Director Xi squats in one of his little potting sheds, trying to duck the questions of the boys that have come to bother him. He gives their subterfuge a seven out of ten. Not bad, but this is his seventh go round, okay?
He’s older, and more tired than he looks, and he has been pumped for information by all types, some of whom were sociopathic enough to appear completely innocent and forthright even when actively planning to hold him hostage to use as an escape token.
It had taken him weeks to get the smell of those particular psychos’ melted flesh out of his pores. He still can’t eat roasted meat. Probably never will– even infinite lifetimes can’t be enough to get over the mental associations that come from feeling two people turn into human candles against your back. Comeuppance leaves marks on bystanders too.
But it’s hard to take these young men seriously, given all that.
As they ‘casually chat,’ Xi Kuang carefully records the heights of his little bean sprouts and re-pots the three that are still struggling, moving them higher on the shelf so that they can soak up more sun.
The questions the boys ask hardly require his full attention; they’re just fishing around for information on boats. It’s unfortunate–
Like Xiao Tian and Xiao Yu, he’d been hoping that this group would manage to stay well-behaved all the way through. Not that he blames them. After all, escape is a natural human instinct. He certainly would have tried it himself, if he was younger and his memory was less excellent.
Bah.
It’s just a shame, a damn shame, that the whole miserable cycle is going to start again.
Well, the days of peace were nice while they lasted! He’s not energetic enough to hold back their momentum or fight it: He’ll listen to the island’s plans and if he has to become a source of information, he… won’t try that hard to run from it.
“A boat, you say?” Xi Kuang squints up at the sun that’s so good for his plants and for his state of mind. Ah, he’s going to miss that as well, once they’re plunged back into the endless overcast. He pulls off his gardening gloves and beats them against the fencepost. Tries one last time to dissuade them, for the sake of the sun and the peaceful days they’ve already granted.
“Now, I know you and your captain have done some great work on some of the old furniture. And that liquor still– boy do I hope that you have success with that. This old man hasn’t had a good drink in longer than he cares to admit! But a boat is a different animal, full of hidden dangers and expensive pits.”
If only these two were really just bored and looking for a new project, like they say–
How nice that would be!
But his warning doesn’t land, and the engineer doesn’t falter for even a minute. He puffs out his chest and pretends to be a casual and artless instead of someone with deep plans. If only he’d taken a few acting classes, he might be able to convince someone.
“Ah, but the water’s in our blood. And now that we know about those jellyfish, we can’t just go swimming out to cool our passions.” Di Qing elbows Wang Xi, who steps in and smiles in that innocent way that always gets him such great tips.
“Yeah! If we had a boat, we could show off our fishing skills. Help contribute something, instead of just always eating into your larder. Wouldn’t Shan Yutian like some more fresh ingredients to play with?”
Shan Yutian would be happiest if the ocean ceased to exist, kid.
But some things can’t be said.
So Director Xi just smiles, like he’s really being won over.
Secretly, he still has some hope for this group. It’s important not to turn their supposition into fact by suddenly warning them off too harshly and building up whatever strange ideas they have in their heads. He learned that the hard way. And children of the sea are always the quickest to catch on and go defensive.
“Well, we have one good boat– but it’s still out. Catching fish, just like you mentioned, but when there’s a bad storm, they sometimes have to take shelter on one of our sister islands and wait it out– even preserve the fish they can and start all over on their trip.”
Of course, that’s because they’re cursed to never set foot here, but to always return, but you don’t need to know about that. Especially since you’ll certainly latch on to-
“Sister island?”
Sure enough. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Director Xi shakes his head and prevaricates, “Ah, I’m overselling it a bit. It’s nearly just a reef, but it’s got good shelter for storms. Maybe it was the baby volcano of this one? Anyway, there’s just a rotten dock and a worse storehouse. Nothing much else.”
He waves his hands and starts fiddling with the beans and sweet potatoes that are winding up the grey wooden fence posts.
