DCHHLT Chapter 23

Moonlit: Thank you, blythe, for the ko-fi~

---

In the darkness, the air seemed to freeze into a solid block, with only silver moonlight flowing in through the gap in the window.

Liang Xingyuan held his breath, waiting for Chu Junshan’s next words.

However, Chu Junshan seemed to simply want to offer a word of reminder, with no intention of expressing his own views.

Soon, he closed his eyes again and fell into a deep sleep.

Chu Junshan slept peacefully and did not stir at any noise, remaining as quiet as he was during the day.

Liang Xingyuan waited for a long time, but could only hear Chu Junshan’s long, even breathing. Other than that, there was nothing.

He lowered his eyes and, after a long pause, let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

Chu Junshan could fall asleep, but he could not.

Those thoughts returned with a vengeance, running rampant in Liang Xingyuan’s mind all night long. Until dawn broke, he still did not feel sleepy in the slightest.

Soon, a slight movement came from beside him, as if someone next to him was waking up.

Liang Xingyuan froze for a moment, then subconsciously closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep too, like any other night he spent watching Chu Junshan.

Sure enough, a rustling sound soon came from beside him. Chu Junshan’s sleep-hazy voice reached his ears: “…Teacher Liang.”

Liang Xingyuan’s thick eyelashes trembled slightly, but he held back and ultimately chose not to open his eyes.

Receiving no response, Chu Junshan did not press the matter. He turned his head and quietly got out of bed.

As Chu Junshan put on his jacket, Liang Xingyuan, pretending to be asleep, could feel the light swish of his sleeves. A faint, sweet fragrance from his body drifted into his nostrils, creating a gentle, comfortable atmosphere.

If it were possible, how Liang Xingyuan wished that they could go on like this forever, continually sharing such tender and wonderful mornings.

At this thought, a tinge of sour bitterness welled up in his heart once again.

If Chu Junshan insisted on leaving him, he truly did not know what method he could use to keep him by his side.

Having lived in the abyss for so many years, he had already learned some of the monsters’ habits.

They lacked human nature and, of course, had none of the tedious etiquette unique to human society.

When the annual mating season arrived, the monsters would find a mate, drag them into their warm, moist den, and spend the arduous spring together.

Male monsters often possessed offensive organs that female monsters lacked. They didn’t use these for hunting. They used them only as sharp weapons to force females to stay when they refused to stay with them.

Liang Xingyuan had, more than once, harbored dark, impossible thoughts.

For instance, if, in the end, Chu Junshan was unwilling to stay by his side, that wouldn’t matter either.

He could do everything in his power, using every possible method, to keep him by his side.

Even if Chu Junshan would hate him, and even if the kisses and love he could obtain would all be bitter, what did that matter—

He had already obtained him. He had already obtained love.

Yesterday, when those tentacles ran wild with madness, these wicked thoughts surfaced in his mind more than once, almost like an instinct unique to a certain creature, urging him to lock Chu Junshan by his side.

But… Liang Xingyuan discovered with a sense of dejection that he could not do it.

It was precisely because he loved him so deeply that he had intuitively mastered the emotions of “tender pity” and “heartache”.

He cherished Chu Junshan above all else. His joys and sorrows were greater than his own desires. In his world, Chu Junshan’s name would always come first.

He found he could not bring himself, out of selfish desire, to keep Chu Junshan by his side and let him live a mediocre, muddled life as a human.

Liang Xingyuan closed his eyes in pain, his thick black eyelashes trembling softly from his struggle, as a single clear, transparent tear noiselessly soaked his lashes, like an inescapable thick fog on a rainy day enveloping his entire body.

His superhuman hearing and sense of smell made him aware of Chu Junshan’s every move. After leaving the bed, he had walked into the bathroom and begun to wash up.

The footsteps grew distant and near by turns, soon stopping in the direction of the living room.

Squeak—creak.

He opened the refrigerator, Liang Xingyuan thought silently.

