手指敲击着键盘，咔哒咔哒，如骨制的铃铛。坎迪已经在书房里工作了整整四个小时，虽然很想歇一歇，但他的性格不允许他擅自休息，特别是在还差一口气就能完成作品的时候。

坎迪是个奇怪的男人，留着一嘴络腮胡，一看就能猜出他有纯正的欧洲血统。然而，与他中年大叔的形象格格不入的是，他是一位小说家。虽然说不上多有名，但也收获了不少忠实读者。

在这个位于俄罗斯北边，极圈内的小镇里，坎迪悠闲地生活了十年。他不同于那些热衷于捕鱼，烤肉或者天天混迹酒吧的俄罗斯男人——坎迪的爱好，除了写小说之外，就是吃甜点。这也难免，毕竟他在法国出生，或许继承了法国人热爱甜点的基因。但俄罗斯人并不善于制作甜点，特别是在这种偏僻的北国小镇，甜点在每天的食谱中更加罕见。当然，作为俄罗斯的特色，甜腻的冷冻蜂蜜还是很常见的，然而坎迪并不是很喜欢吃齁甜的蜂蜜，因为蜂蜜除了甜味只有甜味，没有什么特殊的味觉体验。

眼下，坎迪还在写一篇未完的小说。但他写了删，删了写，一直拿不定这部小说的结局。

“难办啊….” 坎迪皱了皱眉。他的小说以自己生活的俄罗斯小镇为背景，围绕着女主人公描写了当地居民的日常生活，虽然结构严谨，但还缺一个点睛之笔。

手边的蜂蜜咖啡已经有点凉了，虽然坎迪的家里有炉子，但老点着炉子会消耗大量的煤，带来一笔额外的开支。

“真没辙。” 坎迪叹了一口气，穿上皮大衣，打算出门逛逛。但他并没去男人们最常去的酒吧，相反，他去了镇中心一家专卖蜂蜜的小店。

“哟，今天也很精神嘛，大作家。” 蜂蜜店的女老板早就记住了常客坎迪，坎迪也经常来照顾女老板的生意。坎迪并不像镇上的酒店经理一样偶尔过来将店里的所有蜂蜜全数扫荡一空，买蜂蜜也不是仅仅为了吃蜂蜜——而是用来泡蜂蜜咖啡——但女老板反而对这位远道而来的异邦人有着特别的好感。

“托您的福，家里的蜂蜜又吃完了。” 坎迪不好意思地笑笑。

“你来的还真是时候，” 女老板转过身，“我们家刚做了一批特别浓稠的新货，只要几滴就能顶一罐普通蜂蜜的甜度。要试试看吗？” 她取出一个塑料汤匙，舀了一点试吃的蜂蜜，递给了坎迪。

坎迪轻轻把勺子送入了口中。”喔，“ 他有点吃惊，这花蜜真不是一般的甜，比齁甜还甜，一瞬间坎迪的舌头差点失去了感知甜味的能力。

”居然这么甜，这是什么品种的蜜？“

”野花蜜，也就是混合了很多种花蜜的蜂蜜。我不是蜜蜂，所以很抱歉，我不知道里面有哪些花的花蜜。“

”这蜜….一罐大概就够我吃一年了。话说，这蜜是怎么做出来的。“

“商业机密。” 女老板故作神秘地说道。“如果非要我破例告诉你的话….” 她慢慢把脸凑到了坎迪的耳朵旁边。坎迪大气不敢出，只是听着耳边女老板的呼吸声。

“Усердный.“ 女老板轻轻地耳语。

”原来如此吗…“ 坎迪明白了她的意思，也就是说，具体的制作方法仍然是秘密。虽然有点失望，但他还是掏出钱包，准备买一罐回去吃。

”这蜂蜜一罐多少钱。“

”五千卢布。“ 女老板没有错过坎迪一瞬间的犹豫，戏谑地说：”怎么，嫌贵？“

”不，不是嫌贵，“ 坎迪有点结巴，“只是有点出乎意料，而且我今天没带这么多钱。”

”你真是没辙….“ 女老板显得很不情愿的样子，”没办法，这罐蜜就看在我们这么多年的交情上，血亏卖给你了，你带了多少钱就给多少吧。觉得好吃，记得下次再来买。“

”真的没问题吗？我只带了三千五百卢布。“

”没问题，你带了三千五百就给三千五百，这罐蜂蜜就便宜卖你了。“

”好吧，多谢了。“ 坎迪不好意思地笑笑，递过一沓纸币。女老板点过钱，把蜂蜜包装好，交给了坎迪。

”愿你的生活如蜂蜜般甜蜜。“ 临走时，女老板用店里一代代传下来的格言和坎迪道别。

坎迪回到家，打开了蜂蜜的包装盒。包装盒里理所当然放着一罐蜂蜜，但除此之外，还放着一张便签纸。坎迪有点疑惑，他小心翼翼地拿过便签纸，正面是女老板写的几句话。

”嘿，小说家，既然你看见了这张纸，说明你已经收到我送的蜂蜜了。我知道你在写一篇不错的小说，其实我是你的读者之一，你的笔触给人一种温馨和甜蜜的感觉，但还缺一些核心性的主旨。“

