All things begin with water (1)
Chapter Summary: Gratian and Caesar strolled through the town of Heyson (or, as Gratian would say, it was a date :)).
The great lake evoked memories and also masked desire.
Book Four: All Things Begin with Water
Gratian said he would take me somewhere.
The back hill of Yangda University is the highest point in Haiyingsen City, the source and reservoir of all water. As you ascend from the water inlet, the traces of human intervention gradually fade, like ancient relics weathered by time. Hidden beneath weeds and vines, the path faintly appears, disappearing into the depths of the forest. In the distance, the roar of a waterfall echoes.
"Isn't this place beautiful? It's all water, I love water." He hesitated for a long time before finally uttering a shy sentence.
"It's alright." I walked with him for quite a while along the rocky path by the waterfall, and my feet were aching. "Let's find a place to sit down."
"Go to the source of the waterfall. There are many rocks there to sit on."
I wanted to say it was too wet there. And I don't like water. But I saw the pleading look in Gratian's eyes, so I said, "Okay."
Are you tired? Shall I take your hand and lead you there?
I said no, thank you.
He seemed a little disappointed, as if he regretted missing the chance to hold my hand. We were indeed standing at a high place, with thin clouds swirling among the splashing rocks. The jagged, dark gray reefs, worn smooth and rounded by the constant scouring of the water, had some covered with a layer of dark blue moss, while others were pure black, or completely enveloped by the waves, appearing pure white in the sunlight.
Water has no color; its color is the base color of the earth or rocks. Only in the ocean, or in sufficiently vast rivers, lakes, and marshes, does water possess its own unique color. Only then does water reveal its unique, boundless blue.
The waterfall crashes against the rocks, shattering them into pieces, and sparkling water droplets, shimmering with iridescent colors in the sunlight, splash out. Tiny droplets fall from the mountain stream, and a rainbow arches across them. The surrounding water flows towards a deep, sunken opening in the center, which plunges into a vast, deep lake. The lake water seeps into the ground, filling the dense network of underground rivers in Haiyingsen City.
I didn't want to talk; climbing the mountain was too tiring. The spray from the waterfall choked me. The vibrations of the waterfall assaulted my eardrums. Gratian tried to find something to talk about, and I gave him half-hearted replies. Sometimes I couldn't hear what he was saying, so I just nodded and said "uh-huh," or "yes, that's right," too lazy to ask him what he had just said.
Phaethon drowned here. That lake. My throat tightened, and the dull pain in my chest grew increasingly intense.
"...Look, there's a marble statue here."
I finally heard one sentence clearly.
I rubbed my tight throat, turned my head, and saw Gratian pointing to the other side. He reached out and led me to a corner of a mountain covered with weeds and dust, where vines grew from the barren sand and wrapped around the statue's hands and feet.
"Are you alright? You look terrible." He frowned. "It seems you really don't like water. Are you cold?"
I said I wasn't cold.
“But you look like you’ve been buried in snow.” He took my hand. It was cold and sweaty. My hand touched a warm, fuzzy palm, like a small fireplace.
"Come closer to me. I'm really worried you're going to fall off the top of this waterfall."
My throat pain has eased considerably.
Publius Elius Hadrian. One of the Five Good Emperors of Rome. 76-138 AD.
He read the small gold plaque beneath the marble and chuckled. "There's even a statue of a Roman emperor here. I must say, the planners of Haiyingsen City really put their hearts into it. To enhance the city's historical and cultural heritage, they even decorated the valley with some artifacts."
I had to remind him that not only the sculptures showed signs of human intervention, but the waterfall itself was also man-made. It is hundreds of meters high and thousands of kilometers long, but it is actually a man-made tourist attraction.
"If you want to see the real thing, you'd better go to the Earth's surface, not to see a replica at Haiyingsen."
"But nowhere on Earth can you find oceans, deserts, mountains, lakes, and all sorts of ancient artifacts all gathered on 500,000 square kilometers of land at the same time? Is there any city on Earth that can symbolize the entire planet and represent all of human civilization?"
"Of course not. Neither can Haiyingsen," I said.
"In fact, the city of Haiyingsen only captures fragments of human civilization. For example, fragments of ancient Rome. You only see Hadrian's statue, but you don't see the real Roman Pantheon."
