Of Mountains and Rivers 77

For days, Nanshan had refrained from laying even a finger on Chu Huan, feeling like an invisible barrier loomed between them.

Nanshan had been wrestling with his emotions, feeling like a caged animal. If some form of expression didn't surface soon, it would be intolerable.

He leaned in to kiss Chu Huan's lips but sensed a palpable tension in the air.

In a swift motion, Chu Huan's chin lifted slightly, as if attempting to evade, but with nowhere to retreat against the door behind him, he reluctantly acquiesced.

Though Nanshan held him tightly, it felt as though he clutched at sand—each grasp only hastened its slip through his fingers.

Increasingly perplexed, Nanshan stammered, "I'm sorry, I… I'm sorry…"

"Mm," Chu Huan responded nonchalantly, gently pinching Nanshan's chin before lightly returning the kiss. "It's okay."

With that, he withdrew from Nanshan's embrace, casually rolling up his sleeves as if to rid himself of the scent of alcohol. His demeanor remained eerily composed.

Unable to bear the distance any longer, Nanshan enveloped him from behind, pleading, "Can we talk? Chu Huan, please… Don't shut me out like this…"

In the dimly lit room, illuminated only by moonlight filtering through the window, shadows danced across the walls, casting shapes of bows and knives.

Chu Huan's gaze fixated on the shadows, his serene smile gradually fading. After a long pause, he spoke almost in a whisper, "You really believed…"

Nanshan inquired, "Believed what?"

Chu Huan quickly caught himself and swallowed the remaining words.

He didn't want Nanshan to suspect his sanity.

For days, Chu Huan had been unable to shake the feeling that he was still ensnared in the dream-like flames. He longed to return to a carefree existence after surviving the ordeal—perhaps indulging in drunken revelry, engaging in a heated argument with Nanshan, and then deciding whether to part ways or reconcile. But he couldn't.

Chu Huan couldn't convince himself that all this was real and not a figment of his imagination or some illusion imposed upon him.

Night after night, he feigned sleep, stealing glances at Nanshan, but finding no solace in the touch of his lover's hand. If what he saw and heard were illusory, then perhaps what he felt was also unreal.

He had tried tirelessly to reassure himself of his grip on reality, yet found no evidence to support it.

There was nothing in the world that could dispel his lingering doubts. He felt as though his mind remained trapped in endless darkness, isolated in the face of the seed at the end of the world, whether in a crowd or a bustling market, always alone.

Like a weightless soul, unable to tether to the ground no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly, Chu Huan realized that the line between reality and illusion seemed too blurred to distinguish. Perhaps only in death would he find clarity.

With this realization, Chu Huan's vacant gaze sharpened. He resolved not to linger in this limbo of existence any longer.

With that resolve, he reached out and gently placed his hand on Nanshan's, which was clasped tightly over his chest. Raising an eyebrow as if nothing were amiss, he chuckled lightly. "What's this, darling? Why the fervent embrace?"

Nanshan's voice was strained. "Can't we just talk?"

Chu Huan extricated himself from Nanshan's grasp, walked to the edge of the bed, and loosened his collar. "Let's talk seriously then. The Mountain Gate reverts in a few days, doesn't it?"

After a moment of confusion, realization dawned on Nanshan. His face paled, and his posture stiffened involuntarily.

Seemingly oblivious to the tense silence, Chu Huan continued, "Let me be clear. When it reverts, I'm leaving. That so-called life-and-death contract? I won't be bound by it anymore."

"So, are you here to kill me tonight? Or to make love?" Chu Huan tilted his head slightly, baring his neck. "Either way, I'm game."

For what felt like an eternity, Nanshan remained silent, as if struck dumb by lightning. Chu Huan half-expected an outburst of rage, but Nanshan said nothing.

In the dim light, Chu Huan watched as Nanshan retrieved something from the bedside and approached him silently.

Nanshan bent down, gently grasped Chu Huan's shoulder, tilted his chin up, and pressed a warm kiss to his lips, as if seeking entry.

Chu Huan had resolved to accept whatever came his way, be it a blade or tender affection. So, he welcomed Nanshan's advance. Yet, in the next moment, he felt Nanshan pressing something into his mouth.

Chu Huan: "Um…"

He almost reflexively swallowed, but Nanshan intervened just in time, leaving whatever it was on the tip of his tongue.

Only then did a hint of sweetness reach his tongue, and by that point, Nanshan had already withdrawn.

Chu Huan was taken aback. He realized Nanshan had slipped a piece of candy into his mouth—the very one he had brought back from his travels with Whip and Dashan.

"Is it sweet?" Nanshan whispered in his ear.

Chu Huan replied, "… Mmhmm."

Nanshan did not refer to Chu Huan's earlier ramblings. Instead, he murmured, "It tastes a bit milky, doesn't it? But there's something else there."

Still dazed, Chu Huan continued, "Maybe some kind of flavoring? Hmm… you…"

Nanshan retrieved the half-melted candy from Chu Huan's lips.

Initially clumsy, Nanshan's movements now seemed deft, almost practiced. After savoring it for a moment, he remarked to Chu Huan, "I can still feel a hint of stickiness."

Chu Huan, still dazed, replied, "… Maybe it's expired?"

Then, a 'crack' sounded, and a fruity aroma filled the air as Nanshan opened something. Taking a bite himself, he offered the other half to Chu Huan's lips. Chu Huan couldn't help but wonder—was this an apple from Snow White's stepmother?

He took a tentative bite, and suddenly, a burst of sourness overwhelmed his taste buds, leaving him momentarily speechless.

Nanshan chuckled softly, "Sweetness here, sourness there."

