Cold.
That’s the word, the sensation, that freezes Zhou Xiwei. The ocean, this ocean, shouldn’t be so cold. Even when he put his feet in this morning, it wasn’t close to this, and the sun shouldn’t make such a difference? Right? He shouldn’t be in the water. He doesn’t even like swimming. He’s not wearing a bathing suit, he’s–
Sinking?
It takes longer than it should, for Zhou Xiwei to even process the chain of events that sees his biggest problem turn from being trapped in a room with someone whose feelings don’t match his– to drowning, while wearing a skirt.
What a way to go, ai.
He doesn’t know how he makes it to the surface.
It doesn’t feel like something he does. Maybe it’s impulse. Maybe it’s–
Jie! Song Bai!
He doesn’t know where they are. He needs to find them.
Against the sluggishness of his own limbs, his mind sharpens. Driven by the desperate purpose of someone that knows what it means to lose those you love, he propels himself forward, looking for signs of the two people he refuses to let go of. He fights the cold and his confusion and uses the air that’s been gifted into his lungs by something he doesn’t understand, and he tries to make sense of the swirling confusion all around him. The taste of the salt, the bite of the cold, the–
Fuck, at least his outfit is skimpy enough that he’s not weighed down by it. –The gallows humor fades away, when he thinks about his jie, tangled up in sheets and a comforter, for all he knows, sinking–
He flails around and looks for her, for him, for anyone, but it’s almost impossible on a moonless night. Fuck! Aren’t ships meant to catch on fire when they sink? Fuel lines, or whatever? So why can’t he get a little fire, just enough to show him where to swim, to show him someone to save, even though he’s not capable of saving anyone?
Is it too much to ask that-
An arm reaches out of the depths, paleness catching what little starlight exists.
Not a man’s arm–
Yes! Zhou Xiwei swims over, lungs burning and calves on fire, and pulls up his sister, Zhou Xiting. With the instincts of a drowning person, she blindly climbs him, looking for a dry ground that doesn’t exist in this calamity.
“Jie!” His head bobs under, and it’s a struggle to rise to the surface again. He manages, just barely-
“Jie, it’s me! XiXi, your XiXi, list-”
He’s pushed under again. And he can’t fight back, not really, not on the off-chance that he kicks or thrashes or somehow sends his elder sister into the depths instead. He hopes– for rescue, for sanity to return, for this all to be some mad dream, for his sister to be okay, if he can’t be.
If he dies here, all he wants is for her to be safe and oblivious.
To never learn that she’s the one that drowns him, if it comes to it. And then he’s spared the horrible revelation of whether or not he’d drown her after all, if instinct took over, by a strong arm wrapping around his ribcage and pulling him (and his still hysterical sister) up.
“Zhou! Xi! Ting! You’re fine, now stop fucking struggling and breathe!”
Song Bai.
Song Bai is rescuing them. Rescuing them and slapping her. Zhou Xiwei would feel weird about it, if the slap didn’t seem to work, a little.
That’s right– Song Bai is bigger than them both, and always good in a crisis, and he’s been on the swim team since elementary school. Zhou Xiwei would cry from the relief of feeling the responsibility for survival slipping from his shoulders, if he wasn’t worried that the extra water might lead to another bout of drowning.
Instead, he focuses on patting his sister’s back and inflating his lungs and trying to make himself as convenient as possible, for Song Bai to pull along while swimming one-handed. This– it’s exactly this.
This is why Song Bai is so easy to love, even knowing he shouldn’t. Whenever he really needs him, Song-ge is there for him.
No matter what happens, in the end, Song Bai is always there to save them. In the deluge of their parents’ funeral, in the torment of a new school, in this storm now– it’s always him, pulling them back. Keeping them safe.
Caring.
That’s the trouble. It’s always just enough to fool him into feeling loved, even though he knows he can’t be. At least, not loved in the romantic, singular way that he hopes for.
That he’s longed for since he was barely fifteen.
Luckily, being half-dead in the middle of the ocean is great for putting all other troubles out of your mind, and Zhou Xiwei, for once, is able to be physically close with Song Bai without spiraling into daydreams laced with stabbing inadequacy.
