Death Progress Bar Chapter 121

Chapter 121

Notice Temporarily unedited, read at your own risk
By the time Shi Jin finally returned to school, the second class in the afternoon was about to begin. He called Liu Yong, asking him to help him fetch his textbook, and headed directly to the classroom with the takeout box and Lian Jun’s present.
The school bell rang just as he entered the classroom. He quickened his pace and walked to sit down next to Luo Donghao, taking the textbook Liu Yong handed him. After the teacher started the lecture, he took out Lian Jun’s gift from his pocket and quietly opened it under the desk—he was in a hurry to come back and hadn’t had time to see what it was.
The lid came off, revealing a black and gold fountain pen.
He was a little surprised; he didn’t expect that Lian Jun’s gift would be a pen. He took it out of the box to take a closer look. Soon, at the top of the pen cap, he noticed a small, golden engraved word: ‘Jun’ [君, jūn].
This guy…
He couldn’t help but smile. He touched the engraved character, then took the cap off. Seeing the pen had ink, he opened his notebook and wrote the word, Jun.
A faint scent of the ink spread in the air, much like the scent that sometimes lingered in Lian Jun’s study.
His smile deepened as he immediately understood Lian Jun’s intention in giving him the pen—even in class, he would always hold “Jun” and feel the presence of “Jun.”
What a cunning man.
Luo Donghao suddenly nudged him with his elbow.
Snapping back to his senses, he looked at Luo Donghao questioningly.
His friend silently gestured towards the teacher on the dais, then pointed at his mouth, implying that Shi Jin’s smile just now was too foolish.
Shi Jin hurriedly got his expression under control, shooting a glance at the teacher currently writing on the blackboard. With a small cough, he put the pen back in the box and began to pay attention to the lecture.
After the afternoon classes ended, Shi Jin called Liu Yong and Luo Donghao, took the takeout box to the cafeteria, and asked to borrow the microwave oven. After heating the food, Shi Jin shared it with them.
“Damn, I’m so envious of you. Your boyfriend is really doting,” Liu Yong sighed as he ate.
Shi Jin beamed with pleasure at his remark and replied with no sense of shame, “Yes, he is! He’s so sweet.”
Liu Yong choked on the rice and decided to let the topic drop. Ignoring Shi Jin, the boyfriend-obsessed idiot, he said, “The end-of-term physical fitness test is about to start, but the weather forecast says it’s going to snow. What about the long-distance run? Will they make us run in the snow? Our school doesn’t have an indoor track.”
This was indeed a big problem.
Shi Jin took out the phone and checked the weather forecast for the next few days. “It will probably be postponed,” he said. “I doubt the school will make us take the fitness test in the snow.”
“I hope so.” Luo Donghao cast a worried glance at the gloomy sky outside.
Death Progress Bar is translated by Betwixted Translations. Read on the original translator’s site to get the fastest updates!
Proving the cadets’ forebodings justified, it began snowing heavily and soon, a thick white layer covered the ground. The school had to change the exam schedule and swap the dates of the fitness test and written exams, hoping that the weather would clear up by the time they were over.
This change, however, meant that the cadets suddenly had much less time to review. Not surprisingly, complaints and wails of misery soon filled the school.
After Shi Jin saw the school notice, in order not to fail, he immediately turned on the hell review mode. He dragged Liu Yong and Luo Donghao to the library every day to do exam prep review courses. During weekends, he would make video calls to the two so they could review together what they’d learned.
With Shi Jin’s example, Liu Yong and Luo Donghao also unconsciously felt anxious to study and buried themselves in books, reviewing late into the night.
Amidst studying and exams, time flew by. Snow fell and stopped, fell and stopped; at long last, when the written exams ended, the clouds dispersed and the sun came out.
Liu Yong was so moved that he was about to cry. Hugging the ugly snowman in front of the dormitory building’s entrance, he wailed, “Devil! Shi Jin, you’re a devil! I’ll never review for the exams with you again! Where did you get those review materials? They were so many and so hard, it was hell!”
