Home!

"Father, I'd like to go home and see them." Rasma fell silent. Instinctively, he did not want to agree, yet he did not refuse aloud, nor did he raise a hand to stop him. He could already foresee the conversation and how events would unfold if he refused. On the surface, whether by virtue of his past status or present strength, Rasma commanded everything here. In truth, before this grandfather and grandson, he was in the pathetic position of a man stripped of his breeches, clutching a mere leaf for modesty. Both he and the church had acquiesced to the current state of affairs under Diss's "threat." Having already yielded ground, making a show of defiance now would be like standing at a podium to deliver an address while clutching one's crotch—nothing more than a laughingstock. Even so, yielding could take different forms. Rasma pointed a finger, and a black line appeared on the ground before Karen. "There is a balance in my heart, and for some time now, I haven't been able to make a true choice. I don't recommend you go back right now, but I can understand your request. "How about this: so long as you..." Before Rasma could finish, he watched Karen raise a foot, step right over the line, and remain inclined toward him in a respectful, slightly bowed posture. "Heh." Rasma chuckled and asked, "Do you know what I was about to say?" Karen glanced at the line he had just crossed and answered, "Likely a choice." "And you couldn't even be bothered to listen?" "Not at all. I simply believe that whatever final choice rests in your heart, My Lord, it will not change because of me. After all, back in my grandfather's era, you were the only person in our church capable of keeping pace with his footsteps." "Boy, your issue is very grave." "My Lord, my issue is very special." "Three hours." Rasma held up three fingers. "You have only three hours." "My Lord, that is a bit short." "The church team pursuing the assassin will arrive shortly. Them, I can stall. But that location of your family's home is far too sensitive. As I told you before, even I cannot contact the outside world from here; I can only read the newspapers on my own. "Since I've already made way and permitted you to go home, I have no reason to be stingy with time. Three hours is the limit. Beyond that, you must prepare to find certain gazes fixed upon you." "Thank you, My Lord." Karen bent down and scooped up Purr. Purr scrambled onto his shoulder, settled down, and said to Rasma, "Little Rasma, give us a ride home, won't you? Time is so tight. Could you save us the travel time?" Rasma pointed at his own face. "Am I being a little too accommodating?" Purr shook her head. "You said it yourself—you've got no reason to be stingy with our time." Rasma nodded, walked over, and placed a hand on Karen's shoulder. The next instant, starlight erupted beneath their feet. Karen felt the surrounding scenery shift at blistering speed—no slower than Lady Oji before, yet without the slightest physical pressure. Karen knew this was still far from Rasma's true speed. Before long, Rasma appeared on Mink Street with Karen in tow. "All right. Keep an eye on the time. Dawn is almost here." "Yes, My Lord." "If you can, urge your grandfather not to be stubborn any longer. Tell him to enter the temple." "My Lord, you know my grandfather well. Once he has made up his mind, could anyone ever sway him?" "Others couldn't, but you are different. Diss genuinely dotes on you. Besides..." Rasma looked at Purr perched on Karen's shoulder. "Two years. Two years from now, when I leave this place, the first thing I will likely do is come find you." "Thank you for your concern, My Lord." Rasma stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Karen, and whispered, "I will kill you with my own hands." Karen paused politely, then nodded to show he understood. Rasma held up two fingers, waving them before Karen. "If your grandfather stubbornly refuses to enter the temple and serve the great God of Order, then you, Karen, will have only two years left." *Phoo...* Karen let out a long breath and smiled faintly. "Thank you, My Lord. How wonderful to still have two peaceful years." "Good. Very good." Rasma's figure vanished on the spot. Yet he had not truly departed, for in the canopy of the sky, that colossal eye appeared once more. "Little Karen, don't be afraid of him." Purr reached out with two padded paws, hugging Karen's head. "Two years is at least enough time for me to briefly restore some strength, and enough for that stupid dog to recover a bit, too. And then there's you... You've only been away from home for half a year. Give you two more years, and who knows what will happen?" "No need to comfort me. I'm quite optimistic right now." "Oh, yes, I could tell from your chat with Little Rasma just now. Well, home is right in front of us. Let's go wake up Mason, Mary, Winnie, and all of them! Homecoming party, let's get it started!" Karen raised a hand and gently patted Purr's head. "Going home can also be quiet." Karen pushed open the courtyard gate and stepped inside. Once past the gate, he paused and hopped twice in place. *Pfft...