Zhou Xiwei is halfway through making his island-famous strawberry lemonade when Shan Haoyu freezes beside him and everything goes wrong.
One minute, he’s preparing the jug and squeezing lemons while Shan Haoyu cuts strawberries, sweet and domestic and feeding him like they’ve spent years cohabitating, instead of a handful of days. The next?
Shan Haoyu’s managed to cut himself, and his reaction is so strange–
It’s like–
Like he doesn’t care about the deep cut across his thumb, or the red blood that flows into the sink and splatters across the pink flesh of the strawberries, turning them red all the way through. Like all he cares about is how Zhou Xiwei reacts to the blood. Or whatever has made his fingers clumsy and made his neck go so taut.
“Fuck, Yu’er, your- your hand, let me look.” Zhou Xiwei curses and places Shan Haoyu’s hand under the faucet. His questions are rapid-fire, yet filled to the brim with genuine distress:
“What happened? How badly does it hurt? Are you okay?”
Shan Haoyu’s only answer is a distracted hum as he stares out the window above the sink, peering between the leaves of Shan Yutian’s cheerful little plants.
—
Despite the freezing water and the cold awareness that’s creeping into his marrow, Shan Haoyu once more feels protected and warm. And that makes him want to be brave. Makes him want to stride across the field and take risks that he wouldn’t, not even a few weeks ago.
He wants to hold onto this warmth, even if that means walking further into the cold first. His didi is right– they should try to be good, so that they can match Zhou Xiwei’s character.
He doesn’t want Zhou Xiwei to be upset, but he knows enough about his lover- he has a lover – he knows enough about him to know that he’ll be upset regardless– either by Ding Dongqi’s death, which Shan Haoyu can feel just the same as if he’s suffocating in that bed with him– or by that young lady’s wickedly pragmatic choice.
Loving someone, really loving someone, shouldn’t involve so much lying.
He doesn’t want to feel guilty like this.
If he’s going to lay in Zhou-ge’s arms and see God against his palm, then he should meter out his mistruths, limiting them to the absolutely vital. And this isn’t that. Even though Ding Dongqi is a piece of predatory shit, he’s already decided that he shouldn’t die for it. So-
“I think we should go check on Ding Dongqi. Now.”
It’s not poetic enough. It’s not convincing. It’s-
Zhou Xiwei tears a piece of the dishrag, messily wraps his finger, and– heads towards the dorms with Shan Haoyu’s hand still in his. Like just his word is enough, even without a convincing lie or a good reason. Like he trusts him. Just because.
There’s that feeling again, like he’s walking in the sun, as long as he’s walking with Zhou Xiwei.
It’s enough to make him want to save Ding Dongqi.
Which is saying a lot, given the things that asshole thought about his brother and his lover. But thoughts aren’t actions. Just because he can sometimes feel what people are thinking, just because the island has broken him in such a way– it doesn’t mean that he has to always be complicit, or write off their suffering. Especially not when it will sadden Zhou-ge.
Shan Haoyu’s steps speed up.
He won’t interfere in the island’s justice without good reason. But he also doesn’t have to stand by and let the worst outcome win. Ding Dongqi’s already been punished. Twice, if you’re being technical. He doesn’t have to let him die and watch Zhou Xiwei be sad.
He can let him be angry and aware and the kind of savior he’s clearly good enough to be, instead.
—
They enter the dorms just in time to see the back of Xu Mei’s heel, disappearing into her room. Hard to tell from the back, but her gait is shaky enough to raise questions.
They hurry to Zhou Xiwei’s former room and find Xu Wang standing over Ding Dongqi, trembling and sweating like he’s going through withdrawals. Ding Dongqi’s shirt is open. They’re treated to the too-familiar sight of chest compressions against pallid skin.
Redden- shouldn’t it redden and bruise? Why isn’t his skin changing color?
Shan Haoyu doesn’t mean to listen in on Zhou-ge.
Normally, he can’t. Not during the day. Not like this. That’s how he knows Zhou-ge is upset, almost hysterical, even though he’s standing still and holding his hand steady and isn’t even speaking yet. Even though he looks frozen, inside, there’s a torrential sense of wrong building up in this suddenly cramped room.
Shan Haoyu can hear the unspoken panic, the terror that he’s working so hard to hide.
All Shan Haoyu wants to do is undo that. All he wants is for Zhou Xiwei’s inner voice to grow calm and still again, placid enough that no one can listen in on it.
Almost as soon as Shan Haoyu has the thought, the island answers.
Ding Dongqi starts breathing on his own again.
