Chapter 44: Rejection

9TH MAY 2023~ VERALUCTL

Mo Cong seemed to be used to this cold-shoulder treatment and came up to An Jie without any care. “What happened, tired?”

He purposefully followed An Jie into his room. Thankfully, An Jie was too old to play coy and didn’t have the habit of slamming doors into other people’s faces.

Mo Cong, this piece of gum, stuck to him like he wanted to be cursed, insistent on getting some kind of response. Unfortunately, An Jie didn’t even have the energy to make fun of him. He ignored this pleading puppy and went straight to the small cabinet by the sofa and dragged out the first-aid kit, taking off his scarf and coat before looking at Mo Cong and then the door. Translating his actions into words, what he meant was: Why haven’t you gotten lost yet? You have eyes, right?

But Mo Cong was determined to play blind. Not even mentioning An Jie’s expression, he wouldn’t have left even if An Jie transformed into a swearing old woman. His eyes stared deadset at An Jie’s shoulder, his brows furrowed. “What happened? Didn’t you go to see an old friend? Who hurt you?”

An Jie sighed. He decided to not be so roundabout anymore and directly expressed his needs. “It’s just a graze, it’ll be fine with some disinfectant. You can leave now.”

“Let me see.” Mo Cong grabbed onto him without a word and carefully picked away the fleece vest and the shirt that had been scored open.

An Jie froze at the sudden approach, frowned, then pushed at Mo Cong’s shoulder.

The words ‘I’m going to do this, you can’t chase me away’ were practically written on Mo Cong’s face. An Jie gave up and stopped bothering with this walking inconvenience with an eye-roll. He didn’t care that Mo Cong was there and took off his fleece vest, pushed his shirt under his shoulders, and picked up a cotton swab. Dipping it in some alcohol, he rubbed it in expressionlessly and said softly, “You can’t walk by the river and not get your shoes wet. I am a lesson for you.”

He planned to use the skill ‘Tale of the Loser’ again to get rid of him, but it seemed too many things had happened in one day and he was running out of energy. He couldn’t form another sentence. An Jie looked up, saw that Mo Cong was standing right there with his expression a little dazed, and suddenly felt a rush of anger. He waved his hand impatiently. “Out, out, out, do what you need to do. I can’t be bothered to fuck about with your nonsense today; no matter how many warnings I give you, you’ll just ignore them.”

“You… You, you didn’t get hurt, right?” Mo Cong’s voice was a little muffled, even stammering slightly.

An Jie sneered. It was much lighter than that time you attacked me, you brat, he thought.

“Oh, that’s good.” This man whose mind could go through a million things in a heartbeat was suddenly at a loss for words; he had been speaking Chinese for so many years, yet he suddenly couldn’t figure out how to use full sentences.

Mo Cong suddenly averted his eyes, wandering around aimlessly as if An Jie’s unit had just gotten renovated. Normal people didn’t look beautiful when they undressed, but for Mo Cong, An Jie was nowhere near normal. And now this man was so nonchalantly undressing in front of him! Even though he didn’t strip fully, this feeling of hiding one’s face behind a lute was even more alluring.

Cotton swabs and wounded skin, collarbones that stood out from how thin he was, faint but flowing muscles… Mo Cong felt like if he didn’t make a run for it now, some embarrassing problems might happen with his nose. But his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could hear was the sound of his jumping heartbeat, all ability to think blasting off to outer space.

Mhm, in certain situations, young people had an incredible amount of firepower.

But what did this mean? It meant that An Jie didn’t see him as a man at all… Alright, no, maybe he only stripped because he did see him as a man. Mo Cong felt a wave of frustration surge over him.

The influence of the generational gap was huge; An Jie couldn’t understand this unfortunate child who suffered from fits in his eyes. He decided to ignore Mo Cong and instead go through every detail of those long-gone times he had forced himself to forget. About Li, about those ill-intentioned old acquaintances…

The R·Li in his memory was blurred. All that remained was a broad jaw, a hooked nose, and a pair of pure black eyes. He was someone who always stood at the top; others could look up to him, could hate him, be furious at him, but none could reach him, let alone surpass him. Even Li himself was so used to being in such a position that there came the day when he truly thought of himself as God. He never expected that someone like him who had reached the absolute top would one day fall down from the clouds.

It didn’t matter if he had died. For some reason, he was still alive. To once have defeated this man, An Jie had spent everything he had to understand him – Li was not someone to relent. Ever since he walked into An Jie’s trap and realized he had no means of escape, all that remained in his life was one thing: to suppress An Yin Hu and return to his legendary path.

Li was always that willful. He believed that life was a game of chess that could be restarted as long as all the pieces were in their rightful positions.

But An Jie was not An Yin Hu. An Yin Hu was an unruly, untamed youth; An Jie was his decade-older successor, a normal and exhausted man, used to wandering and lazing about. So Li forced him to somehow return to his youthful body, forced him to face his past – and now, he was forcing him to retrieve his old stoic and ruthless heart.

An Jie suddenly realized that from the very start in the desert, all the stormy tales of the past year had merely been a conspiracy controlled by someone behind the scenes.

Everyone had been R·Li’s actors, putting on the skins he wanted to see, walking through his life under a ghastly white light. This man after experiencing bitter betrayals and death returned even stronger.

