Chapter 30: Jingzhe

8TH OCT 2022~ VERALUCTL

“I won’t let go if you don’t tell me clearly! What’s your type?”

“Homely, not a troublemaker, doesn’t stick out, good at cooking, virtuous, gentle, understanding, alright? I don’t want someone like him with so many love interests.”

—Mo Cong woke abruptly, the sharp voice of his prodigal sister still lingering in his ears, determined to stay there for another three days. He pinched his brow and casually pressed the fluorescent switch on the small bedside alarm clock to reveal that it was three o’clock in the morning.

Mo Cong sat up. Perhaps it was because Mo Jin had caused quite a disturbance yesterday, so much so that he had to suffer her voice through the barrier of the door, that he had ended up with this definite nightmare.

For An Jie to not have lost any years even when tortured by the two girls like this… truly, one could not weigh another by their looks.

But at the same time, this thought made Mo Cong realize that it seemed he had never had the patience nor time to sit down and listen to that scatterbrained girl Mo Jin’s mad ravings, or cared about what books Xiao Yu read, if they were good or bad.

Perhaps people were weaker in the dead of night – especially a cold winter’s night. Suddenly, Mo Cong remembered that of those who shared his blood, perhaps… only these two girls remained.

They were… dependent on each other for life.

But it seemed that he had never done his duties as an elder brother… or maybe without An Jie to compare himself to, it was that he would never have realized this either.

Mo Cong’s thoughts wandered further and further away as he hugged his quilt – just a while ago, when they were about to go on holiday, Xiao Yu had forgotten something and when he had thrown her books down to her from the window, he seemed to have seen an almost flirtatious note inside one of them… and the handwriting had obviously belonged to a boy.

That incident could have been big or small, and he had originally planned to ask about it.

But afterwards, he had been too busy. He had to personally take care of the underground businesses under Si-ge and Chen Fugui, and the large quantity of smuggled goods that passed through them had to move through his hands, even some of the firearms from the middle-east… those shipping boxes covered in blood and smoke easily turned his vision away from his home.

They had made him forget about his own sister, and that lad he had yet to ask about…

And then Mo Cong discovered in defeat that he could no longer fall asleep.

He slowly climbed up, the wound on his back throbbing in pain, reminding him of the unbreakable connection between him and the underworld. He carefully pushed away the quilt and moved across the room, opening the door.

He had planned to take a seat in the study and go through Xiao Yu’s reading materials… or what that mysterious man An Jie read, but he paused when he saw the figure curled up on the living room sofa.

An Jie’s unit was to the side and both the bathroom and the living room had windows. Yet the owner had forgotten to draw the curtains, a quiet and faint light shimmering through the window onto the furniture, and him.

The sofa seemed to be too short for the lean body of the person laid on top of it, his legs curled up pitifully. A blanket hung loosely by his waist, about half of it draped on the floor.

His shoulders were slouched, his hair spread across his face a bit messily, one hand by his face, the other hanging midair to the side, palm up. That pair of hands could be said to be extremely pretty, but the owner did not cherish them, visible, unhealed marks from picked blisters scarring their palms.

Mo Cong stopped in his footsteps. He didn’t think this man’s sleeping face could be this provoking – it was peaceful and quiet, even beautiful under the subtle lighting, such that it had an unstoppable attraction for someone whose heart was filled with endless clamor, who lived without peace or freedom, who walked through the darkness.

Especially when… Mo Cong wailed to himself – especially when he had a very special and distinctive sexuality.

To see such a scene after dreaming of Mo Jin, this entire night became a tragedy. But this young man couldn’t help but soften his footsteps and walked over – “I just want to pull up the blanket for my savior.” He didn’t realize that he was making an excuse.

Unfortunately, An Jie’s defense system was a little too good. When Mo Cong was about two meters away from him, that person who was deeply asleep on the sofa suddenly opened his eyes. And that pair of eyes which were always half-lidded and lazy when he was awake were more alert than ever, without a shred of fatigue.

Just one look and Mo Cong realized what sort of person he was… it turned out that peaceful and beautiful sleeping face was just an illusion. Mo Cong shrugged. “Your blanket fell.”

An Jie made a muffled sound in the back of his throat to show that he got it, before his eyes lowered again, his body relaxing back into his original curled position, not caring about his blanket at all.

Mo Cong had no words, not knowing if he had actually woken up, or if he had just pretended to do so. He sighed, made his footsteps heavier, then lifted up his blanket and unconsciously tucked the corners in before pouring a cup of water and returning to the bedroom. He had obviously forgotten what he came out here to do…

And then he fell asleep – it turned out tucking An Jie in helped with insomnia. The world sure was a strange place.

For the rest of the night, he kept dreaming fuzzily of a faded man’s silhouette. At first, he thought it was An Jie, but the man’s slightly bowed back didn’t carry the same nonchalant feeling; it was held like he was carrying something heavy and difficult.

