Shan Haoyu doesn’t love hearing that Zhou Xiwei gets bullied.
About anything. By anyone.
But he really loves the idea of having a home– a home because Zhou-ge’s fingerprints will be all over it, and even if he someday wakes up and leaves him, Shan Haoyu will be able to comfort himself with tiny bits of proof that he existed. That for at least a moment, before he knew better, Zhou-ge cared about him. Wanted to spend time with him. Wanted him to be comfortable.
Any room that Zhou-ge touches, he promises to never tear down. He’ll carefully preserve every shred. Even if he has one of his fits again, he’ll make sure that he doesn’t let his fury touch any of Zhou-ge’s traces. Just like he does with A-Tian’s domain.
He’ll preserve these bits of perfection.
The curse pushed to the back of his mind, Shan Haoyu wholeheartedly accepts Zhou Xiwei’s help (attention) and even volunteers to run off to the water boiler to get the first of the cleaning supplies. After all, it’s getting dark, and Zhou-ge doesn’t know the building the way he does-
Zhou Xiwei seems to have the same awareness, but he comes to a different conclusion.
“Too late to start such a big project. Morning will be better, and we can even open the window and see about getting a fresh breeze in without worrying about a chill.”
Makes sense. Shan Haoyu deflates, but nods in agreement and tries to hide his disappointment. “Of course. Tomorrow works.” Except for a few hazy years in his childhood, he’s always lived like this. Another perfunctory night won’t-
“For tonight, you’ll just have to bunk with me again!”
Huh? Oh? Oh!
Shan Haoyu breaks into a grin that he can’t hide at all, going from kicked puppy to adoring labrador in the time it takes Zhou Xiwei to finish his sentence. He runs his fingers through his hair and nods in a very adult fashion, but, well, that silly look is still on his face.
Whatever else he might be, at the moment, he’s just a sunshine child.
And then Zhou Xiwei leans forward and kisses him. Not long, or soft, or deep– just a quick peck of smiling mouth to smiling mouth. The kind of kiss you might give your long term boyfriend as you picked out new linens for your first shared apartment. Something unstudied and completely natural.
It steals Shan Haoyu’s breath away.
The idea of affection being routine, routine for him? Well, it does things that even the most fiery makeout might not accomplish. After being trapped in the dark for so long, Shan Haoyu has always wanted lightness, and he’s always wanted belonging. He’s always wanted someone like Zhou Xiwei to care about him. He’s rendered temporarily dumb by actually receiving such attention.
And when Zhou Xiwei realizes that he’s once more somehow executed a ‘stealing the maiden’ play, he makes the mature decision to hurry away. Also mute, heh. Shan Haoyu, blushing up a storm, follows quickly after to make sure that he doesn’t trip over any unclean things on the way to the bed.
Their bed. At least for tonight.
In a place where no one can see, the tiniest crack appears in Shan Haoyu’s skin.
But for the first time, it’s not inky black. It’s golden. Just for a moment, just a breath and then it disappears, but if Shan Yutian could see it…
Well, his smile would put the sunset to shame. And that’s really saying something.
—
Zhou Xiwei stops at the schoolhouse’s entryway and gasps.
“Oh my god. Look at how– ai, this kind of view, I kind of can understand why you would stay here.”
It really is remarkable.
It’s also a meteorological anomaly that makes Captain Li question his knowledge, and would make any proper atmospheric scientist hurry off to get recordings and then write a paper.
It’s a love letter from the island, meant for Zhou Xiwei but enjoyed by everyone: There’s no red– not even the hint of scarlet to remind people of bloody scenes. Instead, pinks and tangerines and peaches are painted across the sky, stretching out in lazy, almost wavy rays that reflect off the water and are absorbed by the black sand and turn the entire scene into a breathtaking tapestry.
The island is showing off and trying to make up to him again. Guess it finally figured out that public executions don’t make people eager to stick around.