"If the Pantheon in Rome hadn't been destroyed in a nuclear war before the advent of the interstellar age, I might still be able to see it on the surface today."
“Yes,” I said, “many ruins are gone.”
"But there's nothing to regret. Time is passing, history is moving forward, let the past be buried."
"Yes. People can live without history, but they cannot live without a future."
“However, it’s quite surprising to hear you say that, Caesar.” He tilted his head and said, “It seems I don’t know you well enough.”
He found a small shovel somewhere and started digging under the statue. The emperor statue, which was already half unearthed, was left to dry in the sun.
"What are you looking for, Gratian?"
"I'm looking for Antinous."
"Do you know him? He was Emperor Hadrian's lover. A boy of Greek descent, he was taken by the emperor at the age of 11 and became his companion. More statues of him and the emperor have been unearthed together than those of Hadrian and his queen. Later, he died, drowning during a voyage on the Nile with the emperor. He was very young then, just shedding his childish appearance and entering the beautiful years of adolescence. Some say he was pushed off the canoe, while others say he committed suicide. He was captivated by his reflection in the water, not out of narcissism or love for his own beauty, but out of grief. After his death, Emperor Hadrian built a temple for him and offered sacrifices, hoping he could be freed from the suffering of the mortal body and ascend to godhood. Until an astrologer told the emperor that an unknown celestial body had appeared in the sky, a newly born star."
The astrologer said, "That must be the soul of Antinous, who now basks in glory with the gods in the realm of eternity."
For the first time in many years, the emperor had a good night's sleep.
This star can still be seen today. Astronomers say, "This is Antinous, the boy who drowned himself a thousand years ago."
"Ah, I found it!" he exclaimed excitedly.
“Well, this replica is just like a real artifact,” I said, touching the plaster statue buried next to the emperor's statue. It felt hard to the touch. Covered in moss, it was very dilapidated. Like all ancient relics weathered by time.
I didn't want to look at the front of the plaster statue, afraid of bumping into a face that was already half-broken, or a pair of eyes still looking hopefully into the distance; luckily, the upper part of the statue was still buried in the ground, and Gratian had started digging from the bottom. Gratian's little brush reached out, and I said, "I'm a little tired. Shall we go down? Or I can go ahead by myself. You can come over later."
"You really don't like lakes. And you don't like outdoor activities either."
He looked up at the lake in the distance, its surface rippling vividly under the bright sunlight.
"It's the weekend. Central University, well, let's keep calling it that for now; although it seems to have become a Class A war criminal encampment, it might not be appropriate to continue calling it a university. The students from Central University will be strolling around the small town at the foot of the mountain. On weekends, the residents will come out to set up stalls and do business."
I jumped down from the high ground where the two statues were buried. Holding onto the jagged, uneven rocks, I carefully made my way down the muddy, waterlogged path that seemed ready to collapse at any moment. The wet sand crunched under my feet and heels, making a squeaking sound as the mud particles rubbed together.
He reluctantly tossed aside the makeshift brush he'd made of reeds and hurried after him. "Shall we go for a stroll in town?"
"good."
I lived at Central China University during my undergraduate years, and now I've been a researcher there for ten years. I'm very familiar with the campus facilities, but I've rarely left the campus, even though this small town at the foot of the mountain is less than five kilometers away.
The streets were filled with people dressed as students; normally, this season would see a surge of tourists from other cities, but Haiyingsen was under lockdown due to the war. The brightly decorated street shops appeared rather deserted. Large signs were surrounded by rows of flashing lights, the letters formed by the lights bouncing dramatically, trying to attract passersby's attention.
Gratian saw several small bears at an outdoor café on the street. Two bears sat facing each other, each holding a coffee cup; a third bear leaned back, legs propped up, sunbathing. A waiter slowly came out, carrying a broom and dustpan. He passed by the bears, looked at them, pondered for a moment, then took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on the sunbathing bear. Gratian refused to leave; he stared at the bears. He asked, “I’m curious. Which shop is advertising this? We’ve seen these bears all the way here. But no one has put them on their sign…”
"Yes." After saying that, I disappeared. I didn't hear him muttering to himself in thought.
