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Night.

I woke up from my dream with the sound of a black cat in my ears.

I poked half of my eye out of the covers.

The cold roamed the house wantonly, and the wide open windows showed why this was happening. Ah, I seem to have forgotten to close the window before going to bed again.

This is quite a serious problem. But I'm not the one who was scared to death of the cold before my trip to the Holy City - now I'm a strong man with a pure wool quilt!

As long as I hid under the covers, the cold couldn't help me - but the black cat was watching me faintly over my head, and it made me panic.

Hiss –

I have some headaches. Well, maybe it's the cold.

I poked out half of my eyes again. The cold didn't notice me, and wandered around the house aimlessly, eating away at the remaining temperature in the stove, and scavenging away what little warmth was left.

The room began to tremble. It's scared.

I sighed, there is no way, it is better to solve it. Don't let the mistakes you make affect them and ignore them.

Retracting my head from the quilt, I hid in the quilt first, wrapped myself in the quilt, and then stood up from the bed with the quilt. The cold had apparently spotted me and was flying up and down around me.

However, it is clear that they can only swim outside the quilt, and they are completely unable to break through the solid defense line formed by the wool quilt. I walked to the window with a shudder, took a deep breath, pulled out an arm from the quilt, and quickly closed the window, and then a silky sliding shovel got rid of the cold that was entangled in me overhead, and slid directly to the fire, taking advantage of the cold to start a fire.

By the time the cold in the room reacted, the flames had already danced and slowly melted them.

Well, it should be fine now. I sat by the fire, waiting for the trembling room to calm down.

The cold in the house was partly thrown into the fire, and then it was extinguished. The other part was afraid of its hot temperature, so they hid in a cold corner. However, this does not shelter them, and the warmer room will eventually disperse them from any part of the house.

I leaned my back against the stove and waited quietly for all the cold in the room to disappear - the black cat didn't have so many worries, and fell asleep on the edge of the bed.

Is......

"Knock-"

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

It's so late, are there still passers-by rushing through the wasteland?

I looked at the clock. It's midnight.

I hesitated, looked at the oranges at hand and the flickering fire behind me, took a deep breath, and got up to open the door.

It's not that I'm afraid of ghosts or anything. There are still a lot of stories and legends about ghosts in the wasteland, but I've never come across them after living alone in the wasteland for so long. I think most of the ghosts people encounter in the wasteland should be ownerless shadows that flash by, or those things that they see after losing their shadows. Then people will be irrational when they are frightened, and irrational people will often think blindly, and after thinking blindly, they will exaggerate their memories and then tell others to add fuel and vinegar...... That's how the ghost story came out.

Behind the door, apparently, there was no ghost, just a passer-by who was still hurrying late at night. I knew him, the same lighthouse boy who handed me oranges on behalf of the fortune teller.

He was a little surprised when he saw me and obviously recognized me.

"It's you." "I used to sleep outside the door," he said...... I woke up when I noticed the room shaking, and the light peeked through the crack in the door, and I thought you were probably awake too, so I knocked on the door. Can you let me in and rest? ”

"Absolutely." I say.

I can't let you continue to sleep outside the door.

That's not true.

"Huang Ji told me about you." He walked into my cabin and closed the door. "But I didn't expect you to live here."

"Yellow chicken? What is that? I asked subconsciously.

"Huang Ji. Pole. He emphasized the pronunciation and seemed to take it seriously. It is the name of the lord of oranges. ”

Oh, the name of the fortune teller.

I'm not surprised that he "can have a name", and with his ability to "fight with evil gods", the rule of not having a name should be the same for him. Don't mention a name, even if he has hundreds of names, it should be fine.

Yellow pole. Is there any moral to it?

"What do you think of the world?" The lighthouse boy quietly observed the surrounding furnishings. His gaze lingered on the black cat for a few more moments.

"What do you think?" I untied the quilt from my body, otherwise it would have looked too funny.

"......" The lighthouse boy was silent for a moment, "How long have you been here?" ”

Here? Does it refer to the wasteland?

"Well, I don't remember much from a long time ago, but at least I've lived in the wasteland for a few years." I recalled. "The memories of the past are already very vague."

"I see." He hesitated for a moment and said, "Then what do you think of the world you live in?" ”

"The wasteland... It's okay. I thought for a while and said, "Life is quite comfortable, with the black cat, I am almost no danger, quite free, and have no quarrel with the world." ”

"That's not what I'm trying to say." The lighthouse boy looked at the black cat who had woken up and looked at him curiously: "You see, the black cat, the clock, the stove, the house, the machinery, even the sky and the earth, they are all like life, they have their own attitudes, they can speak, they can speak, they will have joys, sorrows, sorrows, and sorrows. Do you think this makes sense? ”

"Why is it unreasonable?" I wondered, "Hasn't it always been like this?" ”

While some things aren't, I think they're probably just "cold" and reluctant to move or express themselves. Light bulbs, for example, normally don't say a word, but if they are broken – they will scream or roar.

"It's always been that way, isn't it?" The lighthouse boy sighed: "In this world, dead things have a heartbeat and breathe instead of living things. Even in the daytime, there was a barren plain under the gray sky, and in the dead silence, the dead earth gave birth to the same dead things, which in turn formed robots, as if they were alive. This world is indeed too dark. ”

I listened to him quietly and didn't interject. I just thought to myself—this lighthouse boy probably hasn't entered the Source Realm.

"And in the sky, the sky full of holes is like a roof with a big hole, and the ice, snow and rain can enter it almost without any obstruction, just like you and me." "The world needs light so much, and it needs a real sun rising from the horizon to illuminate this dark world. ”

"And I, on the other hand, will be the lighthouse that shines in the dark night—to illuminate this shadow before ......the real sun comes," said the lighthouse boy, "and the lighthouse will dawn without staining the clothes in the long night." ”

Fortune teller - Huang Ji once seemed to say that this person seems to be very obsessed with a lighthouse and wants to become a lighthouse. At the time, I didn't quite understand what it was like to be a lighthouse, but now I can understand it.

As much as I would love to continue listening to his bizarre lighthouse speeches, I was sleepy and eyelids were fighting. The lighthouse boy also noticed this, and consciously stopped his infectious speech.

I invited the lighthouse boy to sleep in the bed, offering to divide half of his bed, but he refused, thinking he was more comfortable sleeping on the floor by the fire than on the bed.

I wanted to say something, but I had to let him go.

There's no way, I'm sleepy.

With the silhouette of the human-shaped hearth reflected on the wall, I quickly fell asleep again.

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