Chapter 59: Warm Embers on a Cold Night, Whispers Become Prophecies
The night was as dark as ink, and only a dim candle was burning in the inner room of the Lotus Tower, which was about to go out.
The door was gently pushed open, and a chilling cold air, carrying a faint smell of blood and dust, quietly invaded the warm room. Li Lianhua, a light sleeper, was startled by the cold. She shivered slightly and sat up, hugging the quilt.
In the dim light, Di Feisheng's figure stood by the door. His dark robe seemed to be soaked in the coldness and heaviness of the night. There was an indissoluble gloom between his brows, and his whole body exuded an almost desolate coldness.
Li Lianhua was stunned for a moment, then subconsciously reached out to him. Her voice was hoarse from just waking up and a hint of worry: "...A Fei? Where have you been? You're so cold..."
Di Feisheng didn't answer, but simply stepped closer, his boots clacking against the wooden planks. He sat down on the edge of the bed, but instead of immediately embracing him to warm him as usual, he simply stared at him silently, unblinking. His gaze was terrifyingly deep, churning with an extremely complex mix of emotions that Li Lianhua couldn't fathom—pain, struggle, anger, and a kind of... tenderness bordering on despair.
Li Lianhua felt uneasy when he looked at her. She leaned over and gently touched his equally cold cheek with her cold fingers: "What's wrong? What happened?"
Suddenly, Di Feisheng reached out and fiercely pulled him into his arms! The force was so great that it almost crushed him! Her cold lips pressed against his sensitive earlobe, and her voice was as low and hoarse as the friction of gravel, with an extremely suppressed, heart-pounding tremor:
"...Li Lianhua...you really have a... cruel heart."
Li Lianhua's body suddenly stiffened, and his heart felt as if it was being gripped by an icy hand! He instantly understood the meaning behind these words.
He...knows.
The diagnosis of the drug demon, and my own words "don't tell him"... he finally knew it.
Endless bitterness flooded his heart like a tide, drowning out all words. He closed his eyes and buried his face deep in the other person's cold, dew-stained clothes, his nose sore and bitter.
Yes... cruel. Hiding it from him, calculating the limited time I had left alone, plotting how to "peacefully" reach the end, leaving him alone behind...wasn't this a kind of cruelty?
Those who stayed behind were the ones who suffered the most. He knew this better than anyone else.
"…I'm sorry…" His voice was muffled by the fabric of his clothes, barely audible, carrying with it an unconcealed sob and a deep sense of guilt. Beyond those three words, he didn't know what else to say. Explanation? Comfort? All of it paled in the face of the inevitable outcome.
Di Feisheng hugged his arms even tighter, his knuckles turning white from the force, as if he wanted to completely merge him into his bones and blood, never to be separated.
He didn't ask any more questions, nor did he roar. He just buried his face in the side of his neck, breathing heavily and hotly, burning Li Lianhua's slightly cool skin.
The silence that stretched between them was suffocatingly heavy, yet strangely interwoven with a desperate intimacy.
After an unknown amount of time, the flute suddenly moved. He raised his head, the bloodshot and madness in his eyes replaced by a bottomless, desperate fire. He cupped Li Lianhua's face and kissed him fiercely, unyieldingly!
This kiss was no longer gentle, no longer filled with temptation and coaxing, but was full of plunder, punishment, and a possessiveness that was almost destructive! It was like a dying person grabbing the last piece of driftwood, desperately and forcefully.
Li Lianhua endured this kiss with the smell of blood and coldness without struggling. She even opened her lips and teeth actively, responding awkwardly and submissively, as if she wanted to use this method to convey her unspeakable apology and reluctance.
As their lips and teeth met, salty tears silently fell, and it was impossible to tell whose they belonged to.
He raised his head, took it all in, opened himself completely, and gave himself up like a sacrifice.
This time, there was no ignorance, no deception.
It was not until dawn that the violent waves slowly subsided.
