"Who...am I?"
Boom—
Pale lightning flashed through the ink-like clouds.
Rain poured down, a divine storm drenching the muddy ground. In the rippling puddles, a crimson figure was fragmented.
It was a young man clad in a red theatre gown. He stumbled through the mud as if drunk, his wide sleeves fluttering in the strong wind. The mud on his theatre gown was washed away by the rain, and that blood-like crimson was shocking in the dark night.
"Stop arguing...stop arguing!"
"All of you, shut up!"
"I'm about to remember...about to...remember..."
"I have a name...a name of my own!"
The young man's wet black hair hung over his eyebrows, and his unfocused eyes were full of confusion. He moved forward with difficulty, clutching his head with both hands, as if struggling to recall something.
His angry roar echoed on the deserted street, but it didn't travel far before being swallowed by the endless rain.
Plop—
In the dim light, he tripped over a protruding stone and fell heavily to the ground!
A trickle of scarlet blood rolled from the young man's forehead. He lay blankly on the ground, then suddenly seemed to remember something, and a faint light appeared in his cloudy eyes.
"Chen Ling..."
A name suddenly flashed through his mind.
The moment he uttered these two words, a fragment of memory drifted out from the endless murmurs that were almost tearing his head apart, merging with this weak body.
"What is this...transmigration?"
Chen Ling frowned, constantly processing the memories of this body. His brain ached as if it were being torn apart.
His name was Chen Ling, 28 years old, an intern director at a Theatre in the capital. After a performance at the Theatre that day, he was alone on stage, designing and arranging the actors' movements. Then a violent earthquake struck. He only felt a pain in his head and completely lost consciousness.
Thinking about it now, he most likely was killed by a falling spotlight...
And at this moment, Chen Ling was also gradually processing the memories of this body. To his surprise, the Original Host of this body was also named Chen Ling, but their fundamental understanding of the world was completely different. The fragmented memories clashed, and Chen Ling felt his mind was about to explode.
He kept taking deep breaths, struggling to get up from the ground. His theatre gown was black in some spots and red in others, looking utterly disheveled.
For some reason, his body felt incredibly heavy, like the exhaustion of being completely drained after staying up four or five days straight to write a script...
"Let's go home first..."
His weary body and fragmented thoughts made it almost impossible for him to think, so he could only rely on the body's instinct to walk towards "home."
Although he didn't know how he got here, the Original Host's memory contained this place. He would take this road every day after taking care of his younger brother at the clinic. From here to home, it was usually only a two or three-minute walk.
But for him at this moment, this journey was unprecedentedly long.
The rain, with its biting cold, flowed over Chen Ling's body. He shivered uncontrollably, enduring the cold and fatigue as he walked in the rain for ten minutes before finally arriving at the familiar front door from his memories.
Chen Ling fumbled in his pocket for a while, realizing he had no key on him.
So, he skillfully retrieved a spare key from the bottom of the newspaper box next to the door and opened the door.
Creak—
Warm light spilled from inside the house, illuminating a corner of the dark, rainy night and Chen Ling's pale face.
The moment he saw this light, Chen Ling's taut nerves naturally relaxed. The cold and fatigue on his body seemed to be somewhat dispelled by this single lamp.
He stepped into the house, only to see two figures sitting on either side of the dining table, their eyes red, as if they had just cried.
Hearing the door open, the two paused, then simultaneously turned their heads.
"Dad...Mom...I'm home."
Chen Ling, with a heavy head, subconsciously prepared to change his shoes at the door, only to realize he had been barefoot from the start. His soles and between his toes were almost completely filled with mud, already leaving two large black footprints on the floor.
The two figures sitting at the dining table, seeing the red-clad Chen Ling push open the door, their pupils contracted violently!
"You...you..."
The man's Adam's apple bobbed. He opened his mouth wide, looking as if he had seen a ghost.
"Mom...is there any water at home? I'm so thirsty." After returning home, Chen Ling's spirit completely relaxed, and his consciousness was on the verge of fainting. He muttered to himself as he stumbled into the kitchen, picked up the water dispenser bottle, and began to drink greedily.
Gulp, gulp, gulp...
In the kitchen, the red-clad figure drank water ravenously, like a beast.
Water trickled from the corners of his mouth, dripping onto the floor, forming puddles that reflected the two terrified, pale faces in the living room.
"A Ling...?" The woman forced herself to gather courage, trembling as she spoke, "How...how did you come back?"
Chen Ling, holding the water bottle, drank frantically, completely oblivious to the woman's words. Then, as if he felt drinking like this was too slow, he directly shoved the fist-thick opening of the water bottle into his mouth and bit it apart!
The synthetic plastic was chewed vigorously, and surging water poured into his mouth, utterly refreshing!
"I walked back."
A voice came from behind Chen Ling.
Yes...behind.
At this moment, Chen Ling was still immersed in drinking water, but his voice clearly reached the ears of the two people.
It was as if another red-clad Chen Ling stood in the invisible void behind him, spreading his hands and answering as if it were the most natural thing.
"The rain was a bit heavy, and I think I got lost."
"I think I fell a few times on the way, and my shoes are gone too..."
"Mom, I got the floor dirty. If you're not in a hurry, just wait for me to clean it up tomorrow...I'm too sleepy now."
Looking at this chilling scene before them, the man and woman in the living room felt a chill down their necks. The flame of the kerosene lamp in the glass holder flickered continuously, as if an invisible hand was playfully toying with the wick.
Their faces were ashen, but they stood rigidly in place, not daring to move.
Finally, the water bottle was emptied.
Chen Ling wiped his mouth as he put the water bottle down, then turned around, leaving black footprints with every step across the floor, stumbling towards his bedroom...
"Dad, Mom...you two should go to bed early too. Good night."
He mumbled something indistinctly, then closed the door behind him, followed by the dull thud of a heavy object falling onto the bed.
The living room fell into dead silence.
After an unknown amount of time, the two figures, like statues, stiffly turned their heads...and looked at each other.
The flickering wick stabilized, and the eerie kerosene lamp barely illuminated the dim living room. They sat trembling in their chairs, their faces utterly devoid of color.
"He...came back," the man said hoarsely. "How is this possible...?"
"If he really is A Ling..."
"Then who...did we kill last night?"