坎迪笑了笑，”看来读者的眼睛是雪亮的。“

”这么说来，写小说就和炼制蜂蜜一样，都是需要精心设计的东西。今天送你的这种蜂蜜，是我用好几种不同的蜂蜜混合炼制而成的，每一罐蜂蜜都要炼制好几个礼拜，所以价格特别昂贵。希望你的小说也能像蜂蜜一样，让某位读者的生活充满甜蜜。“

坎迪发现便签纸的反面还写着什么。

”桂花蜜，椴树蜜，樱花蜜，松蜜。四种分别原产自中国，俄罗斯，日本，土耳其的蜂蜜，一比一混合后，微火缓慢熬制300小时，充分搅拌，迅速冷却后罐装。低温密封条件下保质期约为五到十年。“

”看来她最终还是把商业秘密告诉我了啊….这女老板，真是拐弯抹角。“ 坎迪无奈地吐槽。

虽然坎迪并没有用这罐蜂蜜来泡咖啡——反而把它珍重地陈列在架子上——但这时他想到了那篇未完小说的结局，结局该是什么样，坎迪有了绝赞的点子。

”这一定是个充满甜味的小说…“，坎迪轻声感叹。”…毕竟，从一开始，这篇小说就是以她为主角写的，果然，逃不出蜂蜜的主题吗。”

”啊嚏！“ 女老板打了个喷嚏，店员担心地问她是不是着凉了。

“没有，“ 她爽快的回答道，”只是有种什么秘密即将被公之于世的错觉。”

甜蜜的作家最先出现在SheepChef Blog。

十二月的天很冷。雪花，落在这座铜墙铁壁构筑的都市中，无言地冰封了每个人的内心。

深更半夜，在这天寒地冻的都市深处，某条小巷里，坐着个模糊的人影。晃晃悠悠，如喝醉了酒般，嘴里哔哔剥剥地，念叨着没完没了的牢骚话。

住在公寓里的我，为了散去身上暖炉炙烤的火气，穿着保暖睡衣，慢吞吞地挪到了阳台上，俯瞰着楼下巷子里，那个模糊的人影。

雪花自一周前就从未停止过她们的莅临。我哈了一口热气，顿时化作一阵白色的水雾，飘散在空气中。楼下的人影是谁？这大概不是我该考虑的问题。我如此漫不经心地想着，对着夜色发呆。

会不会是他？今天上午的某件事，让我对楼下人影的身份有了头绪。但我没能抓住这一瞬的灵光乍现，毕竟，我也只是个在悬崖上安居的凡人，因此只能慢条斯理地，端出一杯红茶，慢慢思考。

时间是上午十点，地点还是这座偏僻的公寓，天气一如既往地冷，雪依旧在下。

我窝在家里，一边敲键盘，一边烤着暖炉。鹅毛大雪下得没完没了，所以自上周起，公司不要求员工到岗，不过项目的进度却不能有丝毫的延迟。

楼下突然传来了人的争吵声，尽管我戴着耳机，依旧没能完全遮掩住这异物般嵌入耳朵中的噪音。于是我打开门，站到楼梯道口，向楼下悄悄望了望。

楼下，楼道里站着几个身材魁梧的男人，他们的中间夹着另一个看起来十分弱不禁风的男人，如果我没记错的话，他貌似是住在楼下的邻居。

“欠了这么多钱，你还敢回来？” 男人们毫不客气地大声呵斥。而邻居那边，只是低着头，什么话都不说，我看不见他脸上的表情。

邻居的门上早早地被贴上了法院的封条，具体是什么时候贴上的，没人记得，也没人关心。

“我…只是…想回来拿一件重要的东西。” 有气无力的话语，突然从那瘦弱男人的嘴里蹦了出来。“各位兄弟…你们…行个方便…可以吗？” 如摇尾乞怜般，邻居表达了他的小小愿望。

“谁跟你是兄弟？” 男人们再次呱噪起来，推推搡搡，把无助的邻居推到了门的一边。

但这时，不可预料的事情突然发生。仿佛寒冷的雪花为某位困境中的男人擦亮了意志之火，邻居以猝不及防的速度，用尽他全身的力气，把所有的挡道者推到了一边。在那帮头脑简单的催债人还没搞清楚情况之前，邻居迅速用钥匙打开门，揭掉封条，溜进了屋内，反锁了房门。

