Acacia,
Acacia,
I call it so,
Thus I name it,
Suddenly he spells it in my synapse,
In that instant, within my neural synapses, he spells it out,
Fahrenheit 66,
Sixty-six degrees Fahrenheit,
Rotates in my silent life,
Revolving within my silent life,
Tv blue,
A ghostly luminescence.
This was a song I had heard a very, very long time ago.
Its melody was crisp and distant, imbued with a profound melancholy.
Breaking the lyrics into fragmented, disconnected words, it slowly shifted from a maiden’s slight shyness and faint lament, or perhaps more accurately, a profound indifference, an indifference that settled after the gentlest ripple on still waters.
‘When had I heard this song?’
Lying alone on the bed, it seemed as though they were silently weeping.
Someone muttered resentfully from outside the bedroom door.
‘Yes, I shouldn’t have learned. At least, that’s what I must have thought back then, wasn’t it? I didn’t have my own band. How could a drummer not have a band? Singers and guitarists could perform solo, but a drummer? Few people would want to listen to a drummer banging away alone. I was the same. I wouldn’t specifically seek out a drum performance. Yet, I always felt I could wait for that band meant for me, that all my efforts were for that one moment…’
‘As long as I found my band, I would be the most important person. A rock band could exist without a lead singer; instrumental rock could be purely instrumental, but it would always have a drummer. Drums were power, the spine of music, they were—’
Bang!
The bedroom door burst open.
A dejected youth entered the room, emerging from the living room’s light.
“Dressing as a girl and running off to perform alone! Are you trying to infuriate me to death?!”
The door slammed shut. The youth huddled in the corner of the room, and after a long while, he wiped the corner of his eye and smiled.
He typed words onto his phone screen.
–I’m so happy today! Meeting everyone is the happiest thing in my life!
–In terms of talent, you’re almost at Xia’s level! My goodness, two talented members in one band, I predict that in ten years, we’ll infuriate a whole bunch of roadside bands on NetEase Cloud Music that don’t even have 100,000 followers.
–Idiot little sister! Are Luminous Curve and Yu Guo just some roadside bands?!
–Just kidding. I don’t expect to make a living from this in the future either. Honestly, bands are really hard to keep going. Even if my second grand-uncle throws more money at us, there are still many things that money, or even talent, can’t solve. For example… what if it’s the end of the world one day, and nobody listens to rock anymore? What would we do then? Many things are beyond our control. Studying diligently is the safest route after all…
Was this meant to comfort Senior Jing Lan? He must have been in a slump then. His neurological condition prevented him from finishing his college entrance exams, which indirectly led to a fallout with the band’s former drummer, so it was natural for him to be down for quite a while.
‘Wait a moment, if he hadn’t gotten sick, would I never have gotten together with everyone?’
Thinking this, ‘she’ let out a helpless, bitter laugh.
Who was ‘she’?
A gust of wind swept through.
The scent of dust. Beijing still occasionally experienced dust storms.
Ling Yechen, from the corner, raised his head.
“Who are you?” he asked coldly.
‘Who am I?’
“Indeed, who are you?”
The questioning voice transformed into that of a young girl.
That young girl—
‘Was that ‘me’?’
With a crash, the bedroom door opened again.
“Rest time is over, Knox, come out.”
A blue fluorescent glow emanated from the doorway.
“Turn off the recorder.”
The familiar music faded. All around was an irritating, low rumble.
“…Yes, only 0.5% of… but I must say, this has been… very smooth… Especially this…”
The man’s voice was intermittent.
“What did you say? …Mental strength… defect? Nonsense! If she can still… the ‘Shepherd’s’ work, then… you would… directly suffer a mental breakdown. Now we just need to repeat, to master… Alright, no more talk, time is precious, Knox, come over, same as always, we need to…”
A strong sense of resistance churned within their heart.
‘I don’t want… I don’t want to experience that feeling.’
“Form is not other than emptiness, emptiness is not other than form… All are… illusions. Don’t be too… nothing to fear…”
At the center of the confined and oppressive underground space was an incredibly hideous, repulsive humanoid monster.
