Chapter 63

Chapter 63

The gray mist filling the sky, accompanied by the faint rumble from deep within the earth's crust, sang the final lament of this ruined world.

Around the dilapidated factory lay endless severed limbs and corpses. Everything in sight was tainted; only the area a little further ahead, and then further still, could barely be considered clean.

There, a few figures lay, their status between life and death unknown.

The only noticeable figure among them was the child still sleeping in his brother's arms.

A trace of white, a rarity in this world, still clung to the hem of his clothing.

Time seemed to stand still for an immeasurable period.

Until everything around began to fade, blur, and even the dark, bloody "lakes" gradually turned black and white.

The scene of mountains of corpses and seas of blood became like the ever-present dust storms in this wasteland world. A gentle breeze blew by, obliterating all traces of their existence.

The ground and sky merged, forming a seamless black curtain.

Within that curtain, only the figures at the very edge remained real.

In such silence, a dim crimson mist replaced the initial gray fog.

Under the red mist, the youth holding the child gradually blurred until, finally, he began to take on the form of a grown man.

The child in his arms also began to grow, his once chubby arms becoming slender.

His round, plump cheeks lost most of their baby fat, his features as delicate as they were in childhood, yet now carrying the elegance and clarity of a young man.

After closing his eyes, Su Ximu felt as though he had dreamed an exceedingly long dream.

It seemed he dreamed of what happened after he and his brothers closed their eyes.

***

He thought that when he woke up, he would still be lying there, still able to see his brothers.

It hadn't occurred to him that he would die, because in his mind, he had already been dead for a long, long time. He died before his fifth birthday.

He lived in the world of the dead with his brothers.

If they were already dead and had become ghosts, how could they die again?

But he never expected that when he opened his eyes again, he would see his grandmother.

Grandma’s expression was worried at first, but when she saw him open his eyes, she happily picked him up, blankets and all. She said he had been sleeping soundly, not waking up until noon, and she'd begun to fear he was ill.

Even his parents were there.

The little one, who hadn’t seen Grandma or his parents in a long time, was very happy. He blinked and, like a little sticky bun, reached out to hug Grandma back.

But soon, he wasn’t so happy anymore.

Because he couldn’t find his brothers anywhere. And, he seemed to have gotten smaller.

He clearly remembered that he had already celebrated his seventh birthday, so why could he wear the overalls that had become too small for him before?

Why was Grandma asking him what he wanted for his fifth birthday?

He had already celebrated his fifth birthday—with his brothers.

Over the past two-plus years, due to the unique nature of the wasteland world, aside from talking with his brothers or occasionally chatting with the grandfather next door, Su Ximu rarely found others he could communicate with normally.

So, the fact that the little one’s mind hadn’t regressed was an accomplishment in itself; there wasn’t much room for growth.

Moreover, he trusted Grandma and his parents deeply, so when he felt confused, he quickly voiced his questions.

He asked Grandma and his parents, wasn’t he dead? Why had he suddenly come back? Where were his brothers? Didn’t they come back with him?

After nearly three years, aside from Grandma who raised him, Su Ximu had grown somewhat unfamiliar with his father and mother.

To him at that time, his brothers were even more important than his parents.

So, as soon as his father scolded him, he burst into loud tears.

A child can’t bear being accused of lying, especially when he knows he’s telling the truth.

He cried so bitterly that Grandma finally held him in her arms to comfort him. Clinging to her shoulder, he sobbed and insisted he wasn’t lying.

He tried hard to describe his brothers to Grandma, along with many things that happened after he died.

The terrifying teddy bear, the talking Big Bad Wolf grandmother, rows of tin houses, the brothers inside, and the terribly painful wounds on his brother’s arms…

He talked and talked, unaware that his parents’ expressions gradually shifted from indifference to seriousness, and finally to a trace of doubt and fear.

In the relatively underdeveloped small town at that time, many people still held a deep-seated fear of ghosts and supernatural tales.

This fear reached its peak one day soon after.

The little one, forced to return to kindergarten, suddenly ran back to his teacher after school. He tugged at her hand and worriedly told her to be careful because she might "die" soon.

If she died, could she help him look for his brothers over there? And pass on some messages to them for him?

Along the way, Su Ximu kindly and earnestly shared his post-death experiences.

For example, it wasn’t very nice over there—bad people would cut your flesh with knives. The food was terrible too. Most people who could talk there weren’t good.