His eyes even open, and there’s a moment too confused to call clarity, but too focused to be mere reflex. Just enough of a moment to let Xu Wang know what he’d almost let happen. Just enough to prove that the asshole isn’t braindead, even if by all accounts, he really should be.
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.
Dead thrice, but who’s counting?
Vegf fcbeut, yfrlvf tlw, Itbe Wlkfl’r rmjaafgfv atbeutar rfaaif yfobgf rajgalcu ab yeyyif eq jujlc. Pa’r ilxf-
Olxf Itbe Wlkfl’r j yfjmt, jybea ab yf tla ys j arecjwl. Pc atbrf olgra wbwfcar bo vgfjv, jii tlr fwbalbcr tjv yffc qeiifv bea, j alvf gfagfjalcu ojgatfg atjc la tjr jcs gluta ab ub. Ccv cbk? Rbk kjr atf wbwfca atja atf tbglhbc rtloafv jcv atf kjafg gertfv obgat, fnfgsatlcu yflcu gfaegcfv lc ugfja kjnfr atja glq jqjga atf mjgfoei mbcragemalbcr jibcu atf rtbgf.
Shan Haoyu doesn’t need to be psychic to turn his body and prop Zhou Xiwei up as his legs give out. He kisses his neck, just beneath his ear, and soothes him, even though he’s never been very good at comforting people.
“Alive. Alive and I think he even focused on you a bit. You must be his lucky star.”
No one but Shan Haoyu and Shan Yutian know how true that really is.
Unfortunately, they aren’t in a two-person world. Shan Haoyu can’t keep kissing him, and he can’t lead him to the side of the bed and let him trace those red marks with his own hands. Because there’s still a near-murderer in the room, looking at his hands like he’s not sure if he’s miraculous or damned.
They’ll have to deal with that first.
As for Xu Mei?
He can’t interfere with that. It’s- to avert disaster is fine. To deny justice-
Even if he wanted to, if he tried, who knows what would happen?
—
Xu Wang doesn’t understand. He- His cousin- She definitely-
CPR doesn’t fucking work like that, okay?!
“Old Ding! Come on, back up, you’re overdue for teasing me!”
But other than that brief and pain-lanced first look, Ding Dongqi is past responding. His breathing, mercifully steady despite his dip into death, is the only reply he can give to Zhou Xiwei’s somewhat childish pleas. Which means that Zhou Xiwei can only direct his questions towards Xu Wang.
The ‘miracle doctor’ of their little group of castaways. What a fucking joke, what a charlatan.
He doesn’t know how they reached this point.
He’s relieved. He’s also incredibly guilt-stricken. Especially when Young Master Zhou starts effusively thanking him. And blaming himself. The way a good person would. Fuck, he swears, he doesn’t know why he let her, why he didn’t, how he could possibly-
“Thank God you were here! His family, they’ll definitely kneel for you!” Zhou Xiwei scrubs his fingers nervously across his scalp, looking like a worried hedgehog rolling out of its burrow. It would be cute if the circumstances weren’t so grim.
“But- but what the fuck happened? I promise, I did everything you said, and flipped him like he was an omelette to adjust the pillows and– oh fuck, did I do it wrong? Did I squish something or- oh fuck-”
Behind Zhou Xiwei’s back, Shan Haoyu stares down Xu Wang like he knows everything.
Like he’ll be consigning himself to hell if he dares allow Zhou Xiwei to carry even an ounce of unearned blame. But he doesn’t have to worry. Being a bystander to something so terrible has already used up all of Xu Wang’s deviance, and left him adrenaline-sick and hollowed out.
He can’t even worry about the curse.
He can only shake his head and steady himself against the wooden bedrail.
“No. You- you were perfect. It’s my fault. I told everyone to keep an eye on him, but when you left, I… let myself be distracted by my cousin, and Young Master Ding started to choke while I was… neglecting my duty. I’m to blame. It’s my fault, I promise.”
Just mine. I’m a man. I could have stopped her. I knew better.
Feeling guilty doesn’t mean he’s ready to sell out MeiMei. And technically, if he squints, what he’s said is close enough to true. And close enough to convince someone as trusting as Young Master Zhou, who is already looking like he’s thinking of ways to comfort-
“Is that why his feeding tube is gone?” Shan Haoyu’s coffin-cold voice cuts through the cozy, understandable lie that Xu Wang is selling. It also seems to disperse some of the haze from Zhou Xiwei’s eyes.
Fuck.
Well, sometimes the only way through it is through it. He grimaces.
“Yes. That- we had to pull it in order to start the rescue attempt.”
“Why did she take it? To sanitize?”
That settles it.
