Even an unconscious and sick body will respond to stress.
And being smothered to death is stressful enough to see Ding Dongqi sweat through the reversed linen robe that they’ve been using as a patient’s gown. Zhou Xiwei can’t leave him like that. Not when Old Ding has always been so particular about his appearance. Even if he’s normally an ass, right now he’s more helpless than a child, and Zhou Xiwei’s never been able to muster cruelty for anyone but himself.
So he kisses Shan Haoyu’s temple and excuses himself, quick as he can, to pull a fresh basin of warm water and gentle soap. Once more, the island is surprisingly well-stocked, and he’s even able to find a sensitive skin baby formula.
That should be good for a patient, no?
He comes back, ready to give Ding Dongqi the gentlest, most apologetic sponge bath ever– only to pause and feel his ears twitch a little bit. He turns to Shan Haoyu, who is watching the gathering clouds outside the window very politely. But it’s still-
“Er-” Zhou Xiwei pats his thighs nervously. “Yu’er? Could you, maybe, go try to-”
What’s a polite way to ask someone to leave, because you know that the person you’re about to undress really dislikes them, and wouldn’t want them in the same room as their vulnerable and nude body? Especially… How do you do that without the person misunderstanding and thinking you’re the one that wants distance?
Zhou Xiwei flies through a rolodex of excuses and polite ways of telling the truth. While twitching like a puppy that needs to go to the bathroom. At this rate, even if he doesn’t offend Shan Haoyu, he’ll make himself so unsexy that they’ll never get to kiss one another again. Old Ding, I hope you appreciate this…
While Zhou Xiwei is hyperfixating on this small problem while ignoring all the larger ones, he sees the upside-down nutrient bottle. Perfect! An errand! He doesn’t have to lie, he has a valid excuse! Thank god for that!
He smiles brilliantly at Shan Haoyu, who does him the honor of looking dazed.
Super cute, who cares if he’s a little premonition-y, or whatever? Psychics deserve love too.
“Yu’er, while I clean Old Ding up, do you think you could track down where Xu Mei’s gone with the tubing? Seems Xu Wang forgot.”
Shan Haoyu nods, still looking like he’s lost in his own little world. Zhou Xiwei can’t help it– a sickroom post-attempted manslaughter isn’t the most appropriate place, but he still leans forward and kisses the corner of Shan Haoyu’s lips.
“Thank you, Yu’er.”
“Of course.” So cute. Shan Haoyu finally stands up and walks out like his leg is asleep, and Zhou Xiwei smiles sillily to himself before catching sight of the still-clammy Ding Dongqi and schooling his features into something more suitably dour.
At least based on previous bad jokes, he knows Ding Dongqi wouldn’t actually mind him playing nursemaid so much. It’s still damn awkward, especially in a certain spot, but Zhou Xiwei works diligently, checking for tears and powdering any irritations that he sees to prevent bed ulcers.
He pats him dry and he places him in a fresh robe and he even gets another basin of water and a cup, and washes Old Ding’s hair with the muskiest, most ‘This Young Lord’ shampoo that he can find. In the name of humanity and years spent together, if not deep friendship.
He remains pleasantly oblivious to the storm building in the distance.
—
“Da-ge, I don’t think you should go there-”
“Zhou-ge needs the tubing back, to keep Ding Dongqi fed after his bath.”
“…They stole?”
“They stole his feeding tube and tried to kill him to excuse it disappearing.”
“Then I really don’t think you should go. Everyone always misunderstands! They’ll think-”
“It’s Director Xi’s tube. It’s being borrowed by Ding Dongqi. They have no right to it.”
“Da-ge!”
Shan Haoyu finally stops, just before the horn of the island, and looks his little brother in the eyes. Makes the rare choice to explain, instead of just keeping his mouth closed and taking the blame and misunderstanding that he’s grown numb to accepting.
“It won’t matter. No matter what, if they decide it, we’ll always be something bad. I can’t change it anymore than you can. But I can get the tubing for Zhou Xiwei, who is blameless, and that surnamed Ding, who has already taken his punishment.”
Thinking back to all he’s learned from Zhou Xiwei, Shan Haoyu places his hand on his brother’s slim shoulder, and squeezes. That’s something reassuring, right? It must be, because A-Tian perks up considerably, like a cat that’s had its fur smoothed down.
Sometimes, he thinks he’s forgotten how to be a proper older brother. Sometimes, it feels like A-Tian is the one holding them together. He should work on being better. Shan Yutian’s still hesitant, still worried, but he silently follows alongside, instead of trying to pull Shan Haoyu away from the upcoming confrontation.
They’re once more a team, instead of two people pulling in opposite directions.
Which is good, because what they’re walking into is a half-dozen people in mourning. As soon as the crew sees them, it’s obvious that they don’t see fellow humans– they see a frightening enemy.
