Mohan’s pupils shrank sharply. Without even thinking, he lunged forward, his ghostly form passing right through Bai Ziyan and Duan Cang, as well as through the safety harness that was about to come apart.
He could not even send a shiver down their spines with a cold touch like a legendary ghost.
“Bai Ziyan! Bai Ziyan!”
“Duan Cang!”
Mohan desperately shouted Bai Ziyan and Duan Cang’s names, but they had no reaction whatsoever. The two of them were even chatting and laughing casually, just like in any ordinary competition, so relaxed and breezy as if they were not currently fifty meters up in the air, but rather lounging on a plush sofa.
“Scared?”
“Ha, it’s just a piece of cake. Let’s see who yells out first—whoever does is a coward. Dare to make a bet?”
“What’s there not to dare?”
Mohan, shouting at the top of his lungs, and the two men chatting and laughing formed a ludicrously dark comedy.
The roller coaster screamed downward, kicking up a gust of wind. Mohan stayed closely by Bai Ziyan’s side, calling their names without giving up.
The harness that was on the verge of coming undone barely managed to survive the first major peak. Before Mohan could even exhale in relief, the harness completely declared failure. Bai Ziyan seemed to sense something was amiss as well; he lowered his head in bewilderment, but before he could clearly see what was happening, the coaster began accelerating once more.
Damn it,
For the first time in his life, Mohan cursed out loud. He desperately wanted to grab Bai Ziyan and Duan Cang by their ears and force them to look down.
When they reached the peak, this tattered safety belt who knew how many years old it was might snap instantly, and at that moment Bai Ziyan would be flung out by centrifugal force like a single drop of water off an umbrella!
Time and again, Mohan tried to touch Bai Ziyan, and time and again, he passed right through his body.
While trying, he constantly raised his head to look at the approaching peak.
Amidst Mohan’s repeated attempts, the bell rang. This time, they would plunge downward from a height of fifty-two meters, then experience the wonderful sensation of eight consecutive head-first loops defying gravity, heading toward the finish line amidst screams.
The final safety protection on Bai Ziyan’s body would definitely not survive the subsequent eight plunges.
The coaster began accelerating downward. With red eyes, Mohan lunged forward and hugged him fiercely once again.
Amidst a chorus of screams, Bai Ziyan abruptly stiffened his body.
Something had wrapped around his waist.
Holding Bai Ziyan, Mohan tightly and desperately anchored him to the seat.
Stiffening his body, Bai Ziyan began to wonder if he was hallucinating due to the intensely thrilling ride.
On a roller coaster, someone was hugging his waist?
To achieve this posture, the person’s upper body below the chest would have to be flung outside of the coaster car. Lowering his gaze, he saw clearly that there was nothing there.
Yet the sensation around his waist grew increasingly real. Through his thin T-shirt, he could almost feel the other person’s icy body temperature.
The thrills brought by the subsequent eight plunges were not even half as intense as the sensation around his waist, and Bai Ziyan truly did not let out a single sound.
Perhaps it was Bai Ziyan’s silence that caught Duan Cang’s attention. He turned his head, wanting to laugh and tease Bai Ziyan amidst the roaring wind, but his pupils suddenly constricted—
To his utter shock, he saw Mohan.
In the gale whipped up by the roller coaster, Mohan was tightly hugging Bai Ziyan. The fierce wind whipped his form until he swayed and fluttered, looking practically like a wisp of blue smoke in the breeze.
His complexion was pale, his lips light in color, save for his pitch-black eyes, which carried a desperate, do-or-die resilience.
Duan Cang was struck with doubt and alarm. Wanting to straighten up to look closer, he was pinned firmly to his seat until the bell rang. When he looked up again, there was nothing left to see.
Simultaneously, Bai Ziyan felt the grip around his waist loosen as the arms embracing him pulled away. Exposed to the sunlight, even that lingering trace of chill vanished completely, making it seem as though everything just then had been a hallucination.
A staff member walked up to Bai Ziyan, intending to unbuckle his harness, but nearly collapsed weakly to the ground.
Following their gaze, Bai Ziyan looked over and saw the broken safety latch and the safety belt held together by only a few remaining frayed threads.
Even Bai Ziyan suddenly broke out in a cold sweat.
Along with Duan Cang, who grabbed Bai Ziyan’s arm instinctively upon seeing the broken latch. After confirming that Bai Ziyan was safe, he wore a dark expression and demanded an explanation from the amusement park director.