Shi Jin, who was back to his normal self since the exams were over, coughed in embarrassment and pulled him off the snowman. “My tutor compiled them based on our textbooks. He said that as long as we remember those key points, we can pass no matter what… Yes, yes, I’m a devil, it’s all my fault. Anyway, the exams are finished, we don’t need to review anymore.”
Liu Yong wasn’t really upset, he was just venting his joy that the exams were over. Hearing Shi Jin’s answer, he stopped acting silly and said, “You actually have a tutor in college… Dude, you’d better not let your roommates know or soon the whole school will hear about it.”
Shi Jin nodded, feeling a headache. He could tell that his roommates weren’t actually malicious, but the subtle, awkward feeling of not being able to get along and his private life being snooped on was really uncomfortable.
It would be great if he could change roommates, but it wouldn’t be possible until the third year…
“The fitness test is split over two days. Our class’s long-distance run is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. I hope it won’t start snowing again,” Luo Donghao said, still a little worried about the weather, then turned to look at Shi Jin. “Anyway, what are you doing during the winter break? How about we go have some fun together?”
At the words, Liu Yong reached out and grabbed Shi Jin by the collar, saying mock-threateningly, “You’d better not tell us you can’t because you have to accompany your boyfriend. There should be a limit to putting hoes before bros, yanno?”
Shi Jin avoided his gaze, expression sheepish. “Actually… We’ll probably leave B city as soon as the winter break starts and spend the rest of the winter on an island in the south… You know how cold the winter here gets.”
Liu Yong and Luo Donghao: “……”
“Ah! You damn rich kid!” Liu Yong let go of Shi Jin’s collar, grabbed a handful of snow to make a snowball, and threw it at Shi Jin.
Shi Jin hurriedly dodged, then turned and ran away.
Liu Yong let out an angry shout and chased after him.
Luo Donghao watched from the side, speechless at his two friends’ childishness.
If you’re seeing this notice, you’re reading this chapter on pirate site – the original translator of Death Progress Bar is Betwixted Translations.
On the second day of the fitness test, the weather refused to cooperate. The students in Class 1 were in the middle of the long-distance run when it started to snow.
Liu Yong gnashed his teeth. “Luo Donghao, you damn crow’s mouth! You kept saying it was gonna snow and jinxed us! It was still sunny in the morning!”
“The weather forecast yesterday said it might snow today,” Luo Donghao countered.
“But it said it might snow today at night!”
Shi Jin hurriedly squeezed in between them, placating, “Okay, that’s enough, talking also consumes physical strength. Let’s hurry up and finish the run, things will get bad if this snow gets any heavier.”
Liu Yong and Luo Donghao both shut up and picked up their pace.
Death Progress Bar is translated by Betwixted Translations. Read on the original translator’s site to get the fastest updates!
The end-of-term exams ended without a hitch. On the first day of the winter break, Shi Jin, who spent last evening excited for the winter break, suddenly keeled over while rushing outside to make a snowman and was hurriedly taken to the infirmary by Lian Jun and Gua One.
“After running in the snow and becoming all sweaty, instead of warming yourself in the shower and putting on dry clothes in school, you came back in the damp jogging suit. To top it off, in the evening, you drank soda straight from the fridge, and in the morning, you stuck your head out of the window to see the snow in the yard. If this isn’t a textbook example of self-inflicted, I don’t know what is!” Growling, Uncle Long took Shi Jin’s temperature, then his expression turned even angrier. “39.6°C. Get your ass in the bed, I’ll give you an IV drip.”
Shi Jin obediently found a bed and lay down. He glanced at frowning and worried-looking Lian Jun, who’d been stopped outside the infirmary door by Uncle Long’s assistant, and managed to force a smile at him.
“What are you smiling for like a fool? And you, Jun-shao—didn’t you pick him up yesterday? Why did you let him come back in wet clothes? This morning, too—didn’t you notice that his face was strangely flushed?” Uncle Long stopped beside the bed, blocking Shi Jin’s line of sight, and scolded Lian Jun while setting up the IV drip.