“Oh, so it’s like an archipelago? Tiny little outcroppings from here to somewhere a little more connected to the rest of the world?” Ha, what a good casual question. But Director Xi sadly must rain on the little guy’s parade.
“Other direction I’m afraid. It’s just the last anchorage before the continental shelf falls off. If you wound up there and kept going, you’d be in a very bad position unless you got lucky with rain and wind and provisions to push you back here, or all the way over to Hawaii.” He taps his chin. “Probably certain to die before then.”
The boys share a look that they think he can’t see, and stop asking about the sister island. Smart lads. Good seedlings. Wish they would just leave it off and sit tight so that they can all finally discover what happens if nothing triggers a bloodbath. Even he’s curious about that!
Alas, young men and women, once they get an idea in their heads… They don’t learn until the world teaches them. And the island’s a stricter teacher than most.
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.
“Fcmif, sbe wfcalbcfv sbeg ubbv ybja– vbfr atja wfjc atfgf’r j yjv bcf, bg fnfc pera qjgar ijslcu jgbecv? Jbeiv yf j oec qgbpfma obg er ijvr.”
Vegf la mbeiv.
Mgff klii lr qjgjwbeca.
Wl Bejcu tjr cb mtblmf yea ab qijs jibcu jcv ulnf atfw mtblmfr, ktlif vfrqfgjafis tbqlcu atja atfs wjxf atf gluta bcfr. Ktfs’v yf atf olgra, yea atlr tjr yffc j mjijwlas oeii bo olgrar, rb… qfgtjqr? Zjsyf atfs’ii rff la jcv cba rajga j vfrqfgjaf, yjmx-ylalcu rageuuif atja’r vbbwfv ogbw atf bearfa? Zjsyf atfs kbc’a ifa atf kbgra qjgar bo atfwrfinfr bea?
“You already saw the dinghy. Can’t even deep water fish on that. Can’t even get to our little sister island. But there is an old fishing boat– probably more rust than metal at this point. Over in that shed ’round the southern point. Doubt you can get it running, but as long as you’re careful of tetanus and cuts and-”
“We will be!”
They quickly make their excuses and run off. Xi Kuang keeps staring into the distance, long after they’re gone.
…It would be nice if things could be different.
It would be nice if this time, someone, anyone, would look at all the flashing warning signs and decide not to go forward with their terrible plans. But that’s a choice that they’ll have to make themselves. He’ll just work on getting his plants as healthy as possible before the sun leaves them again.
If he starts early and this inertia holds, maybe he can get a full round of canning in!
—
Actually, Wang Xi is exactly the kind of person that Director Xi is hoping for. If it was up to him, he’d just sit tight and try not to notice anything spooky going on around them.
He’s not an action hero, and he’s not a detective either. He’s just a young man that wants to do a good job, make big tips, and see the world. He doesn’t want to fight with his boyfriend. He doesn’t want to get tetanus. And he doesn’t want to anger any ghosts, though he does indeed believe in them.
After all, things on this island have been a little boring, but perfectly fine. Other than sinking their ship, it really hasn’t done anything to them. And Ding Dongqi–
Well, he doesn’t know the guy, other than serving his drinks for three days, getting groped a bit when he wasn’t careful enough, and sharing a week on the island with him before he became a patient. But he seems like the kind of guy to anger ghosts by swearing not to believe.
He seems like exactly the type to infuriate spirits by pissing in a sacred urn or fucking in a graveyard or calling himself their father for daring them to scare him, or really just any of the cocky things that young men on the internet like to do to get attention.
So, maybe the real lesson is to not do things like Ding Dongqi?
Maybe they should not take the initiative? For anything?
Unfortunately, Wang Xi is like a leaf in the river– he goes with the flow.
When he’s wrapped around Bohai, he’s bohemian and free and a little too snarky for his own good. When he’s serving guests, he’s the soft sunshine that will serve drinks with a smile, even at three in the morning with a storm making his calves quake. And when he’s in a group of people that believe that they are 100% in a ghost story and must escape before they unknowingly starve to death or are drained of their qi or violate a hidden taboo?
