chapter 47

Chapter 47

The day Ning Qiuyan left Du Island, the sea was calm and tranquil.

As the seasons changed, the ocean had shifted from the gray-blue of his first arrival to a deep azure.

Ning Qiuyan sat silently in the same spot he once occupied, watching Du Island recede behind him, gradually shrinking into a dark speck, and then disappearing from view altogether.

That day, Ning Qiuyan almost walked all the way back to Wutong-after disembarking and leaving the pier, he kept his head down, trudging along the coastal highway. When the bus passed by, he forgot to wave it down and watched helplessly as it drove away.

Pedestrians were rare on this road; cars only appeared occasionally, speeding past.

So Ning Qiuyan simply kept walking.

It wasn’t until dusk that he finally reached the Wutong bus terminal.

As soon as he sat down, his legs felt numb and sore, almost no longer his own. He chose a window seat in the last row, put on his headphones, and listened to music. This time, the headphones weren’t broken-they blocked out all the noise, granting him the peace he needed.

Just like that, he made it home safely.

At the beginning of the next month, with Su Jianzhou’s help, Ning Qiuyan attended a half-month nursing training course. Through an introduction, he began working as a full-time companion for a seriously ill old man in his sixties at the hospital. The old man’s children didn’t live in Wutong and couldn’t visit often, but they were generous with their support.

The Old Man was usually drowsy and asleep; Ning Qiuyan had to feed him every meal, wipe his body morning and night, give massages on schedule, and every other day, carry him out of bed, place him in a wheelchair, and push him to receive treatment.

None of this was difficult for a young man, and Ning Qiuyan did everything well.

A month later, the Old Man passed away, and Ning Qiuyan began caring for another patient-this one was irritable and petty, always looking for faults. Yet, he hadn’t expected this boy to be so patient and hardworking, never complaining, possessing a maturity far beyond his years. Over time, the patient’s attitude toward him improved greatly.

Life is always full of trials.

The past six months felt like a fantastical, thrilling, and beautiful dream, but people must eventually return to reality.

In July, Ning Qiuyan ran into Wu Jingye, who had brought her child to the hospital. It had been a long time since they’d met; his younger cousin looked up at him timidly and called out, “Brother, why are you here?”

Ning Qiuyan smiled at him, then nodded to Wu Jingye, “Aunt.”

Ning Qiuyan’s demeanor and his caregiver’s uniform made his situation clear. Wu Jingye immediately understood why he was there.

The summer was hot, and even in the air-conditioned hospital, sweat stained the boy’s back.

Wu Jingye felt as if an invisible hand was gripping her throat. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t say a word.

A few days later, Wu Jingye returned to the hospital to find Ning Qiuyan, bringing him an envelope.

“Ningning, I know school is starting soon.” Inside the envelope was a stack of cash. “This is a little something from your uncle and me. It’s not much, but maybe it’ll help with tuition or living expenses.”

Wu Jingye didn’t know that he wasn’t going to business school, nor that he’d been accepted to a music academy, or that the tuition had doubled. Still, her intentions were good.

She wasn’t a great person, but she didn’t want to owe her nephew too much.

Ning Qiuyan refused, “It’s okay, I can handle it myself.”

-Guan Heng had already taken care of it.

A few days after returning to Wutong, Ning Qiuyan received a sizable sum-not only enough for university tuition and living expenses, but enough to last him ten years after graduation.

The last transfer Ning Qiuyan made had already surprised Wu Jingye, and now, hearing his response, she couldn’t help but worry: “Where did you get the money? You didn’t do anything illegal, did you? I know I pushed you too hard before, that was my fault…”

“No,” Ning Qiuyan looked at her face, so similar to his mother’s, and felt a quiet calm inside. “If I had, I wouldn’t be working here as a caregiver.”

Over the past year, Ning Qiuyan seemed to have grown up all at once.

He was taller, thinner, and his personality had become colder.

Like a mature man, he bore the weight of life alone.

Seeing that he was determined not to accept the money and needed to fetch medicine for a patient, Wu Jingye had no choice but to let him go, watching as he hurried away.

Because of this, Ning Qiuyan inevitably fell once again into longing for Guan Heng.

The first month after returning to Wutong was the hardest.

Especially as the day to return to the island approached, seeing the Fridays on the calendar no longer circled in red, the pain would spread from deep within his heart, nearly tearing it apart, leaving him curled up and unable to breathe.

