Chapter 128#
Of Things Past · II#
“Good and evil both meet their end.” The squad captain — the one who had once fallen out of a tree under Yu Feichen’s watchful gaze — muttered to himself: “I actually feel a kind of joy right now, like a great grudge has finally been avenged. Yu-ge, so this day has come for you too.”
“But Mr. Anfei really is so good-looking,” Xia Sen said dreamily.
“Who’s arguing otherwise. I’d spend money on him too.”
“But you don’t have any money.”
On the other side, Yu Feichen finally tore his gaze away from Anfei and walked on ahead. The ground was uneven and grassy, so he didn’t let go of Anfei’s hand.
They crossed the River of Things Past, and a tranquil night breeze greeted them.
Their destination, the town of Yolan, lay hidden behind dense forest and winding rivers — nestled between two mountains. Where they stood was at the foot of the right-hand mountain, where a cluster of small buildings formed the town’s center. From there the mountain rose upward, and the homes of other residents were scattered throughout, their lights dotting the hillside like stars. The mountain opposite was a dramatic cliff face that jutted sharply upward, its wall sheer and smooth. People could only ascend it by rope ladder, and the polished rock surface was covered in ancient petroglyphs — quite famous in their own right.
Upon arriving in town, the handful of tourists dispersed to explore on their own, each left to find their own lodgings for the night.
“Where would you like to go?” Yu Feichen now had to tilt his head slightly downward to look at Anfei.
Anfei picked the brightest direction: “Let’s go there.”
He walked ahead, his fingers resting lightly atop Yu Feichen’s knuckles. Physical contact was a strange sensation, especially for people like them who rarely drew close to others.
It felt like forging some kind of connection.
The brightest part of the town was the central square, where the townspeople were holding a lively night market. Beneath every tree stood a small stall selling fruit, grain, furs, magical materials, and simple handicrafts. At the very center was a bonfire, and a crowd danced around it, singing ancient folk songs.
The townspeople looked different from outsiders — darker skin, hair woven through with plant stems, and strange butterfly-wing tattoos on their cheeks. But with tourists passing through regularly, they held no aversion to visitors. The crowd jostled them forward. Along the way, Anfei was stopped and pitched to by stall-keeping townspeople seven times, and asked to join the dancing by young men and women five times. The joyful atmosphere and the overwhelming enthusiasm left Anfei barely keeping up; eventually they drifted to the edge of the crowd, close enough to be part of it yet just far enough to breathe.
Because of its proximity to the Paradise, Huibing stones were accepted as currency in Landenwollen just as elsewhere — convenient. Later, Anfei received a portion of roasted venison served in a trumpet-shaped green leaf. He held the leaf in his left hand and an oddly shaped local silver utensil in his right, both hands occupied, so Yu Feichen ended up holding the large bouquet of flowers Anfei had bought earlier, as well as a cup of berry juice.
Anfei occasionally fed him a piece. The venison had been brushed with honey during roasting, and the scent of fresh flowers mingled with each bite as it reached Yu Feichen’s mouth — he found himself in a good mood.
Not because the venison was particularly good, of course, but because he could tell Anfei was happy. At moments like this he would hold the berry juice out to Anfei, and Anfei would lean in to catch the soft straw between his lips, take a sip, and let go.
To the rhythm of butterfly-skin drums, firelight made the young man’s eyes sparkle brilliantly, like a translucent cat’s-eye jade — an emotion that came from somewhere genuine. His outward appearance had grown smaller; perhaps his inner age had followed. But it didn’t matter. Whatever state the chief god was in, at times like these, he would be happy.
The crowd pressed in again — a group of young people clamoring to push past them toward the center. The lane was narrow, and someone was still looking down eating. Yu Feichen pulled him by the shoulder toward himself; given the difference in their heights, the gesture came entirely naturally.
Anfei looked up. He didn’t mind being touched, and he quietly permitted Yu Feichen’s hand to remain. Yu Feichen’s fingers curled around his shoulder, and the cool, clean air around him kept the crowd at a distance that was neither too close nor too far — as if reaching forward would bring you right to them, yet stepping back would have you sheltered, completely enclosed.
Yu Feichen said nothing, but simply having him there made it feel as though there was always somewhere to retreat to.
Someone released a swarm of butterflies, and their wing-dust drifted down. One speck was blown into Anfei’s eye by the wind — a faint, stinging sensation. Anfei blinked, and lowered his head, but Yu Feichen noticed.
