Yuri couldn’t bring himself to lift his head in front of the motionless Lingshinlu, swallowing a bitter breath as he wondered what kind of expression he wore while looking down on him. Probably anger or a sneer, somewhere along those lines.
“…Your expression really doesn’t change… But I guess it’s starting to become readable. I can tell what you’re thinking.”
Well, he muttered to himself, there’s no point trying to read his expression if he doesn’t lie.
Slowly, Yuri raised his head—and saw, unexpectedly, Lingshinlu looking at him with a faint smile at the corner of his eyes, as if amused. The beauty of those eyes caught Yuri’s gaze again.
No, I shouldn’t look—but I want to see even just a little more.
Lingshinlu looked at him steadily, then let out a soft chuckle, narrowing his eyes further.
“If you hadn’t been so irritating, you might have become a rather amusing and likeable cricket... But anyway, look away now. Don’t stare.”
A low voice entered Yuri’s ears at some point. Opening his closed eyes, he rose.
Though the night was pitch dark and silent like waking from a dream, Yuri lingered by the door before slipping on his robe and stepping outside.
Passing through the chilly, dark living room, he stopped at the partially opened door to the inner room.
Inside was still and quiet, as if to show how deeply the occupant slept.
“.........”
Before Yuri, holding his breath, could blink even once, a low sound came from inside again—a breath like that of a wounded animal.
“…Excuse me.”
A quiet voice gently knocked on the door, sounding unusually loud in the still night air. The rough breathing that had come from inside vanished as if washed away, and Yuri pushed the door open.
Without turning on the light, his eyes adjusted easily to the dark, revealing the scene inside: the empty blister pack of painkillers on the bedside table, an empty water cup on the floor. Yuri knew the pack had originally held eight pills.
“Are you in much pain?”
He approached the bed, bending down to speak softly.
Lingshinlu lay motionless beneath the covers, as if asleep. The breathing from before seemed like a dream’s exhale—he truly appeared to have fallen asleep.
“I’ll get a wet towel.”
Just as Yuri said this and was about to stand, a low, hoarse voice emerged slowly from beneath the covers, as if speaking was difficult.
“If you’re not here to give me more painkillers, then leave.”
Yuri looked down at him briefly, then silently turned away.
After a short absence, Yuri returned carrying a warm, steaming wet towel. Gently pulling back the blanket, he uncovered Lingshinlu’s pale face drenched in cold sweat. One of his eyes, gleaming even in the dark, glared at Yuri before blinking a few times—perhaps sweat had gotten into it.
“Don’t touch me at night… I really feel like killing someone, I’m going crazy.”
More precisely, it was that he wanted to kill but his body wouldn’t cooperate, driving him mad. His gleaming eyes spoke this clearly.
During the day, as he moved, the pain sank somewhat beneath his consciousness, but at night it surged fiercely. It was like someone stabbing his eyes with a red-hot poker. Though he could normally endure pain easily, this was so terrible it made his head numb. No matter how many painkillers he swallowed, the pain didn’t fade, and his eyes burned unbearably. His whole body would be soaked in cold sweat in an instant.
Every night.
He’d lose consciousness to the pain, then wake exhausted, his pain fading only near dawn when the sweat-soaked body could finally find relief.
Each time, Yuri came to the room, silently watching over Lingshinlu clenching his teeth to keep from moaning.
“Do you enjoy seeing someone suffer so miserably? Damn it, why do I keep you alive… no, I mean…”
“Don’t bite your tongue.”
The waves of pain came intermittently—moments so painful his eyes showed only white, alternating with moments where his mind cleared enough to notice his own cold sweat and gasping breaths. Whenever the pain overwhelmed him, Lingshinlu bit his lips or other parts to dull it, and Yuri quietly blocked him—willing to even put his own fingers in his mouth if necessary.
Once the wave of pain receded, Lingshinlu lay on the bed panting.
“Tastes like blood in my mouth… Who wants to taste your blood?”
“Hold out your left arm.”
Ignoring his muttered words, Yuri pulled Lingshinlu’s arm and gently wiped his wet body with the warm towel before it cooled. Occasionally the jet-black eye glared dangerously at Yuri, but it seemed Lingshinlu had no strength to resist.
It’s okay. When day comes, he’ll be back to the bright Lingshinlu who divides his outward and inward selves so clearly, smiling as usual, unaware of the night’s torment.
And now, dawn was slowly creeping into the night.
“...Tae-i hyung…”
From the exhausted Lingshinlu came a familiar name, barely conscious.
“He’ll come to him. Even if I’m in pain like this, I’ll go to him.”