Well, he goes along with it. Goes along with it while wishing he could run and hide. If only he was better at being a leader… But he’s not, and even with the sun already setting and their stomachs rumbling, the crew chooses not to wait.
“If we wait, maybe that boat burns down overnight.”
…Even if you go now, how do you know that won’t happen anyway? What, the pyromaniac ghosts are going to see that you showed up and run and hide? Where are you sourcing your logic from? Can I see the rulebook, or is it already up your ass?
But if no one else objects, Wang Xi can’t either. He can only say that he’s done his part for the day, and wants to go check on Bohai.
“Good. Make sure he doesn’t say anything precipitous.”
Heh. If I could control Bohai’s mouth so easily, I’d never get out of bed!
Of course, he doesn’t say that either.
He just nods and hurries off to make sure that his grump of a boyfriend hasn’t started drinking anything that is going to blind him. It was cooking wine when he last checked, but there’s nothing that says that his lover can’t have worked his way down to some questionable moonshine or paint thinner in the time it took to track down the director and report back to the captain.
Normally, Bohai has a good palette, but since he’s been reduced to drinking swill, well…
Wang Xi hurries along a little more quickly, pulls his piss-drunk boyfriend out of the cellar, and pushes him into bed. Gives him an eyesight check, because a blind chef would really be too tragic, and then a different kind of check, to apologize for their earlier disagreement.
“Y’er lucky you cute.”
He sighs and undresses him, using charm to trick him into drinking water like a good lad.
“I know. Very lucky. The luckiest.”
“Long as- know.” Drunk as a skunk, Wang Bohai still tries to share with him.
Wang Xi knows. He does. Honest. He just wishes that his luck was enough to carry them all safely through this. But for now, at least it is enough to soothe Wang Bohai and let them fall against one another in sweet love in bed.
—
While Wang Xi is making up with his boyfriend, Shan Haoyu and Zhou Xiwei are wishing they had a clear enough relationship to do the same. It’s always awkward, to deal with trauma so early in a relationship. Especially when the relationship itself is still up in the air.
Unfortunately, neither of them has been brave enough to put a label on what they’re doing– when not being traumatized by the near-death experiences of others, they hang out and hold hands and even, when the mood is right, sometimes kiss–
But they haven’t talked about it. Or the night they shared a bed.
Afterall, Shan Haoyu is sure that he isn’t qualified to be a boyfriend. Zhou Xiwei is sure that he isn’t interesting enough to keep someone’s attention.
In both cases the temporary nature of Zhou Xiwei’s marooning is a Sword of Damocles hanging over them. The wonder of making a connection is tainted by knowing that they’re passing visitors in one another’s world. It makes them both tentative.
Neither has experience, but Zhou Xiwei suspects (and Shan Haoyu knows) that a long-distance relationship won’t work for them. So– rather than get lost in the fantasy of having some sort of proper relationship, they silently steal affection from one another, both afraid that they can’t have more.
There’s an edge of distance between them. A sorrowful foreknowledge of future pain. Especially now that the entire atmosphere of the island has been depressed by Ding Dongqi’s suicidal dash up the mountain, and his dreadful descent from it. The closer they are, the more it will hurt to be parted.
But the attraction is too great to avoid, so instead, there’s this dance– to touch without overstepping, to hope without promising, to fall without admitting it.
A plate of desserts, a pull of the curtain to look towards the other’s window– those are the cautious opening volleys.
Luckily for both of them, Zhou Xiwei’s never been a particularly smart person, when it comes to interpersonal relationships. (Wise men don’t spend years hanging their heart on someone who will never love them back).
Even though he knows that there’s no future, even though he knows that the closer they get, the more it will hurt– Zhou Xiwei can’t change his self-sacrificing romanticism.
He doesn’t stay in the armoire.
