Chapter 78

Chapter 78

A servant stepped forward, intending to help Guan Heng take his cloak.

Guan Heng shifted slightly, then seemed to remember something. He said, “No need,” before lowering his head a little and saying to Ning Qiuyan, “Come to the media room at nine.”

Ning Qiuyan agreed.

The servant came over to help Ning Qiuyan hang up his coat. Ning Qiuyan thanked him gently, then watched Guan Heng’s retreating figure as he went upstairs, lost in thought.

When Guan Heng had moved just now, Ning Qiuyan had seen a few bright red bloodstains along the edge of the clothes hidden beneath the cloak.

Was it from an animal? Or from those stowaways?

Ning Qiuyan couldn’t guess.

But since Guan Heng didn’t want him to see it, he wouldn’t ask.

This time, in addition to bringing Guan Ziming a New Year’s gift, Ning Qiuyan had prepared something for everyone else as well. When he came to the island, he had deliberately dragged along the largest suitcase he owned, stuffed to the brim. Inside were heated knee pads for Uncle Kang and Granny Bai, gloves for Dr. Ling, clay figurines for Lu Qianque and Gu Yu, and a great many local specialties from Sujing, all meant for the others in the manor.

After returning to his room, he took everything out one by one. When he went to the dining room for dinner, he handed the gifts out along the way.

Everyone was delighted to receive them. Uncle Kang immediately sat down in a chair and put the heated knee pads to use.

Granny Bai went to bed early. After returning from the farm, she had already turned in. Uncle Kang said with a beaming smile, “Granny Bai will definitely like these too. Xiao Ning, you really are a thoughtful child. So considerate. Thank you.”

The others also thanked him one after another.

“You’re welcome.” Ning Qiuyan was not used to scenes like this, so all he could do was blush and repeat, “There’s no need to thank me.”

In truth, Ning Qiuyan was not that thoughtful. He had simply had the idea of wanting to give everyone something, but because he lacked experience, he had not known what would be best. The gifts had all been suggestions from Su Jianzhou after Ning Qiuyan asked him.

“With an employer like Mr. Guan, I imagine the people on Du Island probably don’t lack much of anything,” Su Jianzhou had said over the phone at the time. “Since it’s the Spring Festival, you don’t need to give anything too expensive. It’s best to choose practical little gifts based on what each person needs-things that aren’t easy to get on the island.”

He had given a few examples, and Ning Qiuyan had hurriedly written them all down. He had mailed everything to Wutong in advance, then packed it all up before coming to the island.

The fragrance always lingers in the hand that gives the rose.

Seeing everyone happy, Ning Qiuyan, who had been cared for by them all this time, felt happy too.

Dr. Ling lived in another house not far south of the manor, only a ten-minute walk away. It was a single-story building with high ceilings. It was not large, long and narrow, and looked rather like a shipping container. Sometimes, when Ning Qiuyan passed by, he would run into people going there to see him about an illness. He felt it could count as Du Island’s own private clinic.

Dr. Ling was flattered to receive the gloves. After trying them on, he praised them nonstop.

It forced Ning Qiuyan, who was terrified of polite socializing, to say “There’s really no need to thank me” several more times.

The two chatted for a bit before Dr. Ling said, “I was just about to look for you. When I went over this afternoon, you had already gone out.” Then he pointed to the chair beside him. “Sit down first.”

So Ning Qiuyan sat.

Dr. Ling first used some equipment to give him a basic examination, asking whether he felt uncomfortable anywhere and telling him not to hold back out of embarrassment.

Ning Qiuyan shook his head each time. “No.”

Aside from the faint marks visible on his wrists and neck, Ning Qiuyan indeed did not look injured. The two little red dots on the side of his neck also looked as if they were almost healed, as though several days had already passed.

Wearing the gloves, Dr. Ling examined the bite marks and asked, “Are there any elsewhere?”

“No,” Ning Qiuyan said.

Dr. Ling then used a small flashlight to check his pupils.

Ning Qiuyan told him, “Aside from the day I came to the island, sir hasn’t bitten me, and he hasn’t fed me his blood either.”

Dr. Ling froze. His movements stopped, and he failed to hide the surprise on his face. “Mr. Guan, he… The two of you, how did…”

Ning Qiuyan was far too different to Guan Heng. Back when Guan Heng had first drunk his blood and suffered a toxic reaction, Dr. Ling had personally witnessed him being seduced by it, veins bulging at his temples, his eyes bloodred as he vanished from the room in an instant. Every second he had remained had been a test for Guan Heng-and a threat to Ning Qiuyan’s life.

Intimate contact was just as dangerous for them.

In fact, when desire and instinct overlapped, it was like walking a tightrope over a cliff.

Dr. Ling had no idea how they had managed it.

Naturally, Ning Qiuyan did not say.

Because of the unspoken secret between the two of them, silence settled over the room for a moment.

Ning Qiuyan was the first to break it. He told Dr. Ling, “When we were in Sujing, sir fed me his blood once. After I drank it, I felt awful. I even had a fever. It was like I had been seriously ill-my whole body was weak. But after I woke up, my injuries were healed, and my body felt much lighter too.”

