ASHES CH12: Ferry Ticket

Luo Zhi slept for a very long time this time.

He had many, many wonderful dreams.

He dreamed he was on a misty mountaintop painting the sunrise on a canvas. He dreamed he was sitting at the head of a bridge with a bright moon and flowing water, playing the guitar. He dreamed strangers passing by stopped, waved at him, and smiled.

In his dream, he raised a squirrel that bounced around between his shoulders and the top of his head. It was very shy; whenever it saw someone, it would whoosh into his collar.

Most of the dreams were about the sea. Luo Zhi had always loved the sea; it was so vast, so far, a sea with no end in sight. It felt as if as long as you kept walking, you would reach another world.

It was as if he had lived a fulfilling life in his dreams. When he woke up, he was so comfortable he didn’t want to move at all.

Luo Zhi fed himself a strawberry-flavored hard candy.

The sweet and sour fruity flavor bloomed on the tip of his tongue. Somehow, it instantly pulled out those incredibly warm scenes from his dreams. The images finally settled on the many faces he had imagined himself; they stopped, reached out to touch his head, helped him stand steady, and smiled gently at him.

…

Then a sudden, intense sourness he had never experienced before rushed up his nasal cavity, as if years and months of pounding had finally taken effect, creating a fatal crack at some point within his body.

Luo Zhi suddenly felt his eyes swelling hotly.

For about ten minutes or so, Luo Zhi suddenly completely lost control of his body.

It was like being paralyzed in a nightmare, or like returning to a certain moment in the hospital room. Without warning, Luo Zhi was switched to a distant, third-person perspective, blankly and unconsciously observing himself.

The transparent liquid that splashed into his eyes when he was playing with water at the sink was now pouring out in large drops. There was no need to manage it; every blink brought out even more moisture than before.

He saw his own body fall onto the floor, gasping heavily for breath. Not just his shoulders, back, hands, and feet, but even strands of his hair were shaking and trembling uncontrollably. It was like his back was being flayed alive and his tendons pulled out, or like a fish drowning in the air on land.

After about half an hour, control and sensation in his body were finally restored together and returned to Luo Zhi.

Luo Zhi touched his face and found it was completely wet, and his chest was still throbbing with pain.

Luo Zhi couldn’t help but laugh softly.

…What the heck.

Dropping tears just from a dream, you little water faucet.

Amused, Luo Zhi wiped his face and mercilessly mocked himself loudly in his head for a good while.

He checked carefully and confirmed that the piece of broken glass he clutched to his chest was safe and hadn’t been lost. After eating a candy, he didn’t feel as dizzy, so he propped himself against the floor and slowly sat up.

This time, his right leg could move too, although it was still a little numb and weak, but it wasn’t serious.

As he always said, he was tough to kill.

No matter what went wrong, as long as he closed his eyes, thought of nothing, and fell asleep, he would be fine.

If he couldn’t wake up… whatever.

Here he was, opening his eyes to a new day again.

Luo Zhi maintained his sitting position against the wall for a while. When he completely stopped feeling dizzy in this posture, he changed to kneeling while holding onto the bed, closing his eyes and patiently waiting for the spinning, stationary roller coaster to end.

Then he stood up bit by bit, touching his earlobe to give himself a super exaggerated compliment, humming an unknown tune he wrote randomly in his dream. He first stored the broken glass in the most secure compartment of his backpack before going to the bathroom to wash up.

While washing up, Luo Zhi conveniently took out his phone to take a look.

After leaving the hospital, Luo Zhi had broken his original SIM card. This current one was bought for a hundred bucks from a shady street stall at the end of a small alley that was bound to be shut down. He didn’t use an ID, so Ren Chenbai wouldn’t be able to trace him for a while.

…

But it wasn’t a very long-term solution. As long as he stayed in the city, his whereabouts would be dug up sooner or later.

Holding his toothbrush in his mouth, Luo Zhi looked at the pale, somewhat unfamiliar face in the mirror and suddenly froze.

…Who was Ren Chenbai again?

And who was this person in the mirror?

Why was he brushing his teeth?

This situation happened often these days. It seemed that his originally smoothly running thoughts would suddenly get stuck at some point, like a small stone thrown into perfectly meshing gears, and then his entire consciousness would suddenly go blank.

But he had a solution.

With practiced ease, Luo Zhi dug out his memo app and reviewed what was written on it. Once the small stone disappeared and his state returned to normal, he added the things he had just forgotten, item by item.

