After the body had been laid out for three days, Yu Zhen buried Grandpa Yu with the help of the village cadres of Lotus Gully Village.

The funeral ended before lunch. Yu Zhen treated the village cadres to a meal at the village's small restaurant, bought a carton of good cigarettes to distribute to the pallbearers he had hired, and then said goodbye to everyone, walking alone towards the Taoist Temple with a deathly pale face.

The oldest village director watched his gaunt figure gradually recede, sighed, and shook his head, saying, "He's quite pitiful. The New Year is just around the corner, but Old Man Yu... sigh. Let's set aside a portion of the New Year's subsidy for him later. Although we don't interact much usually, he is one of our Lotus Gully Village people after all."

"But now Yu Zhen is the only one left in the Yu family, and the Taoist Temple is so remote and dilapidated. Will he stay at the Taoist Temple for the New Year?" the cadre in charge of distributing the subsidies reminded.

The village director furrowed his brows upon hearing this, thought for a moment, then sighed again and waved his hand, saying, "Then set it aside for now. When the New Year comes, I'll go over there personally. If he's not there, then forget about the subsidy."

Although Qingxu Temple belonged to Lotus Gully Village, it was quite a distance from the village. The road leading out was separate and not connected to the village roads. Unless they intentionally took a detour, Yu Zhen and his grandfather rarely ran into the villagers of Lotus Gully Village.

Yu Zhen was a bit slow as a child and only started forming clear memories in elementary school. Grandpa Yu was afraid he would be bullied at the village elementary school, so he paid for him to attend a strict boarding elementary school in town. After that, he went through boarding middle school and boarding high school, having almost no interaction with the people of Lotus Gully Village.

All along the road were unfamiliar faces. Yu Zhen knew these villagers were secretly sizing him up, whispering about some old gossip, but he didn't have the energy to pay attention to any of it.

So cold. It was clearly a bright, sunny day after a heavy snow, and he had even worn a few more layers than usual, but he was still cold.

His hands in his pockets were ice-cold, his legs were stiff and numb, a chill ran down his back, and even his brain seemed to have frozen, unable to function properly.

Am I sick?

He pressed his lips together, discovering that they had already gone numb, and hurriedly quickened his pace back to the Taoist Temple.

He went around the houses, crossed the farmland, climbed a small slope, and turned onto the dirt path leading into the forest. His pace grew faster and faster, until he was almost running as he burst into the Taoist Temple. He found the thermos in the corner and poured out a large cup of boiling water, chugging it down in one gulp without feeling the heat at all.

The warmth spread from his throat down to his stomach, and his limbs seemed to warm up a little. He let out a long breath, looked at the black-and-white funeral portrait hanging in the hall, and stared blankly for a long time, then gave an ugly smile.

"Grandpa, I'm so cold."

The hall was silent. The familiar nagging voice would never be heard again.

He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes hard. Seeing it was getting late, he put down the cup and started packing his things.

He had originally returned this time to persuade his grandfather to go with him to the provincial capital for the New Year. For this, he had even specially rented a new two-bedroom apartment, wanting his grandfather to live more comfortably. But he never expected that upon his return, he would be greeted by a coffin placed in the hall and the old man lying within it, his body heat gradually fading.

As if he knew he was coming back, the old man had timed it perfectly, getting himself ready, and then breathed his last the moment he pushed open the temple gate.

...He didn't even get to see him one last time.

His movement to close the suitcase paused. He tilted his head back, took a deep breath to suppress his tears, and then closed the suitcase. As he was about to leave, his gaze swept over the brazier in the corner. He stopped, put down the suitcase, and turned back.

The paper ash in the basin was piled high. He reached in and rummaged around, turning up a small, round ball covered in black ash, but which had resiliently kept its shape. He rolled it between his fingers, looked at it, and suddenly smiled.

"It's not plastic."

Plastic wouldn't be this fire-resistant.

He stuffed the ball into his pocket, picked up his suitcase again, and left the dilapidated little Taoist Temple without a backward glance.

When passing the scene of that day's accident, he glanced sideways at the broken tree branches by the road and the messily trampled snow. He found that his brain seemed to be frozen again; he actually couldn't recall the male patient's appearance anymore, and couldn't help but frown.

Am I really sick?

He thumped his head, continued walking forward, and pulled up his scarf to cover the lower half of his face.

I should find some time to go to the hospital. Otherwise, Grandpa would worry and nag again.

Back in the provincial capital, Yu Zhen first stopped by the nursery to check on his precious flowers, then took a car back to his newly rented small house. After hastily unpacking his luggage, he took a nice hot bath and threw himself onto the bed.

He hadn't closed his eyes for a moment during the past few days of the funeral. By now, he was utterly exhausted. The moment his head touched the pillow, his consciousness sank into darkness.

'Get up.'

'Must you really do this?'

'We were master and disciple, why must you...'

...

'Kill!'

Yu Zhen's eyes snapped open. Drenched in a cold sweat, he sat up in bed and raised a hand to his forehead. It was as cold as a dead person's to the touch. He shivered, quickly got up and rushed into the bathroom, turned on the hot water, and let it run over his head.

It felt like he had a dream, but what was it about?

...He'd forgotten.

The palpitations from the dream slowly faded, and warmth returned to his limbs. In the steam-filled room, he looked at his blurry reflection in the mirror and swallowed.

I really am sick, aren't I.

