Chapter 2: Written as “The Fish Rejoice”
Have you ever heard that the way men and women handle memories of past romances differs?
It’s a common saying that women overwrite their memories with each new love, while men label each romance and save them in new folders.
But hold on, if you think that’s just a cliché meant for casual conversation over drinks or at a family restaurant, you’re the ones who need to wait.
This isn’t just some trivial saying. At least for men, the idea of saving memories in folders is spot on.
“Then what’s the source? Show me the source,” you might ask.
The source is here. The source is me.
As soon as I woke up, I sensed something approaching.
It took me a moment to realize it was a person, likely because I was still groggy and my vision wasn’t quite clear. Eventually, I noticed that I couldn’t move my body freely.
As I began to panic, this person sat beside me and lifted me up.
I couldn’t even muster a surprised gasp; my mouth was too dry to make a sound.
Before I knew it, her face was close to mine, and our lips met.
As I felt the peculiar texture of her lips, something liquid was poured into my mouth.
The liquid was extremely bitter, and my natural reflex was to spit it out. But she wouldn’t allow that, pressing her lips against mine and pouring it down my throat again.
In that moment, I found myself in a bizarre situation reminiscent of a forced sales pitch, where I was both in agony and my emotions were thrown into chaos.
Is this a kiss!? Seriously!? Does that mean this is my first kiss!? No way, wait a minute! There’s no way a kiss that makes you drink something so bitter could exist! Everyone says that when lips touch, it’s a kiss! And they were definitely soft! So, does that mean artificial respiration counts as a kiss too?!
As I debated whether that was a kiss in my mind, my vision finally cleared, and I saw her staring at me, lips still parted.
Before I lost consciousness, I caught a glimpse of the White Girl.
“You were about to die,” she said, her expression unchanged.
“If I hadn’t found you, you would have died just like that.”
Her tone was devoid of emotion as she stated the harsh truth.
As I focused on her, what I sensed was the faintness of her very existence.
But that doesn’t mean she lacked presence. It’s hard to put into words, but I couldn’t feel the unique aura that humans typically possess.
Though she had a human form, the essence I sensed from her was distinctly different, a unique presence that set her apart.
“You can’t speak, can you? That’s understandable; you’ve been unconscious for a week.”
Her aura could perhaps be described as “sacred” or “divine.” This was largely due to her appearance and demeanor.
Her long, white hair shone like the finest silk, each strand glimmering, and the tips floated as if defying gravity.
Above all, the single piece of white cloth she wore exuded an almost divine aura, wrapping around her body in a way that preserved her dignity, resembling a mystical garment crafted by a master artisan.
“Uh, umm…”
I wanted to say, “Thank you for saving me,” but the words wouldn’t come out.
“It’s okay. I understand.”
Did she read my mind? She replied calmly.
“Just rest without worrying about anything else.”
With her expression unchanged, she continued speaking.
“It’s all right.”
Her words brought me comfort, and I drifted back into sleep.
This was my first encounter with the White Girl.
Her kiss had left me utterly shocked. As you all know, she had no such (ahem) intentions.
That was only natural. She was simply administering medicine to me, who had lost consciousness and couldn’t swallow on my own. The method was mouth-to-mouth, but there was nothing inappropriate about it.
However, that wasn’t the case for me. Unfortunately, I had plenty of inappropriate thoughts. After all, it was mouth-to-mouth.
Just think about it for a moment. I had been unconscious for a week. That means she had been giving me medicine through mouth-to-mouth every single time!
Wait! Does that mean my first kiss had already happened while I was unconscious? But come on, a first kiss should be something shared between two people in love, so this one doesn’t count, right? It’s wrong to have strange feelings for my benefactor. I must be the worst!
But still! Her lips felt so soft! They were incredibly plump! I’ll never forget that sensation! — As I recalled my encounter with her, my mind was filled with debates about my first kiss.
But this was truly unavoidable. After all, men are simple and foolish creatures, so I cherished the memory of her and stored it away in my mental folder.
There’s no way I could forget her.
Even after regaining consciousness for the first time, I still couldn’t move freely and had to rely on her care.
As two weeks passed, I finally regained the ability to stand and walk.
And that was when my story began to move forward once more.