In Jiang Jianming’s later recollections, he started to leave that dilapidated house and began to survive in the wild area from the age of twelve.
As a disabled human child, the hardships of survival were needless to say. If targeted by new humans, he would have been completely defenseless.
He learned to smear his face with dirt like his mother, and sewed a large cloak from found rags to cover his body. He also cut thick skin from the corpses of alien creatures and sewed them into bracers to conceal his wrist bones.
In this way, he tried his best to conceal his presence, wandering like a ghost in the wild area.
Sometimes he picked up other people’s leftovers, sometimes he dug for wild vegetables and roots.
Occasionally, he would help people solve problems with his knowledge or skills. If the other person was decent enough, he could exchange it for some food, clothing, or daily necessities.
But life became increasingly difficult.
Helga’s physical condition worsened day by day, and the boundary between lucidity and illness in her mind was blurring. Jiang Jianming refused to leave his mother, and the number of times he was beaten increased.
Even under these circumstances, when the woman was lucid, she still wanted to live on.
She longed to accompany her son for a while longer, wanting to at least wait until Mingming was a bit older, until she had taught him all the knowledge she possessed.
To slow down the progression of chronic crystal disorder, Helga performed surgery on herself under the most rudimentary conditions.
She bit on a strip of cloth, used a heated knife tip to cut open her skin, picked out the crystals that had congealed in her flesh or adhered to the surface of her bones, then disinfected and sutured with needle and thread.
After each time, her face covered in physiological tears and sweat, the woman would lie on the blood-stained floor like a fish pulled out of water, usually taking a day or two to recover.
To fight against mental illness, she would loudly recite the principles of the White Dove Red Leaf Society every morning, even though this organization had expelled her many years ago.
She repeatedly reviewed the basic cultural knowledge she had completed learning in her teens, and required Jiang Jianming to test her. If she got any wrong, she would punish herself by copying it until late at night, like an elementary school student.
Both mother and child were running as hard as they could, trying to stay a little further from the scythe of death, a little further from the inevitable separation between the living and the dead.
On countless desperate cold nights, Helga held Jiang Jianming in her arms and said softly in a weak voice, “Mingming, can we hold on for a little longer?”
She said the darkest moment of the night always comes before dawn, but no matter how dark it is, there will always be a moment when it is dispelled.
Just like spring comes with warm flowers after enduring winter, as long as we persevere, life will always get better.
But fate showed no mercy.
At the end of winter and beginning of spring the following year, when the warm breeze had not yet dispelled the remnants of the severe cold, the mother’s crystal bones pierced through the child’s chest.
Jiang Jianming only let out a small “Ah.”
In the second he fell, momentum caused the emaciated young boy to roll half a turn, tumbling out of the house. A trail of fresh blood was dragged across the dirty ground.
Inside the house, Helga’s eyes were red, her withered hair disheveled. She wept and howled madly, her bare feet covered in chilblains.
Jiang Jianming lay on his back in the snow, blood gushing out from beneath him.
He suddenly realized that he could no longer remember what his mother looked like when she was healthy and beautiful.
It hurt so much.
The frenzied foreign crystal particles made his whole body hot and in excruciating pain, as if being roasted by fire. For a moment, he couldn’t tell where the wound was.
He stared blankly, seeing a tiny black bird fly across the sky.
Suddenly, he remembered an evening when the twilight was burning like fire.
That was before they came to the Z2 wild area, when the two were wandering and fleeing in the streets of the Blue Mother Star, sleeping in slums.
A grocery store owner saw how pitiful the mother and son were, and gave the mother a red blanket that couldn’t be sold.
This became their luckiest moment in these few years. Mom’s joyful face was illuminated golden by the sunset, her black hair sweeping across her eyelashes as she turned back. She pinched the edge of the red blanket, letting it dance in the wind.
Before sunset, Helga smilingly covered him with the blanket. She said it was like a flag, the red flag of the White Dove Red Leaf Society.
Jiang Jianming knew that his mother was happy when she saw kindness in the world, and it would remind her of her days as a rebel leader.
