Chapter 39
The crowd stood beneath the vast night sky, drawn into the tranquil narrative of the spring by the songs and zither music. Though its end may be depletion, it has already flowed through the scenery along the way.
On stage, a spotlight shone on a girl in a thin red dress. She stood still with her hands clasped in the air and sang a joyful song of life from the mountain spring.
After two high notes, Song Yihuan put down the microphone, her chest heaving violently—she should go in Chi Ran's direction.
Chi Ran sat behind the screen, his ten fingers dancing gracefully. Although he wasn't facing her, she could tell he was waiting for her.
She lifted the hem of her dress, which was sticking out of her hand, and walked towards him step by step, her footsteps echoing the soft murmur of the dried-up spring water. The interlude was only five seconds long, and she still had three lines of lyrics left to sing as she walked.
As Song Yihuan walked, she raised the microphone and spoke—
The melody suddenly took a clever turn, the gurgling spring fell silent for a moment, and then turned into rising steam.
The five-second interlude suddenly transformed into a long, energetic bridge. His slender fingers danced across the guqin, and he tilted his head slightly toward her.
Song Yihuan instantly recognized the melody, her steps faltered, and she even forgot to put down the microphone.
It is Icarus.
He cleverly incorporated her favorite piano piece into the composition and played it on the guqin.
The original song for Icarus tells the story of a brave adventurer who flies towards the sun with wax wings, but melts and falls as he gets infinitely close to the sun.
Regret, but also freedom.
So, how would you describe the performance of Icarus on the guqin, blending it into the song "Ku"?
It was probably the spring water that met the bluish flames, causing the water vapor to rise and be carried far by the monsoon winds, blowing to all the continents of the world.
After that, the dried-up spring water turned into every rain that falls in the world.
Song Yihuan was so engrossed in the constantly jumping and falling music that she didn't come to her senses for a long time before taking a step towards him.
Almost at the same time, a cool drop of water fell on her forehead.
It's raining.
The moment the rain fell, the heat of spring vanished completely. People stretched out their hands towards the sky, as if to catch the raindrops, or as if to vent their frustration.
The sound of the rain mingled with the melody, making the descent seem grand and magnificent.
Her already shimmering red dress was infused with another transparent hue: rain. The wet sleeves drooped down, making each step she took seem exceptionally firm.
Step by step, she approached Chi Ran in the rain.
The moment she stood beside him, he smiled and raised an eyebrow at her. Icarus quietly returned to its original interlude, and she gently brought the microphone to her lips.
"I long for the endless mountains and rivers, until spring comes tomorrow and the waters reach their end..."
"Without dreams, without sleep, and without self, let us not lament the sorrow of parting upon our reunion..."
The moment the music stopped, the girl's clear voice soared into the sky, drifting away on the rain.
"The vast expanse of water and mist, I raise my cup, but have nothing to say to you!"
All the spotlights converged, shining from afar onto the stage screen. Everything was pitch black, except for the screen, which shone brightly, reflecting silhouettes.
One standing, one sitting.
Watching over each other from afar.
The fingertips of the two fingers are touching, seemingly close yet distant, as if desperately trying to get closer, or as if frozen in place.
Song Yihuan stood behind the screen, her heart pounding like a drum, almost drowning out the applause and cheers erupting from the crowd. In that moment of overwhelming excitement, she suddenly saw Chi Ran turn his head slightly, facing her.
Her lips moved silently, and glistening raindrops fell from the peaks of her lips.
He said, "I promised to grant your wish."
Only in this way can it be considered that a wish has come true.
The moment he smiled, countless spotlights suddenly went out, his silhouette disappeared, and the world returned to darkness.
The moment the light went out, Song Yihuan lunged at him and kissed him.
Rain streamed down her cheeks toward him, and without hesitation, he leaned closer, letting himself get soaked.
The rain is getting heavier.
The downpour brought couples along the way closer together under their umbrellas, huddled together, inseparable.
The car windows were fogged up with moisture, the seats were damp, the body temperature seemed to come from near and far... and the sound of breathing was amplified by the enclosed environment.
Then came the sound of the showerhead running.
Hot water was poured down, and steam rose up, saving two people who were soaked and shivering from the rain.
Song Yihuan leaned against the bathroom glass, which was neither cold nor hot, and gasped for breath uncontrollably.
Chi Ran didn't hug her, only their palms touched skin to skin. He asked, "Have you thought it through?"
It is a question, but it doesn't carry much of a questioning connotation.
Hot water poured down his head, enveloping him in steam, his chest heaving, the water flowing fast and slow. Her face was pressed against his palm, the warm water creating a barrier, making it impossible for them to be truly close, to feel completely satisfied.
Chi Ran lowered his eyes, his grayish pupils looking over, his gaze landing on her face.
"You're the one who's thought it through?" Song Yihuan stared at him and asked in return.
If she were to ask him, the question would be rather absurd.
But his answer came down with the sound of water, clearly saying, "Mmm."
