rainstorm
The wind howled as the off-road vehicle drove back from the town of Maka to the rainforest cabin. The sea outside the harbor was turbulent, like an angry beast roaring.
Gangu has no airport, only a port, and everyone leaving must temporarily stop at the liveaboard club.
The liveaboard houses are mostly detached single rooms, scattered along the edge of the jungle, some built on the water and connected to the land by piers. The accompanying staff helped them with their luggage, arranged for them to go to their assigned rooms, and reminded them that it was the rainy season and that strong winds and rains could affect their travel, so staying indoors was the safest option.
At the port, Sigon and the others saw Miles and his group off. As they were seeing them off at the port, a sudden downpour began, and a blue-eyed, black-haired boy was grabbed and pulled off a ship that had come to an abrupt stop, trembling like a fledgling bird.
From a distance, Xigong squinted and asked the people below, "What's going on?"
The boy was forced in front of Sigon.
“Nonai arranged for us to escort him out of the country, but he was dishonest and stole money from several farmers, so we caught him.”
Nonai immediately frowned, wanting to explain, but saw Sigon reach out and stop her.
The boy was timid, his two green eyes constantly scanning the people around him. When he saw Milo, he reacted violently, shouting repeatedly in Spanish, "You said you would come back and let me go! You said it! Liar! You're a liar!"
Milo remained stiff and silent.
Steven, standing nearby, suddenly narrowed his eyes. He could, of course, understand what the child was shouting.
In the San Silvio Cathedral in Wanyang, the priest that Theo Green often hung out with was a Spaniard. Over time, even Steven, who often accompanied him, could understand a few words of Spanish.
Sigon turned his head slightly to look at Milo and asked, "Child, can you translate what he's saying for me?"
Milo said calmly, “I don’t understand. But it was indeed me who asked Nonai to let him go. He’s nothing, just a performer on the cruise ship’s show. He poses no threat to you.”
Upon hearing this, Xigong nodded, waved his hand, and the boy was released. He stared blankly around and seemed to understand that he had been forgiven.
The kind-faced, bald old man nodded slightly, allowing him to turn and leave.
At the very moment the boy turned around, Sigon glanced sideways and saw a burly man standing beside him react instantly, drawing his gun and swiftly pulling the trigger.
The boy was shot in the back of the head and fell face down into the muddy water. Blood spread rapidly as the rain washed over him. People nearby immediately came forward to drag his body away and found a bunch of small-denomination banknotes and coins, as well as a few melted hard candies, in his pockets.
This happened so suddenly that everyone was startled, even Blaze frowned.
Milo's pupils contracted, as if the bullet had hit him. He instinctively raised his hand to touch his ear, almost like a knee-jerk reaction.
This scene struck Steven, who was already harboring doubts, like a thunderbolt to his brain.
Every New Year, custom-made art fireworks are set off on the Wanyang cross-sea bridge, and the elders of both families watch with amusement as their children playfully frolic. Steven's favorite thing to do is push Theo to the lawn in the courtyard, light the firework fountain in his hand with a lit cigarette, and then run away immediately, mischievously watching Theo frantically run, only to be startled by the sound of the fireworks exploding and touch his ear. Every time he succeeds, Steven turns to the adults and imitates Theo's little actions, mocking his ramen-like courage, saying he'd crumble at the slightest touch. Theo, however, is very good-natured and never gets angry; his ears just turn red as he stands on the lawn, looking up at the firework fountain with bright eyes, and he'll even turn to ask Steven if the fireworks are beautiful.
Steven felt his breath catch in his throat. He looked at Milo's face, and all the blood in his body seemed to rush backward.
Sigon looked at Milo with some regret and said, "It looks like it's going to rain heavily. Why don't you stay the night before you leave?"
Stiff as a corpse, Milo was led by Miles toward their temporary loft cabin.
Blaze stood quietly on the harbor pier, his gaze following the departing figures of Milo and the others, the wind whipping his coat in the wind.
Sigon slowly walked to Blaise's side: "I hit you for your own good, to teach you a lesson and make you remember how you were manipulated this time."
Noticing Blaise's resistant silence, Sigon said, "Do you think I'm heartless? For someone like that, selling himself cheaply and living like a rat isn't necessarily happiness. Ending his suffering early is actually an act of kindness. Besides, 'better to kill a hundred innocent people than let one guilty person go free'—do I need to teach you that principle again?"
Blaise remained silent.
