lingering fear

"For the next few days, I went out to sea like a zombie, fishing and selling fish..."

He Xiufang turned to the two boys, her eyes filled with tears: "Liang An's struggle when he fell into the water, his desire for life, reminded me of myself. I used to try so hard to live, to live a better life."

"When you came to deliver your thank-you gifts today, I had just finished dealing with... cleaning up the traces in the cold storage. I saw Shen Yuan's parents running towards me with a group of people, and I knew that things had been exposed. In the chaos, I could only steer the boat out of the dock and bring you here."

The story was over, and tranquility returned to the sea. The full moon had risen high in the sky, its gentle light still bathing the three of them.

He Xiufang gazed calmly at the full moon over the sea and said softly, "I'm sorry for dragging you into my tragedy. After dawn, I will send you back, and then go where I belong."

Liang An and Ling Xiao were momentarily at a loss for words. In the moonlight, He Xiufang's face appeared both fragile and resilient. This hardworking and kind woman, driven to desperation by life, made an extreme choice.

“Sister Xiufang…” Ling Xiao had just started to speak when He Xiufang interrupted him.

"Don't say anything more, I understand." She stood up, restarted the engine, and said, "Let's go back."

The fishing boat moved slowly along the silvery path paved with moonlight. Liang An and Ling Xiao nestled quietly together, watching the full moon gradually sink in the west. That night, they witnessed nature's most magnificent spectacle and heard humanity's most poignant stories.

When the "Qiongyu" returned to shore, the sky was already beginning to lighten. More people had gathered on the dock, including police officers. He Xiufang calmly tied the mooring ropes, turned to the two boys, and said:

"Thank you for listening quietly as I finish my story..."

She took a deep breath, straightened her collar, and resolutely stepped off the boat, walking towards the waiting crowd. Liang An and Ling Xiao saw her say something to the police, then extend her hands. The handcuffs gleamed coldly in the morning light.

Just before being taken away, He Xiufang looked back at the "Qiongyu" ship, her eyes filled with deep reluctance, but even more so with relief.

The crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only Liang An and Ling Xiao on the dock, along with the neat and clean "Qiongyu" fishing boat. In the morning light, the fishing boat lay quietly moored, as if nothing had happened.

Ling Xiao gripped Liang An's hand tightly, and the two stood in silence for a while before turning and leaving.

After walking a few steps, Liang An looked back at the "Qiongyu" boat. The Qiongyu boat is still there, but the fishing village girl who once looked forward to life has disappeared forever in the wear and tear of married life.

The sea breeze brought the breath of a new day. The sun rose from the horizon, its golden rays bathing the sea in light, making last night's moonlight seem like nothing more than a dream. But Liang An knew that the night the moon rose over the sea, and the story He Xiufang calmly recounted, would forever remain deep in his memory.

He held Ling Xiao's hand tightly. In the face of unpredictable fate and cruel reality, being able to hold the hand of the one he loved was already a great fortune.

-----------------

The Qiongzhou Evening News provided a complete report on the cause, process, and outcome of the He Xiufang incident. This tragedy, in which the wife retaliated against her husband's domestic violence, briefly topped the trending searches online. A flood of comments poured in—astonishment, skepticism, anger, and mockery—weaving a dense web of public opinion.

Liang An quickly browsed through the comments on his phone, realizing that the He Xiufang they were talking about was not the He Xiufang he remembered. He didn't participate in this media frenzy, but instead turned off his phone, forcing himself to withdraw from the complex discourse.

The black bracelet on her left wrist trembled slightly before settling back down.

Night fell heavily, like a piece of velvet soaked in cool water. The clamor of the crowd on the dock, the short, lingering sound of police sirens, and He Xiufang's last, almost ethereal gaze all came back to him. Liang An leaned against the headboard; the room light was warm and yellow, but it couldn't dispel the invisible, damp chill surrounding him.

When Ling Xiao was around, he always appeared calm, but when he was alone, those images would uncontrollably surge up—He Xiufang's empty eyes when she talked about the first time she was beaten, her terrifyingly calm tone when she recounted hiding the corpse under the moonlight, and the soft click of the handcuffs in the early morning, cold and crisp, like cutting a string that had been taut for a long time.

He felt a belated, subtle tremor creeping up from the base of his spine.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door. The sound was restrained, with a familiar rhythm.

"Come in." Liang An cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal.

The door opened, and Ling Xiao walked in carrying a mug. Warm white steam rose in wisps, carrying a rich, milky scent. He was wearing soft gray loungewear, his hair still slightly damp, probably from a recent shower, and his clean, faint scent of soap dispelled the heavy, stagnant atmosphere in the room.

"Can't sleep?" Ling Xiao walked to the bedside and naturally handed him a cup. "I heated up some milk for you."

Liang An took it, the warm porcelain instantly soothing his slightly cool fingertips. He lowered his head and took a sip; the sweetness was just right, and the warmth slid down his esophagus, as if it truly melted away some of the chill in his body. "Can't sleep either?"

"Mmm." Ling Xiao sat down on the edge of the bed, not too close, but his presence was clear and reassuring. "When I close my eyes, I see the sea, the moon, and... the way she speaks."

Liang An took another sip of milk and remained silent for a moment. "I'm a little cold," he said, his voice revealing a hint of dependence that he himself was unaware of.

Ling Xiao reached out, not to hug him, but to place his hand on the back of Liang An's hand that was holding the cup. The boy's palm was warm and dry, carrying a reassuring strength. "It's not that you're cold," he said softly, his gaze falling on Liang An's face with a knowing tenderness, "You're just frightened. Me too."

