WS - Chapter 99
Chapter 99
The embarrassment that could not be rewound, the grievances that could not be spoken, the restless stirrings that could not be set down—from her heart, rising to her eyes, spreading and blurring into that person's clothes, as if everything was silently passed across like this.
Silent, but not entirely soundless.
Clenching her fists, pressing her lips tight, being softly patted on the back, yet still unable to fully suppress the tiny sobs.
Beneath those slight movements, the rustling of hand against cloth, body against blanket—since neither of them was asleep and the sound had not been muted—could also be heard.
The night grew deep; viewers who still lingered at the StarNet livestream window watching the mosaic and sending danmaku, naturally would not miss these faint sounds.
"Is someone... crying?"
"I heard it too... was that a few sobs? Very, very faint."
"??? Who is it!"
"No need to ask... does my Sister Song look like someone who would cry?"
"Maybe Song Shiyue was putting on a brave face when she went to throw away the bats, and now that she's done and back in the tent, she's crying—from a Little Ice Bucket putting up a desperate resistance"
"Hahaha, the one above might as well say Song Shiyue's reflexes are slow."
"That works too, the slow-reflex Song Shiyue is crying—from a Little Ice Bucket who won't admit defeat"
"Alright little hot water bottles, just admit it, your little ice block has melted..."
"Probably still terrified, I felt like earlier a few of them even slammed into Yu Nianbing's tent wall."
"My heart aches for Little Ice Block... this show is really terrifying! So why did she even come on such a torturous show!"
"Speaking of the tent wall, is there still any expert who hasn't fallen asleep and can calculate the relationship between the mosaic coverage area and the tent bottom? I keep feeling like that tiny gap at the bottom of the tent has something fishy going on! It's driving me crazy!"
"Friends... can I weakly say something? Actually this soft sobbing sound, paired with those even softer fabric rustling sounds... could it be that you guys can't think of any possibilities other than someone crying?—from a Little Mooncake cautiously preparing to move the water meter outside the door"
"???"
"!!!"
"Wait! I've only been shipping this CP for a few days and we're already driving cars?"
"Little Mooncake above, let me tell you, even if you have no water meter or electric meter at home, someone will still knock on your door!"
"What to do... after that cautious (actually not) Little Mooncake said that, my imagination ran wild... can't stop..."
"It's really thrilling... my imagination is overheating. No, I'm going to go drink some cold water."
"As a veteran Little Ice Bucket, just now when I heard Little Ice Block crying, my heart ached, but now... it aches even more."
"That kind of pain that's aching yet hot, sweet yet sour? (I know, uuuu)"
"Right..."
......
Who can see whose happiness.
And who can properly tuck away whose unhappiness.
In this world, meeting someone is truly too difficult.
And meeting the right person is simply like winning the lottery.
As a Strength-Type Ability User, Song Shiyue's control over her power was already exquisitely refined. Yet at this moment, that hand patting Yu Nianbing's back couldn't help but keep becoming lighter and lighter, until she didn't even know where to settle it.
Was it fear of that swarm? Was it embarrassment over what she just touched on herself? Or was it something else?
Song Shiyue racked her brains, thinking so hard her head ached, but still didn't understand where Yu Nianbing's tear-point was, and at this moment, a large patch of her chest clothes was wet.
But this was a twenty-four-hour livestream, and the audio was still being picked up. Song Shiyue wasn't sure if Yu Nianbing wanted the viewers to know she was crying—probably... not.
Some words could not be asked, could not be said.
But the comfort written down—she didn't know if Yu Nianbing had properly sensed it...
Song Shiyue's heart was filled with confusion; what she would never imagine was that the comfort she had painstakingly traced stroke by stroke on Yu Nianbing's back was precisely the final prod that poked Yu Nianbing's tear-point.
Don't know how much time passed.
It seemed... this dark night had stretched on for many days and nights.
The person in her embrace gradually steadied her breathing, and that large wet patch on Song Shiyue, from shoulder to chest, had also gone from hot to warm and was beginning to turn cool.