Dr. Ling collected himself from his shock and explained, “A Vampire’s cells don’t age, and their metabolism is extremely slow. That’s because their blood contains a special factor capable of reshaping bodily functions. So even when they are injured, they heal very quickly.”
Ning Qiuyan knew that much.

At the abandoned pig farm Ray had taken him to, he had seen with his own eyes how a Monster’s mouth was cut open, only for the wound to close right back up.

Dr. Ling said, “The same factor takes effect in the human body as well. But human bodies can’t withstand nearly as much as theirs, so the side effects are intense. If the dosage isn’t controlled properly, even the slightest excess can very easily cause a high fever, convulsions, sudden conditions like epilepsy, and ultimately death. It isn’t necessarily a good thing. The older the Vampire, the stronger the effect of their blood, and the more careful one has to be when using it.”

Ning Qiuyan nodded.

Guan Heng had mentioned this last time too.

“Especially someone like Mr. Guan…” Dr. Ling took off his gloves and packed up his things as he spoke. “His blood doesn’t merely affect humans anymore. It can even change his own kind.”

Ning Qiuyan’s eyes widened. “Change his own kind?”

“Yes. Change them. Strengthen them,” Dr. Ling said. “If a young Vampire ingests Mr. Guan’s blood, their own blood will merge with it, allowing them to be remade from the ground up and gain a far stronger constitution. On top of that, in a race as strictly hierarchical as the Vampires, lineage and origin are of utmost importance. If Mr. Guan’s blood flows in their body, their status rises by leaps and bounds.”

Dr. Ling also brought up an old piece of gossip.

“I heard that over a decade ago, an elder Vampire fell from grace. Before he was sentenced to Deep-Sea Imprisonment, dozens of Vampires flooded into his cell and sucked him dry until he was nothing but a husk.”

Thinking of the looks of hunger the Vampires had given Guan Heng on the night of Camellia Night, and then of what Guan Heng had said about stowaways coming to the island, Ning Qiuyan felt goose bumps rise all over his skin.

So this so-called worship of the strong carried such a primitive, savage meaning beneath it.

The more he learned about the Vampires, the more horrified he became. Often, only belatedly, he would remember that Guan Heng was one of them too.

And yet Guan Heng was completely different.

He understood that clearly.

“Sorry. I think I scared you,” Dr. Ling said with a smile. “Don’t worry. No one dares lay a hand on Mr. Guan, and no one is his match.”

Ning Qiuyan nodded. “I know.”

Before he left, Dr. Ling called him back and tossed him a small box of medicine. “You can apply this even if you aren’t injured.”

Ning Qiuyan caught it by reflex. When he saw the words on the box and realized what it was, his face suddenly flushed bright red. He buried his face in his collar, gave a muffled “Oh,” and hurried away.

The snow was glaringly white.

The night lights shone across the path, and his footsteps made faint sounds underfoot.

In the cold air, Ning Qiuyan exhaled white mist. His hand squeezed the little box of ointment Dr. Ling had given him inside his pocket, and it was a long while before the heat in his face finally subsided. He was with Guan Heng now, and it seemed everyone knew. Yet everyone acted so naturally about it. It made him feel both ashamed and grateful.

Was there anywhere else in the world as understanding and accepting as Du Island?

Without a doubt, he was lucky.

And so his steps toward the mansion quickened.
By the time he arrived at the screening room, it was already a little late, past their agreed time of nine o’clock.

This place had been converted from another room. Inside, there was only a large screen and a long, soft sofa.

The lights were off. Familiar images were playing on the screen, and Ning Qiuyan recognized them with a single glance. It was The Legend of 1900, one of the films on the list he had recommended to Guan Heng. Guan Heng was screening them in order.

The movie had already been playing for more than ten minutes. Guan Heng sat at one end of the sofa. Hearing him come in, he turned his head. The shifting light was dim, revealing only the deep lines of his profile, making it impossible to discern the emotion in his eyes.

“Where did you go?” he asked in a low voice.

Ning Qiuyan had showered and was wearing that creamy-white crewneck hoodie. Out of habit, he had pulled the sleeves down over half of his hands. He was also holding something.

He came to the sofa and looked at Guan Heng. “I went to give everyone New Year’s gifts.”

Guan Heng asked, “Where’s mine?”

Ning Qiuyan handed over the thing in his hands. “This is for you.”

“Thank you.” Guan Heng accepted it and leaned back elegantly, tearing open the wrapping right away. “Mm… it’s a notebook.”

The way he lifted his eyes and looked over made Ning Qiuyan’s eyelid twitch. He quickly sat down on the sofa, leaned closer, and said, “Open it and take a look. It’s actually an audio photo album. I made it myself. It isn’t an ordinary notebook.”

Ning Qiuyan was clearly a little anxious, obedient but eager to explain.

So he simply took his gift back from Guan Heng’s hands and explained it page by page himself.