After a while, he came over angrily. “Cesare! How can you be thinking of buying books in a place like this? What are these things—Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy?” He dragged me to a shop filled with handicrafts made of gold, silver and other precious stones. There was also a tarot deck outside the shop, and the stall owner sitting in the back was performing some strange divination ritual.
He said, "You, you, I already asked you out... can't you at least try to fit the mood a little?"
"I...I'm on a date with you, Caesar!"
The air was filled with the cacophony of voices. Some were the incense used in Indian Zen Buddhism, others the spicy scents of pepper, basil, and oregano. The aromas made me hungry. Yet, at the same time, I felt I should cultivate a calm mind and suppress my appetite. I clung to my math book, refusing to let go. "No! This is Newton, it's Newton!"
“I don’t care who he is!” Gratian was on the verge of a breakdown. “Put the book down, sweetie. If you open it, our day is over, because I know you won’t be able to stop reading once you start…”
"Hey, sir, you haven't paid yet!" The bookseller stormed out. He glanced at me, then immediately turned to Gratian. "Are you together? Sir, could you please settle your bill?"
Gratian glanced silently at Newton's enigmatic and blank smile on the cover. "Alright. How much?"
Five hundred yuan.
Gratian took a deep breath. "So expensive!"
"Of course. This is Isaac Newton! It's Newton!" the shopkeeper said proudly. "And it's a paper book that survives from the Common Era. Do you think anyone still collects paper books these days? This is the only one of its kind."
"Forget it. So what if it's a paper book? There are electronic versions, plus a 3D printer, we can make as many paper books as we want."
"Aren't you afraid of being investigated by the Haiyingsen Provisional Central Government for selling at such high prices? What's your store's tax identification number? Tell me!"
"What's it to you?" the shopkeeper retorted. "My nephew is a member of the Disciplinary Inspection Committee in the Haiyingsen Provisional Government! He even fought alongside Chairman Gratian in the last battle against the puppet government's army! What? Do you have a problem with our shop's pricing? You can talk to the guild. Oh, by the way, I'm the guild leader. You can just tell me directly." The shopkeeper straightened his back. "But I must warn you beforehand, my nephew knows Chairman Gratian himself. He has connections in high places, do you dare to mess with him?"
Before Gratian could lose his temper, I quickly dragged him away from the scene. "Sorry, boss. Here's your book back. We won't buy it. Sorry for bothering you."
I pulled Gratian to a seat in a bustling pub on the street. A musician played the Irish bagpipes forlornly on stage; no one paid him any attention. The patrons ate with gusto, several girls with large black-rimmed glasses their mouths glistening with grease, their cheeks appearing flat and full in the bar light. I propped my head up and watched Gratian, pouring him another glass of water before he could lash out. My movements were overly attentive, like a pub waiter; the real waiters, in their deep red bow ties and black-and-white uniforms, looked on with bewilderment as I bustled around Gratian's small round table. I smiled at the waiters, indicating that I would take care of things here and they didn't need to come over for now. I wrapped a pristine white napkin around Gratian, placed the silver steel cutlery in his hands, and let the lemonade swirl gently in the glass in front of him.
“Alright,” I moved the menu in front of him, “what would you like to eat? Order!”
"If you're trying to distract someone, can you at least try a less contrived approach?"
I turned around to make sure the shop owner was gone. "No, I just think you don't need to bother with someone like that."
"Why? Are you afraid I'll be on tomorrow's front page: 'President Gratian, leader of the new government of the Earth Republic Alliance, openly fights with a bookstore owner over five hundred dollars'? No, I'm just a little angry."
I wanted to say, "Really? But you almost asked him his nephew's name," but I swallowed the words. "What would you like to eat? I don't eat dishes with too much cheese... Never mind, it's nothing, just order whatever you like. I'm fine with anything."
He flipped through the menu. "Most of the dishes have cheese in them. The salad also has a lot of cheese balls and stuff... but thankfully, it's fresh and juicy, so it shouldn't be too greasy."
"Then I'll just order whatever?"