The sobs, the smell of the ocean creeping in, the hatred– they’re the notes of a familiar dirge. Shan Haoyu squeezes Shan Yutian’s wrist, silently warning him to stay close and stay behind him as they continue to march forward. Even if this is a bad idea, his mind is made up. But that doesn’t mean he’ll let his little brother be hurt.
Shan Haoyu is always protective. Of those he deems worthy.
—
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 takes one look at the crinkled tarp on the ground before his eyes indifferently slide away. He doesn’t play at asking why the yacht crew is crying, or what’s underneath the green sheet. He knows. He knows they know he knows. There’s no reason to pretend. It would be insulting.
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His only intention in coming here is to get the tube and get out. He’ll do a quick pass of the boat that she clearly ran off to, and if he can’t find it on his own, he’ll ask whoever seems emotionally stable enough. There’s no need to interrupt their mourning beyond that. It would be cruel to do so.
But Shan Haoyu doesn’t realize that to be so nonchalant is another type of cruelty.
In trying to give them space and stay out of their trauma, all he does is widen the gap between their two parties and reinforce the us vs. them mentality. It’s human to be curious, human to be shaken. What they’re showing is… Alienating. Shan Yutian is clever enough to see, but not quick enough to warn Shan Haoyu.
Artifice can be a good thing, but even if he could manage a trick, if it delayed Zhou-ge’s chore, his black-and-white brother would still reject it in the name of righteousness. Shan Yutian can only follow close behind as they enter the boathouse, hoping this lot aren’t as prone to pyromania as some of their past guests.
Luckily, (if you can call anything in this sort of situation ‘lucky’) the island likes Zhou Xiwei almost as much as the rest of them do. Likes him enough that the tubing is coiled almost playfully on the water’s surface, eagerly waiting for pickup and delivery. Shan Haoyu doesn’t even have to hop in and get wet. He can just kneel down, fish it out, and let the saltwater pour out before tightly coiling it and walking out.
Probably, it would be better if it was hidden in a pocket.
Another thing that Shan Haoyu is too oblivious and Shan Yutian is too slow to notice. Instead, they walk out, tubing in hand, and worse still– Xu Wang is just aware enough to look up, see it, and completely collapse. His sobs make Shan Yutian’s heart hurt.
So much for a quick exit.
“Just a moment.”
His crew a mess and his medic about to hyperventilate into unconsciousness, Captain Li steps forward, ready to command answers from the young men that just want to walk past and leave them to their grief without being tainted by it. Not possible.
He’ll pull them in even if it’s a trap!
—
Xu Wang wants to look at Xu Mei, but they won’t let him. Every time he tries, Chef is holding his jaw, keeping him from turning around and looking at where she still is, where she’s warming up, where he needs to hurry up and save her before she’s gone.
He’s given up on explaining, because they won’t listen. He cries instead, fingers palsied out against Chef’s back, when he switches to hugging him tight, comforting and restraining in one much needed motion. A motion that sees Xu Wang crumble.
He’s been hugged like this before. At funerals. At hospital bedsides, when it’s explained that there’s no hope. It’s the hug that people give and receive, when the end comes.
His smart-mouthed and decisive little cousin is gone.
Gone and not coming back, not any more than the tidy ashes and soon-to-be organ donors ever were.
Xu Mei is gone. Gone in a place she feared, far from home. Gone with sin still fresh on her palms.
Gone.
He collapses against Wang Bohai, the useless air escaping him. And then he fills up with something fragile, as he spies the tubing wrapped neatly in Shan Haoyu’s palm.
Probably, it’s the kind of thing that the others would shield him from, if they understood what it meant.
But they don’t, so he sees.
He sees and he hates himself and hates this island and hates-
Not her. Never her. He hates his own inaction.
He sees and knows that whatever is holding him together is about to shatter, and the shards will wedge themselves deep inside his ribs.
He listens to Captain Li’s righteous tone of voice and wants to stop him, but he can’t seem to form any words. He just watches and listens and spasms, as his captain tries to protect them, even though it’s already too late, even though- she’s already- already gone.
Xu Wang tries to follow the conversation, because the only other option is to listen for the sound of a certain teasing laugh that will never again appear on this earth. Shan Yutian meets his eyes, and the genuine sympathy he sees there makes his mentality collapse all over.
—
“Think it’s about time you were straight with us, young man.”
Shan Haoyu really is closemouthed, when Zhou Xiwei’s not around to pry soft words out of him. But you don’t become a captain of such an expensive yacht without knowing how to return surliness with unimpressed sass. And physical intimidation, though Captain Li isn’t there yet. Xu Wang thinks that’s probably damn lucky.
(Shan Yutian agrees with his assessment).