Incredibly, Yu Nianbing had cried and cried until she fell asleep. Asleep, her hand was still gripping the hem of Song Shiyue's clothes, and her face was pressed tight against Song Shiyue's collarbone.
Wearing wet clothes like this was really uncomfortable. Especially with this person in her arms breathing right next to the wet fabric—it was somewhat cold.
Song Shiyue thought about getting up to dry by the fire outside, tossing in a few thin sticks, casually leaning close to dry it—a matter of minutes. But as soon as she moved, the person in her arms twisted, seeming very uncomfortable. Move again, and the hem below was tugged, nearly strangling Song Shiyue's neck.
As expected, someone who's asleep gets really clingy...
Song Shiyue thought of the previous night when the hem of her clothes had almost been crumpled to pieces, and smiled and shook her head.
She couldn't get away, but she also couldn't just let it be, with the fellow in her arms' face pressed against wet cloth the whole time.
Song Shiyue looked at the person in her arms with red-rimmed eyes and a furrowed brow, steeled her heart, wrapped one arm around her, propped herself up with the other, and with that turned them both over.
Such a forced turn was naturally uncomfortable.
Yu Nianbing knit her brows and let out a whimper, looking as if she was about to wake, but Song Shiyue, who had successfully flipped from lying near the tent door to lying against the inner side, like a practiced hand, smoothly scooped her back into her embrace.
Holding, patting; Yu Nianbing pouted, her brows gradually relaxing, but she didn't wake.
Without someone breathing on the wet clothes, Song Shiyue finally felt a bit better.
It was just...
Song Shiyue's gaze traced down from the red, slightly swollen eyes and brows of the person in her arms...
Quickly, Song Shiyue gave a slight shiver, averted her gaze in a flash, and looked at the tent wall beside her, her hand even more conspicuously pulling the person more into her embrace.
Yu Nianbing, who had been lying on her side slightly tilted upward, was pulled so that she rolled further into Song Shiyue's arms, instead ending up on her side facing downwards.
Cream white... really very thin...
Even though Song Shiyue tried hard to restrain herself from thinking about it, the cream white undergarment inside the T-shirt whose torn collar had been pulled open again by the flipping over, still lingered in her mind for a long time.
How could it... be that thin...
She felt as if she could even see the faintly discernible... color inside.
Could she actually see it? Or was it just her dazed imagination?
Song Shiyue almost lowered her head to look again, but stopped her gaze in time.
Forcing her eyes to fix on a certain point on the tent wall, Song Shiyue thoroughly condemned her own behavior of almost knowingly committing an offense.
How could she act like this?
How could she take advantage of someone while they were sleeping?
Look at how much this person trusts you! She didn't mind that you once confessed, didn't mind the improper thoughts you might harbor, and was still willing to believe in you, to sleep in the same nest and bed with you, even sharing the same blanket!
And you?
What are you trying to do?
Just now, were you trying to look at her...
No!
Not at all! I was just a little curious how thin it really is!
Song Shiyue couldn't stand the voice of moral condemnation in her mind, and couldn't help reaching up to slap her own face, wanting to cut off that voice.
With a smack, like swatting a mosquito.
Hearing the sound, Yu Nianbing, as if her sleep had been disturbed, twisted her body a little in displeasure.
Song Shiyue instinctively looked down to see if Yu Nianbing had woken.
In the end, the person hadn't woken.
But that collar, which no one knew how Yu Nianbing had torn into that state, and the whole torn piece of fabric were now wide open.
Cream white, really thin.
The right size, exactly a handful, and it seemed... indeed a bit see-through...
Song Shiyue couldn't help thinking about Earth, back when there was still peace, when she was still little. Before New Year's, according to custom, every household would steam mantou and baozi in advance. Because there were so many types steamed at once, just looking for pleats or smooth surfaces wasn't enough to distinguish all the fillings. So they would use the tip of a chopstick dipped in red food coloring to dot the steamed buns.
