RKNDL chapter 31

When Xie Zhinan left Wen Yun’s house, his mind was still in a daze, and his thoughts felt muddled.

It was as if he was walking on soft, fluffy clouds, his legs weak, floating his way out of the neighborhood.

As he walked, he suddenly stopped and unconsciously touched the back of his neck with his hand.

Earlier, when Wen Yun spoke to him, he must have been leaning in.

The warm, damp breath from Wen Yun’s words had brushed against the back of his neck. Even now, that tingling sensation lingered on his skin, refusing to fade.

Drip.

A drop of rain fell, landing precisely on the burning skin of Xie Zhinan’s neck.

Startled, he looked up. In the pitch-black night sky, countless raindrops descended in the dim glow of the streetlights.

…It really was raining.

He wiped the rain off his face with his hand, then lowered his gaze to the object in his other hand.

It was a black umbrella.

For a moment, he was lost in thought.

Five years ago, when they broke up, he left Wen Yun’s home. It rained that day too, but he didn’t have an umbrella.

This subtle change inexplicably made his chest feel tight—an odd kind of tightness, as if something between him and Wen Yun was shifting.

He stood dazed for a long time. It wasn’t until the fine rain had almost soaked through his clothes that he finally opened the umbrella.

The umbrella was wide, shielding him entirely from the rain and enveloping him in a safe and quiet space.

…..

After returning home, Xie Zhinan took a hot shower to dispel the lingering chill from his body and went to bed early.

Even though he was home, it felt like his soul had been left behind in Wen Yun’s house, trapped in the space between Wen Yun’s body and the doorframe.

Dim and ambiguous, the faint scent of coldness surrounded him. The heated breaths against the back of his neck, his back nearly pressed against Wen Yun’s chest—he could even feel the warmth radiating from Wen Yun’s body.

The subtle sound of fabric rustling had been followed by the warmth and dryness of fingertips. His hand had been intimately hooked, his fingers gently entwined.

Lying on his side in bed, staring into space, Xie Zhinan’s right pinky suddenly twitched.

He grasped the finger, which now felt like it no longer belonged to him, thinking he shouldn’t have gotten this close to Wen Yun.

But somehow, his body always betrayed his will without him realizing it.

Or perhaps his will was never that firm to begin with.

Just like… many years ago.

Xie Zhinan had thought it would be difficult to fall asleep that night, but the reality was quite the opposite.

He fell asleep quickly, and even more quickly, he started to dream.

Not about the entryway where his soul seemed to have been trapped earlier, nor the rainy night when they broke up five years ago.

Instead, it was much further back—eleven years ago.

It seemed to be a cold winter when he was in his first year of high school.

He couldn’t remember the day of the week or the date. He only remembered feeling a strange unease that day—not so much unease, but rather a premonition that something was about to happen, leaving him restless.

But he didn’t hide or react much. After school, he packed up his books, slung on his bag, and walked out of the school gate in silence as usual.

And then, he was grabbed by the collar and shoved against the mottled, old wall of an alley, where he was beaten.

The weather that day must have been terrible. In the dim light, Xie Zhinan could barely make out his stepbrother’s face. His stepbrother seemed towering and terrifying, like a monster from a horror film, even his voice chilling.

“Xie Zhinan, your mom and my dad are having a baby.”

“When my mom was still alive, your mom was already messing around with my dad.”

“I warned you all—don’t test my limits again.”

“Are you all this shameless?”

Enduring the pain, Xie Zhinan softly replied, “… Insult me if you want, but don’t insult my mom.”

Suddenly, a sharp, excruciating pain shot through his head!

His stepbrother yanked him up by the hair, forcing him to lift his head and exposing his blood-streaked face.

Even after being beaten like this, Xie Zhinan’s face remained expressionless, numb like a corpse. His eyes weren’t even red, as though he was already used to this.

His stepbrother stared at his face for a long time before suddenly sneering maliciously. “Your mom doesn’t want you anymore.”

The words were like a sharp blade cutting through his façade, striking his most vulnerable spot.

Xie Zhinan’s heart sank, and his stomach churned as though he’d swallowed a piece of cold iron.

He closed his eyes to escape, his lashes trembling, his body quivering. It seemed that if his stepbrother said one more word, he might completely break down.

“You’re so pitiful,” his stepbrother said.

With blood and bruises on his face, Xie Zhinan was silent for a moment. Then, he opened his eyes and spoke softly, almost like a sigh, “You’re no different.”

His stepbrother cursed and was about to throw another punch—

Tap. Tap

Light footsteps stopped at the entrance of the alley. A shadow fell inside, casting a long silhouette.

Both of them turned their heads and saw a clean, indifferent figure of a young boy.

Perhaps out of courtesy to a classmate, Wen Yun, who was passing by, stepped in to rescue Xie Zhinan and even brought him back to his rented apartment near the school.

