Eaten Ch.123.1

Chapter 123.1: “Thank you” and “I like you”

Xie Chongyi was caught off guard by the question. Then he laughed—but it didn’t look like happiness. He yanked the goggles down from his head and tossed it aside.

“If I like you, will you like me back?”

“…No.”

Xie Chongyi squatted in front of him. There was none of the embarrassment or self-abasement of being disliked; instead, he looked completely at ease.

“Then why ask?”

Wu Heng lay on the mat, taking a few breaths before answering. “Being the first to say you like someone doesn’t necessarily mean you’re the one who’ll like them the longest. It only shows that you’re good at—and enjoy—taking the initiative.”

“I’m the one who liked first, so who’s the one who liked later?” Xie Chongyi picked the words apart, thinking there were several points in Wu Heng’s statement worth discussing.

Wu Heng pressed his lips together, turned his head aside, and said nothing.

They hadn’t been apart for long—about a week. Looking at Wu Heng, Xie Chongyi wanted to touch him, to hold him.

The arrival of emotion varies from person to person. When feelings are too intense, crashing in like an avalanche, whether for him or for Wu Heng, they would only backfire—earning nothing but both of their aversions, without the slightest sign of a successful landing.

So instead, it moved in a roundabout way—winding, subtle, inadvertent, unnoticed. It used separation as tempering, refined “nothing much” into “no one else will do.”

Xie Chongyi stretched out his arm and pinched Wu Heng’s cheek, turning his face toward him.

“Met some new friends these past few days?” Because judging by Wu Heng’s personality, he would never take the initiative to think about questions like this.

Wu Heng was still pondering, not yet speaking, when from the campfire not far away came Meisida’s voice as he introduced himself, plate in hand.

“Lamb pies—you can give them a try. Even when they’re cold, you can take them along to eat on the road.”

“Oh right, we met at Liuying. I used to run a dessert shop. If conditions allow, I can make any kind of dessert—my ex-boyfriend really loved sweets.”

“No, no, he didn’t die. We just weren’t suited to each other, so we broke up. Dating’s like that—the outcome’s always the same, haha.”

Dou Lu saw this and pressed two leaves into the other person’s hands.

“Tears. Wipe them.”

Meisida blew his nose, absurdly loud.

Watching this scene, Xie Chongyi more or less understood why Wu Heng had asked him that kind of question.

“Don’t hang out with people like that.” Xie Chongyi withdrew his gaze and said to Wu Heng, “You’ll pick up bad habits.”

Wu Heng wrapped himself up in the blanket. “The outcome’s always the same, hehe.”

“……”

Among the group behind them, every single one was single. They all offered Meisida—the heartbroken older youth—sincere comfort and sympathy.

Xie Chongyi snorted coldly. He ran into Wu Heng’s assessing, scrutinizing gaze, and found himself even more at a loss for words.

The boy opened his palm in front of Wu Heng.

“Wu Heng, do you want to be with me—just try it?”

“Like Meisida and his ex-boyfriend?”

“They can’t represent all couples, let alone us.”

“They really can’t,” Wu Heng’s eyes shifted as he said calmly, “I might die.”

The awakening of dual-type abilities had pushed him to the brink of death. Everyone dies eventually—but for him, it could be tomorrow, a few hours from now, or the very next second.

“What a coincidence. So might I.”

Above Xie Chongyi’s palm, a black insect floated in midair, its several pairs of crimson eyes fixed on the boy lying on the mat.

Wu Heng didn’t know what Xie Chongyi was trying to do.

“If you’re willing to be with me,” Xie Chongyi said quietly, looking at Wu Heng, “then breathe.”

Wu Heng held his breath.

“……”

Xie Chongyi clicked his tongue, bent down, and pinched Wu Heng’s face hard.

“Hurry up. Breathe.”

In Xie Chongyi’s red pupils, Wu Heng saw his own face—a very unfamiliar one, cheeks faintly flushed, eyes smiling. No wonder Xie Chongyi dared to make such a demand. If it were him, facing a similar face, he would think that even if he asked the other person to die for him, they would do so without hesitation.

Why did it turn out like this?

Xie Chongyi was nothing more than food he had eliminated.

‘I don’t want to.’ Wu Heng said silently to himself.

“Then let’s try.” His reply came out muffled, his words distorted by Xie Chongyi pinching his face.

There was no time, and no chance, to regret it. The insect resting in Xie Chongyi’s palm melted away—black liquid collapsing and flowing like magma, gathering and solidifying below into a narrow, pitch-black ring.

“Give me your hand.”

‘No.’ Wu Heng was afraid of insects to begin with.

Still, he placed his hand into Xie Chongyi’s palm.

Xie Chongyi paused for a moment, then finally slipped the ring onto Wu Heng’s left ring finger. The band was a little loose, but it tightened itself automatically.

