ASHES CH11: Glass

Ren Chenbai raised an eyebrow.

He originally hadn’t thought much of it, but being reminded by the other party made him recall that before leaving last night, Luo Zhi’s behavior in the hospital room did seem a bit unusual.

…

It was so unusual that during that hysterical, out-of-control, crazed interrogation, from beginning to end, it had just been Ren Chenbai’s own embarrassing and absurd one-man show.

Luo Zhi was unexpectedly calm, as if entirely immersed in his own world.

It wasn’t until Ren Chenbai grabbed him by the collar that Luo Zhi finally seemed to notice, slowly lifting his eyes to look at him.

Luo Zhi looked at him, but there was nothing in his eyes. The light in his pupils was scattered; his focus seemed to land in a much more ethereal, intangible place, or perhaps he was looking at some shadow that Ren Chenbai had long since discarded like worn-out shoes.

After looking for a long time, those eyes curved softly. Before a very faint, light smile could reach his brow and lashes, his gaze settled on Ren Chenbai’s face, as if just waking up.

Then Luo Zhi averted his eyes, never looking at him again.

After that, no matter what Ren Chenbai said, Luo Zhi just lowered his head as if he hadn’t heard anything.

His pitch-black, thick eyelashes fluttered once, then again, before slowly drooping down as if unable to bear the weight.

Luo Zhi never looked at him again.

…

After returning from the hospital, Ren Chenbai couldn’t fall back asleep, and the entire following day was equally frustrating.

He entirely blamed this frustration on the regret triggered by accidentally destroying his mother’s belongings—a responsibility easily pinned on Luo Zhi.

If Luo Zhi hadn’t hidden from Ren Chenbai, hadn’t escaped into the car, Ren Chenbai wouldn’t have had the chance to destroy it.

If Luo Zhi hadn’t hidden this matter so tightly, Ren Chenbai could have known earlier whose car it was, and of course, he wouldn’t have laid a hand on it.

See, no wonder the Luo family pinned every fault on Luo Zhi.

It was an incredibly relaxing experience, able to circumvent all worries and self-blame. The only thing required was to hate Luo Zhi.

It was too easy to hate Luo Zhi.

Ren Chenbai gathered his thoughts.

He recalled the scene from last night, and combining it with the doctor’s reminder, he realized that at that time, Luo Zhi probably couldn’t hear anymore.

Ren Chenbai nodded and asked, “And then?”

The doctor on duty couldn’t help but freeze.

This private hospital was a property of the Ren family. Many people actually knew that Ren Chenbai wasn’t as blindly gentle and kind as the outside world believed.

They had seen Mr. Ren sitting by his mother’s sickbed, carefully peeling an apple while casually and calmly giving orders to “cancel such-and-such partnership,” “fire such-and-such derelict department manager,” or “eliminate such-and-such redundant department.”

When giving those orders, Ren Chenbai’s tone was no different from now.

Very calm and detached, tapping the chessboard against a piece that was already cornered, perhaps even with a faint interest of a bystander who had nothing to do with it.

He couldn’t hear anymore.

And then?

The doctor on duty naturally understood Ren Chenbai’s attitude. He shook his head, kept his mouth shut tight, and retreated to the corner of the elevator.

With a ding, the elevator stopped at the top floor.

Ren Chenbai didn’t pause. Once the doors opened, he walked straight out.

…

Luo Zhi locked the door of the inn.

He put his hands under the sink faucet, squeezed out some hand sanitizer, and repeatedly washed the oil and grease clinging to his hands.

Cold, clean water flowed over his hands, hitting his fingers and splashing white droplets.

Luo Zhi’s eyes widened slightly.

He curiously touched the water back and forth with his hand, as if seeing this kind of thing for the first time. Some droplets splashed onto his eyelashes, and he instinctively blinked to dodge. The icy water made him shiver slightly, and then it flowed into his eyes and started burning, making his eyes hurt so much.

Thinking this, Luo Zhi said it out loud: “It hurts so much.”

He couldn’t hear his own voice, so he didn’t know that the only sound he made was the sound of airflow, but it didn’t matter, he dubbed it himself in his head.

“It hurts so much, it hurts so much.” Luo Zhi suddenly liked this game. It was as if he had just learned a new word, repeating it while running his hand through the water stream back and forth, laughing as he dodged the water he was splashing.

The water in this area was groundwater, so cold it felt like thousands of needles piercing into the bones. Because he played with the water without knowing when to stop, those beautiful fingers that had already been washed clean quickly became blue, pale, and stiff from the cold.