Yesterday, he had brewed fresh floral fruit tea for Chu Junshan. He liked the flavor, so every few days he brewed some and chilled it.

Tick, tick-tock—

He walked to the French window on the balcony and sat down on the tatami mat.

Chu Junshan was likely working or checking today’s news in the newspaper.

Liang Xingyuan knew prying into his every move like this had already crossed into perversion, but an invisible force glued his attention to Chu Junshan, and he couldn’t shift away in the slightest.

He painfully realized he was like a wizard turned into a spider, occupying the space above this house, with the cobwebs he spun spread everywhere.

His non-stop prying filled him with self-loathing, as he thought softly—

Are you there?

No, he isn’t.

What are you thinking about?

Do you still want to… be with me?

At 7:20 in the morning, the alarm clock placed on the nightstand beside him finally rang on schedule, ending this long, nightmare-like night.

Liang Xingyuan’s complex emotions from a moment ago seemed as though they had never existed. He opened his eyes, once again resembling that gentle, respectable teacher from before.

Those black eyes carried a realistic drowsiness, as if he had slept very poorly. Two faint dark circles hung beneath his eyes, appearing especially prominent on his pale skin.

In his current appearance, except for Chu Junshan, no acquainted person would connect him with yesterday’s frantic monster.

A new day had begun, and Liang Xingyuan changed back into a tiny, ordinary human.

He listened intently to the faint sounds outside to judge what Chu Junshan was doing, while his body faithfully carried out its regular habits and started his day as a human.

Liang Xingyuan, don’t be nervous. Don’t be nervous. Stay calm.

He admonished himself in his heart, hoping it would soothe his racing heartbeat.

However… this tactic seemed to have no effect.

Liang Xingyuan felt that the heart belonging to his monster true self seemed to have received some distinct stimulation, “thumping, thumping” away, as though in the next second, when he wasn’t paying attention, it would burst out of his throat and display all its red insides and affection for Chu Junshan to see.

No, this won’t do.

Liang Xingyuan pulled back his extended leg, trapping himself inside the room, striving to tell himself.

Stop beating for a moment. You aren’t nervous. You aren’t nervous.

If you don’t go out any later, Chu Junshan won’t want you anymore.

This bizarre brainwashing surprisingly achieved a crucial, miraculous effect at such a tense moment. Liang Xingyuan breathed deeply, steadying his racing heart.

Three minutes later, he put on his slippers and hesitantly walked out of the bedroom, his gaze unconsciously sweeping the living room, which had grown somewhat bare after a major battle and cleanup.

His heartbeat, which he had taken quite a while to soothe and slow down, began to thud frantically once again, as if a voice were telling him.

I want to see him.

The balcony? He wasn’t there. The hallway? Not there either.

Not in the kitchen, not in the bathroom, not in the bedroom…

His gaze darted around almost neurotically, then froze on a certain spot. His rapidly thumping heart missed a beat during the brief pause and settled heavily back into place.

In the garden outside the balcony, faint daylight illuminated Chu Junshan’s translucent profile. He stood sideways with his eyes slightly lowered. With the sleeves of his light-colored shirt half-rolled up, he held a pale yellow watering can.

A gentle breeze blew over, and the balcony rose, which had bloomed who-knows-when, swayed gently in the wind, its orange-yellow petals quivering and appearing exceptionally vivid against the water droplets.

Liang Xingyuan seemed to come alive. He opened his mouth but could not speak the words filling his heart, as if they were stuck in his throat.

But at that moment, Chu Junshan noticed him.

He turned around, their gazes meeting. His look was faint and light, making Liang Xingyuan feel as though he wasn’t looking at him—

That kind of look was like when he admired the balcony rose a moment ago, carrying a touch of gentle scrutiny.

Plain and calm, yet like welcome rain after a drought, extinguishing those scalding fires in his heart.

“You’re awake?” Chu Junshan’s voice was as calm and gentle as usual, making it impossible to hear what he was actually thinking, and equally impossible to fathom his attitude.