After a day of teary moping, he gets himself together and debriefs with his sister and washes his face a few times to make sure he doesn’t look like a panda having an allergic reaction. Well, looks less like one.
And then, for the first time ever, he goes and visits Shan Haoyu in his room, instead of letting Yu’er come to his.
On the way, he thinks he sees a few people headed towards the southern end of the island, but it’s too far to know for sure. Maybe it’s those unmet fishermen finally on their way back after a long catch? Fresh fish would be great– one of the only things that Zhou Xiwei knows how to cook is white fish soup, and he’d love the chance to show his appreciation by helping with more than just dishes and basic cleanup.
Or maybe it’s just someone looking for a change of scenery, to get away from the heaviness of what had happened. Either way, they aren’t heading the same way as him. Whether it’s fish or mystery or a zen fucking retreat, Zhou Xiwei isn’t interested. He just wants to spend some more time with Shan Haoyu, while he can. He wants to thank him for checking in, for being so good, for-
For liking him, and being the silver lining of a day and a trip that by all accounts, should be monstrous.
—
Now that the yacht crew are avoiding the schoolhouse that they’d once nearly taken over with their distillery (er, science experiments) and their reading circles, when they look at the squat brick building, what they see is a haunted campus.
A strange tale that’s about to come alive and drown them all in sea creatures and misery. Any moment now, they’ll hear the clacking of red shoes on the tile, see the white silk noose through the window, be caught by a beauty with no face turning to eyelessly look at them. It’s enough to make you turn to religion!
But even upset and unsettled, they had dared to go grab reference books. As a group.
And during that journey, the building had already started to live down to their new, haunted expectations.
In the 37 steps between the entrance and the library doors, they’d seen shadows move and the stairs decay like peeling flesh. They’d heard creaks that sounded like the moans of the dead, forever interred in the institution-green mint of the grimy walls. Now they’re sure they’re in a ghost story.
But your perceptions shape your world.
When Zhou Xiwei enters the schoolhouse and for the first time goes somewhere other than the kitchen, what he finds is a slightly sad, cold, completely normal place. Charming, even. A well-used building just waiting for a loving hand to come and restore it. The kind of place that lets you see that life has passed it by, with secret loves and dreams etched on the tops of its desks and the stains of young, hopeful fingers dragging across the rails.
For Zhou Xiwei, it’s the kind of place that makes him want to wrap up anyone with the bad luck to spend all their time in someplace that’s turned so lonely. Maybe paint the walls something nice and fresh and soothing.
He wonders why the brothers don’t just live in the dormitories full time.
Maybe the brick makes for better insulation in winter, and they just got used to it?
He’d go crazy in such a sterile place, but maybe the brothers are made of stronger stuff than he is? He walks the halls and counts the windows and knocks on the frame of the door that he thinks corresponds to the second storey room that he’d always peek at before turning in.
There’s a pause– just enough of a pause for him to wonder if he’s chosen the wrong room– and then the door opens. He smiles shallowly at Shan Haoyu, who looks very cute, all surprised and crowned by a crow’s nest of disobedient black hair. Seems he’s not the only one that’s a little out-of-sorts and hiding.
“Hi.”
Shan Haoyu steps out of the room and closes it behind him like a kid caught with his laundry out of the hamper and old sandwich plates left on the nightstand. Zhou Xiwei’s smile grows a little less tepid and he steps into his space. Which has the happy effect of making Yu’er blush very handsomely.
“Hi.” Another soft pause, before Shan Haoyu tries for more words. “I didn’t know you knew where my room was. Are you- okay?”
Now Zhou Xiwei’s the one with something to hide.
After all, counting windows and keeping an eye on when your crush’s lamp is blown out is… probably not a completely normal thing? Or at the very least, not the kind of thing that you should be proud of? Or admit to, without a good amount of drink or torture to pry the words out?
He coughs and focuses on Shan Haoyu’s secrets instead.
