Chapter 107 Epilogue (Part 1): Some Everyday Life
Yeikh and Fyodor toured Russia extensively before finally returning to the small building.
Still with Fyodor.
Seeing Ye Yihe's guilty expression, Dazai Osamu forced a dry laugh that sent chills down Ye Yihe's spine. "I knew it."
"Aren't you worried about the European Paranormal Investigation Agency coming after discovering he's still alive?"
“Fei Jia said…”
"Fei Jia? Oh my, you're even using a nickname now. Your relationship is progressing quite well."
Dazai continued to smile, and the black aura emanating from his body almost made Ye Yihe take two steps back.
“…Ahem, after all, I have my own name now,” Ye Yihe coughed strategically, “calling him Fedor again feels a bit awkward… Anyway, Fedia said he can handle this little problem.”
Fyodor stood beside Ye Yihe, his face always bearing a rather subtle smile as he looked at Dazai Osamu.
Dazai: “…”
Dazai: "Ah, you're hopeless, utterly hopeless."
Ye Yihe: "...Trust me."
Why are you making it sound like he's been brainwashed by Feyia? It's clearly Feyia who wants to stay, and he's just a little bit soft-hearted... just a tiny bit soft-hearted!
“If I didn’t trust you, this cunning rat leader wouldn’t even be able to get through the front door of the building.”
Dazai's face fell. "And then what? Well, isn't the Eastern Orthodox Church against same-sex love? You two can't possibly get married in a church there, can you?"
Upon hearing about returning to Russia, while the others in the building were still thinking that Fyodor was plotting something, he and Ayatsuji immediately realized what Fyodor was planning to do—it was practically a scheme to completely abduct him.
Look at how Yihe used to run to the superhuman prison every day; who knows what they did in there.
With his cello skills showing no improvement after six months of practice, who are you trying to fool by saying you're going to practice the cello?
"Get...get married??" Ye Yihe was so shocked he almost choked. "We haven't gotten to that point yet! Besides, we're not going back to Russia to...get married!"
That kind of relationship progressed way too quickly! He hadn't expected this at all—at least not yet!
As a naturally reserved Easterner, Ye Yihe already felt that his relationship with Fyodor was progressing very quickly... at least they had tacitly established their relationship in Russia... but it wasn't enough to push the progress bar to the top all at once...!
Fyodor let out a muffled laugh from his throat.
Upon returning from Russia, Yeikh bought the abandoned hospital and the surrounding land.
Fyodor listened as he conceived of how to hire people to rebuild a welfare home on this land, to take in orphans, and to extend a helping hand to residents in need.
He said this is what a new life is all about.
Therefore, Fyodor naturally chose not to let go—he never liked to observe from afar; he wanted to possess it exclusively.
And he got it.
Standing beside Ye Yihe, Fyodor narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled at Dazai with a knowing and meaningful expression.
Osamu Dazai: “…”
This is a provocation! This is outright provocation!
No matter how much Dazai Osamu and his companions tried to guard against a cunning little mouse that knew how to play the innocent sneaking into the small building, they couldn't stop Ye Yihe from opening the door wide for the other party.
Fyodor, on the other hand, didn't care at all that he was being closely watched by Dazai and Oda Sakunosuke.
Even though he was regarded as an extreme terrorist and dangerous element by the whole world, he did not react at all.
The reason he almost never showed himself outside the small building was simply that he didn't want the outside world to discover that he was still alive, thus causing trouble for Ye Yihe.
On the contrary, Ye Yihe always wanted him to go out for a walk and exercise—it would be even better if he could run.
He used to run and train in place of Fedor, but now it's time for him to get moving on his own.
Faced with Ye Yihe's constant attempts to wake him up in the morning, Fyodor's response was to lie in the soft bedding, his head pulled up so that half of his face was exposed. His dark red eyes, hidden beneath his messy hair, gleamed with a beautiful yet hazy purple in the morning light, gazing at him with half-open eyes.
Ye Yihe was very susceptible to his charms. Each time, she would catch her breath, and then show a complex reaction of hesitation, doubt, determination, and then regret—until finally she would give up a little and leave only a light kiss on his forehead, allowing him to continue sleeping.
The cunning little mouse has once again successfully escaped today's physical exercise.
Indeed, ever since Yeikh and Fyodor returned from Russia, they have been sleeping in the same bedroom, inseparable, just as they were when they were still in the Palace of Consciousness.
Aside from physical exercise, Fyodor followed rules that didn't require physical labor, such as remembering to turn on the lights at night, eating on time, and not biting his nails, very well, and was rarely caught by Ye Yihe.
Although at first, everyone was not used to Fyodor, who had previously wanted to kill them, now being able to sit together peacefully to eat... but they gradually accepted it.
Since Ye Yihe looked completely smitten, they had no choice but to keep an eye on Fyodor in private to prevent him from making any more moves.
In everyone's mind, Ye Yihe's image is probably that of a second personality who was born not long after the sinful main personality of Fyodor, who has no concept of human cunning and is particularly easy to be deceived by the main personality.
—In addition, he had an exceptionally blind confidence in his cello skills.
Of course, Chuuya was a beat slower in expressing his surprise: "What? You're with Fyodor?? When?!"
Ye Yihe, caught and questioned, remained silent: "…………"
"What?! You didn't notice at all?!" Pushkin was even more shocked. "It couldn't be clearer! Look, they were always coming in and out together!"
"Going in and out together doesn't mean you're together. You and Ivan go in and out together too!" Chuuya retorted.
"Was I going in and out with Ivan?!" Pushkin exclaimed, slapping his thigh in anger. "I was going in and out with a clay doll!"
