Encountering a Snake - Chapter 4

v3c4

 

Fingers rubbed against the red mole as Liu Yan lowered his head to watch, observing those beautiful, slender fingers caressing him gently. Liu Yan liked this intimacy, so he watched even more intently, staring at how he touched his red mole, then suddenly curled his knuckles and stopped caressing—instead, he began digging.

 

The fingernails pierced into flesh, and Liu Yan frowned. But he remembered what Yi Mo had said earlier, so he sat there stiffly, not dodging. Blood began to seep through Yi Mo’s fingers, trickling into his palm and along his lifeline, dripping onto Liu Yan’s lower abdomen and mixing with the blood flowing down from above, accumulating more and more.

 

The smell of blood grew stronger between them. Yi Mo focused on digging at the red mole, while Liu Yan frowned, his face contorted in pain, yet he endured. Cold sweat poured down like rain.

 

When the mole was half-removed, blood suddenly spurted from the wound, warm and fresh, splashing onto Yi Mo’s face. Yi Mo abruptly stopped, raising his eyes to see the pale face of the boy before him.

 

Yi Mo asked, “Does it hurt?”

 

Perhaps due to the pain, Liu Yan’s reaction was much faster than before. “It doesn’t hurt,” he replied. But even as he said it didn’t hurt, his eyes brimmed with tears, as if he might cry any second. Yet, he still tried to please him, asking, “Yi Mo, are you comfortable now?”

 

Yi Mo remained silent. He quietly performed a spell, healing the wound and restoring the half-removed red mole to its original state. The flow of blood ceased abruptly, leaving Liu Yan shivering.

 

Yi Mo held him, wiping away the blood as he murmured with a tone of regret, “I promised not to bully you.” Liu Yan couldn’t respond, so he simply listened as Yi Mo continued, “I promised you that even if you were unkind to me, I wouldn’t bully you.”

 

Liu Yan wanted to say, “I’ll be good to you,” but because of his slow mind, he couldn’t form the words.

 

Yi Mo said, “In the last life, I wasn’t good to you, and you didn’t like me.” He added, “I know you’re a fool in this life…”

 

His bloodstained hands cupped the boy’s face as Yi Mo gazed at him and softly said, “But I didn’t know you’d become so foolish that you couldn’t even dislike me.”

 

Just like Shen Qingxuan, who gave everything for him in the past. Ji Jiu, who once resisted him fiercely, was no more. The brilliance in their eyes had vanished completely.

 

No elegance, no conviction, no determination or resolve.

 

And yet, this was Shen Qingxuan’s reincarnation.

 

Yi Mo recalled Ji Jiu from the previous life, and the words he had spoken echoed clearly in his mind, as if it were only yesterday, as if it were still lingering in his ears. Ji Jiu had said:

 

—I will imprison you and treat you well day and night. Pamper you, spoil you, yield to you in everything, but you must stay by my side.

 

—I’ll make your family believe you’re dead, erasing your existence from this world.

 

—In the end, I’ll leave you with nowhere to go, severing all your hopes, so you can only rely on me, trust me. Be my Shen Qingxuan.

 

—I don’t even need to tell you there once was a Shen Qingxuan.

 

—But you can only be my Shen Qingxuan. There is no other path for you.

 

But… Ji Jiu hadn’t foreseen that his next life would become a fool. Someone who struggled to speak, moved slowly, and stared blankly. The wisdom and talents of two lifetimes were buried in idiocy—no ruthlessness, no cunning, no schemes, no ruthlessness—just this fool. Yi Mo wondered, is this really Shen Qingxuan?

 

The Shen Qingxuan who gave everything with passion, the Shen Qingxuan who resisted but ultimately yielded. Both lifetimes had eyes filled with brilliance, glowing with determination, whether crazed and intense or firm. He always knew what he wanted, stubborn and unyielding, yet so beautiful it was impossible to look away.

 

Even in the last life, when met with resistance and hatred, those eyes still shone brightly, dazzlingly. Yi Mo had wanted that brilliance to burn for him, always to burn for him. But now, it was dull and lifeless.

 

Yi Mo asked, “Fool, where did your soul and spirit go?” Asking a question he knew had no answer, Yi Mo seemed foolish himself as he said, “Shall we go find them?”

 

Liu Yan had no voice in the matter. More like Yi Mo’s puppet than a person, Liu Yan with the name Liu Yan simply echoed him. Yi Mo said yes, so he said yes. Yi Mo said let’s look, so he said let’s look. It was evident Yi Mo had sought him out despite knowing he was a fool, only to scorn him after finding him. By this logic, Yi Mo wasn’t content either.

 

Fortunately, Liu Yan was too foolish to understand his thoughts. Just being by Yi Mo’s side made him happy. Yet, he was so foolish that Yi Mo failed to see he had his own persistence. Or maybe Yi Mo simply refused to look.

