The stove in the room was boiling water.
A man walked in from outside and took out an oiled paper package from his bosom. He opened it to reveal freshly steamed red sugar cakes, hot and fragrant, filling the whole room with their sweet scent. He took one, wrapped the bottom in the oiled paper, and handed it to the child: “Dongdong, your favorite red sugar cake.”
Men Dong looked at the red sugar cake in his hand.
This was something he loved to eat, though it seemed he hadn’t had it in a long time.
“Why aren’t you eating?” the woman working beside him smiled at him. “Eat it while it’s hot, it won’t taste as good when it’s cold.”
Men Dong then once again indulged in this gentle care. He took a big bite, and his expression changed immediately.
Contrary to the cake’s sweet and soft appearance, it felt like eating a lump of mud and sand, reeking of earth, with coarse little stones and shriveled dry grass mixed in. It was barely swallowable.
He spat out the contents of his mouth with a pfft.
The woman was startled and hurried over to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” She reached out to touch Men Dong’s forehead. As she got closer, an unbearable earthy smell wafted from her sleeves.
Men Dong couldn’t help but shrink back. He accidentally bumped into something beside him. Looking down, he saw a cloth tiger, with a few whiskers pulled off, lying next to his hand.
“Do you want this?” Seeing this, the woman stuffed the cloth tiger into his arms. “Take it and play with it.”
Men Dong stared intently at the cloth tiger.
This tiger was beautifully made, likely sewn stitch by stitch by a skillful woman. Its eyes were two round black buttons, its whiskers made of white fishing line, and it had a fluffy, soft, and warm tail. It was exquisitely crafted. But for some reason, another cloth tiger came to his mind, one that was crookedly sewn, looking like a ferocious beast, with oddly shaped eyes and a stiff tail like a wooden stick.
When did he ever have such an ugly tiger?
Who gave him that ugly tiger?
In his memory, a young and impatient voice seemed to echo in his ears: “Crying, crying, you only know how to cry. Here, take this. Don’t cry anymore, got it?!”
He had taken it with a sniffle, and seeing how ugly the tiger was, he cried even harder.
“Shut up! How dare you cry? I, Gu Baiying, stayed up all night just to make this thing for you, you ungrateful little brat,” the boy had warned, lacking confidence.
Gu Baiying… who was that?
A face seemed to appear before his eyes, handsome and slightly impatient. He muttered, “Seventh Uncle…”
“What?” The woman didn’t hear what he was saying and asked with a smile.
Men Dong looked down at the doll in his hand.
He did have a beautiful cloth tiger like this, one that his mother had sewn by hand, stitch by stitch. He loved it dearly and even hugged it while sleeping. But on that night, the fire spread and engulfed the whole house, consuming everything, including that cloth tiger.
Later, after many twists and turns, he was taken away and then rescued by someone. He went to Gufeng Mountain and slept with the boy who had saved him. He no longer had his parents, nor the cloth tiger, and often woke up from nightmares, crying incessantly at night.
That young Seventh Uncle had sat up from the couch, looking at him crying in the dark, and asked irritably, “Kid, what will it take for you to sleep well?”
With tears in his eyes, he timidly spoke, “Uncle, I-I want a cloth tiger, with a tail, and black eyes.”
The boy threw off the covers and left.
Gu Baiying disappeared for several days. When Men Dong saw his young uncle again, he was holding a cloth tiger, which he shoved into Men Dong’s hands. “Take it.”
Men Dong had never seen such an ugly tiger.
It was so ugly that if you didn’t know it was a tiger, no one could tell what it was. It was crookedly sewn, with eyes made of high-quality black gold stone, which were square and glowed in the dark. Placed by the pillow, waking up at night, one might think it was a monster coming to claim their life.
Men Dong cried even harder, “Why is it so ugly…”
“Still complaining it’s ugly?” the boy snapped. “I made it myself!”
He hugged the cloth tiger, and for the first time in this unfamiliar sect, he cried loudly and freely, feeling a strange sense of peace.
The exquisite cloth tiger in his hand seemed a bit cold.
Those hazy images finally brought back all his memories, like waking from a strange dream. Men Dong looked around and was surprised to notice that the sweet, warm smell in the air had somehow turned into a rancid, damp stench, like rotting water plants piled together. He looked again at the woman and the man beside him; their familiar faces had blurred.
This was not his home. His home had disappeared many years ago in that fire. His parents and the cloth tiger could not be here.
A strong fear gripped him. Men Dong pushed the woman in front of him away, jumped off the bed, and ran toward the door, shouting, “Help—”
That seemingly sturdy wooden door felt like an illusion as he plunged right through it. Outside was a cold, pitch-black passageway, with torches on the walls casting faint shadows on the ground. The cold wind cut his face like knives, cruelly driving away the warmth, waking him fully from the dream.
This was… the passageway in Wufan City.
Yes, they were in the altar of Wufan City, being chased by the sand tide. Gu Baiying and Yang Zanxing were blocked by the falling beams, while he followed Meng Ying and the others up the stairs. Then… he turned around and found himself chopping wood in the mountains with his deceased parents.
Men Dong quickly turned back to look. The wooden door had vanished, replaced by passageways on both sides, with no warm room in sight.
“An illusion?” he realized suddenly.
But what about Meng Ying? Where were Meng Ying and the others? As Men Dong lifted his foot to move, he tripped over something, almost falling. Looking down, he saw a leg sticking out from the darkness, blocking his way.
It was so dark that he hadn’t noticed it until now. He was startled and, following the leg, saw that someone’s upper body was lying in the secret chamber, with both legs sprawled across the path. It was Tian Fangfang.
“Senior Brother Tian!” Discovering a companion here made Men Dong extremely excited. He ran to Tian Fangfang’s side, finding him completely motionless, and his heart sank, thinking he might be dead. But upon closer inspection, he saw Tian Fangfang’s chest rising and falling; he was still breathing and likely alive.
This place was strange. Since he had fallen into an illusion, Tian Fangfang had probably succumbed to it too. Men Dong shook Tian Fangfang and shouted in his ear, ” Senior Brother Tian!”