Shen Lian felt that Ming Lin carried more than a little bad luck with him.
Shen Lian went to the restroom and washed his face. After his encounter with Ming Lin, he could distinctly feel his strength draining away, bit by bit. The sensation was unmistakable and deeply unpleasant. He rubbed the phone in his trouser pocket, thought for a moment, then returned to his lounge first.
Dai Tong was grateful that he had stepped in to help and took good care of him. Even though Shen Lian wasn't a lead, Dai Tong had cleared out a lounge for him so he could sleep whenever he got tired.
Shen Lian usually only came in to change clothes. Jiang You's bag and a few bottles of water sat on the table. He settled into the spacious chair to recover, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. Almost without any transition, his consciousness began to blur.
In the dream, Shen Lian couldn't see anything. Everything was pitch-black.
A moment later, footsteps approached. It sounded like at least three people.
"He's dead," someone said.
The rustle of wind through leaves suddenly rang out clearly in the still air.
"Haha... hahahaha..." Another person's voice was crazed with delight. "He's dead. He's finally dead."
Who died? Shen Lian wondered, even as he desperately resisted one particular answer. He jerked violently in the chair, knocking a water bottle off the table with a sweep of his hand. As it hit the floor with a thud, his consciousness rushed back toward reality. His chest remained motionless for several seconds before instinct drove him to start breathing, one breath at a time.
His heart began to hurt again. Strands of hair fell across his forehead, but his eyes were half-open. He was clearly awake.
Shen Lian frowned