There’s no reason for Shan Haoyu to use that biting tone, unless he knows. Even if her actions were wrong, Xu Mei was right after all– the locals really do know more than they let on. Might not even be humans. Puppets or ghosts or underworld judges, more like. And now they’ve managed to piss them off.
If this is a test, the two of them have definitely managed to fail it.
Knowing makes it more important to hold the line. And harder to do so.
At least they’re not alone. For some reason, whatever or whoever Shan Haoyu is, he’s most human when he’s around Zhou Xiwei.
As long as Young Master Zhou is around, everyone is always covered in an air of civility that precludes bloodshed. He’s their little totem of peace, their little bonfire keeping the wolves at bay.
It’s hard to look him in the eyes and keep lying.
Xu Wang tidies Young Master Ding’s mussed clothes and silently apologizes before running off to grab his cousin and abort this already-failed, obviously-wrong plan. But he can sense that he won’t be allowed to leave without a word.
He looks up, and tells the truth: “I’ll go get it. Get it and help Young Master Ding get well. I swear it.”
Shan Haoyu looks at him long and hard, before barely inclining his head.
Thank God for that. Xu Wang hurries off.
Not too late, not too late, we can still undo it.
—
“Was he lying?”
“…Not that last part.”
Shan Haoyu sits Zhou Xiwei down on the spare bed.
“But the rest of it? He was lying, right? He lied, and somehow you could tell, just like you knew something was wrong with Ding Dongqi, so you-?” Zhou Xiwei’s voice trails off in that way that Shan Haoyu had always feared, but- but the tone is different. Better than he had any right to expect.
There’s plenty of emotions mixed in, but he’s wondrous more than he’s scared, and sad more than he’s angered. He’s still holding his hand.
Still holding his hand.
Even knowing there’s something not right, even knowing that he’s been keeping secrets– they’re still holding hands. Zhou-ge hasn’t thrown him away. He’s barely even flinched.
Shan Haoyu feels the world brighten, and the strain on his held-aloft heart lessen. It’s enough for him to volunteer more information.
“I knew something bad was happening. The rest is obvious if you’ve seen it before.”
And I’ve seen it over and over. Seen people out for themselves. Seen wickedness hidden behind ‘necessity’ and even more than that– seen people that are just weak enough to allow evil to be committed on their behalf. I’ve seen what the world does to them, and what they do to the world.
But I’ve never seen anyone try to get better. I’ve never seen anyone arrest their descent. Never seen mercy as an option. …Until you appeared, and planted this barren place with your goodness.
Shan Haoyu thinks it might be a little early in their relationship, to admit all that.
Instead, he accepts the way that Zhou Xiwei nods along, head full of thoughts he’s not ready to share. He accepts it, when Zhou Xiwei lightly drops his hand and starts fussing over Ding Dongqi, as if to make up for what the others had done to him while he was off making them drinks.
He rejoices, when Zhou Xiwei nods his head towards the now-empty bed on the other side of the narrow aisle, allowing him to stay and sit. Not rejecting him. Still together, just with some distance to digest.
Somehow, it feels better than reassurance that everything’s fine, or endless questions that would make Shan Haoyu’s head ache. It feels more real? More them? It’s the easiest thing in the world, to sit and watch Zhou Xiwei, instead of bearing witness to whatever the island has in store for a murderess.
Shan Haoyu is tired to death of vengeance.
—
Xu Wang knocks urgently at her locked door; Xu Mei calmly shimmies through the window.
She doesn’t want to talk about it.
It’s already done. Now is the time to reap the benefits. If she backs down now, it would be murder. If she keeps going, it’s a noble, necessary sacrifice. The kind that’s made every day, in times or war or famine or just natural disasters.
Young Master Ding just drew the short straw.
And she’s just the one that was strong enough to bear admitting it to save the rest of them.
That’s all.
She runs to the boat house. Runs fast enough that no one can catch her. Yet she swears– with every footfall, she hears someone coming from behind, chasing her down– but every time she’s foolish enough to turn her head, there’s just the sea of short grass. Not even Xu Wang in the distance.
Dumb bastard is still probably whisper-pleading through her door.
She’s doing this for him and much as herself. It’s not selfish! It’s- it’s heroic. Once they’re back home and he sees his mother again, he’ll thank her. She’s sure of it. Once they’re back home, she can call this a bad dream and never think of it again.
She runs harder, all the way to the vine-covered boathouse. No one else is around– weird, but it’s a turn of good luck. When the hose was ruined, they must have run off to lick their wounds. After all, that kind of despair–
Well, it can make you do crazy things.
She gets that.
It’s good that she can work on rigging it up without them. Once the tube is taped on, no one will care where she got it. Even if they know, they won’t dare to ask and confirm it.