An Jie’s wrist was suddenly clutched by someone, and his thoughts came to a screeching halt. Mo Cong had gotten down on one knee on the sofa at some point. He grabbed his cotton swab and pressed it lightly against his shoulder. “What are you doing? It was just a scratch but now its bleeding from you pressing down so hard.”

An Jie looked dazedly as he carefully wiped his wound with a cotton swab dipped in alcohol. The young man’s expression was focused as if treating a precious treasure; he moved lightly as if fearing he would hurt him. This man who was always either mean or indifferent suddenly appeared unspeakably gentle – An Jie thought, such a young man was truly born to bewitch.

So he sighed.

Mo Cong’s movement paused and he looked at An Jie nervously. “What happened? Does it hurt? Did I press down too hard?”

An Jie shook his head. As if deliberating his words, he paused a little before saying quietly, “It’s getting late, you should head back.”

Mo Cong lowered his head and carefully treated his wound. He chuckled. “I’ll go back when I’m finished with you; it makes me uneasy to leave you like this.”

His words were almost flirtatious. The two were extremely close to each other and Mo Cong’s breath ghosted over An Jie’s naked skin. This closeness made An Jie duck a little to the side in discomfort.

“Don’t move,” Mo Cong said in a slightly scornful tone. Even though An Jie knew it wasn’t very polite to get goosebumps now, he couldn’t control his reflexes. Mo Cong’s mouth twitched in understanding. “I know you’re not used to this. Didn’t I say I’ll chase after you? I’m prepared for a siege.”

An Jie realized in exasperation that the number of times he sighed increased every time he spoke to Mo Cong. He took a deep breath and tried to say in a normal tone, “I don’t think there is anything wrong with liking the same sex…”

Mo Cong’s hand shook and he looked at him with surprised joy.

An Jie felt his temple throb. “But I don’t think it’s right either.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index; a light shadow darkened his eyes, making him look a little low-spirited. “If you have no other choice, if you were born like this, then I hope you can find a partner who shares the same interests as you and has a matching age and identity. As long as you’re happy, you don’t have to care about what others say, but–”

An Jie half-opened his eyes to look at the youth; the trials of time gave him a certain deep wisdom, but also sapped away at his vitality. “But for you, this will forever be a thorny path. Society won’t accept you. So if you have any other choice, if you can like girls, I’d prefer if you could continue your studies, form a family, and build a career. I trust that if your father could see you where he is now, he would be comforted…”

Mo Cong held the ointment in his hand, tightening then loosening his grip. He suddenly shook his head and interrupted An Jie. “You don’t have to make such a big deal of it. An Jie, why don’t you understand that I’m actually…”

An Jie waved his hand. “If you’re not serious, then all the better. If you are serious, then I’ll tell you now: you’re wasting your time.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like men,” An Jie said quietly. “And in terms of a spouse, I have–”

“But she’s dead.” Mo Cong forced his heart to turn cold and dug at An Jie’s wounds. He wanted his man to walk out from his closed and self-righteous heart. “I know who you are, I’ve also investigated who you’re talking about. Hell can freeze over and heaven can fall, but she’ll still be dead. Can you stop using people that have already gone as your shield to discard someone else’s goodwill? Is your issue a side-effect of trying to act cool, or a form of masochism? She’s been dead for so many years and yet you keep bringing her up, she can’t even rest six feet under; aren’t you annoying?!”

An Jie closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Something seemed to have split in his head. Images flooded out from the recesses of his memories, unrelenting, unforgiving.

Mu Lian as she followed him, wiping her tears; Mu Lian as she sat in his lap and licked at ice-cream; Mu Lian as she laughed or as she chattered on; Mu Lian as she cried for him to stop.

She said, “An Jie, An Jie… it’s fine that you guys went a bit off after Uncle died. But why are you like this with your own brothers now? Jingming wants power, then give it to him. Can we leave? Together? You’re all living on a knife’s edge; I’m scared! An Jie, please, please!”

But what did he reply?

What did he…reply?

Why did he feel so much frustration and anger when he saw Mo Cong in his youthful indiscretion? Who did he see in this child?

It turned out the person he hated had always been himself, and himself alone. He had been forcing Mo Cong to bear the cross of his anger. It took all of his strength to hold back the flood of emotions that came with that. He said quietly, “I’m really tired. Go back.”

Mo Cong pulled him over silently, dressed his wounds, packed everything up, then pulled his shirt close. During that time An Jie was like a puppet, allowing him to do whatever he wanted.

Mo Cong stood up. As he arrived by the door, he suddenly stopped, then turned back. “I’ll wait.”

An Jie didn’t open his eyes. Like he was talking to himself, he replied, “A long time ago, they called me An Yin Hu. I believe since you were able to find out about Mu Lian, you should know who I am as well. When the year ends, I will be thirty-seven. Whether it was fate or man, although your father and I had only known each other for a short while, we had experienced death together… By reason, you should call me Uncle.”

That faint voice seemed to cut a trench a million mountains and seas wide between them. Veins popped up on Mo Cong’s hand as he gripped the door frame. After a while, he forced out, “I won’t give up.”

I won’t give up.

He slammed the door shut and left.