Lian Jun’s hands resting on the wheelchair armrests unconsciously clenched into fists. “You’re right, it’s my negligence. He’s always been in good health so I became careless. I did notice his face was flushed but I thought it was because he was excited about making a snowman.”
Shi Jin immediately came to his defense: “No, it’s clearly my…”
“You shut up.” Uncle Long pulled the blanket over Shi Jin’s head, cutting him off. “The patient should act like a patient and rest. Gua One, tell the staff to disinfect Jun-shao’s room. Jun-shao, from right now until Shi Jin completely recovers, you must live separately and not have close contact. Also, minimize time spent in the same room to avoid getting infected.”
Lian Jun glanced at Shi Jin lying on the infirmary bed and didn’t reply, his face unreadable.
“I’ll be fine, Jun-shao. My fever will come down soon, I just need to sleep it off. When I get well, I’ll make a snowman for you,” Shi Jin appeased, lifting his head from the bed to look at his lover. His face, flushed from the fever, looked silly and pitiful.
Lian Jun moved his wheelchair forward, trying to get closer to him, but was firmly blocked by Uncle Long’s assistant. Unwilling to give up, he forced himself to calm down and looked at Shi Jin, soothing, “Go to sleep, then. I’ll stay right outside and watch over you.”
Shi Jin wanted to say no but seeing Lian Jun’s expression, he swallowed his words and said instead, “Let’s play mahjong together later.”
Lian Jun felt a pang of resentment for his own useless body, but it didn’t show on his face. “Okay,” he agreed.
‘Sickness comes on horseback, but goes away on foot’; before Lian Jun came back with the tablet, Shi Jin had already fallen asleep. He seemed not to feel comfortable as his sleeping face was creased in a frown.
Lian Jun put down the tablet and slid the wheelchair into the infirmary under Uncle Long’s reproachful stare.
“Jun-shao.” The doctor’s expression radiated disapproval.
“I’ll just take a look at him, I won’t stay long,” Lian Jun insisted.
In the end, Uncle Long gave in. He took out a medical mask and handed it to Lian Jun, saying, “Don’t get too close. You can’t be careless now. If you get sick and damage your body again, all your previous effort will go to waste.”
Lian Jun let out a confirming hum to show he understood. He took the mask and put it on, then moved the wheelchair to the side of the bed and touched Shi Jin’s fevered face.
Probably because Lian Jun’s fingers felt cool and comfortable, Shi Jin’s frown loosened a little and he instinctively turned his face towards him.
Lian Jun’s heart felt soft. He leaned down, wanting to kiss him, but forced himself to hold back. With his other hand, he touched Shi Jin’s hand connected to the IV drip and stroked it gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t take good care of you… Please get well soon.”
“Bamboo rice…” Shi Jin muttered suddenly, smacking his lips.
Lian Jun blinked, taken aback, then smiled and caressed Shi Jin’s cheek. “All right, when you’re better, we’ll cook bamboo rice as promised.”
Shi Jin dreamed again. In the dream, ‘he’ was lying on the hospital bed, numb and indifferent, while Li Jiuzheng in a white coat stood next to him, motionless. Neither of them spoke. Though obviously alive, they seemed more like two inanimate objects rather than living people.
It was getting dark, but no one turned on the lights. As the darkness of night permeated the hospital room, the sharp scalpel in Li Jiuzheng’s hand felt more and more terrifying.
“Will you live through your 19th birthday?” Li Jiuzheng suddenly spoke. His voice was low and hoarse, and weirdly hollow.
“That patient’s family came here again, arguing over the inheritance next to his bed.” Li Jiuzheng played with the scalpel. The steel flashed in his slender, alabaster fingers, beautiful and dangerous. “They thought my patient was going to die—unfortunately for them, I saved him. They were very disappointed. I liked seeing them disappointed.”
Finally roused out of his indifference, ‘he’ looked up at Li Jiuzheng.
Li Jiuzheng also looked at him. His beautiful face was expressionless, but the words coming from his lips were like a demonic incantation: “I will save you, too. I won’t let you die, so don’t ever think of dying.” Even though he said this, his eyes were filled with boundless icy killing intent, and his hand with the scalpel moved close to ‘him.’
