Lin Guang was catching a butterfly.
He held an insect net, with myriad ginkgo leaves flying around him like a golden dream.
The sunlight poured through the golden leaves, he tilted his head back as if to bury it in the full spread of spring.
"Tap, tap, tap."
Walking on the soft carpet of golden leaves, he reached out his hand, but the butterfly quickly flew away, so he began to use the net to try to catch the butterfly.
"Snap!"
A crisp sound resonated, it seed Lin Guang had used too much force, and a wing of the butterfly was hit by the edge of the net and tore.
Then, the butterfly started to speak.
"Poor Bug Catcher."
"You want to capture , but this will tear my wings."
"You want to keep , but all you will have is a specin."
"Let go, let go, give ti to escape."
"If you can catch up with , I will no longer run."
...
Lin Guang felt curious, he had never seen a talking butterfly before.
"Alright, you run, I’ll chase," he said.
The butterfly fluttered away.
It flew in the air, leaving a trail of blood. Lin Guang slowly followed it, carrying the net.
The ginkgo trees were lush, the wind gentle, the leaves "rustled" in dance. The blood on the ground trickled and blended into the golden carpet.
Lin Guang walked in this half-dream, half-awake state, as if stepping on soft marshmallows, a subtle pleasure in his heart.
...
"Poor Bug Catcher, why do you insist on keeping ?"
"My wings are not spectacular, their shape and color not perfect. I am not outstanding among other butterflies. Why did you choose ?"
Lin Guang replied—
"You are the first butterfly I have seen that is not afraid of the Bug Catcher."
"Of course, I want to keep you."
...
"Then co on, chase, then co on, chase."
"Poor Bug Catcher, co and chase ."
...
Lin Guang quickened his pace.
For a mont, he forgot who he was, forgot his mission, his eyes only saw the stumbling butterfly, its golden wings layered with a splendid sunlight.
He dared not look away, the butterfly and those fluttering ginkgo leaves looked too similar, and it liked to deliberately hide among them.
"But how could a butterfly and a leaf be the sa?" he whispered.
One is alive, a small miracle in the sunlight. The other has reached the end of its life, fallen from the branch, and will soon beco mud.
...
"Hurry, co and chase, hurry, co and chase."
"Bug Catcher, use all your strength to chase , try with your net to capture ."
...
Among the fluttering ginkgo leaves, the butterfly shuttled between the old trees, flying atop towering trees, its wings opening and closing, reflecting the sunlight—so free, so brilliant. It seed as if all the beauty in the world had gathered in its silhouette.
Lin Guang followed closely, increasingly narrowing the butterfly’s space for escape, its shedding more blood.
...
"Poor Bug Catcher..."
...
"Butterfly, what did you say?" Lin Guang heard the voice.
...
"You’ve killed so many butterflies, stripped them of their lives, crushed their bodies. You put yourself above them, treating butterflies as your slaves, how could you possibly earn the praise of butterflies?"
...
"I am a Bug Catcher, what praise do I need?" Lin Guang said. "There are too many ugly and stupid butterflies in this world, the world doesn’t need them."
...
"Foolish Bug Catcher, that is where your sorrow lies."
"If God assigned only 30 great n to each era, and each era’s great n produced a fixed number of advanced technologies and ideas to advance civilization. If you were to erase all but the great n, do you think you are extending human history or shortening it?"
"Isn’t the history of mankind a kind of ecological balance? A certain number of great n, a number of ordinary people, a number of sinners, are needed to form the equation of an era."
"Great n are tasked with accelerating the steps of the era. Sinners, on the other hand, are tasked with slowing down the pace, preventing mankind from speeding to its demise. Thus, a civilization can last for a long ti."
"From what perspective do you judge the balance between ’great n’ and ’foolish people’?"
...
Lin Guang stared at the escaping butterfly ahead.
Its words pierced deeper into his heart, like a knife gouging at his thoughts.
"I..." he said softly.
...
"No butterfly will love you, nor will you be able to receive love," the butterfly said:
"The many butterfly specins you’ve made yourself have dood your sinfulness, you will never receive love in this lifeti."
...
"I make specins for the sake of the butterflies themselves," Lin Guang said. "I am just waiting for him to shoot ."
...
"Really?"
The butterfly laughed:
"Is that so?"
...
Lin Guang, mocked by a butterfly, felt anger.
Gripping the net tighter in his hand, he finally cornered the butterfly, aid at its position, and swung with force, the net rushing forward with the wind.
...
"Bug Catcher—Bug Catcher—!!"
"If your intentions are good, why have you wreaked so much carnage?"
"If you remain silent, how do you expect to be understood by others?"
"How can you atone for the evils you have committed with your own hands? How can the lives you’ve taken be reborn? Your sins cannot be whitewashed—"
...
"Enough," Lin Guang roared. "I’ve caught you!"
His force seed too fierce, and the insect net whistled through the air.
"Rustle, rustle—" Ginkgo leaves fluttered into the air with his movents. The butterfly, cornered and desperate, continued to struggle; its wings flapped vigorously—so fragile, yet fighting till the very end.
Then, its wings shattered.
Blood-red specks splattered across Lin Guang’s cheek; he saw the butterfly beneath the net, watched as it bled more and more, and a smile crossed his face.
The butterfly plumted.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
A faint sensation of pain grazed Lin Guang’s cheek, like the sound of breaking glass, but he was too preoccupied to care; he followed the butterfly down.
He reached out his hand, trying to catch the butterfly, but it fell too fast and soon all that was left in his sight was a tiny golden dot.
...
"Pitiful Bug Catcher, are you really going through with this step?"
