Linbiangui Village-Infinite Streaming Chapter 45

Where to Go

The pungent smell of disinfectant, mixed with a faint floral fragrance, quietly squeezed into Chen Jin’s nostrils. The burnt, smoky smell and the metallic sweetness in his mouth were gradually replaced. He struggled to lift his heavy eyelids, focusing his mind. His vision slowly transitioned from blurry to clear—what greeted his eyes was a pristine white ceiling, a bright overhead light, and a transparent IV bag hanging beside the bed, slowly dripping fluid.

This wasn’t the dilapidated roof of the Guesthouse, nor was it the magnificent beams of the Mountain God Temple. This was… a hospital?

“Xiao Jin! You’re awake?! Thank heavens, you’re finally awake!” A familiar, anxious voice rang out beside his ear.

Chen Jin laboriously turned his stiff neck. A slight side glance revealed his advisor’s face, etched with worry and exhaustion, leaning close. Her glasses had nearly slipped to the tip of her nose, and the eyes behind them were bloodshot, suggesting she had pulled several all-nighters.

“Advis—?” Chen Jin started, his voice hoarse and dry, like sandpaper rubbing together.

“Yes, yes… Do you feel any better?” His advisor’s voice trembled slightly.

“Don’t rush to talk, drink some water first.” The advisor quickly picked up the paper cup from the table, dipped a cotton swab in warm water, and gently wiped it back and forth across Chen Jin’s cracked lips. The current scene was completely incongruous with any life-or-death race against time he remembered.

“…Okay, thank you, Advisor.” Chen Jin was slightly stunned, but he quickly used the hand not connected to the IV to prop himself up and sit against the headboard. He then took the paper cup from his advisor’s hand. “I can manage myself.”

“You scared us to death! I shouldn’t have allowed you to come alone in the first place.” The advisor was heartbroken, pacing back and forth in the ward. If anything had happened to Chen Jin, she would have been the most stressed.

“If you had come with your advisor, you definitely wouldn’t have taken that illegal car up the mountain. That black car was just unlucky; it flipped into a ditch halfway up the mountain! Look at you, you’ve been unconscious for three whole days and nights!” The advisor continued to chatter nervously.

Car accident… coma?

Chen Jin’s head buzzed, as if struck by a heavy hammer.

The chaotic, bloody, and bizarre images flooded his mind like a breached dam: the ruined Guesthouse, the strange pig butcher, the hallucinogenic scent, the ghostly girl in the dead of night, the deep pit suppressed by eight iron chains, the “Old Man Wu” writhing with fungal threads, and Wu Kai Ke… Where was Wu Kai Ke?

Every frame was so clear, so real. The sensation of being scorched by fire and the skin tearing from the explosion still clung to his skin, accompanied by a cold touch and suffocating fear.

Then… was all of that just a nightmare during a coma caused by a car accident?

“What… is the date today?” Chen Jin’s voice held an imperceptible tremor. His fingers clenched, deforming the paper cup. The water inside spilled out, soaking the hospital’s white blanket.

His advisor stated a date.

Chen Jin’s heart instantly sank to the bottom—it was exactly the second day after he had set off for Mengle Village!

In other words, from the moment he boarded that minibus, to the car accident and coma, and now waking up in the hospital, only a little over a day had passed. So, the bizarre events, the gods and Buddhas, and the cycle of life and death he experienced in Mengle Village—were all just a fantastical dream?

Those deeply ingrained fears, those moments of fighting side-by-side, and that person… who complicated his emotions—were they all just illusions fabricated by his injured brain?

A tremendous sense of absurdity and exhaustion washed over him, followed by throbbing pain from the various injuries sustained in the car accident all over his body. This only made him feel the reality of the current world more clearly.

Feeling utterly drained, Chen Jin opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a sound. The strength in his hand slackened, and the paper cup slipped from his palm, rolling onto the floor.

“What’s wrong? Are you still uncomfortable somewhere? A headache? We’ll call the doctor.” His advisor grew anxious again, seeing his pale face and vacant eyes.

