A Vast Loneliness, I Am the Only One in This World

Under the command of the caravan captain, Carl, several guards dragged their exhausted bodies about, breathing heavily and shouting in rhythm.

Working together, they wedged thick logs beneath the wheels and tied tough ropes around the axles as levers, accompanied by the neighing and desperate pulling of the draft horses.

And at the crucial moment, Cui Ciyou quietly exerted an immense pushing force on the rear of the carriage, far beyond anything ordinary people could imagine.

(He carefully controlled his output, disguising it as the effect of several ordinary people pushing together and avoiding anything too shocking.)

Amid the groaning of wood and the churning of mud, the heavily laden wagon trapped in the mire was finally dragged free.

At Carl's low command, the caravan re-formed its ranks and resumed its journey.

Cui Ciyou, this mysterious "stranger," was tacitly assigned to the rear of the group.

He followed neither too closely nor too far away behind a wagon whose cargo was tightly covered by heavy oilcloth.

Cui Ciyou could sense that, although he had helped them out of their predicament,

and had shown no ill intent during their brief earlier contact,

most of the people in this group, especially the ordinary guards, still looked at him

with wariness, distance, and intense curiosity.

He was like an unknown celestial body that had suddenly entered a fixed orbit. Though he seemed harmless for now, his very existence was enough to unsettle people accustomed to established order.

We met by chance. Whether we will ever meet again is uncertain. It is only natural that they would be wary of me.

Cui Ciyou did not mind this. If anything, he was rather pleased by it.

In his view, there was nothing wrong with maintaining a distance from these native inhabitants of another world, whose language he could not understand and whose backgrounds were unknown to him.

Moreover, this relatively detached state allowed him to observe this brand-new world more freely and attentively.

The journey was dull and bumpy.

The heavy wooden wagons crept laboriously along a narrow, muddy forest trail riddled with roots and potholes.

The axles and wheels constantly let out teeth-grinding creaks and clunks, like the groans of weary old men.

The horses also seemed listless, breathing heavily. Occasionally, they snorted impatiently and flicked their tails to drive away the mosquitoes and flies in the woods.

On both sides of the road stretched what seemed like an endless primeval forest:

Bizarre giant trees with rough, heavy bark were tangled in twisted vines and covered in strangely colored fungi and moss.

Within the low shrubs, one could often glimpse brightly colored, almost bewitching flowers or fruits, giving off peculiar scents that were either cloyingly sweet or sharply pungent.

In the air, aside from the scent of plants and earth, there seemed to float an extremely faint kind of strange energy particle—magic.

Perhaps this was the pale blue shimmering energy I saw by the stream yesterday?

As he breathed in those particles that no one else seemed able to see, Cui Ciyou felt his fatigue recovering at an extremely slow pace.

He closely observed these "humans of another world."

He noticed Carl, the stern, bearded swordsman—the captain of the guards.

While traveling, Carl remained highly alert, his hawk-like gaze constantly sweeping the surroundings.

From time to time, he used brief commands and gestures to adjust the group's formation and pace. He clearly possessed extensive experience in wilderness travel and command.

Several other older guards with resolute expressions shared an unspoken understanding.

They always covered one another without seeming to mean to, and they carried out Carl's orders most resolutely. They were the backbone of the group.

Cui Ciyou also paid particular attention to the young guard who had discovered him first yesterday.

(Only later did Cui Ciyou learn that he was Carl's son, named Dak.)

Though Dak lacked experience, his gaze was sharp and his movements quick. He stayed close to Carl at all times, striving to learn from him.

Cui Ciyou tried his best to commit the snippets of their brief, rapid, strangely pronounced exchanges to memory.

He attempted to infer the possible meanings of words through recurring syllables, changes in intonation, and the corresponding situations and actions.

For instance, whenever the group stopped to rest, Carl would make a sound resembling "Kuta."

Whenever vigilance was required, he would shout something resembling "Grim."

Like the most dedicated student, he repeatedly compared, analyzed, and memorized these fragments of information in his mind.

This was how he began the most basic study of language in this other world.

During their brief noon break, the group stopped at a somewhat open area on higher ground.

When food was distributed, Cui Ciyou received his lunch—hard black bread and several strips of bitterly salty dried meat.

He noticed that the distribution of food also displayed clear differences in rank:

Carl received the largest and best portion. In addition to rations and the finest strips of meat, he had a small yellow lump that gave off a rich aroma.

(Perhaps cheese? Cui Ciyou silently guessed.)

Dak and the older guards came next, followed by the ordinary guards. The two lowest-ranking people in the group, responsible for chores and tending the horses, received only the smallest and poorest portions. The strict hierarchy was plain to see.

Ugh... this tastes truly awful...

Cui Ciyou expressionlessly chewed the black bread, hard enough to nearly crack his teeth, and the dried meat, tough as leather. It was like chewing wax.

But in a situation where food was scarce, anything that could provide energy was immensely precious. He had no right to be picky.

During the break, Cui Ciyou conducted another "writing experiment":

He found a sharp shard of stone and carved several simplified Chinese characters of varying complexity onto a relatively flat rock: "person," "water," "fire," "forest," "thank you," and "danger."

Let's see whether anyone in this other world recognizes Chinese characters.

His strange behavior drew the curiosity of several guards. Dak among them, they all gathered around.

Then they pointed at the strange symbols on the ground, which looked like incomprehensible scribbles to them, chattering away.

Their faces were full of confusion and bewilderment.

Carl also came over and frowned as he studied them carefully for a while. He even gestured with his fingers, trying to understand their structural logic.

But in the end, he shook his head and gestured to Cui Ciyou that he could not understand the symbols.

As expected, the people of this world do not recognize Chinese characters.

Cui Ciyou calmly accepted this fact. With his palm, he rubbed away the markings on the rock as if he had merely completed an insignificant test.

Yet deep within him, an immense loneliness beyond description surged forth like a tide.

I am the only foreigner in this world. There is only me in this world now.

Aside from testing communication through Chinese characters, Cui Ciyou remained silent and distant, no longer taking the initiative to communicate with the caravan.

In his view, when language was a barrier, too much communication would only easily lead to misunderstandings and trouble.

All he needed was to play the role of a "quiet, powerful, mysterious temporary companion."

"A passerby... in the end... I am merely a passing traveler in this world..."

Cui Ciyou kept reminding himself of this, using a deliberate, cold detachment to conceal the immense loneliness in his heart.

When the last ray of sunset was mercilessly swallowed by the distant western ridgeline,

the deep night fell like an enormous curtain of black velvet, silently and completely shrouding the vast primeval forest.