So he’s got that going for him!
The waves and the bitter feel of salt in his throat ground him. The spasms of his sister and her drowsy questions– ‘what happened?’ ‘Where’s everyone?’ ‘Who’s coming?’ ‘’XiXi?’– direct his mind, though there’s still no clarity. He tries to soothe her.
“I don’t know. The storm was bad, but I don’t– why things went from bad to sinking, I don’t know!” He feels his brine-soaked voice rising to something more hysterical, more uncontrolled and weak– Song Bai’s arm around him tightens, just for a moment, and he remembers to control his breathing.
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.
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“Qf’gf rjnfv. Ktja’r atf wjlc atlcu.” Vbcu Djl’r nblmf lr rb mbcolvfca, ilxf tf’r cba rtjxfc ja jii, ilxf j mjqrlhlcu rtlq lr pera jcbatfg vjs lc atf ilof– rb mbcolvfca atja la’r cba fnfc mbcajulber, yfmjerf la’r rb bea bo qijmf lc atf vlrjrafg atfs’gf fzqfglfcmlcu.
But he swims harder, towards a set point instead of just instinctually, and Zhou Xiwei finally sees it.
A light across the black water. A boat. A dinghy, really, but who fucking cares? It means that they aren’t destined to become chum on the bottom of an indifferent sea. That they might live through this! His survival skills are abysmal, and his sister is still in a torpor, but with Song Bai around, that’s not a death sentence.
It’s not even worth feeling inadequate.
Song Bai is a strong swimmer; strong and beautiful, though the elegant line of his strokes is interrupted by the two oil bottles that he’s stuck ferrying over. They’re soon close enough to hear voices– though the wind is too great and the words too soft to make out. Song Bai tilts his hands to splash, instead of silently cut, and the light shines on the three of them.
Salvation.
Salvation is three men with wan faces and homespun clothing.
Zhou Xiwei’s never seen a more handsome sight!
Zhou Xiting is pulled up first, shivering so fiercely that it takes three tries for the scrawniest of the rescuers to get the oilcloth tarp around her soaked satin pajamas. Gosh, he’s just a kid. But he’s enough to save his sister. Zhou Xiwei admires him.
She’s the girl in the family, but Zhou Xiwei is the one who was sick as a child, and when he’s pulled up by someone that looks the same age as them, even through his own shellshock, he clearly feels the pause of confusion–
He knows where it comes from. His wrist is too narrow, he’s wearing a fucking fetish outfit–
Ahahaha, it would be hilarious if it wasn’t so dire!
He grabs the tarp that his rescuer has forgotten to offer, and tries to cover his shame before they have too long to contemplate his gender. At least the heat in his cheeks helps burn some of the chill away. And a moment later, when Song Bai is tippily brought into the too-crowded vessel, it’s easier too–
“Thank you. There are still others– at least five, can your boat handle that many?” Song Bai pulls out his phone, eager to use the flashlight to help– of course, it doesn’t work. Not after such a soaking. Even if it did, what good would such an unfocused beam do?
Song Bai shoves the expensive paperweight back into his pocket and starts fretting over the Zhou siblings instead, for want of something to do. He’s always been good in a crisis. But he’s also always been in charge. Being rescued, and mostly useless, is as weird for him as wearing a dress is to Zhou Xiwei.
He needs to be helpful in order to feel normal. Zhou Xiwei knows that about him.
Melodramatic thoughts are interrupted by an even-keeled, “It can.”
Oh.
The one that pulled up Zhou Xiwei has a nice voice. Oddly flat, but between the gratitude of being rescued and the drama of the storm and the suddenly peaceful night that’s followed it– well, he sounds positively divine, as if his calm indifference is godly, instead of strange.
Anyway, it’s good news that they can rescue more. Good news that the calamity might lessen further.
The boat cuts through the water, two grimy oil-fed lights swiveling, looking for the rest of the poor sons of bitches unlucky enough to come celebrate Song Bai’s birthday.
—
It’s cold and it’s cramped.