Although this student usually kept to himself, he was diligent in his work and respectful of his teachers, so she naturally paid extra attention to him.

“Advisor, I’m fine…” Chen Jin forced a smile, trying to reassure her, but the resulting expression was worse than a frown.

“It’s over, that’s what matters! It’s over!” The advisor was impatient and not one for gentle, soothing words. “There were three people in the car, including the driver. You were the least injured, but you woke up the latest.”

Three people… There was a whole car full of people. The turmoil in Chen Jin’s heart refused to subside. He hesitated, then, with a tentative hope, asked softly, “Advisor, three people were rescued. Besides me and the driver… was the remaining person about my age?”

“Are you still confused from sleeping? It was an Elder Sister! She was sitting right next to you.” The advisor quickly came over to help him lie back down. “Rest some more. We’re not in a hurry to go back.”

“There was no one else?” Chen Jin was still struggling.

“Xiao Jin, what exactly are you trying to ask?” The advisor looked at her usually obedient student, who now seemed a bit neurotic, and, recalling his unfortunate background, felt a surge of pity.

Chen Jin’s advisor was indeed a sentimental old woman.

The last flicker of hope was like a candle in the wind, leaving only a wisp of smoke. Chen Jin’s heart felt gripped by a cold, large hand. Suffocating, dull pain spread throughout his body and limbs. A thousand-pound boulder seemed to press on his chest, making it impossible to take a breath.

Tears sprang from his eyes without warning, tracing paths down his still-healing cheeks, soaking the white pillowcase. It was the emptiness and despair left behind when something vital was completely ripped from his being.

“Oh dear! Xiao Jin, why are you crying? Are your wounds hurting? Or are you scared? It’s all over, it’s all over now!” The advisor immediately became flustered, handing him tissues and pressing the call button. The worry on the old woman’s face deepened.

“Oh my, don’t scare your advisor like this! Doctor, doctor!” The advisor rushed out the door with large strides.

Chen Jin snapped his eyes shut, tears streaming uncontrollably from the corners. He buried his face in the pillow, shutting out the outside world.

He needed time to process—to process this immense loss, and to bury the hazy illusion named Wu Zeng, who had only existed in his dream.

Half a month later, the new semester began, and Chen Jin returned to the familiar university campus.

His physical injuries had mostly healed, but the memory, like a brand, was hard to erase. The “dream” of Mengle Village still clung to him like a persistent disease, often reappearing in his mind unexpectedly.

At night, Chen Jin was often jolted awake by nightmares. He dreamt of the burning Mountain God Temple, the monster wrapped in fungal threads, and… Wu Zeng’s figure collapsing in a pool of blood, only muttering one phrase: “You weren’t willing to take me with you.”

During the day, Chen Jin became even more taciturn than before, often staring blankly out the window. His department colleagues assumed it was post-car accident trauma and treated him with extra care and tolerance, but this only made him feel more alienated. That bizarre world that had truly happened (at least to him) became a secret he couldn’t share, weighing heavily in the deepest part of his heart.

On the second day of the semester, his advisor informed him that a new roommate would be moving in, a first-year graduate student. Chen Jin didn’t feel much about it. After his previous roommate graduated, he had been living alone in the double room. One more or one less person didn’t matter much; he just hoped the person would be quiet.

Chen Jin was sitting at his desk, organizing materials for the next group meeting, when a light knock sounded on the dorm room door, followed immediately by the sound of the door opening.

“Hello, I’m the new guy, Wu Zeng.” A low, familiar, slightly smiling voice exploded in Chen Jin’s ears like thunder!

Chen Jin abruptly looked up. Silhouetted against the light from the doorway, he saw a tall, well-built man wearing a simple white T-shirt and black trousers. That face, with its sharp features and deep-set eyes, and skin that was still pale with a bluish tint—if this wasn’t Wu Zeng, who was it?!

Chen Jin was frozen in place as if under a spell, his pupils contracting violently. He stared intently at the person in the doorway, trying to see through him, repeatedly confirming whether this was yet another realistic hallucination.

