After Xu Mei’s death, the sun disappears from the island, and endless heavy gray clouds take its place. Mornings are the color of a dying dove, afternoons are cold gunmetal, and evenings are oppressive navy velvet. Who knew there were so many hues of misery available in the natural world?
And every moment, there’s rain.
Unceasing rain, enough to make you want to wrap yourself up and refuse to move even an inch. Usually, it’s just inconvenient, but sometimes… Sometimes, it’s rain so heavy that it’s almost solid, sleeting sheets that turn every building into an island, no amount of lamps able to cut through it, no amount of yelling able to carry past the torrent.
Mostly, it’s just endless.
Xu Wang takes it as a sign to bury Xu Mei, rather than try to burn her– not that he’s sure he dares, not without a furnace to make sure it’s clean and complete and won’t lead to the trauma of leftover body parts or crackling skin making her seem like roasting, rotting meat instead of a person.
The rain makes her grave easy to dig.
It makes it easy to deepen the pit, and Xu Wang digs deep. He doesn’t- he can’t bear the thought of a rogue tide or a mudslide exposing her, so he digs until his hands are a ring of blistering calluses, and even after– his friends take over for him. Even when there’s a mudslide, he just stands in the waist-deep muck and wonders if he should let himself sink into it. But he still has obligations.
He hasn’t talked much since that last private conversation with Shan Haoyu. Other than warning the others off any type of vengeance, he had gone silent, withdrawing into himself with an air of troubled soullessness.
And then, it is time for the funeral.
—
When they all gather together–
Shan Haoyu, Shan Yutian, and Director Xi in the distance like they’re not sure if they’re allowed–
When they gather four days later to inter her, it’s the first time most of them have heard his voice, since before they got the news that Xu Mei had been in a tragic accident on the shore.
He sounds older, and tired, but oddly– at peace? As if, in digging the hole and carefully lining it with untreated planks wrapped in plastic tarping, in creating a burial vault for her, so that her remains might one day be moved back home– it’s as if in that minutiae, he finds purpose. And distance.
Xu Mei is gone, but her body still needs to be taken care of, and that’s what he focuses on.
Regret? Amends? Seething while laying in wait?
Hard to tell.
But the way he speaks about her, in a soft, cracking voice that barely rises above the din of the endless rain, is nice. He talks about their shared childhood, and how she was always the brave one, and he was always the one to clean up after– whether it was liberating a neglected dog or trying to make their own outrigger out of empty plastic barrels and discarded crab trap bobbers.
He talks about her hopes for the future, about how despite the contented self she showed to the world, she had dreams– dreams of moving onto solid land, of becoming the woman behind the scenes, helping run charters and place workers with the kind of deft touch that only someone with her experience and connections could manage.
She’d wanted to be stable enough to have a puppy.
He shovels the dirt over the carefully tied bundle that is brought out by Di Qing and Captain Li.
The others follow his example, and bit by bit, Xu Mei’s remains disappear into the coffee-colored runoff and the jet black soil. At the very end, Di Qing brings out a large flat stone, salvaged from the remains of the chapel, with Xu Mei’s name in shallow but elegant strokes. When washed by the rain, the contrast makes the characters seem vivid, almost professional. A marker that her family can be content with.
Director Xi’s contribution, though no one points it out.
—
At the impromptu funeral, Zhou Xiwei’s aversion to Shan Haoyu is obvious.
For everyone except Xu Wang (who is in no position to notice), it’s also baffling. The yacht crew don’t care, not really– other than to hope that maybe the young man has gotten wise. Zhou Xiwei’s friends care a lot– even transparent Qian Li vaguely broaches the subject of Zhou Xiwei’s sudden regression, trying to figure out if he’s alright.
Zhou Xiwei brushes them all off, even his sister and Song-ge.
He’s ‘just taking some time to evaluate, instead of getting lost in feelings.’ That’s all he’ll say, no matter who asks, no matter if he’s approached with Song Bai’s teasing softness or his sister’s blunt insistence that he’s ‘making the cute boy sad.’
He doesn’t’ know the answer himself, so he can’t give one to others. He can only avoid it. Avoid him.