After nearly three years, for a child who had only been sensible for a few years, he had inevitably absorbed the aura of the wasteland world.

And unavoidably, after returning to the real world, his thoughts fell into a chaos he couldn’t sort out.

He just felt that whenever he got close to his teacher that day, he had a strange feeling. It reminded him of the teddy bear, the Big Bad Wolf grandmother, and even the gray mist he last remembered.

To the little one, who had been through it all, this seemed like a precursor to possibly "dying."

His warning came entirely from a child’s innocent, pure-hearted concern.

But to the teacher he warned, and to his parents who chased after him, it sounded utterly chilling.

What kind of child would speak of death and cutting flesh in such a sincere, serious tone?

To those who didn’t know the context, it even seemed like a malicious curse from a wicked child.

The teacher, who had been about to greet the child running toward her, instantly turned pale.

Su Bing, Su Ximu's father, also dragged him away, his face grim.

That night, Su Ximu, who had only intended to give his teacher a friendly warning, almost got a harsh beating from his parents.

His grandmother was the one who shielded him, insisting that her Star Baby was well-behaved and wouldn’t speak that way intentionally. She reasoned that he must have had a nightmare and, being so young, couldn’t yet distinguish between dreams and reality. She offered to apologize to the teacher but pleaded with them not to hit the child, fearing it would scare his soul away.

The boy, now protected, feeling both wronged and scared, watched as his grandmother argued with his father for defending him. His mother also said harsh things to his grandmother.

He couldn’t quite understand—was it bad that he tried to warn his teacher to be careful?

Then, the next day, the teacher disappeared.

Vanished without a trace.

No one could find her.

The teacher’s family was frantic with worry, searching everywhere.

Fortunately, very few people had heard Su Ximu’s conversation with the teacher—aside from the teacher herself, only Su Bing and his wife, Yang Hui, had been present.

But from that day on, how Su Bing and Yang Hui looked at him changed completely.

It was as if they were seeing something terrifying, something they wanted to get away from, yet couldn’t entirely escape due to their blood ties.

Su Ximu didn’t notice the shift in his parents’ attitude toward him, or perhaps he didn't really care.

When he was very young, he had really wanted his parents to spend time with him, but they were always arguing.

Now that he was bigger, he certainly wouldn’t cling to his parents like a little kid anymore.

By now, his innate childhood longing for parental love had gradually been replaced by affection for his brothers and longing for them.

Back when he first moved into the home he shared with his brothers, he would often cry at night missing his grandmother, and his brothers would pick him up.

Now that he was back with his grandmother, he found himself frequently crying again—this time, missing his brothers.

Then, one morning, while his grandmother was out grocery shopping, his parents wanted to take him out.

He said he didn’t want to go and wanted to wait at home for his grandmother.

But his parents told him they were taking him to find his brothers.

He couldn't resist and went out with them.

His father walked with him for a long, long time, and they even took a bus, finally arriving at an unfamiliar place.

It was a village.

At the far end of the village stood a small courtyard where a woman wearing colorful clothes lived.

His parents pinned him in the center of the yard as the woman splashed water on him.

He felt uncomfortable and cold, trying to move away.

But his parents told him that if he avoided it, they wouldn’t take him to find his brothers—they said they had already found them.

Though he no longer craved his parents’ company as much, he never imagined they would lie to him.

So, hearing their words, he felt happy and stood still obediently, allowing the woman to continue splashing water on him, thinking about what he would say to his brothers when he saw them.

The woman splashed water on him for a while, then tapped him with various objects, and finally burned a yellow piece of paper to ashes, mixing the ashes into water in a bowl for him to drink.

After drinking the water, he was taken home by his parents. He fell asleep quickly and didn’t get to look for his brothers.

He got sick from being soaked.

By the time he woke up again, several days had passed. His parents were no longer at home; only his grandmother was there with him.

After waking, he had forgotten many things. His grandmother said it was probably because his illness had been severe, and the fever had messed with his head.

But it didn’t matter—little kids don't remember much anyway, and it was never too late to start remembering anew.

Su Ximu nodded, agreeing with his grandmother.

But from then on, he began having dreams every night.

He felt as though he had lost something very, very important.

***

In the space shrouded by darkness and red mist, invisible ripples stirred once more.

The familiar abandoned factory and the sand dunes in front of him reappeared.

As before, this time, it was Su Juzi who opened his eyes first.

He looked down at the young boy buried completely in his chest and smiled.

He held the boy tighter and murmured, "This time, I caught you..."