Xie Zhinan was placed in the living room. Wen Yun told him to sit on the sofa, but Xie Zhinan didn’t.

He stood there awkwardly, like a dirty, frail stray cat suddenly brought into a warm, clean home. Afraid of soiling the place, he shrank into himself, trying to minimize his presence.

Xie Zhinan hated being a burden to others.

He shouldn’t have come here today, but…

But it had been so long since anyone had cared about him.

So, when Wen Yun crouched in front of him and asked, “Are you okay?” Xie Zhinan didn’t know what came over him. He weakly shook his head.

He had no strength left to pretend. He wasn’t okay—not at all.

Wen Yun asked him again if he could go to the hospital on his own.

Xie Zhinan shook his head once more.

Wen Yun looked at him without any expression. His eyes resembled lifeless glass beads. After being stared at like that for two seconds, Xie Zhinan felt a chill run through him, realizing just how pathetic he must look.

How could someone like Wen Yun possibly want to associate with him?

Xie Zhinan moved his lips, ready to say he would leave on his own, but before he could speak, Wen Yun said, “Come with me.”

His mind resisted, but his body obeyed. Limping slightly, Xie Zhinan slowly followed Wen Yun.

That’s how he ended up at this apartment complex, in Wen Yun’s room.

Wen Yun entered the room and came back with antiseptic and ointment. Without saying much, he handed them to Xie Zhinan.

“No need to return them,” he said coolly.

Xie Zhinan was a little intimidated by his aloofness. Rubbing his nose, he murmured, “…Thank you.”

“Mm.”

There was nothing else to say. Xie Zhinan knew he should leave, but for some reason, he stood there with his head down, unmoving.

Don’t do this. Don’t be a burden. People will hate you.

About to say goodbye, Xie Zhinan suddenly heard Wen Yun ask, “Does he hit you often?”

He froze and looked up at Wen Yun.

Wen Yun’s gaze was calm, sweeping over the injury on his lip before meeting his eyes. “You seem used to enduring it. Does he hit you a lot?”

“…No,” Xie Zhinan said quietly. “This is the first time. He wasn’t in a good mood today.”

“Don’t make excuses for those who hurt you,” Wen Yun said.

Xie Zhinan nodded obediently and replied, “Okay. He’s really awful.”

Wen Yun: “…”

Wen Yun thought his classmate seemed a little slow, not particularly sharp. After a moment of silence, he said, “It’s better not to endure being bullied. I can help you find ways to deal with it.”

Xie Zhinan was stunned.

In that moment, he remembered the first time his stepbrother bullied him years ago.

His books had been torn apart.

Panicking, he went home and, in the vast, cold house, sneaked into his mother’s room after his stepfather left and his stepbrother fell asleep. Tugging at his mother’s sleeve, he told her he had been bullied.

His mother looked at him with a mix of helplessness and guilt and said, “Nan Nan, your uncle values his child a lot right now. We can’t trouble him. I’ll give you money to replace what’s missing. Just endure it for now, okay?”

Xie Zhinan had always been obedient and understanding. He knew he shouldn’t trouble his mother, but his throat felt like it was blocked with stones, aching so much he couldn’t say “okay.”

His mother frowned slightly, looking stern. “Nan Nan, be good. Don’t be so sensitive.”

Plop.

A drop of moisture fell onto Wen Yun’s hand. He paused and slowly looked up.

Xie Zhinan was crying.

It was the first time Wen Yun had seen someone cry like this—silent and soundless, yet tears streamed continuously from his eyes. Each drop was round and hot, falling one after another.

Wen Yun frowned slightly, seeming a bit at a loss. Not good at handling emotions, he watched Xie Zhinan cry for a while before asking, “Does the wound hurt a lot?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Xie Zhinan frantically wiped his face, afraid his tears would disgust others. His face turned red from the rubbing as he stammered, “I’m not in pain. Thank you, thank you…”

It was just… the first time someone had told him that enduring wasn’t right, that being bullied deserved help.

Repressed emotions seemed to have finally found an outlet, and once they started to pour out, they couldn’t stop.

Wen Yun watched him, his frown deepening.

Perhaps he was annoyed.

Xie Zhinan felt that his crying must be unsightly and troublesome for others. Bowing quickly, he thanked Wen Yun and fled.

Any kindness shown to him, he remembered vividly.

That gratitude, tucked away in his heart, had unknowingly transformed into affection.

Even after so many years, it hadn’t changed.

 

 

 

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[Author’s Note]

There was a reason Wen Yun saved Xie Zhinan back then, it wasn’t just to force the plot development.

There will be some explanations later.

The flashbacks won’t be excessive. They will only appear when necessary for providing information, and I’ll try to minimize their impact on the story. 

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