lunar riviera

***

Fei Du's twenty-second birthday was a real disaster.

First, he was in a car accident and suffered a bone fracture; running back and forth to the hospital wore him out until nightfall. Just when he finally managed to sit down and had barely taken a couple of bites of cake, something happened to Chenchen.

The following year, when he turned twenty-three, that July was still not any better.

For one thing, he was swamped with work. After all, catching the bad guys wasn’t the end of it; there were still long trials and investigations ahead. Unresolved injustices had to be laid bare once more to be cleared, and the cries of the bereaved had to be recorded anew. He had to attend countless funerals, cooperate with countless investigations, and make arrangements for countless people.

By summer, Fei Du’s gunshot wound had healed, but his ankle had developed a “weather forecast” function—it would flare up whenever it was cloudy or raining. And for some reason, this summer brought an unusually heavy amount of rain. It drizzled and drizzled without end, as if the entire city were in mourning.

Mourning… was more agonizing than revenge.

Fei Du hadn't been able to handle the strain well lately. He’d only just been in the ICU once last year, and at the beginning of the year, he’d suffered serious injuries at the hands of Fan Siyuan. No matter how young he was, he couldn’t withstand such repeated physical tolls. In June, he’d been battling a heat-induced cold for over a month. He’d have recurring low-grade fevers at night, but the doctors couldn’t pinpoint the cause. They simply told him his immunity was low and advised him to eat well and get plenty of rest—advice the doctors themselves couldn’t follow. So Fei Du just listened and let it go, not taking it to heart. When others asked, he’d say, “I’m fine.”

It wasn’t that he was putting on a brave face; he genuinely believed it wasn’t a big deal.

Physiologically speaking, “pain” wasn't an illness; one could even say that “pain” didn't exist. It was merely a rudimentary signaling mechanism within the body, one that frequently sounded false alarms for no apparent reason, like a malfunctioning smoke detector.

Fei Du was skilled at managing pain. If his leg kept him awake at night, he would calmly visualize the pain dissolving into his bloodstream and spreading throughout his body. With the area of pain expanded, the pressure naturally lessened. After a summer of practice, he was already able to control his breathing and heart rate within thirty seconds. And according to his experience, even if one failed to fall asleep, simply closing one’s eyes and resting in this calm state could still yield decent results—the next morning, he would still be full of energy.

As for the other minor symptoms, since the doctor had said they were nothing to worry about, then they were nothing to worry about. He treated them like nearsightedness—though, come to think of it, nearsightedness was actually far more serious—and eventually got used to them.

Cats were also good at enduring pain; even an exception as vocal as Luo Yiguo would only curl up and bear it when feeling unwell, occasionally scratching things but otherwise finding a quiet corner to hide in. But the litterbox attendant always managed to spot something amiss right away—whether it was a can of food left half-full or a trash can that was still intact.

*

Luo Wenzhou was completely distracted while eating lunch in the office cafeteria. Tao Ran walked by and casually asked him, “What’s for lunch today?”

For a moment, Luo Wenzhou's mind went completely blank. Fortunately, Tao Ran was just making small talk and didn’t expect an answer; he simply went to look at the menu himself.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tao Ran sat down, polished off half a bowl of rice in two bites, and noticed Luo Wenzhou was still picking at his food, eating only sporadically. “You’re not even eating with enthusiasm. Is something wrong with your head?"

Luo Wenzhou sighed. “It's Fei Du, that wretch. He keeps saying everything’s fine.”

Tao Ran was completely baffled. “What’s wrong with him?”

He’d seen him yesterday; he seemed perfectly fine, looking smooth as silk, in good spirits, and even telling him to pass on a few messages to Chang Ning.

“That bastard is a master at putting on a show," Luo Wenzhou said. "Do you really think you can tell if he’s okay or not?”

That remark seemed to take a dig at both of them, but luckily Tao Ran had a good temperament and didn’t take it personally, and only asked, “So what’s the deal?”

