Expressing everything out loud was smoother than imagined.
The past spanned a long time, and it took Shang Can a great deal of time to slowly finish saying everything. During this process, Yun Duan didn’t appear very calm. Shang Can had to grasp Yun Duan’s tightly clenched hands repeatedly, gently reassuring her to ease her grip to avoid hurting herself.
“… I suppose that’s about it.” After finishing a long speech, Shang Can exhaled a deep breath and said, “Although it wasn’t my intention, I have indeed been looking at you from a distance these past two years. To put it another way, even if I had the ability to contact you back then, I likely… wouldn’t have done so.”
The hand she was holding grew stiff again, and Shang Can squeezed it tightly, leaning forward slightly, her gaze gentle and apologetic. What came out of her mouth, however, was completely resolute: “Yun Duan, I know that what I did was far from clever and that you have suffered a lot because of me. I haven’t done anything well; everything I’ve done is just for my own satisfaction.”
Shang Can looked straight into Yun Duan’s tear-filled eyes and quietly said, “… But even if I were to start over, I probably wouldn’t change my approach.”
“If you ask whether there is a better way than mine in this world, I know the answer is certainly yes. I just couldn’t find it. Back then, my body couldn’t last much longer, and I was unwilling to take even the slightest risk that might exist. I’m just that cowardly.”
As she spoke, she forced a smile, self-deprecatingly adding, “It’s somewhat laughable; I’ve lived for just over twenty years in this life, and it seems I can’t change this nature of mine.”
“You can hate me; you should hate me. I know, and I accept it all.” Her throat felt dry; perhaps she had said too much today. Shang Can bit her lip, slowly and calmly continued, “You can do whatever you want with me. Lock me up, confine me, it’s all fine.”
“What I’ve always sought is just one thing: I want you to live well.”
Saying this, Shang Can sat back down, gently patting the back of Yun Duan’s hand as if a burden had been lifted. “Nothing else matters; whatever happens is fine.”
“…” Yun Duan’s gaze fell vacantly in the corner. After a long time, she finally opened her lips, her voice somewhat hoarse, “What if I want to die together with you?”
Shang Can paused, quietly holding her delicate wrist in her palm, and softly yet firmly replied, “Even if you want to die together with me.”
Sure enough, the person in front of her immediately tried to pull her hand back, but Shang Can held on firmly. Yun Duan had no choice but to lean in and grip Shang Can’s collar, wrinkling the garment that she had just smoothed out that morning: “You—”
Shang Can braced herself for a harsh reprimand, but Yun Duan only started to speak and then fell silent. Those deep eyes, as dark as jade, stubbornly stared at her, mist lingering in them for a long while before finally spilling over, falling onto Shang Can like a burning sunset.
How could she bear to see her cry? Shang Can panickedly raised her hand to wipe the tears, using her fingertips to dab at them, feeling her heart twist painfully, yet she was at a loss. Even though she knew why Yun Duan was crying, Shang Can couldn’t find the comforting words to soothe her. The normally eloquent one was now at a loss for words, repeatedly mumbling, “… Don’t cry, don’t cry. It hurts your eyes.”
Why did people have so many tears?
The question that once surfaced by the banks of the Wangchuan River reemerged in Yun Duan’s heart, yet even now it remained unanswered. She would always cry for this person, no matter where she was, no matter whether they met again; she would inevitably shed tears over every one of this person’s actions, as if it were a destined calamity.
Yun Duan felt she should be angry, at least she ought to be. Shang Can had changed quite a bit since they first met, yet deep down, she hadn’t changed at all. Once she made up her mind about something, she pursued it wholeheartedly, keeping things bottled up inside, deciding things related to her unilaterally, and being unyielding. It was truly infuriating.
… So infuriating.
But what could she do?
The beating in her chest was Shang Can’s entire life being handed over, emotions intertwined and brewing, muffled and echoing with no response, filling her with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness and a gradually swelling desire.
She felt joy from being watched, warmth from being touched. She had unknowingly given her whole heart away; what could she do with this person?
The calamity was to lose strength. Yun Duan felt powerless.
