Chapter 16

When Ning Qiuyan finished the last piece of the mammoth puzzle, Guan Heng entered the empty room, followed by Lu Qianque, who had just finished his conversation with him.

Ning Qiuyan sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a small puzzle piece in his hand, his eyes still red.

The puzzle was truly helpful; it took him some time to calm his emotions, but seeing the two of them again made him uneasy, waves of embarrassment washing over him.

“I’m leaving,” Lu Qianque had come specifically to say goodbye to Ning Qiuyan. “Thank you for today.”

Ning Qiuyan felt he hadn’t really done much, just played an accompaniment.

He replied to Lu Qianque, “You’re welcome,” then asked, “Are you really leaving so late?”

Lu Qianque had arrived at night, and after an episode and more than two hours of conversation with Guan Heng, it was now approaching midnight.

Lu Qianque said, “No, now is just right. If I stay any longer, it’ll be too late. So, goodbye, Xiao…” He stopped himself in time and, adapting, called Ning Qiuyan by his name. “Goodbye, Ning Qiuyan.”

Lu Qianque always liked to joke, but he was also always very polite.

It had taken Ning Qiuyan quite some effort to connect him with the businesslike person from their email exchanges, but he still said goodbye.

Lu Qianque nodded to Guan Heng and left.

Once he was gone, only Guan Heng and Ning Qiuyan remained in the room.

For some reason, Ning Qiuyan felt even more embarrassed facing Guan Heng alone than he had when both witnesses to his mishap were present.

Earlier, when he was playing guitar, Guan Heng had asked to hear a piece he’d written himself.

It sounded like a perfectly ordinary request, and Ning Qiuyan hadn’t thought to refuse. He picked up the guitar again, but when he reached the second interlude, tears suddenly fell.

His fingertips kept trembling, and the emotions came quickly.

Ning Qiuyan couldn’t control himself, nor did he look at anyone’s expression. He kept his head down, finished the entire piece, and was then called by Guan Heng into the puzzle room.

As soon as he finished playing, Guan Heng had said, “Go wait for me in the next room.”

Looking back now, Ning Qiuyan realized Guan Heng had wanted him to quickly go somewhere alone to calm down, sparing him further embarrassment.

“That piece was beautiful.”

He heard Guan Heng say.

“I really liked it.”

Guan Heng stepped closer, and Ning Qiuyan could see the hem of his coat. “Thank you.”

He picked up another puzzle piece, but for a moment couldn’t find a suitable place for it.

“Here.” Guan Heng squatted down, took the piece from his hand, and fit it into an obvious spot. “Why were you crying?”

Ning Qiuyan was silent for a moment.

Guan Heng asked, “Did you feel I forced you?”

Guan Heng was referring to having asked him to play guitar earlier.

Ning Qiuyan hadn’t thought that way, but now that Guan Heng mentioned it, he realized the scene did resemble him being forced to do something he didn’t want to do. Strangely, though, he hadn’t resisted; in fact, he shamefully liked that sense of being constrained.

Of course, he wouldn’t tell Guan Heng that. Instead, he asked, “Would you laugh at me if I told you?”

Guan Heng seemed to have endless patience, asking calmly, “Laugh at what?”

Reluctantly, Ning Qiuyan admitted, “I’m such a grown-up, but I still miss my mom.”

Guan Heng was silent for a while, and when he spoke again, his words surprised Ning Qiuyan: “I can barely remember what my mother looked like anymore.”

Ning Qiuyan looked up, forgetting his embarrassment. “You haven’t seen her in a long time?”

“A very long time,” Guan Heng said. “She died young, at just twenty-two. Only a little older than you are now.”

Guan Heng’s mother had passed away too?

Ning Qiuyan thought that Guan Heng’s mother must have been a beauty. Then he wondered, getting married and having children so young-the Guan Family was perhaps different from what he’d imagined.

Guan Heng didn’t seem inclined to continue, nor did he offer the kind of comfort Ning Qiuyan didn’t want to hear. Some pain doesn’t need to be resolved; at least, he’d understood that since adulthood. People are willing to let it linger in their hearts.

“I did a lot of things wrong,” Ning Qiuyan said softly. “The doctor said if we’d started treatment earlier, there was a good chance she could have been cured. We went too late.”

