Chapter 124

One Hundred Thirty-One, Junior Sister is Playing with Something Very New

"I am a failure, barely noticing whether the sun is shining or not, because I have no time.

"My parents couldn't provide me with support, my education isn't high, and I am alone in the city, searching for a future.

"I found many jobs, but I couldn't get hired. Perhaps no one likes someone who isn't good at speaking, doesn't like to communicate, and hasn't shown enough ability."

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"I went three whole days eating only two loaves of bread. Hunger kept me from sleeping at night. Fortunately, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could continue living in that dark basement, without having to go outside and endure the abnormally cold winter wind."

"Finally, I found a job, working the night shift at a hospital, guarding the morgue."

"The nights at the hospital were colder than I imagined. The wall lamps in the hallway weren't lit, and it was dim everywhere. I could only rely on the little bit of light seeping out from the rooms to help me see where I was stepping."

"The smell there was terrible. From time to time, the deceased would be sent over stuffed in body bags, and we would cooperate to help move them into the morgue."

"This isn't a very good job, but at least it allows me to afford bread, and the free time at night can be used for studying. After all, no one wants to come to the morgue unless there are bodies that need to be delivered or transported for cremation. Of course, I don't have enough money to buy books yet, and I don't see any hope of saving money at the moment."

"I have to thank my former colleague. If it weren't for his sudden resignation, I might not have even been able to get a job like this."

"I dream of being able to rotate to the day shift. Now, I always sleep when the sun comes out and wake up after night falls, which has made my body a bit weak, and my head occasionally throbs with pain."

"One day, the movers brought in a new body."

"I heard from others that this was that former colleague of mine who suddenly resigned."

"I was a bit curious about him. After everyone left, I pulled out the cabinet and quietly opened the body bag."

"He was an old man, his face blue and white, covered in wrinkles, looking very frightening in the very dim light."

"He didn't have much hair, most of it was white, and all his clothes had been stripped off, not even leaving him a scrap of fabric."

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"I saw a strange mark on his chest, blue-black in color. I can't describe exactly what it looked like; the light at the time was just too dim."

"I reached out and touched that mark, but there was nothing special about it."

"Looking at this former colleague, I wondered, if I keep going like this, when I get old, will I end up like him..."

"I told him that tomorrow I would accompany him to the crematorium and personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, so that those in charge of these matters wouldn't find it troublesome and just throw them in some river or wasteland."

"This will sacrifice a morning of my sleep, but fortunately, it's Sunday soon, so I can make it up."

"After saying that, I fixed the body bag and pushed it back into the cabinet."

"The light in the room seemed even dimmer..."

"After that day, every time I sleep, I always dream of a thick fog."

"I have a premonition that something will happen soon, a premonition that sooner or later, something that I don't know if it can be called human will come looking for me. But no one is willing to believe me, thinking that in such an environment and such a job, my mind has become abnormal and I need to see a doctor..."

A male guest sitting at the bar looked toward the storyteller who had suddenly stopped:

"And then?"

This male guest was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and light yellow trousers, his hair pressed very flat, with a simple dark bowler hat by his side.

He looked ordinary, like most people in the tavern—black hair, light blue eyes, neither good-looking nor ugly, lacking any obvious features.

And the storyteller in his eyes was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, with a tall, straight figure and long limbs, also with short black hair and light blue eyes, but with deep facial features that could make one's eyes light up.

This young man looked at the empty wine glass in front of him and sighed:

"And then?

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"Then I quit my job and returned to the countryside, coming here to brag to you."

As he spoke, a smile appeared on his face, a smile with a hint of mischief.

That male guest was stunned for a moment:

"What you just told was bragging?"

"Haha." A burst of laughter erupted around the bar.

As the laughter subsided slightly, a thin, middle-aged man looked at the slightly embarrassed guest and said:

"Outsider, you actually believed Lumian's story? He tells a different one every day. Yesterday, he was still a loser whose engagement was broken by his fiancée because of poverty, and today he's become a morgue guard!"

"Right, talking about thirty years on the east side of the Selenzo River, thirty years on the right side of the Selenzo River, he only knows how to babble nonsense!" another tavern regular followed up.

They were all farmers from this large village of Cordu, wearing short jackets of black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired young man called Lumian propped himself up on the bar with both hands, stood up slowly, and said with a smile:

"You know, this isn't a story I made up; it was all written by my sister. She loves writing stories the most and is even a columnist for some 'Novel Weekly'."

After speaking, he turned his body to the side, spread his hands toward the outsider, and smiled brilliantly:

"It seems she writes really well.

"Sorry, I let you misunderstand."

That man wearing a brown tweed jacket with an ordinary appearance didn't get angry; he stood up as well and responded with a smile:

"A very interesting story.

"How should I address you?"