In the best Grade A Tertiary hospital in the provincial capital, the doctor took the test report from Yu Zhen and examined it carefully. He then sized up Yu Zhen's pale face and the exaggerated dark circles under his eyes, frowned, and said, "The test report is fine. You're just too tired. Go home and get some good rest, eat some good food to nourish your body. Young people shouldn't put too much pressure on themselves. Eat when you should eat, drink when you should drink. Just relax a bit, okay?"

"But doctor, I really don't feel well. I feel cold all over, I have insomnia and vivid dreams, but I can never remember what I dreamt about. My head is always groggy, I..."

"But your test report really does show that there's nothing wrong with your body. That's why I'm saying you're just under too much stress. Get some good rest, eat something nutritious. Alright, next." The doctor waved his hand, cutting him off.

Yu Zhen shut his mouth. Seeing the next patient already walking in with the help of a family member, he paused, then stood up, gathered his test reports, and turned to walk out.

After a heavy snowfall, the temperature in H Province began to rise steadily, and the weather got better day by day.

Yu Zhen walked out of the hospital entrance. The sunlight was warm, yet he still felt his limbs were cold and his mind was sluggish.

Is it really just too much stress?

He thought worriedly, carrying the bag with his test reports and medical records. Seeing the pedestrian light turn green, he quickly took a couple of steps forward, preparing to cross the road to the bus stop on the other side to catch a bus to the nursery.

It was clearly the entrance to a busy hospital, yet Yu Zhen was the only one crossing the street this time. The crosswalk was empty, and even the number of vehicles waiting on both sides seemed unnaturally low.

"Stop."

A deep, cool voice suddenly sounded by his ear, sounding somewhat familiar.

Yu Zhen was stunned for a moment and looked behind him, but found nothing. He frowned in confusion, but his feet never stopped moving.

"Don't go any further."

The voice sounded again, this time as if it were directly in his mind. Yu Zhen stopped abruptly, realizing that as the words echoed in his head, his perpetually cold limbs had actually warmed up a little.

What's going on?

He raised a hand to his forehead. Seeing the green light was about to end, he lifted his leg, about to continue forward. Suddenly, a gust of wind like a hurricane blew past in front of him. A sapphire-blue sports car whizzed by, almost brushing against his body, then came to a stop by the side of the road with an arrogant fishtail, kicking up a cloud of dust.

'Tweet! Tweet! Tweet!'

The traffic police officer on duty by the road blew his whistle furiously, striding towards the sports car that had run a red light and parked illegally, while waving at Yu Zhen to hurry across the street, as the green light was about to end.

Yu Zhen recovered from his shock, quickly walked a few steps across the crosswalk, and stopped by the roadside, pressing a hand to his chest with lingering fear.

That was close, so close. If he hadn't stopped just now, at the speed of that sports car, he would have definitely been hit and sent to be reunited with his grandfather.

Over there, the police officer was loudly saying something to the sports car driver who was still in the car. The once-empty sides of the crosswalk were now, at some point, crowded with people again. Yu Zhen was bumped by an uncle in a hurry. As his body shifted, his gaze inadvertently swept across the road, where he saw a handsome man in a patient's gown staring intently at him. His heart jumped. Just as he was about to take a closer look, the pedestrian light turned red, the waiting vehicles on both sides started moving, and a bus drove by, blocking his view.

When the flow of traffic had passed and he looked closely again, the figure of the handsome man in the patient's gown was nowhere to be seen.

Was it another illusion?

He frowned slightly, glancing sideways at the sapphire-blue sports car that was now parking in the corner as directed by the traffic police. He realized that the car's model was identical to the red sports car from the accident a few days ago. Remembering the sight of all that blood from that day, he suddenly started to panic. He hailed a taxi and got in.

"To Jinxiu Community."

"You got it!"

The taxi started. Yu Zhen leaned against the car door, looking outside. In the receding scenery, he could vaguely make out a tall man stepping out of the sapphire-blue sports car, with a faint red mist drifting around his body. He frowned, raised his hand to tug at his scarf, and turned his head back.

Maybe I should get some proper rest.

"Brother!"

Yin Le rushed forward to support the staggering Yin Yan. While taking off his own jacket and draping it over him, he said with reddened eyes, "So what if Wu Xuan is coming to pick up Han Ya? What's the use of you rushing out like this! Brother, please wake up. Han Ya almost got you killed this time. Can't you like someone else? I'm begging you, brother."

"Alright."

Yin Le was taken aback. He looked up at his older brother, who had become very quiet since the accident, and asked dumbly, "Brother, what did you say?"

"Xiao... Le."

A deep, cool voice, a slightly strange intonation. The man called Yin Yan finally withdrew his gaze from the road. He tilted his head slightly, and his pale, handsome face bathed in the sunlight seemed to have gained an inviolable air that warned mortals to keep their distance.

"Xiao Le." His intonation went from awkward to natural, but his voice still carried a cool undertone it never had before. He asked, "What is your wish?"

"Brother, what's wrong with you?"

Yin Le looked at the overly calm expression on his face and his almost emotionless eyes, couldn't help but grip his arm tightly, a sudden panic rising in his heart.

His brother was so different now. He no longer wore his emotions on his sleeve, and he was speaking strangely. He... he was a little scared.

Sensing the change in his emotions, Yin Yan lowered his eyes slightly and didn't continue the topic. He turned and let himself be supported back towards the hospital, shaking his head and saying, "It is nothing."

After speaking, he remembered the local way of talking and added, "I'm fine. Let's go, it's time for the check-up."

Yin Le was passively led forward a few steps by him. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Wu Xuan striding into the hospital. Alarm bells rang in his mind, and he had no more capacity to think about other things. He clumsily changed the subject in a poor attempt to cover up and supported him towards the hospital entrance.