Liang Xingyuan’s heart skipped a beat, but he still managed to respond, though he felt stiff, looking less like the owner of this house and more like an unexpected visitor: “…Mm.”

“How did you rest last night?” Chu Junshan set down the watering can he was holding. He walked towards Liang Xingyuan and slowly stepped into the living room. “Doesn’t look too good.”

Liang Xingyuan: “!”

Almost in an instant, alarm bells blared in his heart, as if he had remembered something—

Could it be that Chu Junshan was going to abandon him for this reason!

Should he thank Chu Junshan for not kicking him out just because his left eye opened a second faster than his right eye today?!

Regardless, he was definitely going to do so anyway!

Grief welled up within Liang Xingyuan, filling him with an immediate sense of sorrow. He forced himself to pull his spirits together. But anyone could tell at a glance that he was like a flower wilted by rain, unable to muster any energy whatsoever.

“It was okay. Why?”

“I don’t think it’s anything, personally.” Chu Junshan seemed not to notice the low mood that had suddenly surged over Liang Xingyuan. He walked to the tatami mat in front of the French window and sat down, an iPad in hand, looking as though he had resumed work.

Amid Liang Xingyuan’s anxious, downcast anticipation, his voice drifted over, unhurried and half a beat late: “It’s just, I feel like your two dark circles might not look good when taking ID photos.”

Liang Xingyuan: “?”

He froze for a moment, then immediately reacted—

!!!

What did Chu Junshan just say?!

Taking ID photos!

So, did he still plan to marry him?!

Liang Xingyuan’s heart, already sore and aching with sorrow, was suddenly struck by Chu Junshan’s words, sending soft ripples through it.

He… he looked like he still wanted him.

Chu Junshan… had not wanted to abandon him after all.

This should have made Liang Xingyuan happy, yet for some reason, he suddenly felt a wave of desolation.

He… was just a bizarre monster, needing his lover to give up so much for him and use all his strength to accommodate him, just so he could temporarily reside in a human body and identity, staying by his side.

Liang Xingyuan breathed deeply, suppressing his turbulent emotions. He stared intently at Chu Junshan’s face for a long time. The other man lowered his eyes, returning his attention to work and seriously reviewing the documents on the tablet.

Liang Xingyuan did not know how much time had passed before he barely summoned the courage and asked in a soft voice with an imperceptible tremble, “Junshan, can I take up a bit of your time?”

Chu Junshan paused, withdrawing his gaze from the iPad and looking up at Liang Xingyuan standing in front of him.

He gently raised an eyebrow, seemingly genuinely not expecting Liang Xingyuan to choose this moment to say something to him: “Hm?”

“Dark circles… are not important.”

Liang Xingyuan blinked gently. In an instant, the dark circles beneath his eyes vanished without a trace, while those pitch-black eyes began to shift in color, gleaming with a multicolored, polarized sheen like scales covering an insect’s hard wings.

“I am a monster. These things can all be changed at will.”

Chu Junshan could hear a faint, hard-to-detect trace of worry in his voice, as though he wanted whoever heard it to sense a natural, unforced tone. But he overlooked the fact that Chu Junshan could see right through his heart.

He clearly harbored a touch of panic for reasons unknown, yet still forced himself to maintain composure in front of him, like a child insistently wearing adult clothes, propping up everything through sheer force of will: “I’m worried that you won’t be able to accept me.”

Once he said these words, Liang Xingyuan suddenly felt his breathing grow smoother. The rest of his words could finally be poured out all at once without any obstacle: “Perhaps you feel you can accept me out of novelty, or perhaps… because you love me enough. But your feeling that you can accept me might just be because you temporarily don’t know what kind of monster I actually am.”

“Do you remember those golden eyes you saw when you first pushed open the door last night? I can possess that form, too.” Liang Xingyuan’s voice was still steady, yet it carried a rare trace of hoarseness, as if he were cutting open his own most dishonorable wound and displaying it openly and uprightly for Chu Junshan to see.