Instead of answering, Yuri put down the towel and pulled the blanket back over him, carefully tucking it in.
“I met him first. I liked him before that guy did. He liked me too… not him.”
His voice was tired; his lips cracked and dry from biting.
How many times had he thought that? During the day he appeared like the sun, but inside he must have thought it hundreds of times, despite knowing the pain and despair.
“Why him? Why that guy? If only it weren’t him… if only… then maybe…”
He fell silent like a dazed muttering. After a pause, he pulled the blanket over his head. By day, he was an overwhelming presence stronger than many older men; now he shrank like a helpless child. Yuri unconsciously raised his hand to comfort him, but stopped and withdrew it.
“Don’t look. …You. Your gaze. I really don’t like it. What are you hoping for?”
“…I’m not hoping for anything.”
Other than looking, he added in a low voice from under the blanket. Yuri thought he might have scoffed, but even that breath was weak and scattered.
“Don’t be ridiculous… Even biological parents have the greed to want to get back the affection they gave. Want to be liked, want a smile when eyes meet. Do you know how noisy that is…? But that’s better. …What are you? I don’t know what you want by looking.”
Yuri said nothing.
Lingshinlu’s voice grew slower. His dulled mind, numbed by repeated pain, seemed to be slipping into unconsciousness. This kind of pain would only last a few days at most. Maybe by tomorrow it would lighten to a bearable level. Probably by the day after.
Then he wouldn’t babble whatever was on his mind half-conscious. When Yuri met him again in the morning, he wouldn’t have an unpleasant expression.
That’d be fine—just please don’t keep it all bottled up inside. …But that’s not Yuri’s role.
Waiting until the faint movement of the blanket settled into a steady rhythm, Yuri quietly rose. Gazing out the dark window—so dark he doubted if dawn even existed beyond—he turned and left.
No joy, no sorrow, no ecstasy, no misfortune.
The water was always filled only with calm.
Once upon a time, whenever submerged, he’d always think so. While immersed, both body and mind emptied, as if truly melting.
Cozy and peaceful. As if in the place where everything began.
“.........”
Exhaling deeply, Yuri lifted his head above the water and brushed his hair from his eyes, looking up. The dim sky was just beginning to brighten.
Emerging from the water, consciousness scattered like melting ice returned. Yuri stepped out of the pool, draping the towel hung on the ladder over his shoulders. It was still pitch dark early dawn, and his wet body was cold.
But his mood had lifted. As always, entering and leaving the water seemed to melt away his heavy thoughts.
I probably can’t live without water, Yuri muttered, shaking the water from his ear.
This was the only time Lingshinlu could enter the water—while he slept deeply. Though a guard stood watch, and Yuri warned him before leaving, Lingshinlu rarely left his side while awake.
Actually, even now he’d only been underwater a short time compared to usual, but that was enough to satisfy him today. That would keep him going.
Just as Yuri muttered to himself about returning to the room and slipped on his sandals—
“You look like a water ghost in this dim light.”
The sudden voice behind him made Yuri flinch and tense his shoulders.
“...What are you doing here?”
Turning with hunched shoulders, Yuri blinked and identified the owner of the familiar tired voice. He had left the room after seeing Lingshinlu sleep like the dead. He never imagined that the man, who suffered all night in sweat and pain, would appear here.
“I woke up because of the pain. But it’s less at midnight, so I can bear it.”
Lingshinlu sat on a beach bench, frowning and pressing his bandaged head with one hand. He rubbed his temple with his thumb, likely from a headache.
“I see,” Yuri said, standing silently and watching him.
Lingshinlu seemed to have somewhat regained his senses; his pain had lessened to a bearable degree, as he said.
“Did you come down for some fresh air?”
“Looking down from above, no one should be out in the pool this early. I stood still for so long I wondered if I’d be the first to find a drowned body, so I came down.”
His voice was low, but he spoke like usual Lingshinlu. So calm and gentle, it didn’t sound sarcastic.
“You really like the water? You probably didn’t sleep much, but you’d rather swim than sleep? ...I envy you. I’ve never really been that into anything.”
“…I’m already hooked. Day or night, my mind is totally on that.”
Yuri’s quiet reply made Lingshinlu stop talking for a moment. Perhaps annoyed by Yuri’s words, he didn’t seem angry but clicked his tongue and muttered, “I really don’t like it…”
He grumbled in a sour tone as Yuri watched him. Droplets fell from Yuri’s hair onto the floor. Yuri then opened his mouth.
“Why don’t you go into the pool while you’re here? You’ll feel much lighter. Heavy thoughts will melt away like salt.”
