Author’s Note: Happy New Year! Enjoy an extra chapter, there will still be the regularly scheduled one tomorrow!
(Also, gross medical stuff at the start, and some gore after, gives this the not-sexy nsfw tag).
The best laid plans– no matter what Shan Yutian wants, he’s one person.
One person with an imperfect knowledge of his guests, and plenty of blindspots in his surveillance. He can only do so much to protect them, and after barely a week of trying to make everything perfect (and trying to manifest something cute and cuddly to lure Zhou-ge), the inevitable happens.
—
Ding Dongqi is finally able to walk again after nearly three weeks of suffering and bandages. Chief amongst his complaints is the indignity of having someone as plainfaced as Xu Wang being the only person to handle his manhood during that time. Also worrying about it falling off. And the restrictions on him, the fact that he has to carefully wash every time that he pisses or shits or–
Well, that’s it.
After all, his little brother hasn’t been capable of anything more enjoyable.
Not after the initial injury, and not when he had a fucking catheter shoved up inside him. But now– Now he’s cleared to piss on his own, and he’s paid for the privilege with the gut-churning weirdness (not to mention discomfort) of Xu Wang having to pull the tubing out of his bladder.
For the record, whatever lube had helped get it in sure wasn’t around to help get it out.
When he gets home, he’s going to donate to every urology department in the metro area, just so he can have whatever preventative care necessary to ensure that he never fucking has to deal with such painful insult, ever again.
But before that…
Xu Wang inspects the shiny new skin that crisscrosses him. Checks his balls, and it’s- fuck, why does his nurse have to be a waxy-faced guy with acne scars? With this sort of ‘care,’ Ding Dongqi has no idea if he’s impotent, or it’s just proof that he’s got taste even when desperate, that he can’t get it up for someone as homely as Xu Wang.
So the first thing he does after getting a clean bill of health is to hobble off to the bathroom.
Xu Wang hooks his collar and reminds him, “Slow, light touch, unscented lotion. Stop if it hurts, or there’s blood.”
The indignity continues, fuck!
The presumption of a fucking deckhand not only knowing that he’s about to go comfort himself, but even feels free enough to comment on it and set parameters? He knows the guy probably saved his life, and he’d sure as fuck rather be seen at his worst by this guy, instead of his rich friends, but still–
He knows the instinct is wrong, but he can’t help it! It pisses him off!
Makes him want to tantrum. But of course, grown men don’t do that. At least not when sober. And not to people that have saved their life and haven’t even been rewarded with ridiculous amounts of money to call it even with. Even he knows that.
Ding Dongqi also knows he’s not likeable enough to receive goodwill. He should listen to Xu Wang, even if it makes him feel uncomfortable and emasculated. No matter what the guy says about how ‘miraculously well’ he’s healed and how it’s unheard of for someone with such wounds and such basic care to already be mostly okay…
Well, Ding Dongqi won’t believe it until he can see that his function is returned, even if the form is still a little welted. He’s even willing to follow Doc’s orders to do it. More than anyone, he wants to avoid further injury, you know?
So he forces himself to nod. And hobbles off to a bathroom that’s really not private enough for the kind of reunion that he wants to have after weeks on his back. But sometimes, you’ve got to work with what you’ve got.
Even a young master like him is capable of understanding that. On occasion.
—
…All his understanding fades away in the bathroom stall.
He does it the way Xu Wang says– slow and wet and everything. All he manages is a sad little half-mast. He wants to go harder, to speed up, but the minute he tries, all he can think about is ripping it off. Which is ridiculous, of course. But so is getting nearly castrated by a fucking jellyfish that couldn’t have gotten in there, and that happened so-
He’s not eager to take any chances.
He bangs his head against the stall and swears and uses his imagination to make up for the force and the robustness that he’s afraid he might never get back. He refuses to be a limp-dicked fuck, his face and his social life can’t survive it.
He knows if he can’t even be a good lay, he really won’t have anything to recommend him.
He closes his eyes and he sends up the world’s least appropriate prayer and imagines that the soft grip is that of someone young and timid and beautiful–
The little cook who doesn’t know anything yet. Maybe even-
Song Bai warned him off a long, long time ago– warned him well enough that he never tried, but with such high stakes, Ding Dongqi gives up, and imagines that it’s beautiful, foolish Zhou Xiwei.
XiXi, kneeling on the bathroom stall, so doe eyed that he doesn’t even know what’s happening. XiXi– maybe he saw Song Bai with a woman, maybe he realized it was never going to happen for him and he finally gave in and realized that he and Ding Dongqi could be great friends, if he’d just share some of that sweet submissiveness.