“Good night, Fifth Brother,” ‘he’ replied in a numb voice, slowly closing his eyes. “See you in hell.”
The room sank into silence again. After a while, it was broken by the sound of receding footsteps as the devil finally left.
‘He’ loosened his tightly clenched fists, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably. ‘He’ opened his eyes and looked at the door—he wanted to leave here, get away from this tomb-like place, to live—
Beep—
The vital signs monitor let out the long continuous beep, a shrill lament for life slipping away. A piercing, overwhelming pain, that was perhaps the pain of a soul peeling off from the flesh, spread through ‘his’ whole body.
“Ah!”
Shi Jin’s eyes snapped open. He stared at Li Jiuzheng, who was sitting next to his bed peeling an apple, for a few seconds. His body reacting before his brain, he sprang forward and snatched the knife from Li Jiuzheng’s hand. Holding it in a reverse grip, he aimed at Li Jiuzheng’s neck beneath and stabbed downward—
“Xiao Jin!”
Suddenly, he heard Xiang Aoting’s shout coming from behind, then a strong hand caught his wrist in a vise-like grip.
The tip of the knife hovered just above Li Jiuzheng’s neck. Shi Jin froze, staring at Li Jiuzheng with wide eyes and breathing hard, madness born out of desperation distorting his face.
Li Jiuzheng was pressed under Shi Jin’s body, staring blankly at him. Suddenly, his lips tightened and he reached out to hold Shi Jin’s hand clutching the knife, pulling it down towards his neck.
“What are you doing?!”
Shocked, Xiang Aoting hurriedly yanked Shi Jin’s hand up. He hugged him up and moved him away from Li Jiuzheng, then pulled the knife out of his hand and threw it aside. Turning to Li Jiuzheng, he demanded, “Xiao Jin has a fever and is confused. Are you confused, too? Get a hold of yourself!”
He put Shi Jin on the bed and tucked him in. He touched Shi Jin’s face and made him look in his eyes. “Xiao Jin, hey, look at me. Everything’s fine, calm down, you’re safe now, calm down.”
Reason slowly returned to Shi Jin’s eyes, and he realized that he’d been influenced by the original ‘Shi Jin’s’ memories and emotions again. As his head throbbed with pain, he raised a hand and pressed it to his forehead. “I want to see Lian Jun. Where’s he? I want to see him.”
Xiang Aoting hurriedly took out his phone and called Lian Jun.
Li Jiuzheng watched Shi Jin’s weak, distressed appearance, and clenched his fists.
Lian Jun immediately rushed over and hugged Shi Jin to his chest.
Uncle Long was angry and worried but there was no helping it under the circumstances, so he had to settle for making Lian Jun wear a mask.
Shi Jin started to feel groggy again and soon began nodding off in Lian Jun’s arms. Lian Jun stroked his hair and soothed him until he completely fell asleep, then laid him back in the bed.
After calming Shi Jin, Lian Jun left the infirmary and looked at Li Jiuzheng and Xiang Aoting waiting outside. “What happened?” he asked. “You got Shi Jin in this state as soon as you arrived. What did you say to him?”
Xiang Aoting frowned. “Nothing. Xiao Jin was asleep and seemed to have a nightmare. He woke up suddenly and—”
“He was scared of me,” Li Jiuzheng said in a dull voice, interrupting him. Sounding as if he was talking to himself, he continued, “He’s afraid that I want to kill him, so how could he not be frightened seeing me? After all, at that time when he was injured and couldn’t resist, I forcefully brought him to Rongcheng and almost killed him in the cemetery.”
“Jiuzheng,” Xiang Aoting called him in a deep voice.
Li Jiuzheng looked over at him, his gaze blank and unfocused. “He remembers the clothes I wore that day, my every action… Fourth Brother, it’s over for me, isn’t it?”
“Enough,” Lian Jun interrupted them, glancing back at the infirmary door. “I don’t care about your moods or internal dramas—the only thing I care about is that Shi Jin wants to have a reunion dinner with his family. Don’t make him feel disappointed. Gua One, take the guests to their rooms.”