Oilcloth isn’t exactly known for its warmth, and the tarps that are wrapped around Zhou Xiting and Zhou Xiwei (Song Bai refused and just placed the third over their laps) smell of old paint and older fish. But they’re out of the water, and that makes it paradise. Especially when the lights focus in on one spot, and all three friends– even too drunk to speak (nevermind swim) Qian Li– are safely added to their group.
Huh. Even if Zhiping and Dongqi are assholes, Zhou Xiwei is glad to know that they’re not the type to let someone drown. Who knew? Maybe they don’t suck quite as badly as he thought?
Ding Dongqi prays and curses more than the silent sailors that are their rescuers. Zhang Zhiping says something about rewarding them with money– typical really– but it’s good enough that they’re all still breathing.
Zhou Xiwei doesn’t like them much, but that doesn’t mean he wants them dead.
He scoots closer to his sister and makes room for Zhiping to join them on the rough wooden bench. A splinter manages to dig into his fucking thigh– he winces, sits up to shift instead of scooting, but does his best not to draw attention. Digging it out would mean exposing his half-frozen legs, and he’s not that much of a masochist.
It’s almost a relief, when Qian Li (who can’t keep upright), is bundled onto the wet floor in front of him and propped up by Zhou Xiwei’s still covered legs. Warmth, purpose, and a barrier against any sort of embarrassing movement. What a bargain!
He looks up, and locks eyes with the only one of the rescuers to speak, godly Mr. ‘It Can.’
His social training kicks in, and he thinks they’re being very rude, to not even have expressed their gratitude yet– (throwing money doesn’t count). As the first to connect with the seeming leader of the group, Zhou Xiwei coughs and gives a little smile, and does his best to be polite, surrealness be damned.
“Thank you. For finding us.”
“En.” …Sure enough, angels don’t speak much.
Alright then. Zhou Xiwei looks down and holds the tarp a little closer. The guy still has a nice voice, deep and flat, like the ocean itself, and something about it makes Zhou Xiwei hyperaware of his own lack of masculinity. Admittedly, with such a bizarre first impression, it’s not like there was ever much hope for this to go normally. Maybe that’s why always-perfect Song Bai didn’t try. Because he knew it was silly.
Or maybe it’s–
Zhou Xiwei stops staring at strangers and looks over the side. His parents.
Fuck! He’s been so– all the help the Songs have given him, and he’s managed to go this long without worrying about them?! Zhou Xiwei feels deep, primal self-loathing.
This is why he’s unloveable, this is why he’s unwanted, how can he be selfish enough to not look for them, to not realize that Song Bai, the man he loves, is still missing the two most important people to him?
As an orphan himself, he should be a damn sight more empathetic. He knows what it’s like, to be afraid to see your parents’ corpses. He knows what it means, to feel the emptiness of facing the world without them. To experience the terror of losing both at once.
Fuck! The boat nearly overturns, with the force of Zhou Xiwei’s shift.
“We’ll find them! We found everyone else, even my sister sleeping in the same area, so we’ll definitely find them!”
Song Bai smiles tightly and holds his hand. “Thank you.”
For once, it feels like Song Bai is relying on him for support.
Zhou Xiwei prays with everything he has that they’ll find them. They keep looking. They look, and the boat makes loops based on instinct alone, through this crash that lacks fire or flotsam to guide their efforts. Somehow though, they manage to hit their mark in this huge and seemingly empty landscape–
On their seventh pass, where Song Bai’s hand is clutching his hard enough to make the bones creak, they see something. Two somethings, in matching powder and navy striped pajamas, bobbing like corks in the sea. That level of tailoring?
It can only be Mother and Father Song.
“Mother! Father!”
Song Bai doesn’t wait for the boat to arrive. He lets go of Zhou Xiwei’s numb hand, and dives in to swim for them.
Zhou Xiwei holds his breath in prayerlike anticipation.
Please be alright, please be alright, Song Bai deserves– he can’t have his parents, both, either, die on his birthday, Please, please, let them just be old and conserving their energy; not gone from this world, take my own lifespan if you need it, but don’t make him an orphan–
For once, fate goes Zhou Xiwei’s way. They’re safe.
Half-frozen and scraped up, but safe.
