Chapter 239: Friend, I heard you want to see me?

Wang Cong's today was a day worth remembering.

He would never forget everything that happened today for the rest of his life.

Everything that happened today was too full of twists and turns; every event was filled with reversals and irony, revealing to him the cold and cruel true face of this world.

He originally thought that by selling out his conscience, selling out everything, and dyeing his heart black, he could better embrace this world and gain light in return.

【5) But he never expected that after he split open a black heart to show people, what the world returned to him was actually a deeper, bottomless darkness.

But he never expected that after he split open a black heart for all to see, the world repaid him with an even deeper, bottomless darkness.

His fresh black heart was casually trampled on by someone blacker and then thrown away.

And,

What made Wang Cong even more unable to understand was that when he had completely fallen into the abyss of darkness and was about to rot and breed maggots in despair, a hand reached down from above the abyss and grabbed him.

Like a ray of light tearing through heavy darkness, it shone into his pupils, but this time the light was not as tender as before; instead, it was like a red-hot branding iron, viciously poking into his chest, piercing his black heart until it was drenched in blood.

Pain!

Heart-rending, lung-splitting agony made Wang Cong scream hysterically all the way on the corpse cart; that sound echoed in the cold iron carriage, accompanying the jolting shaking all along.

Finally, when Wang Jian, as if treating a madman, carefully handed a bone ash box to Wang Cong's trembling hands, his body was already in pain to the point of uncontrollable spasms.

However, in this heart-rending pain, Wang Cong strangely experienced a trace of twisted pleasure.

Pain was addictive!

"Feng Mu, I want to see Feng Mu, will Feng Mu come?"

Wang Cong hugged the bone ash box, crying and laughing, looking like a madman, his eyes red as burning coal, yet flashing with a strange light.

He stared straight at Wang Jian, his trembling voice carrying intense fear, mixed within the fear with a trace of morbid desire.

Feng Mu was no longer just a simple light to Wang Cong now, but a fatal attraction like a candle flame in the night to a moth; he feared that the light would reveal his rotting shadow, yet he longed immensely to draw near, to use that warmth to drive away the night's cold, even if that flame would burn him to death.

But it didn't matter, because he equally craved the excruciating pain of being burned!

Wang Jian retreated a step somewhat fearfully and replied: "I don't know, Feng Mu didn't say; why don't you call Feng Mu and ask?"

Wang Cong swallowed his saliva, wanted to call but dared not; he stared straight at Wang Jian, and Wang Jian felt his scalp go numb from being stared at, so he could only make the call for Wang Cong.

The phone was connected, and soon hung up.

Wang Jian shrugged at Wang Cong and said: "Feng Mu said he has something on, so he's not coming; he told you to go home directly."

Wang Cong stopped crying and laughing; his facial expression was like it had suddenly crashed, and he left the incineration plant holding the bone ash box, lost in soul, walking into the darkness without streetlights.

"Is this your friend?" Wang Father, wearing a wrinkled work uniform and slightly hunched, walked out from some corner, his voice hoarse.

Wang Jian turned his head, somewhat surprised by his father's sudden appearance:

"Dad, aren't you off work already? Oh, this person isn't a friend; I don't know him; he's Feng Mu's friend, I just helped out today."

Wang Father nodded slightly and said in a deep voice: "Hmm, that's good; from now on, try to stay away from this person."

Wang Jian was slightly stunned; in his memory, his father rarely asked about who he associated with.

He asked suspiciously: "Does he have some problem?"

Wang Father coughed heavily a few times, his voice even hoarser: "This person's emotional fluctuations are too great; his body might not be able to bear it, and he's about to mutate."

Wang Jian couldn't help but laugh out loud:

"Dad, don't joke. Experts online haven't said that emotional fluctuations cause mutation. Besides, isn't mutation supposed to be sudden loss of control? How can it be detected in advance? Doesn't that mean you're more impressive than those experts?"

Wang Father did not refute his son's questioning, only sighed:

"Your dad doesn't go online much and doesn't understand what those experts say. But your dad has burned E Corpses at the incineration plant for a lifetime; even without using my eyes to look, from far away I can smell the E Corpse smell drifting from that person's bones."

Wang Jian felt his father's words had no scientific basis; besides, he had also burned over a hundred E Corpses at the incineration plant, so why hadn't he smelled the E Corpse smell on Wang Cong just now?

Was it that he hadn't burned enough, or was it that his father's nose was better?

Wang Jian glanced at his coughing father, thought it over, and still obediently listened to the advice, and very kindly sent a reminder text message to his good friend Feng Mu.

……

Wang Cong walked like a walking corpse on the pitch-black night road, still holding two bone ash boxes in his arms, one containing his father, one containing his mother.

Truly, one person is one home; it looked a bit eerie.

He wandered aimlessly on the streets, in a daze, and walked home.

Sitting by the table, looking at the empty house, Wang Cong's heart seemed to have a piece permanently dug out.

"Or maybe I should have been burned together with my parents today!" Wang Cong thought.

He took out his phone from his pocket and casually threw it on the chazhuo; the phone had long run out of battery, but he had no intention of charging it.

Wang Cong just sat there, his gaze empty, expressionless, motionless like an unburned dry corpse.

The hands of the old clock turned slowly, and Wang Cong unknowingly fell asleep.

I don't know how long passed before Wang Cong suddenly woke up; he abruptly turned his head to look beside him; on the sofa next to him, in the seat where his father always sat, someone was sitting quietly.

The lights were not on in the room, so it was very dark; he couldn't see that person's face, only vaguely seeing the human outline in the darkness.

Wang Cong widened his eyes, his breathing rapid; his whole person seemed to suddenly come alive again; subconsciously he asked: "Feng Mu, is it you?"

Rather than saying he was asking whether that person was Feng Mu, it was more that he hoped the person sitting there would be Feng Mu.

The clock's hands jumped slightly, making a faint "drip" sound, but in Wang Cong's perception, it was as if he had waited through an entire eon; that low and faint voice finally responded to his call:

"Awake? Don't you want to sleep a little longer?"

The body in the darkness leaned forward slightly; the blurred face gradually revealed its features; the familiar and calm smile on that face—who else could it be but Feng Mu?

Wang Cong's heart spasmed violently; the pain almost made it hard for him to breathe, but in his eyes burned intense hope; he said with a trembling voice:

"You still came!"

The corners of Feng Mu's mouth curved into a brilliant and sincere smile; he said: "I heard you very much wanted to see me, so, I came, my friend!"

……

End of Chapter