“I’m better. Thought maybe I could come and see your place, since you’ve spent so long in my room…”
Shan Haoyu unconsciously widens his stance, like he’s determined to keep Zhou Xiwei from passing. Zhou Xiwei’s surprise (and a flash of hurt?) can’t be hidden quickly enough; almost as soon as it appears, Shan Haoyu is walking back his instinctive rejection and stepping aside.
“Right, sure, of course you can. It’s just… just not much of a place. Not much to see, or places to sit or…” Unwilling to open the door, but more unwilling to push away Zhou Xiwei, Shan Haoyu tries to give him a preventative shot. “…I actually haven’t been here that long-” (lies) “-so I haven’t had much time to make it homey…” (more like, no desire to) “…But I guess you can be my first guest?”
Finally, something truthful.
When Zhou Xiwei steps through the newly unblocked door, he’s the first new person to do so since the school closed down and the entire place was condemned. He’s the only person allowed to see something as vulnerable as Shan Haoyu’s secret burrow.
And burrow is a good word for it.
“…Oh. It’s… got good bones?” Heh. Zhou Xiwei is unfailingly kind. Even when confronted with a ‘bedroom’ that is very clearly a teacher’s office. Unrenovated.
There’s not even a bed, just some blankets laid atop two large teaching desks that have been pushed together to form a sleeping platform. It would look like a depression nest, but those have more signs of life than this does. This is just-
Empty. An uninhabited squat, but Shan Haoyu is evidently living in it.
But if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all– ‘Good bones’ is all Zhou Xiwei can manage to keep awkward silence from settling around them. And technically, it’s not a lie.
The ceilings are high, the window is nice and on a sunny day, must let in plenty of light. The floors look like they’re a nice hardwood that’s just missing a lot of polish. It really could be a fitting place for a young man to live, with some extensive modifications. Loft-style is very chic, Zhou Xiwei is sure of that!
“-I didn’t used to live here. I’m not good at the homemaking stuff.”
Shan Haoyu fiddles with the old record books and dusty shelves and Zhou Xiwei’s heart swells, for this abandoned child that might never have known what it means to have your own room. Even once the other children had left, he’d stayed a visitor, instead of believing he could claim ownership. Instead of realizing that he deserved to make it his own.
Zhou Xiwei claps his hands.
Definitely good bones to work with.
And a chance for Zhou Xiwei to repay Shan Haoyu’s generosity while also getting to spend more time with him. And showing off his caretaking abilities, which is something every man likes doing for their special person. The prospect makes Zhou Xiwei’s eyes sparkle.
“Well, you’re in luck, because I’m so good at it that I’ve spent half my life being made fun of as a housewife in training! And I happen to have a cleared schedule, so lets fucking homemake.”
Everyone knows, interior decorating is a fantastic way to run from your problems and impress your crush. Even before Shan Haoyu says yes, Zhou Xiwei’s lost in all the ways that he can help his Yu’er have the kind of room that he deserves, all the ways he can give him warmth and attention and not have to think about his own fears at all.
Getting lost in the moment-
Sounds fucking wonderful.
Author’s Corner:
On this episode of ‘Go Flip Yourself,’ we’re renovating a charmingly haunted island property, with a budget of absolutely nothing! Meanwhile, the yacht crew are running around with greasepaint on and wrenches that are the wrong size for the bolts they’ll be tightening up.
it feels like while everyone is running for their lives and trying to escape, these two are in their own world being lovey-dovey
Damn Wang Xi is smart ! The crew thinking they’re sneaky ahlala
Lovey-doveying is also a good way to escape I guess. Better than rusty boat ~
Director Xi… you’ve had it rough.
I can’t wait to see what the yacht crew experience. Already they seem to be seeing scary things of their own making.
Thanks for the chapter ! ^^
Aw jeez I can’t wait to see what the island will cough up to Zhou Xiwei look like a homemaking genius. Four poster with a princess canopy? As if I would know what it takes haha I better take notes.