Chapter 39: The Rooftop Revelation

“All of it? Truly?”

Though I couldn’t fathom how Can Ye possessed such knowledge of historical truths, her unwavering gaze revealed no trace of deceit; she truly did not seem to be lying. Her earnestness was palpable; she spoke with utter conviction, affirming that everything Lan Baiyuan had recounted was unequivocally true.

A sharp intake of breath! It was, in a short span, rather difficult to accept.

‘No, no, I must step out and compose myself. My mind felt muddled, as if I had heard these things before, yet also as if they were entirely new to me. In essence, my current state was one of utter confusion, my head throbbing faintly.’

As Mu Rong Luo Ye, his gait somewhat unsteady, stumbled out of the classroom, Tang Xiao Rou instinctively moved to follow him, only for Huang Beifeng to suddenly reach out and grasp her arm.

“Trust me, he will be fine. I’ve witnessed him in this state before. His thoughts are merely disarrayed; he simply needs a moment to clear his head.”

Though a retort lingered on her tongue, the resolute conviction in Huang Beifeng’s eyes prevented Tang Xiao Rou from uttering another word. Casting a worried glance at Mu Rong Luo Ye as he departed the classroom, she watched him disappear through the doorway before reluctantly averting her gaze.

****

Approaching the sink, I turned on the faucet, allowing the cold water to splash uninhibitedly across my face. I hoped this simple act would cool me down, both physically and mentally. The sheer volume of information I’d absorbed in such a short time was proving difficult to process, and a moment of calm might help my mind settle.

Stepping away from the sink, I realized that since it was located outside the restrooms, I wouldn’t need to seek out a specific one. As long as I avoided the women’s room and simply washed my hands at the communal basin, I felt no psychological burden.

Turning to head back to the classroom, I mused that my departure must have appeared rather dispirited, my mind still reeling from the chaos.

Just as I reached the corridor’s turn, I encountered the very individual who had been the focal point of our history lesson, the one whose words had left my head aching—Lan Baiyuan.

Before I could even utter a greeting to the teacher, he spoke first.

“I noticed you during class,” he began. “The next period is self-study. If you’re curious, come with me. I apologize if this cuts into your study time.”

Observing his complete lack of professorial airs, his ability to seamlessly connect with students, it was no wonder his lessons were so effective and universally cherished by everyone.

Surprisingly, he didn’t lead me to an office or a counseling room, but rather, to the rooftop.

‘What?! Why on earth would he bring me here? Memories of past rooftop encounters instantly sent a flutter of unease through my chest. You’re not planning anything, are you?’

‘A sharp gasp! If I were a girl, perhaps. But if a grown man were to try and pin me against the wall, I’d rather leap from this very rooftop! To be a boy and be cornered by another man like that—it would be utterly humiliating!’

In reality, however, I was simply overthinking things. He was a teacher, after all; how could he casually pin one of his students against a wall? Unless, of course, he was Meng Yue.

Once we reached the rooftop, he didn’t lean against the wall of the small shelter there. Instead, he chose to rest his arms on the railing, gazing out.

“Do you know,” he began, “when I was a student, the rooftop was my favorite place to come. My greatest pleasure was leaning against this very railing.”

After uttering these words, he offered a slight, apologetic smile. “Forgive my digression. I know what you wish to ask. You still harbor doubts about everything that transpired at that particular juncture in history, don’t you?”

Concurring with his assessment, I nodded. “Indeed, it is quite incredible.”

After a brief glance in my direction, he turned back, his gaze fixed on the boundless azure sky for a prolonged moment.

“The sky then was not nearly as beautiful as this,” he murmured. “In those days, save for the pervasive darkness, not a single glimmer of light could be seen in the human world.”

“When I first heard it, I, too, was utterly incredulous. It seemed far too fantastical. It wasn’t until much later that I came to believe it—that all of it was true. This is humanity’s darkest chapter, its most abyssal era, and so, people chose to forget.”

“All I have spoken of was merely to make you aware, to let you know that such a dark period truly existed in human history. Whether you choose to believe it or not is entirely up to you.”

From beginning to end, his gaze never once strayed from the deep blue expanse, as if he sought to etch it into his memory forever. His posture seemed to convey a silent lament: that perhaps, in the future, such a pristine azure sky would no longer grace their sight.

“Time is running out,” he stated, his voice tinged with gravity. “Truly, it is.”

“What do you mean?”

His words sent a tremor of apprehension through me.

‘What could he possibly mean? ‘Time is running out’? Does this imply another cataclysmic era is looming? But surely humanity would learn its lesson, wouldn’t it? Having endured one such catastrophe, they wouldn’t willingly face another. What, then, was he truly trying to convey?’

“Too long a peace,” he began, his voice distant. “A choice to forget will, in the end, still…”

Leaving that unfinished sentence hanging in the air, he fell silent.

‘Seriously, if you’re going to speak, finish your sentences! What kind of way is that, only speaking halfway?’

However, the words that tumbled from his lips just as he turned to face me sent a fresh wave of panic through my chest. Suddenly, I found myself wishing I hadn’t asked anything at all.

“And also,” he added, a faint smile playing on his lips, “you are, in fact, quite an adorable boy, aren’t you?”