The musician in the bar was still playing his bagpipes forlornly. A guitarist walked by, and the two of them joined in, echoing each other's tunes. The food was utterly tasteless; I wasn't hungry at all. However, I suspected it was the food's fault. I shouldn't have impulsively handed the menu over to Gratian. The salted ham was too salty, the cheese bland, and the bits of nuts mixed together tasted strange. The freshly baked pies were topped with a layer of unidentifiable, pungent raw vegetables, their leaves dried and wilted by the crust. As for the bright red tomatoes and thinly sliced figs, they were juicy and dripped freshly onto the porcelain plate—they were actually quite delicious, I thought. Gratian pushed a whole plate of freshly cut figs toward me. I noticed he kept staring at me as I ate.
"You ordered this yourself," I said. "Could you please finish it yourself? I can't possibly eat all of it."
"You're the one who pulled me to sit here. It's only three in the afternoon. A normal person wouldn't eat dinner at this time."
I threw my fork away. "You're right. I'm full. I don't want to eat anymore."
“You can eat more. Caesar, you’re too thin. You’ve been thin since the first day I can remember. It doesn’t look good.”
"My figure falls into the 'healthy' category. Just a little too thin!" That brat. He always brings up the wrong thing. He knows I'm as thin as a stick, and he's deliberately teasing me.
The atmosphere was fairly pleasant. However, in a bar, just because you don't drink doesn't mean everyone else does. A drunk at the next table shouted, "You guys know about Ganymede... hey, you know, the rumors about Caesar Ganymede and Gratian?"
In an instant, he captured everyone's attention in the bar.
“Gratian, I know him, isn’t he the chairman of our new government?”
Who is Caesar Garnier?
"Huh? You didn't know that? Academician Ganymede, Chairman Gratian's creator, guardian, and adoptive father!"
"What rumor?" one of his drinking companions asked while peeling sunflower seeds. "Peanuts, this plate is mine; go buy some yourself if you want!"
"Does this mean that Caesar had planned this day all along, and cultivated a superhuman to avenge his brother?"
Revenge. I looked up blankly. Phaethon? Did he have enemies? What revenge could I possibly take for him?
"That's all ancient history. Caesar Ganimed, you say the old government treated him well, and the new speaker candidate, the one who was so popular recently, even made a statement on Pluto defending the old government and fighting against illegal terrorist organizations and pseudo-regimes. That guy, Estravan, is Caesar's close friend; do you think Caesar would give up wealth and status to avenge his deceased brother? Forget it. It's too far-fetched. His brother has been dead for years. After Faert Ganimed died, did Caesar make any statements, or shed a single tear for his brother? No, no, why wouldn't he go with the old government and his former close friends? Would he miss out on any benefits? Actually, hehe, Caesar Ganimed, don't be fooled by his serious, saintly appearance, he and Gratian have that kind of relationship!"
"Hey. It's no big deal." The man chewing peanuts looked disdainful and asked the waiter to refill his glass of gin. "I thought you had some big news to announce. What's so strange about these high-ups, the troublemakers, the people in their little circles, sleeping together occasionally?"
"If they only 'occasionally slept together,' would Caesar be reluctant to part with Gratian? He's just blinded by his beauty and wants to possess him forever. Besides, Gratian, you've all seen him, he's so beautiful! My god, is Helen of Troy even one ten-thousandth as beautiful as him? He must have been exposed to Caesar's beauty since he was a child… otherwise, why would Caesar dote on his little darling so much? Hey, don't laugh, don't laugh. Don't forget, Gratian was created according to Caesar's aesthetic standards—a beautiful, large-sized inflatable doll with a clever mind. Raised from a baby to adulthood, tsk tsk, who wouldn't take advantage of that? Don't be fooled by these smart people, these people with great knowledge and ambition, they're all mentally ill! Nine out of ten are abnormal!"
“Excuse me. Just kidding. What are you talking about?” Gratian smiled, grinning as he approached the table.
The laughter gradually subsided. The chatter also quieted down considerably. A group of people turned to look at Gratian. The drunkard, his expression hazy, asked, "Who are you? We're having a good time!"
"Getting carried away, huh? I bet you'd be better off dying of a sudden stroke on horseback."
I covered my face. There was nothing I could do to stop him from getting angry this second time.
"What do you have against Caesar Ganimed? You are slandering him. And in front of so many people."
