Jun Xuanheng was dead.
His chest was now a hollow cavity; his heart had been removed, extracted with whole and clinical precision.
Night Languor was well-acquainted with this technique. With a practiced ease, he squeezed the still-pulsing, vivid organ until it burst.
His face was splattered with blood, making him look like a terrifying specter, yet he smiled at Night Owl with utmost tenderness. "Gui Mao, you never have to protect anyone else again. Escape with me."
He reached out to take Night Owl’s hand, but his only response was a resounding slap. Night Owl had put his entire strength into the blow; hot, metallic-tasting blood immediately seeped from Night Languor’s mouth, nose, and ears.
Night Languor did not hesitate. Acting as if he couldn't see Night Owl’s hostility, he leaned down again. "Stop messing around. We have to go back first..."
"Get away from me." Night Owl was consumed by a towering rage, his voice trembling and suppressed. His mind could not process the reality of what had happened, nor could he find the words to curse him. He only wanted to be as far away from this monster as possible; he felt that even being touched by him made him utterly filthy.
The Second Young Master had spent months of agonizing patience trying to force the truth of Jun Xuanheng’s origins out of him. Now that Night Languor had ruined everything, he was equally incensed. The surrounding shadow guards no longer held back, every strike aimed to kill. Yet Night Owl showed no intention of leaving. As Night Languor approached, he raised his palm to strike again.
Night Languor’s speed was leagues beyond Night Owl’s. However, he stood there obediently and took the second slap before finally striking Night Owl’s neck to knock him unconscious and hoisting him onto his shoulder.
***
Night Owl did not know how Night Languor had managed to carry his senseless body out of the Second Young Master’s inescapable dragnet.
When he finally came to, Night Languor was using a small dagger under the moonlight to carve the mangled flesh from his own shoulder. He was covered in blood. His black night-suit had fused with his wounds as the blood scabbed over; it could not be peeled off, so it had to be sliced away bit by bit along with his skin. There wasn't a single patch of intact skin on his body, and the bone showed through ghastly and white at his collarbone, wrists, and knees.
Night Owl shifted slightly. His own shoulder wound had been properly dressed and treated, and his clothes had even been changed. Though the garments were new, they were put on haphazardly and were covered in bloody handprints.
Hearing the movement, Night Languor turned his deathly pale, bloodless face toward him. He forced a weak smile and said hoarsely, "Gui Mao, don't be afraid. It’s alright now."
Night Owl felt a surge of suffocating breath trapped in his chest with nowhere to go. He smashed his fist against the jagged rocks, his knuckles aching from the force.
He didn't want to say a single word to Night Languor. He struggled to his feet and turned his back, walking away.
Night Languor didn't know where he was going, nor did he ask. For so many years, he had been accustomed to Night Owl walking in front while he followed silently behind. Night Languor hurriedly pulled the dagger from his shoulder, not even pausing to bandage the wound, and scrambled up to follow him with staggering steps. He stumbled, moving extremely slowly. Night Owl heard him fall to the ground several times only to crawl back up, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself not to look back.
Even though Night Languor struggled so much, Night Owl walked for half the night without looking back. Perhaps because both were so badly injured, he was unable to shake him off.
Night Owl suddenly stopped. Thinking Night Owl was waiting for him, Night Languor hurried his pace with a heart full of joy.
"Just how long do you plan on following me?" Night Owl’s voice was cold. "I don't want to see you. I told you to get lost. Do you not understand human speech?"
Night Languor looked hurt. He gave a soft, obedient reply and vanished in a flash.
He had simply returned to the shadows, just as he always did.
Night Languor was too severely injured; his breathing was heavy and wheezing, making it impossible for him to hide seamlessly in the night. The thick scent of blood made Night Owl feel nauseous, and those breaths suppressed with agony only made him more distraught.
Night Owl didn't know where he should go, or why he was even alive. He wandered aimlessly through the mountains for several days until the arrival of winter’s heaviest rain. He leaned against a green crag to take shelter, his mind a complete blank. Amidst the howling wind and torrential rain, the figure hidden in the branches above was soaked through. By midnight, he finally lost his hold and tumbled to the ground.
The moment that person appeared in his sight, Night Owl’s mind exploded. Unable to endure it any longer, he seized the man by the collar and slammed him against the stone, hissing with hatred, "I’ve already shown the utmost mercy by not killing you. How do you still have the nerve to follow me? What exactly do you want from me?!"