In all those years, what Song Shiyue loved most was the smooth one with a little red dot, the shredded radish mantou.
Finely shredded radish, mixed with pork and lard cracklings, fragrant and not greasy, most crave-worthy.
Back then, they were still large steamer baskets; when a basket of buns came out, it was full to the brim. Fresh out of the steamer, the white steam was so hot it stung the eyes.
The young Song Shiyue back then was so greedy she couldn't wait for the steam to dissipate, and would crouch by the steamer, hurriedly checking if there were any smooth ones with a little red dot. If there weren't any, she'd be frustrated waiting for the next batch. If she spotted one, she couldn't wait for it to cool and would hastily dig one out, holding it hot in her hand.
Just that impatient, just that greedy, just that unbearable itch in her heart.
Just like now, as Song Shiyue's gaze once again hurriedly swept over that thin cream white cloth.
This was wrong, but it wasn't intentional—Song Shiyue hurried to defend herself in her mind before the moral condemnation could start.
Except, the body was a different matter.
A body inexplicably heating up, a stomach suddenly a little hungry, and a heart that felt as if kitten claws had scratched it—all made Song Shiyue's breathing quicken for a moment.
Like the craving for shredded radish mantou from her childhood and the hunger from overusing her strength in the apocalypse were combined together... inexplicably, unbearable.
And yet Song Shiyue herself couldn't quite tell what she was enduring...
The shredded radish mantou from her childhood, held hot in her hand, was truly so soft. In the end, Song Shiyue could only silently say to herself in her heart.
This night, too many things had happened.
Not to mention all that had happened in the first half of the night; in the latter half, some slept well, and some... couldn't sleep.
Yu Nianbing slept groggily, always feeling that something was off with her face—sometimes cold, sometimes hot, and damp...
But the previous night had been too exhausting; even though Yu Nianbing sensed something was not right, her mind was heavy, her eyelids refused to open, and every small effort was quickly overcome by drowsiness, so waking up was not something that could happen in a short while.
After an unknown period—maybe several cycles of cold and hot, maybe more—finally, Yu Nianbing managed to wake up when drowsiness was distracted. Instinctively she lifted a hand to touch, and found on her eyes something warm and slightly damp—it was a wet cloth.
"Woke up? Still early, sleep a bit more."
The sound of Song Shiyue's voice beside her made Yu Nianbing, who was about to pull off the wet cloth, freeze in her movement.
The events of the previous night flashed through Yu Nianbing's mind like a movie at ten times speed.
She really wanted to just lose her memory right then...
Yu Nianbing's hand trembled slightly as she released the wet cloth covering her eyes.
If not amnesia, then blindness would also do...
Of course, that wasn't possible.
Just as Yu Nianbing was prepared to keep this wet cloth on until the end of time, it was taken away.
Then there was the sound of splashing water beside her.
Yu Nianbing couldn't help but open her eyes. Not opening them would have been fine—the moment she opened them she realized that her eyes weren't as heavy and sore as she had felt in her sleep.
Outside the tent, the sky didn't seem to have begun to lighten yet. Inside the tent it was dark; Yu Nianbing had just opened her eyes, couldn't see anything clearly, and her vision still swam a little.
"Still early, you can sleep another twenty-some minutes, I'll call you later." Song Shiyue wrung out the wet cloth in her hands, turned to see Yu Nianbing had opened her eyes, and said with a smile.
"No..." Yu Nianbing sat up and was just about to refuse when the dark silhouette beside her turned away very quickly.
Rubbing her eyes, Yu Nianbing realized that Song Shiyue seemed to have suddenly turned from facing her to facing away...
So...
The events of yesterday wouldn't just pass, would they?
In Yu Nianbing's heart, it was as if a thousand-ton boulder had dropped from the sky.
But before Yu Nianbing could think further, Song Shiyue stammeringly spoke first: "Your... your clothes... seem to have torn a bit yesterday... Do you want to change into a spare one from your pack, or... shall I go ask Assistant Feng for needle and thread to mend them later?"