Ding Dongqi’s hand stays light– like Zhou Xiwei’s would be– as he speeds up and enjoys the responsiveness that the mental image brings. As he imagines soft fingers replaced with a clumsy mouth, as he imagines what it would be like, to be the person to initiate someone so untouchable.
Someone that could fall into his arms for years, because for all his faults, Zhou Xiwei’s love is built to last, and as someone that knows himself to be unlovable, Ding Dongqi is entranced by that.
He-
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Ktfgf’r j ojiafglcu, j qblca bo vlwlclrtlcu gfaegcr, jcv tf ifar tlr lwjulcjalbc mbcalcef ab gec gjwqjca. Lf lwjulcfr atja ilaaif mbbx xlv, pblclcu lc. Pwjulcfr Itbe Wlkfl rb fcatgjiifv atja tf afjmtfr atf xlv tbk ab qifjrf tlr wjc, fnfc atbeut tf’r vfjv pfjiber. Pwjulcfr atf ibbx bc atja qeoofv-eq agjrt’r ojmf, lo tf kjixfv lc bc tlr ygbatfg jcv tlr mgert ybat ribyyfglcu bnfg tlr-
That does it. Ding Dongqi comes apart.
And then comes the pain.
He opens his eyes and it’s red, all red, like he’s taken off a layer of skin. Red like he’s pissed a bloody river into the pit toilet, red like a scarlet ghost chasing him-
He screams. Vomits. Runs.
Pushes past Xu Wang, who has been waiting outside this whole time in case something bad happened. Xu Wang who realizes he can’t catch him, and looks into the stall instead, in case there’s a clot or some sort of necrotic tissue that he missed that only made itself known in it’s first clearing out-
But there’s nothing to see. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the expected result, with the thinnest fringe of blood. Expected. Something he’d warned him about. Just sequela from the catheter and the injury.
Nothing that could explain that screaming.
Xu Wang doesn’t have time to investigate further.
He can only run after the guy and try to calm him.
—
If he could stop for a minute, Ding Dongqi would notice the inconsistencies.
Notice that there’s no way he could debride his dick, without feeling it. Notice that there’s no way he could run like the wind, with such an injury. No way that there wouldn’t be a bloom of blood across his trousers, or a ribbon of blood marking his way.
If he paused for a moment, he’d realize that his mind is playing tricks on him.
That he’s being forcibly, clumsily, re-educated.
But he was never all that interested in his education. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t think. He just panics. Given what he’s been through and what he’s seen, it’s understandable. But it’s also unfortunate.
He runs, away from the ocean, away from the red of the setting sun, and the only way to go is up, across the ridge and scrambling over the rocks of the knife edge of the volcano that no longer is. And if he notices the blood on his hands and knees and shins, it just feeds into his delusions. He mistakes it for the blood that he’s already expecting. He takes it as proof that this place won’t let him off, not even for a moment.
He runs, and he hears shouting, and-
He turns back. Sees all of them, all of them that matter, chasing after him and calling him back. He feels a little more himself, as he takes in the worry on their faces–
No. Not every face.
The ones that started this all, the one that led him into this mess and the one that first injured him and made him feel the need to be a big man in the ocean. They’re looking at him like- like he’s a disappointment? Like he’s messing things up. Like he’s the fuck up, and not them, and that’s really rich, coming from two hayseed-
Rage replaces the instinct to flee and any softness that his friends’ concern had brought him. Ding Dongqi turns to berate these provincials. He turns too fast. Slips. There’s no time for him to understand. There’s just the tilting earth, the red-streaked sky, and then-
Nothingness.
—
Ding Dongqi disappears into the crater.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh my God, oh FUCK FUCK FUCK!”
Whatever else they are, Ding Dongqi’s friends have gotten good at running towards the crisis, instead of away from it.
Maybe it’s the memory of the beach, but Qian Li is the first to take off, a sprinter exploding before the report of the starting pistol. Zhang Zhiping is right on his heels, scrambling up, like there can be any point of rescue at all, from such a drop. Oddly enough, it’s Song Bai that’s the slowest of the three of them–
He stays back to steady Zhou Xiwei. Only to find that he’s been supplanted, and it’s Shan Haoyu helping him hide his face as he struggles not to hyperventilate. Song Bai’s heart feels a little sour. Especially when Shan Haoyu’s hands start rubbing slow circles against Zhou Xiwei’s back.
That’s-
That’s their thing.