“No human would ever like what I originally look like. I don’t want to hold you back, Junshan… even though I really like you, and am willing to give you all my true heart…”

He stared into Chu Junshan’s light-colored eyes, as though a blade had appeared out of thin air inside his chest, slowly and without any possibility of stopping, carving away at his heart piece by piece.

Liang Xingyuan’s trembling voice was extremely soft, like whispered sweet nothings lingering between lovers at night: “…But no one would accept a true heart from a monster.”

Chu Junshan fell silent for a long moment. Just as the apprehensive Liang Xingyuan prepared to say something else to ease the atmosphere, he suddenly spoke, cutting off those words before they could be uttered.

“I have only one question. Staying by my side, will you get me killed?”

As soon as those words left Chu Junshan’s mouth, Liang Xingyuan regretted them.

He suddenly felt he shouldn’t ask for so much. Since he had already earned the right to stay by Chu Junshan’s side, he shouldn’t expect the other person to understand everything about him.

He had imagined countless answers Chu Junshan might give and expressions that might appear on his face, yet this one was the only possibility he had never imagined.

Hearing this, Liang Xingyuan froze for a moment and opened his mouth. Breath caught in his chest, impossible to swallow or exhale. The answer rolled around the tip of his tongue twice before he finally uttered the difficult words: “…I won’t.”

“Then that is fine.”

Chu Junshan withdrew his gaze from his face and returned it nonchalantly to the iPad, the document still open.

As if what he had just heard wasn’t a shocking confession from a monster, but an everyday remark like, ‘What are we eating for lunch today?’: “Go wash up quickly. We’re leaving at eight-thirty.”

Liang Xingyuan’s heart had long since melted into a puddle. He opened his mouth as a strange impulse suddenly surged up in his heart—

Why not just tell him everything?

Besides being a monster… he had another secret.

In another world, he was the king among monsters, the lord who led them.

His hands had once been covered in filth and blood. He had once stood in the darkness seeking life in the face of death. He had also once met a person who, like Chu Junshan, represented light and hope…

A tangle of complex memories broke through the shackles he had set in an instant, scenes of bloody darkness floating softly before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

He suddenly had a malicious impulse, wanting to probe just how far Chu Junshan’s tolerance for him could go…

His brain, manipulated by malice, fell into a daze. He opened his mouth. Just as those filthy past events were about to spill out, a neither-too-loud-nor-too-soft car horn suddenly sounded outside—

“Hey, hey, hey, what on earth are you two doing? Not even answering the phone…”

The familiar voice came through the window. Liang Xingyuan turned his head to see Jiang Chun’s face in the rolled-down car window.

He wore a festive, tender-pink shirt and smiled brightly: “Hey, hurry up and open the door.”

These words snapped Liang Xingyuan out of his daze. He lowered his eyes as if waking, his constricted pupils small as needlepoints, gradually dilating and slowly returning to normal.

Chu Junshan was the first to react, rising from the tatami mat and walking to the door to open it for him.

They had agreed long beforehand that on the day they registered their marriage, Jiang Chun would come to their place first.

After all, in Jiang Chun’s critical eyes, it was fine for these two to usually be as plain as chrysanthemums. But if they dared to dress plainer than plain boiled water on their wedding day, that would truly be an absolute sin.

After giving it some thought, he decisively resolved to escort and guide them.

Chu Junshan opened the door, and the “Happy Marriage” Jiang Chun was about to say ground to a halt the moment his gaze fell on the living room furnishings.

In that instant, his gaze—unusually bright a second ago—turned abruptly somber, their eyes meeting briefly before they pulled apart.

Jiang Chun took a deep breath, adjusted his expression back to normal, and looked as though he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Standing in the entryway, he looked at Chu Junshan, who wore a calm expression, and then at Liang Xingyuan standing by the French window, lost in thought. He silently closed his mouth.

