The author has something to say:
In the next chapter, Night Fire will be live streaming~
The update might come late tomorrow.
Today is February 14th, wishing the faraway Brother Long a happy birthday, and also a happy birthday to all the lovely people born today O3O
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Long Jue / Valentine’s Day Extra / Sickness
The end of the funeral was merely a beginning.
Uncle Jiang turned white-haired overnight, Mei Shengyao disappeared without a trace, and Huo Ren was taken abroad by Pei Ruye for treatment and healing.
Six people suddenly lost three, and even the air seemed to thin out.
Bo Jue realized only at the end of the funeral that he needed to find a new place to live.
He stayed in the funeral home for three days, feeling somewhat panic-stricken when he finally left.
Where to go?
Xie Lianyun was busy with Uncle Jiang, handling business collaborations set for half a year to a year ahead, with no chance to make phone calls to them.
But the 17th floor, after all, needed to be cleaned up.
At this moment, the only person standing by his side was his first love, his old friend, and also the person he had loved for a long time.
Bo Jue had never prepared for this kind of farewell, so when he stood again in the empty living room, he suddenly wanted to call out the names of those brothers.
Chi Chi, come and play the piano with me.
Yao Yao, where have you gone again? It’s been raining lately, remember to bring an umbrella.
Ren Ren is so sick, I don’t know when he will recover.
He stood quietly in the living room for a long time.
Long Jia silently finished a cigarette and after a long while said, “Let’s pack up a bit and go.”
“Where to?” Bo Jue asked blankly: “Where can I go?”
Long Jia turned quickly to glance at his current state.
Lips pale, dark circles heavy, utterly worn and tired to the extreme.
Comforting words were of little meaning at this moment.
They were the last two brothers left guarding the 17th floor.
Long Jia wanted to hug him, but after a long pause, turned around instead, crouching to pick up a few scattered strawberries on the floor.
“Let’s not pack.”
Bo Jue chuckled softly: “How could that be?”
“There’s nothing impossible,” Long Jia calmly said: “We’ll leave this floor to us, cover it with dust covers, maybe we’ll come back someday.”
Maybe just to sit for a little while, bask in the sun, have a cup of tea.
Bo Jue looked back into the distance again, his gaze covering all the places the six of them had played and laughed together.
The grand piano, the six bedrooms, the study, the balcony, and Xie Lianyun’s absurd open-air bathtub.
“I don’t like this,” he softly said: “I don’t like the now.”
They looked at this floor for a long time, then silently started to tidy all the miscellaneous items, checking all the scattered documents and files, and cleaning Chi Chi’s room.
During this, Long Jia found some scraps of paper under the bed, remnants that hadn’t been burned completely, blown deep under the bed by the wind.
He quietly put the scraps into a folder, then pulled open the curtains, letting sunlight fill the room.
According to tradition, the deceased’s clothes should all be burned, leaving nothing behind.
They chose to keep them, counting each item carefully, cleaning everything from bedside lamps to wardrobes, as if waiting for Chi Ji to come home.
They spent the entire day tidying up, from 10 in the morning until 9 at night.
Bo Jue’s mind was a numb mess, not taking anything with him despite having piles of belongings that wouldn’t fit into five suitcases, entering the house with empty suitcases and leaving with them still empty.
Long Jia stood in the dimly lit outside, waiting for him to come down together.
They had fulfilled the last duty as brothers; it was time to leave.
The Bo family arrived soon after, purchasing a detached villa in a relatively quiet area of the city center for Bo Jue, and instructing Bo Huan to stay and keep his brother company.
Only after the Bo parents returned to their country did Bo Jue finally let go of all concerns and fell seriously ill.
He was finally allowed to be sick.
Perhaps, he had been sick for too long already.
Consciousness felt like a thread of a spider’s web caught in a whirlpool, torn and scrambled by the torrent, divided into invisible fragments by the rocks.
Every breath caused a chain of dull pain, and sleep felt like a real protection, yet also like an indiscernible, gloomy mist.
Bo Jue curled up with a pillow for a long time, as if he could never wake up from his slumber.
He vaguely knew he was being fed medicine, given injections and IV drips, and wiped on the forehead with a warm towel soaked in water.
Being sick took up half a month, as if he no longer had to worry about anything.
During this time, Xie Lianyun visited several times, silently sitting by the bed for a long time, helping with the medicine, and wiping his lips with a cotton swab.
Long Jia always stayed in the room, sleeping on the sofa in the corner of Bo Jue’s bedroom, waking up several times at night, hurriedly checking his temperature before going back to sleep wrapped in a blanket.
When Bo Jue regained full consciousness, it was already spring.
He realized many things belatedly.
His lively and noisy younger brother was here.
His ex-boyfriend was also here.
He didn’t know where he was.
“…Wake up.” Bo Jue called out with a hoarse voice: “What’s the date today?”
Long Jia was not yet fully awake, mumbling a response from the long sofa three meters away.
Bo Jue, feeling sorry for him, wanted to get out of bed to cover him with a blanket, but moving caused his whole body to ache terribly, and he could hardly stand.
He had not been this sick in a long time.