Xigong broke the silence: "Don't think I don't know that you've been putting Steven under pressure in Wudong Port, and almost killed him at the Dale family's funeral. If I hadn't had Little Nonai keeping an eye on things, were you planning to kill him in Wudong Port? I sent you to Wudong Port to give you a chance to gain experience, but you need to know that your roots are here. Don't lose your life in Wudong Port for something unrelated."
Blaise looked away.
Xigong narrowed his eyes slightly: "When I pointed out Steven's words, I was also pointing them out to you. Don't think I don't know you also want to bring him to Gan Valley. You think you can get rid of him quietly here? Let me tell you clearly today, Steven cannot be killed by you, and he certainly cannot be killed by you in Gan Valley. Don't treat the police there like they're useless. No one knows how many bargaining chips Bobby Thornton gave him to save his life. More importantly, his name is Thornton. If you kill him, you'll cut off his family's escape route, which might attract another madman with the name Thornton. That would be the real trouble."
Blaze's gaze remained cold and unyielding; the raging wind couldn't dispel the chill in his eyes. He didn't respond, only his lips remained tightly pressed together.
Xigong softened his tone and advised, "Ultimately, it was Bobby Thornton and Tate Daller who killed the Green family; it was a power struggle within their own Port Martial East, not just Steven. What's the point of killing him? What's next? Are you going to kill your older brother and exterminate the entire clan of both families? And then what? Are you going to kill me before you're done?"
Xigong frowned, a hint of confusion in his voice: "I just don't understand, what's so great about that Theo Green? That little bit of friendship between seven or eight years old, lasting only three months or so, is it really worth pushing yourself to this point?"
Blaise wanted to refute, but he couldn't express it and could only think of the answer in his mind.
One shouldn't become too attached to someone who only appears briefly. Unless, of course, that person is Theo Green.
Theo Green was certainly good, so good that he felt ashamed of himself, so good that he was unforgettable. Others could not understand, and he did not want others to understand.
Sigon sighed, "I really like that face. Wouldn't it be the same to keep Milo? It would save you from tormenting yourself every day."
Blaise lowered his eyes and simply shook his head.
There is only one Theo Green in this world.
Not Theo Green, he doesn't want any of them.
*
The rain pattered softly, and lush ivy meandered up the walls, reflecting the light of raindrops onto the stained glass windows of the church.
A stray cat was curled up in the corner of a flower bed, its fur disheveled, its hind legs bandaged, and it looked at him helplessly with wet eyes.
He crouched down, extended his finger, and the white cat, smelling the lingering scent of blood on his fingertip, couldn't help but lick it with its tongue.
A pair of white shoes came into view: "Mimi, why are you running around again?" A very cool voice.
He couldn't help but stand up, feeling awkward because he hadn't had time to buy a new outfit and was still wearing the dirty clothes he had brought on the ferry, which smelled of rotten fish and shrimp.
The boy picked up the kitten, put it in the box, took a couple of steps, then suddenly turned back and handed him the umbrella: "You didn't bring an umbrella, did you? Today's church service is over, go home early."
He reached out and took it, stunned, wanting to say something but unable to speak. "Do you remember me? Ten years ago, you asked me if I would come back to find you." But some words didn't need to be spoken; the person before him clearly didn't remember him.
Rain dripped down his eyelashes, and he replied in the language he had learned over the years: "Thank you."
The boy suddenly stopped walking.
There might be incense burning in the church, otherwise where would such a pleasant scent come from? He felt the boy walking towards him again step by step, and the fresh fragrance gradually entered his nostrils.
The boy in front of me asked uncertainly, "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before?"
Meow. The kitten in the box meowed.
"Your voice is so beautiful," the boy said with a smile.
No one had ever praised him like that before. This pure and sacred kindness was foreign to him; he didn't need to establish his excellence through killing or competition. Being praised was something that made him feel ashamed and resistant, because it was so foreign to him.
He lowered his head, unsure of where to look.
"Are you here to sign up for the choir?" the boy asked.
After the rain, the sky was dyed orange-red by the setting sun, and the evening glow was magnificent.
The distance between them seemed so close, as if they could reach out and touch. He shook his head and deliberately created some distance.
He was content with just a quick visit.
"It's okay. But if you change your mind, remember to come back."
Is just one glance enough?
Stop lying to yourself.
From then on, he would often squeeze into the crowd on Sundays and sit in the last row of the cathedral, silently watching the boy playing the piano on stage. Listening to his music and memorizing his melodies was like learning a new language, each word etched into his mind.
