"If you don't give me a blanket and a pillow soon, you can expect to be collecting my corpse tomorrow morning," Han Shu warned.
"The blanket?" Now she understood somewhat, but her mind was still on the bedside light switch. She sat up and reached out to feel where the rope had broken, desperately trying to restore light to the room. The cramped space and the relative darkness filled her with instinctive fear. She felt around for a long time before finally having to accept the reality that the rope had broken at the base.
“I don’t have any extra blankets at home, I brought the extra ones to the hospital… I already told you you can’t stay here overnight, what are you doing here?” She stumbled to her feet and tried to get out of bed.
Her room wasn't big, and Han Shu took a few steps from the doorway, actually reaching the foot of the bed. He saw the blanket she was wrapped in and immediately felt indignant. He was freezing, while she was sleeping soundly and warmly under the covers. He mischievously tugged at the corner of her blanket and said, half-jokingly and half-sullenly, "Then give me half of your blanket."
Ju Nian was struggling to get out of bed in a state of confusion when Han Shu's forceful tug caused her to stumble and fall back onto the bed, letting out a soft cry of surprise.
Her panic was so hard to hide that Han Shu, who had relied on his bravado to get to her bedside, finally felt a little embarrassed.
He planned to say, "I just want a blanket, I really don't have any ulterior motives."
But his hand was still tightly gripping the corner of the only blanket someone else had.
Han Shu was an adult, so he could feel the ambiguous atmosphere that was half from him and half from darkness and chaos. This atmosphere, like a poppy, combined with his inner demons, slowly coaxed open a deadly flower.
He somehow ended up sitting on the edge of the bed, his throat tightening, and he murmured as if in a dream, "Are you that scared?"
He didn't even realize that one of his hands had reached out and gently touched her face in the darkness. He wouldn't have dared to do that when he was awake, but was he awake now? Could he be this close to her when he was awake? He didn't even know whether that snowy encounter or this scene before him was like Zhuangzi's dream of a butterfly—which was the dream, and which was reality.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Her Only Journey Home Was a Mirage
Ju Nian tripped over the barrier made of blankets, bracing herself against the bed frame and shrinking back, turning her face to the side to avoid Han Shu's touch. Then, unexpectedly, she lunged towards the other side of the bed, trying to escape, as if escaping the bed would temporarily save her from her boat of fear. However, as soon as her feet touched the ground, Han Shu pressed her back down with one hand.
Ju Nian buried her face in the sheets, like a rudderbird burying its head in the sand, "Don't do this, Han Shu, don't do this, don't do this..."
She seemed to only remember this one sentence: "Don't do this."
She also has her inner demons, a nightmare that is boundless and limitless.
"How is it, like this... or like this..." Han Shu asked in a hoarse voice. He knew he was acting like the most despicable lecher, a shameless rogue, and he was going further and further astray. But his heart...
None of his hands were under his control.
Ju began to struggle, Han Shu's control made her like a trapped beast, making a last-ditch effort.
"What's wrong with you? Huh? If you keep this up, I'm going to yell," she warned breathlessly.
"Okay," Han Shu replied readily.
She wouldn't shout, otherwise she wouldn't have waited until now. Midnight was approaching, and the sound of firecrackers was gradually rising. She knew her shouts were destined to be swallowed up by the wave of New Year's Eve revelry. She couldn't wake anyone except the sleeping Fei Ming, but she absolutely didn't want Fei Ming to witness all of this.
Han Shu's reason faltered, staring at his own wicked actions. Jie Nian's body was warm, a warmth that soothed his frozen soul. He couldn't see her face clearly, but he knew it would no longer be as aloof as jade, nor as cold as ice. She could no longer stand idly by, watching him, no longer say, "Han Shu, this is my business," regardless of whether it was a good thing or not, at least it was between "them." For many years, Xie Jie Nian had been a demon in Han Shu's heart, a source of warmth he instinctively sought, but when he drew near, he always felt only coldness.
Now that she could no longer cool down, this feeling gave Han Shu an extreme, almost manic pleasure, as if he were poisoned, even though he was tearing away the veil of warmth that had been painstakingly placed over them and doing things that he himself despised.
Fine beads of sweat had already seeped out from Ju Nian's chest, but she was still trying to push Han Shu's face away. Her strength and fingernails made Han Shu taste the blood from the wound on his face. He had to use one hand to suppress her, otherwise he had no doubt that her fingers could gouge his eyes out.
In the midst of the twisting and turning, Han Shu grasped a corner of a piece of cloth. It didn't belong to the quilt, nor was it part of the bed sheet, because he felt for a button.
That garment wasn't his, nor was it hers. With his eyes, now adjusted to the darkness, Han Shu finally confirmed that it was a light-colored old man's garment.
Ju Nian also noticed the dress. She actually abandoned her hands, which were protecting her body, and frantically tried to snatch it back. Han Shu used his weight to press her down and moved the dress aside.