Clothes?
Yu Nianbing instinctively looked down.
Even though the light in the tent was poor, Yu Nianbing still vaguely sensed that something was wrong with the clothes at her front.
When she touched it... a piece of fabric opened up under her hand.
Yu Nianbing: "..."
With no amnesia, it wasn't hard for Yu Nianbing to recall that when she was fumbling with the buttons yesterday, she might have used a bit too much force, and when she pulled at the end there seemed to be a sound of something tearing. It was just that at the time her mind was full of other things, that pull had also hurt her hand from the button, and later... she actually hadn't managed to look at what had torn before sleeping all the way until now.
Even if she couldn't see clearly, Yu Nianbing could feel that the fabric at the collar had been torn open, and she could even touch... what was inside.
So... she had slept like that yesterday?
Staring somewhat dumbly at the corner of the tent where there were two things that looked like basins Song Shiyue seemed to have used just now.
So... had Song Shiyue turned on the flashlight last night?
Yu Nianbing's heart tightened; after hugging the torn cloth in front, actually, a strange joy that shouldn't have appeared rose in her heart.
Did you see? Then can we call it even?
Yu Nianbing wanted to ask that, but mindful of the livestream, she ultimately didn't voice it.
But seeing how sensitive Song Shiyue was, instantly turning away, Yu Nianbing's fixation on last night's accident finally eased just a little.
Of course, she still minded a bit that Song Shiyue hadn't taken off that thing after coming back.
"I'll change into a new one." Yu Nianbing said, preparing to get up and grab the backpack outside the tent.
But Song Shiyue's movement was faster; she actually unzipped the tent, reached out a hand, and brought in Yu Nianbing's backpack from outside.
Yu Nianbing remembered... her own bag seemed to have been placed some distance from the tent door.
Had she... prepared this long ago?
"I'll go out, you change." Song Shiyue said, and swiftly crawled out of the tent.
Once again Yu Nianbing was left alone in the tent, but this time, she didn't feel stifled; instead... she felt a little like laughing.
Song Shiyue... really...
Even though she herself had done such a thing yesterday, she actually still treated her with such sincerity today.
As Yu Nianbing changed, she used her eyes, which were beginning to grow accustomed to the darkness, to look at the two basins in the corner of the tent. After fully waking, there was no need to ask where the alternating cold and hot damp sensation on her eyes during sleep had come from.
So, did this person really not mind?
Just because of that one life-saving grace, after having such a thing done to her, she didn't even feel wronged, didn't even get angry, didn't even stay silent for very long?
Yu Nianbing then thought back to that initiative hug from Song Shiyue later...
Could it be... this person would repay a life-saving grace by giving herself in marriage?
Then if...
Yu Nianbing abruptly clutched the hem of the clothes she had just changed into, stopping herself from thinking further.
Just last night she had still feared the other would think that accident was demanding repayment for the favor; today what was she already starting to think?
Yet, just the memory of the softness of those lips during that accident was enough to make Yu Nianbing's heart unable to calm for a long while.
Indeed, something that has developed cracks—how could it be so easily mended and restored to its former solidity.
After Yu Nianbing finished changing and called Song Shiyue back in, both cherished this short stretch of ostrich time before the sky brightened.
Song Shiyue wrung out the wet cloth once more, coaxing Yu Nianbing to sleep a bit more.
Yu Nianbing understood the intention hidden beneath her words, and obediently lay down.
This time, it was a cold cloth.
Cold and hot alternated several more times; in Song Shiyue's eyes, Yu Nianbing's eyes now looked fine. Even the slight pink that hadn't yet faded could be explained away by the disturbance earlier and poor sleep afterward. Her early rising and all those times wringing the cloth had not been in vain.
But after all, Song Shiyue was still too inexperienced and had greatly underestimated the viewers on StarNet.