这还真是个令人惊叹的突然袭击，但我想，这也不过如此了。回到温暖的室内，我继续手头上的工作。催债的男人们自然不可能轻易罢休，噪声不断从楼下传来。

但我对此，只是有意无意地听着，从百分之百的专注中，抽出千分之一的注意力，注视着即将掉下悬崖的邻居。悬崖的边缘不断接近，只是我离危险的地方足够远，可以漠不关心地转身离去，但也总有某些人没那么幸运，即使拼死挣扎，也无法改变注定不幸的结局。

到了下午，雪依旧下个不停，但气温似乎又下降了不少。

楼下的噪声不知何时已经消失，男人们不见了踪迹。邻居那生锈的铁门上又被贴上了崭新的封条，但这次将永不再有碍事的人妄图揭开它。我走到了封条前，封条上写着邻居的名字，以及他牵涉到的案件。他所欠的款项在我看来堪称天文数字，但一间住宅的拍卖价格大概足以弥补债权人的损失了。

我回到了公寓里，手头上一天的工作接近尾声，于是我慵懒地横在了沙发上，泡了一杯热咖啡，享受工作日里难得的惬意。至于邻居的事情，没人再会关心，我大概也如此。

到了深夜，我走到阳台上，喝着红茶，回顾过去一天中的往事。阳台上的气温计指示着零下十五度的罕见低温，楼下的小巷中不知何时多出了一个模糊的人影。

正当我准备转身离去的一瞬，一声警笛打破了寒冷中的沉默，但这并不能阻止我离去的脚步。明天还有工作，生活还要继续，即使一切都被冰雪所覆盖，即使我时不时地回头看看悬崖的边缘究竟在哪。

一觉醒来，雪还在下，但小了许多。

公司吩咐今天可以去办公楼打卡，于是我穿戴整齐，踏出了公寓楼的大门。巷子里一如既往的冷清，但原本一成不变的小区公告栏，如今却添加了新的内容。

我凑近看了看，新的公告上刻着理所当然的文字。首先映入眼帘的是记忆中邻居的名字，接着是他的房屋被拍卖的消息。至于他的下落，这则公告只字未提。

然而我疏忽了一旁的某张看起来十分草率的讣告，上面是不知是谁手写的笔迹。邻居拼死把他最后的消息，带给了他唯一的小女儿。

讣告背后贴着一个信封，至于里面装了什么，想必只有某位小女孩有权知晓。

我不以为然地扫了一眼，然后缓步走出了小巷。

无需再多言什么，雪花已经把悬崖下的人埋进了冰堑中。对这一切保持沉默，是对逝者最大程度的尊重。

悬崖最先出现在SheepChef Blog。

Check Why Lived#2 and previous works if you are new to the novel.

Chapter III – Behold

The Observatory was colossal, and more or less, similar to a tree. It’s a white-ish ivory-colored silver tower with countless branches, like a bush pointing to the sky. I used to be curious about how many people it could hold, though it seemed that tower was never fully filled. The tower was shiny in the day and dazzled in the night, being popular at every moment.

The inside, however, was more like a hotel. There were 330 floors in total, though people rarely went up to the floors beyond 200th.The first floor was Ground Concourse, where a bar and a reception desk were settled and usually crowded, like the entry of a labyrinth in a park where it’s easier to sell something like bottled water and hotdogs. I usually went to the bar and got a cup of latte with double sugar for no reason, and sometimes I could encounter Ann here when she was drinking vodka. Anyway, the drink was always free and tasty, arousing my memories from deep inside.

It was in the afternoon when I returned to my room. A pigeon was tweeting outside the window which I penetrated. My room was tranquil. There was only me, invisibly, covered in the veil of dusk. I sneaked out of my apartment, floating in somewhere 20 meters above the ground. I saw my senior high school, named Pentamond, reflecting mild sunlight from its library tower.

My classroom was located on the third floor of the teaching building, which had nothing special. The boys and girls were listening to their class advisor addressing speech. They seemed to have no difference from yesterday, though my seat was, of course, vacant. I saw my friend Chris leaning against the wall. My deskmate, the sister of Chris, Christina, was dozing in a weird pose. Mr. Lax, the class advisor and our math teacher, was speaking seemingly energetic. Outside the window there was a sparrow, singing a random song.

