Chapter 43.1


(Past boyfriends? Does not exist; of hotpots and staying overnight.)



There was a small town called An Le Town.


The town had a very famous secondary school called Seventh Secondary School.


There was a campus flower in the secondary school by the name of School Senior Feng who was akin to pleasant suns.h.i.+ne, and she was very well-liked.


Once, School Senior Feng had walked past the small alleyway where Beggar Ding was situated, and she had smiled at him as she gave him some money. Beggar Ding fell in love with her smile immediately.


School Senior Feng’s smile was like the spring winds of March blowing away the winter snow.


For Beggar Ding, protecting School Senior Feng’s smile became the most important mission in his life.


One day, Beggar Ding happened to chance upon School Senior Feng squatting at the entrance of her residential building crying.


Beggar Ding went up to comfort her, and School Senior Feng said: “I didn’t practice my calligraphy properly so Princ.i.p.al Zha scolded me. I know he’s doing this because he wants me to take up my father’s mantle since he was a master in calligraphy. But… I want to learn the guitar, I want to become a singer. I really wish that there will be a day where I can sing while playing the guitar for everyone to listen.”


Beggar Ding said: “You will have a guitar, and you will definitely hold the guitar while singing to him.”


These words became the oath he made to School Senior Feng.


From that moment onwards, he slowly gathered up the money, hoping that on the day of School Senior Feng’s birthday, he could give her a guitar.


Although there were some conflicts between the residents along An Le Town’s streets, it was always tranquil, auspicious and peaceful for the most part.


This lasted until the day where Neighbour Liu accidentally killed the coffin shop’s Boss Meng under the influence of alcohol, and unintentionally triggered a spell. The residents of the entire town started becoming violent murderers. The initial simple conflicts in the neighbourhood took root and became thorns in their hearts, causing them to raise their knives and start killing people.


The cycle of death shrouded the entire An Le Town.


This included Beggar Ding, who accidentally died at 10:30 on the night of August 8.


Concurrently, he revived in the neighbouring town, and his memories were reversed back to 7 August, 10:30 at night.


He originally went to the nearby town to check the prices of the guitar from the luthier.


Upon resurrecting and waking up, he could not remember why he had pa.s.sed out on the streets, but he still remembered that he was just a small amount away from gathering enough money to buy the guitar.


After waking up in the neighbouring town, he rushed back to An Le Town without stopping to rest.


As he was returning back to the small alley where he typically begged for food, he walked past the coffin shop, encountered Boss Meng, and asked him for money as per usual.


He did not purely want money either; he would usually help these bosses on his own accord if they had any dirty or laborious work that needed doing.


But Boss Meng found the entire matter strange when he saw Beggar Ding.


— He had clearly seen Beggar Ding’s corpse last night, how did Beggar Ding manage to appear before him today?


Boss Meng recalled the spell that his father left behind and understood everything.


All of a sudden, an evil thought arose in his mind.


Hence, he called Beggar Ding into his coffin shop and told him the secret regarding the witchcraft.


After hearing his exposition, Beggar Ding was extremely upset. “So, we’ve all been trapped inside a cycle of death where we mutually killed each other ceaselessly? But… Who was the one who killed School Senior Feng?”


Boss Meng said: “I don’t know either. In any case, she did die. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the small alleyway and take a look. Her corpse should be there.”


Beggar Ding asked: “As long as someone commits suicide, everything will be broken? And she’ll truly continue living?”


Boss Meng replied, “Yes. Only a suicide can resolve the witchcraft. When that time comes, she’ll be able to break away from the fate of unending deaths.”


“I know what should be done… in order to ensure that she lives, I’m not afraid of death.


“It’s just a pity that…. I can’t give her the guitar with my own hands.”


Beggar Ding took out all the money he had on his person and handed it to Boss Meng. “Boss Meng, if I commit suicide, it’ll be considered as saving you too, right? I only ask for something small in return; help me buy a guitar and send it to her, alright?


“I’ve already gathered up most of the money, you don’t need to fork out much. There’s just a little bit more… before she can have the guitar. Her birthday is next month, on the 10th of October. Can you help me please?”


Boss Meng took the money and agreed.


Touched, Beggar Ding knelt down and gave him a kowtow before he departed, like he was treating Boss Meng as his great benefactor.


How could he have known that he was being used by Boss Meng?


Owing to the talk he had with Boss Meng that afternoon, Beggar Ding knew that the food that BBQ Li gave him was poisoned.


But he ate it without any hesitation.


The first time he ate the poisoned barbeque, he had been unaware of the circ.u.mstance.


In that instance, the murderer who killed him was BBQ Li.


This time around, he knew there was poison but he chose to eat it willingly, which resulted in his suicide.


At 10:30, on the night of August 9, Beggar Ding died for the second time.


But this time, as a person who was genuinely seeking death in his suicide, he was no longer under the protection of the “Undying Spell”.


The spell broke, and everyone else gained a new life.


The person who tricked Beggar Ding into committing suicide was Boss Meng.


Hence, Boss Meng was the real murderer in this case.


* * *


Breakfast.


