bdsm-fiction Chapter 67 Master, this dish is a bit salty, it's getting in my eyes.
Chapter 67 Master, this dish is a bit salty, it's getting in my eyes.
Biyou Dreamland, the old town's tenement buildings.
After leaving the bizarre and wonderful cultivation high school, the surrounding scenery suddenly changed.
There are no more flying swords, no more tall buildings, and no more of that so-called "perfection".
This is an old neighborhood with a style reminiscent of the 1990s.
The walls were mottled, the electrical wires were tangled like a mess, and the narrow passageway was filled with honeycomb briquettes and jars of homemade pickled vegetables.
The air was filled with a strong smell of cooking oil, the smell of families preparing dinner.
Noisy and crowded, yet filled with a heartwarming sense of human warmth.
"this......"
Wang Ye looked around at his surroundings and paused for a moment:
"This is Old Zhang's dream? How... is it so shabby?"
In his view, a dream should be about being a billionaire or having a harem of wives and concubines, right?
And isn't Zhang Chulan dreaming of losing his virginity?
What's going on?
Su Wuxian stood at the alley entrance, looking at the dimly lit tenement building, his expression becoming somewhat complicated:
"Is it broken?"
"For someone who has been wandering, hiding, and pretending since they were just a few years old..."
"This is paradise."
Su Wuxian waved his hand, signaling Wang Ye and Zhuge Qing to stop:
"You just wait here. What's coming next is not for you to watch."
"That was the last bit of tenderness in his heart."
After saying that, Su Wuxian walked alone into the dimly lit corridor.
......
The innermost room on the third floor.
The door was ajar, and warm yellow light shone from inside.
The television was playing a noisy news broadcast, accompanied by the clanging sound of a spatula hitting a wok while cooking.
Footsteps could be heard in the hallway.
Zhang Chulan was carrying an ordinary backpack.
Wearing faded jeans and carrying two steamed buns, he walked up looking exhausted.
But when he reached the door, he deliberately paused, rubbed his face, and forced out a bright, carefree smile.
"Master! I'm back!"
Zhang Chulan pushed open the door and shouted loudly.
"So what if he's back? Are you trying to summon his soul?"
An old, hoarse voice, yet with a stubborn edge, came from the kitchen:
"Go wash your hands! Dinner will be ready soon! Today we have your favorite twice-cooked pork!"
Zhang Chulan's body stiffened abruptly.
He stood in the entryway, watching the figure emerge from the kitchen carrying a plate.
The old man was not tall, a little hunchbacked, and wearing a tank top. His large ears were particularly noticeable.
His face was covered with wrinkles, marks left by the years and his escape, but at this moment, those wrinkles only held his doting affection for his grandson.
—Zhang Huaiyi.
The culprit who triggered the Jia Shen Rebellion, the Qi Source Flow Enlightened One who died in the wilderness.
She is also the relative Zhang Chulan misses most in this world.
"What are you standing there for? Do you expect me to feed you?"
Zhang Huaiyi put the plate on the table and glared at his grandson:
"Hurry up! This meat will get greasy if it gets cold!"
"Hey! They're here!"
Zhang Chulan sniffed, threw down his backpack, and ran to wash his hands.
The water from the tap was gushing out, and it was icy cold.
Zhang Chulan buried his face in the water and didn't lift it up for a long time.
He was trembling.
"Chu Lan, how's school? Did you get into any trouble?"
Grandpa's nagging voice came from the outer room:
"We, the Zhang family, should keep a low profile and not be competitive. But we shouldn't be afraid of trouble either. If anyone bullies you, you should... you should run back and tell Grandpa."
Zhang Chulan looked up at himself in the mirror, his eyes red and swollen.
He rubbed his face vigorously, put on his usual grinning expression again, and walked out.
"Hey, who do you think I am? I'm the school bully! I'm the only one who bullies others!"
Zhang Chulan plopped down on a small stool, grabbed his chopsticks, and stuffed meat into his mouth.
"Eat slowly! Are you a starving ghost reincarnated?"
Zhang Huaiyi watched his grandson wolf down his food, and although he scolded him, he still put some meat from his own bowl into Zhang Chulan's bowl.
"Eat more, grow strong. Look how skinny you are, how will you ever get married?"
"Getting a wife?"
Zhang Chulan's mouth was full of rice, and he said indistinctly:
"I won't marry her! Women are too much trouble! I'll spend my whole life with you!"
"fart!"
Zhang Huaiyi gave him a chopstick tip:
"How many more years do I have left to live? Once I kick the bucket, who's going to cook for you? Who's going to do your laundry? You little bastard, can't you be a little more sensible?"
"He can live! He definitely can live!"
Zhang Chulan suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with an almost obsessive determination:
"Grandpa, you'll live a very, very long time... to a hundred years old, two hundred years old..."
"You're talking nonsense."
Zhang Huaiyi laughed, his face crinkling with wrinkles.
He picked up his glass, took a sip of the cheap liquor, and sighed:
"As long as you can live a peaceful and ordinary life, Grandpa's life... will have been worthwhile."
Ordinary people.
These three words were like a needle, piercing Zhang Chulan's heart.
He lowered his head and shoveled rice into his mouth.
Tears mixed with rice grains, which I swallowed down.
Salty.