After a while, he added, “She thought this song was beautiful too, and said she’d write lyrics for me.”
Guan Heng: “So you gave up on your original pursuit.”

Ning Qiuyan guessed that Lu Qianque must have looked into his background and told Guan Heng about it. For him to come to Du Island, it couldn’t have been a rash decision-at the very least, it must have gone through several rounds of scrutiny.

That’s why Lu Qianque said he was naïve.

They pieced together a few more puzzle pieces before Guan Heng told him to go to bed.

Guan Heng said, “Don’t do any more tonight.”

For once, Ning Qiuyan didn’t obey. He sat there with his head down, the lines of his youthful shoulders slender: “I want to sit quietly a little longer.”

A hand reached out in front of him.

Just like when they got out of the car earlier that night, Guan Heng gestured for him to place his hand in his palm.

“No more puzzles,” Guan Heng said, leaving no room for argument. “Come with me.”

Ning Qiuyan hesitated, but placed his hand on Guan Heng’s, and was pulled to his feet.

This time, Guan Heng didn’t let go right away. Ning Qiuyan quickly felt Guan Heng’s body temperature-just as he’d imagined, it was cool, seemingly much lower than that of ordinary people.

But almost the moment Guan Heng grasped his hand, Ning Qiuyan forgot how to think.

The fact that Guan Heng was holding his hand made his heart race wildly, his whole body felt like it was burning up. Whenever he was with Guan Heng, his body refused to obey him, always reacting in these strange, uncontrollable ways.

Guan Heng was much taller than him. Led by the hand into the corridor, Ning Qiuyan could only gaze, unable to restrain himself, at Guan Heng’s profile and back.

Just moments ago, all his sadness had vanished. His mind was filled with only one thought: Could Guan Heng hear the frantic beating of his heart?

They stopped in front of a black room.

Guan Heng pushed open the door and led Ning Qiuyan inside.

The lights came on.

Ning Qiuyan stood at the doorway and saw countless mirrors.

The walls, the floor, the ceiling-every surface in the room was covered with innumerable mirrors, cold and bright as a kaleidoscope, reflecting endless images of himself and Guan Heng.

He was gently nudged forward a few steps, and, caught off guard, met Guan Heng’s gaze in the mirror.

Guan Heng stood behind him, his lips just beside Ning Qiuyan’s ear, his expression as usual-distant and unattainable.

Compared to Ning Qiuyan’s fairly pale skin, Guan Heng almost didn’t look human. When he withdrew his gaze from the mirror and lowered his eyes to look at Ning Qiuyan in front of him, the sense of distance was even more pronounced.

“Where is this?”

The tips of Ning Qiuyan’s ears were so red they seemed to bleed, as if he’d entered some strange realm.

Guan Heng told him, “Meditation Room.”

With every movement they made, countless reflections in the mirrors moved as well.

Ning Qiuyan saw their profiles, their backs, saw Guan Heng’s fingers hanging at his side, and, from a certain angle, saw himself as if leaning into Guan Heng’s embrace.

“This helps me think,” Guan Heng said, looking at the mirror in front of him again. “It might help you too. The puzzles help you calm down; here, you can get to know yourself again.”

“Get to know myself again,” Ning Qiuyan repeated dumbly, staring at the childish person in the mirror.

“Want to try?” Guan Heng didn’t force him.

“…”

Guan Heng made the decision for him: “Half an hour.”

Sensing that Guan Heng was about to leave, Ning Qiuyan turned around nervously.

He didn’t think this place would help him.

“Give it a try,” Guan Heng stepped back a few paces, assigning the task. “There’s a button at your feet. If you don’t want to stay, press it and I’ll come in to keep you company.”

Ning Qiuyan stood there.

Guan Heng closed the door for him; the back of the door was also a mirror.

Once it shut, Guan Heng vanished from all the reflections.

*

In the mirror, Ning Qiuyan’s eyes were lost and hollow.

He looked like a doll with only an outer shell, the inside all ruined stuffing.

Through the mirrors, another pair of eyes was watching him.