Other tourists witnessing the scene didn’t dare to board the ride anymore, instead gathering around to watch the commotion. One overly familiar onlooker called out to Bai Ziyan, “Brother, you sure are lucky.”
Bai Ziyan smiled politely, though in his heart he was thinking of those icy arms that had crossed his waist.
Lucky?
He wasn’t lucky; he had simply happened to cross paths with a kind-hearted ghost.
After Duan Cang finished dealing with the park management, he walked outward with a gloomy expression. The park director bowed his head and smiled as he escorted him out, not forgetting to flatter him by saying that Bai Ziyan must be a blessed man.
Bai Ziyan was naturally a blessed man, considering the safety latch broke only right as the ride was ending.
They both knew that if the latch had broken midway, relying solely on that decades-old, weathered safety belt, it wouldn’t have protected Bai Ziyan at all.
The deduction that “Bai Ziyan is blessed” effectively soothed his lingering fright, but immediately afterward, he found himself repeatedly recalling the Mohan he had seen on the roller coaster.
How could he have seen Mohan?
Could it be that he hadn’t yet grown accustomed to Mohan’s absence and thus hallucinated, even conjuring up such an absurd scene?
How ridiculous.
Mohan claimed to love him deeply and had pestered him relentlessly; it would have been a blessing if Mohan hadn’t tried every possible means to drive Bai Ziyan away—how could he possibly hug Bai Ziyan?
This hallucination was truly a hallucination, making no sense whatsoever.
Duan Cang sneered, catching sight of Bai Ziyan’s figure in the distance. He hurried forward, and Bai Ziyan offered him a reassuring smile.
Duan Cang abruptly halted his steps.
Bai Ziyan’s safety latch had broken.
He had seen Mohan embrace Bai Ziyan.
What if Mohan hadn’t actually wanted to hug Bai Ziyan, but rather wanted to anchor Bai Ziyan firmly to the seat to prevent him from being flung out?
This hypothesis made Duan Cang’s face turn unsightly.
Because he knew this hypothesis was entirely reasonable.
Mohan was just that foolish; he would save others regardless of the consequences.
Mohan’s right arm had once been broken, and every time it rained, it would ache dully.
That arm of Mohan’s had been broken because of him.
Years ago, when he had not yet completely taken full control of the Duan family, an illegitimate child born of his damned father had actually dared to attempt competing with him and coveting things that did not belong to him. Therefore, he had contrived to make the rival addicted to gambling, leading to his abandonment by their father and a complete loss of trust from the upper management.
Driven to desperation, that illegitimate child had spent money to hire a gang of desperate thugs to ambush him.
Because of high-stress levels, Duan Cang frequently went out street racing, during which he wouldn’t bring bodyguards, leading to him being cornered right in the nick of time. Fighting many opponents alone and with the opposing side adopting a completely suicidal fighting style he quickly fell into a disadvantage.
Just as his vision began to blur, he saw Mohan.
Mohan glanced inside, bolted away at top speed, and right as Duan Cang scoffed inwardly in cold derision, he saw Mohan charge back in wielding a wooden club.
Later on, he found out that Mohan had first gone to call the police before rushing toward him.
When Mohan arrived, his own consciousness was already hazy. As the dignified young master of the Duan family, he had been beaten into an unprecedentedly wretched state, looking practically like a dying stray dog.
He didn’t know how Mohan had endured the siege of so many people, but he remembered when that desperate illegitimate child tried to smash a club down onto the back of his head, Mohan raised his arm in a hasty block and the sound of bones snapping echoed out.
Later, filled with guilt, he offered to find Mohan the best orthopedic surgeon in the world. Mohan’s slender fingertips had gently toyed with a blade of grass, and raising his head to smile at him, he comforted him by saying it didn’t matter.
Yet how could it truly not matter?
Many people knew that Mohan’s straw and bamboo weaving skills were peerless, but very few knew that Mohan was also exceptionally skilled in embroidery.
It was simply that ever since then, he rarely picked up a needle anymore.
If it was Mohan, he would indeed choose to save Bai Ziyan, even if this person was the nightmare that had plagued him for seven years.
Yet if Mohan had genuinely saved Bai Ziyan if that scene just now wasn’t a hallucination—why would Mohan have appeared there?
Could it be that Mohan truly was a dog who lowered his dignity to the dust, willing to have his soul leave his body just to follow by his side, and even willing to ensure Bai Ziyan’s safety for his sake?
As Duan Cang thought this, an even worse hypothesis surfaced in his mind, making him almost unable to resist tapping on Mohan’s contact number in his phone directory.