Chapter 891: Feng Mu Side Story – The Beginning of Destiny 2_2

(The image of my father flashed through my mind, carrying a vague shadow; I instinctively chose not to delve any deeper).

Why do I still entertain these wild thoughts, trying to perceive those "anomalies" which may not even exist?

I suddenly realized, as if a thousand-pound burden was lifted off my shoulders, a light and grounded sense of relief flooded my heart.

Perhaps it’s really just me being overthinking, it’s my own malfunction that perceives things I shouldn’t have.

That’s how the laws of the world operate; the sun hangs high in the center, the Lord overlooks, the family is harmonious, mother cooks delicious meals, sister excels at crafts, father... let’s not mention him.

Isn’t all this so "normal"?

Normal as breathing.

Now it’s all well, even the possible "imperfections" of my fiancée have a perfect and elastic solution; what else worries me?

Happily, I ruffled my sister’s hair.

I laughed sincerely, reached out, and affectionately ruffled my sister’s soft hair, feeling the warmth as the strands slid through my fingers.

"Thank you, sister."

My voice returned to calm.

My sister’s hair is soft, yet it’s as smooth as a doll’s wig.

I steadily received the headless cloth doll, holding it in my arms.

Without its head, its splendid dress seems even more aesthetically pleasing, the scent of cotton and old fabric mixed with the unique sweet glue smell of my sister’s room entered my nose, giving an unprecedented sense of peace.

Holding the headless doll, I turned and left my sister’s room, walking along the carpeted dark corridor towards the courtyard outside the mansion.

The carpet absorbed the sound of footsteps, on the walls of the corridor hung some portraits, the eyes within the paintings followed my back, but I was long accustomed.

As I stepped into the courtyard, the blood-red sunlight instantly enveloped me like a dense liquid.

The sky is always the same, that light sphere called "Sun" as if nailed firmly by an invisible nail, eternally suspended above overhead, unwavering.

Radiating an ominous red light like coagulated blood, it drenched the entire world in a mysterious crimson tone.

No gentle dawn, no magnificent dusk, no change of day and night, only eternal noon, eternal blood-red stare.

Wind silently blew, slightly swaying the orderly shaped and vividly colored flowers and plants in the courtyard, exuding a mixed scent of rust and sweetness.

It’s as if this land itself was also silently, slowly breathing.

Holding the doll, feeling the "calm" inside, I prepared to return to my room, continuing this "normal" day.

Perhaps I could read those beautifully bound novels, the contents of which I can never remember.

Suddenly, I felt the doll in my arms move slightly.

No, it wasn’t moving.

It was the neck portion of the doll tearing open more.

Perhaps it was just my sister was too forceful earlier, or due to slight jolts as I walked, the jagged fabric edges at the tear lifted.

The white cotton filling inside rustled out through the gap, dropping onto my chest and arms.

Instinctively, I paused, intending to use my fingers to stuff the overflowing cotton back in, attempting to maintain the "wholeness" of the doll, as if this could maintain the calmness I just gained, pressing that discordant note back into the score.

Yet, at the instant my fingers touched the soft filling, I noticed something different mixed among the white cotton that surged out.

It was a thin piece of wood, dark in color, its edges heavily worn, as if through long ages or countless times of rubbing.

Quietly embedded in the cotton, like an object that shouldn’t exist, a carefully hidden secret, a message from beyond time.

My heartbeat inexplicably skipped a beat, as if lightly pinched by an invisible hand.

I held my breath, extending slightly trembling fingers, carefully reaching into the cotton like an archaeologist excavating fragile relics, extracted that foreign object.

A piece of wood!

The wood was very light, almost weightless, its surface not smooth, bearing vein-like wood grain.

And within the small space, were several lines of words engraved.

The carvings were extremely deep, seemingly imbued with all the strength and will of the carver, yet the edges of the words were exceedingly rough, as if someone scratched it out bit by bit with their nails in endless pain, carrying a stubbornness verging on madness.

And in the crevices of the engraving, embedded were some dark red, dried, clumped dregs, along with tiny particles resembling... skin flakes.

What is this?

An accidental mixture of debris when my sister made the doll?

A fragment of a failed piece?

A... prank?

I suppressed the uncontrollable tremor beginning to spread inside, brought it close to my eyes, and under the eternal blood-red sunlight, carefully discerned the twisted, convulsive handwriting, akin to deciphering a code from another world.

In an instant!

An indescribable chill surged from the soles of my feet, hurtling like lightning along my spine to the skull, almost flipping the top of my head open.

My blood seemed to instantly solidify at that moment, my whole body fell icy cold, even breathing halted, lungs felt vacuumed.

—Absolutely do not forget to look at the sun!

The handwriting!

This is my handwriting!

Every stroke, each line, every halt and twist brought by excessive force... all bore my unmistakably familiar writing habit and pen characteristics.

Like undeniable reflection in the mirror.

So, the dark red, clumped dregs between the words enclosed are my blood?

This piece of wood, I carved it?

When?

Why do I have no memory of this?

It’s like a portion of life was excavated out, leaving this minor, almost forgotten notch on the wall of time?

How did it end up in my sister’s doll body?

Did my sister put it there?

Or someone else?

Or... was it me myself, in some forgotten moment?

"Sun? Look at the sun?"

Silently, mechanically chewing these words in my mind, each word struck my fragile nerves like a red-hot heavy hammer.

Every syllable carried a scorching sacrilege.

The enormous panic, threatening to crush me instantly gripped me, like countless cold slick tentacles emerging from beneath, entwining my heart, my throat, slowly tightening, stripping away my right to breathe.

Throat felt blocked by a hot piece of coal, every attempt to inhale brought tearing pain.

Sun? Look at the sun?

This is sheer madman’s ramblings! The supreme sacrilege! Self-destruction! A taboo that even thinking of would taint the soul!

In this world, this is inherently known, imprinted in the deepest part of the soul as the foremost forbidden law!

It’s common knowledge that the sun is the embodiment of the Lord, eternally suspended, 90 degrees perpendicular to our heads, constantly overseeing, illuminating everything on the earth.

And we, created by the Lord, are not allowed, physiologically, even instinctively, to raise our heads.

Our necks can flexibly rotate left and right, observe our surroundings; can freely lower, show humility and obedience.

Only, unable to look up!

To view the sun is the ultimate sacrilege to the Lord, an attempt to fathom divine mysteries, inviting the most terrifying, unimaginable punishment.

This is an iron rule, a part of the foundation of our world, an inherent understanding of all life.

I... How could I engrave such blasphemous, insane words?!

Even "don’t forget"?

Why "don’t forget"?

What exactly have I "forgotten"?!

Ps:

Sorry, stuck at writing, I’ll write an extra to change the mindset.

The first Chapter extra is in the October 1st extra, requiring unlocking with monthly tickets.

I wonder if the students who read the extra could glean a hint of this world view.