Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 136: Unbeatable Loneliness is a Disease (2)

Dragon Raja 4

With a click, the door lock opened, and the sealed past unfolded before Lu Mingfei. This small room had been submerged in water in reality, but in “Spring of Gamma,” it still existed as a perfect replica.

Lu Mingfei moved the old mattress aside, revealing a concealed door beneath. Sliding down a steel pipe, he illuminated the area with his flashlight. The first thing he saw was a neatly arranged collection of vinyl records, all jazz classics. Then there were Cuban cigars, all high-end. Of course, where there were cigars, there was also whiskey—the strongest, from the islands. The small collection mainly consisted of vintage cameras, including Leica and Hasselblad, with a full setup for developing photos. In the corner was gym equipment, with dumbbells larger than Lu Mingfei’s head. All these items surrounded a comfortable central bed, topped with a soft sheepskin mattress.

Sitting on the bed, Lu Mingfei was overwhelmed by the strong presence of the man who had once lived here. Though it wasn’t his first time, he was always struck by the man’s overwhelming charisma.

Putting Chu Zihang next to his father felt like comparing Elvis Presley to a Shaolin monk.

In his mind, Lu Mingfei sketched out the image of a slick-haired, muscular man, cigar in one hand, whiskey in the other, pacing through this space. He imagined him standing by the sink, developing photos, while Heartbreak Hotel by Elvis Presley played from a speaker. On the nearby workbench, a bullet was clamped down, its tip hand-engraved with a cross, ready to explode upon entering an enemy’s body. Clearly, Chu Tianjiao often did such handiwork to pass the time.

The most astonishing sight was the red strings. Above the bed, countless red strings were stretched, some parallel, others tangled into knots.

Each string held handwritten notes on paper, with each piece of paper corresponding to an event. As Lu Mingfei read them, he became increasingly alarmed:

• June 30, 1908: The Tunguska explosion. The shockwave shattered glass 650 kilometers away, and nearby residents thought the sun had risen early.

• August 30, 1900: The “Summer of Mourning.” A mysterious ancient corpse awakened, destroying the Kassel estate. The Lionheart Society was completely wiped out, with Hilbert Ron Anjou as the sole survivor.

• December 25, 1991: A massive explosion in a frozen port north of Verkhoyansk. Reconnaissance fighter jets were attacked by mysterious creatures.

• November 7, 2002: The Greenland Sea. Cassell College’s Execution Bureau sent a team to investigate mysterious heartbeats and encountered what appeared to be a Dragon King in the icy depths. Only one and a half members survived.

…

In the span of two hundred years, various dragon-related events were suspended in the air. Some were familiar to Lu Mingfei, while others were new to him. The events were linked by red strings, with certain threads intersecting to form new events. Others remained isolated, suspended by a single string. The web of red strings was complex, but ultimately, all of them converged into a thick bundle, tied to a concrete wall. Next to it, written in black ink, was an ancient name: Nidhogg.

Chu Tianjiao wasn’t concerned with the events themselves but rather with the flow they formed, all of them converging toward the mysterious black dragon.

These red strings represented the tangible form of fate. Countless nights, Chu Tianjiao must have lain on this sheepskin-covered bed, staring at the red strings, contemplating where fate was headed.

Chu Tianjiao was clearly no ordinary person, nor was he just any hybrid. He was a sentinel, watching over Nidhogg. But was he guarding against the black dragon’s awakening, or was he anticipating its return? He had undoubtedly come to this city for a specific purpose. His job as a driver was merely a cover. But here, he unexpectedly fell in love with a woman named Su Xiaoyan. They married and had a child. With his capabilities, winning Su Xiaoyan’s heart was easy. But Chu Tianjiao knew he couldn’t provide a peaceful life for his family. He was the type of man who lived on the edge, a man who licked the blood of dragons from his blade—someone unlikely to die peacefully in a soft bed.

He divorced Su Xiaoyan, allowing her to take Chu Zihang and marry another man. While that family enjoyed a life together, Chu Tianjiao lay in the third basement, silently staring at these red strings, pondering the grand themes of human destiny. Chu Tianjiao was a lonely man, but he was also incredibly extraordinary. It was like the quote from the Alain Delon film Le Samouraï: “There’s no one lonelier than a samurai. Perhaps a tiger in the jungle.”

But Lu Mingfei had already studied these things many times. The projection device provided no new clues, and the giant creature symbolizing despair still remained hidden in layers of fog.

Time was running out, so Lu Mingfei flipped through the cards, memorizing the events and the trajectories of the red strings. He couldn’t take even a single scrap of paper from this dream, but he could take the memories with him. So, he needed to review everything a few more times.

As he prepared to leave, he noticed the photo-developing sink. Next to it was Chu Tianjiao’s workbench, its surface covered with pinned photographs.

