Chapter 227: Life by the Sea (Extra 1)
Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi personally escorted the sea slug back to the seaside. Accompanying them were X, Shukui, and Dou Lu.
They drove over in a car filled with luggage and dry rations prepared by Xie Chongyi himself.
“Both of you are leaving together. Are you really sure that’s okay?” Dou Lu remained doubtful. She had always believed that people are fundamentally good, but betrayal could happen at any time.
“Xue Shen is still there,” Xie Chongyi said dismissively.
Dou Lu replied, “The class monitor looks noticeably older these past few years.”
X squatted on the roof of the car and let out a couple of cackling laughs.
Wu Heng casually pulled a half-meter-long strip of dried meat from the luggage. Tilting his head, he gnawed on it, still unable to hold back his question: “I thought you would stay behind.”
Dou Lu opened the car door, hesitated, then shook her head. “I won’t.”
“Aren’t you and Ruan Silian already reconciled?” Xie Chongyi asked.
“I’m going to the seaside not because I argued with her. I’m just making up for the mistakes I made.”
The three of them left in the afternoon. By the time stars filled the sky above them, they had reached the seaside. The sea breeze was gentle, but the waves were fierce—so loud they could be heard crashing against the reefs from far away. The row of staggered houses by the shore looked like soldiers of uneven height standing in formation. Lights were on.
An older woman came out wrapped in a coat. She first saw Dou Lu and shouted, “So you finally came back!” Then she saw Xie Chongyi: “What are you doing here?” Then X: “Annoying brat.” Then Shukui—she seemed to really like Shukui, immediately pulling snacks from her pocket. Shukui licked her palm eagerly, and only then did she notice Wu Heng, freezing for a moment.
“Oh! Isn’t this that little beggar kid from last time?”
They first returned the sea slug to the ocean.
“You might get eaten,” Wu Heng said, crouching by the shore and looking at the soft white mass.
“I’m going to find the old sea turtle.”
“It’s already old.”
“Can an old sea turtle still be an old sea turtle if it isn’t old?” the sea slug said nonchalantly. “Besides, can’t you give the marine life around here a good talking-to so they’ll all be nicer to me?”
Wu Heng tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That would be meddling too much.”
“All right, enough of that,” the sea slug said, eager to return to the ocean. “The sea suits me better. I’m heading back now. If you’re not in a rush to leave, I’ll come back to visit you in a couple of days.”
After seeing the sea slug off, Wu Heng returned to the room the landlady had specially prepared for them—a single room connected to a bathroom so narrow it could barely fit two adults, with the electrical wiring for the light bulb exposed. Such rudimentary accommodations were rare in the city these days. Three years had been enough for tens of thousands of humans to renovate and rebuild every corner of the city. On the surface, Suyou City looked no different from the cities of the pre-apocalyptic era.
“There’s no water heater; you have to heat the water yourself.” However, Xie Chongyi had already boiled some water. “Go take a shower first.”
The wind outside made the tin roof clatter loudly. Wu Heng’s hair was tousled by the breeze as he stood behind Xie Chongyi, his face slightly pale. “Going sea fishing tomorrow?”
Xie Chongyi turned back with an amused smile. “Planning to empty the Pacific Ocean?”
“We rarely go on dates,” Wu Heng said.
In front of Xie Chongyi sat a small brazier containing two glowing charcoal briquettes for warmth, with a small window beside it for ventilation. He was crouching with his back to Wu Heng, his hands hovering over the brazier, turning them back and forth to warm them several times. Finally, he suddenly stood up, his warm palms cupping Wu Heng’s unsuspecting neck. He pushed Wu Heng, causing him to stumble repeatedly until he fell into the bathroom.
The hot water had already filled the cramped bathroom with swirling white mist, and the temperature rose rapidly. Wu Heng felt the person mere inches away press close to him. He parted his lips slightly, expecting a kiss on his lips, but instead, Xie Chongyi leaned down and kissed his cool Adam’s apple, then, in a seemingly tender gesture, took it into his mouth in one go.
Rather than following a set routine, Xie Chongyi preferred to catch Wu Heng off guard, not giving him time to brace himself—only then could he see his most genuine reaction.
The bathroom was pitifully small. Wu Heng was pinned against the corner; the droplets sliding down from above were hot, causing his body to slide downward, but fortunately, Xie Chongyi pulled him into his embrace, preventing him from collapsing to the floor with weak knees and legs.
Wu Heng’s entire body was held firmly in Xie Chongyi’s grasp. His hair was soaking wet, dripping with water, and wrapped around him with soft, supple flexibility. The vine offered no assistance at this moment—sensing its host’s pleasure, it too felt joy, and it even helped support Wu Heng’s buttocks.
Wu Heng could only rest his head on Xie Chongyi’s shoulder, breathing in short, shallow gasps. His breathing was uneven, as the intensity of the thrusts varied. When they were too forceful, he didn’t even have the strength to bite Xie Chongyi; instead, Xie’s free hand would grip the back of his neck and pull him back, creating some distance between them.
Wu Heng looked up at the man before him, his face full of mockery, with a pair of eyes that were both emerald-green and misty with confusion.
Xie Chongyi’s hand slid to the back of Wu Heng’s neck; he lifted his chin with the web of his hand, gazed down at him for a long moment, and whispered, “How many times have I called you ‘gege’?”
“I don’t know. I forgot.”
Xie Chongyi’s lips turned down. “How many times have you called me that?”
“Never.” Zero.
“Then call me that now.”
Wu Heng wasn’t one to waste time quibbling over such things; since Xie Chongyi wanted to hear it, he simply opened his mouth. “Gege.”
