AWB Chapter 510 [Empire] My mind is a little confused
Chapter 510 [Empire] My mind is a little confused
Chapter 510 [Empire] My mind is a little confused
The dormitory was silent at night, only occasionally rustling with the sound of a cold breeze outside the window. The lights were dim, and the air was filled with the faint scent of disinfectant and the fresh aroma of plants. Sitting on the edge of my bed, my eyes unconsciously fell on the green seedling in my backpack, still dormant. Its branches and leaves seemed even denser, and the emerald green leaves glowed faintly in the dim light, like sleeping stars.
I lowered my head, my eyes somewhat empty, my mind lacking any clear thought. Everything I had just experienced seemed to transform into a hazy mist, shrouding my mind. Yang Yue's name echoed in my mind, and those words, "You'll know sooner or later," plunged me into an indescribable state of mind. Our relationship had always lacked clear boundaries, and even some of his words often struck me as both familiar and unfamiliar. As night fell, I was unintentionally trapped by these tangled thoughts, unable to escape.
I reached out and gently stroked the green seedling's branches, feeling its warmth. It remained motionless, as if lost in some kind of quiet slumber. I couldn't help but think, this green seedling, it seemed, had never truly relied on me. Although it could protect me in crucial moments, it always existed in a state of isolation, as if its mission had no direct connection to my fate.
My fingertips brushed against the seedling's leaves, and they felt a touch of coolness. I stared at them, a complex wave of emotions welling up within me. Am I like this green seedling? Though capable of facing challenges, I maintain a distance and aloofness, preventing myself from truly relying on anyone, even those close to me.
After a moment of silence, I looked up at the deep night sky outside the window. The stars twinkled in the distance. They were so far away, yet a glimmer of light could still be seen. My heart seemed to settle a little, as if those distant stars were quietly watching me, reminding me not to worry too much, and that everything in life would eventually find its answer.
"Maybe I should relax a bit." I whispered to myself, my eyes gradually becoming empty.
The green seedlings still didn't move, but they seemed to be silently responding to my thoughts.
A transparent young vine gently slid down from the branches of the green seedlings, like a slender crystal ribbon, silently crawling down, as if dancing rhythmically in the darkness. Its vine was slender and transparent, emitting a cold blue-white light. It was almost invisible, but its presence was clearly felt. The icy feeling quickly spread from my wrist to my entire palm, and the biting chill instantly took over every nerve in my body.
A transparent young vine gently curled around my fingers, silently pleading for my attention. Its gentle touch carried a chill, as if blending seamlessly with this unforgiving planet and season. It didn't offer the warmth or comfort of the green seedlings. Its chill served as a subtle reminder that I was still surrounded by an unknown force, unable to fully escape the constraints of the outside world.
I gently pinched the vine, feeling its icy coolness through my fingers. The chill brought clarity to my thoughts. The presence of the transparent young vine always felt distant and cold, even a little unsure how to approach it. Unlike the vibrant, vigorous green seedlings, it maintained a calm, indifferent demeanor, a quiet, cold presence that seemed to resonate with my own state of mind.
At this moment, I finally couldn't help but whispered: "You are really cold."
The transparent young vine trembled slightly, as if responding to my words, and the tip of the vine gently touched my palm. The coldness penetrated my skin like a needle, and the biting chill made me involuntarily shrink my hand. But it seemed unconcerned, remaining clinging to my hand, calm and silent.
I looked up, my eyes complex as I gazed at the transparent young vine. Its presence seemed a silent force, a reminder that no matter how many warm moments there are, there's always a chill, an inevitable chill. This chill held a quiet persistence, as if it never cared about being warmed or relied upon, but simply remained quietly by my side, waiting for the opportunity that would arrive at an unknown moment.
"You really are..." I shook my head gently, but was speechless in the end.