Yet, the usually decisive person now seemed a bit foolish, treating Yun Duan’s silence as a calm before the execution. When Shang Can spoke, her voice was heavy, but there was a forced sense of relief in her tone: “… Though it’s come to this, I still want to say it once… back when we were still in Qingyu, I should have already told you…”
Clearly unaccustomed to such honesty, Shang Can averted her gaze, her expression slightly dimmed: “I’ve never been a good senior sister. Call me shameless, or say I have ulterior motives; last night I truly couldn’t help but feel happy, I—”
Before she could continue, Yun Duan stood up, and Shang Can, still grasping her collar, was pulled up as well, stumbling slightly as she was led forward, collapsing onto the bed.
The chain on her ankle clinked, stirring up some lingering ambiguous memories. Shang Can instinctively propped herself up, her head darting up in a flurry as she awkwardly embraced Yun Duan, who had silently leaned down.
“… Now that it’s come to this…”
The voice that reached her ears still carried some softness from crying, yet somehow felt like it was tinged with a scorching heat, making Shang Can’s body go numb.
“… Then let me share a little of the past too.”
Yun Duan’s voice was soft, but the hand resting on Shang Can’s shoulder applied a bit more force. As Shang Can lay down under her gentle push, the complex emotions swirling in Yun Duan’s dark pupils became increasingly difficult to decipher as she slowly raised her hand to tug at her collar.
The loosened neckline soon revealed the marks hidden beneath, and Yun Duan was satisfied to see Shang Can’s gaze flicker, struggling to look away yet unable to divert her eyes. She knelt at Shang Can’s waist, taking hold of her hands that had nowhere to go, slowly drawing them away from the neatly tied belt at her waist.
“I often go out at night; you know this.”
The sudden heat engulfed her brain, and Shang Can was left in a daze, listening as Yun Duan continued lightly.
“I was pretending.”
Startled, Shang Can widened her eyes in disbelief, but her hands had already unconsciously brushed against the warm, delicate skin. Hidden memories surged like a tidal wave, overwhelming her breath, leaving her to helplessly watch as Yun Duan leaned in close, whispering near her ear.
“Even if not all of it was fake, at least half of it was.” Yun Duan spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, “Shouldn’t A Can be able to guess why I did this?”
Burning pain pierced her chest as she felt the heat of desire blossom within her. Yun Duan tightly embraced the suddenly tense Shang Can. There was a term for brief, fleeting joy, and it was only today that she understood its meaning. She didn’t want to dwell on the bitter memories; she merely wished to confirm this person’s existence.
Yet the person beneath her moved slightly, and though the force was light, it still carried a meaning of restraint as she gently pushed against Yun Duan’s shoulder. Yun Duan’s heart sank coldly. Before she could decide whether to withdraw, she heard Shang Can anxiously say, “Your body can’t handle this—hasn’t the drug’s effect worn off yet? But I’m still only half-demon… at least take some precautions; this won’t work. You smell too—cough, I’m afraid I—”
“It’s fine.”
Before she could finish, her words were abruptly interrupted. The little self-control Shang Can had painstakingly held onto was instantly reduced to ashes by Yun Duan’s initiative. Instinctively, she turned her head to seek the source of that captivating, fragrant coldness, feeling her lips tremble as they brushed against Yun Duan’s neck while hearing the voice.
“… Even if you were to completely consume me, I still…” Yun Duan’s voice seemed to carry a sigh, or perhaps it was laced with a hint of amusement, “If that were the case, you could never… leave me all alone.”
A day of absurdity.
Ultimately, Shang Can still retained some semblance of rationality, concerned that Yun Duan’s body wouldn’t withstand it, so she withdrew her hand. But after the rain had cleared, the sky outside had completely darkened. Shang Can merely opened the window for a glance outside before quietly closing it.
…Clearly, when the two of them were sitting and talking, it was still broad daylight. Wasn’t this simply daylight, daylight—
In this regard, the shy and thin-skinned Shangcan really couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Blushing, she poured a glass of water and handed it to Yunduan, who was lazily leaning against the edge of the bed, saying, “…Drink some water. Don’t hurt your throat.”
She liked hearing Yunduan’s voice when doing so, but now she felt guilty. Yunduan glanced lightly at Shangcan, slowly propping herself up to lean over. She didn’t seem to intend to take the cup; instead, she sipped the water directly from Shangcan’s hand. As soon as she leaned over, the sight before Shangcan was so captivating that she didn’t dare to move. Stealing a few glances, she finally couldn’t resist reaching out to brush aside Yunduan’s long, dark hair that was covering her profile.