The water, cooled by body heat, was no longer scalding, and its flow path was completely altered. The wet coat was tossed on the ground, making a damp sound.
Breathing suddenly transforms from an instinct into something cumbersome, into an obstacle to overcome, into a trivial matter that is difficult to attend to in the midst of urgency.
The slow-burning passion was tinged with a lot of hardship, and he had to slow down—unable to locate and judge with his eyes, he had to rely on his fingertips to guide him.
The fingertips were hotter than hot water, bringing a shiver and creating subtle ripples wherever they touched.
They embraced and explored each other until the steam filled the air, until the mirror was covered in heat, until they found each other's keys and switches.
"You like it very much."
He withdrew his fingertip, frowned, and panted as he approached her, drawing his conclusion.
He's right.
Chi Ran's hand movements were patient and meticulous, the warmth lingering on every inch of her skin, the afterglow of which lingered for a long time.
At certain moments, Song Yihuan felt exceptionally grateful for the birthday gifts Guoguo gave her, which prevented her from being intimidated by this unfamiliar yet intense feeling.
She felt no fear or unease, so she never said "no" or "stop" throughout the entire process, only saying "let's do it again," "okay," and "that's it."
During this time, she was so brave as to seize the initiative, taking control of the other person's pleasure. While doing this, she kissed him fiercely until she tasted the sweet, metallic taste of blood, not knowing whose it was.
"...You too, you like it too." She said such brave words, but her voice became very hoarse.
Chi Ran inhaled, as if wanting to say something more. Those eyes, which were always empty and gray, suddenly filled with a lot of things that she couldn't understand.
My heart pounded so hard it made my chest tingle, and I couldn't tell whose heart it was.
"I..." He started to speak but then stopped, lowering his head to kiss her cheek to stop himself from saying anything more.
"What?" she pressed.
"Let's try something else."
He pulled the person out of the glass shower enclosure, reached out, and wiped the condensation off the mirror. The condensation condensed into water droplets that rolled down the mirror.
The water droplets were very cool, and when they dripped onto my skin, I would shiver slightly.
He kept tilting his head to kiss her, and after each kiss, he would reach over her body, grab her chin with his other hand, and force her to look straight ahead.
Song Yihuan hadn't kissed him enough. So she repeatedly turned her head to look for his lips.
"Hey, look ahead." He used a bit of force to turn her back, forcing her to look forward. "Is this mirror meant for me?"
Song Yihuan's gaze fell on the mirror, avoiding looking directly at it.
There was too much steam. Although he had just wiped the mirror, it quickly condensed again, making it impossible to see anything clearly. Therefore, she hadn't thought of it that way earlier.
The moment she understood, her ears turned bright red, and she instinctively turned her face away, but he held her firmly so she wouldn't turn away.
"If you're nervous, look at me." His breath was unsteady. "...Look at me."
Bewitched by those words, Song Yihuan stared intently at him. His silhouette was hidden beneath a thin layer of mist, but his smooth and beautiful lines were still clearly visible.
"...I can't see clearly, there's moisture in the air," she said softly, dissatisfied.
"Then wipe it."
The next second, he grabbed her hand and pressed it against the mirror. He guided her, inch by inch, wiping away the imperfections, her vision clearing inch by inch...
Chi Ran stayed close to her from beginning to end, their body temperatures touching, their breaths mingling. Gentle kisses landed on her earlobes and the top of her hair, the intense feelings that had not yet subsided turning into tenderness in the intimate kisses.
He covered her head with a towel, dried her for a while, and then kissed her. He dried her very carefully, and even his kisses were slow.
During this long process, they remained silent, letting themselves immerse themselves in the tender atmosphere.
When Song Yihuan rested her head on his chest, all she could hear was his heartbeat.
Her hair was half-dry, cascading across his chest like ocean waves, and he twirled a strand of it with his fingertips.
"Little Pink." He brought a strand of hair close to his eyes and called her softly.
"It's so dark, how can you see any pink?"
"I can't see it," he said with a smile.
His fingertips darted through his pink hair, as if he were chasing a playful fish in a vast ocean.
Song Yihuan was exhausted and couldn't even lift her hand, but she couldn't bear to go to sleep.
"Slow-burning".
"how?"
"Slow-burning".
"Little Pink," he called her, "what are you doing?"
"Slow-burning".
"......exist."
Song Yihuan wanted to keep calling out, even though she had already repeated those two short words countless times, she still hadn't had enough.
not enough.
These two words themselves carry endless tenderness; they are her beautiful dream. All the beauty of her life, unreservedly held, is tied to these two words. How could it be enough?
After all, when the sun rises, the dream will end.
She propped herself up and sat up, pressing her lips to Chi Ran's to kiss him. It was a gentle kiss, devoid of lust. What was it about?
have no idea.
She gently explored the boundary, and he responded tenderly; it was so beautiful that it made one want to melt.
"...Why are you crying?" he asked.
Before she even realized it, tears had already fallen on his cheeks, a farewell kiss on his behalf.
"I'm... very happy. From the stage until now, I'm very happy," she said.