But he’s just upset for a moment. He knows he’s being ridiculous.
He knows that his love for Zhou Xiwei and XiXi’s love for him aren’t equal. What he means, and what Zhou Xiwei feels, aren’t the same thing. He can’t keep doing such things, and he can’t keep claiming dominion. Because for Zhou Xiwei, it’s not brotherly. It’s something else, a promise that Song Bai can’t deliver on.
It’s good for someone else to take his place. It means XiXi is maturing past his misunderstood childhood fascination. He knows that, but it’s still hard to let go. It’s hard not to be the person helping him.
He rubs his fingers together and restrains himself to a steady voice. An older brother’s gentle but firm order:
“Don’t come. It’s- we’ll take care of it. You stay here, and don’t look. Okay XiXi?”
Zhou Xiwei’s back shudders.
Back then, Song Bai really doesn’t know what those fucking detectives were thinking. Or why the family lawyer allowed it. Letting Zhou Xiwei identify his parents’ bodies– was unconscionable. He was the son, but he was also
Nine. Years. Old.
Nine years old, faced with his Mom and Dad with their bones all wrong and half their faces gone. When the Song family had arrived to fix it, the damage was already done. Even if they never let him be exposed to such horror again, how could he escape it? And how could Song Bai not become overprotective of him? He was the one who heard him scream himself awake, for years. He’s the one that felt him convulsing in time with the thunder, for ages. He’s the one that failed him first.
Song Bai isn’t a flower protector.
He just doesn’t want to see Zhou Xiwei that hurt, ever again. He doesn’t want those long years of nightmares to return. He just wants to be a good brother, the person that could take on such grim tasks, if they were ever again called for.
He knows, whatever’s left of their friend, it’s not for Zhou Xiwei to look at.
Against Shan Haoyu’s neck, Zhou Xiwei nods. He still doesn’t turn to Song Bai for comfort.
Really sour. But not as sour as what must be waiting for him, in the crater above.
Song Bai nods to the oddly-impassive Shan Haoyu, and turns towards his grim duty. Obviously, there’s no way- no way that Old Ding could have survived it. Despite all that work and all that luck, in the end, he won’t make it off this island.
Song Bai tries to detach himself, but with his straight back to Zhou Xiwei, he feels his eyes turn hot. Ding Dongqi-
He knows he’s not a great person. He does.
But he’s been his friend since they were in prams. He doesn’t want to collect his body. He doesn’t want to see what gravity and such sharp stone did to what just moments ago was a person. He’ll do it, because he has to, because it’s what he’s been taught it means to be a man. But he knows he’ll lose some part of his youth, in doing so.
Maybe the last of it.
He takes one gulp of air, like he’s about to freedive, and reaches the spot where Ding Dongqi-
—
“I didn’t know you were friends.”
Shan Haoyu’s voice is a concerned whisper, as his Zhou-ge shakes like a leaf against him. It must be emotional– the sun, like always, is shining on him. If anything, it’s shining more brightly in apology for what it has allowed him to witness. He shouldn’t be cold, but he’s shivering like he’s about to perish.
Zhou-ge’s voice is as weak as his body suddenly is. “We- fuck, I don’t know, I just don’t- don’t want him to be dead, don’t want to see, not again, I don’t want to see it!”
His voice breaks on the last word. Shan Haoyu’s heart breaks in time with it.
Shan Haoyu isn’t Song Bai.
He wasn’t lucky enough to grow up with Zhou Xiwei; wasn’t able to know his secrets and be his comfort or to understand when he got into moods like this.
But even if he doesn’t have the history or the subtext, the things that are important, he understands. He understands that Zhou-ge was having a good day, and now he is on the verge of collapse, over someone unworthy of it. That he is unhappy, on this island that already doesn’t have much to recommend it.
He understands that punishing Ding Dongqi isn’t worth Zhou-ge being like this.
For the first time in a long time, Shan Haoyu feels anger towards the island. Feels like it really is cursed, feels like blind karma isn’t the comforting thing that he’d long since been warped to think that it was. Feels like safety isn’t worth having such bloody thorns, now that there’s someone innocent to be stained by them.
Why would you let him be upset by something like this? How dare you make him hurt! Over this? Kill him in the night if you want, but don’t let it be a spectacle. It’s not like anyone ever manages to learn from your warnings, why can’t you do better? Why can’t you make him happy?!
Under rebuke, the sun dims and the winds pick up, blowing from the crater. It’s a whipping storm, a gale across a grave, but then– then it carries Zhang Zhiping’s strong, shocked voice up to the rest of them.