Gua One, who’d been silently standing behind the wheelchair, immediately stepped forward and motioned for Xiang Aoting and Li Jiuzheng to go with him.
Xiang Aoting glanced at the door and then at Lian Jun, frowning. He took hold of Li Jiuzheng, who didn’t want to leave, and followed Gua One.
Shi Jin was dragged into a gray and dark-hued dream, in which he lived in Li Jiuzheng’s private hospital. Sometimes he was awake and thinking clearly, sometimes he was disoriented and confused. Drifting in and out of consciousness, all he could smell was medicine and disinfectants, all he could hear was the sound of medical equipment, and when he opened his eyes, all he could see was the white, bleak hospital room.
No one talked to him. Oh, wrong, there was someone—only one person.
Tap, tap, tap… The faint sound of expensive leather shoes on the corridor floor reached his ears.
He shuddered and opened his eyes, looking at the door in terror.
The sound of footsteps died away, replaced by the sound of the turning door handle, and a figure in a white coat appeared in the door.
“The nurse said that your mental state is very unstable,” the devil said in a monotonous, robot-like voice, approaching the bed. “This won’t do. You need to rest properly, only then you’ll be able to recover. Shi Jin, you can’t die now.”
N-no, it was impossible. The car accident damaged his internal organs—he was slowly dying because they were failing little by little. It would take a miracle to save him now. The only thing he wanted was for everything to finally end—
A cold light flashed as a hand holding a scalpel appeared in front of him.
“Are you in pain?”
He looked at the blade point right in front of his eyes, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
“Do want to be free from pain?”
His lips moved but no sound came from his mouth.
“May I help you get rid of it?” A face both familiar and unfamiliar appeared in his field of vision, with cold eyes, cold voice. “It hurts very much, doesn’t it? May I help you get rid of the pain?”
He closed his eyes, not wanting to see this expression on this face.
“You’re my little brother, I naturally want to help you.”
His cheek was touched by cold fingers that didn’t feel like those of a living person. Then, they shifted to another place, stopping on the pulse in his neck.
“But if you’re dead, what should I do.”
The fingers that smelled like disinfectant left. He opened his eyes again and looked at Li Jiuzheng, who had already straightened, unable to conceal the hatred in his eyes.
Li Jiuzheng also looked at him, meeting his gaze. Abruptly, he smiled, then leaned down, picked up a bottle of medicine, and poured it into the IV bag.
“You are my one and only little brother, a gift from God,” Li Jiuzheng said. He watched the medicine slowly dripping through the IV catheter, a satisfied look on his face. “Be good and sleep. You should rest properly.”
As the cold liquid poured into his body, the drowsiness crept in. He tried to pry his eyelids open to see Li Jiuzheng’s expression clearly, but the other person’s hand suddenly covered his eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that with these eyes,” he heard the devil whisper, with a trace of emotions he couldn’t identify. “Or I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you to hell with me. You’re a gift from God, Xiao Jin. I won’t let you go.”
Darkness struck—
A faint sound of shuffling mahjong tiles entered his ears, and Shi Jin suddenly struggled awake from the dream. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to glance in the direction of the sound.
Lian Jun sat next to the bed watching over him, and there was a tablet in his hand. Noticing Shi Jin’s movements, he reached out to touch his forehead. “Your fever seems to be gone, but you’ve been sleeping for a long time. Uncle Long said that after you’d woken up, you should get up and move about for a while. Lying in bed for too long is not good for your body.”
Shi Jin closed his eyes and rubbed his head against Lian Jun’s palm.
“Your brothers have all arrived. They’re in the kitchen, cooking for the reunion dinner. Do you want to go and see?” Lian Jun asked softly, smoothing the teenager’s brow.
Shi Jin opened his eyes. He contemplated the scene in his dream, then nodded.
Lian Jun stood up from the wheelchair, helped Shi Jin get up from the bed, and supported him to the bathroom. After a brief washing up, he continued to lead him outside.
“Your legs…” Shi Jin glanced down worriedly.
