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墨書 Inktalez
Ultimately, as a former Field Captain, the forest paths posed no obstacles for him. Without much effort, he caught up with the two fools rushing toward their doom.
The man moved like the wind, appearing suddenly and leaving just as abruptly, striking once and vanishing without hesitation. The gap between professionals and amateurs was insurmountable; despite Song Jiu and Cao Zheng's desperate pursuit, they couldn't even catch a glimpse of the tail end of the opposing force. The crushed leaves in the forest revealed traces of their passage, yet in the silent woods, not a single figure could be found.
Wu Wentao leaped over a decaying tree trunk and saw that the two had stopped. Finally feeling relieved, he plopped down onto the ground covered in rotten leaves, staring at their panting backs with a bemused smile.
"Why aren’t you chasing them anymore?"
"Really gutsy, huh? One gun, one crossbow—what were you two thinking? Planning to kill a hundred people for revenge?"
"Keep chasing! Show me how you plan to kill them!"
"What the hell were you doing earlier?"
Leaning against the tree trunk, Wu Wentao wore a grim smile, showing no mercy as he mocked them. The two men fell silent, panting for a moment before both knelt down on the ground. Wu Wentao sighed deeply and said nothing more; they had already given up. He could feel their despair and helplessness rising from deep within.
In a wild forest, three men sat in silence, slumped together.
The sun was warm, and the sky was clear. Cao Zheng was right; it was indeed a good day with no rain.
At noon, the temperature began to rise. The sea breeze was no longer cool but carried a stifling heat as it wove through the trees. Sunlight poured down through the dense canopy, scattering patches of light that shattered upon the ground and fell upon the three men.
Cao Zheng covered his face and cried silently; Wu Wentao noticed his shoulders shaking as if he were struggling to contain his emotions. Yet sadness had already burst forth like a dam breaking, flooding uncontrollably.
Wu Wentao quietly watched his back, unable to tear his gaze away. Somehow, his nose felt slightly tinged with bitterness.
Beside him, Song Jiu sat with his head down, staring blankly at the dry leaves at his feet, lost in thought.
A long, mournful horn echoed from the Coastal Lighthouse, distant yet close.
Wu Wentao looked toward the lighthouse, propped himself against a withered tree, stood up, and walked behind the two of them, patting their shoulders. "Let's go take a look."
Song Jiu and Cao Zheng looked up in confusion, staggered to their feet, and silently followed Wu Wentao into the woods.
The lighthouse remained the same. The confined space was already filled with a metallic scent of blood, something the three had grown numb to. When they saw Ye Qingmei's body, their gazes only paused for a brief moment. Wu Wentao moved aside the Searchlight and found a telescope beneath the rigid body of the Guard Boy. He raised it to his eyes, revealing the shimmering surface of the sea.
Wu Wentao's expression froze; the image in the scope was something he could never have anticipated.
Anchored in the sea was a massive vessel, its slender Fabric Pole piercing the sky, its weathered hull and spacious deck unmistakably resembling the Engineering Ship they had encountered earlier at sea, laden with Zombies. How could this be? As he shifted his view closer to shore, several Assault Boats were cutting through the Sea Surface, carrying three to five crew members each toward the Engineering Ship. He counted roughly ten boats in total; the leading Assault Boat stood out prominently, its Golden Hair whipped by the sea breeze, reflecting a mesmerizing sheen.
"It really is her," Wu Wentao murmured to himself as he slowly moved the telescope to focus on a familiar figure.
Wu Wentao was completely thrown off balance. From morning until now, his mind was flooded with questions that only multiplied, yet answers remained elusive.
"She took Yuan An," Wu Wentao said as he lowered the telescope and turned to speak to the two beside him.
Cao Zheng ignored him, staring blankly at the swaying Mangrove trees. Song Jiu lifted his eyelids slightly, as if recalling something; his lips moved but no words came out.
Wu Wentao sighed with closed eyes. He understood how they felt at that moment but had no intention of sinking into despair alongside them. The incident had been sudden; even now he was still in a fog. There was too much left to do; he simply couldn't spare time to grieve with them. Some truths were too harsh to voice, but reality was evident: if heartbreak were useful, then death would hold no meaning.
Wu Wentao turned toward the Ladder. Before descending, he tossed them a parting remark: "I have two suggestions for you: one, jump out of the window; two, come back with me."
At noon, eight minutes past twelve, the wedding was set to begin, but the fire at the Stilt House had finally been extinguished.
The drinking water meant for the banquet had all been thrown into the flames, the wedding room that should have been filled with warmth and happiness had turned to decaying dust, and the guests who were supposed to be laughing and seated had become nothing but charred remains scattered across the ground.
With the fire out, thick smoke still lingered.
Fang Fei organized the surviving Islanders to recover bodies from the scene of destruction. The area in front of the Stilt House was a disaster zone; the wedding procession had been completely wiped out, with not a single survivor. Song Jiu and others joined in, personally moving one scorched body after another to Saddle Vine Path. From a distance, it appeared as though the path was almost covered with corpses.
A day meant for celebration had turned into a day of mourning; a joyous feast had become a funeral banquet. No one had anticipated this turn of events, and everyone was left in confusion and despair.
In such a life-and-death situation, there was no time to think too much; only after the crisis could they begin to lick their wounds. Even if they couldn't face it, they had to confront it.