Di Feisheng still held him tightly, his chin resting on the top of his head, his arms across his waist, his grip still too tight to leave any room for escape.
The morning light filtered through the window paper, dimly illuminating the mess in the room.
Li Lianhua stirred ever so slightly, raised his head, and gazed at Di Feisheng's closed eyes and furrowed brows. He whispered, his voice hoarse, "...A Fei...will you still...want me?" As he asked this, his heart was already a cold ashes. What right did a dying man have to ask this?
Di Li Lianhua's question, as light as dust, was like a spark, suddenly falling into the lava pool in Di Feisheng's eyes that had been suppressed for a long time and was on the verge of erupting!
He suddenly opened his eyes, bloodshot and seething with an almost ferocious madness and paranoia! His arms suddenly tightened, nearly strangling the thin, warm body in his arms. He lowered his head and fiercely grasped the lips that had just uttered the desperate words. It wasn't a kiss, but a bloody bite and branding!
"You want it?!" He let go of him, breathing heavily, his voice hoarse and broken, but every word was like a poisoned ice cone, hammering down fiercely, "Li Lianhua! Listen carefully!"
He held his chin tightly, forcing him to look up into his own terrifying eyes full of destruction:
"As long as you're alive, you're mine! If you die—" His voice suddenly rose, filled with hysterical madness, "—even if you turn into bones! Rotten into ashes! I will dig you out from the underworld! Put you back together! Hold you in my arms every night! I will never let you rest in peace! I will never let you escape!"
"I'm just so overbearing! So unreasonable!" He growled, each word grinding out from the deepest part of his chest, tinged with bloody pain and desperate obsession. "Your soul! Your bones! Everything you have! Life and death! Reincarnation after reincarnation! It can only be mine!"
"Want to die in peace? Want to leave me alone in peace?" He suddenly pressed her tighter into his arms, his strength so strong that it almost crushed their bones. Without warning, scalding tears fell on Li Lianhua's cold neck, but his voice was still as fierce as a trapped animal. "Don't even think about it! Li Lianhua! Forget it! Even if you die, you will be my ghost! Don't ever think of escaping!"
These words, extreme, paranoid, crazy, and even tinged with creepy hostility, are also the most thorough and desperate love words. They tear apart all the gentle masks, revealing the most desperate, bloody possession and panic within - the panic of losing him.
Li Lianhua was strangled by him so hard that it hurt, and was shocked by the madness in his words, but the hot tears that fell were like a hot iron, burning through all his disguises of calmness and burning straight into the deepest part of his cold and desperate heart.
He closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face. He used up his last bit of strength to hug the trembling man who was on the verge of madness tightly.
“…Okay…” His voice was broken and choked with sobs, but it carried a sense of exhaustion and strange peace of mind that came with everything being settled. “…It’s yours…it’s all yours…the bones…the soul…it’s all yours…I won’t run away…I won’t run away again…”
He raised his trembling hand and gently stroked Di Feisheng's tense, tear-soaked face, as if soothing a beast on the verge of collapse.
"Hook..." He suddenly uttered two childish yet extremely serious words, as if returning to the most innocent time. His pinky clumsily hooked around Di Feisheng's cold finger, "...up and down...for a hundred years...no changes..."
Di Feisheng's body trembled violently, and he stared at him intently. The mad bloodshot in his eyes gradually faded, transforming into a bottomless, painful sorrow. He hooked his backhand tightly around the slender, cold little finger, as if grasping for his only salvation, his voice hoarse and untuned:
"... even for ten thousand years... you are not allowed to change."
The morning light completely illuminated the room, enveloping the two embracing people in a pale golden halo.
A person's oil is exhausted, but his heart is as clear as a mirror.
One who is almost crazy and obsessed to the point of madness.
But at this moment, in an almost tragic way, the deepest reconciliation and bond was achieved.
Life and death are endless, and the entanglement will never end.
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