Chapter 36: The Price of Recklessness

The man had his trouser legs rolled up and wore a straw hat. His clothes were caked with mud, obscuring his original appearance, making him look like an ordinary migrant worker from a distance.

Guan Qing’s expression went blank for a fleeting moment.

The two stared at each other for a while before Xie Xu was the first to lose his composure. He pulled his hand to the brim of his hat, tugging it lower to hide the wound on his forehead, and said in a hoarse voice:

“It’s too dangerous here, you—”

His words trailed off. He clearly saw Guan Qing, standing in the heavy rain, begin to cry.

It was a complete, cathartic breakdown.

Guan Qing’s strength instantly gave out, his legs buckling beneath him, nearly collapsing to the ground.

He fell into an embrace. It wasn’t a warm one, not after standing in the heavy rain for so long.

Sweat, rainwater, the earthy scent of soil.

A medley of these smells converged, spelling out the name ‘Xie Xu’ in Guan Qing’s mind. It anchored Guan Qing’s ankles, pulling him back to solid ground from where he’d been floating mid-air.

All the pent-up grievances and terror spilled out in a torrent. Guan Qing reached out, clutching Xie Xu’s clothes, his grip tightening with each passing second.

Xie Xu turned, hoisting him onto his back, allowing Guan Qing to lean against him. He murmured softly:

“I’ll take you somewhere safe first. I’ll send you back once the rain stops.”

“How dangerous was it for you to come here? The road is bad, and it’s easy for cars to skid.”

“What were you doing crouching next to someone’s remains? You scared me.”

Xie Xu greeted his teammates, then draped the borrowed raincoat over Guan Qing’s head before walking away.

Guan Qing remained silent.

Xie Xu thought he had fallen asleep. He shifted Guan Qing higher on his back, allowing his head to rest against his shoulder to shield him from more rain. When he turned his head, his gaze met Guan Qing’s directly.

That look instantly made Xie Xu’s heart ache.

Cautious, disbelieving, his eyes brimming with tears, Guan Qing appeared both tender and fragile in the dim light. He pressed his lips together, as if living the most beautiful dream of his life, unwilling to wake.

“I’ll never again—”

Xie Xu hesitated for a moment before speaking.

Guan Qing shook his head, carefully pinching Xie Xu’s ear, as if to confirm this person was real. He whispered:

“I love you.”

He buried his face in Xie Xu’s shoulder, a soft, tearful whimper escaping him: “Xie Xu, I love you.”

Xie Xu stopped in his tracks.

This way, Guan Qing wouldn’t hear his distinctly rapid heartbeat.

He was both heartbroken and overwhelmed with emotion.

“You actually didn’t need to come. I didn’t expect this storm to be so severe. The road was already blocked before I entered the mountain. There was an accident ahead, and they were short-handed, so I came to lend a hand. The signal was bad, and I couldn’t make calls… I wouldn’t have been in danger.”

Xie Xu remained silent for a moment. The arm supporting Guan Qing’s knees tightened, and he slowly continued walking.

Guan Qing’s hand, clutching Xie Xu’s clothes, trembled.

He took a breath, his voice quivering as he asked:

“You wouldn’t have been in danger?”

Anger surged to his head, even overpowering the relief, gratitude, and joy he’d just felt. He was almost incoherent: “The people in that car, that deceased Alpha—did they know they would be in danger? Did their families know?”

“Where do you get such confidence?” He suppressed his tears, trembling with fury. “If something happened to you, I…”

‘What would I do?’

A clap of thunder exploded in their ears, and the rain intensified, lashing down like knives. Xie Xu wiped his face, offering no reply. He continued walking with Guan Qing on his back, saying:

“Let’s go to a safe place first. We’re still at the foot of the mountain.”

He continued as he walked: “You really don’t need to worry about me. I’ll protect myself, and I’ll protect you.”

Guan Qing tried to hold back, but he couldn’t. He was so angry he almost laughed:

“So I don’t need to know anything, and I’m not allowed to know anything, is that right?”

Xie Xu remained silent.

“You… do you think you’re very noble?” Guan Qing was so angry he spoke without thinking. “So powerful, so great. You want me to always admire you, to always look up to you—”

“I don’t,” Xie Xu said sullenly.

“You—” Guan Qing paused. “Of course I understand. Everyone struggles with fear of loss, everyone is afraid to be honest, but…”

Another clap of thunder. Xie Xu looked down at his feet, quickening his pace. Guan Qing stopped speaking. He had keenly sensed something was amiss.

He looked up at the sky.

The rain was too heavy. The entire view was a deluge, obscuring everything. Guan Qing’s eyesight wasn’t good either; he vaguely saw a small dark shadow, mistaking it for an animal.

The next second, a piece of gravel fell behind them, making a loud sound.

Xie Xu, with Guan Qing on his back, walked quickly, oblivious to everything.

The path was too narrow. The search and rescue team’s base camp was on the other side, and this was the fastest route. Guan Qing looked ahead, a sudden ominous feeling washing over him.

It sounded like thunder, yet it wasn’t thunder. It came from afar, drawing closer, a dark, oppressive presence.

He froze, goosebumps prickling his skin.

“Xie Xu, put me down first.”

Xie Xu asked him, “What’s wrong?”