My cold zombie-like body was lying somewhere in the hospital nearby. Deeply inside the hospital there existed a spacious room full of bodies. I at once regretted when I seeped in. There were bodies, the darkness, three ventilation shafts drilled on the ceiling, and then nothing. No sign of living being, except for a trivial spider creeping in a corner, could be seen. Well, obviously I prefer to sleep everlastingly in the classroom filled with sunshine, bird songs, casualness, and breezes. This somehow damp stinky confined room was awful, at least I didn’t tend to stay here for long. I could find my body lying in peace, covered by a great piece of white fabric. I touched my body, trying if I can control it, but in vain. “This is it.” I sighed. Maybe I was the first guy who confirmed his death in person. There was nothing I can do for now.

A tragedy was ongoing in the corridor outside. I didn’t realize its presence since all the sorrow were sucked out by a noisy fan. My mom was sitting, and dad was making phone calls. When I was presented to ICU my mom was informed that her son could live with lasting disabilities if lucky. Now there was only lasting despair, and my dead body, which was devoid of an interior soul of a boy.

“Are you alright?” My dad whispered to my mom. He forced himself to be superficially normal, but I knew he was almost at the edge. My mom said nothing in response but took a long trembling breath like a girl weeping in sadness. She wondered why her son chose such an unacceptable way to deal with his problems.

I landed on the floor in front of my mom’s face. For sure she didn’t see me. My hands reached hers, but never touched her. I would answer her doubt, just like uttering a mediocre story, but this time the only one who could hear it was the little sparrow outside the classroom, which was humming a casual song out of tune.

My story initially began in an ordinary afternoon on March 3rd, 2021. It was windy and chilly. The windows were closed and locked tightly, though it’s still not enough to prevent them from vibrating with wind.

I sat in a corner of my classroom, and Christina sat next to me. She was dozing in peace, while her brother Chris came and casually rambled with me.

“Sora,” he said. “How do you think of my sister?”

His sudden question made me incoherent. Christina was a great girl. She often wore a blouse or T-shirt in pink color. When I was sitting next to her, I usually felt the sweetness she had, but I knew nothing more than what kind of soda she liked to drink. At the moment she was slurping, so I smiled slily and said “Better than you” as a tricky response. Christina was not the main character in my lengthy story, after all.

A real inception was an examination, which, like the last straw to kill me, made all the difference.

In this school, the city I lived in, the province where the city located, and even the entire country, examinations, whether conspicuous or puny, were regarded as a way out, a dead cold-blood evaluating system, and the way I, together with my classmates, were forced to go on. Christina, however, with her parents’ sufficient and dedicated financial support, was released from the invisible brutal captivity. Chris was firstly cynical about this partiality, but eventually accepted the reality loathly, just like me.

An upcoming exam was scheduled on March 4th. There was not much time left. I certainly had no confidence in getting a satisfying mark on all subjects, Christina, in contrast, was indifferent. She didn’t need to take the exam, which was somewhat overwhelming difficult after all.

When I was standing in the Observatory, Mr. Lax was giving his lecture. He had a face giving everyone who had ever seen it an intuitive feeling that he was a man of logic, intelligence, and gentleness. He always wore a pair of silver-framed glasses. Aged 48, his beard was faintly snowish grey, but elegant in sight. His arms and legs were well muscled, all thanks to his passion on table tennis, though he often lost his game with his students.

Chris and his sister seemed normal in the classroom. Mr. Lax, somehow, frowned more often and nobody noticed the nuanced change in his mood. He got a phone call in the morning that one if his students suicided, which made him frozen at once. “Did he die?” He asked the police who called him, optimistically assuming the young teenager could somehow fortunately survive the suicide.

“Unfortunately,” the policeman uttered slowly and robotically, “he was dead. You were his teacher, right?”

“Yes, I was. May I somehow help you, officer?”

“You may be investigated, but now I am just informing you. Please give us some detail about the student when we ask you later.”

“With pleasure.”

Put down his phone, Mr. Lax slumped onto his bed in the chamber. His mind was chaotic, where countless problems spilled and overloaded. Would he be dismissed? How could he face to my parents? Could he tell my death in the class? Ultimately, why did the 17-year-old boy suicide in a sudden? He wanted to figure out all of these.

Mr. Lax set off to Pentamond as usual twenty minutes later. His consciousness was left behind his automatically moving body. Twenty minutes before it was a mundane day of ordinary routine and tenderness, and it all inverted in less than three minutes. He almost missed the commuter train as his legs moved significantly slower, as if there were three lead ingots attached to his legs, but I knew they were not on his legs, instead, overwhelming inside his heart.

While Chris managed to achieve one success after another, I failed my examination inevitably. I failed again a month later, and again on June 26th, 2021, the Final Exam of the semester. Failure was disappointing, but what actually eroding me was its side products, so to speak, negativeness. It’s an unnoticeable chronic process remained unaware until another failure on Oct.10th, 2021, when I was diagnosed severe depression, when, at least in my memory, my mom cried for the very first time.

