Chapter 91: N. Temporary Respite

Su Hui cried in Ning Yixiao’s arms for a long time.

After drifting for several years, he had almost grown accustomed to the feeling of plummeting from the highest point, accustomed to watching himself get buried alive by despair. He could have remained expressionless, sinking into self-harm within the depths of his depression.

But Ning Yixiao held his hand tightly, offering endless affirmation and love. He had given him a gift born of painstaking effort and repeatedly told him that his existence had meaning. Su Hui’s mind, once flooded with cold, dark vocabulary—filled with thoughts of death—would pause every time he looked down at the bracelet on his wrist, where the tiny light pulsed.

It was like finding a glimmer of life in the darkness.

His inner self was torn in two. One half was self-loathing, trying to push Ning Yixiao away out of love; the other half was struggling to survive, unable to bear the thought of hurting Ning Yixiao. He couldn’t imagine the timeline Ning Yixiao described—he couldn’t accept a world where Ning Yixiao had nothing. Su Hui wanted Ning Yixiao to be happy forever, and for that sake, even trapped in the depths of his depression, he dared not let go of Ning Yixiao’s hand.

Ning Yixiao held him quietly, then heard Su Hui murmur a few short, stuttered words against his shoulder. He tilted his head. “What did you say?”

Su Hui fought hard against his negative emotions and repeated, “I… will not leave you.”

The person most afraid of making promises had finally taken that step.

The simulated voice, extremely similar to Ning Yixiao’s, came from the earpiece:

[Hearing you say that makes me very happy.]

Hearing this unexpected response, Ning Yixiao’s heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand. “I know. I know everything.” He pressed his forehead against Su Hui’s and held his hand. “We won’t be separated. Never again.”

Su Hui nodded with great difficulty.

Seeing Su Hui’s eyes swollen from crying broke Ning Yixiao’s heart, but he was more worried that the unethical media incident would make Su Hui unable to face his own solo exhibition, or lead him to negate his own talent and work. To him, that was self-destruction.

The blue dot on the bracelet increased by one tiny point.

Clearly sensing Su Hui’s state shifting from violent fluctuation toward calmness—entering the full depressive phase—Ning Yixiao tried to converse. “Do you have any strength left? Can you stand up?”

Su Hui’s ability to process language was slow and sluggish. He stared blankly at Ning Yixiao for a long while before bracing himself against the chair to stand, feeling as though his legs were filled with lead. Ning Yixiao hugged him and kissed his hair.

“Want to go for a walk with me?”

Su Hui couldn’t keep up with Ning Yixiao’s train of thought, but he tried his best to respond, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I passed by a piece earlier that I thought was very interesting. I want to take a closer look.” Ning Yixiao spoke slower than usual, looking down at Su Hui’s eyes as he did. “Is that okay?”

Su Hui nodded slightly. That tiny movement was the result of a massive inner struggle.

“Thank you for being with me.” Ning Yixiao half-carried him out. Along the white corridor, the colored light from the glass windows fell upon them, briefly masking Su Hui’s fragility.

This exhibition was significant to Su Hui, so Jing Ming, Bella, and Chloe had specifically cleared their schedules to come on the first morning. But none of them could reach Su Hui or Ning Yixiao, so they simply admired the art one by one. Su Hui possessed a powerful gift for emotional transmission; every exhibit contained a natural atmosphere that instantly pulled the viewer into his inner world—pain, restlessness, decay, loneliness, or excitement, passion, madness, and exhilaration. Each piece struck at the heart.

Chloe took many photos with her camera, planning to post a few to help her friend promote the show. When the three reached the black exhibition hall on the second floor, they unexpectedly found Su Hui and Ning Yixiao. Jing Ming started to call out, but Chloe stopped her.

“Wait, don’t disturb them yet.” She raised her camera.

Ning Yixiao and Su Hui approached an installation titled [mama]. The first thing one saw was a massive curtain hanging vertically in the center, like a thin blade or a wall dividing the space in two. On the left stood an open car; a female figure cast in silver-white metal leaned against it, holding a cigarette. Her shoulders and head were covered in black gelatinous material, viscous and heavy, pressing downward. On the right, a graceful sculpture made of transparent material wore an old white dress, its hem fluttering, but its legs were entangled by the same black material, unable to break free.

