“Once upon a time, on a certain planet, a traveler who had been missing for a long time suddenly returned, bringing back a fruit. He warned the king not to eat it.”
“And then?” Hong Haocheng asked curiously.
The sound of a straw sucking came through, and the woman with long, soft hair draped over her shoulders lightly swayed the tips of her feet from across the table.
“People are always curious, you know. Figure out the rest of the story yourself.”
“Hey, if you’re going to tell a story, don’t cut it short. Have a little decency, will you?”
The beauty across the table grinned, glanced at the furious boy, and said, “Aren’t you a little old to love stories? Then guess what happened next?”
“So the king ate it?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Hong Haocheng drooped his head and asked, “What are you trying to tell me?”
The woman’s gaze shifted from the ad next door to Hong Haocheng.
“Many, many similar stories keep happening. For instance, in 1785, Louis XVI ordered a count to lead their navy on a voyage around the world, and they disappeared without a trace thereafter. Although two centuries later, the wreckage of their ships was discovered near the Solomon Islands, no trace of human bones was found.”
“Oh, hmm… that’s not right, there was no fruit.”
“I mean, stories like that traveler’s. The fruit is just a symbol! The real story is that, of course, no traveler ever returns.”
The woman handed the milk tea she was holding over to the boy, placing the straw in front of his lips.
Hong Haocheng turned his head away in disgust.
She took the milk tea back and continued biting the straw, saying:
“Back in the early 17th century, a young man named Thompson was granted a piece of land by the New England council. So his whole family started moving, but just three or four years later, he suddenly left that land and headed to an island, and no one has seen them since.”
“Maybe they just moved somewhere else.”
“Yeah, maybe the entire family moved to a place where their aunts, cousins, their family doctor, and tax collector could never find them. Isn’t that perfectly normal, right?”
Hong Haocheng rested his chin on his hand discontentedly: “You’re being sarcastic with me.”
“My hubby is so smart.”
“The movie’s over. Where to next?”
“I’ll follow wherever you go.”
“Hey, I’m the one who was kidnapped by you people,” Hong Haocheng suddenly stood up and shouted. “What do you mean by following me? I don’t even know what foreign place this is or what made-up language is being spoken. Watching some lousy movie without even subtitle translations, and you say follow me!”
The passersby in the surrounding mall all turned their heads to look this way in surprise, speaking a language he didn’t understand, resembling the dialects around Indonesia.
The woman looked up at the boy with a playful grin:
“We’re married now. Adults have to act like adults, you know. Don’t always yell at your wife so easily.”
“Who’s your husband? I’ve never even held your hand, you b*tch. I’m calling the police!”
“Go ahead, report me.” The woman tossed the phone onto the table. It rolled with a clatter. She pointed to a sign near the shop with a complaint hotline number on it.
“The unlock password for the phone is your birthday.”
Hong Haocheng’s eyes flickered. He snatched the phone from the table and started dialing the number.
“Help, SOS!”
After making the call, he ran over and handed the phone to the merchant.
“SOS, me! Will o’ the, will o’ the—”
Before long, two patrol cars with flashing red and blue lights stopped outside the mall. A few people in uniforms arrived, including both administrative and supervisory officers.
Hong Haocheng stepped forward with a tightly wound expression, only to be stunned as Feng Juguan, wearing a sheriff’s hat, descended from the vehicle behind. His uniform was conspicuously more refined.
“Xiao Cheng, you made the call?” Feng Juguan addressed casually to Hong Haocheng, who was surrounded by several officers.
Hong Haocheng, phone in hand, turned his head in a daze toward the woman on the small table outside the milk tea shop, who was watching him with a grin.
He pointed at the woman with a trembling finger.
The woman also stepped forward: “My little hubby said he wanted to look around a bit. Might as well ride in your car, then.”
“I never said that!”
“Brother Feng, take us out to see the world. Also, we’re planning to continue our world tour for the next while. Besides the submarine, please prepare an airplane, a ship, a yacht for us—well, cars go without saying, and also equip us with two guns.”
“I’ll arrange everything.”
The boy stared blankly as they packed up and left. The woman’s smooth, soft palm touched his hand, and she smiled as she gently took his phone.
“It’ll be the end of the month in a couple of days. Let’s start our real honeymoon.”
“You monster!”
……
……
{Soft and fragrant.}
Yang Zicang lay in the soft bed. A faint, sharp yet sweet sound of conversation echoed faintly in his mind.
{Soft and fragrant big bed, so cozy.}
{There’s Grain Tooth inside.}
{And Little Qingqing, too.}
The young man felt something wiggling under the quilt. Somewhat annoyed, he opened his eyes to look—only to spot a little elf playing with the loose thread under the covers.
Seeing Yang Zicang staring at him, he looked back with wide, blinking eyes, then went back to tugging the thread.
“You? Little Smug Pants.”
{You’re finally awake. Someone wanted to see you, so we came over.}
On the back of the chair by the mirror, Grain Tooth instantly appeared on top of the quilt over Yang Zicang’s chest.
{Delivering a letter.} Cold mumbled from under the covers.