Song Bai reaches them, and Zhou Xiwei is able to exhale in relief at the way Mother Song’s aristocratic hand grasps her son’s neck, and the way old Father Song nods and bobs into a more dignified position. Good to see that old army training still has some use.
They’re both alive. Song Bai isn’t an orphan, and that means that no matter what else happens, the disaster is an incomplete one. Things will be okay.
Zhou Xiwei sends up a little prayer of thanks and tries to make himself useful, looking around for other tarps, and when he sees they’re out, he strips off both of his– pride be damned– and holds them out so that the Song family might have a modicum of comfort, when one by one, they’re hoisted aboard. He’s been dry the longest, and you should cherish the old. Nevermind your benefactors and your crush’s parents.
The leader of the rescuers looks at him again, soft and thoughtful, but Zhou Xiwei doesn’t notice. He doesn’t realize how wondrous he looks to the man. Doesn’t realize that his caring actions are far more eye-catching than his clothing.
Something completely unexpected, in the endless routine of calamities.
—
If his sister is surprised by her brother’s waterlogged cross-dressing, she takes it in stride. And the Songs are too busy and the boys already saw it all, so really– it’s fine. Threading the needle with these strangers, but otherwise– fine.
Mother Song is settled into the boat like the great lady she is, and accepts the tarp (and Zhou Xiwei’s outfit) with endless grace. Father Song is a little worse at hiding his disapproval, but it’s fine. Mother Song takes over and papers over any questions by being the hostess– even in sopping wet, even in someone else’s property.
“Many thanks for the timely assistance.” She counts heads, politely focusing on Zhou Xiwei’s face instead of his stockinged legs or frocked person. “Everyone’s here, thank goodness.” The rescue can be counted as a success, and she peers out, clearly looking for the running lights from a larger boat, or perhaps even a shoreline.
Who wouldn’t be ready for a change of scenery, after such a sudden rousing?
Only– Mother Song isn’t quite right, no matter how sure she sounds.
After all, really, there are still–
Zhou Xiwei opens his mouth, twists his hands, and wonders how to correct her without causing embarrassment. After all-
“Like fuck they are!” There’s a splash in the distance, and Zhou Xiwei sees the chef and one of the stewards clinging to some sort of seat cushion, and… sharing drinks from a bottle of cooking sherry?
Thank God!
See, Mother Song had, with no malicious intentions at all, forgotten that the boat they were chartering had a staff with numbers nearly equal to their own–
It’s good that they’ve found some of them. It will be better if they can find more.
Not counting the chef and junior steward, there are still five people missing.
Mother Song blanches as two people whose life and death she forgot are pulled up into the now very, very cramped boat. But like any fine lady, she quickly recovers. “Of course, of course, there’s still the captain and the boys who helped with the chairs and– of course, we must make a second trip to rescue them.”
The boys. Zhou Xiwei can’t quite hide his grimace. One of those boys is definitely a girl, and there’s the chief steward as well, and calling them boys feels a little dismissive, nevermind gender issues. Not that Mother Song means it, but-
“Second trip? You want them to stay in this?” Yacht chef Wang Bohai looks like he’s about to follow up with a harsher question, or a curse, but the stew shoves the bottle back into his mouth like a pacifier, and he restrains himself to just glaring. And drinking.
Vigorously.
“Well, of course not, but surely– can this poor thing really take so many more?” Mother Song looks towards the three rescuers, seeking an out that doesn’t reek of deadly classism.
She’s destined for disappointment. After a beat, it’s the same one as before who speaks, eyes sparking with something impossible to read in such dim light.
Judgment, maybe?
“Leaving them?” He shifts from side to side, as if checking the worthiness of the ship, and Zhou Xiwei–
He doesn’t know where it comes from, but for some reason, he’s sure that something terrible will happen if he doesn’t intervene. If ‘leave them’ is where they land, like they’re the kind of soulless rich monsters from movies and court cases and newspapers, he’s sure it will be disastrous. A step too far. Instead of thinking, he acts.
He pulls his sister into his lap, and puts himself on Song Bai’s lap, skirt and all.
