Jianghu– Ein Ort, an dem man sich nicht verletzt

Kapitel 8

I threw my things on the ground and sat down at my computer, wondering: How did I end up back here again?

Later I figured it out, it might really be a dream. But since I could do it the first time, who knows if I could do it a second time? So I took a big travel backpack and packed all the new men's products, my daily necessities, Swiss Army knife, nail clippers and other personal items into a bag and put it on the bedside table. I planned to hug it every night when I went to sleep. If I wore it back next time, I would take this big bag of things with me.

Even her sleeping habits, which she had maintained for many years, have completely changed. She used to rarely wear pajamas, but this time she was even wearing jeans properly.

However, more than ten days have passed in the blink of an eye, and despite my eagerness, I still haven't fulfilled my dream of returning to Savage Valley.

My boyfriend came to see me twice during that time. The first time he said he wanted to break up, and the second time he said we shouldn't break up.

I was too weak to answer, so I just replied, "Whatever."

I was just settling for this boyfriend. In reality, apart from the initial passion when we first met, there wasn't much genuine affection between us. We didn't live in the same city either; I lived my life while he went to see his girlfriend.

Once, he came to me to discuss the future of our relationship, and I inadvertently asked, "What kind of relationship?"

From then on, he hated me to death, and our once mundane and regular weekly meetings gradually cooled down.

No wonder even my mother was puzzled: If you don't like her, why keep her hanging on?

My reasoning at the time was quite sound: I should ride one donkey first, and then look for the next one, so as not to be too impatient.

But I'm getting really impatient now. I often see the savage in my dreams. I dream that he's back to the disheveled look we had when we first met. I dream that he's having a sleepwalking episode and he's mutilated his fingers until they're bloody and mangled. I dream that he's frantically searching for me everywhere. I dream that he's gradually calming down and becoming desperate... I even saw his desperate expression again. I really want to jump in front of him and slap him twice to see if he dares to be desperate again!

Then the days passed, the holiday was about to end, and I slowly put down the things about Savage Valley, Savage Spring, Savage Slope, Savage Tree, Savage Fruit, and Savage... little by little.

But there's always a saying, "fate is unpredictable." That day, I made up my mind to wear running shoes to bed one last time. Even if the fire alarm went off three times in one night, I wouldn't wear them again. But this time—

I smelled the scent of the morning mist in the mountains. I shivered, hugged the huge travel bag that was heavier than my son tightly, and closed my eyes, afraid to open them.

After a long time, when there was no sound in my ears, I felt the cool mountain breeze become real, and finally, cautiously, I opened my eyes to look.

Good heavens—I slammed my travel bag down. I'm back! I'm back here again! I roared to the sky, my scream echoing through the heavens.

Looking around, I realized that this was the place where I first came, fell into the pit the second time and returned, and came back to this place the third time. Could there be some kind of time tunnel here? I turned around and looked around, but my peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of an object and I stopped abruptly.

I slowly turned my gaze back—

"Savage!" I ran wildly toward the savage who was kneeling crookedly not far away. "Savage—!"

I ran to his side and hugged him tightly, just like the first time he hugged me with all his might.

"Wild man, wild man—" I clung tightly to his neck, "It's so good to see you!! I missed you so much!!!"

The savage's body trembled slightly between my two tightly clenched hands. I waited for a long time, but there was no response from him.

As I slowly released my grip, I smelled an unforgettable, fishy stench wafting towards my nose.

I looked down in disbelief and saw a savage in tattered clothes. He was looking down at the ground, his hands in front of him with broken and missing fingertips. His leaf-covered body was long gone, and his exposed skin was covered with new and gruesome wounds, some with dried pus and blood, and some even oozing a thick, yellow liquid.

I knelt before him, trying to lift his face. His long hair, though dry, was tangled and matted from not washing it in so long. I slowly raised his head, and I saw his dirty, sallow face, his eyes blank and confused...

"You..." she choked out, her fingers digging hard into his flesh.

He seemed completely oblivious, staring at me with a blank expression, his face half-hidden by his disheveled hair and beard.

“Wild man…” I called him, my voice pleading. I never knew I would plead with anyone. Then I grabbed his hand. “Wild man, what’s wrong with you? Look at me! I’m Sun Qingshan—no, I’m Sheng Huan! What’s wrong with you? Wake up! Please!”

I forced him to look away. His gaze, slowly focusing due to the shaking, once held joy, anger, madness, worry… a whole range of emotions, but now it seemed empty. His eyes, round and clear without contact lenses, were devoid of life. I reached out, my fingers tracing the corner of his eye. Some moments felt destined to be endlessly long, almost suffocating me. I was worried—worried that something had happened to him, worried that seeing him like this would break my heart. Even more frightening was the fear that even if he saw me, he wouldn't recognize me…

His lips parted, white dew trembled on his unkempt beard, and he trembled slightly, each tremor making my heart flutter.

I grabbed his head, forcing him to look directly at me.

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan..."

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!"

...

Finally, as countless overlapping sounds of "Sun Qingshan" echoed through the empty valley, the wild man, as I swayed, slowly, almost too slowly, blinked.

Without pausing, I shook his head even harder, and then shook his shoulders... Only then did I realize how terrified the savage must have been when he saw me injured and drowning...

"Savage, it's me, Sun Qingshan!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!!!"

The second time, when he opened his eyes again, he suddenly struggled and began to try to break free from my hand.

"Savage, it's me, Sun Qingshan! Can you hear me?!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!!"

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan!!!"