Wu Zeng looked at his shocked, speechless expression, and a subtle smile flashed in his eyes. He casually closed the door, walked into the dorm, and naturally placed his luggage beside Chen Jin’s bed, his movements practiced as if rehearsed countless times.

“Don’t you recognize me?” Wu Zeng walked up to Chen Jin with a smile, leaning slightly closer. His gaze, filled with undisguised affection, probed Chen Jin’s rapidly trembling pupils. The world instantly became crystal clear.

“How did you…” Chen Jin’s voice was fragmented, filled with incredulous speechlessness. The sudden recovery of what he had lost robbed him of the ability to think, unsure whether to be shocked or overjoyed.

Wu Zeng reached out a hand, his fingertip gently brushing Chen Jin’s eye corner, which was slightly red from excitement and shock. “You took me with you.” His voice was low and gentle. The familiar scent of mint invaded his senses, carrying a seductive implication:

“You said you hoped we could leave together. See? It’s… realized now.”

Like peeling back layers, Chen Jin’s chaotic thoughts instantly cleared. During the great fire at the Mountain God Temple, he had indeed harbored a wish in his heart, though it wasn’t to leave together, but for the two of them to be together—but, it didn’t matter anymore.

A massive wave of euphoria and delayed sorrow surged over him like a tsunami. Chen Jin’s tears flowed uncontrollably again, but this time they were not tears of desperate emptiness, but of relief at the sudden recovery of what was lost.

Chen Jin couldn’t help but punch Wu Zeng lightly, then quickly wiped away his tears and lunged forward, hugging Wu Zeng tightly. Wu Zeng was slightly taller than him, and Chen Jin now clung to him like a koala, his shoulders shaking violently with sobs. He repeated incoherently, “It’s really you…”

Chen Jin’s arms were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, as if afraid that if he let go, everything would vanish again. He buried his face in Wu Zeng’s neck, tears and snot flowing uncontrollably, wetting Wu Zeng’s white shirt.

Wu Zeng chuckled, supporting Chen Jin’s backside with one hand and wrapping the other around his waist, pulling him into an even tighter embrace.

Wu Zeng rested his chin on the crown of Chen Jin’s head, feeling the real body temperature and intense emotional fluctuations of the person in his arms. Deep in his eyes, dark, ambiguous emotions churned—a satisfaction bordering on obsession and an inscrutable possessiveness.

“It’s me,” he whispered into Chen Jin’s ear, his breath warm. “I’m here.”

After a long separation and the joy of recovery, Chen Jin had no reason left to feel shy.

They embraced for a long time until Chen Jin’s emotions gradually calmed down. He let go, feeling a little embarrassed, but his eyes were bright and full of life.

They quickly tidied up. Wu Zeng didn’t have much luggage, and it was soon settled.

“Want to go for a walk?” Wu Zeng suggested.

“Okay.” Chen Jin kept glancing back at Wu Zeng, feeling a lightness and excitement he hadn’t experienced in over half a month.

They walked out of the dormitory building side by side. The afternoon sun illuminated most of the campus.

Walking next to Wu Zeng, Chen Jin secretly observed his real profile, feeling his tangible presence. Chen Jin even began to feel that the bizarre “dream” might have been meant only to lead him to the person beside him.

“That’s the lab building over there.” Just as Chen Jin turned his head to point it out, he failed to see the corner of Wu Zeng’s mouth, walking half a step ahead of him, slowly curl into an extremely strange arc—a smile that held no joy of reunion, only the satisfaction of a prey walking into its territory.

Wu Zeng silently moved his lips, uttering a few words: “We can… be together forever.”

A breeze blew, and as Wu Zeng walked, a small ornament hanging around his neck slipped out, gently swaying in the setting sun’s afterglow—it was a small, old kerosene lamp pendant, having endured long years, radiating a mysterious aura.

The kerosene lamp swayed slightly with his steps, then disappeared into the shadow of his collar, seen no more.

The tree-lined paths of the campus seemed endless. Who could know whether this seemingly routine return to normalcy was merely the entry into another, more elaborate, and harder-to-detect… “Infinite World”?