Standing in front of the sink, hugging his phone and typing into the memo app word by word, a few unread messages suddenly popped up at the top of the screen.

Luo Zhi tapped open the messages, and his eyes suddenly lit up.

There were replies to the script he had listed for resale.

What Luo Zhi wanted to resell was the script he had finally managed to bid on and prepared to give to Luo Cheng, which was almost ready for production.

Because it was a private gift he wanted to give to his little sister, it wasn’t put on the company account; it was all paid for with Luo Zhi’s own savings.

Also for this reason, the ownership of this script didn’t belong to Huaisheng Entertainment, but to Luo Zhi himself.

Luo Zhi’s asking price was a ferry ticket.

Not just any ordinary ferry ticket, but a super invincible luxury giant cruise ship ticket. Tickets were incredibly hard to snag; even though the price was staggeringly high, they sold out instantly every time they were released.

Luo Zhi had been coveting it for a long time. He originally wanted to splurge once and buy it for himself as a birthday present.

On the day the tickets were released, Luo Zhi had set a series of alarms. But just ten minutes before he, under the guise of a short meeting, abused his public power for private use and led the management of Huaisheng Entertainment to fiercely snatch tickets, he casually scrolled through his social media feed to relieve his nervousness.

In the final five minutes before ticket release, on his social media feed, Luo Zhi saw the script that Luo Cheng wanted no matter what.

…

The cruise ship would dock at the nearest port in a week. The next time it sailed this route would be next year.

Luo Zhi actually hadn’t held out much hope originally, just listing it to try his luck.

He didn’t expect someone to actually private message him.

It was as if he suddenly had an especially worthwhile goal to strive for again. No longer wandering aimlessly, he hurried to wash himself clean, changed his clothes, and sat formally at his desk.

When he clicked open the private chat interface, Luo Zhi’s heart was still a bit excited, thumping loudly in his chest.

Luo Zhi clicked on the first unread message. It was a very established studio, and the one contacting him was the head of script purchasing.

No ticket, but they promised to acquire the complete script at the original price he had bid for it.

Luo Zhi clicked on the second unread message. It was a fairly large film and television company, and the one contacting him was the head of the resources department.

No ticket, but a 10% transfer fee on top of the original price, and allowing him to retain recommendation rights for a non-major character.

Luo Zhi clicked on the third unread message. It was the manager of an unnamed artist. No ticket…

[Since you are willing to transfer the script, it shows that your side is not very well-off.]

Most managers had quite extensive connections, so it wasn’t hard to find out who the high-priced script belonged to. Every message sent seemed pointed: [There’s really no need to act out of spite.]

Luo Zhi sighed softly and put down his phone.

He had forgotten what he was doing again. He sat blankly at the desk for quite a while before remembering he wanted to trade the script for a ferry ticket.

What was there to advise him about?

He just wanted to go play on the ship.

Somewhat dazedly, Luo Zhi tapped the screen.

He lay on the desk, his arm supporting his chin, the other hand gently drawing circles on his phone.

Not knowing how many circles he drew, Luo Zhi finally put down his phone and got up to pack his things instead.

Probably because he had been thinking about things, this time he forgot to buffer first. He got up too quickly, his right leg gave way, and he fell completely.

Luo Zhi fell to the ground along with the chair, the back of the chair hitting his back heavily. Following that, Luo Zhi’s vision also blacked out without warning for a few minutes.

When his vision returned, many more messages had appeared on the phone that fell beside him.

[I suggest considering selling it, the price is negotiable.]

[Can exchange for other resources of equal value.]

[Can provide a public relations team.]

[Suggest thinking more about it, making long-term plans. The future is long.]

…

Luo Zhi suddenly picked up his phone.

His eyes were still softly curved, as if he didn’t know discomfort or pain. He indeed didn’t know. His fingertips nimbly and gently tapped the screen: [Not considering, not planning.]

The other side was clearly a bit stunned by this answer. When replying again, they almost forgot their business-like tone: [Why?]

Luo Zhi let out a soft “hmm”, thought about it, and pressed the phone to his forehead.

Why?

Probably just like how he secretly left the hospital without getting a full body checkup.

If this place doesn’t work out, then he’ll change to another place.

If that doesn’t work out, then he’ll change to another place again.

If nowhere works out, then he’ll go see what kind of world exists at the end of the sea, see what that world is like.

…

If it still doesn’t work out, then he really needs to rest.

Before dying, he really wanted to meet someone, someone who could smile at him, wave at him, and greet him properly.