I could hear that it was probably raining outside the Observatory. Ann, in the pure black outfit as always, was already sat in the bar drinking her regular vodka when I went down to the Ground Concourse. Her cheek flushed red. Maybe she was a little drunk.

It was, indeed, drizzling outside. I ordered a cup of latte, sitting next to Ann. I could feel a thick scent of alcohol coming from her body, but it was surprisingly nice to smell, blended with lavender aroma.

“Vodka?” I asked casually.

“Yea…h,” Ann burped. “It’s intense and hallucinating. Do you also want some?”

 “I prefer latte.” I took another sip of icy coffee. “Have to say, the flavor and texture are perfect.” The latte was bittersweet and smooth in flavor, which, to exaggerate, like drinking liquid silk.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” The barkeeper joined in our natter, wiping glasses although they were seemingly shiny and crystal.

“Working as a guide must be tiring, right?”

“More or less.” Ann finished another glass of vodka. “One fourth of Russian vodka and three fourth of Sprite, please.”

“In a second, ma’am.” The barkeeper sophisticatedly mixed vodka with some Sprite soda drawn from the pressure tank and passed the glass to Ann diagonally on the marble table.

“What do you actually do in your job?” I asked gently when Ann finished the last drop of her beverage in the glass.

“A goddamn piece of bullshit chores. I literally don’t know why there are so many people to guide, Yikes! Please save me!” Alcohol seemed to deprive the superficial shield of elegance from Ann. Well, somehow, she was charming even on the inside. At the moment I couldn’t withhold my intent to giggle, Ann collapsed onto the table and began to snooze.

“Sir,” the barkeeper smiled. “Could you look after the ma’am for a while lest she got a cold? It’s raining hard now.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” I ruffled her hair hoping that she would be waken, but she kept snoozing heavily like a drunk piglet, with her nose bubbling and spit leaking between her lips.

“Well,” I made an embarrassed smile. “I must somehow move her to the couch there. Could you do me a favor?” The barkeeper nodded.

I lifted Ann’s body, and the barkeeper lifted her legs. We silently moved Ann onto the couch, and I covered her body in my jacket. She slept in peace with maybe a sweet dream. Sitting near her head, I could listen to her steady breathing, gazing at the raindrop falling. This was what called an ordinary day, or, daily life, I guess.

Through Ann’s perfectly shaped face I could see Christina somewhere underneath. Christina was a girl of invulnerable tenderness and excessive loveliness, and Ann was an upgraded version of Christina, who secrete the enthusiasm behind apathy and superficially difficult characteristics, who only performed as herself when being overwhelmed be vodka, who was elegant but also straightforward. It was a pity that she died somehow on the Earth.

“Yo! Good evening, Ann.” She woke up 3 hours later, and I greeted her with a funny smile.

“How long did I sleep…” Ann stretched her limbs and drowsily asked me, like a girl woken up in the morning by her benevolent dad.

“Three hours, approximately.”

“Wait…What?! Three hours!” Ann seemed to be shocked.

“Anything wrong?”

“Wrong! It is very WRONG!!” Ann jumped up like a thunder bolt, and quickly grabbed everything on the couch. Her voice was as horrible as a mad lion starved for three weeks.

“Wait…But…” I tried to remind her that she was in my jacket, but she literally vanished before I could utter my words. Well, whatever, she would return my jacket in the future anyway.

“Some vodka, please.” I returned to the bar when the barkeeper was, as always, wiping the glasses.

“In a second, sir. Hopefully, you will be attracted by the unique flavor.” The barkeeper silently giggled, reflecting the prosperity of heaven on the shiny glass bottles.

“Do you know what do the guides do in their job?” I sipped some vodka and asked the barkeeper with curiosity.

“They do a lot of things, as I know.” The barkeeper frowned. “Their main task is to guide those who died to the gate of the heaven.”

“Anymore?”

“They also took the responsibility of leading the souls in heaven to the end of the River Forgotten, where the souls would be reincarnated.”

The tasks seemed to be reasonable. Since there were hundreds of thousands of people died every day, no wonder Ann was exhausted.

“Who has the right to be a guide?” I asked doubtfully.

“Everyone. The first generation of guide was introduced by Master Mercury and Master Pluto, soon everyone could voluntarily apply for a guide to gain something meaningful to do here, and to earn a silver daisy on their collars.”

It was nearly midnight when I stepped out of the Observatory. The rain had stopped since an hour ago, and the moon hanging in the sky was now sharing his loneliness with me walking along the River Forgotten.

