Chapter 110

Chapter 110

Ning Qiuyan did not notice when Lu Qianque left.

He only vaguely heard Lu Qianque ask, with something like a sigh, “I heard him mention this a long time ago. Don’t bring something like this in front of him again.” Then, as if comforting a small animal, he patted Ning Qiuyan on the head, leaving behind a trace of coolness.

The house was very quiet. After the weather warmed up, the fireplace had stopped being used. It had not rained in Sujing lately, but in a daze, Ning Qiuyan still seemed to hear rain-the sound of thin threads of rain striking the windows.

Louder and louder.

A violent storm.

He knelt on the floor for a long time before he realized it was the lonely echo of waves crashing against the beach beneath the cliffs on the far side of Du Island.

“Why is there nothing here?”

“Because of the wind.”

No trees, no living things. Only wind and sea.

But it was not soundless.

Agony had crossed a thousand years, pouring into the cracks in the ground, beneath the rocks, into the caves.

It seeped into every opening.

The body had already been weathered and petrified by the wind, yet the pain could still pierce through the heart that remained soft, stabbing out an enormous hole. It lingered all around, never dispersing.

They had stood atop the cliff, hand in hand, walking away from the shore, but Guan Heng had been leading him, step by step, toward the depths of his own heart.

He had asked, “Can we go see that cave?”

Guan Heng had said, “Next time.”

Scene after scene replayed in his mind.

Ning Qiuyan stood up. Tears dripped onto the floor as he stumbled into the storage room with the wooden box in his arms.

Some paints and canvases he had prepared for Guan Heng were stacked here, still unopened. The box of things Rong Qi had given him last time was here too. He moved the ladder aside, found the very top compartment of the storage room, and pushed the wooden box inside.

He had no right to throw away that heavy past on Guan Heng’s behalf, but he also could not bear to let it appear before Guan Heng again.

Yet his legs were still weak. He could not even leave the storage room at once. Instead, without warning, he collapsed among the messy pile of things.

“It has been too long. I can’t stay awake all the time.”

The words Guan Heng had once said seemed to whisper beside his ear.

Back then, they had just ended the blood donation agreement, and Ning Qiuyan was about to leave Du Island.

Back then, Ning Qiuyan had not understood the deeper meaning behind those words. He had only been heartbroken over their coming separation and the crush that would end without ever beginning.

Now he understood.

Deprived of the right to die, Guan Heng had no choice but to sleep.

Amid eternal, endless torment, only by finding a brief interval in which to breathe could he wake again and endure pain carved into the bone.

Because that wind had never left.

It existed in every waking moment. It existed before the next sleep came.

It could not be carried away by death, so it was always there, at every moment.

And yet Guan Heng, who had finally found a perfect place to rest, had still chosen to stay awake after being forced to wake and deal with a crisis.

It had begun with the first time he left the island for Ning Qiuyan.

Guan Heng had never intended to show himself. Once he confirmed Ning Qiuyan was safe, he meant to leave. But Ning Qiuyan discovered him and ran toward him. He sat quietly in the car, looking at Ning Qiuyan’s reddened, tear-wet eyes and the bruises mottling his face.

Ning Qiuyan had no way of knowing what had changed in Guan Heng’s heart at that moment, but he knew Guan Heng had been moved-because of him.

Guan Heng no longer slept. He crossed the vast sea and once more stepped into the world.

“Immortality is a curse.”

If it were merely affection like one had for a pet, Guan Heng could have carried out Ning Qiuyan’s turning long ago and kept him by his side forever.

But love would not do that.

Guan Heng could not stay awake forever.

Compared with immortality, any happiness or joy was far too brief. Only pain would be magnified, then spread without end.

By then, Ning Qiuyan would not only become a Monster who had been stripped of human sensation and survived on blood; his life would also be filled with the same endless waiting and loneliness.

A human life lasted only a few short decades. Guan Heng gave Ning Qiuyan tolerance, indulgence, and guidance, leading him with an invisible hand toward a rhythm suited to them both.

Even this time was no different. The stubborn human had limited experience, shallow ideas, and acted rashly and willfully, but Guan Heng had silently arranged everything, weaving a dense net out of his own concessions and granting the human an almost unimaginable amount of indulgence.

Because he wanted Ning Qiuyan to be happy and joyful in this life, bright and vividly alive.

Ning Qiuyan could not breathe. His heart ached as if it had been twisted into a knot. He had to press a hand to his chest, pressing through flesh and blood against his contracting heart, and open his mouth wide before he could draw breath.

The sound of wind drifted slowly past.

At last, he had turned to the final page of the mystery.

Only then did he realize that he had never truly understood Guan Heng at all.
—
Night had fallen deep. The street scenes and pedestrians around him were all blurred shadows.

Ning Qiuyan walked down the street. Only after he had gone a long way did he realize he was on foot; he had forgotten to ride his bike.

He had not told Guan Heng he was coming, because Lu Qianque had said, “Why not just go straight there?”

But when he arrived downstairs at the hotel, he hesitated again. He stared blankly up at the upper floors, trying to tell which point of light was the room Guan Heng was staying in, and what Guan Heng was doing inside.

Only when his legs had gone numb from standing did he put both hands into the pocket of his hoodie, tuck his neck in a little, and walk through the revolving door.

The moment he entered the lobby, a young woman came over and handed him a card. “Mr. Lu said you would come. This is Mr. Guan’s room card.”
The woman was dressed in a hotel uniform, warm and courteous.