 

After some quick tidying, Yi Mo took Liu Yan’s hand and left the small courtyard in the mountains.

 

On the bustling streets of the human world, Liu Yan was quiet, dressed in a moon-white robe. His thin yet growing body appeared slender and elegant. Without looking into his eyes, he seemed no different from an ordinary person. At first glance, he looked like a young master from a wealthy family. But throughout the journey, Liu Yan always held Yi Mo’s hand. Fingers intertwined, clasping tightly, as if to say: Liu Yan liked Yi Mo.

 

But Yi Mo didn’t value such affection.

 

Having grown used to fiery love and hate, Yi Mo didn’t realize that such simple affection was still love.

 

So, even though it was within reach, he still took Liu Yan everywhere to search.

 

And Liu Yan, foolish as he was, followed him everywhere. He didn’t know what Yi Mo was searching for; he only knew that it was important to Yi Mo. As long as he could stay by Yi Mo’s side, Liu Yan felt that anywhere was fine.

 

Time flew like a fleeting horse, and in the blink of an eye, Liu Yan had followed Yi Mo in his search among mortals for five years. Liu Yan was now sixteen.

 

At sixteen, Liu Yan spoke much more fluently. Though still foolish, he wasn’t as slow as before. Walking through a town, Liu Yan got hungry, and Yi Mo bought him a bun. Yi Mo himself no longer needed mortal sustenance, so he rarely ate. Liu Yan held the bun, eating as he walked. After eating half, he offered the rest to Yi Mo, saying, “Yi Mo, eat.”

 

Yi Mo shook his head.

 

Liu Yan looked at the half-steaming bun in his hand, its juicy filling glistening with oil. Unable to resist, he said again, “It’s good. Yi Mo, eat.”

 

Yi Mo asked, “Are you full?”

 

Liu Yan nodded and said, “I’m full.”

 

So Yi Mo took the half-eaten bun and, under Liu Yan’s gaze, threw it into the corner. The pork and cabbage filling, glistening with oil, spilled onto the ground, and the white bun was covered in dirt, becoming trash. Liu Yan glanced at it briefly, then quickly looked away, continuing to follow Yi Mo.

 

By the time they reached a desolate wilderness, it was already evening. Soon after, Liu Yan said he was hungry again. Yi Mo frowned, “Didn’t you just eat a bun? Hungry again?”

 

Liu Yan grinned foolishly and said he was hungry. When he smiled, he finally resembled Shen Qingxuan, but he lacked much of the charm. He had none of the hidden subtleties behind the flamboyance. It was an honest, foolish grin.

 

Yi Mo cast a spell, summoning dishes from a distant county’s restaurant with his magic.

 

As Liu Yan ate, he still insisted Yi Mo eat. In the end, the leftover dishes ended up like the bun, turned into trash by Yi Mo and discarded far away. Liu Yan said nothing. Through the firelight, he stared at Yi Mo, unblinking. He had grown accustomed to this action, as if from the beginning of his life, he had been gazing up at Yi Mo. Even if all his efforts were in vain, he still gazed at him.

 

Yet before going to sleep, he still had to say, “Yi Mo, I like you.”

 

Every night before bed, he would say this, foolishly obsessed with the idea that Yi Mo needed his affection. He didn’t know if, after saying it every day, Yi Mo would one day say he liked him too.

 

But for now, Yi Mo only replied, “Fool, go to sleep.”

 

Holding the frail body in his arms, Yi Mo closed his eyes and decided to stop searching. Where could one find a missing soul in the vast sea of people? Perhaps it had already dissipated. Maybe he truly would have to spend decades with a fool like this.

 

Feeling irritated, Yi Mo held Liu Yan, who nestled contentedly in his embrace, closing his eyes with satisfaction. Just this embrace was enough to make Liu Yan feel fulfilled.

 

Because of his foul mood, Liu Yan was scolded the next morning upon waking. He had drooled again in his sleep, leaving stains everywhere—a habit he had yet to break despite being sixteen years old.

 

Yi Mo, almost in disgust, pushed him aside, saying, “Go wash your face.” But after pushing him, he felt a twinge of regret and pulled Liu Yan back to wash him clean himself.

 

Liu Yan continued to smile as if he didn’t mind at all.

 

Seeing his expression, Yi Mo couldn’t hold back anymore and said, “How are you anything like Shen Qingxuan?”

 

Liu Yan had heard that name many times before, along with Ji Jiu. Yi Mo would often talk about them, mentioning the previous life and the life before that. Liu Yan had tried to think clearly about who he was in his past lives, but the more he thought about it, the more confused he became. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand, nor could he fully grasp what Yi Mo was saying.

