When Charley finished fetching water and returned to the room, she found that familiar figure was nowhere to be seen;
only twenty seconds had passed since she left the room.
Realizing her negligence, she left the hotel to correct it through practical actions;
she did this not for others, but for herself.
Several hours later, after circling the city several times, Charley finally found the person in a bamboo grove.
The person sat alone deep in the bamboo grove, emitting the aura of a lonely individual.
The atmosphere made Charley quiet, completely quiet;
amidst the silence, she gradually tasted the tang of oranges, her dark eyes warming with heat but no tears falling.
As Charley approached, she turned to him, holding his cool hand with another hand, and asked softly,
"Why is your hand so cold? Hasn't your body begun to recover yet?"
Regarding his lies, Charley had always been aware;
but she clung to a slim hope, unwilling to believe the suspicion in her heart, trying to find comfort through self-deception.
Perhaps to prevent Charley from worrying, Wang Xiaole chose to maintain the lie, though it was futile.
After hearing Wang Xiaole's response, Charley's emptiness did not diminish, but expanded, as if to swallow her whole heart.
In an attempt to conceal her anxiety, Charley changed her voice and calmly suggested,
"When you've recovered, shall we go out on a date again? Is that ok?"
On that day, Charley's demeanor was unusually different, as if negotiating rather than asserting.
"Well... I will consider it when I recover."
Promising something without hope was the most polite way of refusal.
Wang Xiaole could only reply this way, as long as his heart wasn't there, Charley would only hear similar answers.
Charley's gaze grew distant, but she softly said,
"Well, Xiaole, you must recover quickly, you must!"
As she repeated the half of the sentence, Wang Xiaole fell into deep thought and, shortly after, he apologized for the first time:
"Sorry!"
He apologized to Charley, full of remorse.
"Xiaole, you know that those are the last words I want to hear."
"Charley, I - I apologize to you!"
Though reluctant, Wang Xiaole still voiced the words.
Charley's throat tightened slightly.
What existed between Charley and Wang Xiaole was layers of barriers like silkworm silk, forming an impenetrable cocoon that trapped them both, preventing anyone from breaking free and returning to the days of holding hands in the sunlight.
With a drowsy expression on his face, Wang Xiaole's head slightly trembled.
Charley reached out and touched his head lying on the bamboo mat.
She stroked his hair down, finally touching his cheek, feeling very little warmth on it;
as her fingers brushed his eyelashes, the last trace of warmth slipped away, and his eyelids slowly closed.
Was it her illusion?
An illusion?
If so, under the cool moonlight, amidst the greenery, was the man lying there, the man she couldn't take her eyes off, just a phantom too?
The cicada chirping gradually came to an end.
The chirping was like the final drifting note, fading like smoke, leaving only a mournful resonance, like silk threads entwined in the lush, hot summer.
Charley asked herself:
Is all this just my illusion, or is it real?
She could barely lift her right hand, and as she leaned towards the man in front of her, her body slumped, falling directly into his embrace.
The man sat on the ground, his arms in a posture as if to embrace someone;
at that moment, Charley entered his arms.
The boy's warm and gentle black eyes were no longer visible to the girl;
beyond his eyelids, touched by moonlight, he seemed to be looking at the girl in his arms.
Charley, however, inexplicably could no longer see the man in front of her clearly.
His soft features blurred in her foggy vision, seeming ethereal and about to drift away with the wind.
But as she reached out, she felt the cool and damp face, not an illusion;
only her heart kept sinking, unable to resurface like drowning in water.
A hot drop of water fell into her palm.
The drop of water suddenly burned Charley, scorching her teary eyes;
in a moment, tears gushed forth uncontrollably.
Even though it was still summer, it felt extremely cold.
Neither of them could find enough warmth in each other's embrace to warm themselves.
The tears kept getting dried by the icy wind, her cheeks felt as if they were cracking, the pain so sharp it was like being cut by a knife;
yet, it could not compare to the palpitation of her chest, like cracking dry soil.
Sobs rose, intermittent and disconnected, almost inaudible, this was her first cry.
"I won't give up, no matter how many lifetimes..."
After crying for who knows how long, the voice echoed through the bamboo grove repeatedly. From today on, after discreetly burying that person here, a certain girl had completely disappeared from this city.