...

until……

He seemed to be in pain from hearing it, so he slowly closed his eyes and nodded slightly at me.

This means...

"Savage, I am Sun Qingshan..."

Once again, the amplitude increased, and he nodded.

"Savage..."

My nose stung with emotion. He remembered me, he recognized me, he hadn't forgotten me—I wanted to laugh, but my eyes stung terribly. I reached out to him, no longer having the strength to care about the filth covering him. The smell of him still made me nauseous, but he was no longer that strange, unapproachable savage. I held him tightly in my arms. He was so thin, I hugged him desperately, trying to fill the gap between us.

So, I was so excited that I couldn't even figure out what kind of feelings I was having when I returned here.

“Savage,” I said, not daring to look him in the eye, but desperately trying to come up with an explanation for myself, “I fell into a pit, and I don’t know how I got back to my original world. I didn’t mean to go back, I really wanted to…”

He patted me on the back, indicating that he had listened to my explanation.

"Savage..."

He was quietly held in my arms.

"Did you...look for me?" I asked.

He did not respond.

"Did you miss me?"

He still did not respond.

"Savage...savage?"

I sensed something was wrong, so I let go of him to look at his face and found that his eyes were closed and he had already passed out.

Facial features analysis

I carried the savage back to the cave, resting every three steps and stopping every two steps. I never knew I had such boundless potential; I actually managed to carry this big man for three miles.

After starting a fire and settling the savages, they returned to the cliff to carry their son.

I wasn't carrying my son on my back; I was carrying a backpack essential for wilderness survival. This backpack weighed almost as much as a wild man, and I had long forgotten what I had packed inside.

After all that fuss, I wrapped the wild man in a thin blanket in the cave. He had a fever; with all that fuss, it would be hard not to get sick.

I fed him the fever reducer, and then I sat down and started thinking about the concept of coming back.

At first I was very happy, and I was even more excited when I saw the wild man.

When I rushed towards him, I had no idea how much time had passed in the valley.

It might be like another dream, just a fleeting moment, and I've gone and come back.

However, when I discovered that the wild man was becoming more and more like a savage, I started to feel scared, afraid that I had returned at the wrong time.

For a moment, I wondered if I had traveled back to a time before I met the wild man.

But the savage remembered me, which dispelled my idea and raised another question: how long have I been gone?

How long exactly did it take for a living person to turn himself into a wild man again?

Looking back at him, his sickly face was completely hidden by his long hair, the ends of which were scattered on the ground. A faint remnant of the 3x3 grid we drew while playing Sudoku remained on the floor. His outstretched hand, covered by the blanket, was covered with a jumble of words. Under his bottom lay a Gomoku (Five in a Row) puzzle, and at his feet were boards for Ludo and Monopoly. The fire beside us was burning in the kitchen where we played hopscotch, while the study next door was filled with various chemical equations and mathematical formulas…

It turns out we've really been together for a long time, which is why I can't forget him and want to go back to him... I wonder if that's really the reason.

I don't even know if his confused mind has improved at all. Does the fact that he remembers me count as a small step forward?

At that moment, I rushed to my travel bag and rummaged through it to find a murder weapon.

"Hehehe..." I chuckled wickedly as I walked toward the savage.

I plopped down next to his face, turned to the side, carefully brushed aside the hair covering his face, and stared blankly at his face, which had a bloody mark on one side and a black mark on the other.

I originally wanted to take him to the hot springs to clean him up, but I softened my heart.

I took out some waterless hand gel, squeezed a big dollop onto his forehead, and was about to rub my hands together to scrub his face, but then I softened and was afraid of hurting his still-healing wound.

Finally, having no other choice, I took out a wet wipe and gently cleaned his face bit by bit.

As his face slowly returned to its normal color, I heard a sly chuckle coming from my throat again. Actually, I had been thinking about this for a long time. In fact, as soon as I got home, I bought a whole bunch of men's products. This was exactly what I wanted to do.

At that moment, my face was hidden in the shadows where the firelight couldn't reach, and I slowly raised the razor in my hand...

"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid..." I comforted myself. I'd shaved my leg hair more than once or twice, and I always used the sharpest blades to trim my eyebrows. I was just shaving the wild man's beard, and I had a big jar of shaving foam in my hand. It definitely wouldn't lead to a murder.

Thinking of this, I vigorously waved the bottle in my hand, aimed it at the savage's face, and "whoosh," squeezed out a large puddle of foam.

I raised the knife and made the first cut. I watched as white foam and beard peeled off along with the blade. "Roar roar roar..." A perverted laugh rang out again and again.

I started to get a little nervous during the second cut.

The savage's brows furrowed slightly. He had no idea what I was doing to him, but I doubted that he had grown such a large beard because he liked the look. He probably didn't hate me, after all, growing a beard is like a woman growing long hair; to grow it in a free and unrestrained way is not something that can be done overnight.

But he should at least let me see his face, just like when I couldn't wait to wipe the dirt off his face and see his fair skin, his naturally chestnut eyebrows, his high but not jarring nose, and his well-defined lips. Now I want to see his chin again, to see his true face shape, to figure out what he really looks like.

So I shaved faster and faster, and finally, without breaking the skin, I shaved the wild man's beard clean. Then I wiped away the remaining foam on his face with a tissue, applied aftershave, put a band-aid on his still-open wound, and finally bent down in front of him to examine his face carefully.

This is... the face of a savage...

I went closer to take a look, and to be honest, I didn't feel much anymore. The suspense wasn't revealed all at once, but little by little, which diluted my strong feelings and judgment about the unknown.