"I think he's a psychopath, a gigolo. So what's it to you if I chat?"
"And what about Gratian? What grievances do you have against him?"
“Complaints,” the drunkard scoffed, “a little boy with delusions of grandeur. Does he deserve our complaints? Who is he? If he dies tomorrow, the war will end, the old government will return, and we will be liberated.”
Gratian lunged at him and they wrestled. Tables and chairs flew everywhere, glittering glass shattered all over the floor—shards of the tavern's doors and windows, or fragments of customers' glasses. There was also wine, streaks of crimson liquid winding and snaking across the floor. I crouched behind the bar, not wanting to look up, the screams of humans echoing in my ears. I watched with worry as another bottle of red wine, its belly bursting, rolled creaking towards me. I stopped, thinking: How much will I have to pay for this?
About an hour later, maybe longer, Gratian grabbed my arm and lifted me from behind the bar, leading me out of the bar. He was covered in bruises, his face etched with lingering resentment. The cut on his right cheek was from being hit with a bottle; there were traces of glass. I reached out, but he brushed my hand away. "It's stopped bleeding. It's scabbed over."
My fingertips stopped in mid-air.
He then said, "Um... why don't you touch it? It's okay." He suddenly looked at me with anticipation.
I reluctantly withdrew my finger. "It's alright."
He grabbed my fingers and pressed them against the wound.
"hiss--"
I was at a loss for words. I said dryly, "Your cells are regenerating faster and faster. That's good."
“Hey, Caesar, I don’t care about my cell regeneration,” he complained. “It hurts. Can you touch it again?” His face, which was bruised and swollen from being hit, suddenly had a childlike quality (although to me he was always a child, though he used to be a college student, and now he’s probably regressed to elementary school). Embarrassingly, when I touched it, the wound on his cheek started bleeding.
"Ah, sorry, sorry." This time I forcefully pulled my hand back. No matter how unhappy the person bleeding was, he was probably cursing his skin for failing him at such a crucial moment. "Your face..."
"Just ignore it."
He walked ahead, along the large lake formed by water flowing from the mountaintop into the depression. The closer we got to the center of the lake, the deeper we became into the forest. There was no one there. The crisp cracking of dry branches echoed beneath our feet, by the dark, damp, muddy pool. The water murmured, and under the bright moon, the lake shimmered, a blend of deep black and bright silver. I hesitated, and then, with a "plop," he pushed me into the water. I was startled and opened my mouth to scream, but he jumped down and kissed my lips.
He held me in his arms. I tried to pull away, but he didn't budge. He gently stroked the shape of my teeth. After a long time, he stopped. My face flushed, I lowered my head, pulled back slightly, and whispered, "Don't you know I'm afraid of water?"
"Aren't you afraid now?"
"Let's go up."
He stopped me. "No. It's too stuffy outside."
The lake water was warm, not cold, without a trace of chill seeping into it, like amniotic fluid in a mother's womb. Dark water plants lined the shore, and small insects lay docilely on the blades, emitting intermittent, slightly lonely chirps. We walked a few steps towards the center of the lake. The moon was large and round, its light clear and bright, hanging high overhead. The dark blue lake reflected the moon's image, the ripples making its illusory form appear slightly wrinkled. He held me, his body wet and hot; I trembled with nervousness, unable to speak. The situation was beyond my imagination. If I had firmly refused, Gratian certainly wouldn't have forced me, but I didn't; I was just being led and manipulated by him like a mute fool. My coat was nowhere to be found; through the thin, wet fabric, my clothes were pulled open, a part briefly exposed to the slightly chilly, damp air, then into warmth. He was still quite inexperienced, bumping into me a few times. I gasped for breath and groaned, "Ouch." Immediately, something soft touched me, a comforting touch. His hands encircled my waist as he squatted down, and I took a deep breath. My fingers dug into his sweaty hair. He had a perfect rhythm, seemingly self-taught. To do something so well despite lacking practical experience and only having a little theoretical knowledge—truly a genius. Afterwards, I released, immersed in a lazy, warm feeling, as if my bones were melting into the lake. "Let's go. Soaking for too long will really give me a cold," I said, wrapping myself in my last few layers of clothing and running.