“Why the ring finger?” Wu Heng raised his hand before his eyes. His fingers were pale and translucent; the ring formed from the insect clung perfectly to his skin, seamless, with no trace left of the creature it had once been.

Xie Chongyi was in an excellent mood.

“Because I don’t think I’ll ever have a second relationship.”

“Then what about me?”

Xie Chongyi tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t recommend trying too many.”

“Because the outcome’s always the same?”

“No.” Xie Chongyi shook his head lightly. “I’ll kill your lover, then cut you in half and stick you into a flowerpot.”

“Oh.” Wu Heng’s expression was indifferent.

After a while, he asked again, “Then should we tell them?”

The others were sitting in a circle, listening to Meisida’s story. At the emotional parts, a few of them were even moved to tears.

Even Shukui and X were listening nearby, both completely absorbed.

“Let it happen naturally.” Xie Chongyi slid his hand under the blanket and took Wu Heng’s hand.

His brows shifted slightly, and to everyone else, the scene the two of them occupied froze in place. He bent down and, without warning, caught Wu Heng’s lips in a light bite, his hand moving over Wu Heng’s waist through the blanket.

“Th-they…” Wu Heng struggled a little, his breathing uneven. Doing this with Xie Chongyi right under everyone’s noses…

“They can’t see.” Xie Chongyi lifted Wu Heng’s chin, his tongue sweeping over the boy’s neat, glutinous-rice-white teeth.

Seeing that Wu Heng still wouldn’t open his mouth, Xie Chongyi pulled back a little, kissing the corner of Wu Heng’s lips as he spoke while kissing, “Be good, A’Heng. Brother—open your mouth. I want to go in.”

Half of Wu Heng’s body was already wrapped up by him until it felt weak and numb; his lips parted unconsciously.

Xie Chongyi’s tongue brushed along Wu Heng’s palate and slid in. He kissed very gently, yet he missed nothing, not even a single one of Wu Heng’s breaths.

The boy kept his eyes half open. The gentler his kiss was, the more turbulent the possessiveness surging in his eyes.

Wu Heng felt their lips gradually go from cool to warm and damp. He was dizzy, so much so that even the outline of the boy above him was veiled in a soft white glow. All his attention was dragged into the act of kissing itself; he could even feel the fine hairs on his face trembling again and again under their shared breath.

The ring band on his finger grew faintly warm. That heat seeped into his skin, rushed into his bones—his entire finger seemed no longer to belong to him, taking on Xie Chongyi’s body temperature.

Just as Wu Heng was reeling, Xie Chongyi withdrew from his mouth. Along the curve of his cheek, his hot lips brushed Wu Heng’s earlobe, then suddenly bit down.

The boy’s consciousness snapped sharply clear; he opened his eyes.

But it was too late. His earlobe had already been pierced by Xie Chongyi’s sharp teeth. A cool draft blew through the spot that had been bitten through, and then something else filled it.

After making sure it was secure, Xie Chongyi slowly straightened up. His eyes were a murky red, tinged with something wicked.

Satisfied, he rubbed Wu Heng’s ear. “From now on, it’ll help me keep an eye on you at all times—and remind you.”

Wu Heng didn’t understand what he meant, nor did he know where the smugness on Xie Chongyi’s face was coming from.

He took a mirror out of his storage space and held it up to his ear—embedded in the surface of his earlobe was a red insect eye. Sensing that it was being watched, it even blinked at Wu Heng in the mirror.

“……”

Wu Heng flung the mirror straight out.

Space itself was smashed through, and the group of people on the other side immediately turned to look at them.

—

“Xie Chongyi! Xie Chongyi! Class Monitor~~~~~”

Lin Mengzhi leaned on his crutch, yet chased after him at full speed. He tugged at one of his own ears and begged incessantly, “Make one for me too, please! I’m begging you—I want one as well—”

After being chased around a few laps, Xie Chongyi got fed up and sat down beside Wu Heng.

“Let’s talk about business.”

“We still have business?” Lin Mengzhi tilted his body and stroked his chin. “How come I don’t know about that?”

“The first thing,” Sheng Jiang turned around, facing Wu Heng, “is whether you want to come with us to Jingzhou.”

“Don’t rush to refuse. Going to Jingzhou would absolutely bring you more benefits than drawbacks. First, Jingzhou’s medical conditions are far better than you wandering around outside. Second, every day a plant symbiont exists is more dangerous than the last—right now, basically all plant scientists are concentrated in Jingzhou, and plant symbionts will also make contact with Jingzhou at the first opportunity. Third, Xiao Xie is in Jingzhou. Aren’t you two close? Why separate?”

The boy beside Sheng Jiang—someone no one had seen before, clearly here for the first time—looked around and then said, “You’re so capable. I think developing in Jingzhou would be even better for you. And given the current situation, people like you are really needed—your friends too.”

