The sll of disinfectant was spreading.
Drip bags ticked away, and the figures moving through the corridor appeared like ghosts, their outlines blurring before my eyes.
In the spacious ward, there were voices deliberately hushed.
As the door opened, Su Ming’an raised his head to see a stack of illegible papers in his blurred vision.
Even though the words were not clear and everything was hazy, he just knew—this was a critical condition notice.
Beside his ear, community staff accompanying him murmured softly:
"...how did it co to this, leaving behind a child, what are we to do..."
Su Ming’an reached out to take the paper, but a community staffer’s hand intercepted his, and the pen’s tip "swooshed" as it signed the na.
Su Ming’an lowered his hand, and in the mont his gaze fell upon his own palm, in the mont he saw that small hand, he suddenly realized—this was a child’s hand.
He acknowledged that this was probably another dream—due to the practice in his daily life, he often awakened from dreams, rarely unable to recognize them as such. As he silently stared at the white hospital wall before him, the desire to awaken wavered slightly.
"Can I see my father?" he asked, turning to the community staff, using "father" instead of the usual "Daddy" that children say.
"Kid, your dad’s in pretty good shape right now, he just needs to stay in the hospital a bit longer." The indistinct community staffer patted his shoulder gently, his tone very soft, as if consoling a child: "He needs to rest now. When he wakes up and has had enough rest in the hospital, then you can go see him, okay?"
"You’re lying to ," said Su Ming’an. "You clearly know that it’s very unlikely that he will wake up again."
A look of astonishnt appeared on the community staff’s face.
But in Su Ming’an’s eyes, it was a warping whirl of black holes, the unusual expression sending ripples out—circle by circle, gradually shattering the tranquility before him.
"I clearly know," he said. "This is the last ti."
The scene before him was fracturing, collapsing.
He watched the scene before him twist and distort as if watching a silent black and white film, like a television screen slowly filling with static until it was on the verge of fading into nothingness.
He moved forward, steadying the collapsing image and took a step. He walked through the increasingly transparent community staffer, through the snow-white walls, passing the silent crowd like ghosts, like a fish slipping into a human sea. He moved past the indistinct people in white lab coats, as if racing against ti. When he passed through the door of the ICU, he felt relieved and then saw a white bed.
Here, everything was white. He saw the white blanket spread over the man like snow, each white bandage glaringly bright. The lines of the electrocardiogram appeared to waver in his vision, and all the scenery seed to darken at the edges, becoming unclear.
He saw the man’s face, a familiar face, with the man’s eyelids closed and his chest weakly rising and falling.
The man seed to be wrapped entirely in white.
Su Ming’an placed his hand on the man’s, standing outside the bed as if standing in the mortal world. He gazed at the angel cocooned in pure white, watching the man’s life slip away bit by bit.
In his ear, the sound of dripping from the IV sounded faint, but in such a quiet environnt, it seed amplified many tis over. Su Ming’an closed his eyes, feeling the warmth in the palm of his hand grow cooler and cooler.
Finally, as if sensing sothing, he opened his eyes.
t with his gaze, were a pair of eyes very similar to his own.
"Ming’an," the man looked at him, the wrinkles already climbing to the corners of his eyes trembling: "...you ca."
"Yeah."
"I’ve been lying in the ICU for a long ti, and I’ve thought a lot..." the man spoke slowly: "When I threw myself towards the street corner that day, I didn’t think too much; I even felt honored. But after becoming like I am now, paralyzed on one side, slipping in and out of consciousness, I thought of you."
"Ming’an, Dad doesn’t regret saving soone." He took Su Ming’an’s hand and slowly curled it into his palm: "But I’m sorry, Dad couldn’t be there to watch you grow up."
"It’s okay." Su Ming’an did not pull his hand away, but moved closer to the man, his tone softer than ever, "I’ve grown up, in a month... no, in a little over two months ago, I just stepped through the gates of university."
"I’m happy." The man’s voice was very weak, but remained steady. He seed to want to lift his other hand to touch Su Ming’an’s face, but ultimately did not have the strength.
With an air of reverence, Su Ming’an reached out and held the man’s hand in both of his.
He brought the bandaged hand to his cheek, letting him touch it.
"I’m happy..." The man’s hand moved slightly, his fingers barely touching Su Ming’an’s face before retracting, not pressing the whole palm, as if afraid to disturb sothing.