Long Jia sat up almost instantly upon hearing the rustling of the bedding, instinctively reaching for his elbow.
“Be careful not to fall—Bo Jue, you’re awake?”
Bo Jue swayed, looking around, wanting to ask something.
Before he could speak, Bo Huan came in quickly with a basin of hot water, nearly jumping in surprise.
“Today I’ll take care of—brother! Be careful not to catch a cold! Go back to bed and sit tight, I’ll help you wash your face, you’re finally getting better!”
The younger brother meticulously helped his older brother back to bed, covering him with blankets and propping him up with pillows, skillfully giving him water, wiping his face, and feeding him medicine.
Then, he began to nag habitually.
“This one’s a bit bitter, brother… bear with it.”
“Brother, mom and dad are really worried about you, maybe we can video call them tonight.”
“Let me wipe your face again, your hair was washed yesterday, it’s very clean, don’t worry~”
Bo Jue lay in bed, lacking the strength to resist, letting his younger brother carefully fuss over him with a warm towel.
He watched Bo Huan for a while, as if confirming where exactly this guy had sprung from, then slightly turned his head to look at the sleepy Long Jia beside him.
They looked at each other for a long time, even with the busy younger brother in between.
It was as if he was seeing through the current Long Jia, back to him at seventeen or eighteen, and himself when they first met.
Their gazes interconnected for half a minute, long enough for Bo Huan to notice something and turn his head to look.
“Is brother looking at him?”
Bo Jue snapped back to reality, reflexively gripping Bo Huan’s hand.
Startled, Bo Huan blushed slightly: “Brother, are you feeling unwell? Do you want to eat something?”
Bo Jue wasn’t sure what he was doing at the moment, so he squeezed Bo Huan’s hand again.
Much thinner, bones felt immediately upon touch.
He passively began to adjust to these changes.
His new residence was a small western-style house with a garden, turning right out of the neighborhood led to Central Park, where he could go to feed the swans.
His younger brother turned into a housekeeper, liked to keep journals and write recipes, and decorated every corner of the house with bouquets.
Sometimes, Bo Jue was choked by the perfume of lilies, sneezing several times, frowning and telling him not to do so much. The next day, the lilies were gone, replaced by a large pot of mint.
Xie Lianyun was busy with something unknown, Mei Shengyao hadn’t called even once, and Ren Ren had just met a new therapist.
The person who often visited, familiar yet strange, was still the now differently positioned Long Jia.
Bo Jue treated him very politely.
After their breakup, they had been deliberately maintaining a distance, no longer sharing their thoughts or caring about each other’s lives, keeping many emotions to themselves.
When Long Jia came over, he restrained himself, sometimes just stopping by for a cup of coffee, chatting for a bit before leaving.
Bo Jue sat on the other side of the table, occasionally zoning out.
He suddenly felt that this person had become a long bridge in his life.
Linking the past, bridging the future, silent and always there, as if waiting to carry him along for another journey.
“It’s getting late,” Long Jia glanced at his watch, said gently: “I should go now, we’ll catch up another time.”
“Wait a moment.”
The man paused, looking at him questioningly.
Bo Jue’s mind was a mess. He quickly dismissed many aimless and meaningless topics, abruptly saying: “I seem to have been sick for a long time.”
Long Jia poured him a cup of hot milk, his eyes filled with a calm gentleness: “You should allow yourself to be sick for a while.”
Bo Jue frowned, wanting to argue.
“Allow yourself to not achieve some things, to not save some past, and also allow yourself to be sick for a while.” Long Jia sat back down by his side, reaching out to hold his left hand: “Bo Jue, this is not advice, but a plea.”
“I beg you to forgive yourself for a while, even if it’s just for truly being sick. You can be sick, you can fail to do many things, you can be the one being protected.”
Long Jia’s voice was deep and soothing, almost hypnotic in its steadiness.
“I can’t do it.” Bo Jue’s eyes suddenly filled with tears: “How can I do such a thing?”
He always felt an overzealous sense of participation, wanting to protect everyone, to take care of everything.
He felt Xie Lianyun silently shouldered too much, felt Huo Ren had never truly rested these years, felt Mei Shengyao had faced too much from a young age.
He had never experienced any of their hardships firsthand; for six years, he was always a helpless bystander.
He simply couldn’t allow himself to let go of the guilt, not even for a second.
“What if it’s for me?” Long Jia asked.
Bo Jue paused for a second before crying.
“…For you?”
Long Jia hadn’t expected to say this out loud, stood up intending to avoid the topic, yet held his breath and finished his thought.
“Even if it’s just to ease my mind a bit.”
Bo Jue felt something swirling in his eyes; he tried to appear calm and collected, but his voice nearly broke.
“We’ve been… apart for so long, haven’t we?”
Long Jia shook his head, his grip tightening.
“That wasn’t separation.”
He looked into his eyes, his voice husky.
“Separation is to make one realize what they have.”
“From the age of seventeen, when my heart first stirred, to this very second.”
“Bo Jue, some things have never changed.”
“Bo Jue, if you are sick, then I am always sick.”
“You breathe, and I live.”
Ahhhhhhh😭 I feel so wrecked for what happened to them