“Not dead? Not dead! Come on, this ledge, let’s get him up it.”
What?
“Fuck, careful with his head!”
What??
Zhou Xiwei looks up full of wonder and hope.
Shan Haoyu’s frown relaxes, and if he’s surprised, it can easily be attributed to a miracle, rather than the island being willing to undo something it surely already did. And Shan Yutian? Despite being the original victim in this– he looks like the sun itself has descended.
Like he’ll break out into song in just a moment.
As the three young men cut themselves up, scrambling across the crater with a limp and bloody Dinq Dongqi hoisted between them, Shan Haoyu still remembers to press Zhou-ge’s head against his shoulder.
Even if he’s alive, even if the island realized its wrongs and made some timely edits–
He can’t be that far from death.
A fall is still a fall, and the rocks are still vicious. The scene is bloody enough that he’s sure Zhou Xiwei shouldn’t pollute his eyes with it. Speaking of which– he also raises an eyebrow at his little brother and relaxes when A-Tian good-naturedly walks over and hides near his armpit.
Even if A-Tian and he are used to far worse scenes, they need to become more normal. For the comfort of Zhou-ge and for their own development, they should learn to be more sensitive, and less indifferent to suffering. Otherwise, someday, Zhou-ge might become alienated from them.
Now that he knows what it’s like to be kissed, Shan Haoyu doesn’t want to return to those days.
By the time the men arrive with their half-dead charge, the Shan brothers and Zhou Xiwei look like a well-adjusted little family. Or a folksy boy band. One of the two things.
—
Xu Wang can only clean him up, shake his head, and admit that he’s out of his depth.
Triage is still okay, but he doesn’t know how to handle a brain injury.
He doesn’t even really know how to evaluate it. The most he can do is grab one of Father Song’s wind-up flashlights and shine it in Ding Dongqi’s eyes and rejoice, when they dilate instead of staying slack.
While he checks, the Song parents hover and worry and whisper.
As representatives of the older generation, Mother and Father Song have finally come online as guardians. It’s easier to do, when it’s not a young person’s private area that needs talking about. Mother Song, who regularly lunches with Mother Ding, adjusts his covers and pours water that he definitely isn’t in any shape to drink.
She drops her voice, even though he surely can’t hear them through the unconsciousness. And the bandages.
“So, that means he’s not brain-damaged?”
Xu Wang hesitates and hedges his bets, hemming and hawing. “I don’t know about that. That kind of fall, the shock his nerves had already gone through with the first attack?” He comes clean, feeling like a fraud, even though he’s been very clear on his (lack of) qualifications from the start. “I’m not a doctor, okay? Maybe he’ll wake up with a killer headache in the morning. But I can’t imagine him not having damage. Lasting. Probably.”
“…He’s his mother’s whole world.”
Just like her Xiao Bai is — one son, one brilliant strand of hope. Mother Ding sacrificed time and youth and rest to build an empire, and now her child might never be able to inherit it? Now she might not be able to use her golden years to finally enjoy accompanying him?
Father Song rubs her shoulder. “Now, now, the boy already said he’s not a doctor.”
Weeks ago, Xu Wang might have been offended by that dismissal. But after spending weeks caring for Ding Dongqi– even if he’s an ass, Xu Wang’s heart softened. Like having a puffed up little dog that nipped at you, it was fine to disdain it, but if it ended up injured and dumped outside your door, you’d still end up caring about the little hellion.
Even adopting it.
For the sake of that, Xu Wang hopes Father Song is right. Hopes that he really is just out of his depth, and that the fancy whitecoats on the mainland can wave away all the concerns that he has. But after watching Ding Dongqi stumble from calamity to calamity, he’s a little light on hope.
And he still wants to know what got his patient so irritated…
He excuses himself, to give the Song parents time to stand in for Ding Dongqi’s own.
He walks to the bathroom and once more carefully checks for something, anything, that explains how someone can go from jacking off to jumping off a fucking cliff. When they’d talked, he’d been fine– a little surly, a little secretly terrified, but altogether all right, given the circumstances.
Such an overreaction to a little bit of expected blood doesn’t make sense.
Xu Wang washes his hands and scrubs his blood-caked nails and then he inspects the bathroom from top to bottom, even daring to squat down and check the kinds of places that no one else would look. Impossibly, wrapped around the porcelain edge of the squat toilet, he finds something slimy and-
Huh. What is that? Phlegm? A rice noodle?