He used that red blanket for a long time afterwards.
Now…
Where did he put it?
…
“Mingming– Mingming!! Mingming!!”
When Jiang Jianming regained consciousness, Helga was holding him.
The black-haired woman was crying out heartrendingly. With her bloodied hands, she pulled out the tiny crystal spikes that had pierced into the child’s body one by one.
The crimson liquid dripped and spread in the snow.
It wouldn’t stop for a long time.
Helga tilted her head back, her neck covered in bulging veins, and let out a shrill wail, “Ah–… My child… My child!!!”
… In this era, there was no treatment for crystal particle disorder. Even if there was, it would be as good as nonexistent for the lowly people of the wild areas.
For a young and frail disabled human, being directly pierced by crystal bones had irreversible consequences.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Jiang Jianming said with a light laugh. His eyes were like freshly burnt-out ashes, without a trace of light, but still retaining some unsettled warmth.
He lay in Helga’s arms, struggling to reach out and grasp the hem of his mother’s clothes, just as he did as an infant.
The child’s fingers were covered in dirt, snow, and fresh blood. The wild wind howled like a vulture as it passed through those fingers, carrying away what little body heat remained.
“If I really got sick… then Mingming would be the same as Mom, which is also good.”
Jiang Jianming murmured softly, “So…”
“Mom can stay with Mingming, and we’ll be together forever.”
“I’m so happy.”
After saying this, he lost consciousness again and knew nothing more.
In the sixth year since coming to the Z2 wild area.
Jiang Jianming was thirteen years old when he contracted chronic crystal disorder.
No light dispelled the darkness, no spring breeze blew away the cold winter.
He didn’t wait until life got better; perhaps he hadn’t persevered long enough.
Looking back later, it was this hopeless and prolonged childhood experience that shaped Jiang Jianming’s seemingly contradictory personality for life.
On one hand, he had an extremely deep obsession with things he was determined about, even though this often came with self-destruction.
But on the other hand, his desires were extremely low. While others talked about pursuing things, he seemed to only chase, without actually seeking anything.
Subconsciously, he had already predetermined that he couldn’t obtain anything.
Good things all came much later. Hope and happiness were not absent, but a person’s life is too short – he simply didn’t have the fortune to witness them himself.
—If he didn’t think this way, how else could he endure this long winter night?
The seventh year.
Helga was near her end.
After causing her son to contract chronic crystal disorder by her own hand, the former female leader rapidly withered away, both physically and mentally.
She became gaunt, her wrinkled skin clinging to her bones, no trace of her former beauty remaining. She slept for two out of every three days, and when awake, she was mentally unstable, speaking gibberish that no one could understand.
Sometimes, the woman’s voice would become shrill, her hands grasping at the air, staring intently at the dust and cobwebs covering the eaves, with a strange light in her eyes.
With Helga in this state, the only one who could provide for the family was a 14-year-old disabled human suffering from crystal disorder. Jiang Jianming had to take care of his mother while surviving in this dog-eat-dog wild area, each day a struggle to live.
That winter, the mother and son nearly starved to death. After barely surviving in a state between human and ghost, Helga went completely insane.
“Mom, you can’t hit people,” the young boy said, restraining his mother’s flailing hands, his voice gentle. “I’ve told you many times, why do you keep forgetting?”
Helga smiled vacantly. “You… who are you…”
Jiang Jianming continued speaking to himself, “I’ve finished reading all the chips and notes you left behind this year. There are still many things I don’t understand, I might need to think about them slowly.”
“I want to pass on the knowledge before I die. But it might be difficult to find someone willing to learn. If it’s really not possible… there’s nothing I can do.”
Helga couldn’t understand the boy’s words. She leaned against a broken wooden board, her eyes wide open and vacant, the fading light flickering in her brown pupils.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, she tugged at the boy’s sleeve and lowered her voice mysteriously.