Night Languor’s wounds had never been treated. Large patches of ulcerated flesh had begun to give off the stench of decay. Having spent these days using every ounce of his spirit to track Night Owl without food or water—his stomach containing nothing but leaves and wild fruit—he had been tortured into a state that was barely human.
"I know that this time... I did wrong..." Night Languor said softly. "But... I don't regret it."
Night Owl gritted his teeth and stared at him, his eyes looking as though they might bleed.
Night Languor noticed that the hem of Night Owl’s robe was exposed, dampened by a small patch of rain. He reached out to lift it and tuck it back under the crag where the rain couldn't reach, pleading hoarsely, "If you hate me... then just hate me... but don't torture yourself... alright?"
Night Owl knew he wouldn't live much longer.
To say his heart didn't ache would be a lie.
He was the person who loved Night Languor most in the world, and now, Night Languor had lost even him.
No one knew that Night Owl wanted to hold him so badly he was going crazy.
Morality, loyalty, faith, principles—he wished they would all go to hell. But guilt, self-reproach, and remorse filled his chest, searing every nerve. He didn't even know who to hate, or what to hate.
*Should I hate you for loving me? Hate you for only caring about me? Should I hate myself for saving the life of a wolf like you back then, or hate the affection I’ve felt for you for over a decade?*
Private feelings were forbidden among shadow guards. He had always known there was a reason for that rule.
It was he who had relied on his master’s extreme kindness, and with his own hands, he had sent the best master in the world to his doom.
He would have preferred that the mishap never happened that day. To have died honorably at the hands of the Second Young Master and been buried in the same place as Night Languor would not have been a bad fate.
Night Owl had never realized that living could be such a painful thing.
His lover lay fragile and cold in the night rain, his life fading like a candle in the wind, yet his eyes still reflected only Night Owl. Feeling the man’s body temperature steadily dropping, Night Owl finally succumbed to panic. As if possessed, he couldn't stop himself from pulling him into an embrace.
Night Owl buried his face in the crook of the other’s neck, murmuring with a sob, "I only hate... why wasn't it me who went mad?"
Night Languor had never imagined he would have the chance to be held by him again in this life. Overwhelmed by the unexpected favor, a spark of light returned to his dull, lifeless eyes. He asked blankly, "Gui Mao... you... you forgive me?"
"How could I possibly forgive you? How could I possibly forgive myself for causing the Master’s death? After how the Master treated you all these days, how could you bring yourself to do it? Do you... do you have no heart at all?"
Night Languor looked up at him, without a single trace of guilt in his eyes.
Night Owl watched him for a long time, feeling the inside of his chest freeze into ice.
He drew a dagger from Night Languor’s waist and pressed it against Night Languor’s chest.
Night Owl closed his eyes, his voice trembling. "...We... we will return this life to the Master. Then we won't owe him anything. Then... I can forgive you, and let myself go."
"Really?" Hearing this, Night Languor’s heart filled with joy again. The short blade had already pierced his chest. He raised his hand to pinch the blade, slicing through his own muscle to forcibly move it half an inch to the right. "It was a bit off. Here is the right spot."
He was more familiar with the position of the heart than anyone. His own was no exception.
Night Owl slowly sank the dagger in. He heard Night Languor’s increasingly faint voice ask, "Isn't this a good thing, Gui Mao... why... why are you crying...?"
Night Owl didn't answer, but leaned down and kissed him tenderly. Night Languor’s eyes brightened further. He curled his lips into a slight smile and whispered in Night Owl’s ear, "This is wonderful... I thought... you would never have me in your heart again..."
"How could that be?" Night Owl gently took his hand and placed it over his own chest. "This entire heart has always been yours. If you don't believe me... why don't you dig it out and see?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Taking Night Languor’s hand in his own, he guided the finger-blades to plunge into his own chest.
Night Languor’s consciousness was already fading, but his body instinctively and carefully extracted that hot, vivid heart, cradling it firmly in his arms.
This was the only heart in the world that belonged solely to him. No one could ever take it away again.
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
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指刃 | Finger-blade | A small blade attached to the fingers, often used by assassins or shadow guards.
天罗地网 | Inescapable dragnet | Lit. "Heavenly net and earthly grid"; an inescapable trap.
仁至义尽 | Utmost mercy | Lit. "To have fulfilled one's duty and benevolence to the maximum."
