Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Mist clung to the morning dew, dampening their clothes as the branches of flowers drooped under the weight of moisture. Dewdrops trickled down the petals, slowly dissipating in the sound of departing footsteps. The city, still shrouded in darkness, seemed to be asleep beneath a heavy blanket of clouds. Old habits die hard; a large handful of stainless steel spoons was hidden away in the bag. A group of people sat in rows, each taking a spoon and gathering around the large pot to scoop out food, resembling piglets eagerly awaiting their meal.
Without much conversation among the team, the atmosphere remained dull. The meal they shared after surviving their ordeal was tasteless, leaving more than half of the pot untouched. Chef Jia, responsible for overseeing their meals, felt helpless in this situation. The group had developed a routine in their eating habits; with the long journey just beginning and their stomachs still full, their reliance on food was not strong yet.
" Jiu Jiu, take your medicine," Luo Yu said as she approached with a water bottle and pills. Dr. Zhong's medical kit was not a treasure chest; there were only a few anti-inflammatory pills left, already allocated according to the number and condition of the injured. It would be best if everyone recovered quickly; if they ran out midway, they would have to endure.
Song Jiu took the pills and chewed them down dry before handing the water bottle back to Luo Yu. For some reason, seeing the fine beads of sweat on her forehead made him feel a pang of sympathy. He recalled Song Yao's joking remark from earlier: "Why do you let your sister-in-law do everything?" It was true; he had grown accustomed to letting her handle everything, big or small.
"What are you looking at?" Luo Yu felt uncomfortable under his strange gaze and instinctively looked away.
"Nothing. You should rest for a bit," Song Jiu chuckled awkwardly, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. "You've worked hard."
Luo Yu's expression became even more peculiar as she seriously reached out to touch Song Jiu's forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"
Song Jiu was at a loss for words; he was merely concerned about her well-being—was it really necessary for her to react like that?
Wu Wentao sat cross-legged nearby, laughing heartily as smoke he hadn't inhaled burst from his nostrils, causing him to cough for quite some time.
Song Jiu shot him an annoyed glance just as Song Yao and a few others approached.
"You have a fever," Song Yao said with concern.
"I don't," Song Jiu replied dejectedly. It seemed that being a warm-hearted person wasn't something one could just decide to be; just when he thought he could show some care for his remaining confidant, Luo Yu completely dismissed it.
Luo Yu smiled lightly, rising from the crowd with the intention of taking a quick nap. He hadn't slept a wink the night before, and now that he had relaxed, he was starting to feel drowsy.
Wu Wentao inexplicably chuckled for a moment, crushed his cigarette butt, and tossed the remaining half pack to Song Jiu. "I'm out of smokes. Make this last."
"Sure."
"I'm quitting smoking." Wu Wentao brushed off the dust from his clothes, shot Song Jiu a meaningful glance, winked, and whispered, "You’re just like me; better off being single. Don’t go messing with girls."
"Shut up." Song Jiu retorted irritably. He was just looking out for his own people; why was Wu Wentao thinking about such nonsense?
Song Yao and Luci exchanged glances, puzzled by the cryptic exchange between the two. After a moment of silence, Song Yao spoke up, "This situation won't do; morale is too low. You need to think of something."
"I..." Song Jiu picked up a cigarette and sniffed it helplessly. "I have no idea."
"The crew you used to lead had plenty of spirit," Luci said, sitting with a water bottle in hand, looking troubled. "Look at them now; at this rate, we might not even make it to Zhoushan."
"We fought tooth and nail for our lives back then. Now that we've barely survived, it's a miracle we haven't disbanded. How can you expect them to be all fired up?" Song Jiu looked puzzled; he couldn't understand what these two sisters were getting at. They had been seasoned survivors in chaotic times for years—didn't they grasp this?
"That's why we need you to come up with something," Song Yao said, twisting his ear and spinning him around in frustration. "You little brat, how dare you act impatient when talking to me?"
"Okay, okay!" Song Jiu winced in pain and quickly begged for mercy, feeling even more confused. Just that morning they had been gloomy; how had they suddenly changed after sharing a meal?
"On a serious note, I discussed this with Qixi. You need to lead these people," Song Yao said as she released her grip and gestured toward the group resting nearby. "Don’t worry about Xiao Jin’s crew; the problem is Us's people dragging us down like this."
"I'm just a lone commander now. Besides, we were all doing logistics and internal affairs; you can't expect them to suddenly transform into Black Widows," Song Jiu thought, feeling even more confused. It sounded like her sister was trying to shift the blame.
"To be honest with you," Song Yao sighed and said seriously, "Ming Ge has appointed you as the successor. Although we are currently a ragtag group, if we have decided to start over, we must present ourselves properly. How they perform is one thing; your state of mind is another."
"Where is this coming from?" Song Jiu was completely bewildered. After pondering for a while, she still couldn't grasp what her sister was trying to convey.
Before Song Yao could continue, Song Jiu's eyes suddenly lit up as she remembered something. She furrowed her brows and leaned closer, whispering, "You need to tell me honestly—Ming Ge isn't dead, is he?"
Comment 0 Comment Count