They’re the world’s wettest, most incongruous totem pole.
“We can make room! The water is cold, and these gentlemen know their boat, so I think– I think it’s probably normally loaded down with fishing equipment, and we’re not that heavy so– I think we should squeeze together and stay out until we find everyone.” All eyes on him, Zhou Xiwei loses a bit of his confidence, and shrinks behind his blanket-sister. “If that’s okay with you, I mean, since it’s your ship…”
The judgment disappears, and something warm takes its place. The main one even smiles at him a bit, and Zhou Xiwei feels warmth trickle in.
“We’ll find them. As long as everyone can be inconvenienced a bit.”
“Of course” “Naturally” “No problem”
It’s not the 80s anymore. No one wants to be a snob; it’s fine to ‘forget’ the staff, but it’s something else entirely to push back when it’s life and death, and someone flat out calls you out on it.
Being unreasonable is far more damning than being forgetful is.
Luckily, almost as soon as they commit to searching, they find the last of the yacht’s occupants.
Safe, and almost drier than they are.
Zhou Xiwei smiles in relief. Mother Song frowns.
The deck crew was smart enough to find a liferaft, and they, the captain and other steward are all in it, though the chief engineer has a bad looking gash across his temple and the bloodless face to match. Mother Song’s pretty face is a little smug, as she nods her chin over to the miserable-looking but not imperiled crew.
“Looks like we were worrying about them more than they worried about us. Hmph. I’m sure I’ve never heard of a crew that ends up in a liferaft while all their guests are just left to sink. Especially a captain.”
She’s not wrong, but it’s still damn awkward to say aloud.
—
In fairness, the storm came out of nowhere, and as they sidle up to the liferaft and connect it to the boat to be pulled, it’s obvious that the crew have taken several swims to look for the lot of them. And really, it’s good, that somehow, despite losing an entire ship, everyone that was aboard it is alive and headed towards safety.
Abnormal, impossible, but good!
Still, Madame Song is miffed and Qian Li is drunk and their rescuers are still sizing them up and–
Zhou Xiwei hates these types of silences, but if there’s one person in the world he can’t stand up to, it’s Song Bai. And if there’s a second, it’s Song Bai’s mom, who has sheltered him since his own mother was taken from him at barely nine years old. So he really can’t call her out, or even paper over things in a way that will offend her.
Not for a second time in one night.
So instead he casts apologetic looks at their still-unnamed rescuers and slides from Song Bai’s lap and just…
Tries to make himself small and unobtrusive. Easily done, though the main rescuer keeps looking at him.
Everytime he looks over, their eyes connect. Zhou Xiwei doesn’t get it. He’s not that eye catching–
It must be the dress.
Author’s Corner:
Zhou Xiwei: Ah, it must be the dress, it is really so eye-catching~
Narrator: It’s not the dress.
Shan Haoyu: It’s not the dress.
Zhou Xiwei: Boy cute, too early… Screams and flees.
Song Bai: Did I miss something? I feel like I missed something.
aaand our ml appears
Haha, might as well introduce them early since they are both way too shy/inexperienced/strange to quickly go for it.
Thanks for the chapter! ^^
Thank you for reading and commenting!
The voice ! The voice ! The “what a way to go, ai” sent me in giggles, I had the same exact thought really. Thank you for the chap !
Being unexpectedly instantly attracted without understanding how or why is definitely something as confusing as being shipwrecked, but with much happier endings. I’m a big fan of dim light, big changes, aural attraction so I have to thank Shan Haoyu for having a nice voice and Zhou Xiwei for being easily overwhelmed.
Poor mom. I was thinking, there should be at least one life boat and if not, then…red shirts? 😂
So, Plowed, by Sponge this time lol. I think my brother likes you. He doesn’t adjust my music when I’m reading anyone else (I haven’t mentioned every song because that would make me look pretty crazy), just family birthdays and stuff.
Near traumatic meet cute?
Excited to start this new novel! I am a lil late to the party, but had to jump straight in as soon as I recognized the author.
Oh God I see the crush coming from miles away! Loving this anticipation XD
Also, mother Song is a bit of a bitch XD