He often hallucinated the sound of a message notification on his phone, imagined Guan Heng calling his name in that emotionless voice, saw Guan Heng standing in the darkness in his robe, elbows resting on his knees, looking up at him. Sometimes, the skin on his neck would even throb with the sharp pain of being pierced by teeth.
Unrequited love is like an addictive poison. It had never truly begun, yet it left him suffering the agony of withdrawal.

If he couldn’t quit, then he would desensitize himself.

He allowed himself to yearn for Guan Heng, filling himself with everything about him. He studied Guan Heng’s gaze and gestures, read their messages over and over, and regretted not recording that video call.

He didn’t have a single photo of Guan Heng. Even of Du Island, he only had a landscape photo taken near the Lighthouse where Guan Heng had once painted a sunrise, but it revealed nothing of the location.

Occasionally, he would recall the day they parted, the way Guan Heng frowned slightly while speaking with Uncle Kang.

And so, he had a rather selfish thought. He hoped Guan Heng’s plans would run into a small problem, that the development of Du Island would be put back on the agenda. Then Guan Heng wouldn’t be able to leave so easily, and perhaps he would have another chance to return to the island.

But nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

Their agreement had already ended. For this, Lu Qianque had specifically sent a transfer at the end of May, along with a very brief message.

Lu23121873: [It was a pleasure working with you, Little Puppy. I wish you a happy life.]

Concise and clear, with boundaries well drawn.

After that, there was no further contact.

At the end of August, Ning Qiuyan finished his job as a caregiver. The picky patient couldn’t bear to see him go, holding onto him with tearful eyes and begging him to stay, but he had to prepare for the start of the new school year.

Before leaving Wutong for Sujing, Ning Qiuyan paused in his packing, seized by a sudden impulse.

He went downstairs, took a bus to the terminal, and then transferred to a coach.

The coach driver was no longer the warm-hearted uncle from before. When Ning Qiuyan said he wanted to get off at Du Island Pier, the driver simply nodded.

The weather was still hot. Walking through the woods, he could feel the stifling, salty, humid sea breeze. There had been many changes near the pier. The beach was dotted with camping tents, old boats covered in graffiti had been put back in the water, and young men and women in light clothing played and laughed on the sand.

As soon as Ning Qiuyan appeared, a man with tattooed arms walked over and asked, “Hey, where are you headed?”

The private pier belonging to Du Island had once again been taken over by illegal operators.

Ning Qiuyan had heard of such things before. He was simply curious why Guan Heng didn’t do anything about it.

The tattooed man thought he was hesitating and began listing prices, rattling off the names of several islands. The prices were indeed cheaper than the official boats.

Ning Qiuyan asked, “Do you go to Du Island?”

“Du Island… That’s a no-go,” the man replied. “It’s too far. Our speedboats can’t make the round trip, and there’s nothing fun there anyway-just deep forests and mountains. Not much point going alone.”

Ning Qiuyan hadn’t really intended to go to Du Island. He didn’t even know what he was feeling-he just asked on a whim.

He didn’t leave right away. Instead, he found a spot in the shade, sat on the ground, and stared out at the sea in a daze.

Everything had changed.

The tattooed man played cards with his friends for a while, then came over and offered Ning Qiuyan a cigarette. “Heartbroken?”

Ning Qiuyan looked up.

“Here, and here.” The man pointed behind his own ear and at his arm, referring to the heart tattoo behind Ning Qiuyan’s ear and the Latin script on his inner arm. “Girlfriend, right? There’ll be another one. Have a smoke, and take Brother Bao’s speedboat to Jiahua Island for a spin. I guarantee you’ll have a good time.”

Ning Qiuyan didn’t bother to correct the misunderstanding.

It was his first time smoking, and he choked on the first puff.

He finished the cigarette, but didn’t go to Jiahua Island.

In September, Ning Qiuyan packed his luggage and his dreams, and officially registered at Suojing Conservatory of Music.

*

The approval to cancel the development plan for Du Island was more troublesome than expected, with no decision for a long time. Guan Heng had to postpone his own plans because of it. Fortunately, it was just a matter of bureaucracy-his subordinates would handle it, and he didn’t need to intervene personally.

In October, everything was finally settled.

News spread that Du Island had successfully resisted the encroachment of capital and would be preserved. Several friends called to say they wanted to throw a celebration party.

Guan Heng didn’t care for noisy gatherings, but he didn’t mind reunions with old friends. Most of them hadn’t seen each other in decades. If life is long enough, then perhaps a reunion needs a reason.

