Chapter 69: Meieruita’s Phantom [VIP] Part 1

Rain pattered against the glass window, “tap tap tap,” as if someone were knocking. Mei Xiu looked up and saw only the street outside, like an oil painting that hadn’t dried yet, smeared and streaked by the water, turning strange and unfamiliar.

He stood in place, like a prisoner about to be executed who was discovered to be innocent at the last moment. The heavy shackles were removed, and he was pushed from the execution ground onto the street. The wind lifted his hair, yet he still felt like he was dreaming.

Mei Xiu sadly realized that he was like a foolish dog. His master had abandoned him without a word, but when he harbored malice and plotted revenge in his mind, only to find traces of his master and discover that the master missed him, he no longer wanted revenge. He just wanted to reconcile with his master and let bygones be bygones.

He restored everything to its original state and walked to An Luo’s bedroom. The wardrobe against the wall was divided into upper and lower sections: the upper held clothes for the current season, while the lower held off-season clothes neatly folded. Mei Xiu checked them one by one. The fabrics were ordinary cotton and linen, nothing special. Nearby hung a few slightly more ornate outfits, which showed that the master rarely wore them.

Mei Xiu emerged from An Luo’s bedroom. In the living room, a little girl was reaching for the jar of almond candy on the table. Hearing the noise, she looked up at him.

Her round, puffy face like a dough bun was embedded with two big gray-green eyes, which curved as she grinned at him.

Mei Xiu halted his steps, his voice flat. “Are you sneaking up here to steal candy?”

The little girl shook her head vigorously. “I’m not stealing! An Luo left it here for me to eat!”

“Uh… but he only lets me have one piece a day… Can you not tell him I just ate two extra ones?”

Mei Xiu lowered his gaze at her for a moment without responding, then strode away.

The wooden stairs creaked as usual. As he stepped out the door and looked back at the two-story little building, emotions darkened in Mei Xiu’s eyes.

An Luo didn’t know what was wrong, but his illness came and went. Sometimes it improved, sometimes worsened, and he occasionally coughed, but it didn’t develop into anything more serious—just dizziness and general weakness.

It was like a persistent low fever that never fully went away.

“Do you feel better?”

In the quiet, spacious dining room, only An Luo and Mei Xiu sat at the long white table, occupying just one corner.

“No.” An Luo replied. He didn’t even shake his head much when speaking now, as it made him dizzy. “It’s strange. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve never felt this bad before.”

Mei Xiu looked at him and suggested, “Enduring it like this won’t help.”

An Luo cut him off before he could continue. “I’m not seeing a doctor!”

If this were modern times, he’d have gone straight to the hospital. But here, seeing a doctor meant bloodletting, fasting… and a series of measures that seemed designed to hasten death.

Better to tough it out himself!

“But what if your condition worsens?” Mei Xiu continued softly, his voice low. “Why don’t you see a doctor?”

An Luo: “…I’m not going.”

He wasn’t actually worried. If his illness lingered, he could just write a [Recovery] rune when he got home.

He hadn’t forgotten to charge his [Replenish Magic] slips over these three years. Even if it cost a lot of magic power, it wasn’t a problem.

His reserves were ample.

“Ah, so stubborn.” Mei Xiu didn’t press. He looked out the window. The rain had stopped that morning, but the weather remained overcast, with chilly early spring winds rustling through, scattering fallen leaves.

An Luo followed his gaze. “I’ve been imposing on you for a while now. Thank you for taking care of me. Since the rain has stopped, I’ll head home today.”

“Wait a bit longer.” Mei Xiu refused. “Your illness hasn’t improved, and the weather isn’t great today. At least stay two more days until the sun comes out.”

Before An Luo could respond, Mei Xiu added, “Many of your loyal readers know you’re sick here at my place. They’ve written letters blaming me. I wouldn’t dare send you out into the cold wind. If your condition worsens, your readers won’t spare me. I still have to stay here for a few years.”

An Luo: “…Uh, alright. Thanks.”

He wasn’t afraid of his condition worsening, but with Mei Xiu putting it that way, An Luo didn’t want to offend him.

Mei Xiu seemed very friendly, but he was nobility in the end. Offending him could have dire consequences.

An Luo had seen a real case: an artist once favored by the nobles got drunk and offended someone, then was immediately escorted out of Kulte City by guards. All his works were destroyed, and it was as if he had never existed.

Though he had the Authority of the Creator and theoretically shouldn’t face major issues, An Luo decided to play it safe.

Two more days it was.

Mei Xiu’s manor was so vast it felt like a maze. An Luo was ill and constantly dizzy as he walked along the crimson carpet. The corridor had row after row of doors without markers, so he occasionally took a wrong turn.

