They believe that Zuan is where the losers live.

They certainly don't openly admit the idea, they show their white teeth, smile and pat us on the back, telling us that without Zaun there would be no Piltover today. Our sweatworkers! Our thriving trade! Our alchemy technology dismisses Mrs. Piltworth, but they never want it! Zaun is an important part of Piltover culture, they keep saying.

They can't fool anyone.

They think Zuan is a place of dementia. Only fools who can't climb the golden towers of Pi City will stay in Zu'an.

Like me.

I worked as a shimmer liquor dealer for a few months, just to save money to apply for the Herolan family's academic qualifications. I pored over all the books I could find in the gear factory that had long since been torn out. I made a prototype of a joint machine that could help patients with wrist fractures or arthritis regain mobility. I did everything I could to work as a student in Phi City. I even made it to the final part of the review: the opportunity to come face-to-face with Boswell Heloran.

They said it was a polite session. It's like welcoming me into the family.

He walked into the room, looked down at my haze-soaked clothes, and barely managed to squeeze out a laugh. He said, "I'm sorry, young man, we don't take gutter rats. ”

He didn't even sit down.

So I came back. Another idiot has been added to Zaun.

The haze rolled through the streets, welcoming me home warmly. The usual haze is quite thin, so you won't cough up sticky phlegm when you take a deep breath. But today is different, today is what we call a gray alert. Every breath makes your throat tight, your chest hot, and you don't see more than an arm's length. I wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to run. The haze seemed to be slowly closing in on me, trampling me under my feet and choking my mouth and nose.

At times like these, I pray to Jana.

Not everyone in Zuan believed that she really existed, but my mom always held on to her beliefs. She said that on the day I was born, there was a bluebird hovering in front of his window, and she knew it, and believed it, that it was Cana telling her that I would be fine.

Of course, she was wrong. In the end, something went wrong. A few years ago, my mom died in a gutter boxing match, and I raised myself with only a few silver wheels she left behind. Then there's the daily life of an orphan: not being able to make friends. Often bullied. The boy I love doesn't love me. Study hard, try to climb Piltover with your mind. Waste. Looks like Cana must have forgotten about me.

But I still kept the amulet my mother had given me: a wood carving depicting the blue bird she saw. I kept it just to face this kind of moment.

So I sat down on the wet floor, as I was too lazy to look for the bench, and then I took the bluebird amulet out of my shirt and began to speak to Jana.

Of course, I didn't say anything, and I didn't want the people around me to think I was a freak whose nerves had been burned by alchemical substances, but anyway, I started to tell her.

I don't ask her for anything. I just told her about what happened today, and what happened yesterday, and how I was afraid that I would never be worthy, that I would die in a knee-high gutter quagmire, that I would die like my mother and that I would die without leaving anything, that I wanted to run somewhere else from time to time, that I could breathe, that I could not be so afraid, that I would not want to cry all the time, how much I hated myself for crying because I was always easily stung, how I wanted to jump into the alchemical waste pool under the gutter, Reuniting with my mom, drowning in the deepest part, and letting the waste water fill my lungs so that it could all be over. I wish Jana all the best. I wish her happiness, wherever she is.

Then I felt a breeze caress my face. It was light, but I felt her for sure. Soon, the breeze began to ruffle my hair and float in front of me. The wind began to howl and pick up, and soon began to lift my coat into the air, and I felt as if I was in the middle of a storm.

The haze swirled in front of me, lifted above by an all-pervasive breeze. The haze gradually cleared, and I could even see the pedestrians in the Slow Terrace Square, who were also watching the wind sweep the haze into the distance.

The wind stopped.

The haze has lifted.

I can breathe.

It's not just a short gasp, but a deep breath that opens every alveolar and fills it with fresh, cool air. The curtain of haze was removed, and the bright sun shone into the towers of Phi Cheng.

I could clearly see the residents of Phi City above, who were looking down at us. Without the haze obscuring their view, they could see us directly from the proud arched bridges and balconies. I don't think they like what they see. No one wants to be constantly reminded that they live in the slums, and I see a lot of resentment in my eyes.

That's when I saw him again: Boswell Herolan. He was holding a piece of sweet cake and looking down at me again at the same angle. A look of disgust, exactly the same as it was at that time.

I was staring intently at that contemptuous face, not even noticing anyone behind me until she put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's fine." She said, I didn't need to look back to know it had to be her.

She squeezed my shoulders, then crossed her hands over my chest and hugged me tightly.

"It's going to be fine." She said.

A few strands of her hair hung down to my shoulders, and she smelled like a fragrance after a storm.

"It's probably not going well right now. You may not have a good time for a while. But that's okay, one day, when you don't expect it, in ways you didn't expect, you'll find happiness. She said. My face felt warm and moist, I don't know when I started to cry, but now I am as clear as a dark cloud, I hold her arms, she holds me, and reassures me over and over again, it's okay, she's here, everything will be fine.

I don't know how long she held me, but I saw everyone staring at me, from the Zhuan Terrace Square to the balcony of the home in Picheng.

Before I could say anything, she spoke, "Leave them alone. Take care of yourself. Do me a favor, okay? ”

I wanted to answer, but I could only nod vigorously.

"Thank you." As she spoke, she kissed my moist cheek and finally hugged me hard.

She got up and glided in front of me. For the first time in my life, I saw the real her—tall and elegant, and if she hadn't really hugged me just now, I would have thought I was seeing an illusion. I saw her long, pointed ears, her feet floating lightly above the ground, her hair fluttering in the still air, and her blue eyes.

Then she smiled at me, winked, and said, "You're going to love this next scene." ”

Then a sudden gust of wind blew by, and I had to cover my eyes in such a hurry. When I opened my eyes again, she was gone, but the wind didn't stop. Gale winds slammed upwards toward Piltover and the stunned inhabitants over there.

The gale howled and accelerated, and it was too late for the skinners to dodge, and the wind lifted the hem of their skirts and ruffled their hair. Boswell Herloran screamed in terror, and the wind pushed him over and fell off the balcony.

Seeing that he was about to fall to pieces, another gust of wind blew upwards towards him, and the speed of his fall immediately slowed down, as if the wind was guiding him to fall slowly. But if you just look at his performance, you still think he's dead. Although he was falling as fast as a slowly falling leaf, his screams never stopped. The voice is sharp and hoarse. Lose face.

His clothes flapped upwards against his face, and finally hovered inches above a puddle.

"I—" As soon as he spoke, the wind suddenly disappeared, and he squatted down in the puddle with a thud, and the dress suit on his body must have cost a lot, and it was all in vain. He barked like a reservoir dog, mixed with surprise, pain, and irritation, and slapped like an angry child. He tried to get up, but his feet slipped and he threw himself into the puddle again. If I had to tell the truth, he would have been an idiot.

I couldn't breathe with laughter.