Chapter 1640: Goodnight, Baosheng

The orange candle flame flickered.

"Baosheng, don't be afraid..."

"Sir will find a way to save you."

Chen Ling said softly.

In the warm halo, the black on Chen Ling’s opera robe gradually spread, and his temperament became visibly deep and mysterious. An indescribable power spread in the air...

Just then, a weak palm gently grabbed the hem of the pitch-black Nuo Opera robe.

"Sir..."

"Let me go."

Hearing this whisper, which was as weak as a mosquito, Chen Ling froze in place.

Under the dim light, Kong Baosheng raised his head slightly. Blood-stained bandages were wrapped around his eyes, making it impossible to see his expression clearly... but Chen Ling could feel that he was begging.

"...What did you say?"

"I don't want to continue like this... sir..."

"Baosheng, I will cure your illness. Give me some more time, and all those pains will leave you, and you won't have to endure the torment anymore." Chen Ling said solemnly.

"...No." Kong Baosheng shook his head gently. "Sir, you don't understand..."

"What don't I understand??"

"In this era, living... is the greatest torment."

Kong Baosheng lowered his arm powerlessly and looked at the ceiling hollowly. His voice was extremely hoarse.

"Even if I recover my health, the situation of others will not change. The plague and famine are always there. Even if I can guarantee that I won't be infected with any virus in the future, even if I can have enough food and clothing... so what?"

"Every time I walk out the door, I still see people fighting for food, and I still hear their painful groans. I have no way to be high and mighty, and no way to turn a blind eye..."

"Sir, in this era, no one will calm down to listen to a play anymore."

"The Jinghong Building..."

"Will never have a day full of guests again."

"For me... this kind of life is the greatest torment."

Kong Baosheng’s voice echoed weakly in the room. This was the first time since their reunion that Chen Ling had seen sorrow and pain on his face... His sorrow and pain were not for himself, but for this era.

Kong Baosheng had been in the Jinghong Building since he was born. After his grandmother died, he regarded the Jinghong Building as something he would devote his whole life to doing well. But in this era, the Jinghong Building would never welcome guests who truly understood it, and this theater could not even continue to exist.

For him, watching the Jinghong Building head toward destruction was something more unacceptable than death.

Today, when Chen Ling and Li Qingshan performed "Wangchun Terrace," Kong Baosheng had already heard the chaotic sounds nearby. His tears were not only shed out of gratitude to Chen Ling and Li Qingshan, but also out of despair and sorrow...

At that moment, he realized that

The spring he had been chasing would never return.

"Baosheng..." Chen Ling opened his mouth, wanting to say something more.

"I know you're very powerful, Sir. If you wanted to, you could definitely keep me alive..." Kong Baosheng smiled weakly.

"But Sir, really... there's no need."

"I..."

"Miss my grandmother."

At that moment, Chen Ling’s heart felt as if it had been pricked by a needle; an indescribable pain surged within him.

He gently closed his eyes, as if he dared not look at Kong Baosheng any longer. A pair of cinnabar-like earrings swayed slightly with his rapid breathing, and his heart was undergoing an unprecedented struggle.

At this moment, what he faced was not an invincible enemy, nor a desperate predicament...

It was letting go.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he took a trembling, deep breath...

"...I understand."

Chen Ling opened his eyes, those moist, ruby-like orbs looking gently at Kong Baosheng on the sickbed. "Baosheng... let me send you off."

The corners of Kong Baosheng’s pale mouth finally lifted slightly, as if he were very happy with Chen Ling’s choice:

"Thank you, Sir."

Chen Ling’s hand trembled slightly as he reached out, resting it gently on Kong Baosheng’s forehead, as if tenderly stroking a junior. The warmth from his palm spread over the bloodstains on Kong Baosheng, as if spring had already arrived.

Kong Baosheng spoke softly once more:

"Sir, I’m going to take my leave now..."

"I know that with your ability, Sir, you will definitely be able to make it to the end of this era... but sometimes, the further one goes, the more painful it becomes..."

"Please, Sir, take good care of yourself."

Chen Ling couldn't help but close his eyes again, steadying his emotions. His voice remained calm and gentle: "Mm, I will."

Beneath Chen Ling’s palm,

a smile appeared on the corners of Kong Baosheng’s mouth.

"Goodnight, Sir."

"Goodnight... Baosheng."

Chen Ling’s palm gave a slight tremor.

At the same time, a flicker of thought was transmitted into Mr. Han’s mind...

As Chen Ling’s hand trembled and moved away, Kong Baosheng on the sickbed no longer had any breath.

Yet, there was no trace of the agony of illness on his face; instead, it was filled with a happy smile, as if leaving on this complete and beautiful day had drawn the perfect conclusion to his life.

A tear rolled down from the corner of Chen Ling’s eye; he could no longer suppress it. He sat alone by the bed, looking at the boy he had killed with his own hands, his fingernails digging deep into his palms until drops of scarlet blood bloomed on the floor...

At this moment, in his field of vision, an illusory soul drifted out from Kong Baosheng’s corpse, slowly rising toward the void above.

Chen Ling did not hesitate and opened the red paper umbrella. Because Chen Ling had killed Kong Baosheng himself, his soul offered almost no resistance as it was drawn into the umbrella.

"Baosheng..."

"This era owes you too much."

"After I restart the world, perhaps we will have a chance to meet again..."

Chen Ling murmured softly, as if speaking to Kong Baosheng, and also as if comforting himself. As he closed the red paper umbrella, a cold wind swept through the room, and the orange kerosene lamp burning nearby instantly flickered out.

Chen Ling, draped in his red-bottomed, black-patterned theatrical robe, slowly stood up from the chair and pushed the door open to leave.

Boom—

The thunder outside the building continued incessantly.

Li Qingshan, sitting alone at the entrance, seemed to sense something and turned his head to look... A flash of astonishment appeared in his eyes.

The flickering lightning cast the actor’s shadow long and thin. Chen Ling walked slowly through the empty front hall and finally arrived beside Li Qingshan...

In front of the Jinghong Building,

the two actors remained silent.

"Brother Chen, Baosheng, he..."

"He’s gone." Chen Ling paused for a moment. "I sent him off myself."

Although Li Qingshan had vaguely guessed it, a deep sorrow still flashed across his face. He remained silent for a long time before speaking:

"It’s better that he left without pain... In this era, living is also a form of suffering."

Chen Ling did not respond.

He slowly looked up at the sky... The wind and rain of the Cangyun Domain did not pause for even a second because of Kong Baosheng’s death; instead, they became even more fierce and violent!

……

……

Tomorrow is the book signing for the sixth volume of "I Am Not the Actor God" in Chongqing, so I’ll be taking a day off~ Looking forward to meeting everyone!

It was my fault for writing such a sad chapter today; please don't "stab" me when we meet, I beg you.