“Look. This is Wencui Park, where we went last time.” He lowered his eyes, his fair fingers pointing at the dotted design below. “Do you remember? Last time, I recorded some of the rain there. I uploaded the sound, and this underneath is a QR code. As long as you scan it, you can hear it.”
By the glow of the screen, the shade of the trees and the lake in the photo were both a rich, deep green.

It was always raining in Sujing. Ning Qiuyan had gone back later to take the shot, but it recreated the scene from back then almost perfectly.

Guan Heng gave a low “Mm.” Ning Qiuyan turned the page again. “This is the museum. There’s a QR code underneath this one too.”

He flipped farther back.

There were streets in Sujing, the iron tower, the airport, and even the hotel they had stayed in together. Ning Qiuyan was retracing Guan Heng’s route through Sujing.

He studied film scoring, so he understood better than anyone the strange, powerful points of memory created when images and sound were combined. That was why he had recorded the sounds of every location. Through photographs and audio, he wanted to help Guan Heng hold on to memories of the outside world.

The last photograph was not outdoors.

It was in black and white: a large bed standing all alone, with headphones and a notebook on top of it, and a coffee cup on the floor. There was a QR code beneath this photo as well.

“This is the apartment on Jinghua Road,” Ning Qiuyan said. “I recorded the sound of the firewood in the fireplace, and a little of the music I was listening to at the time.”

As he spoke, he continued turning the pages.

“I left some space in the back. Next time, if I take any nice photos or record any nice sounds, I’ll add them in too…”

Guan Heng stopped him. “Ning Qiuyan.”

They remained on the page with the big bed. Guan Heng’s hand was covering his.

Ning Qiuyan froze. Then he heard Guan Heng ask, “Why did you take this one?”

Ning Qiuyan did not lift his head.

Guan Heng’s tone did not change. As if patiently coaxing him along, he asked again, “You said this was to preserve memories, but I’ve never been here. Why did you take this photo?”

Ning Qiuyan’s fingers curled inward.

He stayed silent.

Only after a long while did he say, “I hoped… that when you saw this one, you would think of me.”

He raised his head and looked at Guan Heng again.

Guan Heng was still in that same habitually languid posture, and he was looking at him too.

They were very close, close enough for their breaths to brush together. In the film, the voices calling the protagonist “1900” gradually faded into the distance.

Ning Qiuyan’s neck was slender, and he looked exceptionally obedient. His dark, bright eyes always seemed damp. The bridge of his nose was elegant and refined, and his lips were rosy and full. Over those days and nights, every part of him had been completely possessed, from his hair to his fingertips, every inch still marked by lingering traces of desire.

He was inexperienced and clean.

Yet he was so sweet it was almost cloying, giving off the signal of something ripened to its fullest.

His heartbeat was quickening.

But they never moved any closer.

Humans were too fragile.

They could not continue.

Guan Heng pinched his chin. His gaze swept over Ning Qiuyan’s lips, and he said evenly, “Next time, take a photo of yourself.”

Ning Qiuyan heard him sluggishly, and just as sluggishly answered, “…Okay.”

The gift-giving was over.

Ning Qiuyan curled up on the sofa and watched the movie with Guan Heng. He had exhausted a great deal of strength over the past few days, and it was already the time when he usually slept. He did not manage to hold out for long before drowsiness made his eyes fall shut.

There was a blanket prepared in the screening room. He felt Guan Heng wrap him in it. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in Guan Heng’s arms, one hand having automatically grabbed the corner of Guan Heng’s clothes.

And yet his sleepiness slowly faded.

Certain images kept surfacing in his mind, so vivid that even just being alone with Guan Heng like this, doing nothing, sent waves of tingling numbness through his body and made him tremble faintly.

These past few days really had been too much for a human.

Especially in the Meditation Room he had once entered, where all the dreams from the past had been realized one by one. The mirrors reflected their figures and reflected countless frenzied scenes, assailing his vision and his senses again and again.

In every mirror, he saw himself. In every mirror, he also saw Guan Heng, half his face concealed by a black mask.

They had been like entangled beasts.

Ning Qiuyan felt as if he had nearly died.

He shrank into himself and hid his face, only to bury it against the chest of the very culprit responsible.

Guan Heng had long since noticed his trembling. He also saw Ning Qiuyan’s ears, red all the way through, and his fingers gone pale from gripping too hard.

Perhaps no one could have endured what Ning Qiuyan had. Guan Heng knew that even though he had given Ning Qiuyan the right to call a stop, when faced with him, Ning Qiuyan might never refuse.

Disobedient.

But this time, he suddenly seemed reluctant to punish him.

“Ningning.” It was the first time Guan Heng had called him that. His cool fingers brushed over Ning Qiuyan’s earlobe.

When Ning Qiuyan lifted his face, flushed from holding his breath, Guan Heng’s phoenix eyes, ringed faintly with red, were watching him in the darkness.

“We need a safeword.”

Author’s Note:

When “Ning” is used as a surname, it is pronounced in the fourth tone; in the nickname, it is pronounced in the second tone.