He finds two reeds from a broken seagrass bath mat and uses them like chopsticks.
To pick up a single, squiggling, tentacle.
Jellyfish? Again? How could it– How could one possibly-?
His eyes roll back and he joins Ding Dongqi in being dead to the world.
Author’s Corner: In my defense, there aren’t any chapters that are appropriate for celebration, but I still wanted to do something to mark the occasion.
What to say about Ding Dongqi–
So there’s a game I played years ago called Dishonored (highly recommend) where it is possible to complete the entire game in a pacifist play, punishing enemies and freeing the empire without actually killing anyone. I chose to play this way.
But at the end of the game, there’s a real question as to whether or not killing your enemies or creatively punishing them is the more merciful option, and writing Ding Dongqi’s convalescence has really reminded me of that debate–
He’s only alive (twice now) because of Zhou Xiwei’s unwitting influence on the island and Shan Haoyu, but… honestly, would he have been happier dying that first time? I have a guess…
See you with another chapter tomorrow!
When I see the NSFW I’ve bet with myself “sure it’s o my for gore” never been so sad to win a bet. I have very mixed feeling with Ding jackass. On one hand I do enjoy every punishment that comes his way. Nothing wrong to have fantasies except he acted on it without consent so. On the other hand, my on mother voice is asking me “does he really deserve it ?” Doesn’t have an answer. Still laughing each time he suffers. Thank you for the chapter !
Haha, honestly, a big theme of this story is sort of… thinking about the nature of karma when we look at it as a vehicle of revenge.
I’m thinking of all my beloved face-slapping stories, where the baddies are forced to their knees with no way out. I love those stories (really love them) but I can’t help but think about how terrible it really would be if the only solution to grievances (even those that haven’t sprouted yet) is overwhelming punishment. All those rebirths where so-and-so steals the company, so MC (or more often, ML) gets them addicted to drugs and breaks their legs and sends them to prison and sends them photos of their lover with someone else, etc.–
Part of the idea behind Ding Dongqi is this–
He’s unlikeable. He’s a sexual predator (mild on the island and implied as major off it). He certainly shouldn’t be excused or allowed to run rampant. But instead of just doing a quick and brutal ‘he died in this very painful way that we can all feel vindicated about’ I wanted to try to inject the minutiae of what the actual suffering behind common reckoning injuries (like castration) might be–
Not to excuse him. Not even to say that those stories or that venting is bad (because again, I love ’em!) but just to point out the inherent horror of a world of pure karmic retribution.
Like Shan Haoyu, even if we initially find it comforting… should we? Hah.
[On the plus side, this is as bad as it gets as far as details. While there are other deaths and injuries, after trying and perhaps failing to make the point with Old Ding, it calms down for everyone else who runs afoul…]
I know he deserve punishment and I felt vindicated the first time, but seeing him suffer such excruciating pain again and again makes me feels pity for him and wondering if it’s not too much. Like a quick death would have been the more human thing to do since I think he will die in the end.
On the other hand, if he had a chance to live and be somewhat healed, I think the punishment is much more appropriate, because then he can use the rest of his life to change and it would feel like punishment, which should be meant to correct behavior. And can’t correct behaviour if you’re dead. But well… what are the chances that Uto let him live ?╮(╯﹏╰）╭
is uto not killing him for good because of zhou xiwei and shan haoyu??
also damn that’s so vicious… why did they ask a kid to identify the bodies of his parents?!! that’s the best way to traumatize someone for life wtf
Yep, Uto is basically a guard dog that doesn’t understand much when it comes to nuance, but when Shan Haoyu (who usually feels comforted by it) and Zhou Xiwei (who it is newly in love with) both react negatively to the ‘gift’ it gives them, it will quickly try to correct itself. With mixed results, but at the end of the day, when choosing between its ideals and its people, it will always choose its chosen people.
That was a completely unexpected depth to the appeal Zhou Xiwei holds for Ding Dongqi – his capacity for long term love? Donkey knows he’s unlovable? I should not have been shocked, I do know this author will make a reader kind of sorry they hoped for long suffering instead of a quick death for a slimy character 😄. I wonder if the Island would continue to respond to Zhou Xiwei if he realized he could influence it, or would it be like flying dreams, where you plummet as soon as you grasp that you’re dreaming.
Eh.. Ding Dongqi again, not surprised at all!!
I have absolutely no sympathies for Donkey, Laughed my ass off when he fell in the crater. Self reflection and introspection are things that are not hard to do. He just never improves and thinks everyone is below him. Hopes he gets more coming his way.