Su Ming’an remained still, feeling the dream start to crumble around him.
Lucid dreams are constructed by oneself, dreams made for oneself. Once there is a big fluctuation in emotion, the dream often cannot be sustained.
He just wanted to stay here a bit longer, so he had forcibly stabilized the dream.
"...Ming’an, you’ve grown into a very good person," the man said with a smile.
"I haven’t beco like mother," Su Ming’an said, "I’m glad. Although I’ve lived a very ordinary life, I’m more suited to this world than she was."
"Your mom, she was just too anxious sotis. In fact, I’ve advised her many tis, but she wouldn’t listen, she was just too in love with her art—I don’t ask you to forgive her, Ming’an, but I hope her actions haven’t left you with too many shadows," the man slowly lowered his hand, his tone light as a feather:
"For us, we don’t need you to be extraordinary, as long as our child lives a healthy and happy life, peaceful and safe, we are satisfied—look, Ming’an, just like your na, we initially hoped that you would walk a clear and smooth path, to live peacefully and safely. Middle school exams, high school entrance exams, getting into a university you’re satisfied with, studying a major you’re satisfied with, finding a job you’re satisfied with, marrying soone... you love. We don’t ask how your grades are, how much money you make in this life, as long as you’re happy, that’s good."
"I’m quite well," Su Ming’an said.
He seed to hear the drip of the IV getting quicker, like the second hand tick-tocking away.
He covered the man’s hand again, feeling it beco increasingly cold.
"Ming’an, how’s everything going for you now, are you satisfied with university life? Are you getting along well with your roommates? Have you joined any clubs... I rember you’ve always especially enjoyed detective novels and those big tos, now you must have a lot of ti to read them..." the man rambled on: "Right, if you have a girl you like, you must pursue her boldly, university is the happiest ti for you, you must have a romance that you won’t regret... I rember that girl from next door, she seed to like you quite a bit too..."
"Very well," Su Ming’an looked at him, "Everything is very well with ."
"...Good."
The man looked at him and smiled:
"Ming’an, the world is beautiful, don’t change your mind because of your mom, you have to believe... everything will get better."
The sunlight outside the window slowly spilled in, casting a golden strip of light.
In a mont, the man slightly tilted his head, the daylight entering his eyes as if blending with the intense emotions within them.
Su Ming’an felt as though he saw, in his gradually blurring vision, a faint smile on the man’s face.
Despite the closeness, it seed as if separated by mountains and ridges.
He watched the man, bathed in light, grow dimr bit by bit.
Between heaven and the mortal world, a clear line of separation was apparent.
Just before the dream finally collapsed, he heard the man’s whisper, almost inaudible:
"...Ming’an, take care of yourself."
Su Ming’an watched the white figure on the hospital bed slowly fade from him.
He stood still, touching the back of his own hand.
"Rest assured, Father," he said distantly, speaking to the slowly dimming light, his tone calm, as if he was stating sothing that could not be more certain.
...He and this world.
Would be just fine.
...
Su Ming’an opened his eyes.
He felt as though he was lying face down on a desk, his right palm burning hot.
It seed soone was holding his hand, their five fingers tightly clasping his palm, warm energy bit by bit transferring into him.
He slowly raised his head, his vision gradually clearing, and saw Lolita with her eyes closed, resting and recuperating.
She seed to have been sitting there for a long ti, her hair touched by so light spots that stread in from the window. With her eyes closed, her curled eyelashes looked peaceful.
When she noticed the movent here, those beautiful burgundy pupils slowly opened, the warm light falling into her eyes, making them sparkle.
"You’re awake," Hui Shuhang said, yet he did not withdraw his hand, "My apologies, as your condition seed rather poor, I took the liberty of aiding your recovery without permission. I am unable to rise and bow to you at the mont; I am very sorry."
"...It’s fine," Su Ming’an glanced out the window.
Outside the window was still that large square, bustling with many people dressed in white robes. Today, the square had an even more celebratory atmosphere than yesterday, with bright yellow flags fluttering on the high structures, appearing like stars under the daylight.
He felt the warm energy steadily flowing into him, the dizzying aftereffects fading bit by bit. Dreaming was exhausting, his sleep quality was not as good as before, but now he actually felt rather spirited.
"That’s enough," he let go of the hand and looked at the system ti; it was the afternoon.
He had slept from early morning till the afternoon.