The object lodged within the young man’s body swelled silently, yet outwardly, he merely stared intently at Wu Heng without blinking.
Unlike him—whenever he called him “gege,” it was always to beg for something from Wu Heng or to take advantage of him. He knew full well that it had nothing to do with regarding the other as an older brother. But Wu Heng’s tone and demeanor were exactly like that of an older brother, causing Xie Chongyi to feel a fleeting sense of transgression regarding their current actions.
But that didn’t stop them from continuing.
Amid the roaring wind and waves, it was a long time before Wu Heng’s unbearable sobs gradually became audible.
—
The group set out to sea early, but they left a boat for them. The dog and bird also slept in with them until the sun was high in the sky.
The older woman made them breakfast: congee with fresh fish slices and pickled radish. Radish was easy to grow and yielded a large harvest; if you couldn’t afford store-bought food, planting your own still gave you plenty. While eating, Wu Heng glanced out the window and saw a large stretch of lush green farmland on the other side—there were not only radishes, but also lettuce, cilantro, and other vegetables, all growing well.
Wu Heng quickly finished a small basin of congee, then remembered that the dog-bird beside him—already drooling heavily—hadn’t been fed yet, so he went to serve them some as well.
“Is there anywhere around here suitable for sea fishing?” Xie Chongyi set down his bowl early and walked outside to ask the older woman, who was hoeing the field.
The woman straightened up. “Yes. You can fish anywhere in this sea, but it’s dangerous. Still, you’re ability users, so it should be fine—just watch out for those troublemakers. They sometimes team up and flip boats from underneath.”
“What are they?” he asked.
“Octopuses, tiger sharks—those kinds. Very annoying.” She tucked the hoe under her arm and gestured with her hands. “A couple of months ago when it got too cold, they probably couldn’t find food and started coming ashore at night. One octopus alone was big enough to cover an entire house. Dou Lu threw them a few baskets of small fish before they finally left. But the next night? They came again! That time, we drove them off with our fists.”
“So because you fed them before, they developed the habit of harassing boats,” Xie Chongyi said lazily, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s not good.”
“I just wanted them to leave quickly at the time. I didn’t think that much. If I’d known they were that shameless, we definitely wouldn’t have fed them.”
The older woman looked full of regret. “So you must be careful when you go out to sea. Xiao Mo from the team said some species come up from the deep sea—ugly-looking and extremely vicious…”
As she was speaking, Shukui and X had just finished breakfast. Wu Heng took their bowls away and lowered his eyes.
“Am I vicious?” he asked.
“Remember classical texts,” X replied seriously, folding its wings.
Before they left, Xie Chongyi took two hats from the older woman. He put one on Wu Heng before boarding the boat.
“You might get sunburned without a hat.”
X and Shukui dragged two large bags of fishing gear, stumbling along the beach.
Even with only animal heads, they seemed to understand why these two humans insisted on bringing them along for what was essentially a date. At first, they hadn’t wanted to come—travel was tiring, meals and sleep were irregular, and compared to going out to sea, they would have preferred staying in a warm house…
Thinking this, X jumped onto the boat first. “Fish, fish, fish, fish, fish!”
Wu Heng boarded next. The boat rocked gently on the sea surface. It wasn’t a sailboat; it could be powered by gasoline, diesel, electricity, or even abilities. It had a dedicated cabin for fishing gear, a live-bait compartment, and a resting room. Its overall size wasn’t large—barely enough for fewer than ten people—but for just the two of them, plus a dog and a bird, it was more than sufficient.
Xie Chongyi boarded last. After coming on, he stowed the anchor and squatted behind the control wheel, studying it for a while before trying to channel energy into the storage unit. Once the engine started, the bow slowly adjusted its direction.
Wu Heng sat cross-legged on the deck, organizing fishing line while watching the older woman running over from the grassy shore.
“Don’t go too far—stay nearby! The waves get big at night!”
Although X was the first to jump onto the boat, it was always timid at heart. It clung tightly to Wu Heng’s thigh, and when the fishing boat began moving forward—and the bow lifted for a moment—it immediately shoved its head into the crook of Wu Heng’s armpit.
Under a clear sky, sea wind carrying moisture swept through the air. The calm ocean surface was cut open by the boat’s hull, and white spray behind them gradually gathered and settled back into stillness.
The temperature wasn’t actually high—Wu Heng was still wearing a jacket—but the sunlight was harsh. Before long, his cheeks had already started to feel warm. He had prepared his fishing gear, but the boat showed no sign of stopping yet. He glanced back at Xie Chongyi, then slowly moved to the front, slipped his legs through the railing, and let them dangle as he looked down at the churning seawater.
No marine life could be seen below, but he was very familiar with this stretch of sea. He even knew the shape of the rocks underneath, and where the best hiding spots were.
After going more than ten nautical miles out, Xie Chongyi finally stopped the boat and dropped anchor. Around them stretched an endless expanse of blue.
“What do you think we can catch today?” Xie Chongyi walked over to Wu Heng’s side, picked up a fishing rod, and set a bucket of bait between them.
“Anything is fine,” Wu Heng replied.
“No using abilities?”
“…Let’s try.”
“Then it’s a competition,” Xie Chongyi said. The reel in his hand spun with a sharp whirr as he cast the baited hook into the sea. The float dipped beneath the surface, then slowly rose again. He shifted his gaze from the float to Wu Heng’s face.
“You lost. For the next week, you’re not allowed to call me ‘class monitor,’ ‘Xie Chongyi,’ or ‘Xiao Xie.’ You can only call me ‘gege.’”
“And if you lose?” Wu Heng narrowed his eyes, trying to look dangerous.
“Same.”
“Fine.” It was fair. Wu Heng was sure he would win.