* Purr snickered, glancing up at the great eye in the sky. When leaving home, Aunt Mary had insisted he take a spare set of house keys, though he certainly didn't have them on him now. But the front door wasn't locked from the inside; a simple turn of the handle opened it. A familiar scent lingered in the living room: the mourning hall, the mortuary slab, the sofa, and the brochure introducing caskets resting on the coffee table. He had been away for so long, yet home seemed exactly as it had always been. If his life were to be divided into chapters, then in this world, there was a stark line drawn between his time in Rojia and his time in Wien. Karen did not wake his family. Instead, he went quietly up the stairs to the second floor, walked into the kitchen, and casually cast a barrier over the doorway. Purr seemed to catch his drift and hopped down from his shoulder. Karen opened the refrigerator and took out ingredients. Because guests at funerals occasionally requested light meals, the household kept a fairly generous stock. After washing his hands thoroughly, Karen began mixing the filling and kneading dough. Thanks to his improved physical constitution, these tasks were noticeably swifter and easier now. The dull, rhythmic thuds of dough against the board filled Karen with quiet pleasure, his mind already painting the scene of his family eating together shortly. The dough needed a little time to rest. Karen stepped out of the kitchen and happened to spot the little bell he had once hung by the doorway, still dangling in place. He couldn't resist reaching out to touch it gently, longing to give it a tug, yet unwilling to let it make a sound. Next, Karen walked into Aunt Winnie's room. She was sound asleep. Karen's footsteps were faint, nearly soundless. As a captain in the Whip of Order's operational division, when he wished to avoid being noticed by ordinary folk, they had no hope of detecting him. After standing in his aunt's bedroom for a moment, Karen walked out and entered another room—the bedroom shared by Mina and Chris. Both girls were tucked under their quilts, fast asleep. It was a pity that this trip home was entirely unplanned, leaving him no opportunity to prepare gifts. Karen reached into the pockets of his clerical robes, finding only riels and point coupons. Point coupons were out of the question—ordinary people had no use for them. As for riels... though foreign currency in Ruilan, they could still be spent easily enough. After a moment's hesitation, Karen could only smile wryly and choose the simplest, most clumsy approach: slipping the thousand-odd riels in paper bills into the coat pockets of Mina and Chris hanging from the rack. At this moment, he truly felt like Santa Claus—and an exceptionally half-hearted one at that. Having placed the money, Karen stepped closer to take a closer look at his two younger cousins. Girls generally developed earlier than boys. Outgoing Mina and timid Chris had clearly changed quite a bit since he left. Leaving his cousins' room, Karen walked into his aunt and uncle's bedroom. Aunt Mary was lying alone in bed, dressed in pajamas. She slept on her side, legs clamped around the quilt, hands hugging her pillow, sprawled diagonally across the mattress at a forty-five-degree angle, with the audible sound of grinding teeth. It was hard to imagine that his aunt, so glamorous and striking by day, had such dreadful sleeping habits. No wonder she used to say she never held it against Mason for squandering the family fortune on failed investments, because he kept her thoroughly satisfied in bed. Back then, Karen had assumed she had simply misspoken or made an inappropriate joke with her nephew. Now it seemed he had overthought it. Watching his aunt suddenly roll over, reflexively kicking a leg out to the side while continuing to grind her teeth in slumber, he felt genuine admiration for his uncle. How Uncle Mason managed to look so spirited when rushing out in the hearse to snatch clients by day was truly a marvel. Still, had Uncle Mason not come home tonight? Karen felt a pang of disappointment at not seeing him. As he turned to leave, Karen noticed a rolling pin lying beneath the bed. He hadn't seen it in the kitchen earlier; so this was where it had gone. Why had Aunt Mary kept the rolling pin down here...? Karen picked it up, carried it out of the bedroom, returned it to the kitchen, and headed up to the third floor. Purr was lying on the third-floor windowsill—her favorite perch for the past century. Seeing Karen come up and open the door to his old bedroom, Purr couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Heh-heh. Karen, don't you feel like a wandering ghost that's drifted back home to visit his family?" After a moment's thought, Karen had to nod. "It really does feel that way." Walking into his old room, he found clean sheets and a fresh quilt neatly laid out on his bed, while Lunt was still asleep on his own spring bed. Karen walked over and gave Lunt's cheek a gentle pinch. His younger brother slept like a dead log; there was no worry of waking him. When Karen came out of his room and walked toward Diss's bedroom, Purr jumped down from the windowsill to follow. The moment Karen opened the door, Purr dashed in first and leaped onto the bed. An old man lay there, utterly still—so quiet one could scarcely hear his heartbeat or breathing. Yet it was this very old man who, through sheer individual might, had turned the entirety of Rojia, and indeed Ruilan, into a vacuum and a forbidden zone for the Church of Order's reach. Karen had imagined the scene of seeing Diss again countless times, but he had never expected himself to remain so calm. There were no tears, no emotional upheaval, no rush to seize Diss's hand and pour out all his experiences from the months away. On the bed, Purr stroked Diss's hair with her paws from time to time. Karen walked to the window, pushed it open, and then naturally fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, and held it between his lips. *Snap!