"You rarely sleep this long," Hui Shuhang withdrew his hand. "I rember, you often ntioned fearing you might suddenly not wake up, always being reluctant to sleep."
"I was just tired," Su Ming’an replied to her casually.
Suddenly, he heard a crisp sound of ceramic cup collision.
Turning his head, the little Lolita was steeping tea elegantly, the deep red liquid gleaming in the porcelain cup, carrying a refreshingly cool aroma.
"This is Michael’s Red Tea from Xizhou, still at your preferred temperature," Hui Shuhang said softly, with a gentle tone, while bowing slightly: "Please, have so."
Su Ming’an touched the teacup, it was a bit cool.
But he didn’t show it and instead drank it as if it were quite ordinary.
The tea should have been pretty good, at least worthy of his status, whatever he was given should be of the highest quality. But he couldn’t taste it, it felt no different from the inferior tea he had drunk on Zhai Xing, and it was even sowhat cool.
He didn’t speak but just placed the teacup back in its original spot.
"During your sleep, Your Majesty issued a directive, ordering to pass the Legion Command Token to you," Hui Shuhang took out a vermillion badge. "Since you cannot use magic to access your spatial storage ring, I helped you string it into a bracelet to avoid inconvenience in carrying it."
Su Ming’an looked at the vermillion badge encircled by a shiny silver ring handed to him, and heard the prompt from the system:
[Received·Key Prop·Legion Command Token]
[(Legion Command Token): Possessing this token allows you to autonomously mobilize the First Legion of the Regular Army. All Contribution Value gained by the legion belongs to the holder.]
[Survival Probability: Increased by 8.24%]
[Regular Army Route·Future Route·Perfect Pass Progress: 30%]
...
...Very well.
Su Ming’an wore it on his wrist; the badge glittered, its surface covered with a special film. Looking at the survival probability prompt from the system, he felt this move was likely correct.
"Furthermore, during your sleep, Miss Rinna has been looking for you," Hui Shuhang’s eyes and brows downcast. "Although you have ntioned not to let those nobles disturb you, Miss Rinna kept claiming it was very important, and has been standing outside for an entire day, I thought it was necessary to inform you of this."
"Rinna?"
"She is the commander of the Second Legion, daughter of Duke Berlin, titled Lord," Hui Shuhang said softly. "You might not rember her, if you don’t wish to see her, I’ll take her away."
Su Ming’an had a guess in his mind.
...She should be a player.
Those bearing various titles and seeking an audience with him, without exception, were players cloaked in character skins. They might treat him as a real NPC, or see him as a fellow player wearing a ’skin’, and what they said was unlikely to be anything substantial.
He wasn’t particularly interested in eting this Rinna, but as there was no urgent affair at the mont, recalling that Hui Shuhang ntioned this person stood outside for a day, perhaps there was so ssage she felt compelled to deliver.
"Bring her here," Su Ming’an said.
"Yes." Hui Shuhang waved her hand and imdiately, a bird akin to a nightingale flew in from outside.
Hui Shuhang led Su Ming’an to a room resembling a reception area, while communicating with the bird, leaving behind two cups of red tea.
"Miss Rinna will arrive very soon," she said softly, "and I am also permitted to stay by your side."
"Alright," Su Ming’an nodded.
The visitor should be a player, and if she, going against the larger picture, insisted on taking action against him, it would be unwise to reveal his strength.
...It was more appropriate to keep Hui Shuhang by his side.
With that thought, he picked up the red tea.
There was a knock on the door and then, a girl dressed in a complex long gown but acting very rudely, walked in.
Her gaze was guarded as she glanced at Hui Shuhang, then turned to Su Ming’an.
"I have sothing important to tell you," the girl fixated on Su Ming’an. "About my sister."
...Su Ming’an had a good idea who this person was.
"Hui Shuhang," he sensed there were so things not ant for Hui Shuhang’s ears. "You step out for a mont..."
"Bang bang—!"
A dull sound suddenly rose, followed by a couple of unsettling crack noises of bones.
The girl was forcefully pushed down, her head bowed by an abrupt power, her knees hitting the ground hard, lips parting to release a stifled cry of pain.
Standing before her was the little Lolita, her hands shimring with light.
"How dare you!" Hui Shuhang spoke, her voice young but the tone exceedingly grave:
"—In the presence of His Highness, with your status, it is only fitting to kneel and speak."
Reviews
All reviews (0)