On the left curtain, a projection showed bustling, distorted streets; on the right, the projection changed to a deep, dark ocean.

At that moment, Su Hui stood on the left, staring at the projected road, reaching out to touch the “other side of the street.” At the same time, Ning Yixiao, standing on the right, reached out his fingertips through the light and shadow of the ocean, clasping Su Hui’s hand through the curtain.

Chloe recorded this moment forever. She lowered her camera and looked at the two. Even without knowing the backstory, a subtle resonance stirred in her heart.

Bella spoke, inadvertently voicing the thought circling in her own mind: “It’s as if the work only becomes complete once they walk into it.”

Ning Yixiao led Su Hui to stop in front of each exhibit he had made by hand. The crowd grew larger; occasionally, he heard unreserved praise, and some even recognized Su Hui. This put immense pressure on Su Hui, leaving him breathless. Ning Yixiao noticed this and decided to take him away.

Back in the car after leaving the gallery, Su Hui remained detached, but hearing those words hadn’t just brought pressure—it had also, truly, slightly eased his denial of his own capabilities.

“They all like you very much.” Ning Yixiao held his hand, the window framing a landscape of bright, lush greenery. “Did you hear? That little girl just said she had never seen such a beautiful piece of art.”

Su Hui lowered his eyes, clutching his own fingertips.

The scenery here was beautiful, but their planned town vacation had to be postponed. After asking Su Hui’s opinion, Ning Yixiao had the driver head to a psychiatric clinic in the city to arrange a psychological consultation.

While waiting, Ning Yixiao handled the issue with the reporter. Charles said over the phone, “I sent a legal notice, and they replied. The reporter claimed it was just a ‘work error’ and asked for a private, in-person apology, hoping for forgiveness.”

Ning Yixiao felt no pity for such people. “I don’t accept his apology. At the very least, I am suing.”

“People like this—even if you sue, they just offer a public apology. But the lawsuit will take ages; they are used to this.”

Ning Yixiao knew this, but he wanted justice for Su Hui. After hanging up, he contacted Kaisa.

“I’m Eddy’s boyfriend. We met earlier.”

Kaisa replied instantly. “Is he okay? Please tell him not to worry. The interview issue is temporarily under control. I hope it doesn’t affect his mood.”

Ning Yixiao wasn’t planning on letting it go so easily. “I remember several reporters were recording on-site. Could you please help me contact them? I need their raw footage of the entire incident.”

“The raw footage?”

“Yes.”

Kaisa thought for a moment and agreed. “I’ll ask.”

Not long after, she sent the contact info for two reporters. Ning Yixiao contacted one and proposed a trade, brief and to the point: “I need the video you recorded of today’s interview. You name the price; the footage will be mine to dispose of.”

The reporter didn’t hesitate long. It was the best possible deal for them; they had thought their work was ruined by a troublemaker, but now a bigger profit stood before them.

“Fine. I’ll send it as soon as the advance payment is received.”

Once he had the video, Ning Yixiao had Carl contact the reporter who had provoked and triggered Su Hui. He sent the video over. The entire incident was recorded; the evidence was irrefutable.

“If you don’t issue a public statement and apology, this video will be released by the media outlet that filmed it.”

The media devouring one another was the norm. The reporter panicked, realizing he had kicked a steel plate instead of a weakling he could bully in private. Left with no choice, he compromised, drafting a public letter of apology in his own name and publishing it on their platform.

Su Hui finished his 50-minute consultation and stepped out alone. Ning Yixiao was at the end of the hall on a call.

“Shaw, the reporter has backed down. He even admitted he didn’t want to do it but was paid by someone named Mike Wicker. I’m sending you his info.”

Ning Yixiao looked it up and saw he was a student at Su Hui’s university—different department, but it made the reliability of the tip much higher. Suddenly, he found the surname familiar. Recalling the father’s name, he realized the man’s family business was a construction contractor for his company’s New York park project. They had met at a bidding conference recently.

He almost laughed aloud. One thing conquers another; he happened to fall right into my hands.