Sure enough, he pulled me back, seemingly just hooking my wrist lightly; but I couldn't break free no matter what I did. The boy said pitifully, "Caesar, you don't love me anymore. Look, I've already taken care of everything for you. So, shouldn't you take care of mine too?"
I steeled myself and ripped open his collar. His full, muscular body, reflected in the moonlight and water, reminded me of polished white marble or jagged reefs in the ocean. As I moved downwards, his sheer size filled me with dread. I touched him, hesitated, and then pressed my face against his. Gratian suddenly stopped me. I felt a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Looking up, I saw him smiling at me. "Caesar," he said, "turn your back."
I glanced at the size of that thing again. I said, "I'm going to die, I'm really going to die."
The next second he turned me around. My eyes were filled with tears, and I choked out, "How cruel you are." My nose was wrinkled from the pain; he patted my shoulder from behind and said, "Okay, relax a little."
I counted on my fingers until I felt nothing. A warm current spread through my body, gradually taking over my senses. My vision blurred, my heart pounded, and I heard a satisfied, deep sigh behind me. I was pulled into a firm embrace, the warmth of water and [unclear] kissing my skin. I felt like a priestess in ancient legends embracing a statue of Dionysus, surrounded by the frenzied shouts of celebration, the roar of liquor, and the dancing of the crowd amidst rising fireworks. After the revelry, I drifted into a deep, blissful slumber, filled with pleasure.
When I woke up, my forehead was covered in sweat. I was leaning against a large tree on the lakeshore, covered with Gratian's clothes. He had taken off his coat before pushing me into the lake, so it must have been planned. Now, he was squatting on the grass warming himself by a fire, my soaked coat and underwear hanging from a branch. I realized I wasn't wearing anything; my naked body was curled up inside the coat, which reeked of his scent. I cursed, "Can I call the police and say you raped me?"
"First, from a legal perspective, 'sexual violence' specifically refers to male-on-female sexual violence; you, a grown man, were sexually assaulted by a younger man, so please take care of yourself. It's too shameful to talk about it, so you should think twice. Second, the current Haiyingsen regime is under the leadership of our revolutionary army. Do you think anyone will listen to you, someone who sympathizes with the old government and has always been close to it, if you go to the police station to report the new government's chairman?" His round eyes crinkled with laughter. "Finally, that's not what you said when you begged me earlier."
I was furious. I kicked my foot and simply went to sleep. In my drowsy state, I heard rustling sounds and the occasional crackling of dry branches being scorched by the fire. The fire was moved closer; it was warm and bright, a large, shining ball that remained in the dark shadows of my closed eyes, so even with my eyes closed, I could feel a bright light before me. A pair of hands covered my eyes, as if afraid the bright firelight would disturb me. I groaned in dissatisfaction. The hands were removed. In the latter half of the night, I heard a faint, clanging sound, the sound of a hammer and stones. I opened my eyes a crack and saw Gratian crouching, holding a piece of snow-white stone, no bigger than the palm of his hand.
"Sorry, did I disturb you?" The hammering stopped.
"No." I always have nightmares, and I often wake up in the middle of the night in a fright. But Gratian doesn't know this. "What are you doing?"
“Marble.” He opened his palm, revealing two lines of crooked Latin letters carved into the snow-white stone. “Half for each of us. Caesar.”
As he spoke, he split the marble block in two.
I picked up the stone with Gratian's name engraved on it. The cursive script was reminiscent of herds of animals galloping and migrating across the East African savanna—very abstract, unlike anything a human could have created. I considered suggesting Gratian take an art class, or at least teach him to write some legible characters. But then I thought it unnecessary; he's a child of his age, he should know what he's doing.
Gratian asked, "Cesare, do I do a good job carving it? It should look very good, shouldn't it?"
I didn't respond for a long time. Finally, I nodded and said:
"Beauty is diverse."
Gratian carefully put away the piece with my name, "Cesare Ganymede," engraved on it. I then noticed that the marble pendants were warmer than ordinary stones; he had already warmed them by holding them close to his chest.
I changed my mind and refused the pendant he gave me. "Thank you, Gratian."
He looked shy. Later that night, he dozed off beside me. We didn't set off until dawn.
——tbc——
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