eurekapd Chapter 469 Scrap Containers
Chapter 469 Scrap Containers
Ruan Yuehua abruptly threw off the quilt, stepped barefoot onto the cold floor, and rushed towards the living room in a few quick strides.
As soon as she stepped out of the room, a gust of mountain wind howled in, scraping her bare skin like a knife.
She shivered instantly, instinctively hugging herself with her arms. Her pajamas clung to her body in the wind, outlining her slender figure.
"Hiss—" She gasped, her toes curling up on the wooden floor, goosebumps instantly rising on her calves.
The night wind, carrying a chill, lashed against the backs of her feet, making her stomp her feet a few times in frustration.
Her hair was blown all over her face, and as she haphazardly brushed it aside, she suddenly saw the shadows of the trees outside the window swaying wildly, their shadows projected onto the wall looking like menacing monsters.
She rubbed her arms and took a half step back, bumping her lower back against the dining table, making the glasses on it clink.
Then I realized I wasn't even wearing slippers, and the soles of my feet were numb with cold.
Just as she was hesitating whether to go back and put on another layer of clothing, a sudden cry of an owl came from afar, startling her so much that she rushed toward her target without a second thought.
Just as Ruan Yuehua's fingers touched the toilet doorknob, a slight noise suddenly jolted her.
The sound was extremely soft, like a deliberately suppressed gasp, mixed with the slight creaking of the bed, seeping out from the crack in Lu Yao's bedroom door.
She froze on the spot, her fingertips frozen on the metal handle, the icy touch sending a rush of cold sensation up her spine to the top of her head.
The night wind suddenly became biting, making the back of her pajamas flutter loudly.
She could hear the throbbing in her temples, louder than the howling mountain wind outside the window.
The intermittent panting sound pierced her eardrums like fine needles, causing her to unconsciously hold her breath, and even a suffocating pain rose in her chest.
The floor beneath my feet felt like ice, and a chill crept up my soles.
She unconsciously clenched the collar of her pajamas, the fabric crumpling in her palm.
The darkness in the corridor suddenly became thick and sticky, enveloping her and making her unable to move.
She only pulled her hand back as if she had been burned when she heard a clearer sound of mattress springs.
at this time.
Ruan Yuehua's throat tightened, as if a ball of burning cotton had been stuffed inside, making even swallowing difficult.
Her fingertips unconsciously gripped the collar of her pajamas, the fabric crumpling in her palms until her knuckles turned white.
Fine beads of cold sweat seeped from his forehead, and a gust of night wind blowing through the hall sent a shiver down his spine.
Countless thoughts flashed through my mind, yet they were like snowflakes, impossible to grasp.
She mechanically raised her hand to tidy her disheveled hair, only to find her fingers trembling uncontrollably.
My chest felt tight and painful, as if a piece of red-hot coal was stuck between my ribs.
My tongue licked my dry lips and tasted a hint of rust—I had somehow bitten a hole in the corner of my mouth.
A buzzing sound filled my ears, and even my own heartbeat was deafening.
Her stiff neck slowly turned, her gaze falling on her daughter Lu Yao's bedroom door, but she couldn't bring herself to take a step.
My legs felt like they were filled with lead, so heavy I couldn't lift them.
All I could do was grip the door frame tightly, letting the wood chips pierce my palms; that sharp pain was the only real sensation I felt at that moment.
Ruan Yuehua didn't know how she got back to her room.
After using the toilet, I didn't feel relieved at all; my legs felt like they were filled with lead.
My head felt like it was filled with lead.
"What should I do? What should I do? Yao Yao actually slept in the same room as that guy surnamed Li! How dare they! And in my house no less! Do they think I'm dead?" Ruan Yuehua muttered to herself.
Ruan Yuehua felt as if a piece of her chest had been ripped out, the pain forcing her to bend over, her fingers gripping the fabric of her clothes tightly.
Over the past ten years, countless memories flashed before my eyes—the warmth of Lu Yao's embrace when she first stumbled into her arms, her proud smile with a little red flower pinned to her at the elementary school graduation ceremony, her playful tongue-out when she was caught secretly applying her lipstick in junior high school... These images now felt like needles piercing my heart.
Her fingernails dug into her palms without her noticing, but she felt no pain.
There was a burning sensation stuck in my throat, I couldn't swallow it or spit it out.
The moonlight outside the window suddenly became dazzling, making her vision appear white.
"How old are you...?" She opened her mouth silently, and a hot tear fell onto the back of her hand.
Suddenly, I remembered the scene of Lu Yao having a fever as an infant, and how I stayed up all night pacing back and forth holding the baby.
The little one was so soft and dependent on her back then, but now...
Ruan Yuehua suddenly covered her mouth, choking back a sob, her shoulders trembling like leaves in the wind.
Those years stolen by time have now turned into sharp fragments, piercing my heart again and again.
. . . . . .
at the same time.
at the foot of the mountain.
A dilapidated two-story prefabricated house.
This prefabricated house, made from a discarded shipping container, stands askew at the foot of the mountain, its metal exterior riddled with holes from years of wear and tear.
The reddish-brown rust, like festering sores, spread from the seams all the way to the twisted and deformed door frame.
The sea breeze, carrying salt grains, washes over the iron sheet year after year, etching layers of wave marks on it.
One corner of the prefabricated house was deeply sunken into the mud, looking like a lame animal.
Rusty rivets would occasionally break off, making a teeth-grinding "crunch" sound in the night.
The seams of the sheet metal were haphazardly taped together with blackened waterproof tape, which was now being torn up by the mountain wind, slapping against the wall like the pulse of a dying person.
The glass of the only window was cracked into a spider web pattern and hastily patched together in a "米" (rice) shape with yellow tape.
Through the crack, you can see the light bulb flickering inside, casting a person's shadow on the moldy wall panel.
Whenever the mountain wind hits the walls, the whole house trembles, and the corrugated iron roof rattles as if it's about to fall apart.
Pushing open the creaking iron door on the second floor of the prefabricated house, the scene before you and its rusted exterior create a magical contrast—
The entire space was bathed in the blue light of more than a dozen curved screens, like stepping into the set of a science fiction movie.
The wall of light formed by the monitors constantly refreshed the dense stream of code, reflecting a cold, mechanical luster onto the inner walls of the metal-framed container.
Six top-of-the-line PCs stood in a row in the corner, their water-cooling systems emitting a faint blue glow, and liquid metal gurgling through transparent pipes.
Data cables hanging from the ceiling intertwined like vines, connecting to the buzzing server matrix in the corner.
The air was filled with the mixed smell of ozone and silicone, and occasionally there were crackling sounds of electronic components overloading.
There were two other people in the room.
To be precise, it was two men.
One of them was the man in the baseball cap who helped Ruan Yuehua change her tire at night.
There was another one who was thin, wore gold-rimmed glasses and a plaid shirt, and looked more like a scholar.