“I’m fine,” Lian Jun replied, squeezing his hand. “Uncle Long has given me new medicine recently and they won’t hurt when I walk.”
Shi Jin nodded and squeezed his hand back. In his mind, he poked Xiao Si. “Before I attacked Li Jiuzheng, I’d dreamt of the original ‘Shi Jin’s’ last moments. It was terrible… Dying isn’t pleasant at all.”
Xiao Si uttered, voice brimming with concern.
“I’m okay,” Shi Jin soothed. He was slowly shaking off the gloomy dream. “Like before, I just need to overcome the past. This reunion dinner will be a good opportunity… Just keep an eye on me, please. If necessary, knock me out or immobilize my body so I won’t do something that cannot be undone.” At the end of his life, the original ‘Shi Jin’s’ mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of revenge and making his brothers die with him. If Shi Jin got controlled by those emotions, it would probably be a game over.
Xiao Si said in a subdued voice. It was silent for a while, then asked abruptly,
This question was quite vague but Shi Jin understood what the system meant. Glancing at the person walking beside him, he replied, “No… Thank you for giving me a chance to meet Lian Jun.”
By the time he arrived at the kitchen, Shi Jin’s body felt much stronger. Without alerting his brothers to his presence, he stood by the door and watched them bustle around, slowly adjusting his thoughts and emotions.
“Does Xiao Jin like ginger?” Shi Weichong asked suddenly. It drew Shi Jin’s attention to him, and he looked carefully at his eldest brother.
Since the last time they saw each other, Shi Weichong became thinner. His forehead, which used to always be wrinkled in a frown, smoothed out, and the atmosphere around him was less severe. When he turned his head to talk to Fei Yujing, his eyes were warm. He seemed much gentler and more approachable than in the past.
“I don’t know,” Fei Yujing replied. His tone and manner were still those of a cool lawyer, which unintentionally made the scene look a bit comical as he was holding a bunch of vegetables at the moment.
Shi Jin’s gaze shifted to him, and the corners of his mouth twitched—Fei Yujing looked as cold and aloof as usual. Oddly, there were not many emotional fluctuations in Shi Jin’s heart. Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising, though; he felt there was no point wasting emotions on this kind of impartial, indifferent person who only acted according to gains and losses.
“Fifth, you’re lying to me again, aren’t you? Does Xiao Jin really like onions?” Rong Zhouzhong’s voice suddenly sounded.
Shi Jin turned his head, only to see Rong Zhouzhong standing at a small table and cutting onions with a contorted expression, his peach blossom eyes red and tears streaming down his face.
Shi Jin couldn’t help but chuckle.
What a dunce. Didn’t he know he should cut onions in water or cover his nose? This way of crying is so ugly.
“Third Brother, stop for a moment and wipe your face first,” Xiang Aoting said with a frown, handing Rong Zhouzhong a tissue.
Rong Zhouzhong took it and wiped his tears, but he accidentally touched his eyes with the onion-stained fingers. Immediately, he let out a howl of pain and started groping around for the kitchen sink to wash his eyes while loudly cursing Li Jiuzheng. Seeing him fumble about like a blind man, Xiang Aoting hurriedly stepped forward to help him, asking him to stop making a ruckus in a helpless voice.
Shi Jin watched them, smile deepening. His eyes flicked around the kitchen until his gaze happened to meet Li Jiuzheng’s.
Li Jiuzheng had been killing fish. He was holding a knife, and his hands were covered in blood.
In an instant, Shi Jin’s smile froze.
Clatter.
Li Jiuzheng dropped the knife and began to frantically wipe his bloody hands on his clothes. He kept glancing up at Shi Jin anxiously, looking as if he wanted to speak but was unable to express himself. Soon, he saw that the front of the orange sweater he wore became completely dirty with blood and stiffened, his movements slowing to a halt.
What the hell. Each one is a bigger idiot than the last.
Shi Jin took a deep breath and got his emotions under control. He knocked loudly on the door frame, attracting everyone’s attention, and said with a smile, “Good afternoon, brothers.”
Whoever wanted to go to hell could go by himself—he was staying right damn here.