That simple "Me too" strangely shattered the last shred of composure Liang An was trying to maintain. He put down his cup, the porcelain clinking softly against the wooden bedside table. He turned around, his forehead gently resting on Ling Xiao's shoulder.

Ling Xiao relaxed, wrapping her arms around his back and embracing him with complete acceptance. It was an embrace that transcended the usual ambiguity or tentative advances; it was tight, silent, and filled with the comforting thrill of shared moments. They leaned against each other quietly, listening to their breathing and heartbeats gradually synchronizing.

“Life seems unfair to everyone. Li Yuwen, Li Wei, Sister He…” Liang An raised his head, his eyes still filled with lingering fear and a desire for confirmation.

"Mmm." Ling Xiao gently brushed the corner of Liang An's slightly reddened eyes with the pad of his thumb, a gesture so natural it seemed he'd done it a thousand times. "So, I'm lucky to have met someone as wonderful as you. Even luckier, I love you, and you happen to love me too..."

His words were like a warm current flowing into Liang An's heart.

They had just confirmed their feelings for each other when the world revealed its cruel and real side to them.

They witnessed a tragedy together, drifted together on the unpredictable high seas, were bathed in the same moonlight, and now share the lingering tremors.

This "shared" bond forged their hazy, sweet first love into something more concrete and resilient—an alliance willing to be honest and vulnerable with each other and support one another in the face of life's complexities.

The black bracelet on Liang An's left wrist flickered dimly, like a extinguished spark, revealing the last vestige of its struggle.

Liang An finally felt the chill that had risen from the depths of his heart dissipate. He sat up straight and looked at Ling Xiao. Under the lamplight, his features were clear and gentle, his worry and concern written in them without any concealment.

"The milk is getting cold," Ling Xiao said, handing the cup back to him.

Liang An took the glass and drank the rest of the milk in one gulp. The warm liquid filled his stomach and seemed to fill a void in his heart. He put the empty glass aside, then naturally rested his head on Ling Xiao's lap, lay down, and faced the ceiling.

Ling Xiao smiled, running her fingers through his soft hair, gently combing it. The gesture was intimately intimate, yet utterly peaceful.

"The sun will rise as usual tomorrow," Ling Xiao said, his voice as gentle as a night breeze.

"Um."

"But life... will go on."

Liang An closed his eyes. Yes, life goes on. With scars, with regrets, but also with new understanding and strength.

In this quiet night, in this room filled with the aroma of milk, in their silent companionship, the shock and sorrow brought by that moonlit night at sea gradually settled down, no longer just a sharp pain, but transformed into a more profound understanding of the future, of responsibility, and of the word "cherish".

Liang An's breathing gradually became long and steady.

Ling Xiao's fingers were still lingering in Liang An's hair, his fingertips unconsciously stroking his soft strands. The room was quiet, so quiet that the faint sound of distant waves could be heard outside the window, along with their steady breathing. Liang An's eyes were closed, his eyelashes casting soft shadows beneath them. The tense lines between his brows had finally faded, but the composure he had maintained during the day had been stripped away, revealing a deeper, quieter weariness.

Ling Xiao looked down at him.

The lamplight cast a soft, warm glow on Liang An's profile, highlighting the curve of his nose, his slightly parted lips, and the slender lines of a young man's jaw. Watching him lie so defenselessly on his lap, entrusting his weight so completely to him, everything they had experienced together these past few days—the hustle and bustle of the docks, the solitude at sea, the awe under the moonlight, and He Xiufang's calm narration of her breathtaking life—all surged and settled within Ling Xiao's heart, ultimately transforming into an almost overflowing tenderness, a mixture of heartache and cherished affection.

He bent down.

The movements were light and slow, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the moment, or as if confirming some kind of permission. Liang An seemed to sense the subtle change in the light above, or the gradually approaching warm aura belonging to Ling Xiao. His eyelashes trembled, but he did not open them.

Then, a kiss landed very gently on Liang An's forehead.

The dry, warm touch, like a feather brushing against him, carried a soothing quality, dispelling the last trace of chill. Lingxiao lingered for a moment before slowly moving away.

Liang An's eyelids twitched, and he finally opened his eyes. There was no surprise in his eyes, only a warm, clear light reflecting the lamplight and his own shadow. He quietly looked back at Ling Xiao, without saying a word, but simply raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching the spot where he had just been kissed, then sliding down to grasp Ling Xiao's other hand, which was hanging by his side.

Fingertips touching conveys a silent understanding.

Ling Xiao's lips curved into a very faint, gentle smile. He lowered his head again, this time targeting Liang An's lips. There was no eagerness, no aggression, just a reduction in the distance between them until their breaths were audible. He could smell the lingering sweetness of milk on Liang An's lips, mixed with the clean scent of the young man himself.

The kiss was light, like the first light of moonlight on the sea, carrying a tentative warmth, fleeting and brief. Yet it spoke more powerfully than any words: "I am here."

"I understand."

"We are all safe now."

Liang An responded by closing her eyes, tilting her head back slightly, and letting herself immerse herself in this gentle, almost sacred touch.

The kiss was brief. When they parted, both were slightly breathless, but their eyes were clearer and more determined than ever before. A faint blush rose on Liang An's cheeks. He didn't flinch, still holding Ling Xiao's hand, his knuckles tightening slightly.

"Are you feeling better?" Ling Xiao's voice was a little hoarse as he stroked Liang An's hand with his thumb.

Liang An nodded, then pressed her face back against his leg, this time with a faint, genuine smile of relaxation. "Mmm."

The night is still long, but some warmth is enough to light the way to dawn. And they are walking together on this road.