Jesse Rowan took a large gulp of beer. Oh, this matter, this little episode.
"How did you teach him a lesson? Let hear it."
"Mr. Rowan, I’ll tell you, but don’t let anyone else know, okay? If others find out about this, it’s illegal." The voice on the other end lowered. "I have a friend working as a nurse at the hospital. I had her secretly add sothing that stimulates the brain nerves to the dicine when changing Yacob Harry’s IV drip. Basically, when the drug takes effect, it’ll cause excruciating headaches—pain so intense you’ll wish you were dead."
"What do you think, Mr. Rowan? Clever, huh? This thod doesn’t leave any physical wounds or cause disability, but it inflicts unbearable suffering. It’s a very effective way to teach soone a lesson!" The voice on the other end sounded smug. "But don’t worry, Mr. Rowan, this stuff is undetectable, and the effects won’t last very long—at most a month."
"For that month, you could say it’s a fate worse than death, haha." The laughter rang out. "Guaranteed it’ll leave him with a lifelong mory!"
"Anyone who dares ss with our Mr. Rowan deserves a proper punishnt."
Jesse Rowan turned on the speakerphone, drinking his beer as the voice on the other end continued.
Above him, the night sky was still pitch black, stretching endlessly.
A vast, heavy darkness.
The air remained still, oppressive.
"Mr. Rowan, so, what do you think? Say sothing! Give so praise for my efforts—I’ve been busy all day and even took the risk of breaking the law. And you promised you’d tell the location, right? Brothers shouldn’t lie to each other; we have to be honest."
The voice kept chattering on, but Jesse Rowan’s throat was filled with the taste of beer, and he didn’t feel like responding.
His usually bright and lively eyes had lost their radiance, dull and vacant.
Just like the sky outside.
A vast, heavy darkness, deep and endless.
"Hey, Mr. Rowan, Brother Rowan, Young Mr. Rowan? Did you hang up? Hmm, no, you didn’t..."
Regardless of how the voice spoke, Jesse Rowan remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the glass skylight above.
After a long ti, when the other person couldn’t hear Jesse’s voice, they finally asked with so concern, "Brother Rowan, are you okay?"
Jesse still didn’t respond, so the person could only shrug and hang up the phone.
Was that effort wasted? They had hoped to curry favor with Jesse Rowan.
Jesse closed his eyes, swaying in his chair.
Amid the taste of beer and the gentle rocking, drowsiness slowly crept in.
Who knows how much ti had passed when the beer bottle slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a "thud." He had fallen asleep.
The rain was still falling.
The faint sound of rain could be heard here, like a lullaby, lulling one into a daze.
The rainy night was cold, spring slow to co.
In his dreams, Jesse seed to wander back to his childhood—a ti when life, for him, could hardly be called life.
He could only recall the disdainful eyes of many people and a life of desolate poverty.
The happiest monts seed to be when his mother took him out to play.
Trees, rivers, insects, birds—these were the only things his mother could show him.
But just these things were already more than enough, more than enough.
It was so very long ago, so far away... even the mories had begun to blur, with many details already forgotten.
The passage of ti was never truly serene.
The vast swimming hall was empty, save for Jesse Rowan. Gentle light fell on his face, outlining faint glimrs.
The light stretched his shadow long, weaving loneliness between light and shadow.
The cold rain had yet to cease, and all around there was only boundless silence, like an ocean, endless and imasurable.
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