Sentient or not, he can’t lose out on courtship to a fucking landmass– so Shan Haoyu reaches out and holds his Zhou-ge’s hand as they watch the rippling sunset. They hold hands and the sun pauses in the sky, the sunset lingering as long as possible without making Zhou Xiwei suspicious.
The two of them linger in turn, long enough that Shan Haoyu’s timid hand holding turns to a soft lean, his side pressed against Zhou Xiwei’s like they’re a real couple, and not just two people too afraid to actually go for it. They linger until sunset gives way to the purple ombre of twilight. They linger until Shan Yutian joins them, eyes full of gossip but mouth cleverly shut.
Still, his presence seems to jostle something loose in Zhou Xiwei, who looks at Shan Haoyu and, seeing him totally at ease, tightens his grip instead of letting go. Progress. Almost a declaration, if you squint at it and make allowances for shyness.
“Good evening, da-ge, Zhou-ge.”
“Good evening.”
Shan Yutian grabs Shan Haoyu’s free arm and puts it through a woven bag as he explains, “I think everyone is still a little shaken, so instead of a family dinner, I just did sandwiches and picnic things. Everything you need is in there, you can have a little two person camp meal. Already delivered to the others, no need to wash or worry, just bring the dishes back whenever’s convenient tomorrow.”
Zhou Xiwei opens his mouth, only to close it again. Huh.
Seems Shan Yutian has cleverly answered all his would-be questions? And dodged his pathological need to do chores in return for every little bit of hospitality? He’s never felt so seen!
(Shan Haoyu once more reflects on having an excellent little brother).
But excellence can also be challenging.
“Oh! A-Tian, do you also want to come sleep at the dorms?”
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.
Shan Haoyu: ….
Vtjc Tealjc: ???
Kkb ygbatfgr. Kkb gfwjgxjyis ogjcx ojmlji fzqgfrrlbcr. Zjxfr Itbe Wlkfl oewyilcuis offi ilxf tf’r wlrrfv rbwfatlcu.
“Uh, you know? Because Yu’er’s room is a little sparse, and we’re going to start making it more homey starting tomorrow, so since you live in the school building as well, I thought you might also want to come over.” In case your room is equally uninviting and drab.
Coafg j yfoevvifv qjerf, Vtjc Tealjc ijeutr vfilutafvis jcv rtjxfr tlr tfjv. “Zjxlcu ws ygbatfg tjnf j clmf gbbw lr ugfja! Ktjcx sbe Itbe-uf. Dea P’w cba tlw, jcv P vfolclafis wjvf ws rqjmf kjgw jcv mbhs j ibcu alwf jub. Zs qijcar klii ufa bea bo rbgar lo P’w cba jgbecv ab rlcu ab atfw. Dea atjcxr obg boofglcu!”
A third-party observer would probably find it funny: Two people thanking a visitor for offering them space in a place that already belongs to them. But it’s not the rooms that are important.
It’s the radical idea of someone caring enough to worry about them– not just about their survival, or their ability to help avoid pits, but to worry about their comfort. To treat them as real people, real friends, maybe even real…
Like an obedient young wife, Shan Yutian points at the packed dinner, waves, and then runs back into the school building before he can dampen the room of his da-ge and his da-ge’s almost-boyfriend.
Good lad.
—
Perhaps sensing that she suddenly has competition in the sibling rankings, Zhou Xiting is even more accommodating. Seeing her brother and her brother’s person walking across the field, this late at night, she very cleverly gathers her toiletries and clothing for the morning along with a blanket and disappears into the spare room that she had started quietly preparing, the very first time that she woke up and saw XiXi wrapped around one of their hosts.
Unfortunately, she isn’t the most organized person, and has to run back to grab her toothbrush. And XiXi hasn’t learned about the romanticism of slow walks in the moonlight, because the three of them all end up in the hallway at the same time.
Wonderful.
She freezes. XiXi takes one look at her expression and arrives at the correct conclusion.