A bit bitter.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
Zhang Huaiyi noticed something was wrong and came over to take a look: "Did you put too much chili? Is it too spicy?"
"No...no..."
Zhang Chulan kept his head down, his shoulders heaving violently.
"It's just... the food is a bit salty today... it's getting in my eyes..."
"Too salty? No way, I didn't add too much salt."
Zhang Huaiyi took a bite, puzzled, and said, "It's just right."
"It's too salty! It's so salty it makes my heart ache!"
Zhang Chulan suddenly roared.
He put down his chopsticks and bowl, gripping the corner of the table tightly until his knuckles turned white.
he knows.
He knows better than anyone else.
This is fake.
My grandfather died a long time ago.
He died on that rainy night, amidst a pile of corpses.
He didn't have a typical college life either.
He is an extraordinary person, the inheritor of the Qi Body Source Flow, and a piece of fat meat in the eyes of various forces.
He lived like a dog, like a clown, scheming and pretending every day.
Only here.
In this fabricated dream woven by Ma Xianhong.
Grandpa is still alive.
She would scold him and cook him twice-cooked pork.
"grandfather......"
Zhang Chulan raised his head, his face streaked with tears, and looked at the kind old man before him:
"If...if this were really true, how wonderful that would be."
Zhang Huaiyi was stunned.
He seemed to realize something, put down his chopsticks, and the kindness in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a deep sorrow and helplessness.
As a projection of Zhang Chulan's subconscious, he also knew... the time had come.
outside the window.
Su Wuxian stood quietly, watching this scene unfold.
The cigarette in his hand had burned out and burned his fingers, but he didn't let go.
"The most clear-headed people are often the most tormented."
Su Wuxian sighed.
He didn't want to go in.
He didn't want to be the villain who shattered his dream.
But he had to go in.
Because indulging in dreams solves nothing.
The outside world still needs Zhang Chulan; the cruel truth still needs him to uncover it.
"Knock knock knock".
Su Wuxian knocked on the door.
The grandfather and grandson inside the house were both startled.
"Who is it?" Zhang Huaiyi asked.
"Checking the water meter."
Su Wuxian pushed open the door and entered.
He was wearing that Zhongshan suit, but his face didn't have that playful smile; instead, it was more serious than ever before.
He glanced at Zhang Huaiyi and nodded slightly.
This can be considered a tribute to his former fellow disciple.
Then, he looked at Zhang Chulan.
"Are you full?" Su Wuxian asked.
Zhang Chulan wiped his face, stood up, looked at Su Wuxian, and said in a hoarse voice:
"Master...you've arrived."
"Yes, it's here."
Su Wuxian walked to the table and glanced at the plate of stir-fried pork:
"The food is good. It's better than what I ate in the mountains."
"Master..."
Zhang Chulan suddenly knelt on the ground with a thud, grabbing Su Wuxian's trouser leg like a helpless child:
"Could...could you give me another five minutes?"
"Just five minutes."
"Let me finish this bowl of rice... I want to finish this bowl of rice..."
Su Wuxian looked at him and remained silent.
He raised his hand, wanting to help Zhang Chulan up.
But seeing Zhang Chulan's pleading eyes, his hand froze in mid-air.
"Chu Lan."
Zhang Huaiyi, who was standing next to him, suddenly spoke up.
He stood up, walked to Zhang Chulan's side, and gently patted his grandson's head.
The touch of that palm was still warm, but it was beginning to become transparent.
"Don't ask for favors."
Zhang Huaiyi's voice became ethereal:
"We, the Zhang family's sons, can't back down."
"If you can't finish your food, then don't eat it. You still have a long way to go."
"Sir!!"
Zhang Chulan tried to grab his grandfather's hand, but grasped only air.
"Go."
Zhang Huaiyi looked at Su Wuxian and revealed a relieved smile:
"In Chu Lan's subconscious, this person should be... my junior brother?"
"Although I don't know you now, I can feel... that you genuinely care about this kid."
"From now on... I'm entrusting this child to you."
Su Wuxian took a deep breath and nodded solemnly:
"Don't worry, senior brother."
"With me here, no one can touch him."
"well......"
Zhang Huaiyi's figure began to dissipate, turning into specks of starlight.
The surrounding area consisted of cozy little houses, the loud sound of a television, and the strong smell of cooking oil...
Everything shattered like bubbles at that moment.
"grandfather!!!"
Zhang Chulan let out a heart-wrenching cry, frantically grabbing at the air, but unable to grasp anything.
wake up.
In the dark void.
Only Su Wuxian and Zhang Chulan, who was kneeling on the ground, remained.
Su Wuxian didn't say anything, but silently walked over and pulled the child, who was crying like a baby, up with all his might.
"Have you cried enough?"
Su Wuxian asked.
Zhang Chulan wiped away his tears, took a deep breath, and his eyes hardened again:
That's enough.
"Leave when you've had enough."
Su Wuxian turned around, his voice low:
"Remember the taste of this twice-cooked pork."
"Once we've sorted out this mess, we'll go back to Longhu Mountain..."
"The advisor will make it for you."
Zhang Chulan clenched his fist as he watched Su Wuxian's retreating figure.
"it is good."
"Master, this time... let's tear Ma Xianhong's broken furnace to smithereens!"
"Walk!"
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