As the crowd disappeared, he felt an urge to slowly hum the hymn they were singing, guided by his instincts. But halfway through, he felt his behavior was strange and wanted to leave in disgust. Turning around, he noticed a boy standing not far away, holding a burning white candle and quietly gazing at him in the dim, hazy light.
His face flushed instantly, as if he were being spied on while completely naked.
"Your singing voice is so beautiful, why are you hiding it?"
He lowered his head and after a long while managed to squeeze out a sentence: "It's strange, I feel like an idiot."
"The Lord has not given us a fearful heart, but a strong, loving, and self-disciplined heart."
The boy put down the white candlestick, took off the cross necklace from his neck, and put it on the other person's body while standing on tiptoe.
“You’ve come here, so you’re a child of the Lord. We’re no different. If you’re foolish, then am I the biggest fool?”
"No..." How could you be so silly? You're the best.
“My name is Theo Green. It’s been so long, and I still don’t know your name.”
What's his name? He didn't know how to say his name in Chinese, and he couldn't answer that question at all.
The boy didn't make things difficult for him. He simply said, "Next time you come, you can try recording a song, okay? I'll accompany you. We have a cassette tape here. Take it home and listen to it a few times, and you'll see how good your voice is."
During his thirteen weeks in Wanyang, he went there thirteen times, every Sunday without fail, rain or shine, but he didn't always have the chance to run into that person. He could have simply gone to his house to find him, since the Green family's house was just a wall away from his home in Wanyang.
But he didn't really want to do that.
He desperately wanted the world to be desolate when they met, with no one else interfering, so that Theo Green could simply be his Theo Green, even if only for a second.
The last time I saw Theo Green, he handed me a silver invitation as soft as velvet—it was for a coming-of-age ceremony.
He said, "You must come! I want to introduce you to my best friend. He doesn't believe there's anyone with such a beautiful voice."
The coming-of-age ceremony was scheduled for 9 a.m. the following day, but he was unable to attend.
In the middle of the night, as the rain poured down, his sick mother suddenly developed a fever. He knocked on every door in the villa, but no one answered. It was as if everyone had disappeared overnight for some important event.
He carried his emaciated mother on his back, broke through the villa fence, and flagged down a car in the rain. Finally, two boys standing next to the flower bed noticed him.
One of them was smoking a cigarette, while the other rushed toward him.
The rain was so heavy that he could only hear a gentle and calm voice reassuring him: "It's you? Don't worry, I'll take you to the hospital."
They sped along, and the red light in the emergency room stayed on for more than six hours. He clasped his hands together and accepted his death sentence in indifference and silence.
The woman with whom he had little affection, the woman who, even when ill, only sent him a message to visit, died just like that.
The person who had been sitting next to him the whole time put his hand on his shoulder and silently sat with him until dawn, without getting tired or annoyed. He just said, "Cry, the Lord will wipe away all your tears. You will no longer be afraid of death, nor will you have sorrow, crying, or pain, because the Lord will always be with you."
His tears seemed to finally fall then. He turned around and hugged the other person, stretching his arms to hold them tightly in his body.
At this moment, the grief brought by the loss of a family member seems to be no greater or lesser than the amount of emotion involved.
After crying for a while, he regained his composure. He advised the boy to go back to where he belonged. After all, it was his birthday, and he didn't need to wallow in his pain with him.
So, Theo Green left.
In the narrow corridor, a tall, slender figure cast a long shadow against the light, gradually becoming indistinct.
When he signed the death certificate and returned to the Western-style villa with that thin piece of paper, he saw only towering flames that seemed to devour everything.
Standing in the courtyard of the Western-style villa were his father and his older brother, whom he had only met a few times. Beside them stood another family, including a young man who was the one he had seen smoking the night before. He was now slumped on the lawn in despair, staring blankly at the sky.
The father turned around, a hint of approval in his eyes: "Who would have thought that you would do us such a big favor? Without you taking him away for a night, things might not have gone so smoothly."
He felt as if he had been struck by a bolt from the blue.
"Do you think I don't know what you're thinking? Your infatuation with him is so great that it's destined that he must die. I have high hopes for you."
He crumpled the death notice into a ball, pushed his father aside, bumped into his older brother, and rushed into the fire. As the heat rolled over him, he desperately called out his name.
"Theo Green—Theo—Theo—!!"
He screamed hoarsely, his throat tasted metallic, and the pungent black smoke filled his lungs, making his eyes water uncontrollably and even causing a ringing in his ears.
For a fleeting moment, he seemed to be hallucinating. In the firelight, Theo Green turned around, his skin charred and bloodied, his eyes gaping open as he stared at him, crying out in a blood-curdling voice, "You lied to me! You all lied to me!!!"