"Isn't it common sense to introduce yourself before asking others?" Lumian laughed.

That guest from out of town nodded:

"My name is Ryan Cos.

"These two are my companions, Valentine and Leah."

The latter sentence referred to the man and woman sitting right next to him.

The man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, his yellow hair dusted with powder, his not-so-large eyes a color slightly deeper than lake blue, wearing a white vest, a blue fine-wool coat, and black trousers; he had clearly been meticulously dressed before going out.

He had a rather indifferent expression and didn't really look at the surrounding farmers and herdsmen.

That woman looked younger than the two men, her light gray long hair tied into a complex bun, wrapped in a white veil serving as a hat.

Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and her gaze toward Lumian carried undisguised amusement; she seemed to find what had just happened merely interesting.

Under the illumination of the tavern's gas wall lamp, this woman named Leah revealed a pretty nose and beautifully curved lips; in a countryside like Cordu village, she could definitely be called a beauty.

She wore a white, unpleated cashmere tight-fitting dress, paired with a beige little jacket and a pair of Masier long boots. There were also two small silver bells tied to her veil and boots respectively. When she walked into the tavern just now, she jingled all the way, which was very eye-catching, making many men stare straight at her.

In their eyes, this must be the fashionable attire only found in big cities like the provincial capital of Bigor or the capital, Trier.

Lumian nodded to the three outsiders:

"My name is Lumian Lee; you can call me Lumian directly."

"Lee?" Leah blurted out.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem with my surname?" Lumian asked curiously.

Ryan Cos helped Leah explain:

"This surname of yours is terrifying. I almost couldn't control my voice just now."

Seeing the surrounding farmers and herdsmen looking puzzled, he further explained:

"Those who have had contact with sailors and maritime merchants all know that there is such a saying circulating on the Five Seas:

"Better to encounter those pirate generals or even kings than to run into a person named Frank Lee.

"That person's surname is also Lee."

"Is he very scary?" Lumian asked.

Ryan shook his head:

"I'm not sure, but since there is such a legend, it certainly won't be bad."

He ended this topic and said to Lumian:

"Thank you for your story. It's worth a drink. What would you like?"

"A glass of 'Green Fairy'." Lumian wasn't polite at all and sat back down.

Ryan Cos frowned slightly and said:

"'Green Fairy'... Absinthe?

"I think I need to remind you that absinthe is harmful to the human body. This kind of alcohol can lead to mental confusion and cause you to have hallucinations."

"I didn't expect Trier's fashion trends to have already spread here." Leah added with a smile from the side.

Lumian said "Oh":

"So people in Trier also like to drink 'Green Fairy'...

"For us, life is already hard enough; there's no need to care about a little more harm. This kind of alcohol can allow our spirits to get greater relaxation."

"Alright." Ryan sat back in his seat and looked at the bartender, "A glass of 'Green Fairy', and add a glass of 'Spicy Heart' for me."

"Spicy Heart" is a famous fruit shochu.

"Why don't you give me a glass of 'Green Fairy' too? I was the one who told you the truth just now, and I can even tell you the situation of this kid from beginning to end!" the thin middle-aged man who first exposed Lumian for telling stories every day shouted with dissatisfaction, "Outsider, I can tell that you still have doubts about whether that story is true or false!"

"Pierre, for the sake of a free drink, you really can do anything!" Lumian responded loudly.

Without waiting for Ryan to make a decision, Lumian added:

"Why can't it be me telling it myself? That way I can drink another glass of 'Green Fairy'?"

"Because they don't know whether to believe the situation you're talking about." The middle-aged man named Pierre laughed triumphantly, "The story your sister loves to tell children the most is 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'. People who always lie will inevitably lose their credibility."

"Alright." Lumian shrugged his shoulders and watched the bartender push a glass of pale green liquid in front of him.

Ryan looked at him and asked for confirmation:

"Is that okay?"

"No problem, as long as your wallet is enough to pay for these drinks." Lumian didn't care at all.

"Then another glass of 'Green Fairy'." Ryan nodded.

Pierre was suddenly all smiles:

"Generous outsider, this kid is the biggest prankster in the village. You must stay away from him.

"Five years ago, he was brought back to the village by his sister Aurore and has never left since. Think about it, before that, he was only thirteen years old; how could he possibly go to a hospital to be a morgue guard? Hmm, the nearest hospital to us is in Daliege at the foot of the mountain, which takes a whole afternoon to walk to."

"Brought back to the village?" Leah asked keenly.

She tilted her head slightly, producing a jingling sound.

Pierre nodded:

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"Then, he followed Aurore's surname 'Lee', and even the name 'Lumian' was chosen by Aurore."

"I've forgotten what I was originally called." Lumian drank a sip of absinthe and said with a grin.

It seemed that he wasn't the least bit inferior or ashamed about his past being exposed like this.