Chapter 110 – Extra 2

One of the tokens of love, the “Dog Head Necklace,” has triumphantly returned to its rightful place with a sky-high price of seventy million. Now, let’s rewind the clock twenty-four hours before Luo Chenzhou’s reunion with Caesar to take a look at the second token of love: the “confiscated Ghost Slayer.”

On the first day, Comrade Luo Chenzhou went through immense effort to reclaim Ghost Slayer from Old Man Luo.

The dark-haired young man nearly resorted to performing a stunt of eating dog food on the spot to win his father’s favor—not because he wanted to carry Ghost Slayer everywhere he went, but because he couldn’t bear to see his father using the masterpiece of a once-in-a-generation genius to cut watermelon.

The watermelon, of course, was very red.

The watermelon’s juice clung to the gleaming blade of Ghost Slayer, and as Luo Chenzhou watched, it felt as if the dagger was shedding tears of blood.

“The blade’s edge is chipped. Do you think I care? Antiques like this—you can get ten of them for a hundred bucks at a flea market, with discounts for bulk purchases. It’s clearly just a gimmick to fool clueless kids like you,” the old man scoffed, wiping the priceless antique on a dishcloth at home. He then sheathed Ghost Slayer and tossed it to his eldest son. “Take it. The chipped edge is one thing, but when I used it earlier, there was a fish scale stuck to it. I even washed it before cutting the watermelon—could you be any messier, you unlucky brat?”

Fish scale? That was a Siren’s scale, a souvenir your filial son brought back from five hundred years ago for you, old man!

Luo Chenzhou, indignant, took Ghost Slayer and caressed it like a treasure before burying it deep into the pile of clothes in his suitcase.

On the second day, he was stopped by a beautiful airport security officer at the checkpoint.

The officer smiled warmly and kindly: “Sir, according to regulations, for the safety of yourself and others, controlled knives are not allowed on the plane.”

Luo Chenzhou: “…”

Comrade Luo Chenzhou felt as though the entire world was conspiring against him.

As he filled out the baggage check form, the dark-haired young man silently shed a tear of bitterness, thinking to himself, “Big Dog, Big Dog, to protect this token of love you gave me, I’ve made the whole world my enemy.”

…

Within twelve hours, Ghost Slayer went from being a priceless collectible worth ten thousand gold coins to a watermelon cutter, and finally, a controlled weapon.

Luo Chenzhou wasn’t sure which identity was more devastating for the invaluable dagger. All he knew was that compared to five hundred years ago, the modern world felt utterly devoid of romance. These people had a knack for reducing sacred tokens of love to the cheapness of flea market goods.

Of course, Luo Chenzhou had no idea at the time that the “genuine flea market item” he had given Caesar had, roughly thirty-six hours prior, transformed into a luxury item worth seventy million—while Ghost Slayer, which might have been worth seventy million back then, had now become a seven-dollar, seventy-seven-cent flea market item.

The wheel of fortune turns, and that’s just how it goes.

Checking Ghost Slayer as baggage cost twenty yuan. To express his seriousness, Luo Chenzhou also bought insurance for it.

Total cost: thirty-five yuan and twenty cents. Ghost Slayer was successfully secured.

As Luo Chenzhou dragged his luggage alone along the path to the boarding gate, the airport’s marble floor gleamed spotlessly, coldly reflecting his blurry figure under the harsh, impersonal light. Lowering his head, Luo Chenzhou suddenly found himself lost in a memory: he used to lean over the railing of the Wind Fury, taking advantage of his newfound immunity to seasickness to stare down at the turbulent waters of the Mediterranean, watching his own reflection in the deep blue sea.

What had Big Dog said about such a foolish act?

“Idiot, you deserve to puke your guts out.”

…

The sound of the luggage wheels rattling on the floor seemed to be the only noise around him. As Luo Chenzhou walked, he passed chattering parents sending their children off on flights, silent businesspeople rushing by with their heads down—clearly frequent flyers—and couples clinging to each other in tearful farewells, as if parting for eternity.

“…”

The dark-haired young man raised an eyebrow, his expression cool and aloof, as if to say, “What’s the point of crying?”

…Crying? What’s the point?

Even if you’re on the other side of the planet, plug in an internet cable, top up your phone, and you can video call, chat, or even send a love letter via text if you’re in the mood—

Geographical distance is nothing.

A timeline longer than the equator is the real deal.

I stand here in the age of advanced technology, while you’re over there, stubbornly refusing to believe that something like an airplane could even exist.

Day after day, I think of you but can’t see you. You drink small beer, I drink tap water.

The worst thing in the world isn’t having to pay international roaming fees to make a call—it’s when you’re willing to pay double those fees, but there’s no number you can dial to reach the person you’ve been thinking about day and night, even while taking a dump, to the point where you feel like you’re going to vomit from longing. Even if all you want is to hear him call you “trash” in that particularly thrilling way of his.

But even that’s impossible—could anything be worse than having to google search terms when you’re missing your lover? And Google doesn’t even provide a photo, so you have to take a moment to mentally conjure up his handsome dog face for comfort.

Luo Chenzhou felt he had chosen the wrong major—if he had known better, he would have studied information engineering. Then he could have dedicated his life to inventing a phone that could call five hundred years into the past. Ha.

Boarding the plane, finding his seat, sitting down.

As the dark-haired young man sat expressionlessly by the window, his gaze calm as he looked out through the small window at the bustling airport staff on the tarmac, he had no idea that, thousands of miles away, a man with simple luggage was boarding a flight from Munich to China.

One carried Ghost Slayer, which Caesar had given to Luo Chenzhou.

One carried the Dog Head Necklace, which Luo Chenzhou had given to Caesar.

As the plane slowly ascended into the clouds, they both looked out through the transparent windows and saw the same blue sky.

They were moving toward the same destination from opposite ends of the Earth, heading for that long-planned reunion.

…

“Five hundred years from now, if we meet again, will you remember me?”

“Yes.”

Everyone in the Mediterranean knew that Caesar of the “Black Waves” was a man of his word.

And so, five hundred years later, he finally stood before him.

…

—Kid, you look familiar. Have we met somewhere before?

“…”

—To hell with you, of course we have. It wasn’t long ago, nor was it far away. It was five hundred years ago, by the Mediterranean Sea.