“…You… have you ever been… to the Glorious District of Yongle Garden Star City…”
“I’ll tell you a secret, our White Dove Red Leaf Society is… is right there…”
Jiang Jianming nodded seriously. “I’ve never been, but I know. My mom told me about it.”
Helga gestured with her skeletal hands. “We have… have a big flag…”
Jiang Jianming: “Mm-hmm.”
“We also have… have a… small house… hidden in an underground passage, the imperial soldiers can’t find it…”
Helga said earnestly, “Everyone inside… they’re all good people, brave people…”
“Yes, I know all of that, Mom.”
The boy wrung out a cloth and wiped his mother’s face, saying softly, “This is fine too, it’s good. Just… stay with me like this.”
The woman fell silent, her gaze distant for a few minutes, then suddenly said dreamily. “Have you seen… my son…”
“His name is, is Jiang Jianming… The meaning of this name is… he will see the dawn at the end of the long night.”
“Have you, have you seen him…”
As she spoke, the woman began to cry silently, “If you can see him, please help me… help me save him, will you…”
The boy remained silent for a long time, wiping away her tears.
“Alright, Mom.”
The eighth year.
Helga’s life was visibly coming to an end.
Like a candle burnt to its last inch, everyone knew it was about to be extinguished, just a matter of whether it would be this minute or the next.
On the brink of death, the woman’s breath came out in white puffs. These wisps of fog emerged intermittently from her bloodless thin lips, quickly fading and dissipating before Jiang Jianming’s eyes.
It was time slipping away, life fading, or perhaps something else that would never return.
… Mingming. Helga opened her lips, calling softly, Mingming, my Mingming.
Perhaps it was a final burst of clarity before death, but the patient who had been mentally ill for many years suddenly regained lucidity.
Outside the dilapidated house, the night quietly stretched to the horizon.
“Mm.”
The pale-cheeked, black-haired youth sat beside his mother, responding gently to her call, “I’m here.”
Helga’s throat made a rasping sound, which seemed to be a sob, or perhaps the sound of swallowing suffering.
She spoke with great effort, “Mingming…”
“Give Mom… the gun… please…”
In this brief moment of clarity, she had become aware of her condition.
She had struggled against fate to the very last moment, and now it was time to end it. To continue further would no longer be perseverance, but only harm to herself and others.
“Alright, wait a moment.”
Jiang Jianming stood up and quickly retrieved the handgun. He placed the cold metal object in Helga’s palm, “I’ve kept the last two bullets.”
Just enough for two chronic crystal disorder patients.
Helga’s eyes curved, smiling sadly. She beckoned to Jiang Jianming, and as the boy leaned down, she moved closer and kissed his forehead.
“Mingming, in the future, don’t…”
She choked, “Don’t casually say you’re happy…”
“Happiness, light, justice… don’t degrade these concepts, don’t degrade yourself… Mom knows living like this will be painful, will be difficult, but…”
“Someone in this world must remember what our civilization should have been like…”
Helga couldn’t continue. A flicker of confusion passed through Jiang Jianming’s eyes, but he quickly lowered his gaze and nodded, “Alright, I understand.”
In truth, the young boy didn’t fully understand, but he thought there would be plenty of time in the future to ponder this.
At this moment, he only wanted to embrace Helga, to hold that withered, cold female body. And that’s exactly what he did.
He leaned against his mother’s chest, counting her faint heartbeats. His gaze calmly watched as his mother raised the gun with a trembling arm.
Pressing it against her temple.
The boy said softly, “Mom, good night.”
As he closed his eyes, Jiang Jianming thought to himself – if only time could die before the next second arrived.
If only he could hold his mother like this forever.
If only he could return to the days of the past.
If only…
If only dawn could break at this moment.
A gunshot exploded, making his eardrums ache violently, temporarily losing his hearing.
Warm liquid splattered on the boy’s cheeks, with one drop landing just below his peacefully closed eyelashes, replacing the tears that should have fallen.
In the 48th year of the Old Imperial Calendar, Wen Helga passed away on the Blue Mother Star.
When he lost his mother, Jiang Jianming was fifteen years old.
