Fine white fingers tensed tight, clutching at the bedsheets beneath.
Rumpling them with suggestive folds.
Time passed by minute by minute.
A bright moon was gradually devoured, and far off in the sky, dark clouds seemed to spread ominously, like approaching ghouls, baring fangs and claws.
Outside, a gentle wind began to blow, but its sound seemed to merge with the man’s heavy breathing inside the cabin, blurring the distinction.
Wen Xian felt as if she were trapped in a mist of oblivion, struggling to breathe, her heartbeat racing exceedingly fast, the damp hair at her temples soaked with sweat, strands sticking to her cheeks, exuding a debased dejection that was captivating like poppy flowers, deeply addictive.
Yet she indulged in it, unable to extricate herself.
The sky gradually darkened, and the fierce wind battered against the door panels. The howling wind in her ears and the changing weather in the mountains gradually filled her with fear, afraid that the wind would tear her and the small cabin into pieces.
But in the end, the sturdy cabin withstood, no matter how fiercely the wind blew or how violently the door shook, the cabin stubbornly endured it all.
Finally, when the cold wind passed, and everything settled down, she gradually detached herself from that frayed fear.
She fell asleep, drenched, her body heavy, fingers without the strength to lift.
Just that, she didn’t know whether she was dreaming; in her drowsy state, weighed down by exhaustion as she was about to sink into deep slumber, she seemed to hear his extremely hoarse voice whispering in her ear:
“Wen Xian, let’s have a child…”
When Wen Xian suddenly awoke from her dream the next day,
it was not completely light yet. She drew back the curtains slightly, and outside was the dawn.
And her side was already empty.
Her hand rested on the spot where he had slept; there seemed to still be some of his warmth left, along with the fresh scent lingering from his body.
She gently caressed it, and deep in her eyes, something seemed to flicker slightly.
Ultimately, after who knows how long, she sniffed her somewhat acidic nose and got up.
She prayed to God to protect her man’s life because he was fighting not only for himself but for many more lives as well.
Wen Xian did not return to sleep; even though it was still early, she simply wasn’t in the mood at that moment.
Instead, she picked up a book to calm her mind, nestling on the lounger in the small attic, covered with a blanket, a small table beside her with a lamp lit, slowly turning the pages, one by one.
Time dripped away slowly; everything around her seemed very peaceful. Yet unbeknownst to her, a small drone zipped through the sky above, passing by where she was. Then, as if something had happened, it gradually returned.
Hovering over the small cabin.
Daylight came, and it seemed everyone was preparing for the noon meeting.
But just as Li Tingze and the others were about to go somewhere, suddenly, one of Mr. Wu’s subordinates received a message and hurried over, quickly saying to him:
“Brother Wu, Brother Wu, big news, big news has come!”
He said, hastily whispering something into his ear.
Mr. Wu had thought that nothing important could happen at this critical moment, but on hearing his subordinate’s words, he suddenly froze all over.