That silhouette was extremely familiar. Mo Cong tried so hard to catch up to him but there was always a distance between them. He felt as if he had been watching that man’s figure for a long, long time… as long as a lifetime – until the first ray of morning sun fell on his face.

He laid dazedly on the bed and looked at the snow white ceiling, his mind blank except for that man’s back, and blurred… white hair.

He suddenly remembered – that was Mo Yannan’s silhouette. He hadn’t recognized his own father’s back.

An Jie knocked on his door and looked in to announce, “Get up if you’re awake, I’ve left you breakfast on the table.” He had planned to leave once he finished speaking when he saw Mo Cong’s face. He had seen fake enthusiasm on this child’s face, and he had seen viciousness and hatred, harshness and cruelty, but he had never seen this overwhelmed, sorrowful, and puzzled expression.

An Jie paused, and ended up asking, “What happened?”

Mo Cong didn’t say anything, his eyes still staring straight ahead at the ceiling. An Jie stood at the door for a while without receiving an answer. He had just decided to leave when he heard Mo Cong ask hoarsely, “Where did you meet my dad?”

An Jie thought a little and answered honestly, “In the Great North-West. Your father was doing architectural work there.”

Mo Cong seemed to reply unconsciously, “How is he?”

An Jie sighed. “He’s dead.”

Mo Cong’s face remained expressionless, the corners of his lips lifting up slightly almost mechanically, his eyes blank and unmoving. An Jie walked in and took out a leather wallet from the bottom drawer of the bedside table. He placed it in Mo Cong’s hands without a word and left.

Mo Cong slowly sat up when he was the only one left in the bedroom. He looked at the leather wallet placed in his palms, this old and unbecoming thing that Mo Yannan refused to change even after having it for more than ten years, almost a feature of the old professor’s pedantic ways. Mo Cong opened the leather wallet; the smiles of the family inside almost blinded him. He felt like at some point, he must have lost his memory… or how could he not remember them ever being so happy?

At that moment, Mo Cong finally truly realized that the man who angered him everytime he saw him, the man he wished so dearly to get rid of, was really not here anymore. It wasn’t that he forgot to return home because of a research project, nor that he went on a business trip that would continue for days without a word. He was no longer here… nor in any corner of the world.

An Jie stood outside his bedroom and listened to the repressed whimpers from inside, his head lowered and his expression unreadable. After a while, he finally sighed and walked in.

The leather wallet was deformed in the youth’s hands from how hard he clenched it. This child who was never willing to show weakness had his back arched like a wounded beast, gritting his teeth, refusing to make any noise.

An Jie approached him, keeping his presence low and safe. When he wasn’t pushed away, he lightly put his arms around Mo Cong’s shoulders, letting this child bury his whole face into him.

A child who had never been able to let out his negative emotions in a normal way, especially such a rambunctious and intelligent child – it was truly too dangerous. An Jie patted Mo Cong’s back as if letting out a breath, his eyes landing on the deformed wallet in his hands.

It was this thing that had kept the old professor’s eyes open.

Blood was thicker than water; in the end, he was not beyond redemption.

Unfortunately, Mo Cong didn’t get to enjoy this pretty man’s hug. As he slowly calmed down from his outburst, he also became conscious of his state. As he felt awkward enough he wanted to just give up on himself, the doorbell rang.

An Jie tried to make his expression as calm and stern as possible in order to not hurt this child’s dignity, however the person by the door spoke up upon not receiving an answer. “An Jie-ge, are you up yet?”

A certain someone who didn’t dare lift his face even now, after hearing his own sister’s crisp chirp, suddenly stiffened. An Jie almost burst out laughing. He patted Mo Cong’s shoulder comfortingly before leaving the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

The person who rang was Xiao Yu, coming over early in the morning with a lunchbox. “An Jie-ge, I went down to the reception room and happened to run into Jinling-jie. She was afraid you weren’t up yet and didn’t want to disturb you, so she asked me to bring this up.”

Xiao Jin and Xiao Yu were both here the last time Yang Jinling came over to borrow books, and they had gotten to know each other then. Xiao Yu placed the lunchbox on the table. “If you’re not going to eat this then put it in the fridge, she put quite a lot of time into it…” She was halfway through her sentence when quite a loud noise came from An Jie’s bedroom. It was Mo Cong who tipped over a pile of books on the bedside table in a state of unexplained stress.

Xiao Yu frowned faintly and glanced towards the bedroom – from what she could remember from coming over here before, An Jie-ge didn’t have a habit of shutting his bedroom door. When did he start?

Author’s notes: Writer’s block~~

This chapter… was even more painful than constipation. TAT

The title Jingzhe means the 3rd of the 24 solar terms in traditional Chinese calendars.