Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Tranquil Night

After脱离星世, Lolan Hill’s figure reappeared in the night sky.

High above the world, the air was clear. The white moon was clearly visible with its large ring-shaped mountains, and under the moonlight, a vast expanse of cloud sea stretched out. The clouds were layered and flowed slowly, like a true ocean.

Between the sky and the earth, there was nothing else.

An individual appeared extremely small in this boundless scenery, so small that they could not find their own existence in the moonlit cloud sea.

Lolan Hill let herself drift down from the sky like a light leaf.

The sound of the wind whispered in her ears, and the airflow brushed against her body, giving a gentle sensation, as if lying on the softest mattress in the world.

She fell from the sky into the cloud sea, a thin layer of mist settling on her skin, before emerging again and continuing her descent.

The breeze carried the mist away, bringing a refreshing coolness, while below lay a city dotted with lights.

The night scene on the ground was inverted in her view, as if she were in the sky. The lights below became increasingly bright.

The distant sound of bells came from the harbor, and the lighthouse stood quietly. On the main road, pedestrians, carriages, and vendors continued to be noisy.

Under the cover of night, Lolan Hill avoided everyone’s gaze and slowly drifted down to the quiet courtyard, returning once more.

Although it was already autumn, the grass around still echoed with the low chirping of insects. In the courtyard, the pear tree’s leaves turned yellow, falling sporadically.

Lolan Hill walked onto the lawn within the courtyard, the soil was somewhat loose, and occasionally, she caught a whiff of the fresh scent of wild grass.

Even though it had only been a short afternoon and evening, she felt as if she had experienced several years, making this small courtyard seem somewhat unfamiliar.

“I wonder how those witches spend such long lives. Do they also get tired?”

She murmured to herself as she placed her hand on the tree trunk. The bark was very rough, undulating, and covered with many peeling patches. Some wood shavings fell onto her hand.

From afar, this pear tree looked very healthy, with lush branches and leaves, but upon closer inspection, one could feel the scars and wounds on the trunk.

Perhaps this was the truth.

A gentle breeze blew, sweeping away the debris from her palm, and she returned to the house.

Hiss—

A faint flame ignited among the straw, then spread. The dry branches placed among the straw emitted wisps of smoke, filling the room with a smoky aroma.

Rattle—

With a slight sound, the dry branches were ignited by the flame, and the smoke gradually dissipated.

Lost, the warm and orange flames illuminated the young lady’s pupils.

She sat by the fireplace, her fair hands picking up several thick firewood logs and placing them inside. The damp wood emitted a faint whistle, with tiny bubbles continuously forming at the breaks of the wood, turning into wisps of white steam.

The initial few dry twigs turned into red charcoal, flickering on and off like breathing in the night wind. The edges then turned into grayish-white ‘fluff,’ and finally, they fell off into the fine grass ashes in the gentle breeze.

As she watched several large logs slowly ignite, occasionally bursting into small sparks with a crackling sound, the young lady felt her heart warm up. Life had to go on, didn’t it?

She stood up, her skirt sliding over the chair, and approached a nearby small cabinet. She squatted down, opened the cabinet door, revealing the ingredients inside: potatoes, corn, peanuts, and a large winter melon.

“Hmm.”

Looking at these short and stout fellows squatting in the corner, Lolan Hill wondered what to eat tonight. Actually, she was a bit craving some meat.

Sighing internally for not having prepared any meat, she took out two ears of corn and placed them aside, then took out three potatoes.

Glancing at the pile of raw peanuts, she did not touch them. Instead, she placed her slender hand on the winter melon, gently stroking it, then tapping it, feeling that it was still quite large.

Forget it, too big to finish.

She closed the cabinet door, picked up the potatoes, and walked to the fireplace. Using a wooden stick, she dug a small pit in the grass ashes under the firewood and placed the potatoes inside, then covered them with more grass ashes.

Then, she turned around, peeled the corn. She tore off the outer green leaves, pulled out the brown long hairs, which made her feel a bit itchy.

Finally, she left only the inner two layers of leaves. Just like the potatoes, she buried them under the burning firewood, and all she needed to do now was wait.

Warm flames constantly emerged from the fibers of the wood. At the bottom, they were colorless and transparent, then turned white, followed by light yellow, orange, and red, gradually changing until the tip of the flame was a wispy blue smoke.

The young lady sat quietly by the fireplace. The orange-yellow flames flickered slightly, coating her with a faint golden hue. Her shadow stretched long on the ground, constantly swaying. The moonlight outside brought a chill.

The young lady stared at the bright yellow flames, lost in thought. She did not specifically recall or think about anything, allowing scattered memories to rise and fall in her mind, a comfortable and reassuring feeling spreading through her heart.

It seemed like a long time ago, sitting by the fireplace back home, a faint happiness would slowly rise in her heart. Perhaps she would be holding a big flower cat in her arms, with a kettle of hot water on the fire, and a house nearby

The sounds of adults playing cards drifted in.

Thus, the young lady leaned back against the chair, watching the gradually fading firelight. Her eyes slowly closed, her body gently rising and falling as she entered a peaceful nap.

In her dream, she seemed to return to the innocent and joyful childhood, running barefoot through the mountain area, chasing dragonflies—one, two, three. She would then pick up the caught dragonflies with her fingers to observe them closely.

She lifted the flower cat high up, mimicking the actions of the Lion King.

She was afraid it might struggle and scratch herself, so she quickly put it down and took out the dragonfly she had prepared beforehand, offering it to the cat to attract it over and calm its anxious heart.

While the cat was eating, she stroked its smooth fur, constantly comforting it, then picked it up again to repeat the process.

The fire burned quietly, and before she knew it, she dreamed of many, many things.

Snap—

With a small spark bursting forth, Lolan Hill opened her eyes, feeling much clearer and more comfortable.

The firelight in front of her had already dimmed, surrounded by burnt wood. The cross-sections near the center were pitch-black carbon marks, with a few scattered flames clinging to them, seemingly ready to go out at any moment.

The young lady moved the wooden branches, gathering the burnt wood towards the center to reignite it, only then remembering the corn and potatoes she had buried earlier.

She brushed away the ashes, and one side of the potato had already carbonized, emitting a pungent burnt smell. The corn was slightly better; it wasn’t buried as close to the fire as the potatoes. Removing the damaged outer layers revealed plump kernels inside, exuding an enticing aroma.

It’s quite hot, the young lady thought.

Using two wooden sticks, she picked up the charred potato, tossing it into the air. A stream of air enveloped it, and several tiny wind blades sliced off the blackened parts, leaving half of the steaming potato to slowly fall into her hand, but protected by a thin layer of air to prevent it from being too hot.

The baked potato’s skin peeled off easily, revealing the soft and glutinous insides. However, it was still too hot to eat.

After continuously cooling it with a gentle breeze, Lolan Hill finally took a bite, the faint sweetness of starch spreading in her mouth.

After finishing a few potatoes, it was time for the corn.

Baked corn was the young lady’s favorite in her past life. Both the act of baking corn and eating it brought her joy.

The surface of the corn kernels had some charred marks, but inside they were very sweet and fragrant. The scorching grains mixed with her mouth, as if she could taste the fire itself.

Thus, on a quiet night, the silver-haired girl happily ate the corn, completely unaware that the charcoal blackened her cheeks, much like the flower cat.

Thank you, single.dog and 星之座, for your generous contributions.

(End of Chapter)