Guan Qing’s hearing had always been more acute than Xie Xu’s. In such rainy weather, visibility was poor for everyone; even with a flashlight, the range was less than five meters, making hearing exceptionally important.

Guan Qing forcefully jumped off Xie Xu’s back, slapped his shoulder, and yelled, “Run to the side! Quick!”

Xie Xu frowned, turning to look at him: “What’s wrong? I’ll carry you, you—”

By the light of the flashlight, Xie Xu saw Guan Qing’s expression.

Guan Qing was drenched, his gaze at Xie Xu gentle and full of longing. He looked at him so deeply, as if to imprint this image in his memory for a very long time.

Through the vast downpour, he curved the corners of his eyes at Xie Xu.

Xie Xu panicked.

It was only a second, yet in his vision, it stretched endlessly, slowing down. He reached out, wanting to grasp Guan Qing, wanting to pick him up. His heart pounding, he said:

“What exactly is wrong? Can you tell me? We’ll solve it together.”

“If, if there’s a next time—” Guan Qing pursed his lips, smiling a grimace that was worse than crying.

“Next time what?” Xie Xu was sweating profusely with anxiety.

Guan Qing pushed Xie Xu’s back, urging him to run forward. The sound grew closer, and this time, Xie Xu heard it too.

“Just ahead is—”

“It’s too late,” Xie Xu heard Guan Qing say softly.

The ground’s tremors grew violent, almost throwing them into the air. Guan Qing stepped on loose stones, suddenly erupting with immense strength. He forcefully pushed Xie Xu away.

Xie Xu turned, his pupils constricting.

He watched as Guan Qing smiled at him, mouthed something, and then—

That smile, and the person smiling at him… were swallowed by a massive landslide of mud and shattered rock.

The debris landed right at his feet. It was only by a hair’s breadth; if not for Guan Qing’s push, he would have been buried there instead.

‘I love you.’

Xie Xu’s mind went blank for a moment.

His face covered in mud, he scrambled up, digging frantically at the rubble with his bare hands.

In the heavy rain, desperate, broken sobs echoed.

It seemed this man… had been pushed to his breaking point.

****

In the darkness, Guan Qing heard his own heartbeat.

One beat, then another. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was incredibly steady.

For some unknown reason, at the moment he pushed Xie Xu away, he was so certain that he wouldn’t die.

Xie Xu was still in this world. He hadn’t loved enough, hadn’t finished the things he wanted to do… he couldn’t leave.

It was a strange, wondrous feeling. In that fleeting moment of near-death, he saw his future with Xie Xu so clearly.

A house by the sea, a cat and a dog, a little boy shouting and playing in the sand.

A man, his face indistinct, stood beside him, taking his hand, their fingers intertwined.

The man’s voice was low and pleasant:

“Just wait for me a little longer, just a little.”

“I… I’ll be there soon, don’t leave.”

Guan Qing was utterly bewildered. He wanted to ask the man what he meant, but he couldn’t speak. Like a puppet on strings, he opened his mouth and said:

“Okay.”

“I’ll wait, no matter how long.”

Everything before his eyes vanished, everything returned to darkness.

In that pitch-black darkness, he heard his heartbeat again. This time, another sound joined it—another heartbeat.

The two heartbeats, initially chaotic, gradually synchronized until, finally—

They resonated.

A light appeared at the edge of his vision. The crack widened, eventually engulfing all consciousness.

In the last flicker of light, he saw a pair of eyes.

Filled with tears, sorrowful yet deeply affectionate, they gazed at him. The eyes were light in color, glowing with a brilliant, mesmerizing luster like glazed glass in the light.

He reached out for those eyes, and then—

Guan Qing lay in a hospital bed, opening his eyes. On the table, there was a half-peeled apple and a fruit knife; the apple was already partially oxidized.

There was also a letter.

Guan Qing first scanned his surroundings but didn’t see the person he hoped for. A faint sense of disappointment tinged his heart.

He picked up the letter. On the cover, in Xie Xu’s handwriting, it read:

‘To my beloved Guan Qing.’

He traced the cover, his fingers brushing over the words. Xie Xu’s handwriting wasn’t particularly good, somewhat like a middle school student’s, but he had written it very carefully. Guan Qing could almost picture Xie Xu holding the pen earnestly, writing each stroke with precision.

Guan Qing paused, not immediately opening it.

He checked his phone for the time—he had only been unconscious for about a day.

He looked at today’s date, suddenly remembering something, and called the cake shop.

Guan Qing’s injuries weren’t severe. Because he had run fast, he was buried in a shallow spot, didn’t suffocate, and was even lucky enough not to be hit by falling rocks. He had only fainted from extreme fatigue and a mild concussion.

A Weibo notification suddenly popped up.

Guan Qing hesitated, then tapped it open. He had only read the first two words, ‘plagiarism,’ and was about to continue when the doorbell suddenly rang.

The doorbell chimed urgently, a continuous series of rings. Guan Qing got out of bed, his legs still a little weak. He steadied himself before walking to open the door.

Before he could clearly see the person at the door, a slap flew horizontally through the air. Guan Qing tilted his head, avoiding it, and frowned as he looked up—

The young man was panting, his face pale, riddled with countless emotions: terror, jealousy, madness.

He pointed at Guan Qing’s nose, trembling uncontrollably.

…It was Jiang Lu.

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