“We can leave after changing clothes.” Amidst the eerie silence, Chu Junshan spoke first, finally breaking this unspeakable quiet: “Come inside and sit down first.”

Jiang Chun bit his lower lip, his gaze chasing Chu Junshan’s placid, unruffled eyes, as if wanting to discern some unusual emotion from within them.

But, as always, he failed.

Chu Junshan’s face was completely calm, looking as though nothing had happened.

Yet his own heart was exceedingly heavy—

Beneath this placid, unruffled surface, an invisible storm seemed to be brewing, one that would sweep them—and even the entire world—into it.

Did Chu Junshan… know about these things?

Worried, Jiang Chun waited for the two who had gone inside to change, his mind heavy with thought.

A few minutes later, Chu Junshan and Liang Xingyuan came out separately. Both wore formal black suits, their figures tall and slender. Though their styles weren’t identical, they looked extremely well matched.

Jiang Chun let out a deep sigh. He glanced at them and withdrew his gaze with another sigh: “Let’s go, lest we have to queue up in a bit.”

What he did not know was that, like him, the other two each harbored their own hidden motives as they got into the same car and drove toward the Civil Affairs Bureau closest to their home.

The day Chu Junshan chose was not a special holiday, nor was it a weekend. Few people came here to register their marriage, with only two couples queuing in front of them.

Everyone’s face brimmed with a happy smile as they stood in front of the backdrop wall at the staff’s instruction, smiling softly and letting the camera freeze-frame one of the most meaningful moments of their lives.

By the time it was their turn, twenty minutes had already passed.

The photographer behind the camera wore a deep smile, looking kind and very approachable. Closing one eye, he looked out from the screen and instructed: “The newcomer on the left, give us a smile, will you? Why aren’t you smiling on such a wonderful day? Is there something sad?”

Chu Junshan, having been called out, paused for a rare moment. He raised his eyebrows slightly, then reverted to his original expression: “No.”

“Hm?!” The photographer was a person full of witty jokes. When he smiled, he revealed two neat rows of teeth. Counting them, it was probably even a standard eight-tooth smile. “Could it be that you are naturally not one to smile?”

Chu Junshan: “…”

What a cold joke.

Liang Xingyuan also fell silent for a moment, then smoothed things over with great skill: “Of course he’s happy. It’s fine. He looks great either way.”

Chu Junshan glanced at him, surprised. Perhaps, infected by the bright smile beaming on Liang Xingyuan’s face at this moment, the corners of his eyes curled up unconsciously, finally revealing a trace of a smile.

Click—

Time froze in that instant, leaving behind a photograph that captured that moment.

“Ah, so good-looking.” The photographer looked at the finished photo, utterly delighted. “Good, good, good. Go get your certificates printed. Wishing you a happy marriage.”

“Thank you.”

This time, Chu Junshan and Liang Xingyuan answered in unison.

With the photos ready, the rest of the process went smoothly.

Liang Xingyuan almost used both hands to take the red booklet, opening the pages and scanning each line of text with focused eyes, as if he wanted to engrave this marriage certificate on his heart.

If this weren’t a public place where shedding tears could be embarrassing, Chu Junshan truly believed this easily moved, sentimental monster would burst into tears the very next second.

Putting away the marriage certificates, Liang Xingyuan walked outside with him.

The corridor was spacious and clean, with only an occasional passerby hurrying past.

“Junshan.” Even though he had imagined this scene many times over, when the time came to actually put it into practice, Liang Xingyuan felt immensely nervous all over again. He pulled a tiny red velvet ring box from his pocket, carefully opened the lid, and turned the side with the wedding ring toward Chu Junshan, who looked surprised. He felt so nervous he could barely speak.

He had thought of so many cheesy love words. But when this exact moment arrived, Liang Xingyuan could recall only the single sentence he wanted to say most.

He looked into Chu Junshan’s eyes and said with absolute sincerity: “Thank you for being willing to spend the rest of your life with me. Are you willing… to be with me forever?”

