Chapter 111: The Last Sip of the First Bottle of Wine

“Finally, it’s here.” With a glance from the corner of his eye, Luo Hanya discerned a flickering light in the blurred darkness, seemingly within reach. His tattered clothes and bloodied flesh were but distant sighs of the past. At this moment, that white lamp shone like the finger of Jesus reaching out to Adam during creation—carrying all hope and strength, it brought vivid brightness to this bleak monochrome ghost realm.

“Foolish man, why such stubbornness? That lamp does not belong to you, nor does it serve any purpose for you. Why cling to it so desperately?” The crow ruffled its feathers for a moment and spoke in human tongue.

Luo Hanya said nothing, his right hand unwaveringly reaching toward the white lamp. Only when his fingers finally touched it did he slowly close his eyes, carefully calming himself. A wave of exhaustion surged through his body like the tide. This pleasant weariness easily engulfed him, much like the black sea nearby, rising and falling, swallowing everything in its path.

……

“Where am I? What happened to me?” Luo Hanya coughed, barely opening his eyes and staring confusedly at his surroundings. Black waves surged against him, while jagged black rocks lay just within reach.

At the seashore? Luo Hanya rolled over and tried to push himself up with his hands, only to feel sharp fragments of stone piercing his skin, drawing blood. It was then that he realized the ground beneath him was covered entirely with small, sharp pebbles. Cold seawater seeped through the tiny wounds, sending a tingling sensation through his body that involuntarily invigorated his spirit.

“Cough, cough, cough…” Only now did Luo Hanya notice something filling his lungs—something indescribable. He couldn’t form words; his throat burned with bitterness and dryness, as if it no longer belonged to him. His limbs tingled with numbness, and his skin clung to his body like a parched sponge, so fragile that the slightest touch threatened to break it apart.

Squinting against the waxen sun hanging over the black sea, Luo Hanya adjusted his position to find some comfort. Reluctantly, his mind churned: “So, I really spent last night in a place like this? Soaked in seawater and dried out by the sea wind?”

“But everything I experienced last night was real. Was it all the doing of that man in white? The feeling of brushing past death is truly strange.”

“The Tide of Death is indeed a fascinating place…”

“Awake already?” An abrupt voice jolted Luo Hanya’s entire body, bitterness flooding him. He stiffly turned his head, bracing to face another ghost.

“Heh, don’t be nervous. I’m not like that fellow.” Luo Hanya turned his head to see a weathered middle-aged man drinking, the same man, Oushinan, who had watched the spectacle with the man in white the night before.

“Heh, I…” Luo Hanya strained to move his throat, hoping to utter a few clear sounds, but it was futile. No matter how hard he tried, no complete word emerged.

Oushinan glanced at Luo Hanya struggling on the ground, chuckled, then raised his bottle and took a hearty swig before letting out a satisfied burp.

Luo Hanya’s facial muscles twitched. He thought this strange middle-aged man was mocking him; the drinking seemed deliberate.

“Ah, this is a good thing.” Oushinan weighed the bottle in his hand, limping forward with evident soreness, and pressed the bottle to Luo Hanya’s lips. “Saved the last drop for you, kid. Consider yourself lucky.”

Understanding the implied meaning, Luo Hanya imagined what his expression might look like if he could make one—it would surely be striking. He secretly mused, “A peculiar middle-aged man saves me the last sip of alcohol and says it’s a favor? Could it be some rare divine liquor? Like in martial arts tales, where the hero, after leaping off a cliff, meets an unparalleled master who first heals his wounds, then imparts unbeatable martial arts secrets?”

Luo Hanya glanced behind him, confirming the cliff he had seen yesterday. “Could it be that I really jumped off that cliff? Is everything unfolding like the protagonist’s journey?” This thought stirred a flicker of excitement in his heart.

“Hey! Are you going to drink it or what? If you don’t, I’m taking it back!” Oushinan’s eyes flashed, clearly threatening to snatch the bottle away at any moment.

Luo Hanya dared not delay. Forcing a smile, he took the bottle between his lips and drank the remaining liquor without using his hands.

“How is it? Not bad, right?” Oushinan looked at him expectantly, waiting for praise.

“Mm… mm…” Luo Hanya nodded vigorously, trembling hands still holding the bottle.

Oushinan pulled another bottle from somewhere, grinning proudly and downing a swig. “Heh, this is the wine I’ve been drinking for years. Nowadays, I buy it daily, but the supply is limited. Every drop I share with you is one less for me! Ah, I’m really generous.”

Luo Hanya first froze, then erupted into a violent cough. His throat burned fiercely, as though aflame, and most of the liquor he had just swallowed was expelled.

“Oh! Look at you! You wasted the very last sip of my first bottle today! Do you know how much resolve it took to save that for you?” Oushinan was momentarily stunned, then scolded Luo Hanya with righteous indignation.

Meanwhile, Luo Hanya’s heart sank deeper. His body trembled slightly, and dry tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes. Inwardly, he bitterly complained, “This is just ordinary wine! And cheap at that! No aroma, just a burning sting! Yet he says it took great resolve to save it for me? What a disappointment…”

Oushinan raised an eyebrow, watching Luo Hanya close his eyes in silent frustration with mild amusement. “Alright, alright, I won’t tease you anymore.”

“Huh?” Luo Hanya opened his eyes, looking at Oushinan with hopeful anticipation.

“After all, I’m no longer an obstacle to you. Besides, I think this is for the best. You should head back soon—don’t waste your time here.”

“You…”

“Remember this: I’m Oushinan.” Oushinan gave Luo Hanya a deep look, then miraculously produced another bottle, pressing it into Luo Hanya’s mouth once more. “Drink up. This is the real last sip of my first bottle today. Drink it quickly and heal those wounds!”

The moment the liquor entered his body, a warm current spread through Luo Hanya from head to toe, followed by a profound tingling and refreshing coolness.

Waves of comfort surged into his mind, overwhelming him with an irresistible pleasure that escaped all control. A blissful moan escaped his lips: “Ah…”