Luo Wenzhou continued to sigh. “He’s still not over his cold.”

Tao Ran opened his mouth to speak, but his manners stopped him. He thought to himself: Are you out of your mind? Even the Iron Fan Princess got an upset stomach after accidentally swallowing Sun Wukong. Humans eat all kinds of grains—how could they not have a few minor ailments? Fei Du is such a strapping young man; he’s not some frail old person or invalid. What harm could a little headache or fever do to him?

Luo Wenzhou remained deeply worried, muttering to himself: “His cold hasn’t cleared up, but I didn’t hear him coughing last night.” …Which suggested he might not have been asleep at all. "The candy box on the coffee table used to need restocking every week or two, but this one was bought last month, and when I checked yesterday, it was still more than half full."

Just as Tao Ran was about to say, Doesn’t that mean his lifestyle has improved?, a message popped up on his phone. He picked it up to glance at it and suddenly lost all interest in small talk.

Luo Wenzhou snapped back to attention. “What’s wrong? Who is it?”

“A colleague from a police station in one of our subordinate districts. We connected when I was investigating the Su family case and went to interview the victims’ families.” Tao Ran sighed. “He just told me that the mother of one of the victims died. The preliminary judgment is suicide.”

“Suicide?” Luo Wenzhou frowned. “Fei Du's foundation should have a mutual aid group. Let me check.”

The foundation belonged to Fei Du, but recalling the nearly untouched candy box at home, Captain Luo's heart, fully concentrated on Fei Du, immediately sank. He didn’t want to disturb him and messaged Zhou Huaijin instead.

The reply came quickly and was terse, simply stating, I see, so Luo Wenzhou decided to call Zhou Huaijin, who could only tell him, “Our people are on the case, seeing what they could do to help. It’s a shame, but this isn’t the first time this has happened.”

In fact, many people cannot hold on after finally getting a resolution. Once the dust settles and there are no lingering attachments tying you to the past, there’s no future either. Luo Wenzhou understood this truth and sighed.

Zhou Huaijin sighed as well. “You see, when something happens, everyone advises you to ‘look ahead’. Who doesn’t know they should look ahead? But it’s actually a paradox. If you tell someone who has severed all ties with the past to look ahead, what on earth can they possibly see?”

“What about you?” Luo Wenzhou asked.

“I’m doing just fine, thank you,” Zhou Huaijin replied calmly. “I plan to find something bigger to do, or convert to a deity greater than myself, hide away, and survive by ‘borrowing the tiger’s power,’ until all of that becomes a thing of the past.”

The two fell silent for a moment. Perhaps finding the atmosphere too heavy, Zhou Huaijin deliberately lightened his tone: “Oh, right. It’s President Fei’s birthday next week, and everyone wants to throw him a proper celebration—what’s he been missing lately? Captain Luo, give us some ideas.”

Luo Wenzhou replied with a straight face: “The gift definitely has to be something others don’t have. Things like a thermos, thermal underwear, a tennis racket, or running shoes would be great.”

Mr. Zhou, ever the gentleman, listened to Luo Wenzhou’s ill-intentioned “breakup package” suggestion, then politely and tactfully told him to go cool off somewhere before hanging up the phone.

*

Fei Du celebrated his birthday at the office at noon. Even for a smooth operator like him, it was a bit much to handle. After all, his company was in a unique situation right now—organizing events was no longer purely a matter of business etiquette; it had become mixed with many people offering genuine support, which was troublesome, and heartfelt occasions were even more exhausting.

No wonder people used to say that those "neither too old nor too young" didn't celebrate their birthdays. The social obligations required to make ends meet were already a hassle enough; celebrating a birthday was practically asking for trouble.