“And there are rock spikes made from clay dolls that will poke your butt,” Dazai Osamu added from the side.
Pushkin: "...Your words are making my butt hurt again."
"This... was probably during our stay in Russia..."
Ye Yihe was a little embarrassed to reveal the details of their relationship to acquaintances.
In short, they stood in front of the abandoned hospital building for a long time, and straightened and wiped away the dust from the fallen crosses and tombstones in the cemetery one by one.
Because Russia is located at a high latitude and it is nearing winter, when Yeikh looked up and saw the scattered snowflakes, he noticed that the streetlights along the street were lit up. They were the warm color of tungsten filament lamps, unlike the slightly dim light from kerosene and gas lamps.
As a result, they had to walk a long way in the darkness and snow before they found an old, run-down hotel.
It was a solitary three-story building standing alone in the wilderness, built entirely of logs with only simple cutting and processing, looking very rough; but its chimney was emitting wisps of gray-black smoke, and the light shining through the windows was bright, subconsciously reminding one of a warm fireplace burning brightly.
“I remember the owner of this hotel,” Fyodor began, “if he is still alive.”
Pushing open the door, they saw a rather young man behind the reception desk, greeting them with a cold expression, "How long are you staying?"
Compared to the ever-smiling Japanese waiters, the stark contrast of this cold, even downturned, attitude made Ye Yihe blink twice, quite uncomfortable, before remembering that this was Russia, where smiling service was not a concept.
From Ye Yihe's perspective, although Fyodor always complained that Gogol's personality was so lively that it seemed abnormal, he actually smiled quite often himself, and he always easily... attracted his attention.
“One night,” Ye Yihe replied.
"Twelve hundred rubles."
The young man, whose face remained stern, made a few notes in the thick notebook in front of him, then took a key from the drawer and placed it on the table.
"There's only one room left, at the very end of the second floor. Here's the key."
"Why is there only one room left?"
Ye Yihe was a little surprised when he took the key—the hotel was so remote that he thought it was a miracle that it was even open, yet it was still fully booked.
"A group of hiking enthusiasts were attacked by a bear while camping overnight nearby."
The young man did not refuse to answer, "The people are fine, but the bear is a bit hurt. Fortunately, it escaped. However, several tents were torn, so we can only find a hotel nearby to stay in."
The implication is that you've come at just the right time, as the restaurant is fully booked tonight.
Ye Yihe: "...So that's how it is."
He really learned something new: he could talk about fighting a bear so casually.
But there's only one room...
Following the signpost, Ye Yihe went up to the second floor, used the key to open the blackened wooden door, and faced a single bed that was less than a meter wide. He took a deep breath, and his heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally died.
Even in the tower palace that Fyodor could never return to, the bed was large enough to easily sleep three people...!
Not to mention that this single bed has a wooden frame and is covered with a faded white sheet. It looks relatively clean overall, but it is really worrying whether it can support the weight of even one more person.
The howling wind outside the window became more pronounced, the window frame creaked slightly as snowflakes pattered against it, and a chill seeped in through the cracks in the door.
Yeyhe let Fyodor come in first, then closed the door and went to the fireplace to start a fire.
"Does it provide hot water here?" Ye Yihe asked, still uneasy.
This hotel is so old that it relies on burning wood for heating, so you wouldn't expect it to have convenient appliances like electric water heaters.
“There’s a boiler room downstairs that’s responsible for heating the water,” Fyodor, who knew the hotel well, explained to him. “You can take a shower right there.”
"Oh, then you go first."
Ye Yihe urged Fyodor, whose body was more prone to catching a cold and fever, to take a hot shower quickly—if he had known he would be stuck in such a remote hotel tonight, he should have bought two sets of clothes as soon as he landed.
After he and Fyodor finished their baths, the fire in the fireplace had warmed the room nicely.
Seemingly knowing that Ye Yihe would feel uncomfortable, Fyodor turned off the tungsten filament lights on the ceiling in advance, leaving only the campfire flickering and casting long shadows on the walls, occasionally sputtering a few sparks and making a slight crackling sound.
Even so, Ye Yihe hesitated for a moment before speaking, "I can..." make do with the night in that chair.
"Aren't you coming over? I think this bed should be big enough for us."
With his coat hanging on a simple hook on the wall, Fyodor, wearing only a thin shirt, managed to silence Ye Yihe midway through his sentence with a very soft voice and a slight smile.
It seemed like she only noticed it suddenly, but Ye Yihe discovered that a strand of Feodor's hair was wet and sticking up on top of his head all by itself—it was kind of cute.
He couldn't help but think that.
Moreover, he couldn't resist moving closer to Fyodor and smoothing down the lock of hair.
Fyodor indulged Yeyhe's actions until he reached out and grabbed the hand just as it was about to withdraw.
“You can ask me for more—if you want.”
Those dark red eyes lifted from between her wispy bangs, appearing a deep purple in the firelight, yet soft, like richly colored velvet—luxurious, delicate, and warm.
Ye Yihe was inevitably drawn in, completely.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, with a hint of annoyance, "More what?"
Fyodor smiled.
The snowy night and the light and shadow of the campfire intertwined in his eyes like a galaxy, and even the faint smile that often curved at the corners of his lips revealed a special kind of allure at this moment.
“I don’t know either,” he said slowly. “Maybe it’s loyalty, maybe it’s an embrace, maybe it’s a kiss, maybe it’s…”
"like."
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Wait a minute, so many free tickets! Am I seeing things? (pupils dizzy) I'll try my best to add an extra chapter tomorrow!
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