Grown, Anfei had long, tapered outer corners to his eyes; now, however, they still held a slightly rounded curve. Both eyes had somehow gone a little red — delicate, fragile against the elements, like a cat’s.
Yu Feichen lowered his head to look at Anfei’s eyes, fingers gently parting the dense lashes. They drew a little closer — and then cheering erupted around them. It turned out they had unknowingly wandered into the space beside the bonfire where the young people danced and sought company.
Someone nearby released even more butterflies in their direction, and the young foreign townspeople called out warmly, laughing: “It’s the second half of the night! The flowers are already bought — take him back to your room!”
All the atmosphere shattered at once. Many people were staring. Yu Feichen practically dragged Anfei out with him. They only stopped when they reached a quiet corner. When he glanced down, Anfei was looking up at him with a subtle, mischievous gleam in his eyes.
When Anfei smiled like that, Yu Feichen didn’t know what to do with him — so he simply looked down at him in silence.
They had rushed over so quickly that some pollen had smudged onto Yu Feichen’s collar and along his sleeve — white against black fabric, very visible. Anfei noticed, and reached up to brush it off.
The night had been so lively; now that it had abruptly gone quiet, it felt disorienting, like something out of a dream.
Anfei stood with his head bowed, carefully attending to the fabric. Yu Feichen could only see a head of beautiful, soft golden hair.
Suddenly, an impulse rose in him — a desire to pull the person in front of him into his arms.
Anfei finished with the pollen and looked up, only to meet Yu Feichen’s gaze — almost tangible in its weight. He startled slightly, an uncharacteristic awkwardness crossing his face. He said: “Let’s go.”
The street crowds were still there but had thinned from the earlier frenzy. They found the inn’s sign in the middle of a long alleyway. The innkeeper was behind the counter taking stock of her spirits — she didn’t look up when they came in, and said: “Quite a few visitors from outside lately, the inn’s nearly full today. What kind of room are you wanting?”
Anfei said: “What do you have?”
The clear, melodious voice drew the innkeeper’s attention; she turned and immediately spotted the large bouquet of flowers in Yu Feichen’s arms.
“Ah, I see, I see,” she said cheerfully. “A once-in-a-lifetime chance to give flowers — the room on the top floor, number three. Twenty percent off for you, and if two people decide to be together, they must never part.”
Shut inside the room, both Yu Feichen and Anfei looked at the bouquet.
Anfei had wanted the flowers simply because they were beautiful. They had apparently stumbled into a local custom without knowing it — whether it was the wrong type of flower, or whether buying flowers at all had carried a meaning, was unclear.
Nevermind. Having a room to rest in was enough.
The room was a good size. Butterfly-wing decorations hung on the walls; the bedding was a snow-white plant-fiber material. A floor-to-ceiling window looked out over the central street market below.
Yu Feichen came out after washing up to find Anfei standing barefoot on the carpet with damp hair draped over his shoulders, gazing out the window.
A towel lay casually set aside — it looked as though he had stopped halfway through drying his hair. He was staring out at those joyful people, lost in thought.
Yu Feichen now acknowledged it: as part of the divine realm, Landenwollen was indeed different from Paradise. The people who lived in Paradise were those who had come seeking the gods. They moved through the world on behalf of the chief gods, completing tasks, receiving rewards — they drank and made merry — but ultimately, once they had earned enough Huibing stones, or proven their faith, or learned what they came to learn, they returned to their homelands. Old believers left; new believers kept coming.
Klaeros had called those who came through the Gate of Eternal Night “guests” — and only now did Yu Feichen understand how fitting the word was. In Paradise, generation after generation — all were wanderers passing through. It was the divine realm, Landenwollen, that was the true homeland. People were born here; they died here. They had not seen more of the world, and yet their happiness was no shallower than what could be found in Paradise — if anything, it was more deeply rooted.
The happiness of these people was perhaps the reason for Paradise’s existence — the thing Mogrorsh had sent him to Landenwollen to understand.
— And the reason a god would give everything.
It was hard to say whether it moved him or simply clarified something. He understood it now, but nothing changed. He felt no particular emotion for the people of the divine realm; no sense of responsibility for Paradise’s survival stirred within him. He simply, in tonight’s bustling crowd, came to understand Anfei.
Yu Feichen walked over and picked up the towel to dry Anfei’s hair. Anfei let him.
The slightly wavy golden hair dried, and the warmth of the lamplight brought its beautiful luster flowing back. Outside, the crowd dispersed; the streets and alleys settled into silence.
In the stillness, Anfei suddenly spoke.
