After the divorce, he went on a motorcycle trip, and his ex-wife and daughter were filled with regre

On a weekend evening, the afterglow of the setting sun painted the sky with a magnificent fiery glow, with large clusters of sunset clouds hanging like burning flames atop the mountains outside Hanju.

The "Cloud Wilderness" has finally welcomed its first batch of 30,000 rigorously selected tourists.

At the entrance to the town, there was no deafening welcoming music or flashy commercial signs, only two rows of staff members dressed in plain long gowns standing quietly on both sides of the bluestone road.

Every visitor who enters here must abide by one strict order: hand over all mobile phones, tablets, and other electronic communication devices.

Moreover, before crossing the ancient wooden archway, everyone must choose an exquisite mask provided by the organizers from the shelf beside it. Some are mysterious foxes, some are majestic tigers, and some are pure white faceless masks.

Here, no one cares about your real identity, no one cares whether you drive a Rolls-Royce or take the bus, and no one cares whether your bank account balance is in the eight figures or you are heavily in debt.

The moment the mask is put on, all social labels and class barriers are utterly shattered. People communicate only with their souls and touch the world only with their most authentic senses.

As night falls, the town lights up. They aren't glaring neon lights, but warm, dim, antique-style lanterns, scattered like stars among the well-arranged buildings, creating a scene reminiscent of a fairyland.

Zhao Changjiang's "The Loneliest Bar" has unsurprisingly become the most popular landmark in the entire town.

Outside the bar, a long line of tourists wearing various masks stretched for hundreds of meters into a narrow alley paved with bluestone slabs. What was truly astonishing was that, despite the long line, not a single person made a sound, and there was hardly even a whisper among them.

The bar was unusually quiet.

There was no deafening bass, no frantically twisting dance lead dancer, and no clinking of glasses and drinking contests.

Inside the spacious wooden stilted building, all the seats are designed as single seats facing the cliff. People sit quietly in their seats, holding the bartender's special cocktail in their hands, their eyes looking through the huge floor-to-ceiling glass window at the sea of ​​clouds rolling in the night and the continuous mountains outside.

On stage, the lights were dim. Zhao Changjiang, holding his worn-out wooden guitar, closed his eyes and softly sang folk songs about regret, missed opportunities, and loneliness in his hoarse voice, full of vicissitudes and brokenness.

"I've brewed my youth into strong liquor, yet it can't intoxicate this long, dark night..."

The song echoed in the empty bar, striking the depths of everyone's soul.

Several masked tourists listened, their shoulders beginning to tremble slightly. They made no sound, silently raising their glasses and swallowing the pungent liquor along with their tears. In this absolutely safe space, they could finally shed the hard armor they wore during the day and lick their wounds without restraint.

At this moment, on a secluded terrace on the second floor of the bar that is not open to the public.

Jiang Ye and Han Qingru, also wearing masks, stood side by side in front of the wooden railing.

Jiang Ye wore a black Shura mask, while Han Qingru wore an exquisite half-face fox mask, revealing her smooth, full chin and luscious red lips.

They looked down from their elevated position, surveying the tourists below who had shed their pretenses, some even silently weeping in the corners. They gazed upon this magical space they had created with their own hands.

Jiang Ye turned his head, his gaze deep as he looked at Han Qingru beside him. The night breeze ruffled the stray hairs by her ears, brushing against the mysterious fox mask, exuding an irresistible charm.

"Big sister."

Jiang Ye's voice was soft, but it carried an undisguised excitement and pride.

"We did it."

"We really did build a utopia on these ruins."

Upon hearing Jiang Ye's words, Han Qingru slowly turned her head.

Beneath the mask, her beautiful peach blossom eyes shone with a gentle, watery light. Looking at the spirited, radiant man before her, her heart was filled with boundless pride and love.

Han Qingru didn't speak. She simply stretched out her fair and soft hand and, under the cover of night, gently grasped Jiang Ye's broad and kind hand.

Then, five fingers passed through his fingers, and ten fingers intertwined.

Their palms pressed tightly together, feeling each other's burning body heat. In this utopia isolated from the hustle and bustle, the rhythm of their two heartbeats seemed to gradually merge into one.

……

Time passed, and it was 11 p.m.

The climax of the first "Cloud Wilderness Mask Music Festival" officially arrived in the huge square at the very center of the town!

In the center of the square, a huge bonfire, over ten meters tall, shot into the sky! The blazing fire illuminated the entire night sky in a fiery red, and sparks danced in the night wind, like countless stars falling to earth.

There are no deafening electronic DJs here, and no blinding laser lights.

Only a few dozen musicians sat around the campfire, frantically pounding primitive African drums with their hands and striking ethereal, melodious handpans.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

The primal, wild, and rhythmically explosive drumbeats seem to strike directly at the heart, awakening the most primal impulses and freedom deep within human genes!

Tens of thousands of masked tourists went completely wild!

They stood around the huge campfire, hand in hand, regardless of whether they were men or women, young or old. They cast aside all constraints and danced to the rhythm of the drums—the most primal, free, and unrestrained dance.

Some people were laughing, some were screaming, and some were releasing their long-suppressed souls in the firelight.

Jiang Ye, holding Han Qingru's hand, also plunged into the grand carnival.

Illuminated by the flickering firelight, Han Qingru completely shed her usual aloof and dignified demeanor as a female CEO, and also abandoned the restraint and composure she possessed as the "elder sister."

She was like a carefree, love-struck young girl.

She grabbed Jiang Ye's hand and spun and jumped wildly around the fire. The hem of her trench coat fluttered in the wind, and her eyes, hidden behind the fox mask, curved into beautiful crescents, emitting bursts of clear, melodious laughter like silver bells.

"Ono! Hurry up and keep up!"

Han Qingru shouted loudly, pulling Jiang Ye through the crowd.

The two drank quite a bit of locally brewed fruit wine at a liquor stall on the edge of the square. This fruit wine was sweet on the palate, but its aftereffects were surprisingly strong.

After a few glasses of fruit wine, a slight buzz quickly spread through their veins.

Fueled by alcohol and infected by the frenzied atmosphere around them.

The way they looked at each other grew increasingly intense and passionate. The emotions that had been suppressed in their hearts for many years were like a volcano about to erupt, and could no longer be concealed.

The wild African drumming ended.

Both of them were panting heavily and covered in sweat from jumping.

Jiang Ye grabbed Han Qingru's wrist and, taking advantage of a break in the crowd, led her away from the noisy central square.

The two jogged along a secluded stone path to a quiet grassy slope on the hill behind the town.

Far from the noise of the campfire, only the cool moonlight shines on the soft grass, and the surroundings are so quiet that only the chirping of summer insects can be heard.

Han Qingru was running too fast and her steps were a little unsteady because she had been drinking. Just as she reached the top of the grassy slope, she tripped over a protruding stone.

"what!"

Han Qingru cried out in surprise, lost her balance, and fell straight forward.