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墨書 Inktalez
Clang.
The sound of metal echoed, sparks flying.
The Steel Saw Blade sliced through the air with a faint glimmer, crashing down on the edge of the iron bed. Wu Wentao, sitting on the lower bunk, was startled into a cold sweat. The piercing sound drilled into his ears, and in an instant, he rolled off the side of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Song Jiu raise the steel knife again. Cursing under his breath, he spat out the cigarette he had just lit, pushed himself off the ground, and without a second thought, delivered a kick aimed at Song Jiu's knee.
In the dim room, sounds of struggle filled the air. Wu Wentao lost his balance and fell to the floor, while Song Jiu, who had been kicked, toppled onto the bed. The Steel Saw Blade clattered to the ground with a sharp sound.
"You bastard!" Wu Wentao was furious and frightened. He had already taken a bullet from Song Jiu on the yacht and knew all too well that this guy was deadly when provoked. Not daring to hesitate, he quickly performed a roll to get back on his feet before Song Jiu could recover. He kicked the door shut tightly to block the guards outside while simultaneously rolling on the ground in a difficult maneuver to get close to Song Jiu. With one hand, he twisted Song Jiu's arm behind his back and with the other hand swung a punch hard into Song Jiu's armpit. With a thud, he brought down the aggressive Song Jiu.
The concrete floor was nothing like the yacht deck; as Song Jiu fell face down, he was momentarily stunned. Wu Wentao seized the opportunity to mount him, pressing his knee against Song Jiu's neck to keep him pinned down. He deftly kicked away the Steel Saw Blade beside him, pulled off his belt in two or three swift motions, and bound Song Jiu's struggling hands.
Just then, there was a soft creak as the door that had just closed opened again.
Before Wu Wentao could shout a warning in anger, the lights flickered on.
Yang Xiaomeng stood at the doorway, one hand still raised as if to turn on the light. Upon seeing the scene before her, she froze in shock and panic.
"You... you two!" Yang Xiaomeng stammered, her face pale as she took two steps back outside.
"Shut the door!" Wu Wentao's forehead throbbed with veins; it would be easy to kill Song Jiu but keeping him subdued was another matter entirely. The noise from Song Jiu's struggles was anything but quiet.
"Oh my God." Yang Xiaomeng snapped back to reality at Old Wu's furious shout. She jolted but didn’t immediately close the door; instead, she stood there dazed for a moment before screaming, "Someone come! Old Wu is trying to rape Song Jiu!"
"Hah!"
Wu Wentao felt a rush of anger choke him; as he loosened his grip slightly in surprise at her shout, Song Jiu seized the opportunity to twist away and roll free from Wu Wentao’s hold. He kicked out at Wu Wentao’s chest without caring that his hands were still bound behind him, letting out muffled sounds as he stumbled forward.
Yang Xiaomeng sensed that things were going awry and hurriedly rushed over to wrap her arms around Song Jiu, desperately dragging him toward the door while shouting, "Old Wu, I never expected you to be this kind of person, Song Jiu, calm down!"
Wu Wentao ground his teeth in frustration. Seeing the shadows gathering outside the door and Song Jiu still in a frenzied state, his anger surged. He picked up a Steel Saw Blade, flipped it over, and swung it toward Song Jiu's neck. Yang Xiaomeng was too busy shouting to notice Wu Wentao's movement. Suddenly feeling the weight of the person she was holding shift, she looked back to see Wu Wentao had discarded the saw blade and was now yanking on Song Jiu's collar.
Yang Xiaomeng's scalp tingled as she stood there in shock; Wu Wentao had lost his mind and seemed intent on doing something terrible.
Just as she was about to step forward, a sudden force pushed her into the room. Before she could turn around to see what was happening, the door slammed shut with a loud bang.
"Let him go!"
Luo Yu whispered urgently as he snatched Song Jiu from Yang Xiaomeng's grasp. Wu Wentao quickly stepped forward as well, and together they managed to subdue Song Jiu. Noticing that his head hung low and he had gone silent, they both checked for signs of breathing and finally let out a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the edge of the bed in exhaustion.
Yang Xiaomeng stood frozen at the door, glancing left and right, speechless.
"Hush." Luo Yu remained somewhat composed, catching his breath and signaling Yang Xiaomeng to be quiet and not move.
Yang Xiaomeng's expression shifted between confusion and concern; she was utterly bewildered by the rapid turn of events.
"Don't ask anything, don't say anything," Luo Yu exchanged glances with her and helped Wu Wentao lay Song Jiu on the bed. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took a deep breath and approached the door, gently opening it just a crack.
Dai Wei and Chef Jia stood outside, their expressions filled with concern. Behind them were two guards whose eyes were uncertain as they tried to push their way in but were blocked by Cao Zheng.
"It's fine; you all should head back," Luo Yu steadied himself and forced a strained smile. "Xiao Meng is just being silly." He exchanged a knowing look with Chef Jia.
Chef Jia paused for a moment before understanding what was happening. He quickly chuckled lightly, "Did he drink again? Just tell them to stop messing around; they've been working hard for days. They should get some rest."
"Alright, I understand. Sister Jia, do you have any hangover medicine? Please get me some." Luo Yu continued the conversation with Chef Jia for a moment, and seeing the two guards turn away with displeasure, he finally felt a bit more at ease.
Chef Jia patted Dai Wei and Cao Zheng, whispering something to them, sending the curious Pockmarked Girl and her companions back. Inside the room, Luo Yu nodded and turned to close the door.