“What was she doing?” I wryly smiled.

Pentamond was a somewhat excellent school as it was said, but it was definitely not a pleasant place to live for more than ten hours each day. If friendship, the tangible one, was compared with gold outside the confined high-voltage electric barriers made of stainless steel surrounding Pentamond, it was harder to get than to steal a legendary diamond from Louvre.

I, frankly, used to have such a diamond friend, who called Aoi. He somehow cruelly left me in a sudden one day.

My funeral was held five days after I died, on Dec.24th, 2021. The attendees were fewer than I imagined, but still filled up half of the chamber.

My parents were standing next to my coffin. Mr. Lax was also there three meters away, gazing at my face dyed like lime by whitish powder. Chris and Christina were sitting on the chair in the first row, constantly eye contacting each other without saying a word. My relatives sat in order, and I didn’t find Aoi anywhere in between them. He didn’t come, which was a bit disappointing, but never went beyond my expectations.

It was drizzling when the crowd was singing hymn and praying for my bliss and wellbeing after death. The cold raindrops didn’t more or less dilute the nearly solidified atmosphere, but somehow condensed the sadness. I slightly took a seat on the coffin, like an angel, though I more analogous to a hipster in appearance.

My mom was the first who burst into tears, then did my dad, then did Mr. Lax, and eventually did Christina. Chris, in the other hand, stayed silent with shiny pearls rolling back and forth in his eyes. He clutched the hands of his sobbing sister and gently wiped away the messes of tears on her face. At this moment, Chris, for the very first time, felt that he functioned as an actual big brother, comforting his only lovely sister, thus he mustn’t cry like a girl.

“Why did Sora suicide?” I could hardly understand her words uttered incoherently, but Chris clearly knew more about the code to communicate with his sister. He looked at Christina in the eyes with all his tenderness.

“I will definitely figure it out,” Chris tightened his eyes, “regardless of those banal adults who are likely to interpret Sora’s will in a misleading way. Christina, you can trust me. Please trust me.” He made the promise to his sister with a spark in his heart.

I quietly embraced them, the reliable elder brother and the sobbing younger sister, with my gratitude. It’s a magnificent moment. I literally felt that I was alive again, and suddenly, I could feel the warmth of their back, and I could sense the scent of shampoo from Christina’s hair. The brother and sister immediately turned around but found only nothingness. As swift as I suddenly somehow descended, I vanished.

“Did you feel something was behind us?” Chris confusedly asked.

“I thought it was my illusion, and now it seemed wasn’t.”

“Let me guess, is it cold and nasty, like a piece of icy slime liquid?”

“Maybe…I think that’s it.”

I was certainly disappointed to have such a terrifying touch on them, so I left the funeral and flew crisscrossing the city.

Aoi was shopping with his girlfriend in a supermarket. They are surrounded by ethereal happiness, and my diamond fiercely shattered into nonentity. I didn’t feel sad though, since I’d found a more precious pearl in Chris’s eyes.

Ann was waiting in the Ground Concourse when I tended to get another cup of latte. She was in my jacket, but also covered in her regular black coat. Luckily, it was no longer raining outside, so no more cold winds and droplets.

“I am right out here for you, Sora.” Ann said seriously with his cheek jerked. Her eyes were sharply scanning me in an unheralded way, which made me a little nervous.

“That’s strange. Have you fall in love on me?”

“Absolutely not, you twit. All thanks to someone who bred a mystery.” Ann sat down on the couch, and I sat opposite to her. She was somehow angry as her face was tight and solid.

“You bred a mystery, which is a big problem.”

“Wait, what is a ‘mystery’? I think you need to elucidate in advance.”

“Did you touched someone on the Earth and let them perceive you?”

“Kind of? I wasn’t sure.” I turned my head to the sky outside the window, and the clouds were flowing, formed a beautiful cyanotype. I was grateful if they really felt me, so I made a faint smile. Hopefully, Ann didn’t notice that.

“All in all, what I said was called ‘mystery’, an unusual incident that shouldn’t happen.” Ann took a sigh. “If such a thing happens too frequently, you may be forced to be reincarnated.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “I will be cautious. Besides…” Ann was rarely seen in the Observatory, so I wanted to grab a chance to natter with her.

“Ann, I wanted to know why you are dead. It, somehow, means a lot to me.” I stumbled with my cheek flushing red, like a mediocre teenager.

“Umm…” Ann thought for a second and agreed my request.

“I am glad to tell the story, but I need a glass of lemonade vodka.” Ann smiled with casualness.

“And I will listen with my pleasure.” I gently brought a glass of lemonade vodka from the bar, as well as my little cup of latte.