Su Hui didn’t know the details. Seeing Ning Yixiao busy, he didn’t want to disturb him and stood quietly at the door. Ning Yixiao finished the call, turned, and saw Su Hui standing there, gazing at his bracelet. His heart softened; he walked over and hugged him.

“How are you? Feeling a little better?”

Su Hui looked into Ning Yixiao’s eyes and nodded sluggishly.

“Let’s go home.” Ning Yixiao touched his cheek. “I’ll steam some egg custard for you when we get back.”

Su Hui lay at home for three days, sleeping almost constantly. Ning Yixiao spent most of the time lying beside him, offering his shoulder and his embrace. Their mattress was huge; occasionally, Xue Gao would squeeze in, shrinking the loneliness and emptiness in his heart from a vast black hole down to a pebble, pressing against his chest.

When he was awake, Ning Yixiao accompanied him to watch movies or scribble with oil pastels. There were many moments when Su Hui felt the man before him might be a hallucination, but every time such a thought emerged, Ning Yixiao would extinguish it with reality—such as pressing a real kiss to his forehead.

“What are you daydreaming about?” Ning Yixiao smiled.

Su Hui’s frequency of speech began to recover. He emerged from his stupor bit by bit, less sluggish. But when he learned that Mike and the reporter planned to come and apologize, he became extremely resistant, evading the information and retreating into sleep to avoid negative emotions. He even started to hate New York—hating the messy streets, the crowded people, and the humid summer. There were so many things Su Hui hated now; he couldn’t find joy in life.

But he didn’t show it. He appeared calm, even managing a hint of relaxation for Ning Yixiao’s sake to put his mind at ease.

Ning Yixiao wasn’t easy to fool. He knew Su Hui too well; one look was enough to see through him.

It was the ninth day Su Hui had sealed himself at home. A freshly baked caramel apple pie sat on the table, smelling sweet, but Su Hui had no appetite. He ate a spoonful of apple filling very slowly. Ning Yixiao poured him water and spoke without warning.

“Su Hui, come with me to Iceland.”

He phrased it as a request to Su Hui. Su Hui was clearly surprised, taking a long time to react, but he was hesitant.

“My state… is very poor.” Su Hui lowered his eyes, appearing like someone afraid of ruining things. “If I go… it’ll be a waste.”

He didn’t want to ruin their trip to Iceland, something they had both looked forward to for so long.

Ning Yixiao said, “How could it be? Even with the same scenery, the experience is completely different depending on your state. If we go now, we can go again next time when your state changes. It’s not a waste at all—we get two different experiences. Isn’t that great?”

Su Hui hadn’t expected him to say that; his eyelashes fluttered slightly, and he was shaken.

“You’re very busy. You’ve stayed home with me for too long… and there’s so much work…”

“Exactly because I’ve been busy for too long, I want to rest, too.” Ning Yixiao held his hand, squeezing it gently. “Can you accompany me to rest?”

Whenever Ning Yixiao spoke to him like this, Su Hui lost all ability to refuse. He knew he was a burden, that he might bring a terrible experience to this journey, but he couldn’t help but agree, simply because he didn’t want to disappoint Ning Yixiao.

“Then… okay.”

Ning Yixiao smiled and tapped his forehead gently. “Thank you, Little Cat.”

Xue Gao seemed to sense it, spinning around them in excitement. He even managed to get a small snack, growing more agitated and barking a few times.

Ning Yixiao stopped him. “Be quiet.”

Xue Gao barked again.

“If you scare him, I’ll send you away.”

Su Hui had seen Ning Yixiao’s childish side before, but he was still left speechless. He had to hug Xue Gao, comforting the real dog. “He’s just scaring you.”

Ning Yixiao pulled his arm. “Su Hui, hold me like that, too.”

Su Hui obediently wrapped his arms around his neck. Such an action was usually reserved for his manic phase, usually to demand a kiss or more. Now, facing each other at such a close distance, Su Hui felt a sudden, baseless shame, so he averted his eyes.

Ning Yixiao said, “You look so beautiful.”

Su Hui subconsciously wanted to say no, I don’t, but he had been corrected by Ning Yixiao too many times. The words twisted on the tip of his tongue, turning into the standard answer Ning Yixiao had taught him.