Luo Zhi didn’t know how much water got into his eyes either. He rubbed his eyes vigorously. The cold hands felt very comfortable against his forehead, so he turned off the faucet and used both hands to ice his face back and forth.

After playing with himself like this for a long time, and waiting until his hands were mostly dry, he finally took out his phone and opened the memo app.

In the memo, there was a brief note Luo Zhi left for himself, explaining why he was here and what he was doing here.

This was the inn closest to the scrapyard.

His car had been scrapped, and he came here to find the remains of his car.

Ren Chenbai’s arrangements wouldn’t have any loopholes; his car must have been thoroughly and completely destroyed. But Young Master Ren was born privileged and didn’t understand how people working at the bottom made a living.

His car was so amazing; the dismantled parts were worth a lot of money.

The doors, glass, rearview mirrors, wheel hubs… Who knows what else might not have been sold off, left lying in the ruin-filled lot. As long as you slipped the guard a few hundred bucks and a carton of cigarettes, you could go in and dig around for as long as you wanted.

Luo Zhi walked out of the bathroom with his phone, sat on the sofa, and hung his head, staring at the note that was less than a page long for a long time.

He spent some time trying to remember who Ren Chenbai was.

He didn’t know why, but his brain had been working a bit slowly recently. Large blank spots would often appear without warning, and sometimes he couldn’t even remember things that happened right before or after the current moment.

Just like now, Luo Zhi spent a considerable amount of time thinking about why his car was scrapped, who scrapped it, and what else happened besides this.

…

By the time he found the answers to all these questions, the sky outside had darkened again.

Luo Zhi maintained his previous posture, sitting on the sofa.

He had answered his last question and was about to stand up when he was suddenly seized by a sharp, burning pain, lost all his strength, and fell heavily back.

It came from his stomach.

This meant he needed to eat.

This time, it only took Luo Zhi a second to figure out the answer. He was very satisfied with himself, raising his hand and lightly pinching his own earlobe.

This was Auntie Ren’s gesture of praising him.

Whenever little Luo Zhi got really good grades, achieved something amazing in another field he was interested in, or managed to haltingly play the entire song “Two Tigers” on the guitar… Auntie Ren would do this, touching little Luo Zhi’s earlobe, smiling, and giving him incredibly exaggerated praise.

Luo Zhi selected a highlighted and treasured memory, hit play on automatic loop in his mind, and pursed his lips, listening to Auntie Ren’s exaggerated, sky-high praises.

Not being able to hear outside sounds had one very obvious advantage: whenever this happened, the voices in his head became incredibly clear, so clear they almost seemed real.

This was too comfortable; he didn’t have to be bothered by noise outside, and he could listen to whatever he wanted.

Luo Zhi was very satisfied with his current situation. Pressing one hand to his stomach, he used the slowest speed possible to hold onto the sofa and stand up bit by bit. He walked to the other end of the sofa, opened his backpack, and took out a packet of instant noodles.

He tore open the packaging, broke off a piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly.

Eating too fast hurt the stomach, so he had to chew carefully and swallow slowly, eating bit by bit, and remember to drink water when it was dry.

After finishing this whole process, he actually didn’t pass out, nor did he throw up the food.

Perfect, ten bonus points.

Luo Zhi touched his earlobe again.

He performed so well today that he was feeling a bit lightheaded. The voice of Auntie Ren in his memory coaxed him, her praise getting more and more outrageous.

“Little Spark is so cool!”

“Little Spark is amazing; ordinary people definitely couldn’t do that.”

“Little Spark is so cute; anyone who sees you will definitely like you, and if they don’t, it’s their problem.”

“Little Spark is such a good boy.”

In a moment of happiness, Luo Zhi finished the whole packet of instant noodles.

He supplemented with two pieces of milk candy, drank a few mouthfuls of water, dug out the portable blood glucose meter from his backpack, disinfected it, and tested his blood sugar.

Luo Zhi checked against the chart and flashed a peace sign.

He was super healthy.

Luo Zhi put down the blood glucose meter, stood up in the pitch-black room, and went to the bathroom to take a shower and wash up.

On the first day he ran out of the hospital, he forgot to test his blood sugar and forgot to eat. While taking a shower, he felt dizzier and dizzier and accidentally fell asleep.

The cleaning lady thought there was no one in the room. When she came to clean the bathroom, she found Luo Zhi unconscious on the floor and was so scared she almost called the police.

