Chapter Text
“Idol Mei Lan has officially ruined his career. The twenty-six year old actor, singer, and dancer has gone globally viral for his abrupt public breakdown after fans offered their comfort for his father’s death.”
“Mei Lan? No, we don’t plan on working with him anymore. Fighting with a fan? He must have anger issues. We don't associate with violent individuals.”
“I have never seen someone fall off as fast as Idol Mei Lan. He really had it all. Supportive fans, a great career, a bright future… I can't believe it’s all gone.”
“Actor Mei Lan was reported to have…”
“The truth about the famous singer is revealed…”
“The acting industry refuses to associate themselves with Mr. Mei…”
Loud. So loud.
The room was quiet and dark. Curtains shunned any light that wanted to enter his room. Clothes and papers were scattered everywhere. The covers of the bed were wrinkled and tossed to the ground, along with bags of garbage, mainly containing fanmail or death threats… He hadn't checked. He didn't care.
Mei Lan had purchased this apartment in secret but his location had already been found by numerous “fans.” However, he decided not to move out since there wasn't a reason to. He would leave soon either way.
Click. The only sound was the occasional clicking of his mouse. On his desk were countless bottles and scraps of trash. Empty instant noodle cups were stacked to the side, an empty pizza box hanged from the wardrobe door, and wrappers were scattered all over his desk. Directly on the center of his desk was his monitor. The screen shined a fierce white glare. It was the only light in the dim apartment.
A man with very dark eyebags lazily looked up at the screen, chin resting on the surface of his desk. His black eyes reflected it, they moved left to right and right to left, long sooty eyelashes drooping over. Despite his current state, he was very handsome. His nose was slim and upturned, skin was pale and soft, and lips were plump. However, his most notable feature was none of these. The reason he had become a celebrity was because of his hair. White. A full head of white hair.
“Shit.”
He sat up and scratched the back of his head before leaning against the seat. A frown graced his features and he hugged his thighs to his chest, clothes rustling in the silence. Throughout this whole time, his gaze was glued to the monitor, never breaking contact. The rims of his eyes were a red out of irritation since the only thing he did nowadays was look at his computer.
One would wonder: What is this person looking at? What was so important that kept him staring at his computer and deprived him of his sleep? What was so important?
Mei Lan let out a sigh. “Why is the ending so stupid?”
The ending? What ending? Hey, what is this guy talking about? Isn't this Mei Lan, the actor, singer, and dancer being publicly humiliated by the whole world?!
The white haired man stared at the web novel he had just finished reading. How The Dragon Came To Be. 6,900,000 words of mediocre writing and an even terrible plot. The reviews all ranged from teenage girls gushing over the protagonist to unemployed men complaining about the lack of pornography in some chapters. Of course, there were no complaints at the end of the novel, where all of the protagonist’s days were filled with glory. It could be said that this story was the average young man’s dream. It was so boring and mediocre that Mei Lan could only stare at himself through the monitor’s reflection and contemplate why he had stayed long enough to finish the story.
With a sigh, the celebrity pushed himself off the chair. He rubbed his eyes, lazily turned off the computer, and grabbed a cap from the hanger. After covering his white locks, he grabbed the apartment keys, fidgeting with them before locking the door behind him.
The Yangtze river.
Mei Lan could hear the violent swishing of the water's currents. The fierce breaths of the wind blew off the hood of his jacket, along with the black cap that hid his hair. The smell of water filled the air, water vapor moistened his cheeks. The man stood on the railing of the bridge, looking up at the moon above. The night was so dark and the moon seemed to be a pale slit against the black sky. It was so calm yet dreadful.
Lowering his head to look at the rushing river, the man felt somewhat irritated.
Mei Lan crouched down and watched as the reflections of the stars played and danced on the water’s surface. His eyes were pitch black, dull and bored. Then, abruptly, he stood up. Without a second thought, he jumped off the railing. His last thought was:
God, thank you for making death.
SPLASH!
The icy cold waters submerged his body, taking away his breath. Mei Lan squeezed his eyes shut and waited. It felt like his body was wrapped around ice, it was so cold it burned his skin. Then, the pain numbed and Mei Lan could hear the pounding of his heart. It was struggling and he wished it would just give up. The currents were strong and were pulling his body away from the shadow’s of the bridge. The lights of the city of Chongqing seemed so distant now. It was very dark. Mei Lan was beginning to swallow water.
One minute.
It should be close.
Mei Lan waited patiently. He listened to the sway of water, the slowing of his heart, the silence of the river.
His body was numb to the cold now. Since he had stayed for too long, it was more tolerable to the chill and more relaxed. It wasn't cold at all.
Mei Lan frowned.
It wasn't cold anymore...?
Why was the water so hot? It was autumn and the temperature should be relatively low. Eventually, he got tired of waiting and swam to the surface. During this whole time, he had his eyes closed. So, when he opened them, he was very surprised to see he was in a room.
What?
Out of instinct his body coughed up water. The sudden jerking caused the man to lose balance and slip in the marble bathtub. He slammed his head against the stone, blood tinting the cherry blossom petaled waters. Eventually, he grabbed onto the edge of the bathtub and steadied himself. By this time, Mei Lan was panting heavily, legs trembling.
What the hell? Where am I?
The man stared at the blood floating in the water, the crimson liquid swirling happily and lazily. His gaze flickered to his own reflection. Mei Lan’s eyes widened. He reached and touched the back of his head, unintentionally slapping his injury. The man winced before slowly trailing his hand down his hair, gripping at the snowy locks of white. The more hair he grabbed, the widder his eyes grew. WHAT!
Mei Lan scrambled out of the bathtub, searching for the nearest mirror. A round hand mirror laid elegantly atop a table, along with a tea set. Hurriedly, he yanked the mirror and pushed it in front of his face.
A slender and extremely handsome face greeted him. Long silky hair. Mei Lan panicked. Long hair? Why was his hair so long? Is this normal in the afterlife? Did everyone grow long hair?
“Master?” A faint voice sounded behind the two large wooden doors. Mei Lan finally acknowledged their presence. His black eyes lingered on the carvings of the door. There were engravings of butterflies, flowers, and leaves. These were carefully carved and looked very expensive. “Master Lan?”
Master? Mei Lan furrowed his eyebrows and approached the two doors. Without hesitation, he abruptly opened them.
The doors swung open to reveal a young boy of about fifteen years of age. He had a sharp nose and upturned thin eyes. His black hair was also long and tied up in a bun. This stranger wore pale yellow robes. These looked very neat and tidy, the sleeves long and regal. A golden tassel hung from his waistband, along with a sheathed sword. The boy had a composed expression until he saw Mei Lan. His eyes turned wide and skin paled “Master Lan?”.
Mei Lan frowned. “Who the fuck are you calling your master?”
A deep blush awakened in the boy’s cheeks. He stiffened before staring down at the ground. He clenched the hilt of his sword, eyes clamped shut. “I… This disciple apologizes.”
Hearing the apology, Mei Lan was unfazed. Who was this person? Why carry a sword? Another burst of anger and confusion sparked in his heart and he was about to open his mouth again when—
“Shizun… your clothes…”
Mei Lan looked down at his body and discovered he was in fact bare. Immediately, the doors were slammed shut on the disciple’s face. The loud sound resounded across the entire sect, echoing off the walls and possibly shaking the mountain behind.