Hypocrite 23

Prologue: The Isolated Meadow

October 23, 2023, 23:23. A figure stood in an endless field of wheat, an abandoned farm sat crookedly in the distance. He was alone as he stared into space, with no signs of life anywhere around him.

The autumn breeze brushed his hair along with the tall, golden grass as the beam of sun started to dim down. He slowly dragged his foot along the ground, the plants moved out of the way for him as he passes. He stopped in front of the broken house and looked down.  There it stood, a cracked tombstone, the words that were indented was filled up with dirt, making it hard to read. He stretched out a pale hand as he knelt down at the same level of the grave, tracing the letters with his thin fingers. 

The man closed his eyes to feel the warmth of the sun disappearing to the west, the starry night starting to show up. He didn't know how long his eyelids were shut, but by the time he opened it again, he was in the same but different scenery. He was still standing in the field, but the crops were visibly greener and shorter, the building that was once wrecked was standing perfectly fine in the same spot. But none of that was important to him, the thing that matters to him the most was that gravestone. It was gone. 

He looked around in confusion, it was daylight again. He looked down at his watch to make sure he wasn't dreaming. 23:23, it read. 

He stepped into the house, it looked brand new. Memories came flooding back to him as he stared at his surroundings. Did he suddenly travel back in time? Or was it truly just a dream.

"Xianyang!" A familiar voice called out his name gently. 

He froze in place, scared that if he turned around, the scene would shatter like it always does. 

"Xianyang, answer me," the sound seemed so close to him, yet so far away at the same time, "are you mad again? I promise I'll come back early next time."

Mu Xianyang couldn't hold it back anymore. He slowly moved his body towards where the voice was coming from. 

"Xianyang," the delicate face Mu Xianyang hasn't seen in years smiled at him, "I'm back."

A single tear fell from his cheeks as he moved towards the woman. 

"I-Is it... really you? Am I still dreaming? Tell me that this is real." He reached out to grab her hand.

But all he felt was air. His arms went right through her as if she was a ghost. Her body started to fade away, slowly.

"N-no, you said you'd come back. You told me to wait for you. No-" Mu Xianyang desperately cried out as the last bit of the figure disappeared in his palms. 

_____

Mu Xianyang fluttered his eyes, opening them again. He was leaning against the tombstone, the abandoned house was beside him. The moon was high up in the sky. It was chilly, but Mu Xianyang didn't feel any coldness. He was already frozen up on the inside.

"I knew it," he sighed as he shook his head, "it's been four years. Every night. I dream about you every night. And every time,  I believed that it was really you. Yet, you love to make me seem like a clown. Lies after lies, my heart can only take so much. So don't let me wait for too long and come back, please."