Flying Ash (飞灰)

Contents I. MAIN STORY 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Chapter 14 15. Chapter 15 16. Chapter 16 17. Chapter 17 18. Chapter 18 19. Chapter 19 20. Chapter 20 21. Chapter 21 22. Chapter 22 23. Chapter 23 24. Chapter 24 25. Chapter 25 26. Chapter 26 27. Chapter 27 28. Chapter 28 29. Chapter 29 30. Chapter 30 31. Chapter 31 32. Chapter 32 33. Chapter 33 34. Chapter 34 35. Chapter 35 36. Chapter 36 37. Chapter 37 38. Chapter 38 39. Chapter 39 40. Chapter 40 41. Chapter 41 42. Chapter 42 43. Chapter 43 44. Chapter 44 45. Chapter 45 46. Chapter 46 47. Chapter 47 48. Chapter 48 49. Chapter 49 50. Chapter 50 51. Chapter 51 52. Chapter 52 53. Chapter 53 54. Chapter 54 55. Chapter 55 56. Chapter 56 57. Chapter 57 58. Chapter 58 59. Chapter 59 II. EXTRAS 60. Extra 1 61. Extra 2 Yu Cheng (余酲) Flying Ash (飞灰) First published by Lazy Girl Translations 2023 Copyright © 2023 by Yu Cheng (余酲) First edition This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com I Main Story 1 Chapter 1 Yi Hui dreamed again. It was still illogical scattered fragments, shrouded in an ash grey mist, reminding him that this was a long, long time ago. If he looked around, there was a somewhat empty bedroom with two pillows placed side by side on the bed and a crooked Doraemon doll on the left smiling, pale and decadent under the direct light of the bedside lamp. His gaze inadvertently swept across a glass of steaming hot water on the table. In his dream, his body got up one step ahead of his consciousness and made him walk out. The door opened with a bang. What greeted him was not a sunny morning but a stormy midnight. Far away, skyscrapers, grass and the night sky distorted and merged into a thick darkness. When he turned around, the door was gone. He had nowhere to go and he didn’t know where to go. He didn’t dare to sit still, so he had to walk towards the neon lights in the distance. The picture in front of him shook with the rhythm of his footsteps. He was sure he hadn’t blinked and yet the wavering points of light submerged into the fog, disappearing little by little. But he still couldn’t stop. He heard a voice from behind. Someone was chasing him, trying to step on his shadow and crush his spine. The road under his feet had also become steep and difficult to walk. The dark shadow sometimes floated by his side and sometimes above his head. It was like vines wrapping around his body tightly, or like snakes touching his back with its tongues. It was difficult to breathe and his chest was sore. When the last discernible ray of light in front of him was also swallowed by the darkness, he slipped and fell to the ground. Biting cold came before the pain. The cold penetrated his heart and his inner organs through the pores of his whole body. Between the huge heaven and earth, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. The black clouds overwhelmed him and he was almost engulfed in darkness. With the last bit of his strength, he raised his head and looked around. There was no one coming from behind and no one coming from the front. The only sound that reminded him of his isolation was the triumphant laughter that hovered in the air. No one would come to save him. At 4:30 in the morning, Yi Hui pushed away the quilt and sat on the bed for a few minutes before his brain regained control over his limbs. He slowly got out of bed, put on his slippers and walked downstairs. His footsteps had always been very light; he had never even alarmed the birds perching on the eaves of the house outside the window. He went to the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water. After taking two sips, he felt a faint pain in his stomach. Only then did he remember that there were many physical problems with this body. He needed a quilt in late summer and early autumn because of his weak physique. As soon as he caught a cold, a fever or a flu would follow. He poured the water again to boil it. After washing up, Yi Hui had nothing to do. He sat at the dining table with his head propped up by his hands, dazed by the humming of the kettle. It was not the first time he had that dream just now. Yi Hui had trouble sleeping on a bed other than his own. Since he came here, he hasn’t slept through the night once and last night when he managed to fall asleep, he was disturbed by this pervasive nightmare, without a moment of peace. He pushed his hair away from his cheeks and pressed his temples. The time spent to relax with his eyes closed was enough time for the water to boil. When he poured the water into the cup, his wrist shook and the hot water spilled along the edge of the table and on the floor. When it splashed on his instep, it was no longer hot. Yi Hui still shrank as if by reflex. It was only after the pain had reached his central nervous system that he came back from his daze. After he’d drunk a glass of water, his heart was still beating fast, going on a rampage inside his ribcage. Yi Hui patted his chest a few times, thinking helplessly that he had changed to a relatively mature body but his mental strength