—
Giving her brother space doesn’t mean Zhou Xiting is blind.
She can tell that her XiXi is just as sad as the boy that he’s rebuffing– he’s got the same tells now as he had the first time Song Bai brought a girlfriend to a family party. The withdrawal, the tight smiles and polite little words that only come out on command? The spending as little time in the guy’s presence as possible, it’s all the same as before, but even more pitiful.
Even at the unexpected funeral, as soon as the grave is filled in and he pays his respects, her brother takes off back towards the dorms. He doesn’t even wait for an umbrella.
He gets soaked, and soon disappears into the rain-veiled distance.
It’s how he handles rejection, but it’s clear as day that Shan Haoyu isn’t rejecting him at all. That all he wants to do is chase after him– so much so that his little brother has to hold the corner of his shirt in order to keep him grounded, when XiXi runs away.
ZHou Xiting finds it very confusing, and even more pitiful.
Especially since she’s still sharing a room with Zhou Xiwi, and at only two years older, she’s hardly going deaf. She can hear his exhausted murmurs when he finally falls asleep, and she can hear the sound of his shifting body as he reaches out to hug someone that isn’t sharing his bed anymore.
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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Surely, her little brother can’t be that dumb.
He’s always been self-sacrificing, but there are limits. And she’s right here! With a uterus that is perfectly capable of creating children, and a stance in society that will allow her to find a husband to carry on the Zhou surname within a bearable limit of derision. She can be the joke, so he can’t be wrapped up in something that idiotic.
She’s concerned. And meddlesome. When the funeral ends, instead of following XiXi, she follows Shan Haoyu. Follows him all the way to the school building that he lives in. Follows and self-consciously shuffles her feet against the ancient mat by the doors, when her squeaking soles finally grab his attention.
“Terrible weather we’re having.”
Not her strongest opening line, but it’s enough for Shan Haoyu to nod and follow her to the first-floor library, so… mission accomplished?
Damn… For years now, all she’s wanted is for her little brother to move on from Song Bai to someone that would love him back. She just didn’t realize that love would require this sort of help on her end. But, well… As a big sister, it’s her duty.
She hasn’t been able to convince him to take over their birthright. She hasn’t been able to introduce him to any eligible young gay bachelors back home. She hasn’t even been able to get him fully over their parents’ deaths, or the trauma of their identification.
With that kind of track record, it’s hard not to feel like a failure.
And she’s never been very comfortable with failing. So she’ll help untangle this little lover’s quarrel for him, doing what it takes to ensure that Shan Haoyu isn’t gone by the time XiXi works out… whatever is troubling him.
This at least, should be within her capabilities. After all, the guy clearly doesn’t want to leave, and stuck on an island, XiXi can’t get lost in a crowd or hop a train to get away. Even if he runs from his feelings, there’s real limits to the distance he can go.
On pretext, she picks up a book, but she doesn’t read it. Instead, she takes in Shan Haoyu’s hollow appearance.
He’s a bit of a melancholic beauty, huh? His wheaty skin now looks ashen, and his hair, which has always been a little unfashionable, is now officially far too long, making him look particularly miserable with the endless rain pressing down on it. Even his eyes seem a bit more dull, like there’s a vampire slowly draining his very essence away. Her little brother’s state isn’t that much better, ah.
—
“I don’t know if you and XiXi have spoken about- well, I’m not sure what you talk about.”
Zhou Xiting crosses her ankles, very ladylike as she sits across from a deflated Shan Haoyu. Tsk. What a pair, he and XiXi are both such kicked puppies, really unbearable. She has to interfere.
“But he’s not good with death, or violence, which you’ve probably noticed by now. His running… You shouldn’t take it personally. He’s just processing. He doesn’t mean to pull away, he’s just- this is how he protects himself from being hurt too badly.”
“I don’t blame him.” Shan Haoyu’s voice is soft, but full of conviction.
“Even though he’s making you miserable?”
Shan Haoyu’s eyes fly to hers, as full of panic as his voice. “I’m not! He’s- he could never.”