Hearing this, Lin Mengzhi didn’t particularly care. He could go anywhere; he would just follow Wu Heng anyway.

“I’m not going to Jingzhou.” Wu Heng declined the invitation calmly.

Xie Chongyi propped his chin on his hand beside him, smiling brightly.

“I told you—he wouldn’t go.”

“Then what are you planning to do?” someone asked. “It’s very dangerous for you out there.”

“Things are chaotic right now. There are ability-user riots and civilian protests breaking out at multiple bases. Underground organizations are openly selling and leasing ability users, and even putting out bounties on energy cores. Dual-type abilities have no precedent—you’re probably already at the limit of what your body can withstand. If this information leaks out, do you understand what you’ll be facing?”

Holding a priceless jade invites trouble—Sheng Jiang was simply worried. “And the people around you—they still need your protection.”

Wu Heng cradled a cup of hot water in his hands, unmoved.

“Want to steal my abilities? Personally, I warmly welcome them.”

The boy wanted to continue persuading him, but Wu Heng had already lowered his eyes, unwilling to listen further.

“I’m not interested in Jingzhou. I’ll build my own base.”

Lin Mengzhi stood beside Wu Heng, blood boiling with excitement.

“Who wants to work for you people anyway.”

Ruan Silian topped up everyone’s cups with hot water.

“When the time comes, you can all come visit.”

When the kettle reached Dou Lu, she raised her hand to block it.

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Lulu…”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“All right, then let’s get to work now. Wu Heng, you’ll need to give a detailed account of everything regarding the stone core.” Sheng Jiang motioned for the boy to step forward and take notes.

Half an hour later, it was time for them to leave. The note-taking boy tucked away his notebook and climbed into the pilot’s seat of the aircraft.

The rotor blades began to turn slowly as Sheng Jiang climbed into the cabin.

Dou Lu didn’t want to go. She held onto the cabin door, glaring resentfully at Ruan Silian. “You only ever think about yourself—and your self-righteous idea of thinking for others.”

Xie Chongyi slowly put on his goggles and turned around.

“In a couple of days, once things calm down…” He saw the energetic flower bud above Wu Heng’s head, on the verge of blooming. “Remember—save the flower for me.”

Wu Heng asked, “What else is going on in Jingzhou?”

Xie Chongyi’s gaze was especially sharp behind the lenses. “My mom says this is only the beginning of the apocalypse. The real apocalypse might be the destruction of all life on Earth—things pushed to the extreme will rebound. Supernatural abilities are proof of that. But for now, it’s all just speculation.”

“Jingzhou is in an uproar. Most organizations are trying to trace the origins of the apocalypse and figure out where humanity’s future is headed. Some support developing ability users first and letting them drive the progress of ordinary people without abilities; some insist that if there’s development, everyone should develop together; others advocate establishing a special organization to uniformly manage ability users; and a small minority are still focused on immediate livelihoods… Wu Heng, my mom belongs to that small minority.”

Xie Chongyi sighed. “I was originally too lazy to get involved with her.”

Wu Heng said, “You said before that she treated you badly—didn’t even buy you clothes with anime characters printed on them…”

“Stop.” Xie Chongyi laughed. “Once I go knock some sense into that bunch of old men who oppose her, I’ll come find you.”

Thinking of Wu Shiming and Zeng Like’s strict control over him, Wu Heng couldn’t help asking, “Will she let you leave?”

“Ever since she drove me out of Jingzhou, her wish has been for me to stay alive. Now, her wish is probably that I’ll be happy every day from here on out.”

Xie Chongyi still didn’t kiss Wu Heng in front of everyone—Wu Heng wouldn’t know how to explain it to the others anyway, or would end up explaining it all wrong. Instead, he interlaced their fingers and gave a firm squeeze.

“I’m going.”

He turned and walked toward the aircraft, but after a few steps, he suddenly paused. He came back, leaned close to Wu Heng, and said, “Try to have less contact with Meisida. His thinking’s a bit extreme.”

After finishing his warning, the boy broke into a run toward the aircraft.

The combat uniform wrapped around Xie Chongyi’s figure, outlining it to striking advantage. Even the way he boarded the aircraft was more visually impressive than anyone else’s.

The rotor blades suddenly sped up, and the aircraft lifted off the ground.

Lin Mengzhi stared up in disbelief. “Why is the class monitor sitting in the co-pilot’s seat?! With his skills—flying a plane?! I’m calling the police.”

Wu Heng also tilted his head back, watching as the aircraft grew smaller and smaller. His heart felt swollen, and the ring finger of his left hand was burning hot.

A tiny—so tiny it was barely audible—cracking sound rang out above his head.

Behind him, Ruan Silian let out a soft cry of surprise.

“A’Heng, you’re blooming!”

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