All the photos were candid shots, taken in amusement parks, shopping malls, restaurants—through bushes, behind glass, through curtains of rain. In every shot, the subjects were the same: a younger Su Xiaoyan and a baby-faced Chu Zihang. Su Xiaoyan appeared in various moods in the photos—happy, contemplative, or lonely—sometimes like a mother, sometimes like a little girl, and sometimes like a wife. Under Chu Tianjiao’s lens, she was always changing, and in every form, she was beautiful.

A certain businessman named Lu occasionally appeared in the shots, but Chu Tianjiao always made sure to blur him when developing the photos, reducing him to a mere blob of light and shadow.

Even a man as carefree as Chu Tianjiao couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy. Another man had taken his place, and that made him uncomfortable, so he blurred him out.

In the corners of the photos, dates and notes were written in red ink:

“This is the first year since you left me. You look like you’re doing well. That puts my mind at ease.”

 “It’s been two years now. Please, don’t look so haggard.”

“Third year, you’ve gained weight, but you’re looking good.”

“Fourth year, I think about you less.”

“Fifth year, even less.”

“Sixth year, but I still miss you.”

Lu Mingfei imagined Chu Tianjiao, using tweezers to pull out photo after photo from the water, pinning them to the wooden board, then sitting at the workbench, smoking a cigar, watching the photos slowly dry. These were his wife and child once, but now, they only existed within the frame of his lens. When drunk, he’d take out a red pen and scribble words along the edges of the photos, as if talking to the woman inside them. Lu Mingfei sighed softly. The photo that moved him the most was one where Su Xiaoyan, with short hair, was hugging a 11 or 12-year-old Chu Zihang. They were sitting by a gently flowing river, watching the sunset. The woman was beautiful, and the boy looked cool. Mother and son bathed in the golden evening light, surrounded by swaying reeds. Little did they know, someone was hiding among the reeds, quietly aiming a camera at them. Chu Tianjiao could watch them from afar, but he couldn’t get close. After all, Mrs. Lu wouldn’t be out alone with her son; Mr. Lu or a driver was likely nearby, keeping watch.

On the edge of the photo, Chu Tianjiao had written: “Just like this, don’t cry. Keep looking forward.”

Lu Mingfei thought to himself, There really are men who are like romantic heroes. Separated by distance, they still silently watch over the woman they love, without asking for anything in return, only wanting her to live a better life than they do. But then, Lu Mingfei realized that Chu Tianjiao and Su Xiaoyan weren’t really that far apart. The physical distance between the industrial area and Chu Zihang’s villa might be close, but the class gap between them was vast. If Mr. Lu ever dared to mistreat Su Xiaoyan, Chu Tianjiao could storm into the villa within an hour. Su Xiaoyan, with her generous heart, probably didn’t love Chu Tianjiao that deeply anymore, but she also wasn’t madly in love with Mr. Lu. So, in a way, Mr. Lu was raising Chu Tianjiao’s son, and Chu Tianjiao had no reason to be upset about it.

Lu Mingfei, caught up in these thoughts, remembered how Nono thought he could relate to Chu Tianjiao. But on deeper reflection, Chu Tianjiao’s feelings for Su Xiaoyan stemmed from the fact that they had once been husband and wife, partners who had flown through life together and even had a child. In short, Chu Tianjiao’s situation was entirely different from his own. Lu Mingfei didn’t even have the right to use Chu Tianjiao as an example to console himself.

If he ever died and met Chu Tianjiao in the afterlife, they wouldn’t have much to talk about. If Chu Tianjiao asked, “Brother, what was your relationship with that girl?” Lu Mingfei would be left speechless.

Waving goodbye to the small room, Lu Mingfei said, “Goodbye, Uncle Chu!”

Carrying the heavy black case, Lu Mingfei walked out of the Huan Ya Group’s factory area, where Nono was standing, her gun raised, facing off with a raven.

The raven was perched on the barbed wire, cawing and preening its feathers. Odin’s raven had already found them, revealing their whereabouts. Nono didn’t know whether she should shoot, fearing that the gunshot would attract more ravens. Without a second thought, Lu Mingfei drew his Desert Eagle and shot the raven out of the sky. He threw the black case into the trunk and pulled Nono into the car before driving away.

They exited the highway at the turn leading to the CBD. As they passed a toll booth, Lu Mingfei casually fired a shot, blowing the head off the Death Servitor stationed there.

The Maybach drove straight through the CBD, heading toward the old town. As they passed Clock Tower, Lu Mingfei didn’t even glance at Odin’s looming silhouette.

Nono stared at the bizarre and twisted city, with brightly lit shopping malls displaying meticulously arranged goods, but no customers or employees in sight. The traffic lights flashed rhythmically, yet no other cars were on the road.

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