‘I don’t want to turn into a pile of rotten flesh.’
“You will always be just yourself. All changes will only make you more of yourself.”
Only this sentence was perfectly clear.
“Alright, let’s begin.”
Their vision turned a vivid crimson.
“Ah!!!”
The young girl screamed.
“Bear with it! You still have pain sensation, which precisely proves you are a qualified product. You should be happy!”
“I am a qualified product.”
‘I am a qualified product.’
“Who are you?”
‘Me? I am…’
“You are not.”
‘Hmm, I am Ling Yechen.’
“You are a thief.”
‘I am not a thief!’
“You stole my ‘me’, you stole me! The ‘me’ I gained through a life worse than death!”
“Give ‘me’ back to me!”
‘Give you what?!!!’
“Everything!!!”
The colossal monster roared, lunging at Ling Yechen.
“Ahhhhhh!!!”
****
“You scared the living daylights out of me!”
Doctor Lei, the ophthalmologist, nearly jumped off his stool in fright.
Little Ye quickly bowed her head in apology. “I’m sorry! I fell asleep and had a nightmare just now!”
Doctor Lei immediately reverted to his languid demeanor, continuing to hold his flashlight and read “Story Digest” on the table.
It seemed he had been encountering many people having nightmares lately.
“Are the lenses still suitable? It’s fine, no rush, and I’m not making money anyway. If you’re too tired, it’s alright to take a nap first.”
“No need.”
Taking off the trial frames, she realized Jing Lan was not by her side, leaving her feeling quite insecure. Even though this body inherently possessed superhuman combat capabilities, at this moment, Little Ye’s heart was filled with an unshakeable, fog-like unease. She had no idea when the next unexpected event would occur.
“If there are no issues, pick a frame. I suggest a smaller one, as your face is already quite small.”
Little Ye chose a pair of red, oval, half-rimmed glasses, which reminded her of Homura Akemi, a character she once cosplayed.
If she dyed her hair black, she might look even more like her.
Yet, she was not an anime character to begin with. When she first started cosplaying, she never had the idea of “permanently becoming someone.”
And, to be fair, she wasn’t truly like Homura Akemi.
Constantly fighting against fate for the sake of a loved one—thinking about it now, breaking down was just a matter of an instant.
Doctor Lei, highly skilled in his profession, ground and assembled the lenses within half an hour.
The new glasses fit perfectly. The clear vision brought a slight sense of security.
“700 degrees of myopia. That’s a bit high,” the doctor droned on. “Remember to play less on your phone… Oh, right, no phones to play with anymore. Then be careful not to read in dimly lit places; that’s even worse for your eyes than playing on your phone.”
Finishing his advice, the doctor switched on his flashlight, and under its seemingly starved glow, he continued to read “Story Digest” with relish.
****
After wandering through several floors of the hospital for a long time, she finally found her two companions in a doctor’s office.
Just as she entered, a doctor stepped out. The hallway was poorly lit, so Little Ye couldn’t discern the doctor’s features or expression, only noticing that he wore a hat.
Upon entering the office, she saw Jing Lan and Kong Cheng each leaning back in a chair, remaining silent.
“What were you two doing just now?” Little Ye asked.
Clearly, the atmosphere here was somewhat off.
“Hmm.” Kong Cheng grunted, ultimately choosing not to answer.
“Got your glasses? Hmm, they look quite cute on you.” Jing Lan switched on a miniature floodlight, illuminating the room.
“Nothing much just now,” Jing Lan said, his voice as low and steady as ever, like a clearly audible soliloquy. “We had one last discussion about the possibility of rescuing that police officer, but without any results.”
Noticing Little Ye’s slightly indignant expression, he likely realized that leaving her alone had made her a bit frustrated.
“I’m sorry, I thought it would take longer. And didn’t I ask you earlier if you wanted me to accompany you to get your glasses… you shook your head.”
Had that happened? She didn’t remember at all.
A sudden numbness seized Little Ye’s heart. The nightmare from earlier resurfaced vividly.
‘Does this body truly belong to me?’
In fact, it wasn’t just that; many things seemed to defy close examination.