Just a few millimeters away from where she stretched out her hand.
Just a few centimeters away, Ju Nian seemed to have forgotten Han Shu's misdeeds on her body. She simply reached out and groped on the messy sheets, but she was still a few centimeters short, and her fingertips just couldn't touch it.
"Whose?" Han Shu asked, burying his face in her chest.
He hadn't forgotten how Ju Nian's face had turned bright red when Fei Ming innocently mentioned the men's clothing, and now her body felt as hot as if it were boiling.
Ju Nian's chest heaved violently; she wouldn't answer at all.
Han Shu, however, found the answer in her loss of control.
This is a multiple-choice question; there is only one correct answer.
That was Wu Yu.
She folded the clothes neatly and placed them beside her pillow, letting them accompany her to sleep. Perhaps for so many years, this was the only support that allowed her to remain calm and undisturbed through the prime of her youth.
Han Shu couldn't tell if he was shocked or pitied. Could she really pretend Wu Yu was still by her side like this? Didn't she understand that even when Wu Yu was alive, he hadn't been lying beside Xie Junian like this? Han Shu was more qualified than anyone to confirm this. Xie Junian seemed to live without desires, but in reality, she was a pathetic wretch who had deceived herself to the extreme. And wasn't he the same? He was alive...
But his loss to a dead man was not in any suspense.
Han Shu was filled with anger because he had too many emotions that had nowhere to go.
This was the second time he had touched her body, and the situation was just as unbearable. The only difference was that the previous time she was so drunk, but this time she was completely sober. Their bodies were entangled, and although every struggle she made was threatening to kill him, in a moment of carelessness, Ju Nian's knee suddenly bent, causing Han Shu a sharp pain in his lower abdomen. He took the opportunity to separate her legs and cupped her face in his hands.
Ju Nian kept her eyes tightly closed. Han Shu didn't know if she was in pain, because she didn't cry out, showed no expression, and didn't utter a single word; she was only struggling desperately. She had wrapped her soul tightly; he could feel her body, but he couldn't feel her soul.
But Han Shu knew she could at least hear him, so he gritted his teeth and said, "Have you forgotten that Wu Yu is dead?"
Eleven years is enough for that boy to turn into a pile of bones. Han Shu wants Ju Nian to know that he is dead and will never come back to life to be by her side.
“He’s not dead, he’s always been by my side!” Ju Nian finally spoke, opening her eyes to look at Han Shu, who was so close to her. She might not be able to defeat Han Shu, but she could let him know that he could never replace his little monk. “He’s always been here, I just can’t see him.”
Han Shu laughed a few times and leaned forward. "He can see us? So he can see us right now? Right beside us?"
He heard Ju Nian gasp from her throat, a sob escaping her lips, as she continued to resist him.
"If he were here, if he cared about you, what would he be doing now? He could have stopped me, slapped me, kicked me off you. Could he have done that?"
"Han Shu, you bastard!" Han Shu pressed down on Ju Nian's bent foot again.
"I'm such a bastard! He was good in every way, even his ghost haunts me after he's dead!" Han Shu shouted breathlessly at a place out of sight. "Come on, Wu Yu, aren't you here? I don't even need you to lift a finger. Just say one word, just say one word and I'll let her go right away... Or you don't even need to say anything, use whatever you want, just give me a hint, anything will do, and I'll get off you right now, right now!"
"Shut up, shut up! I'm begging you!"
“I’m not going to shut up. Aren’t you waiting for him to possess you, manifest himself, and rise from the dead? Wu Yu, she likes you so much, she wants me to get lost, and you won’t even do this much for her? If you care about her, are you even a man?”
At that moment, Ju Nian freed her hand and slapped Han Shu hard across the face. He finally stopped challenging Wu Yu. If Ju Nian had been in pain and panic just now, now her eyes showed a kind of madness on the verge of disillusionment and despair. She had always refused to say she hated Han Shu because hatred was too heavy, but at this moment, she hated him to death. He had tried to shatter her last belief, and she knew he would make her never have peace and leave her nowhere to live.
That slap was really hard; Han Shu's face was turned sharply to one side, but it was at this moment that Ju Nian started to cry.
Before this, Han Shu had never known that a person could feel so much grief and shed so many tears.
After the tears started flowing, she gradually stopped struggling.
It was as if even she was waiting.
Wu Yu, are you really there? Are you really with me in a place I can't see, just as I thought? If you are there, please have one last act of mercy.
Han Shu said, "Let's witness it together, if he were still alive."
Like a lone boat adrift on a stormy sea, the orange tree is tossed about, adrift and helpless, its only destination a mirage.
Han Shu's breathing became heavy, a mixture of extreme pleasure and extreme pain.
Xie Junian had seen such confusion before; it was an upside-down night that belonged to the young Wu Yu and Chen Jiejie in the Martyrs' Cemetery, not Xie Junian.