Yunduan’s eyes flickered, and she quietly moved back, slightly raising her head to ask, “Aren’t you going to drink?”
Her originally dry, thin lips were now moistened by the water, looking unbelievably soft.
Shangcan quickly realized where her gaze had unconsciously wandered, and frightened, she hurriedly looked away, hastily downing the remaining half glass of water. After finishing, she stammered, “…I drank.”
Unable to hold back, Yunduan’s eyes curved in amusement, almost laughing at this timid person. She watched as Shangcan placed the cup back on the table, then looked like a lost deer, hesitating whether to sit back down on the edge of the bed.
If someone else were to hear that the notoriously fierce Shangcan appeared so restrained and timid in this situation, they probably wouldn’t believe it. Yunduan thought to herself and chuckled softly, calling out, “Come here.”
At once, Shangcan obediently walked over and sat down properly at the edge of the bed. Her beautiful eyes, glimmering with light, looked over with a gentle demeanor. The redness at the corners of her eyes, having been stoked by earlier emotions, hadn’t fully returned to normal yet, adding a hint of charm to Shangcan’s already affectionate gaze, making it seem as though she had been the one who had been bullied just moments ago.
Yunduan raised her hand, gently touching the red at the corner of Shangcan’s eye. As her throat rolled a few times, she finally managed to ask, “What is our relationship now?”
“……”
Suddenly feeling flustered under Yunduan’s touch, Shangcan blinked several times, wanting to speak but hesitating. After a few moments, she finally ventured, “…Is it true that we haven’t…?”
Yunduan paused her hand and then tugged at Shangcan’s clothing to pull her closer, frowning slightly as she asked, “Are you hiding something from me?”
“No!” Shangcan quickly shook her head, “I’ve told you everything, but…”
She hesitated, then carefully continued, “…But, Yunduan, you haven’t said how you turned me from a soul into this…”
I knew she would still be concerned about that. Yunduan silently sighed, responding, “It’s nothing major. I used some blood, and it’s nothing compared to the torment when you weren’t by my side.”
Noticing that Shangcan in front of her tensed up, Yunduan looked straight into her worried face and said clearly, “No matter what, do you really think I would let you go?”
“Things like telling you after the fact aren’t something only you would do.” Yunduan’s gaze gradually deepened, her tone soft but firm, “If there’s another time, you know what I would do, Shangcan.”
The threatened person shivered and quickly grasped Yunduan’s hand that was touching her face, nervously murmuring, “…I know, don’t do anything foolish. I won’t leave—only if you’re willing.”
Even now, saying such things to give her a way out, Yunduan truly didn’t understand what was going through her mind. It seemed that when it came to matters concerning her, Shangcan was always timid. Yet, she particularly wanted to break through this shell, forcing this person to stammer and present her heart before her eyes.
So Yunduan repeated, trying hard not to let her voice tremble, “Then what is our relationship now?”
“……”
The clear, moist eyes stared at her for a moment, and the lashes seemed to tremble with anxiety.
“…I really like you.” Shangcan’s voice was unusually serious and nervous as she cautiously conveyed the long-hidden feelings, “If possible, I’ve always wanted to be your… lover, or wife, or partner—whatever it is. I don’t want to just be your senior sister; I want to be with you.”
Shangcan stuttered through her words, finally finishing, but Yunduan remained silent for a long time. Shangcan only saw Yunduan slightly pursing her lips, her stunning face, which she had seen since her teenage years, seemed to hold emotions that were forcibly restrained, as if the moment she moved, it would all spill out. Before her stood a Yunduan, pale yet radiant, translucent and fragile, her deep black eyes seemingly clouded, hiding a current of emotions as they stared at her unblinkingly.
For some reason, her body instinctively moved, and Shangcan trembled as she leaned forward, her voice shaking uncontrollably, “Can I… kiss you?”
No longer just her junior sister—she was her lover, her wife, her partner. Yunduan gently smiled, the curve of her lips resembling the softest flower of spring.
Yunduan raised her hand to embrace Shangcan’s neck and, just before their lips met, softly said, “…I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”
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