After ladling out the porridge and carrying out an a.s.sortment of pastries, Yang Ye picked up one of the pastries and bit into it. Then, he looked over to Gu Liang and realised that he was in a daze.


Since Gu Liang had just finished his porridge, he had yet to wipe his mouth and there was some remnants staining the top of his lips like a milk moustache which looked quite cute.


Seeing that, Yang Ye smiled unconsciously before he asked him: “What are you thinking about?”


Gu Liang returned to his reverie, only saying: “Nothing really, just pondering about the case. When you remove the disorderly timelines and the complicated settings, this is actually a very simple story.”


“Oh? Why do you say that?”


“It’s just a story about a boy working hard to scrounge up enough money to buy a guitar for the girl, only to sacrifice his life for her in the end. But it’s a pity that he didn’t manage to buy the guitar, considering his demise. It’s similar to how I…”


Gu Liang wanted to say: How I felt when I thought of how I would never get to know the taste of the breaded pork cutlets that Yang Ye made again. The regret he felt must have shared some similarities with Beggar Ding’s state of mind.


But judging from his current circ.u.mstances, he was more fortunate than Beggar Ding.


Noticing that Gu Liang cut off his own words, Yang Ye asked him: “It’s similar to what?”


Gu Liang shook his head. “It’s nothing.”


Yang Ye followed with another question: “Huh? Why did you cut off your own words then?”


With the clothes that hung on him in a loose fas.h.i.+on and his still damp hair, Yang Ye looked quite rakish. His appearance earlier this morning where he only had a towel around his waist being added as memory fodder did not help matters either; in fact, it only deepened the impression that he had the airs of a hooligan.


Upon seeing such an appearance, Gu Liang could not imagine how he should have looked like when he called him a hero.


“Yang Ye said I was a hero.”


“The breaded pork cutlets that Yang Ye made was very delicious.”


……


Gu Liang remembered the words that he had written down in his journal.


However, the line where Yang Ye had called him a hero was first written on a paper that he had later torn, which was only restored for his viewing after he had shaded it in with a pencil.


Truth to be told, Gu Liang did not have a clear memory of what had happened then.


But when he saw those words, an incredibly familiar warmth had emerged in his heart.


But now he was questioning himself. Was this warmth really brought by the person sitting in front of him?


Gu Liang had some doubts.


Frankly speaking, he could only blame Yang Ye’s appearance for looking too improper.


“You zoned out again, what are you thinking about?”


This time, Gu Liang spoke the truth. “Just thinking that you’re too improper.”


Yang Ye pulled out a piece of tissue paper before he raised his chin to gesture at Gu Liang: “How am I improper? You’re the one who’s improper.”


Gu Liang: “?”


Yang Ye teased him: “You got yourself drunk in a man’s house late at night.”


Gu Liang: “??”


Yang Ye moved the tissue over to Gu Liang’s mouth to wipe it. “You, having a ‘milk moustache’ like a child, that’s called being proper?”


Gu Liang: “???”


Yang Ye: “Hey, you’re not allowed to get angry, I’m just teasing.”


Gu Liang: “……”


— The warmth and grat.i.tude he felt yesterday, was it really derived from this person?


Yang Ye balled up the tissue he had used to wipe Gu Liang’s mouth and threw it into the dustbin. “What were you trying to say before you cut off your words?”


Gu Liang stood up and started clearing the cutlery. “Oh, I just wanted to say that the breaded pork cutlets you made is really quite tasty.”


“Huh? Just that? What’s the point of cutting off those words?”


The clattering noises of the dishes being washed travelled out from the kitchen, as if they were Gu Liang’s response to Yang Ye’s question.


Once he was done was.h.i.+ng the dishes, Gu Liang exited the kitchen to wipe down the dining table.


He noticed that a small blanket was still spread across the sofa.


As Yang Ye was helping Gu Liang fold the waist ap.r.o.n he had taken off, he heard him voice an offhanded question: “You slept on the sofa last night?”


Yang Ye adjusted his gla.s.ses reflexively. “Yeah.”


Abruptly, Yang Ye discovered a problem that was far more sensitive.


It goes without saying that he could not sleep with Gu Liang last night.


With the state of his restless heart, and how small the bed was, what was he going to do if he were to scare Gu Liang Liang with some obvious reaction?


However, both of them had consistently shared the same bed and pillow in the previous script.


And now that he was suddenly avoiding it, he did not know if Gu Liang would become aware that there was some kind of problem instead.


In three seconds, Yang Ye conjured an excuse and spoke off the cuff: “There’s something I’ve been hiding from you. When we were in Xiaoyao Sect, you kicked me off the bed as you were dreaming in the middle of the night. You’re always kicking people when you’re sleeping, you can’t keep to yourself at all. I can’t sleep with you again.”


Gu Liang: “…………”


Yang Ye reckoned he had annoyed Gu Liang, even though it was just the early morning.


In any case, he succeeded in making him go back to his own coffin shop to sleep at night.


The arrangements stayed the same for the next three consecutive nights.