After a long, tiring day, by the time he got home, even with the long days of late July the twilight had already prompted the streetlights to come on. With his superb driving skills, Fei Du squeezed the car right into the corner parking space that Luo Wenzhou had painstakingly managed to rent. He sat alone in the car for five minutes to collect his thoughts, hoping Lao Luo wouldn’t come up with any more hassle to put him through and that he would just cook him a bowl of noodles for dinner.

The sound of him coming in startled Luo Wenzhou in the kitchen and he raised his head. “Come in, come in. I talked to Zhou Huaijin—the crew didn't let you drink, did they?”

"Not a single drop, Mr Policeman," Fei Du replied. "You guys are always patrolling under the bridge nearby anyway, so I wouldn't dare."

“You drove back on your own?”

Luo Wenzhou was stumped for a moment—although he’d managed to rent a parking spot, the space was rather narrow and a bit short, making it difficult to park. On top of that, Lu Jia and his crew were always trying to hitch a ride with him, often acting as his driver under the pretext of “taking care of the injured.” Because of that, Fei Du hadn't been driving himself to and from work much lately.

But then Luo Wenzhou quickly caught on and chuckled, “You’re just looking for some peace and quiet, aren't you?”

Fei Du took off his watch and tossed it onto the shoe rack, then shrugged. “That's what you get for being too popular.”

"Brat," Luo Wenzhou muttered, returning to the kitchen. “The cake’s in the fridge. Cut yourself a slice, but don’t eat too much… You can't even eat that? Save it for breakfast tomorrow, I’ll just make you a bowl of noodle soup tonight. Hmm… We’ll still need eggs with that, maybe I'll add a little less noodles?”

Fei Du picked up Luo Yiguo’s pot and weighed it in his hands, then respectfully put it back in its place. He washed his hands, poured some cat food, and muttered something casually.

He felt a bit off. Before he’d even stepped inside their house, his head had already been buzzing with all sorts of emotions—he’d only hoped Luo Wenzhou would whip up a bowl of noodles for him. And Lao Luo seemed to have read his mind, granting his wish exactly as he’d wanted… yet he still felt a vague sense of disappointment. It was like he'd stepped into thin air and then stumbled.

Fortunately, Fei Du was overly mature; even after missing a step, he regained his footing immediately and quickly composed himself, recovering from his momentary "unreasonable outburst". He strolled into the kitchen, asking, “Shixiong, could you crack the eggs into a heart shape?”

Luo Wenzhou, who had just cracked the eggs straight into the soup pot, went speechless.

Watching Luo Wenzhou—who was muttering “No way, get lost” under his breath, while still fetching a frying pan and an egg mold—Fei Du’s ankle, which had twisted slightly from that earlier “misstep,” had fully healed.

“The gift’s in the study. Get it yourself. Get out, don’t mess around in the kitchen.”

Fei Du lazily retreated. “Thermos or a tennis racket and running shoes?”

“Can't Zhou Huaijin keep his mouth shut? Why didn’t you guess thermal underwear?”

“...I really wouldn't want to see that.”

Then he found a square, flat box in the study. Judging by the packaging, he could rule out the thermos, racket, and running shoes—it really looked a lot like the one thing he least wanted to face.

Fei Du chuckled at first, but as he began to unwrap it, he let out an undignified yelp.

“Lao Luo, I like you this much, and this is how you treat me?”

“Huh? The stove is too loud, I can’t hear you!”

But inside the cardboard box wasn’t a set of thermal underwear that would make anyone break out in a sweat at a single glance, but rather a rather elegant… photo album?

Fei Du flipped open the first page and froze. He saw a group photo from kindergarten, with a familiar-looking little boy standing in the corner of the last row, staring blankly at the camera...

When was this taken?

Fei Du couldn’t remember; he didn’t even have a copy of this photo himself.

Next to the group photo was a card with neat but unfamiliar handwriting:

Hi Dudu, Happy Birthday (I know your real name isn’t that silly, but I didn't know how to read when I was little, so this is what I remember you being called).