From her current predicament to her future plans.
Her original body had already been buried underground by Jing Lan, fed to maggots.
If her current body had another owner, and that owner returned, what then?
Little Ye dared not delve further into such thoughts.
“You seem to be in a very bad state.”
Indeed. The moment she saw the “Night Devil” earlier, something dormant in the deep sea of her memories, a complex compound, had churned and floated to the surface.
A fear, pure as a hormonal rush, seemed to bypass thought entirely, almost causing her to lose herself.
Jing Lan sighed silently. “You should get some proper rest. It feels like you’ve been through a lot.”
He had always been like this, substituting a long, silent breath for a sigh to avoid being noticed by others.
“Regardless, contacting a new survivor camp is always a good thing. Tomorrow morning, we can try to bring a doctor over… The doctor from earlier is willing to go help people.”
Jing Lan idly flipped through a copy of “The ICU Pocket Book” by Freundel on the table.
It seemed this was the only path forward for now. The group got up to find some blankets, intending to rest there on the spot.
****
People generally don’t realize when they fall asleep. After all, consciously trying to fall asleep often leads to insomnia.
This time, however, was an exception; she clearly felt her vision and hearing gradually blur, her entire being plunging into a sea of black, suspended in a void.
Some phantom images drifted by, like a revolving lantern—they were experiences from an alternate timeline where no anomaly had occurred: she gritted her teeth, continued her studies, made it through the college entrance exams, got into a 985 aerospace university, and everything went smoothly! She began to enjoy a wonderful life…
‘Would I truly prefer that life where nothing eventful happened?’
Once she started pondering this question, a headache ensued—a physical reaction that had plagued her for a long time, as she greatly feared unexpected, uncontrollable events. Things like sudden changes in exam results, parents suddenly losing their temper, or even just abruptly appearing dark clouds.
If asked what she most wanted to do, it seemed it was simply to lie quietly in bed, enjoying the caress of her blankets.
Hmm, not bad. Depression patients naturally have Morita therapy.
But still… she had been so happy the first time she was on stage…
Gradually, the revolving lantern began to blur; it seemed she was truly falling asleep.
Because she was sleeping so soundly, when a thunderous crash exploded in her mind, she sprang up with a carp-like leap, only to find the surroundings still shrouded in darkness. She had no idea how much time had passed.
She reached out to feel for the flashlight on the table, but found it was gone.
However, she then made an unexpected discovery: her night vision seemed extraordinarily good. Even in the pitch-black space, the outlines of objects were very clear, though the details were a bit fuzzy, somewhat like a preliminary game model.
Yet, she wasn’t surprised for long, as her attention was diverted by another fact: her two companions were not in the room.
The blankets were tossed aside. Had they gone to the restroom together?
Could it be that one of them was afraid of the dark and needed company to go to the bathroom?
Ah, no. It was she who was afraid of the dark.
No one was wandering the hospital corridors anymore; everyone was resting.
Only a security guard was idly shining his flashlight on the “On-Duty Physician” chart on the wall, perhaps staring at the doctors’ photos and recalling various hospital gossips.
“Hello, did you see two people come out of that room?”
The security guard turned around. “About forty minutes ago? Those two came out, went to Doctor Gu’s office to find him, and then they went downstairs. Doctor Gu is an old acquaintance, so I didn’t pay much attention.”
This security guard was indeed quite practiced, the subtext being “I’m not responsible if anything happens.”
“Who is Doctor Gu? What does he look like? Did they say anything?” Little Ye asked a string of questions.
The security guard, however, was quite methodical. “He’s an emergency physician, tall, dark-faced. The three of them didn’t say anything along the way.”
“Tall… were there any more distinguishing features?”
“Distinguishing… a hat. His hair is messy, and he usually likes to wear a hat.”
“This is bad.” Little Ye clasped her hands halfway across her chest, feeling uneasy.
“What’s bad?”
Little Ye didn’t look back and started heading for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” The security guard, perhaps realizing something was amiss, pressed her.
“To the restroom.”
“The restroom is this way!”
The young girl quickened her pace, soon disappearing into the stairwell.