Chu Junshan remained silent, lowering his eyes to look at the tall, handsome man half-kneeling on the ground.

As their eyes met, passersby occasionally cast inquiring glances their way, yet he seemed not to notice in the slightest, his gaze fixed on Liang Xingyuan without shifting in the least.

The time spent waiting for his answer even gave Liang Xingyuan the illusion that tens of thousands of years had passed.

Finally, he heard a soft chuckle from above: “I do.”

These words were light as a feather, yet suddenly struck his heart.

In an instant, all those struggles and painful thoughts no longer mattered—

Right now, he only wanted to be with Chu Junshan.

Chu Junshan did not object to his approach, letting him pull him into an embrace.

He heard Liang Xingyuan’s trembling voice, as if uttering a promise, or an oath that would not change even in a thousand years: “I will protect you with my life forever…”

Chu Junshan lowered his eyes, looking at the hand that had slipped the ring onto him, which was trembling softly in the air.

He knew what Liang Xingyuan wanted to give him was no ordinary promise.

For a monster, they would never make a promise lightly.

The last time he had seen a monster make a promise to him was still on a day long ago, back when he was still in that other dark world.

Chu Junshan kept his eyes slightly lowered, his long, thick eyelashes fluttering softly with the rise and fall of his breath, drooping slightly to conceal the churning, complex emotions in the depths of his eyes.

He did not speak, staying quiet as he waited for Liang Xingyuan to finally let go of his hand. His chest rose and fell slightly. When he looked up again, those eyes held a thin mist of moisture, like an overcast day where the rain had yet to clear.

“We can go home now,” Chu Junshan said, reminding him, “In a bit, we still need to make a trip over to Mom and Dad’s place.”

Getting married was a major event after all. Although times were different now, and Chu Junshan’s life was completely in his own hands, out of respect and the etiquette of human society, they should still pay a visit home.

Liang Xingyuan had known about this process long ago, so naturally he had no objections.

He glanced hesitatingly at Chu Junshan, only to gaze into those eyes, placid and unruffled. Inside them seemed to lie the deepest sea in the world, with neither wind nor waves, reflecting his entire image.

Though he didn’t utter a word, Liang Xingyuan inexplicably read an emotion in that look that brought him peace of mind.

Being with Chu Junshan, apart from those brief impulses of losing control, Liang Xingyuan mostly felt a grounded calm and composure.

As if, as long as Chu Junshan was around, he could truly become a real human, without showing any of the bad habits of monsters.

He… was truly grateful to him.

Liang Xingyuan felt that he was far too sentimental today. Judging from Chu Junshan’s previous reactions to him, he should prefer how he used to be.

Now that those doubts had passed and he had obtained an affirmative answer from Chu Junshan as he wished, Liang Xingyuan reined in those little tempers, taking it upon himself to revert to his former self: “…Then I’ll go get the car first and wait for you at the entrance, okay?”

The “you” he spoke of naturally didn’t refer to Chu Junshan alone, but also to Jiang Chun, who was packing up his things and waiting for them in the outer hall.

He didn’t know if it was Liang Xingyuan’s illusion, but he always felt Jiang Chun didn’t seem quite as happy today as before.

He seemed to be harboring a very important worry behind their back, appearing shrouded in gloom and doom, just short of writing the two words “sorrow” on his face to invite others to probe into the reason.

He knitted his brows slightly and pondered deeply for a moment, then suddenly shook his head gently, shaking away those clouds of doubt.

Forget it.

In his current state, he probably shouldn’t probe what others were actually thinking.

Furthermore, Chu Junshan and Jiang Chun were clearly much closer than ordinary friends. Later, once they got to know each other better, on the day Chu Junshan was willing to tell him, he would likely learn all the answers he wanted.

Most of the time, adults didn’t need to be completely open with each other about everything.

For example, in fact, Liang Xingyuan himself also had a secret.