The exact number of people in the wedding procession was unclear. Fang Fei compiled a casualty list based on the island's resident registry. The bodies in front of the Stilt House were numerous, and when combined with those from Island Kitchen, there were a total of one hundred and three dead, with men making up one-third of that number. This count only included those listed; they also found Dr. Zhong's body.
Dr. Zhong was supposed to assist Cao Zheng in playing the wedding music on the yacht. However, when the pyrotechnician failed to arrive on time, Dr. Zhong had to fill in at the last minute. Later, as the atmosphere grew more festive, he joined in with the crowd but was unable to keep up due to his poor physical condition. Thus, he became one of the first casualties during the attack.
The Stilt House had collapsed; its wooden stairs were nearly reduced to ashes. The charred beams crumbled at a touch, leaving a ground covered in ash mixed with an unbearable stench of burnt flesh. Many bodies near the Stilt House had also been incinerated beyond recognition. The interior layout of the Stilt House had changed drastically after its collapse; clearing away debris revealed where the wedding room once stood.
There lay three bodies, severely carbonized—two were intertwined in a lying position, indistinguishable from one another; another lay curled up not far away, resembling a newborn baby.
Song Jiu stood before the bodies, holding a shroud that felt as heavy as lead, his arms hanging limply at his sides, unable to lift it. Wu Wentao took the shroud from him and carefully covered one of the bodies. He nearly dragged Song Jiu away from the scene. Before leaving, Song Jiu caught sight of Luo Yu among the crowd; she leaned against Dai Wei’s embrace, tears streaming down her face as she silently sobbed.
The lighthouse brought back two bodies: one belonged to a guard and the other to Ye Qingmei. Fang Fei could hardly believe that Ye Qingmei would appear on the death list. He stood frozen for a long time before Little Leaf's already pale face; meanwhile, bodies from near the boat whistle and rocks had disappeared—likely washed away by the sea. However, on the yacht side, one body had been washed ashore by the waves—it was Jasmine. Her tattooed patterns confirmed her identity.
Jasmine bore no fatal wounds but had signs of blunt force trauma at her skull; it seemed she had been knocked unconscious and then thrown into the sea to drown.
Counting the casualties was a test of endurance. They had been busy until two-thirty in the afternoon, and most people had already matched the names to the faces.
Fang Fei dropped the roster and collapsed onto the table, weeping uncontrollably. Among the living, there was no Jin Bo, and among the identifiable bodies, there was also no Jin Bo. Faced with the charred remains, Fang Fei broke down. When she and Song Yao left the Stilt House, Jin Bo had been at the forefront as the leader of the welcoming party. Calculating the time, Jin Bo was still among the crowd when the attack occurred.
Song Yao and Luci exchanged silent glances, feeling as if they were in a dream.
Jin Bo, the one who could slay gods and buddhas alike, had quietly perished in the gunfire.
The air raid shelter hadn't trapped him; the Gobi Desert hadn't contained him; an uninhabited island hadn't held him back—yet he was ultimately blocked from returning to life.
Song Yao had once imagined that if one day Jin Bo reached the end of his life, it would be amidst thunderous clashes, with long knives flashing across a blood-soaked battlefield. Even in death, he would stand proudly against heaven and earth, his familiar defiant spirit shining through his eyes. That should have been his conclusion.
But reality was different; it was clear and bright, firecrackers rang out, his long knife still hung in his room, and his body was unrecognizable.
Song Yao felt a heaviness in her chest, as if she were hearing phantom echoes of what Jin Bo had said to her before they landed on the island.
He had said, "Let's go find Dongdong."
The next day, in the mountains, at the cemetery.
New graves were added; Lin Ye swayed gently in the breeze, while the sea wind blew silently.
The bride and groom were buried together. Qianqian, Dr. Zhong, Ye Qingmei, and Jasmine—four bodies were laid to rest side by side with Ziqian and Doudou. The other bodies that hadn’t been burned were identified one by one before being buried. As for those charred remains at the entrance that were impossible to identify and had fused together from burning, they could only be dug up and buried in a pit together.
The tombstone was large; Jin Bo's name was inscribed first, followed by those of unidentified Islanders. Jin Bo held no emotional ties to these people; among them might even be so-called Rebels. But what did it matter? Dust returns to dust; what existed above would vanish below.
In the slanting afternoon sun, dusk settled in.
A large group of people stood in silence, their sobs mingling with the gentle breeze, drifting softly into the sky.
Song Jiu and Luo Yu stood side by side, their gazes lost in thought.
Yang Xiaomeng walked over from behind and handed a wedding dress portrait to Song Jiu. After a moment of hesitation, she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, "Keep it."
Song Jiu took the portrait, staring at the two figures that seemed so alive. Tears welled up in her eyes once more. Beside her, Luo Yu, who had already cried dry, broke down again in sorrow.
Yuan An's painting skills were remarkable; the subjects were vividly portrayed. Through the strokes of the brush, Song Jiu could almost hear Jiao Ziqian calling out " Brother Jiu," and Ying Dou Dou softly whispering "Ziqian."
Song Jiu sniffed back her tears, the traces of sorrow etched on her slightly upturned lips. She pulled out a lighter and ignited it, the flickering flame catching the paper. The inscription "May we be united forever and grow old together" was consumed by the fire.
Releasing her grip, the paper floated gently in the wind. In the glow of the flames, Jiao Ziqian and Ying Dou Dou exchanged smiles. After a brief burst of brightness, ashes scattered into the air.
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