It’s impossible to see his blush in this kind of dim lighting, but she can make out the ‘come back’ that he mouths perfectly well. Bah. Don’t most young men want time alone with their sweethearts? Doesn’t XiXi want to do the kinds of things that siblings have to vanish to get done?
Not her, but surely someone has given him the necessary talks?
Hating iron for not becoming steel, she still nods and goes to brush her teeth. By the time she makes it back from her marathon toothbrushing and even braiding her hair and scrubbing her nails and doing a pseudo steam mask thanks to the piping hot water–
By then, her didi is still on his best behavior. Shan Haoyu’s lips don’t even look red.
Just tragic.
She bundles herself up like a silkworm and makes a great show of turning her back on their romantic little dinner and putting a pillow over her head. Her brother might be forcing her to be a lightbulb, but she can do her best to smother her brightness in the hope of him making a little more progress.
After all, their time here isn’t unlimited. He has to seize the initiative!
Maybe tomorrow, she can give him a crash course on dating.
Just the basics, like– dates usually only involve two people, how to recognize (and accept wingmanning), fuck, maybe they even need to go over things like saying ‘I like you.’ Being gentlemanly is one thing, but turning into a block of wood is something else! Given how he’s acting tonight, he really might need remedial lessons.
From her!
Someone that’s never made it more than six months with anyone, but compared to his grade school moves, she’s a bonafide expert. What a bleak state of affairs. She falls asleep still hoping that her brother might discover some deeply-buried confidence and pin the boy to the wall.
At least a little.
—
Shan Haoyu lays in bed with a silly look on his face.
Just like before, he’s shirtless and shameless in the way he cuddles up to Zhou Xiwei for warmth. Better than before, because this time, in the quiet darkness, Zhou Xiwei softly kisses him. Keeps kissing him, like he’s finally got the time to learn– like they can learn together, how to map one another’s preferences and kiss like adults would.
Getting kisses at all was great.
This is better.
It’s better, when Zhou Xiwei’s frozen hand finally moves, ever so cautiously, against his waist. He doesn’t dip lower, doesn’t go anywhere that Shan Haoyu longs for, but just the way his thumb brushes against the small scar above his hip is enough to set him on fire– to press against him and kiss more eagerly. To forget his worry about not being good enough at this.
He’s close enough to feel certain changes in their bodies, which embolden him to place his own hands against Zhou Xiwei’s tight stomach and revel in the conquest, when his Zhou-ge hisses and lifts off the bed and away from his lips just long enough to pull off his own shirt.
For them to finally be skin against skin.
Zhou Xiwei is so beautiful, all confident and bare like this.
Shan Haoyu feels like he’s burning. Like after years of nothing, all the coldness inside his bones has turned to liquid gold, and he’s radiating delirious desire, as he feels wanted. Wanted and-
And in need of air.
They pull away from another, bodies trembling and breath intermingling. It’s dark now, but they’re close enough to get lost in one another’s bright eyes. Neither one of them is operating on anything but soft instinct, but for once, their instincts pay off– the person they like likes them back, the bed is warm, and-
Shan Haoyu wants to end every night just like this.
He leans forward and takes the initiative to kiss Zhou Xiwei, and to murmur ‘Goodnight, Zhou-ge’ against his lips. He leans forward enough that he can feel the little shudder that rolls through his darling at the intimate call, and the tantalizing way their bodies are just barely entangled with one another, from ankle to belly.
Shan Haoyu feels a strange sort of power– toothless and warm, at the idea that he might be able to affect Zhou Xiwei even a fraction as much as Zhou Xiwei affects him. That instead of just wanting, he can be wanted in return. It’s a powerful feeling. Enough to send him into sweet and strange pleasure-chasing dreams.
But on the island, dreams are shared things. And tonight, no matter how much he wants to get lost in dreams of Zhou-ge continuing to touch him like he has been– he’s fated for disappointment.
—
In the dream, three thieves in black run riot across the island.
They don’t follow the old paths. They don’t have the gait of those that belong here, and they don’t taste like old memories. Their movement is fresh, even if their destination is one that Shan Haoyu is all too familiar with.