He thought that if given the opportunity, he would tell Chu Junshan.

But if he never needed to use that opportunity, that would be for the best.

……

That black figure slowly vanished from Chu Junshan’s field of vision. He lowered his eyes, his gaze landing on the ring on his ring finger, examining the simple yet elegantly designed plain band and the diamond set in an eight-prong setting, and only looked up after a long while.

Those emotional ripples that had surged just a moment ago because of Liang Xingyuan vanished without a trace, as if they had never appeared at all.

He did not head toward the outer hall as Liang Xingyuan had imagined. Instead, he turned around and strolled back to where they had just taken their ID photos.

Jiang Chun was waiting for him there.

From the first second he stepped into Liang Xingyuan’s home today, he knew Jiang Chun already knew everything.

If other humans in this world, like him and Jiang Chun, had emerged from that dark, harsh world like purgatory, then as long as they encountered anything related to the Infinite Game, they would uncontrollably recall those familiar scenes.

Dark corridors, glowing eyes flashing in the night grass, violent, clamorous noises… and the foul, rotting odor unique to monsters.

These were like keywords, or keys that unlocked the door to those painful memories, guiding them back into the nightmares they were unwilling to recall.

This was the shared gene that the experience had implanted within them.

Chu Junshan did not mind recalling this past, but that did not mean Jiang Chun wouldn’t mind, either—

He walked over to the spot where Jiang Chun had been resting a moment ago and looked up. A slender, frail figure stood by the window. Even though he didn’t raise his head, making it impossible to see the expression on his face, just looking at him from afar made one aware of the dense pain and struggle emanating from him.

Chu Junshan’s tone was the same as usual, without much cadence. His mood was equally flat, yet he didn’t call out the name “Jiang Chun” as he usually did. Instead, he softly said, “Chunchun.”

It was nearing lunchtime now. Hardly anyone was queuing to register their marriage anymore.

The surrounding environment was remarkably quiet. Chu Junshan could even hear his own echo.

Jiang Chun turned his head. As his gaze touched Chu Junshan’s aloof, beautiful face, it carried an indescribable complexity: “Chu Junshan, you’ve known all along, haven’t you?”

Though framed as a question, his voice held no tone of inquiry. Instead, it sounded like a flat statement—one that didn’t even require Chu Junshan to answer with a “yes” or “no”.

“Yes.” Chu Junshan walked over to his side without looking at Jiang Chun. Imitating Jiang Chun’s earlier posture, he gazed out at the scenery through the bright glass windowpane. “What is it you want to ask?”

The tacit understanding built over years of companionship had led them both to remain silent in front of Liang Xingyuan, yet the reasons behind it were not the same.

“I’d rather know what you’re actually thinking, Junshan.” Jiang Chun shook his head, his usually somewhat lax and frivolous expression completely folding away at this moment, leaving no trace of his former self. It was replaced entirely by earnestness and gravity: “Those things have appeared in this world again, haven’t they? I was too dense to realize it only now, after the fact… If I hadn’t noticed they’d already invaded your life—Chu Junshan, tell me. When were you planning to tell me? When you’ve turned into a pile of bone dregs?”

His voice was lowered, his speech rapid, as if suppressing some invisible fury: “The thing you promised me, why didn’t you do it? Is it because of Liang Xingyuan—”

A barrage of interrogations shot out like cannonballs. Chu Junshan shifted his gaze. Before he could answer, a black figure appeared in the corner of his eye.

Liang Xingyuan, who had returned without them knowing when, held three cups of drinks and looked somewhat awkwardly at the two of them, locked in a confrontational stance.

Silence spread through the studio where a pin drop could be heard, carrying a terrifying whiff of gunpowder.

After a long moment, Liang Xingyuan barely managed to pull up the corners of his mouth with difficulty, forcing himself to look at the two of them: “Were you two… talking about me just now?”

---

If you enjoy my works and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on Ko-fi. Thank you for your support.