“Who’s looking for me?”
Yang Zicang looked around, confused and unsure of the situation. Two more little creatures were in the room, checking themselves in the mirror.
He recalled what had happened last night, then nervously felt his chest—the Invisibility Orb was gone! This almost made Yang Zicang jump up.
Li Li Ya seemed to know what Yang Zicang was worried about; she waved her fly-leg-like pen tip and said,
{Your team leader said the fruit that teaches invisibility was taken and kept by him for now.}
“Fruit?” Yang Zicang glanced at the little sprite. Since it was in Morrie’s keeping, it should be fine.
He raised his head and snorted, “Which one of you was it last night?”
{Little Sour-Sour is catching up on sleep; she said the role-playing game was too fun.}
A few black lines ran down Yang Zicang’s forehead. Then it occurred to him—these little fellows were probably here because of the “Lost Illusion Company”!
Finally coming, huh!
Yang Zicang’s nose suddenly twitched. Only then did he take a look at this stone room; a faint scent lingered, and there was a vanity table by the head of the bed, clearly a lady’s bedroom.
“This… where is this?”
Before he could ponder further, a flicker of light flashed in the floral-scented bedroom. Energy condensed in the air into a blurry mass of mist, with lines of light seeming to flicker and converge within.
A deep, solemn voice rang out.
“Hello, Mr. Yang Zicang. We are the Lost Illusion Company, Starlight Illusion.”
Inside the mist, subtle electric currents vibrated, even friction-sparking sounds like a radio station.
“In recognition of the Elector Yang Zicang’s contributions to clearing the disaster in the Lost Frequency Lands, [Starlight Illusion] hereby extends an invitation for you to join our company as an employee.”
“Starlight Illusion? Are there other Illusion companies?”
“Indeed. Different Lost Illusion companies are responsible for different tasks. The primary responsibility of our company is what interests you—the creation and distribution of the Monthly Interlaced Scenes.”
The young man lying in bed began to ponder.
Yang Zicang had no idea which Lost Illusion company housed the “Old World Document Repository,” and it seemed even the so-called “Forward March Squad” lacked further intelligence on this matter.
Or perhaps, each Lost Illusion company had its own repository of documents?
“Our company provides room and board with favorable benefits,” the rustling within the misty mass continued. “If you join, you will receive an ‘Upgraded Frequency’ device.”
Yang Zicang was taken aback, and he immediately sat up from his bedding.
Cricketly.
The lifted covers—threads tearing out a long stretch, pulling open a slit in the sewn stitches of the quilt’s inner lining.
The boy sprite tugging the thread abruptly changed expression, entirely unsteady compared to his calm when struck by lightning.
{It’s getting late, Shuai Shuai Qiang must return.}
The little creature muttered to himself and then shot out of the window in a whoosh.
Yang Zicang cast a glance at him, then was drawn by the cloud of mist.
“If I join your company, can I leave at any time?” he confirmed.
As for the contents of the manual, Yang Zicang dared not fully believe it anymore, as it must have been outdated intelligence from a long time ago. He had nearly been crushed to death by that Director Xiao’s finger just moments ago for lightly trusting the information inside.
“Yes, you can. The director has authorized that once you join our company and render meritorious service, you will receive a special reward—a 【Model Frequency-Boosting Device】.”
So it wasn’t something instantly obtainable; Yang Zicang felt a slight disappointment.
A few small clusters of light departed, and the mist dissipated with them, leaving an admission ticket falling before him.
【Lost Illusion Company, Special Invitation to Starlight Illusion.】
【Invitee: Elector Yang Zicang.】
Yang Zicang picked up the invitation, which displayed a countdown for usage: 4.0359R.
[I know that to enter, I need to have the big star take me to the company headquarters within a hundred hours.]
Knock, knock, knock.
The door sounded a few times, followed by a gentle voice from outside: “Mr. Zicang, are you awake? I heard you talking; I’m coming in now.”
“Just woke up, please come in.”
Yang Zicang turned his head to see the bedroom door pushed open, revealing Xu Aiyuan’s graceful figure. Behind her stood a girl craning her neck—the same one who had contacted him earlier.
“Are you still feeling unwell?”
“I’ve made the Rose Queen—ah, Miss Aiyuan—witness my embarrassing state.”
Yang Zicang looked down at the handmade quilt; it had been a long time since he had rested in such a homely place.
At that moment, it made him feel warmth.
Seeing him in such a state, the girl outside pouted and said, “What are you looking at? Our Rose Sister stayed up all night in the hall, not getting any rest.”
His clothes were still on. Yang Zicang let out a complicated sigh, lifted the corner of the quilt to get out of bed, and the torn gap burst open with a swoosh, the air puffing up between the cotton batting and the sheet.
All three of them were stunned for a moment.
The girl at the door said angrily, “How did you tear the quilt while sleeping? Rose Sister sewed it by hand.”
“Huh?”
Yang Zicang looked around; the little clusters of light were long gone.
“This… What if I say the little reporter did it? Would you believe me?”
“……”
“Mr. Zicang is joking.”
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