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墨書 Inktalez
Lin Zhao Cheng took a deep breath and raised his hand to lightly slap his face, a bit harder than usual. The crisp sound echoed loudly in the quiet space, and he hoped to wake himself up, dispelling the inexplicable desires swirling in his mind.
“Calm down, just wait until I get home… just wait until I get home…”
He murmured softly to himself, trying to make this phrase a sort of self-hypnotic mantra. There was no way he could actually sit back down here; that would be too strange. Yet, his body remained in a subtly tense state, every muscle seemingly still holding onto the memory of the recent massage—faintly, anxiously, longingly—wanting to sink back into that soft chair once more.
His toes unconsciously curled slightly, and then his feet moved forward half a step.
Just one more step, and he could sit back down…
In that instant—
“Here I come!”
A cheerful voice broke through his thoughts.
Lin Zhao Cheng felt as if something had yanked him back to reality; he snapped to attention, standing up straight as his heart involuntarily quickened. He quickly turned his gaze toward the source of the voice.
A young man was pushing a rusty iron cart that wobbled as it rolled forward, the wheels squeaking on the ground, clearly worn out but still functional. He wore a relaxed expression with a hint of pride on his face, as if he had just accomplished something significant.
Seeing this, Lin Zhao Cheng hurriedly shifted his gaze away, pretending to inspect other corners of the warehouse to avoid appearing as if he had almost done something strange moments ago. He instinctively cleared his throat, trying hard to look natural, though his fingers couldn’t help but tighten slightly by the seam of his pants.
The young man remained oblivious and continued striding over with the cart, smiling as he said, “Mr. Lin, come help me out. We need to lift this Massage Chair onto the cart. It’s not something one person can handle alone.”
“Oh, sure.” Lin Zhao Cheng replied, taking a deep breath and trying to make his movements appear casual as he walked toward the Massage Chair to assist with the lifting. He forced himself not to dwell on or revisit that strange impulse from earlier, yet a lingering sense of emptiness remained within him.
Could he really hold off until he got home?
The two bent down together, inhaled deeply, grasped both sides of the Massage Chair firmly with their hands, and then exerted their strength to lift the heavy object off the ground. The Massage Chair was heavier than Lin Zhao Cheng had imagined; its mechanical structure made it feel like a solid block of iron—so heavy that it almost made him wonder if something it shouldn’t contain was hidden inside.
“Hey! Easy now… yeah, yeah, just a bit to the left…” The young man directed while bracing the chair with his shoulder and panting slightly.
Lin Zhao Cheng gritted his teeth as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His arms tensed up as they slowly placed the Massage Chair onto the cart together. When it finally settled securely on the metal frame of the cart, they both exhaled in relief.
“Phew—this thing is really heavy.” The young man shook out his arms and laughed while patting the edge of the cart. “If it weren’t for its good features, who would even buy this?”
Lin Zhao Cheng did not respond, merely reaching back to adjust his waist. In that fleeting moment, he found himself somewhat unaccustomed to the absence of the Massage Chair, as if just a few minutes away had already prompted his muscles to protest.
The young man did not notice his discomfort and expertly pushed the cart toward the door. The iron wheels clattered over the debris on the ground, the echo resonating clearly in the dim warehouse.
As he stepped outside—
The harsh light of dusk pierced Lin Zhao Cheng's eyes mercilessly.
He blinked rapidly, his vision momentarily blurring and dazzling. The sunset's glow filtered through the gaps between low buildings, warming his forehead and causing a slight sting at the corners of his eyes.
Raising a hand to shield part of the light, he struggled to adjust from the dimness of the warehouse to the bright outdoors. After a few seconds, his vision finally cleared.
The Massage Chair was carefully lifted by two people and placed in the trunk, its heavy weight causing the entire car to sink slightly. With a thud, the young man slammed the trunk shut and patted the back of the car to ensure everything was secure.
At that moment, Lin Zhao Cheng had already settled into the driver's seat, starting the engine. The low rumble filled the car, clearly indicating his eagerness to leave this place.
The young man walked over with a smile, leaning against the window. He waved at him cheerfully, saying, "Mr. Lin, I hope this Massage Chair meets your expectations! If you need anything next time, feel free to come find me; we might be able to do business again!"
Lin Zhao Cheng paused for a moment at "next time."
A strange feeling stirred within him, but he brushed it aside and simply nodded lightly. He placed his hand on the gear shift and pressed down on the accelerator, preparing to depart.
The car slowly rolled away, tires crunching over gravel and kicking up a faint cloud of dust that hung in the sunset's glow like a memory awakened, reluctant to settle.
The young man stood still in place, hands tucked into the oil-stained pockets of his overalls, slightly tilting his head back as he watched the vehicle carrying the Massage Chair fade into the distance.
His eyes narrowed slightly as they reflected the soon-to-disappear taillights, their brightness gradually swallowed by the dimming sky. The outline shrank smaller until only a faint shadow remained before it completely vanished into the vast horizon.
Only then did his smile truly emerge.
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as if he had just unraveled a complex puzzle. Then that smile spread wider, tinged with amusement and satisfaction, along with an unmistakable sense of pride—as if he had just sent off not an ordinary customer but a participant in a game with a predetermined outcome.
The license plate number was no longer visible, yet his smile grew broader as if some long-suppressed pleasure had finally been released. He chuckled softly, his laughter like a small stone dropped into still water, creating gentle ripples.
"Hope he finds it... comfortable."
His voice was as light as a whispering breeze on the verge of fading, yet it carried an unusual emotion, a kind of almost obsessive delight, like an artist who had just completed a masterpiece, unable to resist murmuring praises for his own work.
Then, he laughed.
At first, it was merely a slight curl of his lips, followed by a soft chuckle, and then—
“Ha ha… ha ha ha… ha ha ha ha—!”
The laughter suddenly erupted, like an unstoppable torrent surging from his chest, echoing throughout the desolate outskirts.
This laughter was not simple; it was not just joy. It was deep, prolonged, imbued with an indescribable excitement, even resembling a pure, unsettling ecstasy.
The air around seemed to tremble with his laughter. The old Iron Shed quivered gently, and several casually stacked cardboard boxes were swept up by the wind, tumbling toward the corners as if some invisible force was twisting the entire space.
The young man's shadow stretched long and distorted across the ground in the setting sun, shaking with his trembling shoulders, as if some strange life were writhing and growing on the surface.
“Ha ha ha ha ha—”
This laughter echoed endlessly in the empty warehouse, in the silent dusk, beneath the gradually dimming sky, echoing, echoing…
Until darkness completely enveloped the world.
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