In the suburbs, where fireworks and firecrackers were not prohibited, deafening roars rose and fell, occasionally interspersed with sharp whistles. The sky outside was indeed ablaze with light, but she couldn't see it. Inside, not even a breeze would come; the air was stagnant, filled only with the scent of desire. The curtains didn't budge an inch, and apart from Han Shu and her own heartbeats and panting, Ju Nian could hear nothing else.
There was nothing there.
"Do you believe it now? He won't appear because he's already dead, and even when he was alive, he might not have wanted you."
Han Shu won; at least he convinced Ju Nian of one thing.
Wu Yu is dead.
Even if he were alive, he wouldn't be by her side. In their final meeting, he came to say goodbye. He had imagined her countless times—his hometown in the far north, his dream paradise—but when he decided to abandon everything and go there, it wasn't her he wanted to take with him. Years after Wu Yu left, Ju Nian embarked on that journey alone. Standing on the plains Wu Yu longed for but could never reach, she felt nothing.
The familiar atmosphere only evoked a sense of emptiness and desolation.
It turns out she's always only had herself.
The last tear of the year was shed that night.
At a moment of unparalleled sensory pleasure, Han Shu felt Ju Nian's soft hand dangling over the edge of the bed.
Her face was expressionless, as if even this body didn't belong to her.
So he stroked her hair and her face, where the tear stains had dried.
"He's dead, but you still have me."
Then he heard her hollow voice.
She asked, "And who are you?"
Who is he? Han Shu felt as if a bucket of snow water had been poured over his head. He was someone who had wanted to be good to her for the rest of his life, but now he couldn't even see that person; all he saw was his own naked, disgusting self.
All passion and desire vanished like a wisp of smoke at that moment. Han Shu collapsed, slowly lying on top of the sweat-soaked Ju Nian, motionless, as if he were dead.
Ju Nian didn't move either; they maintained this posture for so long that it seemed they were decaying into dust.
Tired, so very tired. They all seemed to have fallen asleep, but I don't know when they woke up again. The world outside the window finally quieted down.
From intense passion to silence, it was as if another world had passed, and dawn had not yet broken.
Han Shu turned over and lay flat on the bed.
"You hate me, don't you?" He said blankly, as if speaking to a flower bed.
He thought Ju Nian wouldn't answer this question either, but to his surprise, after a while, Ju Nian made a very unclear sound.
"Um"
"I never thought I would do something like this. I never have before, and I never have now, but I did it anyway, and I don't know why. But it's no use saying anything now. Tomorrow, you can do whatever you want, I'll accept anything. But I just want you to tell me, in your heart, who am I really?"
Ju Nian found herself saddened and pondered this question: Who was he? What did Han Shu mean to her? A villain who could die a hundred times over, a shameless leech, a bastard whose life intersected with hers, a bystander who controlled her fate, who broke into her dusty world and reminded her that her quietness was only because of loneliness.
He was neither her lover nor a stranger.
Sometimes she would rather equate him with Lin Henggui, but he is not Lin Henggui.
Ju Nian didn't intend to love Han Shu, yet all her hidden memories were only related to him. Eleven years ago, he was by her side, his youth as tender as a budding flower; eleven years later, old age was merely a matter of yesterday and today, yet it was still him. Who can fathom the mysteries of fate?
"Perhaps you know what I've been thinking about, ever since a long time ago. I didn't know what to do, and I've done many things that I regret now. I regret not having the nerve to tell you clearly, I regret going to the Martyrs' Cemetery with you that day. Maybe I should have let you and Wu Yu go. I also regret trusting my godmother after the incident. I was so naive, thinking she would take care of everything so we could be together. I regret even more that I didn't have the courage to stand up back then. I've had countless dreams to make up for this regret, but it's no use. It's just a dream. Of course, in the end, I was too scared to even visit you. I haven't done anything in these eleven years... But there's one thing I don't regret. You can think what I say, but I'm really a shameless idiot. I don't regret that night, in that little hotel, when you and I... I know it's not honorable, it's wrong, but I don't regret it."
Ju Nian found it hard to recall the details of that night. She suddenly realized that she was completely different from Han Shu. She often remembered the nightmares that followed after dawn and would try to explain them to herself year after year. But that night, she rarely thought about it and even deliberately avoided it, as if a piece of the film of her memory had been cut off out of nowhere.
"Tell me, what would things be like now if I had taken you home that night, or if we had never met?" Han Shu asked a ridiculous question.
She might find Wu Yu and actually kill Lin Henggui. Or she might avoid this calamity, watch Wu Yu go to prison, wait for him, or eventually meet another man and live a smooth life.
If something is infinitely possible, it is also something that was never possible.
Ju Nian said, "I don't know. Anyway, it's all the same, one lifetime."
They each clutched a corner of the blanket, lying on the messy bed, oblivious to how absurd this scene was. She could hit him, yell at him, chase him away—anything was fine—but instead, at this most inappropriate time, they were having the most honest conversation they'd ever had since they met.