* He lit it with a lighter. When he first woke up in this world, he had brought his previous life's smoking habit with him, though he had later quit. Now, it was truly because he felt there was nothing else to do; lighting one simply kept him from looking idle, whether standing or sitting. Exhaling smoke, Karen looked out the window. When he turned back, he looked once more at Diss's stern face on the bed, grave even in deep slumber. Then, Karen found himself smiling. Before coming home, his longing had churned endlessly in his heart like a pot of water boiled over countless times, naturally adding his fragile side into the mix. Once home, however, an involuntary reserve took hold. It was not an intentional distance or an attempt to act aloof, but an instinct—a desire to show only his strongest side to his family. Stubbing out the cigarette, Karen finally walked to his grandfather's bedside and simply looked at him. Though Diss's eyes were closed, Karen felt as though a pair of eyes was watching him in return. Purr did not look surprised in the least. Between male elders and younger men in a family, even if their hearts were filled with deep affection, sitting face-to-face an entire afternoon without exchanging more than three sentences was a common enough occurrence. "I'll head to the kitchen first." "All right, go ahead and get busy." Karen walked out of the bedroom calmly. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, he reflexively tilted his head back, blinking hard with his mouth open. Tears welled uncontrollably at the corners of his eyes, and his nose began to sting. *Hiss... hah...* Karen wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand, took a deep breath, and let out a silent laugh. Then he walked downstairs and entered the kitchen. First he rolled out noodles, then made wonton wrappers and wrapped a generous batch of little wontons. Bowls were lined up neatly, seasonings added to each, while a pot of broth simmered alongside. When the family woke, the noodles or wontons could be boiled, scooped into the bowls, and topped with a ladle of hot broth. Purr came down from upstairs and said to Karen, "I told Diss a lot about what you did after going to Wien. I'm sure he heard." "Mm." Karen nodded. "My, this trip home really felt like a dream." "Are you talking about me?" "I'm talking about myself, meow! Don't you feel that way?" "In dreams, and in the illusions others set for me, I've returned to this home many times. This time..." "Was the most real?" "No. It was the most peaceful at heart." "Mm, a fitting description. Huh, sounds like someone came into the courtyard, meow." Karen heard the commotion as well and dropped a bundle of noodles into the boiling pot. The person who returned didn't seem in a rush to come upstairs, busy with who-knew-what down below, which gave Karen ample time to finish cooking the noodles. He even added a fried egg. With that done, Karen washed his hands, scooped up Purr, and dissolved into a cloud of black mist, slipping away from the house. Shortly after, a patch of black mist gathered in the cemetery, and Karen stepped out from within. "I thought you would leave right away, seeing as the time agreed with Little Rasma is almost up." "Mm. Before leaving, I wanted to visit Mr. Hoffen... Grandpa Hoffen." "Heh-heh." Purr leaped onto Hoffen's tombstone with a grin, patting the stone slab. "Old Hoffen, did you hear that? An evil god is calling you grandpa!" Pausing, a teasing look surfaced on Purr's face, and she called out once more, "Hey, hey, Old Hoffen, did you hear that? The God of Order is calling you grandpa!" *** After parting ways with Karen, Rasma's figure reappeared inside the church. Mason was still frozen in place, glass raised high. Once Rasma sat down, Mason finally moved. "Come on, cheers!" "All right, cheers." Draining his glass, Mason let out a sharp gasp, rubbing his wrist. "Why is it so numb?" "Perhaps because we have been drinking for too long." "Too long?" Mason glanced at the wall clock and nearly jumped out of his skin in fright. "Good heavens! Damn it, how did we drink for this long?!" "It must be that my wine was too delicious, making you lose track of time, Mr. Mason." "Father, I must go home. I need to get home right away!" Mason bolted out of the church, completely forgetting he had driven the hearse there, and ran flat-out toward home. Fortunately, the house was close to the church, and he reached it in no time. Even so, Mason did not rush upstairs. Instead, he went to the garden spigot, rinsing his mouth repeatedly to wash away as much of the alcohol smell as possible. Then he scooped up some mud and smeared a bit across his clothes and face. "Something came up at the crematory and I went over to help. Paul and his wife bought me a late-night snack to thank me, and Paul and I shared a little drink to unwind." After speaking the excuse aloud, Mason savored it for a moment, then gave his verdict: "Reasonable. Completely reasonable." Preparations complete, Mason finally pushed open the front door, entered the house, and headed up to the second floor. His plan was to go to his bedroom to change, 'accidentally' waking his wife at just the right moment, followed by a tender line: *"Sorry, darling, did I wake you?"* Then, when she inevitably began to interrogate him in anger, he could trot out his excuse. Yet the moment he reached the second floor, a savory aroma drifted into his nose, and he spotted a steaming bowl of noodles sitting on the dining table. Mason sniffed, deeply touched. "Darling, you're so good to me, even making me breakfast..." He pulled out a chair and sat down. But after taking a single bite of the noodles, he froze entirely, the rims of his eyes reddening at once. "You're back?"