“I have a young lady here, a young lady I hold in very high esteem, who has passed away. Some kind of freak accident. Now I need you to tell me why you’re not the least bit overwhelmed or surprised by the circumstances.”
Shan Haoyu’s eyes pass over them, flickering as he passes Xu Wang’s crying form. Xu Wang- thinks he sees pity? Alongside Shan Yutian’s more open emotionality, it makes him wonder if they’re wrong, if this really is some terrible coincidence, but then Shan Haoyu rubs his fingers together and speaks in an off-puttingly flat tone:
“Death is part of life.”
Not for twenty-eight year old girls! Not like this!
Captain Li voices the same objections.
“Not good enough. Me? I see a tarp like that? With people who look like us? Fine, maybe you’re a cold sonofabitch that won’t feel sad, but you should be surprised. You didn’t even- her face is covered, but you know exactly who it is. Tell me I’m wrong.”
…
Captain Li steps into Shan Haoyu’s personal space, but he keeps his voice even enough to keep from looking like a gangster as he does it. He takes Shan Haoyu’s silence as an admission of guilt.
“That’s what I thought. How do you explain that?”
He sounds more like a stern schoolmaster, and it seems to work? Boys school leftover Shan Haoyu really does show a little more human emotion on his face– just for a moment– and goes ahead and volunteers information. For once. His voice even has a little warble in it:
“I told you at the start. I warned you that karma was real here. That you should be careful with words and actions. I can’t do anything if someone forgets and is reminded.”
“Reminded? Son, she’s dead.”
“Yes.”
“What exactly could a little girl do to deserve that, hmmm? Not liking it here? Wanting to go home? Do you know what- when we get somewhere decent, I’ll have to call her parents and tell them-” Captain Li, who has let the burden of leadership keep him steady this long, has to take a moment to collect himself.
Shan Haoyu’s face gets even more human. Like- like he’s filling up, with emotions that he’s forgotten, like being steeped in their sadness is enough to color him back into something more sympathetic. He sighs, like Xu Mei’s death really is unfortunate, instead of the bland set dressing he’d been treating it as earlier.
Behind his back, Xu Wang sees his little brother rub something like a tear from his eye.
“She-” Shan Haoyu stops, chews his cheek, and looks to Xu Wang. Fuck! Is- Is he asking for permission? Was he really going to let them think that he was a murderer, if Xu Wang didn’t give it? He was so used to this sort of horrorshow that he could stay silent, if Xu Wang wanted it?
Karma.
The word rattles around Xu Wang’s mind, knocking against his ears and making his head ache.
He- He already stood by once when he knew he shouldn’t have.
Empty as he feels… He- he should stop. He should stop and be good, or maybe he’ll be next? And if he’s gone, who will take care of Xu Mei? Who will take care of the preparations, on this cold island? Who will sit with her and burn paper money– who will even make the money– if he dies right away?
Feeling like he’s aged a hundred years, Xu Wang weakly nods his head against Wang Bohai’s neck. Acquiesces. Making sure he lives long enough to do right by Xu Mei is more important than protecting her reputation. Especially since the crew aren’t the type to spread it to others.
Auntie and Uncle won’t ever know. That’s all that’s important.
Shan Haoyu returns his nod and then lifts his arm, so they can all see the clear plastic tubing still wrapped around his hand. “She stole this from Ding Dongqi, and he almost died. Now I need to go bring it back to him.” Shan Haoyu turns, but before he leaves, he adds, “It wouldn’t fit anyway. Not the right diameter. For what it’s worth.”
…
Xu Mei died for nothing. Sure enough.
Shan Haoyu’s almost completely gone before Xu Wang gets himself together enough to stand on his own, dash his tears from his eyes, and make his decision. He doesn’t want to air out more dirty laundry than he has to, but he still has questions.
As Xu Mei’s kin, and someone who shares responsibility for her end. He has to go ask. And he still can’t look at her. If he touches her pulseless wrist-
“Please- take care of MeiMei. I need to ask him one thing more-” Di Qing steps forward, and Xu Wang shakes his head. “-I’ll be fine. I just need to check on some arrangements. Please have faith in me.”
Even on a ghost island, it’s best to ask the inhabitants if they have any sort of means of protecting the dead. Like all good excuses, it’s half-true, and that makes him stable enough to shrug off his well-meaning crewmates, turn his trembling back on his cousin’s corpse, and weakly jog after the man with the answers he’s afraid of.
—
Shan Yutian tugs at Shan Haoyu’s sleeve and jerks his chin back to where Xu Wang is distantly tailing them.
“I think he wants to talk.”
Yeah. No kidding. This is why Shan Haoyu doesn’t like getting involved in the island’s justice. Even more than the inevitably of the death is the inevitability of answers– sometimes demanded, sometimes begged– that he’s reluctant to give.