After that chaotic experience, Luo Zhi summarized new life experiences and was now getting more and more skilled.

While showering, Luo Zhi washed his clothes as well. He changed into a newly bought oversized T-shirt as pajamas, hummed a silent song with his toothbrush in his mouth, and hung up the clean clothes.

After finishing this, he turned the desk lamp up just a tiny bit, and like a treasure, he opened his palm to carefully examine today’s harvest under the light.

He had found a small piece of color-changing glass.

Only his car would use such cool color-changing glass. A corner must have accidentally broken off during dismantling and resale, mixing into the ground full of dark brown gravel. It had only taken him over forty hours to find it.

Luo Zhi had ground down the sharp edges of the glass little by little on the ground, and after coming back, he had washed it repeatedly. That small piece of broken glass lay sparkling in his palm.

It was enough.

Today was the third day since he escaped from the hospital.

He had already found what he wanted, so he should leave here tomorrow.

He’d go to a new place and start a new life where no one knew him. He wouldn’t be called Luo Zhi anymore; who names a child “Zhi” anyway?

He didn’t like Luo either. He really wanted to take Auntie Ren’s surname, but thinking of Ren Chenbai made him feel tired of it.

Then he’ll be called Spark.

The more Luo Zhi thought about it, the more satisfied he felt, proudly imagining that scene in his head for a while.

Wearing a pendant made of color-changing glass, carrying his guitar and drawing board on his back, he would wander the world. When he met anyone who dared to question him, he would introduce himself righteously.

“So what if I can’t hear, I can still sing.”

“So what, am I not allowed to have the surname Huo (Fire)?”

“So what, just because I don’t have a home doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to live a good life.”

…

Just thinking about it made Luo Zhi feel so incredibly light. He rolled over on the bed, and his head accidentally went “thump” against the wall. His consciousness was violently yanked in by the suddenly churning dizziness, and everything before his eyes suddenly went dark.

That piece of glass slipped through his fingers.

Luo Zhi’s breath hitched. Without a second thought, he tumbled off the bed, groped around but couldn’t find it, and quickly turned on all the lights.

He was so dizzy he could barely stand. His heartbeat was erratically fast and slow, as if a hand was gripping his heart, randomly squeezing it lightly then heavily.

But it didn’t matter; this kind of thing wasn’t important.

Luo Zhi turned on his phone’s flashlight as well. He shone it over every inch of the floor until he finally found that small piece of glass in the most inconspicuous corner at the foot of the bed. Only when he clutched it tightly in his palm did he finally let out a sigh of relief.

Only then did Luo Zhi realize he was constantly sweating cold sweat, his body so weak he couldn’t stand up.

He noticed his right hand was shaking uncontrollably, so he had to use his other hand to hold it tight, then lean his body against the bed and press his arm down firmly as well.

“How can you run around randomly?” Luo Zhi stretched out a finger and poked the piece of glass over and over, scolding it with breathy sounds he couldn’t hear himself, “You are my home, don’t you know?”

The glass had probably realized its mistake, lying obediently in his palm, not talking back.

Luo Zhi closed his eyes in satisfaction, rested for a while, and began to reflect on whether he had been too fierce. Opening his eyes, he apologized in a soft, gentle voice.

“I know I was wrong, I shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum.” Luo Zhi quietly negotiated, “Let me come home, okay?”

The glass must have softened its heart.

Luo Zhi didn’t care. Anyway, this was a little play he wrote for his own amusement. He was the director, and whatever he said went.

It definitely softened its heart; how could it not let him go home over such a small matter?

When his head wasn’t too dizzy anymore, Luo Zhi held onto the edge of the bed and slowly tried to push himself up.

He was really looking forward to his new life.

Even though it hadn’t completely started yet, he could almost imagine himself taking his home and wandering freely and dashingly to the ends of the earth.

Luo Zhi stood a few times but couldn’t stand up. He looked at his two legs in some confusion, pushed again, and this time his left leg successfully exerted force, but his right leg was still limp and unmoving.

Ah, whatever.

It would be fine after he went to sleep and woke up anyway.

Luo Zhi apologized to the inn in his heart. He pulled the blanket off the bed bit by bit, grabbed a pillow for himself, bundled himself into a ball, and lay on the floor.

So nice.

Clutching that piece of glass warmed by his body temperature, Luo Zhi hid his hand against his chest, curled himself up completely, and closed his eyes in a satisfied smile.

The moon was bright, the wind was quiet.

He was so happy.