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墨書 Inktalez
Lin Zhao Cheng curled up on the sofa, unsure how much time had passed. Time felt like a stagnant pool, devoid of ripples or sound, only his stiff posture and the frantic beating of his lifeless heart.
His mind was blank, yet it replayed the events that had just occurred countless times: Wang Mama's laughter, her hands, her soup, her final words...
"I'll come find you again... you little pervert."
"Damn."
He finally snapped back to reality, his throat dry as if he had swallowed sand. His vacant eyes stared at the ceiling before slowly lowering to look at his lap.
He silently gazed at that spot for a long time, a wave of indescribable humiliation, anger, absurdity, disgust, and an unspeakable sorrow rising within him.
He was in his thirties or forties; why was this happening to him?
He wasn't a brash twenty-year-old; such absurd scenes shouldn't occur in his life, shouldn't happen at this stage, and certainly—shouldn't exist in any normal person's world!
Yet it happened. It happened starkly and undeniably to him, leaving an indelible stain on his memory.
What should he do? What could he do?
Lin Zhao Cheng's fingers trembled slightly as his gaze remained fixed on his lap. Suddenly, a mad thought crossed his mind—
Why not just end it all?
What was the point of keeping this? Since it had brought him to such depths, made him fall into this situation, turned him into Wang Mama's "little pervert"...
Perhaps it would be better to let it all end.
This way, he wouldn't have to face this humiliation anymore, wouldn't have to fear Wang Mama's laughter again, and wouldn't have to feel this ridiculous, absurd, and indescribable sorrow...
His fingers curled slightly, as if he were about to make a fist or reach out to do something.
Then—
He gave up.
"It hurts so much..."
He murmured softly, his voice hoarse and barely audible.
This thought only circled around in his mind before he forcefully suppressed it.
He simply couldn't dare to act; he couldn't do it.
He was just an ordinary person, unable to accept such an absurd reality. How could he possibly bring harm to himself?
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then curled up even tighter, as if trying to shrink himself down to nothingness, to the point where even he couldn't find himself.
The day wasn't even over yet, and he was already exhausted to the point of not wanting to live.
Lin Zhao Cheng slumped weakly on the sofa, his mind blank, even thinking had become sluggish.
He didn't know if it was because the shock of what had just happened was too overwhelming or if the nightmarish ordeal had truly drained too much of his energy. All he felt was that his body had been taken apart and put back together again, every bone and muscle no longer felt like they belonged to him.
The most noticeable pain was in his waist—
It hurt like it had been smashed with a hammer, a dull ache embedded deep into his bones, sore, numb, swollen, and painful, making it nearly impossible for him to sit up straight.
"Damn... this is really the end..."
He weakly murmured to himself, not wanting to go outside, feeling as if he barely had the strength to stand.
At that moment, his gaze slowly drifted toward the center of the living room, where the Massage Chair stood silently.
—For some reason, it looked gentler and safer than ever before.
The world had become crazy and absurd, and he even began to doubt his own existence. Yet, this Massage Chair—it had always been there, motionless, waiting for him, never mocking him, never bullying him, never making him feel humiliation or pain.
“At least… at least this chair won’t hurt me, right?”
He slowly stood up, his steps unsteady as he dragged his seemingly falling-apart body inch by inch toward the chair.
When he finally stood before the Massage Chair, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath. His fingertips trembled as they lightly touched its armrest—
The cool sensation of Leather greeted him, remarkably solid, gentle, and reliable, as if it understood his fatigue and pain, willing to accept him unconditionally, to embrace him and allow him to rest.
—The only safe haven in this world.
Lin Zhao Cheng didn’t think any further; he simply sat down slowly, leaning deeply into the backrest of the chair. It felt as if only by doing so could he finally regain a bit of security, a bit of breathing space.
At that moment, a terrifying thought suddenly flashed through his mind—
What if… if I could stay here forever, would I no longer have to face the outside world?
Lin Zhao Cheng sank deeply into the Massage Chair, his back pressing closely against the cushion. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath—
A faint scent of aged Leather filled his nostrils; it was a smell marked by time, steady and gentle, like a remnant of some long-forgotten memory that made one unconsciously relax.
This chair was no longer new; its surface showed signs of wear, and in some places, the Leather even glimmered slightly—a testament to years of contact with the human body. Yet all of this made it feel even warmer.
More reliable than anyone else.
He slowly extended his hand, his fingertips gliding gently over the armrest before finally landing on the control panel. Without hesitation, he pressed down.
"Vroom—"
The massage chair began to move.
The rollers glided along his back, and the air cushions enveloped his waist, as if invisible hands were applying a reassuring pressure, gently and precisely kneading all his pain points.
With every roll and every squeeze, it struck true, reaching deep into his muscles, gradually releasing the tension in those sore spots.
"Ah..."
Lin Zhao Cheng couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as his shoulders slowly relaxed. His spine gradually melded into the backrest, as if being embraced by the chair, warmly, silently, and unconditionally accepting him.
This warmth seeped from his skin into his bones, from his bones into his heart, as if some wondrous force surrounded him, allowing him to gradually let down all his defenses and sink into a profound sense of security.
He had never felt this safe before.
He didn't understand why this chair could give him such a feeling, as if it were not just an ordinary piece of furniture but something… something he was destined to possess.
More trustworthy and dependable than anyone in this world.
Warmth, reassurance, tranquility…
Lin Zhao Cheng sank deeply into the embrace of the massage chair. The contours of the cushion conformed to his spine while the air bags gently contracted, wrapping around his limbs and waist. The pressure was both firm and gentle, like invisible arms tightly holding him in a carefree world.
It felt as though… he had returned to his mother's womb.
It is a place full of warmth, a place where one does not need to think, endure, or struggle. No pain, no responsibility, no shame, no oppression and scrutiny from the world. He was surrounded by a layer of warm amniotic fluid, like an invisible velvet blanket, tightly wrapping his body and gently supporting every inch of his skin. He doesn't need to breathe on his own, this warmth provides him with oxygen; he doesn't need to make decisions on his own, the world has arranged everything for him. He just floated quietly, being cared for, protected, and accepted - that was the starting point of his life, the purest state that was closest to "existence". He had never felt such pure love. The feeling of security was so intoxicating that it nearly brought him to tears. His soul seemed to be redeemed at this moment. All the fatigue, the humiliation, and the burdens that weighed on him slowly dissolved and disappeared in the tranquil amniotic fluid. The outside world is too cruel, too cold, full of betrayal, ridicule, responsibility and pain. But here... there is no hurt, no pressure, no pain, only a pure tolerance, as if this warm amniotic fluid is whispering to him: Come back, stay here, don't go back to that cruel world. Lin Zhao Cheng's fingertips trembled slightly, and he felt his consciousness gradually melting and being swallowed up by this sense of security. He wanted to open his eyes, but found that he could no longer move, or rather, he did not want to move at all. He finally came home. He never wants to leave here again. He would like to sit here forever and never leave.
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