Chapter 98

One Hundred and Five, Sincere to the Core (Major Revision)

“I’m a failure; I barely notice whether the sunlight is brilliant or not, because I have no time.”

“My parents couldn’t support me, my education was low, and I wandered alone through the city searching for a future.”

“I applied for many jobs but was never hired—perhaps no one liked someone who couldn’t speak well, avoided communication, and showed no sufficient ability.”

To read the latest chapter, download the app for free, ad-free access. The website no longer updates new chapters; all latest content is on StarText Reader app.

“I went three full days eating only two loaves of bread; hunger kept me awake at night. Luckily, I’d paid a month’s rent in advance, so I could still stay in that dark basement, avoiding the bitterly cold winter winds outside.”

“Finally, I got a job: night watch at the hospital, guarding the morgue.”

“The hospital nights were colder than I imagined; the corridor wall lamps were unlit, everything dim, and I could barely see my feet by the faint glow seeping from the rooms.”

“The smell was foul; corpses in body bags kept arriving, and we helped carry them into the morgue.”

“It wasn’t a good job, but at least it let me buy bread, and my free nights gave me time to study—after all, few wanted to come to the morgue unless a corpse needed moving or burning. Still, I couldn’t afford books, and I saw no hope of saving money.”

“I owe thanks to my predecessor; if he hadn’t quit suddenly, I might never have gotten even this job.”

“I dreamt of switching to day shifts—I always slept when the sun rose and woke when night fell, leaving me weak and occasionally giving me sharp headaches.”

“One day, a laborer brought in a new corpse.”

“Others said it was my former colleague who had quit abruptly.”

“I was curious about him. After everyone left, I pulled out the drawer and quietly unzipped the body bag.”

“He was an old man, his face bluish-white, covered in wrinkles, terrifying under the dim light.”

“He had little hair, most of it white; all his clothes had been stripped off, not even a scrap left.”

Website updates slowly; download to read the latest chapters.

“I saw a strange mark on his chest—bluish-black, its shape impossible to describe; the lighting was far too dim.”

“I touched the mark—it felt ordinary.”

“Looking at my former colleague, I wondered: if I kept going like this, when I grew old, would I end up like him…?”

“I told him: ‘Tomorrow I’ll accompany you to the crematorium. I’ll take your ashes to the nearest free cemetery myself, so those in charge won’t get lazy and dump you by some river or wasteland.’”

“It’ll cost me one morning’s sleep, but it’s almost Sunday—I can make it up.”

“After saying that, I zipped the body bag back up and slid it into the drawer.”

“The room’s light seemed to grow even darker…”

“Since that day, every time I slept, I dreamed of thick fog.”

“I sensed something was about to happen—I felt something, perhaps not even human, would come for me soon. But no one believed me; they thought the environment and my job had broken my mind, that I needed a doctor…”

A male customer seated at the bar looked at the storyteller who had suddenly fallen silent:

“And then?”

The man was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed coat and light-yellow trousers, his hair flattened, a simple dark round hat beside him.

He looked ordinary, like most in the tavern—black hair, pale blue eyes, neither ugly nor handsome, lacking any striking features.

To him, the storyteller was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, tall and slender-limbed, also with black short hair and pale blue eyes, but with sharp, striking features that caught the eye.

The young man stared at his empty glass and sighed:

“And then?”

Download to read the latest chapters.

“Then I quit and returned to the countryside—to come here and tell you tall tales.”

As he spoke, a mischievous smile spread across his face.

The male customer blinked:

“You were just making that up?”

Laughter erupted around the bar.

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

“Stranger, you actually believed Lumi’an’s story? He tells a different one every day—yesterday he was a poor fool whose fiancée broke off their engagement; today he’s a corpse watcher!”

“Yeah, he claims he spent thirty years east of the Sailunzuohe, thirty years west of it—only spouting nonsense!” added another regular.

They were all farmers from the large village of Kerdou, dressed in short jackets of black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired young man called Lumi’an pushed himself up from the bar with both hands, smiling:

“You know, these aren’t my stories—they’re written by my sister. She loves writing, and she’s even a columnist for ‘The Novel Weekly.’”

He turned to the foreign guest, palms up, beaming:

“Looks like she writes well.”

“Sorry for misleading you.”

The man in the brown tweed coat, ordinary in appearance, didn’t get angry—he stood and smiled back:

“A fascinating story.”

