HLM – Chapter 1013 My God

In early May, the weather in New Zealand grew even colder as winter officially arrived.

Although by the solar terms the country had long entered winter, the true cold had only just begun—snow, cold fronts, and icy winds would start visiting the country more frequently from May onward.

Early in the morning, Nina and Rich drove out of Queenstown, heading along State Highway 8.  Both of them came from Arizona in the United States—a land of desert where there seemed to be only one season: hot, hot, and hot.

When Nina and Rich had first fallen in love, their feelings were much the same—blazing hot. They couldn’t bear to be apart; whenever they separated, one of them would always seek out the other, and they would be together again.

After getting married, however, their relationship finally began to change.

They hadn’t even been married long—barely a year—but the newlyweds felt as though ten years had passed. Without the novelty of passion to sustain them, the heat between them turned into restlessness.

Nina was a photographer. She had interned at National Geographic, and possessed an extraordinary passion for travel and photography.

Rich was different. He was a newspaper editor, someone who preferred quiet. Only a peaceful environment allowed him to organize words into lines of elegant prose.

In many ways, they were nothing alike. Before marriage they believed these differences made them complementary—a match made in heaven. After marriage, the lack of common ground began to generate friction.

Nina had a dream—to travel the world. So she had always worked hard and lived frugally to save money for her dream.

Rich had no such inclination. His dream was to build a cozy cabin at the edge of Alaska’s snowy forests, and stay there—reading quietly, writing quietly, watching auroras in winter and sunrises in summer.

One day, they finally started attacking each other’s dreams. Americans valued dreams even more highly than privacy. Stephen Chow’s line, “Without dreams, what’s the difference between you and a salted fish?”, suited them perfectly.

After the fierce clash came a further breakdown of their relationship. Both realized in despair that they could no longer walk forward together.

Over Easter, Nina tried to revive their relationship, but failed.

So they began to put divorce on the agenda.

They still loved each other, but love wasn’t everything in life.

In April, the two hired lawyers to prepare the divorce. Rich’s divorce lawyer was a kind man; he advised Rich that before signing the papers, he should take his wife to fulfill one of her wishes.

Rich, being a responsible man, thought it was a good idea. Besides, he did owe Nina—after their wedding last year, they hadn’t traveled abroad for a honeymoon.

They had planned to go to Antarctica to see penguins, but Rich’s newspaper had an urgent assignment at the time, and he was extremely busy. Nina had been considerate and never brought it up again.

But going to Antarctica in April was a terrible decision—this time of year was freezing in the Southern Hemisphere, with ice storms everywhere.

So instead, they chose to travel to New Zealand, to visit this idyllic island—a final trip together before their separation.

Their first stop was Queenstown. After all, every travel magazine recommended it; “If you haven’t been to Queenstown, you haven’t been to New Zealand”—a slogan that frequently appeared in travel articles.

But perhaps they had come at the wrong season. In April, Queenstown had no golden sycamore leaves, no gentle lakes ringed by mountains—only damp and chilly weather.

After driving for who knew how long, Rich finally couldn’t resist complaining:

“I must have been out of my mind when I made this decision. Choosing New Zealand in April—ha, brilliant.”

Nina lit a cigarette and said coldly,

“Could you stop complaining? The scenery is beautiful, but your whining makes everything look dull.”

Rich opened the window. Damp, cold air blasted in.

“What’s wrong with me complaining? Am I wrong? Just look at this damned weather! Look at the temperature—I’m going crazy!”

Nina replied,

“Why not turn the car around and go to the airport? You go back to Phoenix. I’d rather take a lonely trip alone.”

Rich snapped, “What do you mean? We’re married, darling—right now we’re still married. Could we try understanding each other? It’s not that I dislike New Zealand—I just don’t like traveling!”

Nina gave him a “can’t be bothered talking to you” expression and quietly exhaled smoke.

This was what Rich couldn’t stand the most. He believed that if there was a problem, they should talk it out. Nina didn’t do that. Rich felt his complaints were forced out of him by her silence.

The car sped down Highway 8. Near noon, the scenery suddenly shifted—despite the whistling wind, flowers appeared on both sides of the road.

“The Birth Flower Road—we’re in Sunset Town. My colleague said this is the garden of the South Island,” Nina commented instinctively upon seeing the blooming flowers.

But many flowers had already withered in winter. The Birth Flower Road was far less awe-inspiring than in spring, summer, or fall. Rich found it pleasant enough, but not particularly moving.

Lunch, however, was a delightful surprise. They picked a random restaurant, and the delicious roasted meat made them devour it eagerly.

“This shouldn’t be called the garden of the South Island—it should be called the kitchen of the South Island,” Rich joked.

Nina didn’t respond; she simply looked down, browsing local travel information on her phone.

This bored and enraged Rich.

“Do you really need to look that up? Go check out the paid attractions—the best ones are always the ones you pay for.”

“Ha.” Nina laughed dismissively and remained silent.

Rich was thoroughly provoked. After they finished eating, he asked the owner about scenic spots.

The owner frowned:

“Paid attractions? Hmm… there aren’t many. Maybe go see the glowworm cave—that one charges admission.”

Two hundred dollars for two tickets later, the couple stood outside the glowworm cave.

The place was extremely quiet—no advertising, no promotional activities, hardly anyone knew the cave had recently opened.

“Two hundred dollars, just wasted like that…” Rich shrugged and began complaining again. Nina ignored him and walked in directly.

Rich handed over his phone and camera, then followed. He pushed aside the curtain and entered the dark cave. A few dots of brilliant blue light appeared.

“These glowworms are actually pretty nice,” Rich muttered.

Then he heard Nina ahead cry out, “Oh my God!”

Recognizing his wife’s voice and fearing something had happened, he rushed forward.

Although there were glow-in-the-dark directional markers inside the cave, he didn’t notice them. He turned a corner and slammed into the wall. Then he instinctively turned around—

—and a sudden shiver ran through him.

“My God—I must’ve knocked my head silly!”