The Rescue Of The Tragic Villain Is In Progress! [PART 2]

A7 C213: Old Dream

Jiang Weimian lay on the chair in the internet café and unintentionally fell asleep.

He had a fragmented and blurry dream, distant and elusive. Like a hand with distinct joints wiping away the mist on a glass window, the outside scene finally became clear, bringing back long-lost memories.

Back in high school, Jiang Weimian didn't live on campus. He often commutes by himself, passing through a bustling street every day. It was lively yet noisy, with prosperity coexisting with dilapidation. People in stylish clothes often strolled through the area, and on the chilly street, there were many children of unknown origin selling flowers.

Cheap plastic roses, priced at one yuan each, were plentifully packed in a basket, labeled at ten yuan each. They shuttled through the street, begging young men and women passing by to buy one. They followed like annoying little bugs, irritating people.

Jiang Weimian often skipped classes, simply because he easily got drowsy during lectures. He wore a tracksuit, slung a black single-shoulder bag, hands in the jacket pockets, his face always expressionless, deterring strangers.

Yet there were always daring individuals who clung to his legs, saying, "Gege, gege, buy a flower, give it to your girlfriend."

Jiang Weimian disliked these little kids. He furrowed his brow and pushed them away, "I don't have a girlfriend."

The kid grabbed his leg and persisted, "Gege, gege, buy a flower, you can gift it to your boyfriend too."

Jiang Weimian paused, and the fist in his pocket tightened. He frowned at the kid holding onto him without letting go, realizing the child was around thirteen or fourteen years old but had a market-savvy and cunning demeanor. With a dirty face and big, bright black eyes, the child seemed malnourished.

"Not buying, go away."

Jiang Weimian said these four words and tried to leave, but the child continued to pester him, shedding tears, "Gege, my grandma is sick. Please buy a flower; I want to earn money to help her get treatment."

The child was a born actor, shedding tears whenever he wanted, crying with sincerity and authenticity. No one doubted the truth in his words because people generally believed that children wouldn't lie.

Jiang Weimian didn't believe him at all, but he wasn't heartless. In the end, he relented, frowned, and asked, "How much?"

The pitiful child made a gesture of ten, "Ten yuan."

Jiang Weimian happened to have a ten-yuan bill in his pocket. He directly took it out and threw it into the basket without taking the flower. Then, he walked away. The child finally let him go and redirected his attention to someone else.

However, when Jiang Weimian has an episode, he not only can't remember things but also forgets the way home. Twenty minutes later, he found himself back at the same street corner. Looking at the familiar scene in front of him, he furrowed his brow, fell silent for a moment, and finally chose to find a bench by the roadside and sat down.

In times before navigation became widespread, encountering such situations wasn't a reason to panic. Based on Jiang Weimian's experience, he should remember in another twenty minutes; there was no need to bother his divorced and separated parents, and certainly no need to trouble the police.

However, falling victim to this strange illness of sleepiness and forgetfulness at such a young age, no one's mood would be good.

Jiang Weimian closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. His mind was blank, accompanied by a deep sense of fear, subtle but penetrating to the bone.