"I am a failure, I hardly ever notice if the sun is shining or not, because I don't have time. "

My parents can't offer me support, and my education level isn't high. I'm alone in the city, searching for my future.

I applied for many jobs, but none of them hired me. Maybe no one likes someone who isn't good at talking, doesn't like to socialize, and hasn't shown enough ability.

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"I went for three whole days on only two slices of bread. Hunger kept me from sleeping at night. Luckily, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could stay in that dark basement and avoid the unusually harsh winter wind outside."

Finally, I found a job, working graveyard shift at the hospital, watching over the morgue.

The hospital at night was colder than I imagined. The corridor's wall lamps were unlit, leaving everything in dimness. I could only make out my feet by the faint light seeping from the rooms.

The smell there was awful, and every so often they’d bring in bodies stuffed into body bags. We would help carry them into the morgue.

"This isn't a great job, but at least it lets me afford bread. I can also use my free time at night to study. After all, not many people are willing to come to the morgue unless there's a body that needs to be brought in or taken away for cremation. Of course, I don't have enough money to buy books yet, and I don't see any hope of saving up anytime soon."

I have to thank my former colleague. If he hadn't suddenly resigned, I might not even have gotten this job.

I dream of being able to switch shifts and work during the day. Right now, I sleep when the sun is out and wake up when it gets dark, which has made my body a little weak and my head occasionally aches.

One day, the movers brought in a new corpse.

"According to what others have said, this is my former colleague who suddenly quit."

I was a little curious about him, so after everyone left, I pulled out the drawer and quietly opened the body bag.

He was an old man, his face sallow and wrinkled, covered in lines that were especially frightening under the dim lighting.

His hair was sparse, mostly white. He was stripped naked, not a single scrap of cloth left on him.

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I saw a strange mark on his chest, dark blue in color. I couldn't describe its exact shape because the light was too dim at the time.

I reached out and touched the mark. It was nothing special.

Looking at this former colleague of mine, I wondered if I kept going like this, would I end up just like him when I got old?

“I told him that I would accompany him to the crematorium tomorrow, personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, so that those responsible for these matters wouldn't find it troublesome and just throw them in a random river or wasteland.”

This will cost me a morning's sleep, but luckily, it's Sunday tomorrow, so I can catch up.

After I finished speaking, I got the body bag ready and stuffed it back in the closet.

The lights in the room seemed to have dimmed...

After that day, every time I slept, I would always dream of a thick fog.

“I have a premonition that something will happen soon, a feeling that sooner or later something that I can't even call human will come looking for me. But no one believes me. They think that in this kind of environment, doing this kind of work, my mind has become abnormal and I need to see a doctor...”

A male patron seated at the bar looked toward the storyteller who had suddenly stopped speaking:

And then?

The male guest was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and light yellow trousers. His hair was combed flat, and he held a simple dark round top hat in his hand.

He looked ordinary, much like most of the people in the tavern. He had black hair and light blue eyes, neither unattractive nor handsome, lacking any distinctive features.

And in his eyes, the narrator was an eighteen or nineteen-year-old young man, tall and slender, with short black hair and light blue eyes. His features were deep and striking, making him stand out at first glance.

The young man looked at the empty wine glass in front of him and sighed,

And then?

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"Then I quit my job and moved back home, here to chat with you."

As he spoke, a smile crept onto his face, one that held a touch of slyness.

The male guest was stunned: good book reading app

"Were you just bragging?"

"Haha." A wave of laughter erupted around the bar.

After a moment of silence, a thin middle-aged man looked at the slightly embarrassed guests and said:

"Outsider, you actually believe Lumiang's stories? He tells a different one every day! Yesterday he was a poor wretch whose fiancee broke off the engagement, and today he's become a mortician!"

"Yeah, what's with the 'thirty years on the east bank of the Serenzo River, thirty years on the west bank'? That sounds like utter nonsense!" another regular at the tavern chimed in.

They are all farmers from the large village of Kordu, wearing short jackets that are either black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired young man called Lumian, supported himself on the bar with his hands, slowly stood up and said with a smile:

"As you know, these aren't stories I made up, they were all written by my sister. She loves writing stories the most, she's even a columnist for something called 'Novel Weekly'."

After he finished speaking, he leaned sideways, offered his hand to the visitor with a broad smile:

"She writes really well. Good reading app

"Sorry, I misunderstood."

The ordinary-looking man in the brown tweed jacket didn't get angry. He stood up, smiling and replying:

"A very interesting story."

"What's your name?"

"Isn't it common sense to introduce yourself before asking someone else questions?" Lumiang laughed.