He mimicked her and said in a strange voice, "Happy~~"
"Chi Ran," she repeated.
"Mm," he replied.
She asked, "How long have we known each other?"
“Three months,” Chi Ran laughed, “a whole spring.”
“A whole spring,” she couldn’t help but repeat, “So…so fitting.”
"Don't cry, we'll have many more seasons to go." He kissed me.
Song Yihuan felt she wanted to say something more. There were so many romantic and heartwarming things to say at this moment, and those words welled up and almost burst forth, but she didn't say anything.
No words are worthy of this moment, no words are worthy of him.
She could only silently hold his lips, tears streaming down her face.
When the kiss ended, Chi Ran's face was covered in tears.
"She just started crying without any warning."
He lifted his T-shirt and wiped his face, wiping it vigorously.
"You dislike me?" she joked, wrinkling her nose.
"Yeah, I need to wipe it clean, it's really itchy." He said in a muffled voice, his face buried in the fabric, his voice trembling at the end.
Are you mocking me?
Song Yihuan raised her hand high, dramatically hitting him, but it made almost no sound. He looked up, his eyes red from laughing, and rubbed his face.
"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked with a smile, holding her hand.
Song Yihuan's breath hitched, but people who have just finished crying are always the strongest. She quickly smiled and said, "Osmanthus cake, the kind from last time."
“Okay, blind person can buy things for you.” He said half-jokingly, then composed himself and suddenly cupped her face in his hands, facing her.
She stared at him intently.
"Song Yihuan." He lightly touched the tip of his tongue, uttering her name.
"Um?"
He said, "I have something to tell you."
He's about to say something very important. If it weren't important, there would be no need for such a prelude, so he's about to say something very important.
Important words.
She always had many expectations for Chi Ran: a word, a glance, a birthday gift, or an unplanned trip.
He always inspires anticipation.
So even if this expectation is destined to lead in a less than pleasant direction, even if this important sentence may be disastrous, she still wants to hear it.
Chi Ran said softly, "For me, there's not much difference between indoors and outdoors, day and night, so I hate going out and I hate waking up."
Song Yihuan asked, puzzled, "Why...?"
She felt a pang of fear as she asked the question, yet she still gazed intently at him. At that moment, they shared only one clear eye, and she wanted to cherish that gaze upon Chi Ran all the more.
Without a trace of a smile, his expression was more serious than ever before: "In my entire life, I have never looked forward to any morning so much."
I have never hated any morning so much.
I hate the moment the sun rises, casting its blazing rays and illuminating everything in hope. The merciful, warm sunlight shines down, illuminating the only narrow path forward in boundless darkness.
Song Yihuan, carrying her luggage, was blinded by the unobstructed sunlight, but she kept her eyes open and looked up.
That was the window of the room where the fire started to burn.
The buildings in the complex are quite old, and the staircases, damp with the characteristic scent of southern brick walls, appear grayish. Unidentified wild vines climb outside his window, their green hues a vibrant hue of late spring and early summer.
The sunlight was too bright to see through the dark window. She actually wanted to look at the antique piano again, to see the fuse that had ignited her desires and greed.
Unfortunately, it was daytime, not night, so I couldn't look into the window and couldn't see anything.
Even in the dark, she probably couldn't see it—Chi Ran always kept the curtains tightly drawn, just like his closed-off world.
Thinking this way, she felt inexplicably more at ease.
What kind of person is Chi Ran? He's actually both very bad and very good. He's bad because he's too good, and he's good because he's too bad. She recklessly threw all her desires and greed at him, hoping he would run away in defeat, yet also fearing that he would run away in defeat.
What kind of person is Chi Ran? He always says things that are either harsh or sarcastic, and he can push people away and shut them out in just a few words.
Yet this was the very man who caught her steadily, thus carrying the last remaining greed and hope of her life.
She had previously forbidden herself from investigating him, remaining selfish to the very end. But now, this was the last time, the very last time, so an exception could be made.
What kind of person is Chi Ran?
He wished her to enjoy herself to the fullest, he taught her to recognize the trap called freedom, and he walked for her on the stage, giving her a secret surprise in front of thousands of people.
He was romantic yet decadent, sharp yet gentle; no one was more contradictory than him. She could always sense fate's favor and cruelty towards him. Perhaps it was because he was so contradictory that even fate didn't know how to treat him, which is why it always went back on its word.
If she didn't even know her fate, then she didn't know how to treat him and only dared to quietly run away... That makes sense, right?
She doesn't need to bear those feelings of guilt and selfishness, reluctance and attachment, right?
That's settled then.
All I remember is that he was a dream weaver, playing his instrument and making his music. He imprisoned himself, yet became her outlet in life.
“I stole a dream from him, and when I wake up, I hope he hates me.”
That's what she was thinking.
Springtime brings longer daylight hours, warmer temperatures, and the south wind brings life to all things, even into people's dreams.
In this season brimming with life, you met me, and I met you.
Just consider it a dream in springtime; once you wake up, it's over.
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