Aww. Every time she talks to the puppy boy, she likes him a little more. Men import wives from small little communities all the time. Why can’t her XiXi do the same? It’s not like they lack the money to bring him and his well-behaved tagalong little brother home. Hell, they can even grab old Director Xi and call him their father-in-law, if it makes XiXi happy.
It’s not like their family register doesn’t have the room for it! Still, first things first.
You have to start talking again before you can go to the marriage hall. This big sister still has work to do!
“Well, that’s good. But-” She traces the edge of the table. “But, if you start to feel sad, I would say… Don’t stew in it. XiXi should reassure you, but he’s never been with anyone before. He might not know how to. And he’s used to giving up. So… Don’t let him, yeah? Because he really likes you, but he can be his own worst enemy.”
“I’m not… very socially adept.”
“He’s forgiving.”
“He’s mad at me for a reason.”
Zhou Xiting sits up straighter, her voice taking on a very steady, steely edge. “Did you hurt him?”
“No.”
She takes his measure, checks his eyes, judges his words to be true. And immediately relaxes, tummy pushing back out as she slouches and even blows her overgrown bangs out of her face. Like this, the family resemblance between her and Xiwei is pretty striking, and it’s a little funny how it seems to subconsciously set Shan Haoyu at ease.
Well, at least her lack of posture training is good for something!
Take that, Madame Qing’s Academy for Young Ladies! Take that, Mother Song’s extra credit homework on the weekends, and the endless books that tumbled from her head as she practiced her dance steps in the Song family’s main ballroom. A lack of decorum was sometimes exactly what the circumstances call for!
Though admittedly, their lessons had never considered ‘trying to reassure your brother’s brand new same-sex partner.’ Just more proof that the lessons should be updated for the new generation! She thinks she sees a few spy novels on the shelf above Shan Haoyu’s head, and is struck by puckish inspiration.
“So! XiXi ran off in the rain, and I was planning to spend my day reading. Do you think you could go check on him? For me?”
“…I don’t know that he’d like that.”
“If he says no, you can come back and just call it eco-conscious bathing.”
But he won’t say no. He’s just awkward and shy and once he gets caught up in his feelings, all the old inferiority comes out and he loses all the momentum he’s built up.
Zhou Xiting knows her brother.
She might not know his boyfriend-shaped-person yet, but from what she’s seen, his feelings are genuine and his actions are respectful and he’s not Song Bai, so she’s on board.
“Trust me. Go.”
She waves a nervous but determined Shan Haoyu off and happily pulls down a few pulp fiction spy novels, ready to jet off to Majorca and capture missing Nazi gold and whatever else those men and women in sunglasses and prosthetics have in store for her.
Thin little buggers.
She’ll probably read two or three, just to give XiXi and his man plenty of time to work things out. After all, walking in on them making up will be just as bad as walking in on fighting! Probably worse! So it’s much better to spend her rainy day as a literary lady. Especially so close to the kitchen, where she can probably scare up a crumpet to complete the look.
Assuming she can figure out what a crumpet is. Maybe her little future brother-in-law knows?
—
Shan Haoyu’s still not at all sure that this is a good idea.
But no matter how slowly he walks, the distance between the school building and the dorms is finite. Eventually, soaking wet, he reaches the porch where they had their first kiss. Their first kiss, in weather just like this. Maybe it’s a sign?
The faint hope is enough to get him through the door, where-
He immediately starts using his cupped palms to squeegee himself off. Meeting your sweetheart looking like a dripping sheepdog doesn’t seem like the best idea? But there’s a limit to what he can do with no tools. He ends up trying (failing) to tiptoe all the way down the hall, to the bathroom and the towels stacked outside the bathroom. A little cleanup, so that maybe Zhou-ge won’t realize how unappealing he looks.
Annnnnnd they’re out of towels. Fantastic.
Would it be stupid to go back, get a towel, and then run back? Yes, right? Or maybe-
While Shan Haoyu is having the dumbest argument possible with himself, a door opens, and he’s caught by Zhou Xiwei. He hates how tired he looks. He wants to wipe those dark circles away, but he doesn’t know if he still has the qualifications to touch him.