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

With Ning Yixiao’s astonishing efficiency, they were on a flight to Iceland after getting the visa—like a breakout that broke all plans. Because of his medication, Su Hui slept for most of the six-hour flight, but he kept Ning Yixiao’s hand in his dreams.

They landed at 9:00 AM. It had just rained; it was misty, 15 degrees Celsius, not the early summer Su Hui was familiar with. Ning Yixiao picked up the rental car, picked up the obediently waiting Su Hui, and drove toward the hotel according to the GPS.

“This is our first time traveling alone together.”

It was an ordinary sentence, but Su Hui strangely felt a hint of anxiety in Ning Yixiao’s voice, so he shifted his gaze from the rolling grass outside the window to him.

Sure enough, Ning Yixiao’s hand was shaking slightly. Su Hui was rarely this sharp during a depressive phase.

“What’s wrong?” He reached out a hand, placing it gently on Ning Yixiao’s leg. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Ning Yixiao smiled and said he was fine.

Just a moment ago, an image had flashed through his mind of himself coming to Iceland alone, though the impact wasn’t severe.

“When I came last time, I wasn’t prepared. You can’t live here without a car, so I rented one. But I couldn’t drive at all back then, and I almost got into another accident. But luckily, my luck was good, and nothing happened.”

Ning Yixiao’s tone was flat, as if it had nothing to do with him, but as Su Hui listened silently, he felt a sharp ache. He looked at the patch of grassland ahead. The waves of grass were blown by the wind, undulating along the hillside in layers—an endless ocean of green.

“Yixiao.” Su Hui tugged at his hem, whispering, “Let’s stop here.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I want to go down and stay for a while.” Su Hui pointed to the valley outside the car window. “It’s very beautiful.”

“Okay.” Ning Yixiao pulled the car over and walked down with him. The mountains and plains were covered in lush green grass, dotted with wild flowers, yet it carried a cool tone not found elsewhere, reminding him of that film in the screening room.

It had just rained, and the smell of soil and vegetation was still surging. He accompanied Su Hui inside. The wind was strong, blowing both their hair into a mess, their flying hems overlapping.

Ning Yixiao’s hand was still shaking, so he didn’t hold Su Hui’s hand, trying instead to calm his own heart first. He stood where he was, looking up at the valley, feeling both familiar and strange. Last time he came, it was winter—the coldest time, polar night, and he had encountered a storm with wind and snow. The same road, yet back then, it was all desolate, covered in ice and snow, devoid of life, just like his state of mind.

Back then, he had truly wished Su Hui were there; perhaps the scenery he saw wouldn’t have been just a wasteland.

Coming back to his senses, Su Hui had walked some distance away. He was facing away, squatting in a patch of grass, seemingly observing blades of grass, but he stood up again quickly, repeating this several times.

“What are you looking at?”

Ning Yixiao slowly wandered over. Su Hui was busy with something, but he quickly turned and walked back to his side, step by step, moving slowly. He was wearing a light blue sweatshirt, one hand in his pocket, looking like a child.

When he walked closer, Ning Yixiao paused because Su Hui reached out and handed him a purple flower.

The flower was beautiful, appearing fragile in the gale, yet tenacious. Seeing he didn’t react, Su Hui didn’t speak, just handed it over again.

Ning Yixiao returned to himself and accepted the gift. “Thank you.”

Su Hui shook his head, a trace of shyness appearing on his clean face. He took Ning Yixiao’s hand and stroked his fingers gently.

Ning Yixiao looked at the small flower in his hand, his gaze shifting slightly, inadvertently catching sight of several flower stems peeking out from Su Hui’s sweatshirt pocket, swaying with his movements.

“What is that?” He reached out and pulled out those stems.

Also flowers—many of them.

Who knew Su Hui would grow anxious, trying to snatch them back from Ning Yixiao. Ning Yixiao didn’t understand, intentionally raising his hand to a height Su Hui couldn’t reach even on tiptoe, teasing him.

“You secretly picked so many, and you’re only giving me one? How stingy.”

“That’s not it.” Su Hui lowered his eyes, feeling embarrassed, and had to explain slowly. “These… don’t look good.”

He glanced at the little purple flower he had given Ning Yixiao, his voice very soft.

“This one is the most beautiful; I picked it for a long time…”