Ning Qiuyan took the room card. He couldn’t remember what he said in response, and by the time his thoughts returned to him, the elevator numbers were already glowing before his eyes.

Guan Heng was still staying on that floor, in that room.

He seemed to have a particular fondness for it.

Ning Qiuyan walked down the long corridor and stood outside the door for a while before lifting the card and lightly tapping it against the sensor.

The door opened. Inside, only a table lamp was on.

The curtains had not been drawn. Through the vast floor-to-ceiling windows was the familiar night view, and the Sujing Tower standing between the hotel and the Black House.

With a click, the door closed automatically behind him.

The tall black silhouette seated by the window turned around. Against that brilliant, dazzling view, he seemed to radiate an extreme loneliness within the silence.

His deep eyes were calm. No one in this world understood what lay in his heart.

Ning Qiuyan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t immediately call out Guan Heng’s name.

Guan Heng said, “You were gone for an hour and a half.”

Guan Heng knew Ning Qiuyan’s every move like the back of his hand. From the moment Ning Qiuyan left the Black House, Guan Heng had known he would come here. Ning Qiuyan kicked off his shoes, leaving them in a messy heap on the floor, and walked toward Guan Heng in only his socks.

Walking like that made almost no sound, but Guan Heng heard him clearly.

Lu Qianque had said that Guan Heng’s eyesight had been partially damaged.

In the dim light of the table lamp, Guan Heng’s phoenix eyes lowered slightly, his gaze fixed intently on Ning Qiuyan’s face, his lashes casting shadows. He was frighteningly thin. His cheeks were sunken, and the black robe had become much too loose, draped slackly over his broad, upright frame.

His condition was improving. His vision had fully recovered, much better than it had been a few days ago.

Ning Qiuyan gave a nasal “Mm.”

His throat was tight, and he couldn’t speak. He simply took Guan Heng’s hand, brushed aside his sleeve, and examined the wounds on his body.

Guan Heng’s hand was very cold.

Something akin to life force, similar to that of a human, had been drained from his body, leaving his arm withered, blue veins protruding, carrying an uncomfortable chill.

His skin was even paler than before. Across its surface were marks of white or light gray-the bite wounds were healing. It was incredible. While this body seemed utterly devoid of life, it also possessed a powerful capacity for recovery that humans did not. No matter how severe the injury, after self-repair, it would be restored to its original state.

Unfortunately, affected by the toxins of several Vampire individuals, unless he consumed a large amount of warm human blood, the marks would still need some time before they disappeared completely.

Liquid dripped down. Ning Qiuyan wiped hard at his face and bit his lip, unwilling to cry in front of Guan Heng again.

But very quickly, he was pulled into Guan Heng’s arms, his face pressed against the side of Guan Heng’s neck.

“…There won’t be a scene like that again.” Guan Heng’s voice carried a dark edge. His long, slender fingers gently rubbed the back of the human’s head as he comforted him in a low, forceful tone. “Don’t think about it. Forget it.”

An elder Vampire had the ability to taste emotions.

In that mountain cabin filled with the stench of blood, Guan Heng had covered the wounds on Ning Qiuyan’s body with his own bite marks. While drawing in Ning Qiuyan’s sweet blood, he had also felt every one of Ning Qiuyan’s emotions as if they were his own.

He knew Ning Qiuyan was afraid, and he knew even more that Ning Qiuyan would be plagued by nightmares these next few days. That was why the first thing he did upon seeing him was offer comfort.

In the past, Ning Qiuyan had never thought about the deeper meaning behind Guan Heng’s actions. Now, he understood it all.

“Mm. I won’t think about it.” Ning Qiuyan finally spoke his first words of the night, his voice hoarse, and reached out to hug his lover back. “I’m sorry.”

The human’s warm body passed over its heat.

Real. Vivid.

Guan Heng closed his eyes. He knew why Ning Qiuyan was apologizing.

But he had been the one who let him go with his own hands. So after the matter was over, he would neither give Ning Qiuyan any so-called “punishment” nor lecture him for the willfulness he had shown midway.

Because the experience of growth could not be given by anyone else. After going through this, Ning Qiuyan would naturally gain something precious.

This was probably Guan Heng’s way of guiding him.

They embraced quietly like that, pressed against each other. Ning Qiuyan tightened his arms, wishing he could pierce through flesh and blood with his very heart and press it together with Guan Heng’s. It was as if he had been born to belong in this embrace. Whether cold or warm, human or Vampire, it was the direction his life was meant to take.

Neither of them mentioned the causes and consequences of this incident again.

Where Lu Qianque had been found, what was going on with the Blood Supervision Council, how Qin Weizhi had been dealt with, what Wagner’s stance was, exactly what kind of sacrifices Guan Heng had made…

None of that mattered. Guan Heng had no need to explain it in detail, and Ning Qiuyan did not need to understand.

The embrace lasted only a short while before Guan Heng pushed Ning Qiuyan slightly and said in a hoarse voice, “…Stay a little farther away from me first.”

Ning Qiuyan looked at him and saw a pair of snow-white fangs appear between his lips. Those dark pupils had already turned completely deep red.

Even for Guan Heng, instinct would gain the upper hand when he was weak.

And so Ning Qiuyan, heartsick, had no choice but to retreat.

Guan Heng remained silent.