Chapter 98: One Hundred and Five, Full of Sincerity (Heavily Revised)

One Hundred and Five, Full of Sincerity (Heavily Revised)

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

"My parents couldn't provide me with support, my education wasn't high, and I was 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 ate only two loaves of bread in three whole days. Hunger kept me from sleeping at night. Fortunately, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could continue to live 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 hospital at night was even colder than I imagined. The wall lamps in the corridor 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 very unpleasant. From time to time, dead bodies would be sent over stuffed in body bags, and we would cooperate to help move them into the morgue.

"It wasn't a very good job, but at least it allowed me to afford bread. The free time at night could also 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 away for cremation. Of course, I didn't have enough money to buy books yet, and I couldn't see any hope of saving money at the moment.

"I have to thank my former colleague. If he hadn't suddenly resigned, I might not have even been able to get a job like this.

"I dreamed 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 delivered a new corpse.

"I heard from others that this was my former colleague who had suddenly resigned.

"I was a little 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 under the very dim light.

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

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"I saw a strange mark on his chest, blue-black in color. I couldn't describe its exact shape; the light at the time was truly too dim.

"I reached out and touched that mark; 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 be the same as 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 responsible for these matters wouldn't find it troublesome and just throw them away in some random river or wasteland.

"This would sacrifice one morning of my sleep, but fortunately, it would be Sunday soon, so I could make up for it.

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

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

"Since 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 spirit has become abnormal and I need to see a doctor..."

A male guest sitting at the bar looked at 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 round top hat beside him.

He looked ordinary, just like most people in the tavern, black hair, light blue eyes, not 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 and straight figure, slender limbs, also with short black hair and light blue eyes, but with deep-set 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 resigned and returned to the countryside to come here and 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:

"The things you just told were 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? What he tells every day is different. Yesterday he was a loser whose engagement was broken by his fiancée because of poverty, and today he became 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 Kordu, this large village, wearing short jackets that were black, gray, or brown.

The young man with black hair, 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 finishing, he turned his body to the side, spread his hands toward the outsider, and smiled brightly:

"It seems she writes really well.

"I'm sorry for misleading you."

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

"A very interesting story.

"What should I call 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 eyes, which weren't very large, having a color slightly deeper than lake blue. He wore a white vest, a blue fine-wool coat, and black trousers, clearly having dressed up carefully before going out.

He had a rather cold expression and didn't look much 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 pert nose and beautifully curved lips; in a countryside like Kordu village, she could definitely be called a beauty.

She wore a white, unpleated cashmere tight-fitting dress, paired with a beige small 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 went 'ding-a-ling' all the way, 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 Bigo 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 explained further:

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

"I would rather encounter those pirate generals or even kings than 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 definitely 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 wormwood 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 the fashion trend of Trier to have spread here already." Leah, beside him, added with a smile.

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 obtain 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 that Lumian told stories every day shouted with dissatisfaction, "Outsider, I can tell that you still have doubts about the truth of that story!"

"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 I tell 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 called 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 his opinion:

"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 full of smiles:

"Generous stranger, this brat is the biggest prankster in the village; you must stay far away from him."

"Five years ago, he was brought back to the village by his sister, Aurore, and he hasn't left since. Think about it—before that, he was only thirteen. How could he possibly have gone to a hospital to work as a mortuary attendant? Hmm, the hospital nearest to us is in Daliege, down the mountain; it takes a whole afternoon to walk there."

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

She tilted her head slightly, producing a tinkling sound.

Pierre nodded:

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"After that, he took Aurore's surname, 'Lee,' and even the name 'Lumian' was chosen by Aurore."

"I've even forgotten what I was called originally," Lumian said with a grin, taking a sip of absinthe.

It seemed he felt no inferiority or shame at having his past exposed like this.