He then extended his finger to Chu Huan's lips. "Care to try this one?"

Hesitant, Chu Huan licked it gently. This time, he tasted saltiness and bitterness.

It was tears.

Chu Huan spoke up hurriedly, "You…"

Nanshan covered Chu Huan’s eyes with his palm before resting his head against his chest. "This is bitterness."

Nanshan's heartbeat quickened, and Chu Huan could sense the raw emotion within him.

Amidst the confusion, Chu Huan seemed to grasp something from Nanshan's unspoken words.

Was Nanshan implying… amidst life's myriad flavors—sweetness, sourness, bitterness, and spice—they had both tasted the same essence?

Nanshan's voice trembled slightly as he whispered, "I was wrong. If you won't speak, can you at least listen?"

With his eyes shielded, Chu Huan remained silent in the darkness.

Nanshan pressed on, "Entangled with skeletons underwater, Yuan Ping severed the rope, vanishing into the shadows. It wasn't just because he was a Gatekeeper brother. Can you guess what crossed my mind then?"

Chu Huan, confronted with this forgotten yet indelible memory now spoken by Nanshan, found himself at a loss for words.

Then, in a hushed tone, Nanshan uttered, "At that moment, I wondered… how much pain it would cause you if you knew."

Chu Huan suddenly felt an aversion to hearing more. He struggled against Nanshan's hold but found himself immobilized by an unseen force.

"You didn't ask anything after that, just glanced over as if you understood it all. The look in your eyes made me feel like I couldn't breathe," Nanshan continued. "In that moment, I vowed to stay with you no matter what…"

"Enough!" Chu Huan's growl cut through Nanshan's words.

Ignoring Chu Huan's interruption, Nanshan pressed on, "But I failed that promise. I knew what you intended when you drew the dagger, and then you asked me—"

His words halted abruptly with a muffled groan as Chu Huan bit down on his hand in a desperate attempt to break free.

Unflinching, Nanshan allowed the bite until Chu Huan tasted blood. It was then that Chu Huan realized his behavior mirrored that of a rabid animal, and he released his grip.

"Ouch," Nanshan's voice softened. "When you begged me, it hurt me a hundredfold… No, a thousandfold."

Chu Huan gradually regained his composure.

After a lengthy silence, he inquired, "What does it feel like to be consumed?"

Nanshan replied, "Surrounded by joy, yet consumed by heartache."

Chu Huan questioned further, "Could you see me?"

"Yes," Nanshan lowered his head to kiss Chu Huan's hair. "Not with my eyes, but with all my senses intertwined. I witnessed everything—your kneeling figure atop the mountain, hands stained with blood, the flicker of fire on the staff fading, and Little Green guiding you on your final journey with the dying flame…"

A shiver ran through Chu Huan.

"I witnessed the wavering flames and the encroaching shadows. There was a moment when I even heard the whispers of your heart, almost in despair until I beheld the sacred fire. As it enveloped you, I was filled with desperation, willing to offer myself as fuel for its flames… And by some divine decree, my wish was granted; the flames from your being extended to consume me as well."

As Nanshan spoke, he released Chu Huan's restraints and enveloped him in a tight embrace, whispering, "I've never felt such warmth. At that moment, I felt united with you. Echoes of countless voices surrounded me, all pleading, 'Burn me, burn me.' Bound by the rules, I couldn't turn back, but I could feel the flames spreading, fueled by imagination."

In the darkness, a soft click sounded, and a flicker of light illuminated the room as Nanshan lit the bedside lamp.

Chu Huan's pupils contracted, and he instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes, inadvertently colliding with Nanshan's gaze.

Nanshan sighed, "I've been by your side all this time, and it's no illusion."

Those words struck Chu Huan like a spell breaking. Suddenly, he felt as though he had plummeted from a great height, gravity returning as he landed heavily on the ground, awakening from the dream within the silent world.

"Do you know what else I witnessed?" Nanshan's eyes were tinged with red, yet a smile graced his lips. "I saw the sunset dip into the endless sea, a tender shoot sprouting from a lifeless branch, a befuddled seagull ruffling its feathers, and even a tiny snake slithering out of the ashes… no thicker than a thumb."

Intertwining their fingers, Nanshan pressed their joined hands against Chu Huan's chest. His voice quivered slightly as he said, "I'll never leave you again. Do you believe me?"

Chu Huan remained silent for a long while before shifting the conversation away from Nanshan's question to something related to their return from the Fallen Land. "And the staff? Is it extinguished?"

Nanshan's response was gentle. "Yes, it's extinguished, but there will be others in the future."

With a nod, Chu Huan suddenly felt a weariness wash over him as if he hadn't slept in a lifetime. Leaning his head against Nanshan's chest, he drifted off into a deep slumber. The ring on Nanshan’s hand left a faint imprint on the side of his neck.

The words "just teasing you" didn't accompany him into old age, but the hand that spoke them gave him a new sense of stability.

Chu Huan slept for two full days, oblivious to the passing of time and the reversal of the Mountain Gate.

In his daze, he faintly heard children outside shouting "Bitch King" but he paid it no mind, simply rolling over.

Meanwhile, in the cavern housing a collection of useless guns and bullets, the aged soldiers stirred, their movements slow and groggy as they rubbed their eyes. Some looked around in confusion, others in shock.

As long as they weren't dead, they were still alive.

Before drifting off, Chu Huan had one more question lingering in his mind—what exactly lay within the "sacred fire" contained in the walnut?

But he didn't ask, for he already knew the answer.

Within that walnut lay an entire world.

“…I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space…” – William Shakespeare.