 

Feeling frustrated, he sat down on the ground and reached his own conclusion: “Yi Mo doesn’t like fools.”

 

Yi Mo replied, “That’s right, I hate fools.”

 

Liu Yan didn’t cry. He simply widened his eyes and looked at him, saying, “But I like you.”

 

Yi Mo had no response. He didn’t care to argue with a fool about this. What would be the point of such an argument? Shen Qingxuan had become a fool after losing a part of his soul, and fools would say they liked anyone who treated them well. Yi Mo was no longer unique.

 

Today, however, the fool was unusually stubborn. Even when Yi Mo didn’t respond, Liu Yan clung to him and insisted, “Yi Mo, I like you.”

 

But Yi Mo ignored him.

 

Liu Yan leaped onto Yi Mo’s back as he always did, clinging to him, and whispered in his ear over and over, “Yi Mo, I like you.”

 

“Yi Mo, I like you.”

 

“Yi Mo, I like you.”

 

“Yi Mo, I like you.”

 

He repeated it incessantly until Yi Mo, unable to bear it any longer, flung him off his back, sending him rolling across the ground.

 

Yi Mo said, “What right does a fool have to talk about liking someone?”

 

Liu Yan fell silent. In his years of following Yi Mo in the human world, he had learned to distinguish between kind words and harsh words, between acceptance and rejection.

 

Liu Yan remained motionless on the ground until Yi Mo, losing patience, walked over. Only then did he raise his face and ask, “What would it take for you to believe that I like you?”

 

Looking at the face that so resembled Shen Qingxuan’s, Yi Mo felt a pang of guilt and patted his head. “Stop fooling around. Let’s go back—it’s time to return to the mountain.”

 

Liu Yan, as always, obeyed him. He stood up at Yi Mo’s words and walked beside him.

 

After a while, Liu Yan said, “I’m not Shen Qingxuan.”

 

Yi Mo stopped in his tracks.

 

“I’m not Ji Jiu, either,” Liu Yan continued. “I’m just a fool.” With that, he tugged at his robes, exposing his chest, and pointed to the vermillion mole there. He earnestly asked, “Without this, would I still just be a fool?”

 

Liu Yan asked, “Would Yi Mo stop hating me for being so foolish?”

 

Yi Mo didn’t answer. After a long time, he stared at the red mark on Liu Yan’s chest and said, “If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t care about you at all.”

 

Because Liu Yan was a fool, Yi Mo spoke without restraint, no longer concealing anything.

 

And because this fool had taken the place of the one in his heart, he deserved to be hurt.

 

Liu Yan lowered his head and silently followed Yi Mo back to the small courtyard atop the mountain.

 

That evening, when it was time for Liu Yan’s bath, Yi Mo called out to him, but there was no response, nor did anyone come running.

 

Yi Mo immediately felt that something was wrong. Using a spell to sense his surroundings, he found that Liu Yan was nowhere within two miles.

 

Expanding his search, Yi Mo finally located him.

 

Under the night sky, Yi Mo rushed to a stream with gurgling water and found Liu Yan curled up on the grass. He picked him up and brought him back to the brightly lit room. There, he pried apart Liu Yan’s hands, which were struggling to hide something, and saw his exposed chest, bloodied and raw.

 

The vermillion mole Yi Mo had failed to remove five years ago had finally been gouged out by Liu Yan himself.

 

Yi Mo stared at the bloody wound, its grotesque shape seared into his mind, and felt his thoughts tangle into a chaotic mess.

 

Liu Yan was terrified of Yi Mo’s expression. He was glaring at the wound on Liu Yan’s chest as if ready to devour him. Trembling, Liu Yan covered the wound and scrambled away, rolling off the table and into a corner.

 

Yi Mo took a deep breath and said hoarsely, “Don’t be afraid. Come here—I’ll heal you.”

 

Liu Yan shrank further into the corner, like a frightened animal. He looked at Yi Mo for a long time before trembling and saying, “I’m dirty—I have blood on me.” He also had grass and mud stuck to him from rolling on the ground in pain. Now, he was a filthy mess, like a stray dog.

 

Yi Mo, who was always so clean, even hated the sight of Liu Yan’s drool. Liu Yan shrank further away.

 

Yi Mo approached him, his expression constantly shifting between anger, sorrow, and something else that Liu Yan couldn’t discern. Finally, Yi Mo crouched down, looked into his dirt-streaked face, and said:

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

It was the first time in Yi Mo’s life that he had ever apologized—to Shen Qingxuan or to Ji Jiu in his second life.

 

Liu Yan reached out with trembling hands and touched Yi Mo’s face, panicking as he said, “It doesn’t hurt—I’m not in pain—don’t cry.” Even as he said this, tears streamed down his own face.

 

Only then did Yi Mo realize that he had started to cry.

 

tl – why am i doing this to myself