The Creatures That We Are

Chapter 508: Cool

It was penned with black ink, the handwriting neat and done with strong, sharp strokes, clearly written by someone with a calligraphy background.

Who would’ve thought that Wu Dahai, with such a dirty mind, would have such beautiful handwriting?

“Qing Ling, if you’re reading this, I must have died, and you’ve survived.”

“Congrats. Great fortune always follows a close call.”

“There’s something I’ve wanted to apologize to you for, but I can’t put it into words. Hence, the corny letter.”

“I was quite a jerk back when we first met in the arcade. I’m sorry. I wished we’d met each other a few years earlier. I was much less twisted back then. At least I would have left you with a normal impression.”

“After awakening, there was a time when I hated the world. I didn’t treat monsters as people, didn’t treat my companions as people, and I didn’t even treat myself as a person.”

“I told myself that it was all a stupid game, that I could do whatever I wanted. That was how I survived.”

“After meeting you, though, I’ve become a person again. After so long, I realized that it’s still more fun to be a proper person.”

“Gao Yang promised me that he would protect you, but I don’t trust him fully. He’s much too soft. That’s why I decided to offer my help too. I’m giving you these two blades to make you stronger, and then it will be easier for Gao Yang to help keep you safe.”

“So don’t make a big deal out of it. These are not my gifts to you, but tools to make sure Gao Yang honor his word.”

“Still, I hope that you’ll live longer and use these blades to kill more enemies.”

“Won’t that be cool?”

Qing Ling was silent for a moment.

Then she folded the blue sheet of paper and tucked it into her breast pocket, looking up at War Tiger. “I need two sheaths.”

“Leave that to the organization.” War Tiger gave her an OK sign.

...

Gao Yang had thought that Vermilion Bird would drive straight to the Blue House Psychiatric Clinic for a meeting with Qilin and Azure Dragon, but it turned out that Qilin didn’t deem that necessary; he had learned enough from Gao Yang through the call.

Vermilion Bird joked while smoking and driving, “Guildmaster doesn’t have a thick skin. He’s too embarrassed to meet you in person just yet.”

Gao Yang tugged at his lips and offered flattery, “Guildmaster saw the future clearly and guessed that Dragon would come to our rescue.”

“Enough with that.” Vermilion Bird glanced at Gao Yang, who was in the passenger seat. “You must resent Guildmaster a little for not sending help.”

“That would be inappropriate.”

“Geez!” Vermilion Bird called out dramatically. “You’re an Elder already, Seven Shadow. There’s no need to be so cautious. It makes you less charming.”

“I’m not falling for that,” Gao Yang deflected with a smile. “If I change as you said, you’ll tell me next time that you like the old me better.”

Vermilion Bird huffed out a laugh, letting the issue slide.

“Home, or college?” Vermilion Bird asked.

“Home.” Gao Yang’s voice softened, and his gaze cooled.

...

Four forty in the morning, Gao Yang stood at the door to his home. He took a deep breath and inserted the key, unlocking the door and entering.

Standing at the entryway, Gao Yang paused before he changed out of his shoes. The soft lamplight in the living room was on. Wearing navy blue cotton pajamas with her hair loosely pinned up, her mother was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the clock on the wall.

“Mom?” Gao Yang called out softly.

“Yang Yang?” Lin Yue blinked, surprised. “Why did you come home at this time?”

“I don’t have school tomorrow, so I went to a murder mystery with friends tonight. We just finished the game.” Gao Yang smiled as he explained and bent down to change into slippers. “Why are you still up?”

“Ah, I couldn’t sleep for some reason. It’s been a while since I last had trouble sleeping.” His mother smiled with resignation. “The last time was during the two days of your college entrance exams.”

Having changed into slippers, Gao Yang walked up to sit down on the single sofa across from his mother. He asked casually, “Dad and sis?”

“Sleeping.” His mother smiled with her lips pursed, speaking gently. “You should go to bed too. Don’t mind me. I’ll be sitting here for a while. It’s going to be morning soon anyway.”

Gao Yang looked down at his fingers rather than standing up.

After a few silent seconds, he looked up. “Mom...”

“Are you hungry?” His mother cut in suddenly. “You won’t be able to fall asleep on an empty stomach. Why don’t I make a bowl of noodles for you? You should go to sleep after eating.”

“Okay.” Gao Yang swallowed the words that were almost out of his mouth, rubbing his belly. “I am a little hungry.”

“Wait here.” His mother stood up and walked into the kitchen, closing the glass sliding door.

Soon, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking could be heard, as well as the thuds of chopping spring onions on a cutting board, the gurgle of water boiling, the sizzle of oil being poured into a frying pan, the crack of an egg, and the rumble of the range hood.

All familiar sounds that had accompanied Gao Yang for years. He knew all about the rhythms and ebbs and flows of it.

Gao Yang listened to his mother busying about in the kitchen without looking her way, his mind straying, almost having an out-of-body experience.

A little more than ten minutes later, his mother placed a bowl of noodles on the tea table.

It was a simple bowl of noodles, paired with some vegetable, mustard green, and a fried egg. The steam rose, carrying the pleasant aroma of the noodles.

Gao Yang picked up his chopsticks and had a bite. The taste was familiar.

“Good?” his mother asked.

“It’s good.”

“Too salty?”

“No, it’s not too salty.”

“The egg is a little too done.”

“It’s just right.”

The mother sat on the sofa and threw out questions without thinking while watching her son eat, and the son wolfed down the noodles while answering the questions without thinking.

It took only a few minutes for Gao Yang to finish the bowl. He drank two sips of the soup too.

“Is this enough? Should I make more?”

“It’s enough.” Gao Yang drew a tissue and wiped his mouth.

His mother didn’t immediately put the chopsticks away. She looked at Gao Yang with a smile. “Didn’t you have something to say to me?”

Gao Yang averted his eyes and stared at the bowl with some soup remaining.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.

Five o’clock in the morning, the clock on the wall rang five times.

At the end of it, Gao Yang looked up. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Huh?” Lin Yue’s smile stiffened in surprise. “Why are you suddenly apologizing?”

“I lied to you.”

“You lied to me?” Lin Yue narrowed her eyes slightly, confused. “About what?”