In My Youth

"I wish to die young, without love, without sorrow, like a golden star falling, like a flower that never fades rising.

"I wish for those troubled by long-standing enmity to find joy with me upon my tombstone.

"Please bury me in a place far from the noisy main road, where weeping willows bend their branches, stirring the water, and the unharvested, leafless beans gleam golden.

"May poppies bloom in hazy slumber, and may the wind blow over my head.

"I will not look back on the path I've walked, nor on the mad years that have passed. When the last hymn is sung, I will sleep without a care.

"But please, do not let the flame extinguish completely, do not forget that woman who awakened everyone's heart.

"I wish to die young..."

A rhythmic knock sounded at the door. As Chiba responded, Elu pushed it open.

"Miss Chiba, you sent for me?"

Chiba lowered the volume of the record player, turned, and reached out, handing Elu two documents she had already signed and stamped.

"Yes, you'll be going to Core City. Leave tonight."

Elu took them and glanced at them, looking genuinely surprised. "...You're going to sell all the Tanyi City bonds you previously held?"

"Yes, the sooner the better, preferably within half a month. Deposit the cashed funds into Gray Scale Bank and leave them there for now. Wait for further news."

"Please allow me to ask why," Elu frowned slightly. "Two years ago, you said you would hold these bonds for at least ten years, as Tanyi is the most suitable city in the entire Third District for middle-class retirement. In the past two years, people have been moving out of Core City to settle in Tanyi, which shows your initial judgment was correct. If we sell now, our returns will only reach 16% of the expected profit... no, possibly less than 10%."

"That's because the situation has changed," Chiba took off her glasses. "By getting ahead of it, we can at least sell at a good price. If we wait any longer, we'll lose money."

Elu looked puzzled. "What made you change your mind?"

"It's suitable for retirement because the AHgAs new recruit base is here," Chiba answered unhurriedly. "Everyone believes that besides Core City, there's no place in the entire Third District safer than here."

Elu took a deep breath, a knowing look in his eyes. "...So, it's about to become unsafe here?"

"Who knows," Chiba massaged her neck. "People's thoughts always change, and sometimes it doesn't depend on the facts."

Elu put the documents away.

"Understood. I'll depart tonight."

Perhaps it was because she had recalled so many past events that night, Hesta once again dreamed of everything in Duanming Alley.

In a dilapidated little cabin, her mother, wearing a striped apron, was tasting the newly cooked soup.

After so many years, she saw her mother again.

Her mother was very young then.

Young and slender.

Her appearance was still as it was when she last parted ways with Hesta; a dark green velvet ribbon tied her shoulder-length soft hair into a ponytail, falling down her slender neck to her right shoulder.

Her shoulders were as delicate as a bird's.

Her mother's hair was dark brown at this moment—as was Hesta's. This was dyed hair, but at the roots, a bright, flame-like red could still be seen. After all, to hide safely in the crowd, some necessary disguises were needed.

No matter where they were, red hair like theirs was too conspicuous.

Looking around, Hesta realized she was sitting on a small green wooden stool. She remembered picking it up from the junkyard near Duanming Alley, number 16. Old Charlie had helped her fix a leg that had been damaged by rain and found her nearly half a bucket of paint.

She had painted the small wooden stool green herself before giving it to her mother.

The table at home was an empty wine barrel topped with a semicircular wooden board. They secured them together with a hammer and nails, and her mother covered it with a tablecloth, making it look like a real small coffee table.

Underneath the table, a plush carpet, a bit worn from use, was laid down. Her mother had carefully sewn together more than a dozen pieces of light green fabric of different materials—they came from bedsheets, old coats, canvas bags, or skirts. The inherent patterns of the materials presented a vibrant collision in this patchwork.

On the tabletop, a paper flower made of wire and cardstock was placed in a sponge holder. Beside it lay the small silver key related to Boheng, and a well-worn copy of "Edgar's Dark Tales Collection - Volume 1" rested against the paper flower.

She reached out and gently touched the sponge holder her mother had made.

Thankfully, the important things were all there.

This must be a dream.

Hesta quickly realized this.

But please, don't wake me up yet.

In Duanming Alley, Hesta often heard her mother talk about her life in District 14. Her mother cherished everything about the past—even though the climate in the northern part of District 14 was far less pleasant than here.

She heard that winters there were very long, lasting from October to April, with snow barely melting. However, winter was also a time for gathering around the fire to chat and read, so life wasn't lonely.

Her mother often spoke of how, as a child, she had a room decorated exactly as described in Edgar's novels: a wooden coffee table, a dark green cast-iron chair, a green polka-dot carpet, white curtains hanging vertically to the ground...

And her mother's mother would often sit at the same coffee table with her on winter afternoons, reading together.

These past scenes were like her mother's "anchors," firmly holding onto her, allowing her to always remember who she was and where she came from.

Unfortunately, it was almost impossible to find paper books in Duanming Alley. In their leisure time, mother and daughter could only sit by the coffee table and read old newspapers—until one day, a coincidence occurred, and they obtained a copy of "Edgar's Dark Tales Collection - Volume 1" from Old Charlie.

Her mother exchanged two months of her meager salary for the book, and Old Charlie readily agreed.

This "Dark Tales Collection" was a translation from District 14. The characters were square and neat, completely different from the writing seen in Duanming Alley.

For many days and nights, her mother and Hesta sat around the small coffee table. This book was used as her literacy primer. Sometimes she listened to her mother read stories and explain words, and sometimes she copied down the beautiful sentences that were underlined.

In her dream, Hesta lowered her head again, pressing her cheek against the tabletop.

She gripped the edge of the table with both hands—whenever she lay down like this, her gaze would just happen to land in front of the stove.

Steam rose from the stove, obscuring the view.

Her mother hummed a song.

Hesta swung her feet, and beneath them, the patchwork rug her mother had sewn herself rubbed against her warm soles.

It would be best to still have a glass bell jar, Hesta thought, otherwise, something will always be missing.

Thanks to Lan Guan Qian Wu Ma and Shi Wei 212 for the monthly tickets~