The boat to nothing.
He too, once thought it was a means of salvation. After? He, A-Tian, and Director Xi worked hard to hide it away so that others wouldn’t make the same foolish choices as they had. After all, it’s a miracle that he’d been washed back to the beach, instead of falling into the depths.
But that was a one-time piece of luck.
Everyone else who has ever tried to escape on it? Misery and madness.
But some things can’t be stopped. Like a tethered ghost, Shan Haoyu watches the three of them break the rusty lock to the ramshackle tin boathouse. Listens to the way their breath catches, when the creak of the hinges seems loud enough to travel all the way back to the dormitory. He shakes his head at their relief.
As if anything but a scream could travel that far. They don’t even notice the creeping pervert that’s following their scent along the beach, bringing putrid ruin closer and closer to their newfound ‘safe haven.’ He watches them, covetous and unclean, from a distance.
Once in the boathouse, the adventurers finally turn on their flashlights, and Shan Haoyu gets a look at the would-be thieves: Di Qing, Xu Mei, and Xu Wang.
A shame.
That Xu Wang guy seemed decent enough, when he was showing him the medical supplies.
But the island will do as it wishes, and nothing good ever happens to those who try to leave without permission. And once that filthy crab gets someone’s scent, he’s a fucking nuisance across every patch of sand.
As a ghost visiting a dream, Shan Haoyu doesn’t have the burden of autonomy. He’s just along for the ride, as they make the same mistakes as those that have come before. He wishes for them to be more perceptive, but they aren’t.
They check the same janky engine.
Miss the same scorch marks. Overlook the same blood, hidden under patches of damp earth. They shake the same cans of adulterated fuel and cheaply-recycled motor oil. Miss the fingernail marks against the fiberglass floor and the smell of decomposition in the long-empty catch tanks below deck.
He watches them have the same unearned sense of confidence in the vessel, and their ability to fix it up. Poor sods. Poor everyone, stuck in a cycle that can’t be broken, with warnings that will never be heeded.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
At least this time when he wakes up, it’s to feel Zhou Xiwei vibrant and brilliant against him, instead of the cold emptiness of his makeshift bed. That’s different. Better. Worth trying again.
—
If his world can be different, maybe their world can be as well.
It’s been a long time since he made more than a token effort to avert disaster. But Zhou Xiwei has helped inject hope back into the monotony of his existence, and he wants to be better. He wants to be a source of light, just like Zhou Xiwei is, even if he knows that he’ll never be as forgiving or as helpful as his Zhou-ge is.
Still, he’s willing to try.
That’s why the next morning, he knocks on the doors of the three rooms being used by the yacht crew, and invites them to breakfast, as if he doesn’t realize that their shunning of meals is intentional.
“Oh? Alright…sure. Thank you. We’ll get ready and be out in a moment.”
Sure enough, they’re too cautious to tear faces completely, and haven’t decided if the island’s inhabitants are collaborators, or fellow hostages. When given a flat-out invitation, they won’t say no. They’ll just gulp and share worried looks over it, but they’ll follow along. That’s a good sign. It means they might still be early enough in their ‘solving’ to be persuaded away from idiotic ambitions.
Shan Haoyu knows–
You don’t leave the island. You wait for judgment. You accept your sentence. You’re released, when and if the island decides on it. As someone that’s never been allowed to leave, Shan Haoyu understands the importance of accepting the island’s will, even if you can’t understand it.
As someone that has watched six cycles of divine punishment, he’s witnessed the island’s treatment of those who try to take shortcuts.
He’s seen the judgements levied against those who let their worst selves fester, as uncertainty leads to twisted mentalities. To want to survive is human. To do anything to survive is beastly, and the island has never been a vegetarian. Once you’re judged unworthy-
Well, what should happen, happens.
