▬ ⠀ during that time, if shi mei had praised him with "well done," he would've flown into the sky with happiness. but if chu wanning had been willing to givea "not bad," he would've gladly given his life.

▬ ⠀ he obviously disliked chu wanning. so why was it that sometimes, when he looked at him, he felt so at peace—so warm?

▬ ⠀ but this warmth, which was such a precious treasure to him, was to the man holding his hand perhaps as worthless as a pair of worn-out shoes— something that might not be worth mentioning, or perhaps not even worth noticing at all.

▬ ⠀ did you know the most wonderful dreams are rarely ever true?

▬ ⠀ reckless affection and passionate, obsessive entanglements; these things only grew in the soil of youth.

▬ ⠀ when chu wanning was young, he'd also hoped there might be someone who would stay by his side, with whom he might share wine beneath the moon, but he'd waited and waited, and still this person had never arrived.

▬ ⠀ it was as if he was hiding in a cocoon, and time was continuously spinning silk around him. at first, he had still seen some light from the outside seeping through the walls, but year after year, there was more and more silk, and the cocoon grew thicker and thicker, so much so that he could no longer see the light. within the cocoon there was only himself, and the darkness.

▬ ⠀ what had he done, for even such a small daydream to be drowned by storming, frigid rain.

▬ ⠀ mo ran had already told him that their only tie was that of a master and his disciple. it was nobody's fault but his own that the slightest scrap of hope had sent him dizzy with excitement, flying like a moth into a blazing fire. if he was scorched to ashes, that was entirely on him.

▬ ⠀ it hurt too much, holding someone in his heart like this, hidden carefully in the very depths of his thoughts. it was fine if that person didn't like him, as long as he could think abouut that person quietly and protect them silently. it was fine if he couldn't have that person. all of it was fine. but that person's warmth and tenderness were bestowed upon others while the only things offered to him were barbs and thorns. so although chu wanning held him in his heart, whenever that person moved, his heart would start to bleed. day after day, new wounds appeared before the old ones had a chance to heal.

▬ ⠀ by the time mo ran came back to his senses, this one glance had his heart beating fast and his palms covered in sweat. even his breathing had involuntarily slowed.

▬ ⠀ shizun, your taste in love is dreadful... absolutely abysmal...

▬ ⠀ from this dim and narrow perspective, chu wanning was like a plate of savory and aromatic crispy meat that had been placed into a filthy, broken box. mo ran was the only person in the entire world who had opened the box and been able to taste the deliciousness inside. he'd never had to worry about someone else finding out this delicacy and drooling over it. but tonight, bathed in the warmth of the stove fire and tipsy from the warmed wine, so many pairs of eyes were turned toward this box that had once been of no interest to anyone. mo ran suddenly felt nervous. he wanted to cover the box and chase away the people salivating over his food like he'd swat away annoying flies. then he remembered that, in this life, the crispy meat didn't belong to him. his hands were full of clear, translucent wontons; he had no time to chase away the wolves drooling over another meal.

▬ ⠀ he'd have preferred to rip chu wanning apart with his own hands—bite through his ribcage and tear out his organs like a beast—than allow someone else to touch him.

▬ ⠀ hell is too cold, chu wanning. i'll take you to the grave with me.

▬ ⠀ your body is mine, and your life too. you want to be their fire, but i'll take you to the grave with me. i'll make you shine on my dead body and nothing else. i want you to rot with me. to live or to die, neither is your choice to make...

▬ ⠀ there was nobody to take care of you before, but from now on, there will be. you've already called me your shixiong, so from here on out, i'll take care of you properly.

▬ ⠀ sure, there are kind people, but they're only kind for their reputation. humans are vile by nature; any so-called good person is just trying to get something in return for their deeds. let's be honest: once forced into a corner, they won't care whether other people live or die.

▬ ⠀ i also feel hunger and sadness, i'm human too...

▬ ⠀ it wasn't that he didn't care for those around him, only that he did it quietly. such quietude, day after day, without anyone to see or notice, was also a kind of torment.

▬ ⠀ listen up: this person is mine, i'm taking him.

▬ ⠀ shizun... chu wanning... i've already lived two lifetimes, but could it be that there are still things about you that i don't know?

▬ ⠀ a misunderstanding of one year is a misunderstanding. a misunderstanding of ten years is an injustice. a misunderstanding of a lifetime, from life unto death, is fate. their fate was blighted.

▬ ⠀ ...that as the days had passed, i'd grown into the you i held in my heart.

▬ ⠀ i want to hold an umbrella over shizun for as long as i live.

▬ ⠀ chu wanning had so rarely received kindness that this flood of tenderness felt like pain instead.

▬ ⠀ he had taken his heart and drowned it in the ocean of desires.

▬ ⠀ i know. i know a lot of things about you. i understand, and even if there are some things in your past i don't know about, i'm willing to listen, to share the burden with you. don't just keep everything to yourself, locked away behind those walls. aren't you tired? isn't it difficult?

▬ ⠀ who was it who said the only unbearable things in this world were love, destitution, and sneezes? they had clearly forgotten about chili peppers.

▬ ⠀ the worst thing about men was that the brain between their legs never listened to the brain atop their shoulders.

▬ ⠀ win or lose, i just want an excuse to treat you well.

▬ ⠀ so sinful, yet so beautiful. like a white swallowtail butterfly snared in a spider's web, wings powerlessly quivering in tightly knit lust, never, never, never, to escape. he'd finally been dirtied. dirtied to the bone, dirtied so wretchedly, so pitifully, that the filth was an allure unto itself, one that tempted others to violation, drew them into addiction.

▬ ⠀ he had once thought that to love someone was to respect and cherish them, to hold them in his cupped hands with greatest care, never daring to harbor even the slightest inappropriate thought toward them.

▬ ⠀ there were many kinds of love in this world, but romantic love was the kind that could never be pure and clean. it was bound to be stained with hot, sticky sweat and dyed the color of bare skin; it was braided with tangled locks of hair and he bitter pungency of photinia blossoms; it was clouded with moans and passion. it was a tender, glistening flower that could only bloom in the sultry, damp mud of a warmed bed.

▬ ⠀ like—what a reserved, ambiguous word. unlike "love", so nakedly forthnight that it would scorch a person's heart, "like" was a word that could be interpreted in myriad ways, allowing lovesick men and women everywhere to confess their feelings beneath a veneer of calm, allowing them an outlet for some part of the affection that filled their hearts to bursting.

▬ ⠀ when two people share both food and company, that's when you really taste the food, feel its warmth. that's called eating a meal.