu Wanyi.

He sat in the dining room, eating slowly and deliberately, chewing each mouthful forever before forcing it down.

Wu Wanyi could eat very little, yet his body still needed to get the nutrients it needs.

But his face showed no hint of struggle. Instead, his solitary figure by the window exuded an unspoken grace and elegance.

Yet, there was also a lingering sense of loneliness.

The tour guide, sitting with the travel group, glanced at Wu Wanyi sitting alone by the window and walked over.

She’d seen him a few times, and each time he was alone. Whether in the bustling lobby or the lively dining room, he always seemed to exist in his own world, with a distinct but detached presence.

Wu Wanyi, eating quietly, looked at the bright red cherries on the table and then raised his eyes to the tour guide’s face.

“They’re tangy and sweet—really good. I’d like to give them to you to try.”

The tour guide smiled, her eyes crinkling into smiles, then set the cherries down and left without further disturbance.

Wu Wanyi watched her retreating figure. Her two dark braids bounced on her shoulders with her light steps. She carried a loudspeaker slung across her body, and her back was damp with sweat that hadn’t yet dried.

The travel group mostly consisted of elderly people, who were more prone to tiredness in a place like the desert. Yet, she showed no impatience, always wearing a bright smile, as if in her eyes, the sky was always blue, the sunlight always radiant, and everything around her joyful and beautiful.

Wu Wanyi recalled the old library built within a greenhouse, the vibrant flowers, the lush grape trellis in the courtyard, the fat cat napping on the table, and the elderly person reading in the shade.

He picked up a cherry and put it in his mouth, biting down firmly. The crimson juice immediately stained his lips, and the sweet-and-sour flavor burst in his mouth.

He still didn’t understand how some people could live so effortlessly.

Wu Wanyi lowered his eyelashes and, unnoticed, rose and left the dining room.

The remaining cherries on the table rolled off and scattered on the floor.

——

In the dead of night, it began to rain again in the desert. Though not as heavy as during the day, it tap-tapped against the window, wetting the glass.

Such frequent and unpredictable weather feels like a mysterious warning, though it's unclear who it's for.

Wu Wanyi stood in the dark room and snapped awake when he heard the rain.

He pushed open the window, and the chilly wind blew in, immediately drenching his face with rain. Yet he continued to push the window wider and climbed out.

7008 jolted, almost yelping.

But soon it shut its mouth tightly, watching Wu Wanyi without blinking.

The rain was light but dense, drenching Wu Wanyi's clothes in moments, clinging wetly to his slender frame.

Without hesitation, Wu Wanyi gazed into the dark rain and mist ahead and jumped.

The 12th floor—just as dangerous as being swept up in yesterday's sandstorm.

7008 held its breath but soon let out a relieved breath.

"Why go through all this?"

A voice like a gentle breeze sounded above. Wu Wanyi grabbed the other's wrist without breaking eye contact, saying, "I wanted to see you."

Sitting on the cold floor, Wu Wanyi finally felt the lingering chill.

But he looked up and smiled.

He gazed at the figure standing by the window and spoke softly, "Hello, my name is Wu Wanyi."

The person by the window tore their gaze from outside and turned to look at him. After a moment, they parted full lips and said, "Mi Yunjin."

Wu Wanyi leaned against the bed, his long legs slightly bent, and asked, "Is that your name, or what all of you are called?"

Mi Yunjin replied softly, "My name."

Because there can only be one Mi Yunjin in the world.

When a new Mi Yunjin sprouts, the old one dies.

So Mi Yunjin is his name, his only name.

Wu Wanyi locked eyes with those golden ones as if gazing into a beautiful illusion.

"Why did you catch me?" he suddenly asked.

"Why did you save me?"

"Why did you keep saving me, again and again?"

He barraged them with questions, his lifeless eyes fixed intently on the other's face.

Giving hope to someone who's given up is more terrifying and despairing than death itself.

From the first time he was saved, Wu Wanyi has been in never-ending pain.

The pain, so intense it felt like being sliced apart by razor wires, wrapped around his body and dug into his flesh.

This endless cycle of pain made life worse than death.

Yet he had no control over living, nor in dying.

The person opposite walked toward him, enduring his empty, cold stare.

"Do you really not want to live?"

That gentle question shattered Wu Wanyi's carefully constructed calm maintained over the past days.

He straightened up, glaring intensely at that beautiful face before him, as if his bottled-up emotions had finally broken. His eyes filled with rage.

"You're asking me?"

"Is it that I don’t want to live?"

"Don’t I want to live well? What did I do wrong to endure this pain over and over, to suffer this torment? Unable to die, unable to live properly—must I be crushed underfoot until I’m completely broken? Yet there are so many, so many trash living just fine in this world, while I can’t even make a choice. Why? Why…"

Wu Wanyi’s voice cracked as he struggled to breathe, his lips bloodless. Under the strain of holding everything in, his fingertips grew numb, and his entire body shook with tension.

He should be crying now, or screaming.

There were countless ways to vent the emotions bottled up inside him, but in the end, he just trembled and closed his eyes. Leaning against the bed, one hand clutching the clothes over his heart, the other pressed against his abdomen, like a dying person who, after a brief struggle, had lost all strength to resist.

The chill that went straight to the bone made Wu Wanyi’s body shake violently.

In the quiet air, Wu Wanyi opened his bloodshot eyes.

He absolutely hated this world!