Chapter 27

Wen Ran got out of bed, wrung out a towel to cool Gu Yunchi down. Usually Gu Yunchi took a special Fever Reducer, but there was no way to get that here. Wen Ran was at a loss, asking anxiously: 'Do you feel sick anywhere else?'

'Headache.'

'I'll massage it for you.' Sitting sideways was awkward, so Wen Ran moved the pillow away and carefully rested Gu Yunchi's head on his own lap.

'They don't have your medicine here, so bringing the fever down might take a while.' Wen Ran massaged him, hesitating for a long moment before saying, 'This is a special situation. You… do you want to consider using my Pheromone?'

Gu Yunchi's breathing was unsteady, his eyes tightly shut. He didn't speak. Wen Ran pressed the back of his hand to Gu Yunchi's hot cheek and said: 'I'm not trying to prove how useful my Pheromone is. I just don't want you to suffer. Once you're better tomorrow, if you're still angry, you can yell at me… or hit me.'

After a pause, Wen Ran added: 'But I'm really scared of pain, so please hit me lightly.'

He waited a little longer after speaking, then reached up to feel for the back of his neck. He opened the one-way switch on his Neck Ring to make sure it could block Gu Yunchi's Pheromone, then moved his hand to the side and turned the setting down one level.

Late at night, it was so quiet you could almost hear the distant sound of the sea. Sensing Gu Yunchi's condition gradually easing, Wen Ran lightened the pressure of his massage until it looked more like he was stroking Gu Yunchi's hair, over and over.

Gu Yunchi's eyes were lowered, his eyelashes occasionally fluttering. Wen Ran looked down at him. He didn't ask why Gu Yunchi wasn't sleeping. Instead, he said: 'There's one thing I've never understood.'

'Your brain,' Gu Yunchi said without even lifting an eyelid. 'You think there's only one thing you don't understand?'

'Okay… well, it's the one I most want to understand.' Wen Ran paused, gathered a lot of courage, and asked: 'That time, when the family portrait fell on the floor, you said to me, 'Second time.' I didn't get what you meant. Why was it the second time?'

It was quiet for several seconds before Gu Yunchi spoke. 'Are you really not remembering, or are you pretending to have amnesia?'

'If I were pretending, I wouldn't be asking you.' Wen Ran said, 'I… I was sick before. I stayed abroad for a long time. I've forgotten most things from when I was little.'

He was certain he'd never seen Gu Yunchi before returning to the Capital City. If, in Gu Yunchi's memory, they had crossed paths, then it could only have been with Wen Ran — the real Wen Ran.

Gu Yunchi said: 'You'd better really have forgotten.'

'I'm not lying to you.' Wen Ran looked down at his eyes and brows. 'Was it when we were little? Did I say something disrespectful about your parents?'

'At my parents' funeral.' Gu Yunchi's eyelashes moved. He closed his eyes. 'You threw a paper airplane in front of me. You were laughing. You asked me if my mom and dad died like that, and said it was really pitiful.'

This couldn't be brushed off as a child's innocent words. Wen Ran abruptly stopped his hand, disbelieving: 'Wh…'

'Your brother was standing right behind you, watching. You walked over to me and said it must have hurt a lot falling from the sky, that their hands and feet must have broken, that there must have been a lot of blood.'

Gu Yunchi stopped there. His tone, his expression, were both utterly calm, as if recounting an old story that had little to do with him. But Wen Ran knew that wasn't true.

Born into love and expectation, he'd once had a perfect family, destroyed in an instant by an Air Disaster. At an age when he couldn't really understand death, he lost his mom and dad forever. So for over a decade after, he could only rely on photographs to carry his memories and longing.

The small room in the villa stored everything about his parents — that wall covered in photos, that family portrait that never got a new frame. Gu Yunchi used countless pictures and a living room full of mementos to silently tell of all he'd experienced, to comfort the parents who couldn't be part of their son's life, and to soothe his own silently yearning heart.