"No--"
Blaze jolted awake from his dream, a hoarse, muffled sound escaping his throat. He was drenched in cold sweat, and as he came to his senses, he realized that a fierce storm was raging outside, and his alarm clock was buzzing loudly.
Tropical Cyclone Haiyan is about to make landfall, and all ports in the Gan Valley have been closed. Torrential rains are pouring down, and the rainforest has entered a state of emergency.
Blaze turned off the alarm and got up. He took off his sweat-soaked clothes, rolled up a black short-sleeved shirt and put it on, then rummaged through the closet for a black protective suit.
Opening the tool bag, you'll find knives, incense sticks, and everything else you need, along with a carefully stuffed waterproof body bag.
Steven must die.
He pushed open the door, and into the dark night, amidst the raging wind and rain, he strode steadily toward Steven's loft cabin.
A figure swept past him, disappearing into the rainy night like a ghost.
Amidst the lightning and thunder, Blaze saw what that face looked like.
It was Milo.
In an instant, Blaze frowned and hurried to catch up with the man, his feet crunching over a tattered banana leaf.
Banana leaves were swirling and flying everywhere. On the boardwalk of the boat house, Yuzhen stood quietly in the rain, looking at the person with his back to him, and said earnestly, "I am no longer of any use to you. Please let me go home. As for the remaining money, I don't want it."
The man's voice was deep: "Have you made up your mind?"
Yuma nodded: "I've made up my mind, I'm leaving."
The man was silent for a moment, then granted his request: "You will still get the money; you will receive the final payment."
"Thank you." Yuzhen took a deep breath, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her heart.
He was supposed to leave, but the port was locked down, and it seemed he would have to stay another night. Yu really wanted to talk to Milo again and leave him all the savings she had accumulated; only then could he leave with peace of mind.
I knocked on the door and called his name softly several times, but Milo didn't come to open it.
The rain was getting heavier, but Yuzhen had no intention of giving up. He squatted by the door and suddenly saw a black figure hurrying through the rainforest.
He couldn't see the face clearly, but he was tall. There weren't many people with this feature in the Gan Valley, and he only recognized one.
The image of Blaze kicking his knee and bullying Milo was still fresh in his mind.
So late, carrying a bag, where is he going? Could it be that he's going to hurt Milo?
Yu Zhen had a sudden thought and, without thinking twice, got up and followed Blaze's shadow from a distance, seeing him head towards another boat house.
Inside a cabin at the liveaboard club, the wind was howling, and the windows were rattling loudly as it blew against them.
The door creaked open, and a person wearing a dark blue raincoat quietly entered the house, walked around the furnishings, and went straight to the inner room.
A person was lying on the sofa, his long, straight legs crossed. There were about a dozen cigarette butts on the coffee table, and he was surrounded by wisps of smoke, which gave off a strong orchid fragrance.
The intruder slowly walked up to the person and stopped.
Steven exhaled, not looking at the person who came, but simply lowering his eyes. Smoke billowed from his nostrils, giving off a languid and decadent air.
“I never thought this day would come.” Steven said, flicking his cigarette ash. “I never thought we’d meet again in this lifetime.”
The intruder remained unmoved, and rainwater slowly dripped down his raincoat, gathering into a vast expanse of water.
Steven stubbed out his black gold cigarette, lowered his eyes, and licked his lips, saying, "You've changed, changed so much I don't even recognize you. But we've been friends for so many years, I'm probably more familiar with your little habits than you are with yourself." He chuckled to himself twice, his expression just like back then, "When you're scared, you touch your ears, you still have that same courage."
The intruder stretched out a long, slender hand and slowly removed the raincoat from his head, revealing a face soaked by the rain.
His hair was soaked by the rain, clinging wetly to his pale, paper-like cheeks. His nose was high and straight, and his jawline was smooth. Rainwater trickled down his eyebrows and eyes, giving him an eerie look.
Steven finally looked up at the intruder, and with just one glance, the fingers holding the cigarette involuntarily twitched.
He remembered that Theo actually had a small light brown mole under his right eye and on the tip of his nose, which would twitch when he smiled, making one's heart melt. But the person in front of him didn't have that; all that remained was an almost sculpted exquisiteness, making him... feel unfamiliar.
"Xiao, it's been a long time...not to be seen."
Milo's eyes calmly looked down at Steven, those eyes that had always been peaceful and gentle when they were Theo Green, but now they were filled with an icy chill.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