…
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
Zhou-ge’s eyes are red-rimmed, and his face looks as hollow as Shan Haoyu’s heart feels. He looks like he’s been ill, and he knows he hasn’t been eating enough, thanks to his little brother’s status updates on the state of his skipped meals. Shan Haoyu feels responsible, and remorseful, in equal measure. Despite his best efforts, in the end, Zhou-ge is having the same reaction to the island as everyone else–
Revulsion.
Shan Haoyu blames himself so much that it spills out, turning his cautious greeting into a stream of regrets and promises to do whatever Zhou Xiwei wants, answer whatever he needs, if he’ll just stop avoiding him. By the end of it, Zhou Xiwei’s cheeks finally have a bit of color to them. Maybe not quite a blush, but something.
“-Please. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t trying to lie. It’s just that nothing ever changes, until you, and- I didn’t want you to be afraid.” Shan Haoyu finally runs out of words, and can only messily repeat what he’s already said, heart in his throat as he waits for Zhou Xiwei to kick him out.
He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to be rejected.
He wants to come in from the cold.
After a few torturous moments, Zhou Xiwei stands to the side, making way for Shan Haoyu.
He didn’t slam the door. He didn’t break off their relations. He’s- he’s allowing him in. For the first time since Xu Mei’s death, the rain slackens to a drizzle so delicate that it’s almost a mist– morning dew that’s escaped the confines of gravity and now hangs in the air like bated breath instead of something oppressive.
It turns the window opaque, and the room more intimate, as Shan Haoyu gingerly sits at the very edge of Zhou Xiwei’s bed. Zhou-ge takes the other half– far enough away to prove that things aren’t the same, but still on the same bed. Shan Haoyu will take it. It’s proof that he’s not too terrified of him.
It’s a better reaction than most but he still makes sure he sits very prettily, just in case aesthetics and politeness can get him any points at all. It’s a good while, sitting in the hushed room, before Zhou Xiwei speaks.
“I don’t want to dislike you. I don’t dislike you. But I’m scared. And confused.”
Shan Haoyu knows that’s more than reasonable.
“Anything you need- want- anything, ask.” The silent ‘I’ll do it’ comes across loud and clear, at the end. Oddly enough, Zhou Xiwei just starts to softly talk, not even asking any of the hundreds of questions that Shan Haoyu has tried to prepare for, in the sleepless nights since he admitted to not intervening in Xu Mei’s death.
Since Zhou Xiwei stopped spending time with him.
—
“Sometimes, here, I feel things. Not like- not enough to know anything, like you did with Ding Dongqi, but- but enough to feel sad, or scared, or even happy, for no reason that has anything to do with me. Weird as shit, but not…something I can judge you for, you know? If I can pick up on vibes, of course you can, living here longer, being more self-assured-”
Shan Haoyu looks like it’s the first time he’s ever been called that. Cute. Or, it would be cute, if he wasn’t still busy being tangled up over why Shan Haoyu knew, but didn’t intervene. After all, coming to Ding Dongqi’s bedside when they did, and seeing him saved–
That proves that Shan Haoyu can interfere. Which makes non-interference a choice.
And that’s the problem.
Choosing to let someone die isn’t something that Zhou Xiwei can match to the shy, surly, but secretly soft person that he’s spent more than a month getting to know, and weeks getting more and more intimate with.
The Shan Haoyu in his mind- the Shan Haoyu that he thought he knew, couldn’t do something like that. He’s the most moral person that Zhou Xiwei’s seen in a long time, calling out bad behavior whenever he sees it, and helping them without asking for anything in return. He couldn’t let someone run towards their own death.
Yet by his own admission, he had. Maybe more than once?
It’s too big of a disparity, too much of a paradigm shift, and it’s kept Zhou Xiwei up and miserable since he started having to try to reconcile it.
Zhou Xiwei realizes that his pause has gone on for too long, and shakes his head.
“-You knowing is a lot. Wild. But it doesn’t bother me. What bothers me, what worries me, what I can’t talk to the others about without endangering you or sounding crazy- Letting her die.” Zhou Xiwei’s eyes start to redden again. “Shan Haoyu, how could you?”