Gu Yunchi loved his mom and dad deeply. Wen Ran had understood that clearly for a long time, which was why he'd never complained about having his Neck Ring pulled. But only now did he realize that what Gu Yunchi had done back then was already an act of tolerance and restraint.

An omega who'd shown disrespect at his parents' funeral had grown up to become the high-compatibility match he was forced to marry — given that premise, all the disgust and hatred were understandable. Gu Yunchi could have done much worse, been much harsher. Wen Ran could understand it, could make allowances for it.

A seemingly flawless closed loop, except that Wen Ran wasn't Wen Ran.

'I'm sorry…' Wen Ran's hand trembled uncontrollably. 'I'm sorry.'

Neither of them was at fault. It was just that he was doomed to forever stand on the side of blame and hatred. Because he was a substitute, taking over Wen Ran's identity and life, it was only natural he'd also have to bear the bad consequences Wen Ran had sown. There was no other choice.

He knew Gu Yunchi would never have said this otherwise — wouldn't have mentioned the funeral, the shattered frame, not to anyone, not even Lu Heyang or He Wei. The grief, the anger, the disgust — he wouldn't have spoken of any of it. Sometimes Wen Ran felt Gu Yunchi actually existed apart from emotion, so excessively calm that he'd cast off confiding and vulnerability altogether, examining and handling everything with a cold, silent gaze.

'I figured I couldn't have mistaken the person, since your brother was standing right there.' Gu Yunchi said lightly. 'And the tear mole under your eye. I remember it clearly.'

There was no arguing. The only thing Wen Ran could do was admit it. 'I'm sorry…' he said. 'But I really never meant to offend your mom and dad again, and I'm not pretending not to remember.'

Anything he said now was too late, useless, sounded like an excuse or an evasion. Wen Ran even wanted to tell Gu Yunchi that the omega who'd spoken those cruel words at age six wasn't him. He just couldn't reveal it. The fact that he was a Wen Family foster son was destined to go with him to the grave. All he could offer was a useless apology.

In the tangled roots of fate, they happened to be at opposite ends of a misplaced misunderstanding.

Wen Ran hung his head. He seemed unable to see Gu Yunchi's face clearly. He blinked hard, and the face became sharp again. In the deep blue light, Wen Ran saw a single tear under Gu Yunchi's eye, glistening brightly. He asked softly: 'Are you crying?'

Gu Yunchi opened his eyes, looking at him with a calm gaze. He said: 'You're the one crying.'

The next morning Wen Ran got up a little late. When he woke, Gu Yunchi was already gone from the room. His eyes felt strange. Wen Ran blinked hard and found they were swollen.

The conversation in the early hours had made Wen Ran shed some tears — he'd cried later, lying on his side facing the wall. He looked at the pillow. Sure enough, there was a faint stain of tears on the bright red pillowcase. Wen Ran got out of bed, pulled a tissue, dipped it in a little plain water, and wiped the mark off the pillowcase.

He went to the living room. On the table was a bowl of congee and a few steamed buns still steaming. Wen Ran looked toward the Courtyard. Gu Yunchi and Aunt Liu were sitting on small stools peeling corn husks. Qiuqiu probably wasn't up yet.

After breakfast, Wen Ran walked out of the house. Xiaohei, sitting by the stool, wagged his tail at him. The wagging tail happened to brush against Gu Yunchi's shoe. Gu Yunchi turned his head — their eyes met for barely a second before Wen Ran flickered his gaze away, asking Aunt Liu as if to cover it up: 'Auntie, where did Uncle Liu go?'

'You're up?' Aunt Liu turned her head and smiled at Wen Ran. 'He went to the shore. He'll be back in a bit to have some breakfast before taking the fish to the Village head. We're not going to the fields this morning. We'll kill a chicken, have a nicer lunch.'

As she spoke, Uncle Liu returned. Qiuqiu was up too. Aunt Liu went back inside to supervise her breakfast. Wen Ran stood outside the main gate watching Gu Yunchi's back as he peeled corn husks. A few seconds later, he turned and walked into the living room.