The previous night, from the moment Yu Nianbing started crying, it had been guessed immediately, and afterward they'd even been driving their imagination cars for quite a while...
And this morning, from the moment Song Shiyue fetched water into the tent and started wringing the cloth, some viewers had already guessed what she was doing from the sounds of pouring water and wringing the cloth.
Of course, those who guessed that were only the proper viewers.
As for those who had been driving imagination cars all night...
"Fetched... fetched water in..."
"The sound... of wringing a towel..."
"Is... is she wiping..."
"I've been a fan of Little Ice Block for so many years... I thought no matter who she was with, she'd be the one bouncing out of bed in the morning!"
"Weakly say one thing, with my Sister Song's hand strength, it's very normal not to be able to get up..."
"???"
"Speak! Did you also move your water meter outside?"
"If I start moonlighting as a Little Moon from now on, will Sister Song be gentler to our Little Ice Block?"
"Although not being able to get out of bed after a night is really... inexpressibly... moving. But, this kind of morning bringing water in to help wipe is really... my maiden heart is about to melt..."
"Friends, it's just applying compresses to the eyes! Do you want to be expelled from the fandom by Little Ice Block after this show? You don't want to be Little Ice Buckets anymore, right?"
"It's fine... I'm already a broken bucket, now please call me Little Hot Water Bottle..."
"The Little Ice Block has melted, where would any Little Ice Buckets be. Oh, speaking of 'melted', I can't take it anymore. It's all of you! Forcing me to imagine all night! Now my head is full of yellow trash, I can't even speak properly!"
......
The production team probably never imagined that the visual mosaic and audio mode they had chosen to protect the guests' privacy would open up such a huge space for the viewers' imaginations.
This season's viewers' preference direction was just too unexpected.
It was unclear if the production team worried that this mode leading to such a direction would result in the guests severely holding them accountable afterward.
Just when the viewers were imagining most happily, in the early morning, the StarNet "The Wilderness Journey" livestream main page launched a new feature.
[Exclusive Badges, Make Your Danmaku Shine Differently]
What launched, was actually the fan icons that viewers had been calling for since the show began.
This time the production team outside Wilderness Planet had finally done something decent; these launched fan icons were quite down-to-earth, basically built around each fanbase's self-designated names.
Little Ice Bucket, Little Moon, Little Sunshine, Little Star...
Of course, the production team also had some representative icons, like a sheep head for Captain Yang, a cartoon chubby face for Director Zhang...
The appearance of the new feature made the viewers quite excited, even interrupting the imagination that had lasted most of the night for a moment, and they lavishly praised the production team without stint.
The viewers were happy, and the production team who had worked overtime all night to launch the new feature were also quite gratified.
But there were always some people who loved to look down on others' joy or efforts with a condescending sneer.
In a villa on Mingtan Planet, a slightly portly middle-aged man was awakened by the sound of a StarNet message.
Wiping his sleep-swollen face, the middle-aged man frowned and opened the message.
It was a brief message from "The Wilderness Journey" production team, its tone jubilantly detailing the success of this livestream window fan icon launch.
A message claiming credit, and disturbing one's sleep too.
These people, their eyes are all on money, on success, on advancing further—truly, they don't have any sense at all.
Heh, not just them.
Those viewers who get so happy over such a little feature are also ridiculously foolish.
The middle-aged man roughly scanned the message, curled his lip disdainfully, and closed the message.
But before he could lie back down to sleep in, another voice message came in.
"Bro, why is The Wilderness Journey's production team still launching new features?"
The middle-aged man maintained his disdain, tapped the voice reply, and said: "Let them do whatever, it's not much money anyway. According to them, the audience response is pretty good. Just let everyone think they're properly producing the show. That's beneficial for what comes later anyway."
At the same time, still in this villa.
A slender figure tiptoed into the underground media room.
Unfortunately, the timing of her arrival wasn't very good; she had only managed to glance at the top few documents on the coffee table twice before someone discovered her.
Comments
Post a Comment