I could hear the ice knocking the glass, making a ringing sound of noise, which was blew out and dissolved in the breeze. Ann was there in front of me, sitting in silence, and I was looking at her in the eyes, with my heart flickering.

To be continued…

Author’s Comment

More deeply and detailedly, the story marches slow.

The next chatper will include the little story between Ann and Sora, deepening their relationship, and more precisely depict Ann’s personality.

Chatper III is long, I literally don’t know what comes next. Anyway, enjoy the story.

Why Lived#3最先出现在SheepChef Blog。

Check Why Lived #1 if you are new to the story.

Chapter II – Life

Life is convenient in heaven, at least, much easier than it was on Earth. There is no need for me to eat, drink, take a shower, go to a toilet, and even sleep.

The only flower allowed to grow here is Lycoris Radiata, of which the scarlet color astonished me at first. Day cycles slowly, though, I didn’t find anyone I could recognize here in the early days. There are Lycoris fields distributed like chessboard, and what in the very center is the Observatory, a gigantic tree-like tower where I can stay for an entire day, the only ports between two worlds.

I can watch everything happened on Earth, though I can’t physically affect it. Even if it’s kind of playing Minecraft in spectator mode, many people stayed here for more than a decade, even centuries. Here I can review and witness my life and other lives regardless of my death. Anyways, my life in heaven really begins here in an insignificant branch of the Observatory. Aside from observing, there are literally nothing fun to do.

Sun rose in quietude when I came back to my little room. My mom was already preparing my breakfast and I could hear the sizzling oil in the pan. The window was open and an ambulance arrived, making noisy alarm sound echoing between apartments.

Nobody acknowledged my death yet, and it was an ordinary morning up until then.

My mom was a diligent woman, a go-getter. She persisted on running in the field for a few dozen rounds every weekend, and it’s a pity that she was forced to stop by a tumor growing in one of her bosoms. The cancer was cured, though, her immune system was nearly destroyed by treatments, which made her chubby and weaker.

Despite all of these, she still managed to be optimistic and take care of her only kid. She rarely cried, and the last time she cried, well, I remembered that it was after she knew that I had got depression and tended to cut myself. I felt miserable each time when I reviewed these things in mind.

I heard the step sounds of my mom going upstairs. At the moment she knew nothing about what she would realize very soon. It was heartbreaking, though I was an invisible beholder standing in heaven. When I saw she twisting the door handle, I cut off the connection, like a little boy watching horror movies, and stepped out of the Observatory with no turning back.

It was night outside the tower. Scarlet flowers were glowing red like tiny lanterns. I lay on meadow and saw a couple of meteors traveling out there. Wind was whispering. I could see the Observatory settled everlastingly all the way up to the firmament, like a sort of ancient tomb stone.

“You look weird, don’t you?” It’s Ann, looking down at me sardonically. She was still covered in pure black outfit, which made her look elegant more or less.

“Nothing, I am just breathing some fresh air here.” I answered sneakily, thinking that the girl was, well, such a weird guy, and she would look better in a purple suit.

“You can’t lie me, and I like to wear black coat, by the way.” Ann spoke like a robot, I literally couldn’t get any emotions in her voice.

“Your daisy is turning red.” Ann suddenly noticed.” It means that your body on Earth he’s either burning to ash, or getting rotted, so you absolutely lost your chances to go back, I mean, by something medical.” I nodded with a sigh. It’s ok-ish though. I like the life in heaven, after all.

“Do you want to join me?” Ann sat down, gazing at somewhere. “Join the guide team of heaven.” She asked quietly. “Life is somehow boring here, right?”

I looked at Ann’s collar and found her daisy was grey. I was increasingly curious about this girl, though I eventually said nothing and gazed at her side until she vanished like a ghost. Who knows? Maybe I would join her in the future.

I was determined to go back to the Observatory the next morning. I wanted to witness everything however delightful or miserable, though I was afraid to see if there were anything bad happened.

To be continued…

Author’s Comment

Although nobody alive know what exactly the heaven looks like, I have my own imagination about the heaven.

Lycoris, as mentioned, is a kind of red flower which is commonly to symbolize death, also known as “Flower of the other side”. In my own version of heaven, the flower is ubiquitous.

Anyways, the next chapter will be certainly longer, depicting what is going on in the observation of Sora.

Why Lived #2最先出现在SheepChef Blog。

Hi, what you are reading is a novel written casually by SheepChef. I’ve been writting the novel for a considerably lengthy period. Since I am not very proficient in English, there probably will be some error.

The novel is about, as the title mentioned, death, but in an unsual way. I need to say that the very book inspired me is Lovely Bones, which made me thinking the story in my own version.

Read with joy and ease. Hopefully you will somewhat like my story.