I'm the handsome little guy in the second-to-last row of the photo, the one crying with snot bubbles. The reason I cried so much is because Tata (the best-looking little foreigner in the last row) gave you the lollipop she always gave me. That was the first time in my life I tasted the bitterness of heartbreak, and it left me with an ugly photo. Thank you, brother. Although you only came for less than a week, you left me with a lifelong scar. I'll remember you forever.

It was signed "Jianjian, the second most handsome boy in the Squirrel Class at Jinbeibei Kindergarten."

“Jianjian,” “Tata,” “Squirrel Class”—Fei Du had absolutely no recollection of any of that. He only vaguely remembered that when he was little, while Fei Chengyu was away, his mother had tried to enroll him in an international kindergarten near their home… back when she was still occasionally able to go out on her own.

Unfortunately, he didn't enjoy the carefree childhood at the kindergarten. Like a wolf cub that had wandered into a sheepfold right under the shepherd's nose, he felt out of place. He looked down on his simple-minded classmates and, like Su Luozhan, harboured a condescending malice towards them… though, many years later, he realized that perhaps it was merely a twisted form of jealousy.

Later, when Fei Chengyu returned and found out what had happened, he rushed to "rescue" him, taking him away from that place "reeking of milk and full of idiots". That experience was unremarkable; Fei Du thought he didn’t remember a single classmate or teacher. But the moment he saw the card, a faint memory suddenly surfaced: a summer afternoon, sitting alone in the shade of a tree. He knew a few children were staring at him, but he didn’t care and didn’t want to acknowledge them.

Suddenly, a mixed-race little girl walked over, silently shoved a lollipop into his hand, and ran off. For the rest of the afternoon, children kept running up to him, inexplicably shoving bits of junk into his hands: handkerchiefs, old scraps of paper, hair ties, small stones… The background noise was a confusing wail—that “Jianjian” kid seemed to have quite a large lung capacity.

The second page had a photo of Fei Du as a Young Pioneer representative from when he first started elementary school. The card was written by the girl in the first row behind him. Again, it was a photo he didn't own himself, and he didn't recognize the classmates either—it seemed that the ones behind him weren't from his class.

A girl from the next class wrote on her card that she grew up with her grandparents, and children raised by grandparents are prone to forgetting things. She often got points deducted by the gatekeepers for forgetting her red scarf.

“Every time I forgot my red scarf, I hoped you’d be on duty at the door, because if I begged you before the other monitors noticed, I could always get a spare one. We all called you ‘The Good Gatekeeper’ behind your back. Every time the gatekeepers changed, everyone secretly approached people from your class, begging them to vote for you."

Fei Du fell silent. No wonder he was so distant from his classmates when he was younger, yet somehow managed to be elected as a duty student for six years.

“P.S., here’s a secret,” the last line on the card read, “Tong Lin and Li Zhao from your class both liked you. Zhou Kai liked Tong Lin and was always looking for a reason to pick on you, but since you’d once given him a red scarf, he felt too embarrassed to act on it. He spent the whole time agonizing over it until graduation.”

Flipping through the album, there were photos of him setting up a microphone at the school radio station during a sport event, promotional photos taken by teachers during his work-study program, and a side profile shot taken by someone else during graduation... The range of people who wrote the cards was incredibly vast, including classmates he barely remembered or didn't know at all, the owner of the educational supply store, Luo Wenzhou's colleagues from the bureau, the security guard of Tao Ran's apartment complex, the waiter at the restaurant he frequented during his middle school years…

These people all remembered him in different ways. In their minds, sometimes he was an "annoyingly good student, very pretentious," sometimes a "cool and aloof heartthrob from the next class." He was the "annoying kid everyone admired," causing his classmates to get a beating from their parents, and the supermarket owner even nicknamed him "Little Rooster candy terminator." The waiter still remembered him too, saying he "never wanted scallions, so he always added extra cilantro; and his parents must have been very irresponsible."