“For many years, my territory and my people were almost the only meaning of my existence.”
Yu Feichen knew.
He thought: Anfei’s next words would be — Tonight, seeing them like this, I am glad.
But instead, Anfei tilted his head slightly to one side, a quiet smile in his eyes.
“That you were willing to come and watch over them with me — I’m very… glad. Thank you.”
A night wind suddenly blew the window open. The night air rushed in — cool, tranquil, clean. It lifted Anfei’s hair too, sending strands of it drifting against Yu Feichen’s clothes, close then gone.
The impulse that had surfaced once in the corner of the alleyway swept through Yu Feichen’s chest again — stronger this time.
Anfei was pulled from behind into an embrace.
Anfei went still for a moment, his fingers resting on Yu Feichen’s forearm, instinctively starting to push away. But when he pushed, he felt how tightly he was being held, and understood: if he pushed free, it would cause him pain.
He couldn’t bear that.
And in that instant, held within an embrace after ten thousand years of a cold and empty temple — something long dead stirred once in his chest.
As though the weight of eternity had finally settled, and he was permitted, just for a moment, to be an ordinary mortal.
But that small push had been noticed. Yu Feichen lowered his head, golden hair brushing his face, strand by strand, catching at something invisible.
Lips touched intermittently against the slender side of Anfei’s neck. There was no gland there now, yet the urge to find a place and bite down at the nape felt almost instinctive to Yu Feichen.
But Anfei neither struggled nor continued to push him away — and so what had begun as something coercive and threatening became instead a long, unhurried, tender kiss.
Yu Feichen released him and found that Anfei had simply leaned quietly against him, the side of his neck flushed, his lashes damp. There were moments when the chief god was so cold and distant it made one want to shatter him — but right now it was the opposite. Yu Feichen only wanted to hold him again. Whatever Anfei wanted, he could have it.
He turned Anfei to face him. Anfei was silent and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Yu Feichen lifted the young man’s delicate chin, making him look up — but still, those lashes remained lowered.
The teardrop mole flickered in and out of sight. Yu Feichen suddenly understood what Anfei meant.
He leaned in. Anfei didn’t move.
Lashes curling slightly upward — the same gentle arc as the waves in his hair — one of this person’s instruments of enchantment.
Faster than reason, something in his chest moved him. Yu Feichen bent down and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Anfei’s eye.
Anfei’s lashes trembled faintly. He still said nothing — only his fingers quietly caught the edge of Yu Feichen’s sleeve.
What to do next, Yu Feichen didn’t know; he only wanted to be closer to Anfei. Instinct guided him, clumsy and unhurried, from the corner of his eye along to the corner of his mouth — and when he finally brushed that soft warmth, he knew at last what he truly wanted to do.
He pressed in and kissed Anfei properly.
A light, exploratory touch of the tongue; the angle of the lifted chin never quite felt right; they were still not close enough — and in the end, Yu Feichen simply wrapped both arms around Anfei entirely.
The young man’s body was warm and supple — so slender, so slight, the kind of frame one could gather up without effort.
Yu Feichen listened to the impulse inside him. He released Anfei — then scooped him up by the waist.
In the Eternal Day, in the territory under his absolute dominion, no one had ever dared to lift him like this. Anfei regarded with careful deliberation the direction Yu Feichen was carrying him. And when he was set down on the bed, that careful look finally shifted into one that said: so this is the kind of person you are.
Yu Feichen looked down at him from above, like a wolf in the night eyeing a live rabbit.
Anfei expressionlessly pointed at himself.
“Do you know how old this body is?”
“Of age,” said Yu Feichen.
He thought for a moment, then added: “Sather looks about the same as you do now, and he’s already asked me out a second time.”
“Sather?” Anfei’s brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t… have dealings with him.”
His next words were going to be: be careful not to get entangled with someone like the Commandments. But Yu Feichen raised an eyebrow — something almost like amusement in his expression — and leaned down to kiss his lips again. The words he’d meant to say dissolved halfway back down his throat, turning into a soft, ambiguous sound.
This time Yu Feichen kissed him deeply. Anfei couldn’t catch his breath; he had no choice but to wrap his arms around Yu Feichen’s shoulders, his legs bending uselessly beneath him, searching for somewhere to brace against.
The vines could bear witness — Yu Feichen had never, from the very start, intended to put Anfei through any of this.
But the instant that warm, pliant body curled against him, every memory tied to the Eternal Sleep Flower came rushing brilliantly to the surface of his mind.