Story Reader / Interlude / Dream of the Past / Story
The minimalist tavern Changyu chose is a little ragged but well-supplied. With the token he stole, Changyu has no trouble getting into a place of this caliber to rent a room. A simple one, to avoid attention.
Right now, he is sitting by the bed cross-legged, listening to the singing outside. The antique television in the room is playing movies of generations past, and the moonlight has tainted Changyu's shadow blue.
Someone opens the door to the room.
I'm back. Which one do you want, Shacha noodles or wonton noodles?
Wonton noodles!
That's what Uncle Fu thought, so it comes with extra sauce. Here.
Uncle Fu is the best! I'm so blessed.
Changyu squeals with delight, snatching the takeout box Huainan hands him.
Hey, let me try your Shacha noodles as well.
Slurp—h-hot, hot...
What's the rush...
Gulp—
Huainan, this is some hardcore stuff! Huff—water, I need water...
But I only added a teaspoon of chili sauce... Here, your water.
Gobble—
Changyu does not stop until his bowl is completely empty. He lets out a satisfying burp.
Hey, Huainan... Shall we play a game?
What game?
Let's see... Tell me your biggest wish in five seconds!
Now, I wish tomorrow was the Dragon Boat Festival, then we could go get rice dumplings at Uncle Fu's. His dumplings are the absolute best in the world! You haven't really lived until you've tried one.
That's it?
Sure. I mean, I also hope that everything goes well tomorrow night at the Trade Fair... But I can't really see things going wrong when I'm involved.
Sometimes I wonder where you got your damn confidence... But I'd be lying if I say you aren't good at this.
I'm not joking!
Don't you notice? Whether it's those rich assholes or those exploitative merchants... Bad people always come with bad karma.
I've seen so many of them on this shitty boat—stinking, corrupted trash that poisons the place and hurts everyone around them. But karma is karma—when I come collecting, the gods will be on my side.
Then all it takes is a bit of planning, a little bit of luck. Everything goes my way.
I'm no hero, but even I can't stand these bullies. And if good people can't do anything about it, maybe it takes a bad guy like me to take out the trash. That I can live by.
That's why this is going to work.
...Because Akdilek hurt you, didn't they?
I will never forgive anyone who hurt my friends.
Changyu's voice gets quieter and quieter until he turns silent and withholds the last line. Huainan raises his brows.
What?
Your turn. What do you wish for?
I wish...
I wish that it all goes well at the Trade Fair tomorrow.
That's my wish!
You wished for rice dumplings tomorrow.
Hey!
Changyu is about to protest, but then he suddenly bursts out laughing.
Oh my, it's been a while since I eat noodles with someone else face-to-face, like some sort of celebration.
You made it sound like we just had our last meals...
Knock on wood! Shut it—that mouth hole of yours gonna take away our luck!
The gods are already on our side. Why else do you think my T-193 affinity matches the trade requirement? Just make sure you have my back outside the venue when things kick off.
...Fine. If only my affinity also matches.
It's all going to work out. Don't worry!
Oh, great vibe on the deck today! Listen...
～Thoughts unrequited, tugged like graying strands unkempt～
～Dancing phantoms, for whom is left the ruth and woe～
～Dying embers, candles waned of wax and weep～
Night arrives outside their windowpane. The bustling streets mimic the flickering neon above, and in the space between them, a dream-like sequence of light and shadow plays out on the tavern wall.
Laughter and cries can be heard in the distance where sky lanterns take to the sky. Through their window, the Nighter is nothing but an extravagant show of shadow puppetry, unreal and untethered.
Changyu... I want to ask you something. Be honest with me.
Shoot. Unless you're asking for the password of my bank account.
...Do you have a bank account?
Fine! You got me. No, I don't.
Alright, what's the question?
Have you heard of the "Butterfly Dream"?
Hmm... I think so. Some guy named Zhuangzi dreamt of a butterfly, and he couldn't figure out if it had been him who'd dreamed of it, or if it had been the butterfly who'd dreamed of him.
Let's say—hypothetically—this world you're living in was an illusion. Would you want to escape it?
Why am I not surprised you'd ask something like that?
But for me... All that matters is what's here and now.
Not that I can't tell how much you're skeptical of this boat...
Well, what does it matter if it's real or not? Isn't being happy enough?
Because it's not what you're feeling, but the feeling itself, that makes a thing authentic.
There's no way we can tell if the world is real as long as we are in it. If we keep second-guessing the ground we walk on every step of the way, we'll never go anywhere.
We don't hope to live—we live with hope. Maybe someday the Punishing Virus will be gone, and we'll all return to the outside world. That's a nice hope to live for, isn't it?
Punishing Virus. Been a while since I've thought about it.
A while, huh?
It's very you, the way you answered it.
Enough about me. How about you?
Huainan does not answer. Lights and shadows mask his face, concealing his thoughts from Changyu.
In the silence, the old movie on the television sounds especially loud.
...You ever had a dream like that?
...I won't allow myself to be stuck in a dream.
And you dare treatin' it other than an illusion.
It's suicide, being trapped in an illusion. What's the point of living if none of it is real?
If you don't wake up, how can you tell what is real, and...
I despise it, your "hope." It's just another lie that distracts us from our suffering. So I'll do what needs to be done if it means waking up from this damn dream.
...What is but a dream?
Is that so...
If... we get to choose...
Changyu blanks out for a moment, then retreats to his smiling self.
Whoa! Didn't take you as a thinker!
Huainan chuckles and shakes his head. He grabs the remote control for the television, and instantly the room is filled with cheerful music.
What did you take me as, then?
Should I remind you how much you screwed up the first time I met you?
Do you have to bring that up?
What, am I wrong?
Changyu grabs the pillow by his side and smacks Huainan with it. The two boys laugh, both at ease as their plan gradually falls into place.
Like a dream.
Huainan! You're going to tell me about yourself after this, right?
...I'll be an open book.
There's no turning back at that point.