“What’s your name?”

“Isn’t it common sense to introduce yourself before asking someone else’s?” Lumi’an chuckled.

The foreign guest nodded:

“I’m Ryan Koss.”

“These two are my companions, Valente and Liya.”

He meant the man and woman sitting nearby.

The man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, his yellow hair dusted with powder, his small eyes a shade darker than lake-blue, dressed in a white vest, blue fine wool coat, and black trousers—clearly dressed with care for the occasion.

He looked cold, barely glancing at the farmers and herders around him.

The woman appeared younger than the two men, her pale gray hair coiled into a complex bun, covered by a white veil as a hat.

Her eyes matched her hair, fixed on Lumi’an with unhidden amusement, clearly finding the whole scene entertaining.

Under the tavern’s gas wall lamps, the woman named Liya revealed a pert nose and elegantly curved lips—undoubtedly a beauty by Kerdou village standards.

She wore a white, pleatless cashmere body-hugging dress, a cream-colored small coat, and Ma Xier boots; silver bells were tied to both her veil and boots, jingling as she entered the tavern, drawing every man’s gaze.

In their eyes, this was fashion only seen in big cities like Bigor or the capital, Teriel.

Lumi’an nodded to the three outsiders:

“I’m Lumi’an Li. You can just call me Lumi’an.”

“Li?” Liya blurted out.

“What’s wrong with my surname?” Lumi’an asked curiously.

Ryan Koss explained for her:

“That surname terrifies me—I almost lost control of my voice just now.”

Seeing the farmers and herders confused, he added:

“Anyone who’s dealt with sailors or merchants knows this saying across the Five Seas:

“Better to face pirate admirals or kings than to meet a man named Frank Li.”

“His surname is also Li.”

“Is he that terrifying?” Lumi’an asked.

Ryan shook his head:

“I don’t know, but if such a legend exists, he must be formidable.”

He dropped the subject and turned to Lumi’an:

“Thank you for the story—it deserves a drink. What would you like?”

“A ‘Green Fairy,’” Lumi’an said without hesitation, sitting back down.

Ryan frowned slightly:

“‘Green Fairy’… absinthe?”

“I should warn you—absinthe is harmful. It can cause madness and hallucinations.”

“I didn’t realize Teriel’s trends had reached here,” Liya added with a smile.

Lumi’an “oh”ed:

“So Teriel folks like ‘Green Fairy’ too…”

“For us, life is hard enough—we don’t need to care about a little extra harm. This drink lets our minds truly relax.”

“Alright,” Ryan sat back, signaling the bartender. “One ‘Green Fairy,’ and one ‘Spicy Heart’ for me.”

“Spicy Heart” was a famous fruit brandy.

“Why not give me a ‘Green Fairy’ too?” shouted the thin middle-aged man who’d first exposed Lumi’an’s lies. “I told you the truth—I can tell you everything about this kid!”

“Pierre, you’d do anything for a free drink!” Lumi’an called back.

Before Ryan could respond, Lumi’an added:

“Why can’t I tell it myself? Then I’d get another ‘Green Fairy.’”

“Because they won’t believe you,” Pierre grinned smugly. “Your sister’s favorite story for kids is ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf.’ A liar loses all credibility.”

“Fine,” Lumi’an shrugged, watching the bartender slide a pale green drink before him.

Ryan looked at him, asking:

“Is that okay?”

“Sure—as long as your wallet can cover the drinks,” Lumi’an said carelessly.

“Then another ‘Green Fairy,’” Ryan nodded.

Pierre’s face lit up with a grin.

"Generous outsider, this boy is the village's most notorious prankster—you must keep your distance from him."

"Five years ago, his sister Auror brought him back to the village, and he never left again. Think about it—he was only thirteen before that. How could he possibly have worked as a corpse watcher in a hospital? The nearest hospital to us is Daliere at the foot of the mountain; it takes a full afternoon to walk there."

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

She tilted her head slightly, producing a tinkling sound.

Pierre nodded:

To read the latest chapter, please download the app—free, no ads, read the latest chapters. The latest chapter content is already available; the website no longer updates new chapters.

"Then he took his sister's surname 'Li,' and even his name 'Lumian' was given by Auror."

"I've forgotten what he was originally called," Lumian said with a grin, sipping absinthe.

He showed no shame or embarrassment at all about his past being exposed like this.