Chapter 54: Waiting for Half a Year, Come or Not - I Forged Them in Darkness, and They Buried Me in It

Chapter 54: Waiting for Half a Year, Come or Not In the now silent courtyard, Chen An was murmuring to himself, accompanied by the system's interjections. "Are you really going to wait?" "Yes, let's wait. I'll leave after seeing her one more time; I promised." "But your mission is over. The longer you stay in this world, the more your body will reject it, and you'll suffer greatly." "Only half a year, it's not that long." The system seemed to crash momentarily before finally responding. "She won't come back." Chen An shook his head. "It's fine." "Just wait for half a year. It doesn't matter if she returns or not." ... After returning to his solitary lifestyle, Chen An's health deteriorated rapidly. His occasional mild coughing gradually worsened and became alarmingly severe. His body grew fragile, unsuitable for any physical exertion. Aside from maintaining his hobby of carving, he abandoned all non-essential daily activities. In July of the same year, two months after Luo Congan left, Li Ye from the capital sent a letter. In it, he greeted Chen An, describing the bustling atmosphere of the capital. He sought Chen An's advice on various tax issues and firmly declared he would not abandon his initial ideas. His career in the bureaucracy was steadily advancing, yet he remained true to his original aspirations. In closing, Li Ye added that his wife had given birth to a healthy baby boy, and he hoped to visit Chen An when he had the chance. Chen An responded to Li Ye's inquiries without holding anything back and congratulated him on his son. Life thereafter resumed its mundane cycle. Chen An found nothing wrong with the simplicity. Yet, the sense of weakness and pain that plagued him upon waking each day was a constant headache. He did not visit a doctor; the rejection by this world was beyond human remedy. He often consoled himself that it was merely six months, something he could endure with grit. Oh, not quite. It was now July, and only five months remained. Although growing weaker, he managed to handle daily life without major issues. In this laid-back, near-slack mode, Chen An passed another five months. The year-end also arrived on schedule. Cheerful lanterns adorned the streets everywhere, and children in thick winter clothes dashed around, joyfully playing with friends. Standing at the courtyard entrance, Chen An found himself smiling, perhaps infected by the festive atmosphere. For once, he even set aside his daily craft. Soon, a stout figure appeared at the end of the long street. It was Lord Ma. He approached with a broad smile, like a spring breeze. Lord Ma arrived alone, carrying an exquisite wooden box. Upon seeing Chen An waiting at the door, he looked a bit surprised. "Mr. Chen, could it be that you possess some kind of immortal magic?" Chen An paused, "Why do you say that?" "Otherwise, how could you predict my visit today?" Chen An gave a peculiar look but opted for a diplomatic response. "Lord Ma, you're very clever." Lord Ma came swiftly and departed just as quickly. They exchanged a few pleasantries before he returned to the lord's manor. Chen An remained at the doorway. The sun rose and set, and when the bright moon hung high, bathing everything in its glow, Chen An finally succumbed to the cold and returned inside. He thought, perhaps something delayed her? Or maybe her master confined her, forbidding her descent from the mountain? Then, the system sighed. "Her fate is sealed. She won't come back." Chen An was silent for a moment, then dismissively waved his hand, saying with nonchalance, "I've waited half a year, what's another year?" ... Chen An never imagined that this waiting would last a full three years. Fortunately, despite his frail health, he could still manage his daily life independently. He resumed his carving, lying on a bamboo chair in the courtyard, sculpting wood in his downtime. The carvings varied—some laughed, others frowned, some expressed anger or love. Yet, all bore the likeness of a certain young girl. Sometimes Chen An couldn't help but wonder, if his system had a proficiency bar, how advanced would his carving skills be by now? The absence of an experience gauge left him somewhat regretful. He often stared absentmindedly at the doorway, pondering if he'd truly become the proverbial empty nest old man he once joked about. This monotonous life persisted into the fourth year. One morning, Chen An awoke and, as usual, intended to get up and wash. But his body betrayed him, rolling to the floor instead. As his arm hit the ground, it was scraped raw, causing stinging pain. Yet, he didn't immediately tend to the wound. Instead, he knocked on his left leg. Numb, devoid of sensation. "Ah, I almost forgot. My body has always been rejected by this world..." Chen An mumbled to himself, his tone devoid of the sorrow that might accompany losing a limb, instead breaking into laughter. He gave a thumbs-up to his system, appreciating its efforts. He knew, without the system's intervention, he would've quietly perished by now. Living three extra years cost him only a useless leg. "Do you still want to persist?" This time, Chen An did not answer. He dragged his numb leg, slowly stood up, and tried to walk outside. His movements were awkward, yet thankfully he did not fall. Under the morning sun, Chen An smiled. "You know, this is quite an interesting experience." A voice echoed in his mind again, filled with uncomprehending curiosity. "Do you not feel pain?" Chen An's lips quivered before he snapped back, teeth gritted: "I'm aware of the pain, and yet you feel the need to remind me?" The world's rejection was a constant, even in sleep; an unseen weight on his heart made it difficult to breathe. Fortunately, over these four years, his nerves toughened immeasurably, and his tolerance for pain evolved through necessity. "I can send you on your way early, free you from this needless suffering, send you to the next world." "Rest assured, it’ll be painless." Hearing this, Chen An hesitated for the first time. He limped along the wall, inching towards the side room on the left. The courtyard housed three rooms, two for living, and the remaining one Chen An had turned into a storage room. He gritted his teeth and pushed open the door. One by one, the carvings came into view. They filled every corner, some scattered on the floor, others organized on shelves. To outsiders, the room full of wooden figures might seem eerie. But not to Chen An. After all, for four years, they were his only companions. He stepped inside, beginning to tidy up. Clearing away unused items and shelves. When he finished, he brushed the dust from his clothes. Looking at the room again, it seemed mostly empty once more. All carvings were neatly arranged in one corner. It turned out the illusion of fullness was due to the now-removed clutter and shelves. Thus, Chen An decided. When the room was truly full with carvings, he would leave. (End of Chapter)