If no one asks, it’s almost like it never really happened.
—
Past the crooked door and across the half-rotted wooden boards, Xu Mei approaches the boat that’s become her symbol of hope. And despair. She runs her fingers across the dented hull and feels all the spots where the glossy coat has been blasted away by sand and time and the scrub of getting long-dead barnacles off the lopsided waterline.
Fu-
Xu Mei sucks the bead of blood from her finger. Looks like they missed a piece of razor sharp shell. Not surprising, working on such a large project in such poor light…
The pain’s a good focuser. She pulls the still-slimy tubing from where it’s been messily shoved in her pockets and sends up a little prayer that it will fit well enough to get the job done.
Now to just pull the ladder and hoist herself up-
The tube slithers from between her fingers and falls into the black water just beneath the boat.
“FUCK!” Xu Mei swings her arms down to try to catch the tail of the thing, but it’s too late. All she manages to do is pull her shoulder damn-near out of socket. “This fucking island!”
She’s sure her grip was solid!
Xu Mei hops down from the ladder’s rungs and plops herself into the hip-deep water. Water under a fucking piered boathouse. Gross. Probably covered in barnacles that are going to cut her up if she’s not stupidly careful. Which is just par for the course on
This. Fucking. Island.
But she killed for that little bit of plastic. She’s not going to give it up. Not over the possibility of getting cut.
Xu Mei carefully squats and flutters her fingers through the water, looking for the familiar roundness of something manmade and fresh, in this place that’s full of decayed natural materials. Shell, the squish of rotted wood, the cold of something metallic– maybe a lost anchor? Or a bait bin that’s long forgotten? Tubing, tubing, where is it? It’s plastic, and plastic floats, so why the hell is it gone now?
Xu Mei squats lower, deep enough that she’s damn near kneeling. If the fucking thing has somehow sunk from the weight of Ding Dongqi’s undigested lunch, that’s fine– she’ll just blindly grope through the mud until she finds it. She won’t leave without it. They can’t leave without it.
Failure’s not an option.
On her sixth increasingly frazzled pass through the slime, Xu Mei catches the edge of something- Yes! That’s it! She tries to pinch it into her palm, tries to grip it. Relief turns to wild despair, when something tugs it away- No, where did it–
She splashes forward, trying to grab it back, always just shy of being able to grab-
Fuck!
Fuck!
Almost–
It’s like catching a slippery fish! You can’t do it unless you fully commit!
Xu Mei belly flops into the water, going under and propelling herself like a catfish through the silt. Opening her eyes isn’t an option in a bay this full of salt and filth and fucking metallic particulates, but it’s enough to be faster than whatever’s pulling the tube.
She catches it. Yes!
Once bitten, twice shy– Xu Mei wraps the tubing around her wrist, twining it into a bracelet that can’t slip away. Twines it and pushes off, ready to pull herself back up to the dock–
Something catches around her waist.
Author’s Corner:
Shan Haoyu is willing to change, and Zhou Xiwei seems willing to accept magical things, but a bloodstained island…Xu Wang, can’t you have found your conscience a little earlier? For everyone’s sake?
uto is not liking this
Xu Mei: [Sings Cover of ‘Sweet but Psycho’]
Uto: ‘It’s gonna be a no from me, dog.’
Ding Dongqi: [can we talk about my treatment? please?]
Thanks for the chapter! ^^
💖💖💖
Everyone is like “Uto is an horror island” but if these people weren’t running to their death, pretty much good place to have holidays. You have food, a little garden, some scenery. A bed. I think Uto just like lazy people. Do nothing, be well xD
Yeah– as mentioned elsewhere, this kind of ‘team building’ and ‘unplugged’ retreat is something that you can spend tens of thousands on. Unfortunately, it’s a kaleidoscope where the glitter and paper is made from the intentions of the viewer. You load it up with ugliness, and ugliness is what you are going to see multiplied and refracted into a hellscape.
But if you’re a good child, you can fill it with pink bubbles and primitive handicrafts instead.
What a relief, to tell Zhou Xiwei that much truth and have it accepted. It makes all the difference, between letting someone in or shutting them out. Since he had already figured out so much on his own and didn’t hesitate to ask, blowing him off could have been the mousetrap in the cookie cupboard.
Okay, it’s been half a dozen chapters already that I feel like this, but… what if Shan Haoyu is the island’s will? His trauma and unconscious desire for justice lashing out blindly? And when it has enough direction, enough motivation not to be blind – we see some miracles…
At least I’m not the only one thinking this.
After all, cursed places usually are born from ppl doing cursed things on them first and others suffering from it.