Chapter I – NIGHT

I always feel nostalgic when reminiscing about that doomed night.

Wind was fiercely blowing through my body. Despite the cold wind, I could literally think about many things then. There was no moon in the sky, thus no moonshine, but I still felt that the plain scene of apartments was somehow very different from usual. They were dazzling but knocking the bell of my internal clock.

It’s, maybe approximately, 2 a.m. Aside from winds, there was only hush. As my expectation, there were nobody noticed my presence, though I felt a little sad. Time was ticking. I finally found the last sparkle of artificial light disappeared. It’s my moment to act, and my last moment of choice.

“Everything is fine, no, will be fine.” I tried to convince myself. In the last hour, I had thought everything I would possibly thought about, and it’s the time to give the world an ultimate answer.

“My lord, if there was actually a lord, I hope that I can at least, have a life of happiness next time.” I took a deep breath, and prayed for my fortune before the definitive moment. Trees sizzled downside, and I took a step, that final step, ahead.

I experienced the feeling of riding a roller coaster for the very last time. I could see the moon somehow, though maybe it’s just a lamp near the pavement. I heard the aria of gravity singing for everyone who tend to escape from its cage, everybody failed, by the way. My memory was fuzzy then, with my vision blurring out. When I closed my eyes thinking “That’s it”, like a toy robot disconnected from its controller, I found myself standing still on the ground, wondering what’s going on.

“It’s strange.” I murmured. In theory, I should be very dead then. After all, almost nobody could survive a 20-meter free fall. By all means, I believed I was certainly dead, and the situation was a kind of after-death spiritual stray, a stage of ghost.

“Alas!” A bizarre voice of a girl suddenly emerged, which amazed me. A girl wearing black outfit, looked lovely but sacred, just appeared from nowhere. The girl in a black coat, who called herself Ann, gave me a certification of my death, more precisely, the No.9722852033th person died on the planet Earth. The number increases by a million each day, she added. She also informed that she would guide me until I was died as a soul, giving a everything on the planet Earth, and then reincarnated. I thought she was someone like Mercury in myth.

I stood on the lane downside my apartment building, and I soon found my dead body lying in peace. It’s a little bit fractured though, like a puppet thrown as trash. I asked Ann if my body would be disposed properly. She said that I could watch it in person later on.

Ann inscribed a mark of daisy on my collar, which was said to be a symbol of death, though it was transparent.

I left my dead body, or, was dragged away. Ann clutched my hands and sailed with me far from the distinguishable night. We flew considerably fast, maybe speedier than light. “Where will we arrive?” Ann didn’t answer. I gazed at her black hairs and her face soaked in indifference. She just looked ahead in spite of the nothingness in front of us. Her hand was cold and coated with a smooth texture, Somehow I felt that she was someone I was familiar with, maybe her indifference was so enchanted to me.

We finally arrived at somewhere a glorious customs-like gate was settled. “The Gate of Death” Ann said. “This is one of them, responsible for the northern eastern hemisphere, located at somewhere 50km beyond the top of Mount Everest. There are four of them in total.”

Whoa. I was surprised. Behind the gate there was an infinitely expanding megacity, which let me think about a Disney movie. “No, it is nothing like the movie.” Ann said without looking at me. “If you believed in any religion, you would be sent to other specific religious world created by ancestors, and those who didn’t would be sent to here, well, universally, so to speak, heaven.”

There was no exit in the gate, which was rational since there was certainly no turning back for a dead man. Ann let me passed the gate, where I noticed that the transparent daisy mark on my collar turned golden.

“Now, formally,” Ann looked at me in the eyes. “Welcome to heaven. I sincerely inform you that you won’t grow old, experience any pain, and interact with anyone alive. You will be reincarnated once you are ready. I am Ann, your guide in heaven. I will be there if you need me. Enjoy your upcoming live in heaven.” Ann swiftly uttered like a rapper reciting lyrics. There were clouds, floating like marshmallows, beneath us.

“I am Landon, Landon Sora, in case you need to know, Ann.”

Nobody answered my words. I noticed that Ann disappeared somehow, as mysterious as how she firstly appeared. What remained was a imposing silent scenery of dawn, and the lycoris grown alongside my way ahead.

The night was over, I sighed with a bittersweet smile, wondering how it would be today without my presence on Earth.

To be continued.…

Author’s Comments

Well, this is a part of my chatty words.

I don’t think dying is a good thing or bad thing. Everyone dies, so there is nothing scary.

I didn’t explicitly elucidate that the character suicided in the chapter. In the next chapter there will be some more depiction of heaven and Ann. Being alive is hard, but somehow worthwhile.

Why Lived #1最先出现在SheepChef Blog。