Watching this ignorant human take off his sweater, watching his belly rise and fall with nervous breaths, watching his hesitation as he removed his pants and shoes and socks, and most importantly, watching how he tried to reacquaint himself, vainly searching for a new sense of self.

The owner of those eyes guided him, dug into him.

He knew nothing, nakedly scrutinizing himself in the mirror, but the mirror reflected something else entirely.
Another tall body embraced him from behind, slamming him against the mirror, pinning his hands down with their fingers tightly interlaced. The person’s long, disheveled hair spilled over broad back muscles, a latent sense of power ready to erupt.

A savage contest.

With each breath, his exhalation misted the cold surface of the mirror.

As his finger traced a mark through the fog, the scene in the mirror became clear again-Guan Heng nuzzling his neck, exposing a pair of snowy white fangs, then biting down hard.

“Pft.”

Dark red blood splattered across the mirror.

Ning Qiuyan’s eyes flew open; he shot upright like a spring, sharply sucking in a breath.

He got out of bed, not even bothering to put on shoes, and rushed straight to the bathroom.

Within two seconds, he had torn off his pajamas and was checking his neck in the mirror.

The bathroom was decorated with retro floral tiles, and the small window was round.

Sunlight shone through the little window, falling across the mirror and illuminating half of Ning Qiuyan’s face and his bare neck.

It was a rare sunny day in winter.

His neck was perfectly clean-no gruesome wounds, no two small red dots like last time, nothing at all.

It was only a nightmare.

Memories of the previous night surged back.

Ning Qiuyan had stayed for a while in the Meditation Room. After pressing the button, the door opened, but Guan Heng was not waiting outside, nor did he come to ask the results of his thoughts.

A Servant was waiting at the door, informing him that Sir had suddenly joined a conference call, and had given special instructions for Ning Qiuyan to return directly to his room afterward.

“Go to bed early.”

-Ning Qiuyan could easily imagine what Guan Heng looked like saying this.

On the way, he asked the Servant whether Guan Heng often worked late into the night. He thought perhaps that was why Guan Heng always slept during the day.

But the Servant replied, “I’m not really sure. Other than Uncle Kang and Lu Qianque, Sir generally doesn’t let anyone onto the third floor.”

Now, Ning Qiuyan had also become someone allowed near the third floor.

As a newcomer from across the sea, he had undoubtedly become someone special.

In some sense, every night he spent on Du Island felt like dreaming.

A dreamy, blissful dream.

After breakfast, Ning Qiuyan went to the puzzle room.

Guan Heng never appeared during the day-he was used to this fact by now. Although he didn’t see him, knowing they were in the same building, on the same floor, even if he couldn’t see or sense Guan Heng, Ning Qiuyan still knew he was nearby.

He didn’t spend the whole day working on puzzles; he also sat in a corner with headphones on playing games, and made time to chat with Su Jianzhou online.

He wondered whether those who once secretly photographed Guan Heng and posted his pictures online, had felt the same as he did-that everything here was so unbelievable.

Most people in this world knew nothing of this place, nor of Guan Heng.

Ning Qiuyan selfishly felt glad for that.

Time became difficult to endure.

The longer the day, the more Ning Qiuyan longed for nightfall.

What would Guan Heng say to him tonight? Ning Qiuyan guessed: maybe they would work on puzzles, maybe just talk, perhaps Guan Heng would ask about his thoughts in the Meditation Room, or maybe there would be other plans.

He felt a faint excitement.

But when night arrived, all Ning Qiuyan received was an ice cream.

He still did not see Guan Heng.

Uncle Kang said that Lu Qianque had brought some work-related news yesterday, which turned out to be much trickier than expected, so Guan Heng would be very busy for the next few days.

“Alright,” said Ning Qiuyan, “I’ll be leaving tomorrow. Please help me say goodbye to him.”

“You’ll see each other again next month,” Uncle Kang replied. “Child.”

Ning Qiuyan wasn’t sure if Uncle Kang had misunderstood something, and lowered his head to finish the ice cream.

He wrote a note and left it in the puzzle room: Please do not move this-I want to finish it myself.

The next morning, Monday.

Ning Qiuyan sat in the car sent by Uncle Kang, who personally saw him off onto Uncle Ping’s boat.

The sea was calm.

Ning Qiuyan had been sleepless the night before.