Every time, people pour their emotions into him and ask their questions and it’s too much, always too much– and it makes him feel like he’s a bobbing buoy in the middle of the ocean, untethered and forgotten. It makes him feel tarnished.
Normally, he’d just keep walking. Normally, he wouldn’t have said two words to that group, except “Make way.” But Zhou-ge would be disappointed to see him act that way, and would feel bad for Xu Wang’s painful little jaunt. So Shan Haoyu sighs and stops. Prepares himself to feel things that he doesn’t want.
Things that hurt too much.
He passes the tubing into Shan Yutian’s hands and instructs, “Sanitize it and then deliver it to Zhou-ge, okay? Let him know that I’ll be back soon, and that I’m sorry it took so long.”
Shan Yutian squeezes his bicep before nodding and hurrying off. Shan Haoyu waits to be the bearer of cruel truths. Again. Like always.
It’s fine. He’s very, very used to it. He thinks if his memory wasn’t so bad, he might go crazy from just how often he’s been in this situation, and just how little difference he can make, no matter what he says or doesn’t, what he warns against or threatens with. But this iteration has been different. Maybe he can be too.
So he waits, and even turns around and adopts his best non-aggressive posture, for when Xu Wang catches up and pants out, “Shan- Shan Haoyu, I- have more questions- for you.”
He nods.
“You- you knew.”
“I did.”
“What did you know?”
“What she did. What the likely punishment would be for it.”
“…Why? Why did she die, why couldn’t I fix it? I fixed it for him, so why didn’t it work for her?” Xu Wang’s bloody, rust-mottled hands are balled up against his thighs. He’s wretched. Wretched enough that Shan Haoyu pauses, unwilling to casually answer.
“Are you sure you want me to be honest?” Sometimes, lies of omission are the only gift left.
But Xu Wang surprises Shan Haoyu. Despite his obvious emotionality, he doesn’t just say yes, or no, or hit him in the face. He- he seems to think, hard, about whether or not he wants the kind of truth that he’s warning him against. It makes Shan Haoyu a little hopeful, that the medic with the weak will might grow strong enough to get through it.
When he eventually nods, Shan Haoyu tells him the truth.
Even if he’s not in control, he’s lived here long enough to understand the island’s brand of rapidfire karma and even to explain it to others– though he’s never really tried before. There’s never been much use; before, no one believes, and after, no one trusts.
“She killed, so she was killed. You did nothing, so you could do nothing.”
An eye for an eye, with the unflinching rigidness of something outside of the human experience. That’s how this place understands karma. That’s the calculation that everyone is subjected to, monstrous in its very fairness. Xu Wang’s knees buckle, and he goes once more into the soil.
Shan Haoyu has the impulse to help, but… He thinks that his touch would… probably be unwelcome? So he just stands and waits for dismissal, or more questions. He gets the latter.
“…She suffocated him for it. So this place… suffocated her for the same?”
“More or less.”
More silence, only broken by Xu Wang’s guttural sobs, still directed at the black soil. His fingers knot into the crab grass and it’s more like he’s pushing himself up, than standing of his own accord, but he still manages it.
“Do you have a- a morgue? Or a… refrigeration unit?”
They don’t. They don’t at all. Asking the island for ice cream is fine. Asking for a morgue– what kind of place would have that? They don’t even have a hospital, and a school with body storage beneath it is a little too dark even for this place.
“…Normally, people here are buried, or burned.”
With a hollow look, Xu Wang nods and lifelessly trudges back to the body that has no good solution.
Shan Haoyu can do no more for him. He’s not sure if what little he tried helped, or hurt, in the long run. He never can. He can only head home, and hope that the grim example of Xu Mei is enough to warn the others.
Clearly his attempt hadn’t been enough. Perhaps he’s more to blame than he’d like to admit.
Author’s Corner:
Ah, this is late and also unedited, apologies, stuff came up at work. 
That being said, I will come back to take a look tomorrow, if you notice anything wrong, please let me know here or in the Discord server and I’ll fix it tomorrow.
And if there’s nothing wrong–
Well, here’s your first look look at the island’s inner workings, as told by Shan Haoyu. Probably not a surprise to you, but it is to the crew. And whether or not he fully understands it himself and is a reliable narrator…
Hmm….
Thanks for the chapter! ^^
ito gives what it gets… i do believe in karma, but uto’s version of it is so direct and cold it makes me scared of it
Humm. I don’t like author’s humming. Bad premonition QAQ
Ding Dongqi is saved again from being the Kenny in the foursome. That didn’t help Xu Mei though!
I wonder if pretending to Zhou Xiwei that she’s still alive would work. If anyone could guess that he’s the key point. Like bring her in and keep doing compressions. But perhaps murder leaves no wiggle room.