Chapter 105: The Date (Part 1) (5k)

"I am a failure; I hardly notice whether the sun is brilliant or not, because I have no time.

"My parents could not provide me with support, my education is not high, and I am alone in the city seeking a future.

"I applied for many jobs, but none hired me; perhaps no one likes someone who is bad at speaking, dislikes communication, and shows no sufficient ability.

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"For three full days I ate only two loaves of bread; hunger kept me awake at night. Fortunately, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could still stay in that dark basement and did not have to go outside to endure the unusually cold winter wind.

"Finally, I found a job: guarding the night at a hospital, keeping watch over the morgue.

"The hospital nights were colder than I imagined; the corridor wall lamps were not lit, everything was dim, and I could only rely on the faint light seeping out from the rooms to see my feet.

"The smell there was foul; from time to time, the dead were delivered stuffed in body bags, and we helped carry them into the morgue.

"This was not a good job, but at least it let me afford bread; my free time at night could be used for study, after all, few people were willing to come to the morgue unless a body needed to be delivered or taken away for cremation. Of course, I did not yet have enough money to buy books, and at present I saw no hope of saving any.

"I must thank my former colleague; if he had not suddenly resigned, I might not have obtained even such a job.

"I dreamed of being able to switch to day shifts; now I always sleep when the sun comes out and wake when night falls, which has made my body somewhat weak, and my head occasionally throbs.

"One day, the porters delivered a new corpse.

"I heard from others that this was my former colleague who had 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, and very frightening under the extremely dim light.

"He had little hair, most of it white; all his clothes had been removed, not a single scrap of fabric left for him.

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"I saw a strange mark on his chest, bluish-black; I could not describe its exact appearance, as the light at the time was simply too dim.

"I reached out and touched that mark; there was nothing special.

"Looking at this former colleague, I thought: if I continue like this, when I grow 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 such matters would not find it troublesome and simply throw them into some river or wasteland.

"This would sacrifice a morning of my sleep, but it was fine; Sunday was coming soon, and I could make it up.

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

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

"After that day, every time I slept, I always dreamed of a great fog.

"I sensed that something would happen soon; I sensed that sooner or later something I could not even call human would come to find me, but no one was willing to believe me, thinking that in such an environment and such a job, my mind had become somewhat unstable and I needed to see a doctor..."

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

"And then?"

This male guest was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and pale yellow trousers; his hair was pressed very flat, and a simple dark round hat lay by his hand.

He looked quite ordinary, like most people in the tavern: black hair, light blue eyes, neither handsome nor ugly, lacking obvious features.

And the storyteller in his eyes was an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old youth, tall and straight, with long limbs, also with short black hair and light blue eyes, yet with deep, striking features that could catch one's eye.

This young man looked at the empty wine glass before him and sighed:

"And then?

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"And then I quit and returned to the countryside, coming here to boast 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:

"Were all those things you just told a boast?"

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

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

"Outsider, you actually believed Lumian's story; what he tells every day is different. Yesterday he was a unlucky fellow whose fiancée broke the engagement because of poverty, and today he has become a corpse keeper!"

"Yes, talking nonsense about thirty years on the east bank of the Sarenzo River and thirty years on the right bank of the Sarenzo River, only knowing how to babble!" another tavern regular followed up.

They were all farmers from Cordero, this large village, wearing short jackets that were either black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired youth called Lumian propped his hands on the bar, slowly stood up, and said with a smile:

"You know, this is not a story I made up; they are all written by my sister. She loves writing stories the most and is even a columnist for 'Novel Weekly'."

After speaking, he turned his body, gestured with an open hand toward that foreign guest, and smiled brightly:

"It seems she writes very well.

"I'm sorry for making you misunderstand."

That man in the brown tweed jacket, with an ordinary appearance, was not angry; he stood up and replied with a smile:

"A very interesting story.

"What should I call you?"

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

That foreign guest nodded:

"My name is Ryan Kos.

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

That last sentence referred to a man and a woman sitting nearby.

The man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old; his yellow hair was dusted with powder, his not-large eyes were a shade deeper than lake blue, and he wore a white vest, a blue fine-tweed jacket, and black trousers; he had clearly taken care to dress up before going out.

His expression was rather cold; he hardly looked at the farmers and herdsmen around him.

That woman looked younger than the two men; her long, light-gray hair was tied into an elaborate bun, and she wore a white veil as a hat.

Her eyes were the same color as her hair; her gaze toward Lumian carried undisguised amusement, and she seemed to find only the events that had just occurred interesting.

Under the glow of the tavern's gas wall lamps, this woman named Lya revealed a pretty nose and beautifully curved lips, making her absolutely a beauty in a rural place like Cerdou Village.

She wore a white, pleat-free cashmere bodycon dress, paired with a beige small jacket and a pair of Mischir boots; two small silver bells were tied to her veil and boots respectively. When she walked into the tavern just now, they jingled all the way, drawing great attention and leaving many men staring with wide eyes.

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

Lumian nodded to the three outsiders:

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

"Lee?" Lya blurted out.

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

Ryan Kos explained for Lya:

"Your surname makes people fearful; I almost couldn't control my voice just now."

Seeing the farmers and herdsmen around look confused, he explained further:

"Anyone who has dealt with sailors and sea merchants knows there is a saying circulating above the Five Seas:

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

"That person's surname is also Lee."

"Is he very terrible?" Lumian asked.

Ryan shook his head:

"I'm not sure, but since such a legend exists, he certainly can't be ordinary."

He ended this topic and said to Lumian:

"Thank you for your story; it's worth a drink. What do you want?"

"A 'Green Fairy'." Lumian was not at all polite and sat down again.

Ryan Kos frowned slightly and said:

"'Green Fairy'... absinthe?

"I think I need to remind you that absinthe is harmful to the human body; this liquor can cause mental confusion and make you experience hallucinations."

"I didn't expect the fashion trends of Trier to have spread here." Lya, sitting nearby, added with a smile.

Lumian made an "Oh" sound:

"So people in Trier also like drinking 'Green Fairy'...

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

"Alright." Ryan sat back in his seat, looked at the bartender, and said, "One 'Green Fairy', and add one 'Heartburn' for me."

"Heartburn" is a famous fruit brandy.

"Why not give me a 'Green Fairy' too? I was the one who told you the truth just now; I can also tell you the whole situation about this kid!" The first thin middle-aged man who exposed Lumian's daily storytelling shouted in dissatisfaction, "Outsider, I can tell you still have doubts about the truth of that story!"

"Pierre, for a free drink, you're really capable of doing anything!" Lumian shouted back.

Before Ryan could make a decision, Lumian added:

"Why can't I tell it myself? That way, I can drink another 'Green Fairy'!"

"Because they don't know whether to believe the situation you describe." The middle-aged man named Pierre smiled proudly. "The story your sister loves most to tell children is 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'. A person who always lies will inevitably lose credibility."

"Alright." Lumian shrugged, watching the bartender push a glass of pale green liquor toward 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 'Green Fairy'." Ryan nodded.

Pierre immediately wore a full smile:

"Generous outsider, this kid is the most prank-loving person 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 has never left since. Think about it; before that, he was only thirteen. How could he possibly work as a corpse keeper at a hospital? Hmm, the nearest hospital to us is in Daliye at the foot of the mountain; it takes a whole afternoon to walk there."

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

She tilted her head slightly, producing a jingling sound.

Pierre nodded:

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

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

It seemed he felt neither inferior nor ashamed about his past being exposed like this.