Suddenly, Fei Du felt a strange sensation, as if his twenty years of loneliness and fragility had been stuffed into a kaleidoscope. Countless people came and went, their lives intersecting with his, each leaving behind a shadow. Now, those shadows had become postcards, mailed back to him in his twenty-third year. They fell upon him like goose feathers, each one seeming like an invitation to a reunion in this world.

His whole being swelled up, puffy as a down jacket.

There were too many photos; Fei Du couldn't finish looking at them. He slammed the album shut, strode out of the study, and wondered where Luo Wenzhou had found all these pictures and people. Did he have to conduct a door-to-door investigation, questioning everyone individually? How could he have possibly gathered so many people who still remembered him after all these years?

“Hurry up and eat your birthday noodles,” Luo Wenzhou said, setting the table with his back to Fei Du, seemingly oblivious to everything that just happened. “You asked for the eggs, so you have to finish it all—you hear me, brat? Look at them. That's some serious frying skills right there.”

Having said that, he snapped a photo, incredibly proud of himself, and posted it in a private group chat with his friends.

Both of their phones vibrated at the same time.

Tao Ran sent a picture of instant noodles with a message, A bowl of noodles for you. Chang Ning posted a shot of Chenchen making a heart shape with her hands and a text, A heart for you. Lang Qiao followed with a photo of a slice of cake and the caption, Some cake for you.

Then Tao Ran, whose emotional intelligence had recently improved through Fei Du's training, immediately retracted his message and posted Noodles for you again, joining the chain only after the ladies.

It was just Xiao Haiyang, slow to react and oblivious to the atmosphere, that took a long time to type, only to send a pseudo-human message: President Fei, the bright moon rises over the sea and we share this moment though far apart. Happy birthday.

Luo Wenzhou glanced at the crescent moon just peeking over the horizon and said, “Do those two lines go together, Four Eyes? Are we celebrating Mid-Autumn Festival early here? Alright then, you’re on duty when it actually comes.”

Xiao Haiyang went silent.

The group chat immediately erupted with laughter at the expense of that poor soul. Fei Du, adorned with countless threads of worldly life, hadn't even had a chance to speak before Luo Wenzhou had him pinned to the table, making him stare at the perfectly shaped fried egg in the soup bowl. The steam from the hot noodle soup made him break out in a sweat even in the height of summer, and the lingering chill deep in his bones quietly vanished.

⚓ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: 「生者不幸」 “𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝓤𝓷𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓾𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮”

⚓ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞: August 18, 2024 10:00 - 22:00 (24 Fanworks in Total)

⚓ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦: Weibo

⚓ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠: #南部档案中元节产粮活动# or #南部档案洄游季#

⚓ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

“𝑯𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒍𝒚, 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.”

“𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅. 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕, 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔. 𝑯𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚.”

“𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒎. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈.”

“𝑵𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒄 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒚-𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒌𝒚, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒂, 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒛𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍.”

“𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉. 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔.”

“𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏, 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒏. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒏. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆.”

“𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒈𝒐. 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.”

“𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.”

“𝑶𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇-𝒍𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝑮𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅, 𝒘𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔.”

“𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔, 𝒏𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎. 𝑯𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒘 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚. 𝑺𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔. 𝑰𝒕 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆.”

“𝑨 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.”

“𝑵𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔, 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒗𝒂, 𝒏𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅. 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓.”

“𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚, 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅, 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒛𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒖𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏.”

“𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉. 𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈-𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎.”

“𝑵𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒅. 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕. 𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅. 𝑯𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒂 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑.”

“𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒎𝒆.”

“𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓.”

“𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑫𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒑. 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒑𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒑𝒔𝒆, 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔.”

“𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒂𝒏'𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒅, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑯𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒅'𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒍𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚.”

“𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚.”

“𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅. 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒂 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒎, 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒖𝒑 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒅𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒐. 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈.”

“𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎.”

“𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒅?”

“𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒌𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆. 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅.”

-mtl