He emerged from the library and got lost in the long corridor. He recalled Mei Xiu saying the manor had servants, just hidden out of sight.

“Is anyone there?”

He called out, hoping someone would come guide him, but silence answered—only the echo of his own voice.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from around the corner ahead. An Luo thought it was one of Mei Xiu’s servants and was about to ask for directions, but the black wizard robe was too conspicuous. He looked up blankly: a pale face, gray-green eyes.

Meieruita!

How could he be here?

An Luo startled, his heart racing. He stumbled forward two steps, then remembered and stopped, tentatively calling, “Meieruita?”

His voice was sharp and low. Meieruita didn’t answer; he simply walked toward An Luo, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

An Luo called twice more, but got no response.

The wizard in black robes drew near, and An Luo instinctively backed away. He stumbled and fell onto the carpet, which was so thick it didn’t hurt.

A cool breeze approached, carrying the familiar scent of ink and ashes An Luo once knew—faintly bitter.

Meieruita knelt on one knee beside him and looked down, his pale face expressionless.

“Meieruita?”

An Luo called again.

Still no answer.

He began to suspect it was his own hallucination, since Meieruita couldn’t possibly be here.

The Meieruita before him didn’t speak, standing quietly like a statue. An Luo rubbed his eyes, but he was still there.

“Meieruita?”

This time, An Luo’s voice was much softer.

His hallucination still didn’t respond.

Tentatively, An Luo reached out to touch the hand Meieruita had resting on his knee. The sensation at his fingertips felt incredibly real—the slightly cool temperature, the broad palm, the slender fingers.

Could a hallucination be this real?

An Luo had a worst-case guess in his mind; he hoped it wasn’t his mental state failing.

But soon, he pushed the worry aside. Regardless, seeing Meieruita again was a good thing.

He extended his other hand to touch Meieruita’s face, his fingertips slowly brushing the solid pale skin. “You look a lot more mature now.”

An Luo said to the hallucinated Meieruita, “How have you been?”

The hallucinated Meieruita didn’t answer, not even moving.

An Luo gazed at his face and sighed. “Sigh, I miss you so much. I wonder where you are now.”

The gray-green eyes of the hallucinated Meieruita reflected An Luo’s figure. An Luo relaxed and smiled, leaning closer. He heard Meieruita’s breathing—long and steady.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached, like someone half-running, soles thudding heavily on the floor, not muffled even by the thick carpet.

He turned toward the sound: it was Mei Xiu.

An Luo felt Meieruita’s hand withdrawing. The kneeling Meieruita stood and walked toward the other end of the corridor. An Luo struggled to his feet and chased after. “Wait, don’t go!”

But his shoulder was gripped, halting him. In that brief moment, Meieruita’s figure had vanished around the opposite corner.

“What’s wrong?” Mei Xiu’s voice sounded near his ear. “Who were you calling?”

His emerald eyes looked over with slight concern. “There’s no one here.”

An Luo suddenly disliked him a bit. It was because of him that Meieruita left.

Though he knew it was unreasonable, his discomfort from illness made his emotions irritable. He said coldly, “It must’ve been my hallucination. A side effect of the dizziness.”

Mei Xiu keenly noticed the shift in his mood but wasn’t angry. Instead, he smiled faintly, tolerant of the patient. “My servants told me you were lost, but they didn’t dare come out to guide you.”

He led An Luo toward the bedroom. “I’ve scolded them. Next time you call, a servant will come.”

“No! No need.”

An Luo suddenly thought that if a servant had really come, Meieruita might not have appeared.

He coughed. “This is fine. If I get lost, I can find my way. Tell them not to bother.”

“Are you sure?”

Mei Xiu’s voice held a strange note, but An Luo wasn’t paying close attention and didn’t notice.

An Luo: “Yes, I’m sure.”

Mei Xiu laughed. “Alright, looks like we share a fondness for solitude.”

An Luo thought, I don’t have any fondness for solitude, but he didn’t argue.

Mei Xiu escorted him back to the bedroom and closed the door. An Luo lay on the bed. Perhaps it was psychological, but his head felt less dizzy.

The guest room bed was huge and extremely soft, sinking straight down when one lay on it. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, nor uncomfortable—just a struggle to get up each time.

Maybe this was noble extravagance. An Luo didn’t quite get it.

But sometimes, An Luo felt the bed was like a swamp or a spiderweb, trapping him like an insect in the center.

Drowsiness overtook him, and An Luo fell asleep.

When he woke from his nap, he felt much better. His head no longer spun, though his limbs were still a bit weak.

He sat up with some effort and suddenly saw Meieruita sitting at the table by the window, reading a book.