"If you don’t catch , I will truly shatter."
...
"Slow down—slow down!!" Lin Guang shouted, but the butterfly had fallen milliseconds before, and he couldn’t keep up.
He landed at the bottom of the abyss and saw the broken butterfly; it was smashed. All he could do was approach it and scoop it up with the insect net.
"..."
In the silent void, the haziness before Lin Guang’s eyes seed to fade slightly. He sensed sothing was wrong and was about to figure out what was happening when he heard a familiar voice—
"You’ve done well, Lin Guang. I wasn’t wrong about you."
Lin Guang turned his cloudy eyes, his vision breaking like shattered glass, suddenly revealing the reality of the scene—
A figure in a white coat, holding an umbrella, approached from the rain of the City-State. The person’s deep gray eyes watched him, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, a distinct shoe print on the white coat.
Lin Guang dumbly looked over his shoulder—there were no ginkgo leaves, just the cold rain everywhere.
Under the "insect net" made of crimson hoses, a figure was crushed under layers of hoses, his black hair slickly adhering to the puddles on the ground, his arm twisted unnaturally, blood scattered all around.
"Your gaze seems confused?" the deity approached, holding the umbrella. "Did you fall into a hallucination? What did you see during this ti? What did you hear? Did you dream of catching a butterfly?"
The deity chuckled softly, speaking in hushed tones:
"Actually, it was Su Ming’an whom you were ruthlessly chasing all this way, and you were brutally tearing at him with the hoses, just like tearing the wings of a butterfly. You even drove him off the edge of a building watching him fall from over a hundred floors, had your spirit already collapsed?"
"Thump, thump, thump thump thump—"
Lin Guang heard his own clear heartbeat. He looked at the shattered Su Ming’an beneath the hoses, uttering an incomprehensible whimper.
He crouched down, prying apart the hoses, trying to rescue Su Ming’an from within them. He felt his breathing becoming more and more labored, gasping for air.
"Lin Guang, are you hiding sothing from ?" the deity asked.
"No," Lin Guang replied.
"In the hallucination just now, you seed to reveal so information that I’m not very familiar with," the deity ntioned.
"I... didn’t," Lin Guang firmly denied.
But he soon realized, a hand had fallen on his head. Next was the voice of a deity:
"This is where it ends."
"Since you have dealt with Su Ming’an, I no longer need you for my plan. Although I am a person who keeps promises, considering your instability, I should kill you instead."
"Goodbye... no, farewell, Lin Guang."
...
...
Su Ming’an opened his eyes.
He was still leaning against the window, in the highest hall, surrounded still by screens of vibrant, elderly spring colors.
...Strange. Why was he here?
Ten minutes earlier, Lin Guang had suddenly gone mad trying to catch him, and he had wrangled with Lin Guang in the hall for a mont, eventually having no escape, and could only leap down from the top of the building, the 132nd floor, resulting in severe injuries.
He had clearly fallen to the ground, why had he suddenly returned to the top floor?
He had clearly been severely injured, why was his body restored to its original state?
"Su Ming’an." Suddenly, he heard soone calling him.
As if watching sparks drifting above the coast, Su Ming’an’s vision was still blurry. Su Ming’an looked up, colliding with a pair of... eyes as green as jade.
In the hall, stood a young man with white hair in Hanfu.
"Lv Shu?" Su Ming’an hesitated.
"It’s ," said Lv Shu. "Here."
Lv Shu reached out, the pine cranes and bamboo leaves embroidered on his Hanfu slightly moved. He held a bowl of clear tea, its steam seeming to dispel an entire cold night.
Su Ming’an hesitated for a mont, took the tea bowl, perhaps his hands were too cold, his fingers trembled, and the bowl fell to the ground.
Lv Shu imdiately said, "I’ll make another."
"No need to make another."
Lv Shu, perplexed, said, "Don’t you like it? It seems like that’s the only help I can offer you."
Su Ming’an watched Lv Shu, carefully observing the surroundings, including brightness, light exposure, and the detail of the scenery. He had been deceived too many tis already; vigilance had long Readon in his heart, he challenged, "Are you Lin Guang?"
Lv Shu shook his head: "I am not."
Su Ming’an frowned, then asked, "Then are you Beili Sier?"
Lv Shu shook his head: "He is already shattered, how can I possibly be him."
Su Ming’an then wondered, "Could it be that the deity himself has white hair? Are you the deity?" He carefully recalled if the Ninth World had other white-haired characters that could have caused him to mistake them.
Lv Shu stopped making tea and said in shock, "Am I that good? Good enough for you to have to repeatedly confirm whether or not it’s , good enough for you to cherish so? Could you really not believe it if I returned?"
Su Ming’an nodded and said, "You are my companion, of course, I hope you would return and not wish you had died in the Ninth World... wait, I understand now."
He spoke softly, as if he had grasped the answer: "You must be an illusion."
Looking at Lv Shu’s astonished expression, Su Ming’an coldly said, "You must be an illusion, a trap set by the deity. I won’t be fooled again! Don’t think of deceiving anymore."
He stepped forward and grabbed Lv Shu’s hand, his fingers tightening with a "crack" sound.
"How can I break this illusion?" Su Ming’an tugged, finding Lv Shu still in front of him. He looked around, trying to find sothing different.
This must be an illusion, not reality.
"Mu team! Mu team!" Su Ming’an shouted all around. In the empty hall, only Lv Shu stared at him, stunned.
In Lv Shu’s pupils gathered sorrow, he silently watched Su Ming’an, as if watching a patient entangled by a chronic illness.
Reviews
All reviews (0)