Both villagers and students suffered heavy losses; the fields and roads were dotted with numerous new graves. For a week, the village was filled with funeral ceremonies.
Many students and villagers, like A-Lai, were still missing. Their funerals were held on a rainy, gloomy day. A-Lai's tombstone was blank, as if his friends still hoped he would suddenly show up, smiling and saying he had just been hiding. The surviving students placed a big bouquet of wild chrysanthemums on the grave, with a single red rose among them. Maybe the person who gave the rose was colorblind, as colorblindness was common these days, and no one said anything about it.
he principal stood silently among the crowd, feeling unusually alone. He thought of A-Lai, who never missed a class and was occasionally late. A-Lai loved literature and stories from beyond the village; his eyes always sparkled in class, and he would beg the principal for more stories after lessons. The principal even imagined A-Lai's future as a language teacher or as someone who would venture beyond the village for a broader future.
Dan, whose face was still bandaged, crouched by the tombstone, studying the red rose carefully. Then he looked around at the girl at the grave, noticing the sadness in her youthful face and beautiful eyes. He seemed to discover some great secret,"Oh, oh, Principal, I understand now!" But as he turned, he saw a group of people in protective suits had taken the principal away.
The principal seemed to recognize them; before leaving, he grabbed a teacher's hand and said,"If the children return to the school and want to continue classes, find a way to keep the school running, even if only one child remains."
In the centre of TV news today, a black-clad female reporter, expressionless, reported the news:
"This is a Federal Neuraline news report. The recent fire at the school was caused by improper handling of a bonfire, resulting in 9 deaths and dozens of injuries. The injured have been sent to the hospital, and their conditions are stable. Many brave villagers emerged during the incident, fighting the fire and rescuing the injured. Next, we will continue reporting on several villagers we deeply respect.
The school principal bears significant responsibility for the mismanagement and has been taken away by the police for investigation. Additionally, some villagers claimed to have seen giant alien creatures; however, it was confirmed that these were inflatable props used in the bonfire event…"
Her report was set against the backdrop of villagers' numb and dazed expressions.
In the shadows of the distant woods, a black sedan, uncommon in this remote area, quietly parked. Inside, two people conversed:
"I've had enough of this drunken nonsense."
"Sir, wasn't it you who instructed them to say this?"
"Oh, are you bored? Your task now is to make Dr. James hurry up and give us answers!"
-----------------
Ye Tong and A-Lai stood at the edge of the sinkhole, the air thick with the smell of burnt earth. Smoke occasionally escaped from the ground, igniting blue flames that shot over ten feet into the air. A bird, caught off guard, was instantly turned into a charred lump. The edge of the sinkhole was surrounded by tall stone walls, like a giant trap, leaving anyone who tried to escape facing a vast, dark void.
Ye Tong's gaze was cold and sharp, his silhouette under the moonlight looking especially stern. He dashed forward, each step whispering in the wind, his wide sleeves trailing behind him like wings. Opposite him stood A-Lai, his face pale, still feeling the effects of some drug. He took a deep breath, his body still weak, but his eyes showed unwavering determination.
"You can't escape, A-Lai," Ye Tong's voice came coldly, laced with unmistakable provocation. His hands were already gripping two sharp daggers, their blades concealed under his sleeves, poised to strike.
A-Lai slowly stood up, his hands pressed together in an ancient combat stance. Suddenly, the air around him seemed to stir, a powerful current erupted from within him, whipping up a storm that scattered the dust throughout the sinkhole. Just then, from behind him, a familiar voice rang out:"A-Lai, catch the spear! I've fixed it!" Elderly Gongsun shouted, and a long spear, imbued with a familiar aura, planted itself at his feet.
Without looking back, A-Lai kept his eyes fixed on Ye Tong, maintaining his combat stance.
On the edges of the sinkhole stood two groups of people. One side was led by Elderly Gongsun and the monks of Moon Lake, while the other was commanded by Lord Gong, a burly man covered in tattoos, and a skinny man with a hooked nose. Both groups stood still, knowing this was the fate of the young warrior and Ye Tong to decide.
Ye Tong sneered, his figure transforming into a shadow as he lunged at A-Lai. His daggers flashed coldly, aiming straight for A-Lai's heart. A-Lai sidestepped, using his spear to draw an arc that forced Ye Tong to change his attack. Though A-Lai's movements were slow, they were filled with power.
The battle quickly became intense. Ye Tong's attacks were like a storm, his dagger flashing so fast it was almost impossible to follow. A-Lai responded with graceful moves, each one precisely blocking Ye Tong's attacks. The sound of clashing metal rang out continuously; in just moments, their weapons clashed dozens of times, with sparks flying.
Suddenly, Ye Tong let out a cold grunt, raising one dagger high before swinging it down with great force, the blade cutting through the air with fierce pressure. A-Lai felt immense power bearing down on him, and he summoned all his strength to create a protective aura. The shockwaves from their clash caused the stone walls of the sinkhole to crumble, debris flying everywhere, creating an apocalyptic scene.
At that moment, Ye Tong spun around and kicked towards A-Lai's abdomen. A-Lai blocked with his spear, but the impact still unbalanced him, forcing him to stagger back. He dug his heels into the ground to steady himself.
"It's not over yet," Ye Tong said coldly, slowly advancing towards A-Lai. Each of his steps was filled with an oppressive force, as if the ground trembled beneath his feet.
A-Lai raised his spear towards the sky, the sharp spearhead, fixed by Elderly Gongsun, gleamed coldly, reflecting his pale face but unwavering eyes. He took a deep breath, suddenly holding the spear with one hand, and spun like a whirlwind, launching an attack that was both offensive and defensive.
Ye Tong deftly used his agility, moving up and down like a leaf dancing in the wind.
Soon, the two stood ten steps apart, Ye Tong staring at A-Lai, his icy demeanor now tinged with a hint of surprise. He realized that the young man before him was not as simple as he had imagined. The energy within A-Lai began to surge, the aura around him growing stronger, as if preparing for an ultimate showdown.
This battle was destined to end in anything but peace. In this dark sinkhole, the two young men intertwined by fate were poised to face a final, life-or-death confrontation.