Lu Yan didn’t remember much from his childhood, and frankly, he didn’t think those memories were important. Forgetting them didn’t bother him.
But ever since he fell in love, those forgotten fragments seemed to grow clearer by the day.
He still recalled that tiny, cage-like white room.
A child in white clothes endured the agony of decay over and over, only to be "healed" time and again by the so-called new drugs they developed.
The adults said it was all for the progress of humanity.
So he had to endure the pain, the hunger—all to extract crucial data on the limits of human endurance.
Often, he would curl up in the corner of his bed, biting down on his sleeve when the pain became unbearable.
At first, when the hunger gnawed at him, he’d reach out to the observers outside, and occasionally, someone might toss him a scrap of food.
But later, no matter how desperately he stretched his hand, no one pitied him.
"Hungry… so hungry…"
The researchers outside recoiled in disgust as he crawled to the edge of the glass window, stepping further away.
Through the glass, he saw his own reflection.
A child rotting and reforming, his body no longer whole—just a revolting, putrid mess, reeking of decay.
Someone like him… no, he wasn’t even human.
Eventually, Lu Yan learned not to scream in pain or beg for food. No one would help him, and crying out only wasted his strength.
Once he grew accustomed, he could almost convince himself the pain didn’t hurt anymore.
He watched as batches of people in white clothes entered the neighboring rooms, one after another, never to return.
Men, women, old, young—to the researchers, they were nothing more than test subjects for human endurance.
The SU sought to create a drug—one that could grant "rebirth" from "death." A miracle that would alter the course of history.
Most test subjects perished during the first death experiment or became grotesque mutations from genetic tampering.
Only Lu Yan endured death after death. Even as his flesh rotted, he clung to life—as if he were the "rebirth" they craved.
So he became the lab’s longest-held prisoner.
Eventually, the researchers’ gazes turned feverish, and he realized—he truly wasn’t human anymore.
Then, one day, he snapped the ropes binding his arms and fled the operating table. The flames he ignited raged uncontrollably, devouring everything.
At the heart of the inferno, surrounded by scorching heat and ash, he felt no fear—only a delirious thrill.
Burn.
Let the fire burn brighter. Let it consume the whole world!
Black mist coiled overhead, shrouding the cursed place like an illusion of isolation, luring one unfortunate soul after another into its grasp.
Lu Yan gasped, the vivid memories suddenly fading. Blinking awake, he stared blankly at the girl perched on top of him, forgetting for a moment that he’d dreamed of the past.
"Xia Miao?" His voice was soft, drowsy, sending a tingle down the ears of the insatiable girl.
Xia Miao cupped his face. "Did you just have a nightmare?"
A nightmare?
Lu Yan looked dazed. "I don’t remember."
Xia Miao thrust her hand in front of him. "You pinched me so hard it’s red!"
"I’m sorry, Xia Miao!" he stammered.
She dropped her scolding act, flopping onto his chest with a grumble. "The biggest nightmare is right here beside you. What else is there to fear?"
Lu Yan took a moment to process this. "Xia Miao isn’t a nightmare."
She huffed. "I’m high-maintenance, but that’s because I’m exceptional. You’re supposed to accommodate me, not the other way around. Got it?"
Lu Yan blinked. "Cold."
Xia Miao immediately yanked the blanket over him, tucking the edges snugly. "Better?"
When she looked up, their eyes met, and she flustered. "I just—I don’t want you getting sick and making me take care of you! It’s not like I like you more than you like me!"
Lu Yan simply said, "Oh."
Xia Miao tugged at his recently softened black hair, competitive as ever. "Admit it. You like me more, right?"
He’d learned his lesson. "Yes. I like Xia Miao more."
Pleased, she kissed the corner of his mouth. "Good answer."
Lu Yan’s eyes sparkled, his cowlick bouncing excitedly no matter how much she tried to smooth it down.
Whatever.
Xia Miao pulled him up. "It’s the weekend, but no lazing around. We promised Tall Guy we’d help him woo my best friend!"
Her sudden enthusiasm stemmed from guilt—she’d nearly ruined a budding romance. She had sins to atone for!
Her plan was set: invite Fang Keai to the activity room, then have Tall Guy appear with a bouquet—Lu Yan’s idea, of course.
But where to get flowers?
Lu Yan and Xia Miao turned in unison toward the garden outside, exchanging mischievous grins.
"Gotta be careful," Xia Miao whispered.
"Don’t let the old gardener catch us," Lu Yan added.
Hand in hand, they snickered identically, sneaking into the garden and crouching side by side, committing floral crimes.
The headless woman adjusted her newly diamond-carved head, admiring its sparkle.
The conjoined twins slurped from a pot of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall. "Shouldn’t someone stop those two troublemakers?"
The day before, Lu Yan and Xia Miao had hidden the headless woman’s head.
Yesterday, they’d waxed the twins’ utensils.
And now? Flower theft.
Lu Yan was never one to sit still—he’d always been a bit of a troublemaker. But after getting a girlfriend, he became even more restless. And since Xia Miao indulged his every whim, having her backing only emboldened him further, to the point where even dogs avoided him in annoyance.
The old gardener glanced at the two figures rustling about in the garden, took a leisurely sip of his fine black tea, and chuckled. "A little liveliness isn’t such a bad thing, is it?"