That night, helicopters flew over the sea and landed on Du Island.

Uncle Kang arranged for the Servants to receive the guests, decorating the forest around the mansion with night lights, so that at a glance, it looked like a river of stars hanging upside down.

There were only seven or eight guests, from all over the world. They didn’t all look like movie stars-some were tall, some short, some old, some young-but all were elegant in speech and impeccably dressed, treating the gathering with great importance.

The party began at nine. They drank only blood, not wine, and simply shared stories of the changes and interesting events over the years. The atmosphere was nothing like a party as humans would imagine.
The servants went to the slaughterhouse at night, bringing back warm animal blood in insulated containers for the guests to enjoy.

But not everyone was like Guan Heng.

On either side of the long dining table, some guests raised their wine glasses to Guan Heng in greeting, tasting with ease, while others pulled close the people beside them, unabashedly biting into their wrists or necks.

The banquet proceeded in utter silence.

Only the soft moans of young men and women after teeth pierced veins could be heard.

They were all blood slaves brought by the guests themselves.

These humans were either traded for money or willingly devoted out of fascination for the other kind-none of it was forced.

This relationship would last until they were no longer young, until their blood was no longer delicious.

Drinking animal blood or keeping blood slaves were both choices freely made; no one judged others for differing views. As predators, such choices could be changed at any time.

At midnight, the conversation ended and the party shifted themes.

Among these people were merchants, scholars, and artists. To celebrate the successful defense of Du Island, they brought carefully selected or personally crafted gifts for Guan Heng.

They played music, danced, and wandered through the rooms on the mansion’s first floor, admiring or introducing the treasures they had given to Guan Heng.

In Guan Heng’s studio, a guest gazed at a portrait resting on the easel. After a moment’s scrutiny, he suddenly said, “I’ve seen him before.”

The painting depicted a young human boy with slightly almond-shaped eyes, dark pupils, and a faint downward tilt at the corners, giving him a loyal and innocent look. His face was handsome and slender, full of youthful naivety. With reddened eyes and a somewhat sorrowful expression, he appeared stubborn.

Guan Heng stood beside the guest, following his gaze to the painting, his expression calm.

The guest’s companion walked over and took his arm. “Where did you see him?”

“He was a student who took an exam at our conservatory.” The guest was a musician, obsessed for centuries, now teaching at Suojing Conservatory of Music. “He left quite an impression on me.”

The companion was more than just a simple blood slave; she matched the guest and could grant him the ability to walk freely in daylight.

He might stay in Sujing for her for a few years, but would leave eventually, so their relationship was rather casual.

“Quite an impression?” Guan Heng asked. “Why?”

“He was rather special-a kid with ideas,” the guest replied. “For the extra test, all candidates had to present a scene concept. Many prepared videos or written scripts, but he had nothing, just described the scene aloud. We were already satisfied with the new piece he performed at the interview, and the extra test was meant to challenge his adaptability. But the second piece he played was even more stunning.” Seeing Guan Heng’s interest, the guest paused and asked, “Why? Is he a child of the Guan Family?”

Guan Heng replied lightly, “No, just a boy I happened to meet.”

After a pause, he added, “He is indeed special.”

“Yes,” the guest continued, “Later, another teacher considered buying that piece from him. I still remember its name-‘Zhaozhao,’ meaning brightness or light. Strange, isn’t it?”

“Mm.” Guan Heng nodded. “It is strange.”

So it was the piece Guan Heng had heard before, and he himself had named it.

“He said he wrote it for someone he liked,” the guest said. “The scene he described was that person standing in the sunlight. He said he hoped that person could enjoy the sun and always shine-”

At this point, the guest seemed to realize something, and his voice abruptly stopped.

The three standing before the portrait fell silent together.

What it meant was already clear without words.

Guan Heng thought, as expected, he had guessed right.

Lu Qianque didn’t need to contact old friends on purpose; Ning Qiuyan could pass the exam on his own. After all, such an exam was not difficult for Ning Qiuyan.

Yet Guan Heng had never known that Ning Qiuyan’s piece was written for him.

The party ended before dawn.

As the guests departed one by one, the mansion, lively and vibrant through the night, became empty again.

In the third-floor bedroom, behind the double doors, blue-violet endless summer hydrangeas bloomed in clusters.

Careful tending had effectively prolonged their flowering season.

Guan Heng lowered his gaze, reaching out to gently touch the full flower head with his fingertip.

*

In November, Du Island welcomed its first snow.

Far away in Sujing, freezing rain fell.