In the cramped room, silence reigned, broken only by the sound of a pin dropping. Hesitant and anxious glances darted among the three of them, ultimately settling on Song Jiu.
After a long pause, Wu Wentao stubbed out his cigarette, exhaling deeply. "Go find Song Yao. We can't wait any longer."
"I'll go. You keep an eye on him." Luo Yu's expression turned serious as he nodded and looked at Yang Xiaomeng, who appeared confused and still lost in thought.
"Xiao Meng, you and Old Wu watch over Jiu Jiu." Luo Yu walked over and patted his shoulder. After some contemplation, he whispered, " Jiu Jiu is sick."
"Sick?" Yang Xiaomeng repeated several times, suddenly recalling what had happened at sea last night. He exclaimed in shock, "Last night too?"
Luo Yu's expression grew somber as he gently nodded.
Seeing the dejected looks on Luo Yu and Wu Wentao's faces, along with the earlier confrontation with Song Jiu, Yang Xiaomeng realized that things might be serious. Recalling his earlier careless words, he felt embarrassed and flushed. "How could this happen? What can I do?"
"We can't do anything," Luo Yu sighed, lightly tracing the red mark on Wu Wentao's back from where he had been struck. His tone was filled with helplessness. "Take good care of him; I'm going to find Sister Yao."
As he spoke, there was a knock at the door. Luo Yu opened it to find Chef Jia stepping inside. Her gaze swept over the people in the room as she conveyed a questioning look.
"Old Wu, you talk to Sister Jia. There's no time to waste; I'm leaving now." Luo Yu let Chef Jia in and turned to exit the room.
Living Area, residential building.
The soft light illuminated the living room, and the aroma of delicious food mixed with laughter drifted out of the window, fading into the depths of the dark night.
Four young women sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, their gazes dreamy and their faces flushed. Judging by their expressions, they had already shed tears several times.
On the tea table lay a number of empty bottles, scattered haphazardly. A young man cautiously stepped over the sofa, clearing away the messy plates before heading to the kitchen to prepare some snacks. He was well aware of the relationships among the girls sitting on the carpet; he had heard Tan murmur about them countless times. Seeing that Ladies had drunk quite a bit and that the conversation was growing heavier, he took the initiative to stand up and leave, allowing them some privacy.
Watching his retreating figure, Luci felt a little less sorrowful. She affectionately pulled Tan close and teased, “Our little girl has good taste.”
Tan, who couldn’t hold her liquor well, had turned rosy after just a few drinks. With two cute dimples on her cheeks, she smiled sweetly and replied, “I’m a big girl now too.”
“Indeed! I heard you’re almost a mom!” Song Yao sat up as well, joining in on the teasing. The tear stains at the corners of her eyes hadn’t dried yet; her smile seemed more like a forced grin.
Only Zeng Yadong remained silent, resting her chin on her hands with a gentle smile as she quietly observed the three of them. Her mind was filled with countless thoughts, familiar yet distant figures constantly flickering before her eyes.
Reuniting with old friends undoubtedly brought immense joy; however, times had changed. This long-awaited gathering was not just about happiness but also sorrow. Over the years, Zeng Yadong had imagined this scene more than once, yet when it finally materialized, it felt so bittersweet.
She even thought that rather than sitting together with the few remaining people to reminisce about the past, it might be better for everyone to remain apart. At least in her heart, those people were still alive—alive in memories and hopes.
In the past, when she occasionally spoke of her former companions, Zeng Yadong often had to count on her fingers to ensure she didn’t forget anyone. Now it was different; she no longer needed to recite their names one by one. The companions who once fought alongside her could now be counted on one hand—all right before her.
After a long while, Zeng Yadong sighed softly and said, “When Us return to Land, I want to see everyone.”
“I want to go too,” Tan said with a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“Mm.” Song Yao nodded. The bitterness in her heart was unspeakable; at least Xiao Jin and Ginger River could be considered part of Fallen Leaves Return to the Soil. But what about the others? Where were Xiao Wei, graduate student Chao Yifan, and their remains?
Luci cleared her throat lightly. Just by looking at Song Yao’s expression, she could guess what was on her mind. However, at such a moment, some things were better left unsaid; speaking them would only add to their sorrow. Regardless, being able to see those who were still alive was already a blessing from heaven; it wouldn’t be wise to torment themselves further.
"After returning to Land, we should drag Ming Ge back," Luci said with a light laugh, pretending to be relaxed. "Who knows where he is now, lost in drunken dreams."
"Exactly, he's already on the pirate ship; how can we let him leave just like that?" Song Yao chimed in, smiling. "I bet he's still at the Roundabout. He once mentioned wanting to be a gravekeeper for the latter half of his life."
"He?" Zeng Yadong chuckled at this, laughing for a while before saying, "It would be strange if he could actually settle down like that."
"True enough," Song Yao acknowledged, understanding the implication. She laughed for a moment before sighing, "But then again, it might not be so certain. Back then, Ginger River and Yifan were around to stir things up."
Tan perked up with a mischievous grin. "You all keep talking; I'll tell Ming Ge on you."
Luci waved her fist playfully and affectionately pinched the girl's cheek. "Careful who you team up with, little girl. We might just report you to your man first."
The playful banter lightened the somber atmosphere significantly, and the lights in the living room seemed to shine a bit brighter. The young man sitting in the study shook his head with a wry smile, feeling helpless in front of these Little Women who had emerged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Outside, the night was deepening, and the sound of distant waves echoed. The quiet expanse of Palm Avenue was pierced by bright headlights speeding through the darkness.
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