“She killed him.”
“But she didn’t.”
“Zhou-” Wait, they’re not that close anymore. Maybe. Shan Haoyu wilts and corrects himself, “Zhou Xiwei, she certainly killed him. Xu Wang being able to bring him back- you can take that as karma helping him, and helping you, but that doesn’t make her any less of a murderess.”
“Murderess? Holy fuck, what century do you think it is?”
…Zhou Xiwei is joking. Just joking. But the joke makes Shan Haoyu’s head hurt, the way it always does when he tries to remember his age, or the past, or even when exactly the island started acting up, and everyone left. He shakes his head, but luckily, Zhou-ge doesn’t need a response to keep talking with him.
“But- Even if she did something bad, something really bad… How could you let her- let it- whatever. How could you just let her die, like- like-?” Zhou Xiwei’s voice falters, and Shan Haoyu reaches over to hold his hand. It’s a risk, but he can’t help it-
And Zhou Xiwei doesn’t flinch away. He wipes his tears, he’s heartbroken, but he’s not flinching. He squeezes back. Which makes Shan Haoyu want to explain, even though he knows perfectly well that his actions aren’t explainable. Not in the confines of normal psychology, but Zhou Xiwei makes him want to try to be understood, even though he’s long-since given up on it.
“It’s a bad excuse but… I didn’t really think about it?” He cringes at his own inhumanity. “A long time ago, when things first started to get out of hand, I swear, I tried. I think I was the kind of person that you’d be proud of then. But Zhou-ge, it never worked. No one listened. Sometimes, they’d just get more outrageous. They’d turn on one another, on me, on my brother. And- and at some point-”
He sighs, and feels Zhou Xiwei squeezing his hand again. Giving him strength.
“At some point, it seemed to make more sense than people did. If you hurt others, you get hurt. That’s how the world is supposed to work, isn’t it? What we’re told as children? The island is just a child that got that lesson and never grew past it. And after watching so many people turn into beasts, Uto became easier to trust than them.” Bolstered by baring his soul, Shan Haoyu scoots a little closer.
He remembers Young Lady Zhou’s advice, and his own feelings, and what a good person Zhou-ge really is.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being numb. I’m sorry for making you sad. I didn’t want her to die. I don’t want anyone to die.” Because it makes you sad. A-Tian too, though he hides it.
“But I’ve also seen how bad things can get, if you intervene for someone who is willing to kill their companions. …Maybe I’ve been using that as an excuse to not try again, even if you’re so very different.”
Even though I might love you.
Especially because of that, because the thought of you becoming one of the innocents ground under the heels of the others– beaten, sacrificed, starved– the thought of that makes me want every last bit of aggression to be drowned, so that no one can make you one of those corpses. So that you won’t leave, you won’t blacken, you won’t hurt or suffer.
First A-Tian, now Zhou-ge– Shan Haoyu has gained a second reverse scale, and now must navigate how to protect his body while also protecting his mentality. Which he knows well enough, he can’t do through his old indifference. He dares to hope.
“Forgive me? I know, it’s not human to be so callous, but-”
“Okay. No more, and- and I can understand. Forgive it.”
Zhou Xiwei leans forward and brings him into a gentle, featherlight hug. Underneath Shan Haoyu’s clothes, all the way down his spine, those familiar hidden cracks appear. For the second time ever, for the second time with Zhou Xiwei, they flash shimmering gold, instead of pulsing black.
No more.
He promises.
Author’s Corner:
Well, it may not be romantic, but at least the Valentine’s post lets our two lovers talk it out. Of course, there’s still a lot to discuss, but being willing to talk and try for a better solution is important.
communication is the key
Dialogue, we love to see it. Zhou Xiting is an excellent sister wingman.
It is very interesting to see the contrast in dynamic/personality between the three sibling/cousin pairs we’ve got showcased in recent chapters.
❤ Zhou Xiting. Best big sister
Communication is my second kink after consent when I’m reading romance so it’s pretty nice to have that chapter rn ~
Aww…I think Zhou Xiwei hears as much with his empathy as he does with his ears! Thank goodness big sis knows all about it.