Although there was little to no difference in the intrinsic essence of their relations.h.i.+p as they went from brotherly friends who shared the same bed to harmonious neighbours, Yang Ye still felt like there was a huge disparity when everything was said and done.


Yang Ye mulled over how he could make use of the fifteen days of downtime to close the distance between him and Gu Liang.


But who could have thought that Xun Feng would suddenly fall sick, and that his illness would be quite severe with symptoms of vomiting, diarrhoea, headaches and fevers. Hence, for the next five days, Gu Liang went over to take care of him.


Since Xun Feng finally recovered today, Gu Liang had nothing to do so he went back to his coffin shop to take a comfortable bath, and he was planning to sleep earlier when he heard knocking at his door.


Clad in the poor-quality white T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans that were provided by the game as props, Gu Liang picked up a towel to dry his hair as he went to open the door.


Borrowing the light from the lamp, Gu Liang saw a red-faced Yang Ye upon opening the door.


He was braced on the door frame to stand up right, and his entire person looked extremely lethargic.


“What’s wrong?” Gu Liang asked him.


Yang Ye’s tone of voice was thin and weak: “Fell sick, have a fever.”


Gu Liang: “……”


— Why were they falling ill one by one? Was a man not allowed his rest?


Despite that, Gu Liang still allowed Yang Ye to come in the end.


Gu Liang supported him across the main hall that was fully decked out with coffins and brought him to the second floor before helping him lie down on the bed. He pressed the back of his hand on his forehead. “It feels quite hot to the touch. Hold on, I’ll get some rubbing alcohol before giving you a wet towel.”


Gu Liang rubbed some alcohol on Yang Ye’s palms and feet and then placed a wet towel on his forehead. All in all, his caretaking was very comprehensive.


Yang Ye continued to climb the pole. “I’m a little hungry.”


Gu Liang: “I’ll cook some porridge for you?”


Yang Ye: “Thanks.”


When Gu Liang left the room, Yang Ye immediately sat up with the vigour of a lively dragon and an animated tiger. No matter how you looked at it, he did not look sick.


However, as Yang Ye thought back about Gu Liang’s actions, he felt a mix of warmth and jealousy.


— Was this how he cared for Xun Feng over the past few days?


After some time, Gu Liang carried the porridge and the side dish in.


It was white porridge and eggs with soy sauce.


Yang Ye: “…..”


Gu Liang gave the overall appearance of the food a fleeting look. Hesitantly, he asked: “Do you want me to add some vinegar?”


“It’s okay. It’s good enough.” Yang Ye picked up the egg with his chopsticks to take a bite before he commented: “You have good craftsmans.h.i.+p.”


Gu Liang: “You’re allowed to state the truth.”


Yang Ye: “Little pitiful one, you must have lived really miserable days. I’ll do the cooking in the future.”


“That’s garrulous of you. Have you recovered?” Gu Liang asked.


Yang Ye drank some of the white porridge. Although there was no sugar added, he felt that it was particularly sweet. “Didn’t you rub alcohol on me, gave me a cold cloth, and made me tasty porridge? I feel much better as a result of it.”


Gu Liang raised his eyebrows. “Were you faking it?”


“How could I?” Yang Ye put down his bowl and chopsticks, voice becoming fainter again.


He lied down partially before he s.h.i.+fted closer to the edge of the bed and patted the s.p.a.ce he had vacated on his side: “Let’s squeeze? And sleep together?”


The second floor of Gu Liang’s place was an attic, and there was no area to place furniture similar to that of a sofa.


The only place that could be slept on was only this bed.


However, due to some unknown misgivings, Gu Liang did not choose to sleep on the bed. Instead, he opened the closet and took out some bedsheets to make a bed on the ground before he laid on it directly. “How could I possibly steal a bed from a patient? You can sleep on it.”


“I’ll sleep on the ground, you can get up.”


“You have a fever, behave yourself, alright? I’m going to sleep, stop fussing.”


Soon after, the room became silent.


Although a long time had pa.s.sed, Yang Ye did not hear Gu Liang’s breathing elongate, and he knew that he was not asleep yet.


Hence, Yang Ye probed with a question: “Is Xun Feng feeling better?”


“He’s feeling better. It was probably a case of gastroenteritis,” said Gu Liang.


“Did the past few days tire you out?”


“It was alright. He wasn’t very keen on allowing me to take care of him either.”


“Then, he… did he say anything to you?”


“Hm? Do you happen to know something?”


With Gu Liang’s response, it was apparent that he had conversed with Xun Feng about something.


In spite of his heart tightening, Yang Ye vaguely said, “Roughly. Talk about yours first.”


Gu Liang said, “It was nothing really. We just talked some things through.”


Yang Ye opened his eyes and leaned his body over to look at Gu Liang who was lying on the bed he made on the ground.


The night colours were dim and hazy; with the limited moonlight filtering through through the window muslin, he could barely discern Gu Liang’s thin side silhouette.


After a long time, Yang Ye asked: “And have you reached a proper conclusion?”


In lieu of answering, Gu Liang merely thought about the scene at Xun Feng’s house that day.

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