Chapter 113: Broken Composure

Chapter 113: Broken Composure

Two o’clock in the afternoon, Gao Yang returned to his empty home. The initial posting of this chapter occurred via N0v3l.B11n.

Warm sunlight streamed into the living room through blue translucent curtains. Everything at home was familiar to him, yet the emptiness made it foreign.

His mother was probably still taking care of his father at the hospital, while his sister was at school.

These days, Gao Yang had become the pillar of their family. When he stayed the night outside or even went unreachable for a couple days, his mother no longer got angry at him despite still being worried. Instead, she simply reminded him to keep up with his study since the college entrance exam was coming.

Gao Yang undressed and took a warm bath in his bathroom, allowing the water to wash away his exhaustion and soothe the wound that hadn’t fully recovered.

Afterward, he dried his hair with a towel and returned to his room barefooted, plopping himself down on the familiar bed.

He turned on his phone and checked all the calls and messages he had missed the past few days.

He took the time to respond to texts from his mother, father, sister, Wang Zikai, and Uncle Qing. Only then did he feel like he had returned to his reality.

Betrayal, ambush, killing, death, and separation...they all faded out of his mind. It was as if he was still the regular eighteen-year-old who knew nothing of the world.

Gao Yang turned off his phone and lay down quietly. His head was filled with a mess of images and sounds. He took a deep breath and entered a meditative state, emptying his head of the intrusive thoughts.

Suddenly, he was reminded of what Baili Yi had told him.

Delusion, greed, wrath, pride, life, and death are all meaningless.

Life is short and nothing but a grand dream.

Sleep crept up to him and wrapped around him like a blanket. He slowly closed his eyes.

...

It was midnight when Gao Yang woke up. His dim bedroom was only illuminated by the silver moonlight coming from outside the window.

He’d slept for quite long. It was rare for him to get more than four hours of sleep ever since his awakening.

Feeling thirsty, he rolled to a seating position and was about to turn on the light when he froze.

In the dark corner of his room was a woman. She sat cross-legged on the floor with her back pressed to the wall. Gao Yang had wondered if Liu Qingying was invading his dream again, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

Taking a better look with narrowed eyes, he quietly called out, “Qing Ling?”

“Yeah,” she answered.

“When did you get here?” Gao Yang was surprised that he hadn’t noticed at all. He had basically been dead to the world.

“A while ago.”

Qing Ling stood up and walked to his bedside, looking down at him.

Gao Yang met her eyes and, feeling uncomfortable, shifted to make room for her, patting on his bed. “Come on. You don’t have to stand.”

Qing Ling sat down by his side and said unceremoniously, “I went to school today. The homeroom teacher said that Wan Sisi was dead.”

Gao Yang’s heart sank.

The white cat looked up at her and meowed softly, like it was acting cute.

Then it jumped off the tombstone and meowed again.

Slowly, it crouched and curled up, its hair spreading like seaweeds in water. Then it melted into a thick white fog.

When night wind scattered the fog, the white cat was gone, replaced by a petite girl who wasn’t wearing any clothes.

Silver hair, pale skin, crimson eyes, and stunning features. She might as well be a twin of the cloaked woman; only her features were younger and on the adorable side, unlike her older, sensuous sister.

The woman took off her cloak to cover up the girl, gently brushing her hair.

“Sister.” The girl beamed, a pearl white canine tooth making itself known. “I saw him again.”

“Oh?” The woman patted her sister’s head. “Do you like him?”

“Yeah.” The girl nodded bashfully. “I can’t wait any longer. I want to eat him.”

“Not yet. You must wait.” Her sister’s tone grew serious.

“But...”

“I said not yet!”

“Okay.” The girl blinked.

Then her sister asked, “Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

Holding the girl’s hand, the woman turned to leave the cemetery.

Then the girl looked up at her sister like she had just remembered something. “Why did they call us ghosts, Sister?”

“I don’t know.” The woman gave it some thought. “Maybe it’s because we keep eating them.”

“Ah.” The girl nodded. After a while, she looked up and said, “If he’s willing to be my friend, I won’t eat him.”

The woman stopped and slowly crouched down to put her hands on the girl’s jade-like face. “Remember, Fresh Snow. Ghosts do not have friends, not ever.”

“I know.” The girl seemed a little sad, but she quickly broke into a smile. “It’s okay. I have Sister White Dew.”

“Yes, as long as we have each other.”

White Dew stood up and took her sister’s hand again.

Soon, they disappeared from the foggy cemetery.

Under the tombstone the white cat had been perching on were a dozen white daisies, still damp with dew. Judging by the recently disturbed gray soil, the dead had been buried no more than twenty-four hours ago.

The gentle night wind fluttered the daisies’ petals. Then the wind stopped, yet the flowers were still rustling in the air.

Thud.

A pale hand shot through the soft soil, grabbing and tearing apart a white daisy.

[End of Act 1]