Receiving a message that the boss from town had already arrived at the Village entrance, Uncle Liu hurried out of the house to deliver the fish. Wen Ran walked over to Gu Yunchi's side, hesitated a moment, and asked him: 'Do you want to go to the Village entrance to take a look?'

Gu Yunchi glanced at Wen Ran's bulging pants pocket. 'What's there to see.'

'I want to see that tree. Will you go?' Not waiting for Gu Yunchi to answer, Wen Ran used a pleading tone: 'Come on.'

The two of them followed behind Uncle Liu's Three-Wheeled Cart, walking through the Village to the old tree circled by a concrete flower bed. Looking up, countless fluttering Prayer Ribbons were tangled in the tree's outstretched branches. Above was a huge, leafy canopy, its emerald leaves rustling and shaking.

'I asked Qiuqiu for two.' Wen Ran pulled the Prayer Ribbons and a black marker from his pants pocket. 'Let's write on them too.'

He handed one to Gu Yunchi. A breeze picked up. The soft Prayer Ribbon slipped through Gu Yunchi's fingers like a wisp of red wind you couldn't catch. So Wen Ran placed his own hand, tightly clutching the ribbon, onto Gu Yunchi's palm, then withdrew his hand from Gu Yunchi's closing fingers, leaving only the ribbon behind.

Wen Ran crouched down, leaned over the flower bed, and wrote his wish stroke by stroke: I hope Gu Yunchi gets better soon.

Gu Yunchi: ?

Seeing his expression, Wen Ran explained: 'If you're healthy, you won't have to marry someone you don't like.'

'Someone you don't like' was himself. Realizing this, Wen Ran suddenly felt blank and stunned. He pressed his lips together before continuing: 'And you won't get fevers and sick so often. You'll definitely be happier and freer than you are now.'

Gu Yunchi looked at that line of well-wishing. Wen Ran's handwriting was as ugly as ever. He shifted his gaze to Wen Ran's solemn face and said: 'Why are you worrying about my business.'

Wen Ran didn't understand. 'I'm just making a wish. I'm not saying anything bad about you. Why are you unhappy?'

'Why don't you wish for the Wen Family to achieve their goal soon, so you won't have to act so subserviently in front of me.'

'The Wish Tree is for placing good wishes. What you said isn't good.' Wen Ran answered him very seriously, very calmly. 'And I'm not acting subservient. I've always been like this. It's the same at home.'

Gu Yunchi looked at him. 'If I get better, you'll have no use to either family.'

The sentence seemed finished, yet also seemed incomplete. If there was a second half, it would definitely be: 'Your outcome might be pretty ugly.'

'The Wen Family has already gotten a lot. But I haven't been able to help you much. My value was always small. Whether I'm here or not makes no difference.' Wen Ran looked like he'd accepted all the bad things. He handed the marker to Gu Yunchi. 'You write.'

'No need.' Gu Yunchi didn't take the marker. 'I have no wishes.'

'Okay, right.' Wen Ran nodded.

He didn't lack money or love. He didn't lack a present where he possessed countless things, nor a brilliant, open future. He already had almost everything most people could never have. Someone like that really didn't need to make wishes. Probably disdained them, because he already had the ability to make anything happen.

Wen Ran tucked the marker back into his pants pocket, stepped onto the flower bed, and before climbing the small ladder leaning against the tree — specially for hanging Prayer Ribbons — he turned back to ask Gu Yunchi: 'Then do you want your ribbon tied? We can tie them together.'

'Whatever.' Gu Yunchi handed it over.

Gripping the two ribbons, Wen Ran climbed the ladder, looked up, raised his hand, and tied them firmly. Amid a tree of fluttering red silk, Wen Ran seemed to be sitting inside a ball of fire. He looked down at Gu Yunchi and said: 'I wouldn't lie to the Wish Tree. Everything I said was true.'

Rustle — another gust of wind. The long and short Prayer Ribbons flew up like fiercely burning flames, almost swallowing Wen Ran whole — swallowing his body, his face, his voice.

Gu Yunchi stood under the tree, his head slightly raised, until Wen Ran climbed down the ladder and turned around. He saw those eyes again.