But they survived their first night with the boat, so there should still be time. That’s why Shan Haoyu’s sure to sit close enough to them that they can ask him anything they want. That’s why he’s sure to ‘casually’ chat with his brother about their boiler and their tools, so that these people with foolish ideas know that he’s a good resource.
As soon as they open their mouths, he’ll do his best to guide them towards the hidden problems with the vessel. But the more he talks, the more silent that entire side of the table grows. Mistrust rolls off them in waves, and in the end, they hurry off, half-fed, and completely unenlightened.
Shan Haoyu’s eyes dim.
—
“Do you think they know?”
“Is Chef a drunk? Of course they know! We need to redouble our efforts.”
Xu Wang bites his lips.
His continuing care of Ding Dongqi means he’s been less involved than the others, and while he agrees that there’s something very wrong with the island, he’s not sure the right move is to go against it. Going to take a look is fine– but he’s not sure that they should dedicate all their energy towards that boat. It gives him a bad feeling. A feeling similar to that tentacle.
It’s a philosophical question– When facing a tiger, do you run at it with your bare hands, or slowly back away and hope it’s full enough not to follow you?
Xu Wang knows his answer. It’s the same as Wang Xi’s.
Wait. Wait and hope. Oh, and Bohai’s in their camp too, though he seems to think the tiger is a hallucination? But they’ll still take his votes. But the others aren’t convinced. With Wang Xi and Wang Bohai on coma watch this morning, the Coalition for Caution is particularly weak.
Engineer Di, who had once seemed the most steady, is now the one leading the charge towards full-fledged escapism. Maybe that head injury has had long-lasting effects on him.
And with Captain more or less backing Di Qing, the idea of anyone else on the crew refusing seems impossible. They might not be ‘on charter’ anymore, but they’ve worked with one another for several years now, and the chain of command is not easily overcome. To disagree still feels like mutiny.
Especially in an emergency.
Still, there’s a feeling in Xu Wang’s gut that tells him that this morning wasn’t a test, so much as a warning, and that the warning isn’t malicious. In which case… Really, even if they want to escape, maybe they should hear what the locals have to say?
“They’ve never done anything to hurt us. I think we should try to figure out what they’re getting at.”
Engineer Di is at least logical enough to consider it, finger rubbing across the new scar on his forehead.
“He did mention something at the start– karma? That everyone should be careful? Your patient took it as a threat, but perhaps it’s a clue.” A few steps later, Di Qing shakes his head and continues, “But if it was– if that talk of engines today was something more– then he’s either unwilling to go against whatever is at work here, or unable. Not a great help in either case.”
Wang Xi had come to the same conclusion, but he still feels like they’re missing something. Just like that tentacle on the floor, just like the damage to the radio tower that they’ve all but ignored– it feels like there’s something there. A hidden pattern that they’re overlooking.
“…What if they’re stuck here too?”
“No one left behind. As soon as we have a way out, they’re welcome to come along.” Di Qing isn’t a monster. Even if he’s not sure, he won’t ignore people in need. But not everyone has the same collaborative feeling-
“Fuck that!” Xu Mei stamps her foot and speaks up. “Di Qing, just because there are no women on their side doesn’t mean we should lay down our vigilance. Subterfuge and nasty tricks can be executed by men just as well, and you can’t tell me that they aren’t the weirdest part of this island!”
Oh. That’s not a good direction for the conversation to head in.
And the worst part is, it’s his cousin.
Xu Wang knows better than most that she’s very calm normally– but when she explodes, it’s after extensive stewing, and the chances of winning a verbal confrontation are pretty much nil. Her favorite hobby is to have practice arguments with herself!
Sure enough, she starts beautifully dismantling all talk of trust, cooperation, and the ‘benefit of the doubt.’ She points out every flaw that they’ve been accidentally or intentionally avoiding:
“The food– you’ve seen their plot, you’ve seen what we’re eating. It doesn’t match up! That ice cream on the first day– where did it come from? A cellar is a cellar, not a magical portal to the polar regions. And that surnamed Ding– he feuds with the elder, apparently about touching the younger, and the very same day, a jellyfish nearly makes him a eunuch? And Xu Wang!” Oh fuck, here it comes. “Didn’t you say that he was trying for some self-comfort? You’re telling me the very first time he has the chance to be lecherous again, he just happens to have that sort of accident?”