The visitor from out of town nodded:

My name is Ryan Cos.

"These two are my companions, Valentine and Lyra."

The following sentence refers to a man and a woman sitting right next to each other.

He was a man in his late twenties or early thirties, with slightly gray hair. His eyes weren't particularly large but held a shade of blue deeper than the lake. He wore a white waistcoat, a navy blue tweed coat, and black trousers. It was clear he had taken some time to dress carefully before going out.

He wore a rather cold expression and didn't look much at the surrounding farmers and herdsmen.

The woman looked younger than the two men. She had long, light gray hair styled in a complicated updo, topped with a white headscarf.

Her eyes, the same color as her hair, looked at Lumian with undisguised amusement. She seemed to find what had just happened rather amusing.

In the warm glow of the pub's gaslight, a woman named Lyra displayed her pert nose and beautifully curved lips. In a rural village like Colordu, she was considered quite beautiful.

She was wearing a white, smooth cashmere bodycon dress, paired with a cream-colored short jacket and a pair of Massill boots. Her veil and boots each had two small silver bells, which jingled as she walked into the pub just now, attracting much attention. Many men couldn't help but stare at her.

In their eyes, this must be the fashionable attire found in provincial capitals like Gor and the capital city of Tirril.

Luman nodded to the three strangers:

"My name is Lumian Li, you can call me Lumian."

"Li?" Lira blurted out.

"What's wrong with my last name?" Lumián asked curiously.

Ryan Cosgrove explained:

"Your surname is frightening, I almost couldn't control my voice just now."

Seeing the puzzled faces of the surrounding farmers and herdsmen, he went on to explain further:

Those who have come into contact with sailors and seafarers know that there is a saying circulating among the five seas:

"Rather face a pirate general or even a king, than meet a man named Frank Lee."

"That person's surname is also Li."

"Is he scary?" Lumean asked.

Ryan shook his head:

"I don't know, but since there are such legends, it definitely won't be bad."

He stopped the subject and said to Luminian:

"Thank you for your story, it deserves a drink. What would you like?"

"A cup of 'Green Fairy,' please." Lumia wasn't at all modest as she settled back down.

Ryan Cosgrave frowned: Good book reading app

"Green Fairy"... Absinthe?

"I think I need to remind you that absinthe is harmful to the human body, this drink can potentially cause mental disturbances and hallucinations."

"I didn't think the Tríll trend had reached this far," Leah added with a smile.

Lumen uttered an "oh".

"It turns out that people in Trier also like to drink 'Green Fairy'…"

"Life is hard enough already, there's no need to worry about a little more hurt. This drink can give our spirits greater relaxation."

"Alright." Ryan settled back into his seat and looked at the bartender, "One 'Green Fairy,' and another one 'Hot Mouth' please."

"LaixinKou" is a famous fruit soju.

“Why don’t you get me a ‘Green Fairy’ too? It was I who told you the truth just now, and I can tell you exactly what this boy is like!” The first to expose Lumian's daily storytelling, a thin middle-aged man shouted angrily, “Outsiders, I can see that you still doubt the truth of that story!”

"Pierre, for a free drink you'll do anything!" Loumian responded loudly.

Before Ryan could make a decision, Lumian added:

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"Why couldn't I be the one to tell them, that way I could have another 'Green Fairy'?"

"Because of what you said, they don't know whether to believe it," the middle-aged man Pierre said with a triumphant smile. "Your sister loves telling the children stories about 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf.' People who always lie will eventually lose all credibility."

"Alright." Lumian shrugged, watching as the bartender slid a pale green drink toward him.

Ryan looked at him and asked:

"May I?"

"No problem, as long as your wallet can cover the cost of these drinks," Lu Mian said nonchalantly.

"Then another 'Green Fairy' please." Ryan nodded.

Pierre was smiling broadly at the time:

"The generous stranger, this boy is the biggest prankster in the village. You must stay away from him."

Five years ago, he was brought back to the village by his sister, Auriol. He hasn't left since. Think about it, before that, he was only thirteen. How could he possibly go to the hospital as a mourner? Well, the nearest hospital to us is in Dalerij, down in the mountains. It takes a whole afternoon to get there.

"Take him back to the village?" Lyra asked sharply.

She tilted her head slightly, causing a clinking sound.

Pierre nodded.

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Then, he followed Auror Li and even his name, Luminian, was given by Auror.

"I've forgotten what it was originally called," Lumayan said with a chuckle, taking a sip of his bitter liqueur.

It seems he doesn't feel any shame or humiliation about his past being revealed like this.

>HuaiSheng's wife went on a date with someone else again.