He did tell her that. And now-
“If there’s a ghost island, there’s ghosts on it. Those are the rules. I bet you anything that those three have so much food because they don’t actually eat anything, because they’re all already dead. Do you really want to take corpses out into the ocean with us?”
“But they helped us…” Xu Wang shivers, but still weakly tries to take a stand.
His cousin isn’t having it.
“Maybe they need time to digest us. Just like killing a pig– you wouldn’t want all the meat at once.”
As someone that had bacon with his potatoes this morning, Xu Wang does not appreciate her metaphor. At all.
He also doesn’t appreciate that everyone else looks convinced.
From old-school, white-haired Captain Li to bitchy but competent Fang Daiyu to human computer Di Qing, every last one is convinced. It’s just him and the lovebirds, and shit, maybe if they were here, even they would be won over.
His last effort is the merest token–
“I just… don’t feel any malice from them. But I feel malice from the ocean.”
That’s the truth. But it can’t stand up to so many reasonable objections. He can’t help but feel that they’re all going to talk themselves right into exactly the kind of horror story that they’re trying to get out of, but it’s too early in the morning for him to know how to convince them.
He can only think harder, and hope that heaven has mercy on them. Maybe send a sign as good as Xu Mei’s analysis had been? Or maybe the grocery ship? That would be even better! That would neatly solve all of it.
Author’s Corner: I’ve finally untangled some issues with the plot– although I think there are still some pacing and tonal issues in the first 15 chapters, I think I learned a lot, and that I’ve found the reason!!!
I wanted to write horror, but I really can’t bear it in this form, hah. Even my bad characters, I don’t want to cut out at the roots (or if I do, I certainly can’t bear to do it to all of them!) I believe that when I write horror in the future, I’ll need to do it as an Infinite Flow or Quick Transmigration, where I have many fodder to pass through and try not to get attached to. Maybe after a few rounds of such slaughter, I can try again in a single-world format, but not before.
The good news is, I’m a lot more pleased and ‘at home’ with the story from this point on. I think mystery and thriller with some horror elements, is the path forward, and will keep me from getting hung up on worrying this isn’t horror enough. To that end, I’ve removed the horror tag from the site.
In celebration of untangling, I’ll also switching to the same update schedule as I held for Guide to Falling– three times a week (Tuesday, Friday, Sunday)! 
Author’s Theater:
Zhou Xiwei: No more horror? Awesome! Sunshine and puppies and sex! Not at the same time obviously, but I’m delighted by this switching to a sweet slice of life story! Everyone can be happy together and we can drop all the foreshadowing of big bad things!
Author: Is anyone going to tell him? I’m going to tell him…
Shan Haoyu: Don’t you dare.
Shan Yutian: …But speaking of puppies…
did uto show shan haoyu the dream? looks like it’s not first time either… was it what happened the night or a prediction?
Uto can show the past, or the present, but never the future~
You can think of it as the island having the ability to let inhabitants see what it sees, most easily when their defenses are lowered because they’re unconscious or sleeping.
I support your change in mentality if you feel that is good for the story !
I must admit I also got quite attached to some characters, it would be hard to see them die…
Thanks for the chapter, and happy untangling day!! 🎊
I’m scared with any amount of horror things anyway. Do what make you happy with your story ~ and the author note always sent me in stitches thank youuuu
Well I for one am happy to go along on this ride wherever you take us! Happy that this change means more chapters per week 😎
You are the best author so far I’ve found who’s so so good at soft intimacy and describing feelings without it seeming soppy, all the little pushes and pulls in a relationship. I am in love.
Well if we’re going to establish a new civilization instead of everyone dying grisly deaths, then we’ll probably need a new preacher – Ding Dongqi?