“…With these legs? With these eyes?”
Lingshinlu looked at Yuri with his narrow eyes, lifting his bandaged ankle. Yuri felt sheepish, muttering, “Oh, right.” Lingshinlu looked at him as if he thought he was a fool, then added pointedly,
“I told you—I don’t swim. I almost drowned once, so I don’t want to go in again.”
Hearing his muttered thoughts about the kid who just watched while a child nearly drowned, and who vowed to catch that kid later, Yuri remained silent.
From what Yuri heard, Lingshinlu has three people he plans to eliminate: Rigrow, Yuri himself, and that childhood bystander.
…That’s one less problem.
“But really, if what you say is true, I kind of want to do it. To feel my heavy thoughts melt like salt.”
Lingshinlu leaned deep into the bench, closing his eyes lazily and murmuring.
“If that were so, this pool would turn to Dead Sea-level salt water in no time,” he muttered to himself.
Yuri silently watched him. Seeing him not move at all, Yuri lifted the edge of the towel covering his shoulders and wiped the droplets from his hair.
“I’ve been like that since I was a kid.”
The words slipped out quietly, like a mutter.
“When I was underwater, it felt like my thoughts melted out of my body. The pain diluted, and I forgot the suffering. So I spent a lot of time living in the water.”
Maybe he was originally a more intense person—more demanding, crying, throwing tantrums, stamping feet, shouting with joy—but those feelings had melted away in the water without his knowledge.
Yet, even calmer emotions were important to Yuri, and he always listened to them. What he truly wanted, even now.
“I’ve never seen you smile. It would be nice if I could see that face.”
He wanted this pretty, pitiable youth to smile—truly happily.
He’d never seen that face, but it didn’t matter if it wasn’t him who saw it.
Yuri closed his mouth, gazing quietly at Lingshinlu, whose thoughts were unknown behind closed eyes, and swallowed.
“Shall we go back? It’s cold to wear something so thin.”
Lingshinlu must not have fallen asleep; he heard Yuri’s words but had no intention to move. Yuri draped the towel he’d been covering himself with over Lingshinlu’s shoulders. At last, he slowly opened his eyes.
“You stole the towel from someone who’s completely naked and wrapped it around yourself. How are you cold? …Take it back. The towel’s wet and unpleasant.”
Lingshinlu pulled the towel from his shoulders and tossed it to Yuri with a displeased look.
“Do you know what ‘unrealistic’ means?”
Suddenly mixing in Chinese, Yuri looked at Lingshinlu in confusion but soon nodded.
“I know.”
“Good. Then I’ll tell you—I don’t dislike you. You’re kind of interesting, and surprisingly, I don’t feel uncomfortable being around you. Sometimes I even find it funny, enjoyable. If you measure by that, I probably like you more than average. …But when my eyes hurt, or when I suddenly hate that bastard so much I want to blow off his head, at those times, I can’t stand you either. It’s not that I bear ill will against you, and I know logically that what you do is for me, but emotionally, I don’t control those feelings. Why did you have to butt in and make me feel even more miserable?”
Yuri fell silent. Lingshinlu’s expression tightened as he recalled the memory. He let out a bitter sigh, rubbing his furrowed brows. His gaze flickered to Yuri’s finger covered in worn bandages—the finger he’d bitten earlier—and sighed again softly.
“But I know you’re not a bad person, and that you try for me. So I’m telling you this for your sake.”
"........."
“Have realistic expectations. My smiling face isn’t something just anyone can see.”
Saying this with an expression that was hard to tell if he was joking or serious, Lingshinlu looked directly at Yuri and then suddenly smiled—the bright, beautiful smile he often showed others. Then he pointed to himself.
“You don’t want to see this face, do you?”
This formal, artificial face. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Yuri realized that as much as he knew Lingshinlu, Lingshinlu also understood him. Or maybe he knew Yuri’s heart even better. “That face isn’t something I can put on at will,” he lightly added, and Yuri stared intently at him before faintly shaking his head.
“It’s fine if I’m not the one seeing it. Anywhere is fine.”
As long as he smiles happily. It’s okay if it’s not me who sees that heavenly beautiful face. …Perhaps someone like Jung Tae-ui, who’d do anything to have him by his side, wouldn’t understand this.
Lingshinlu scowled at Yuri’s words in disbelief, then quietly looked at the calm pool before shrugging.
“Well, maybe if I had water too, I’d smile like that.”
Yuri looked puzzled, and Lingshinlu smiled again with his usual lovely smile.
“You said being underwater makes your heavy thoughts melt away. If I had that, I’d smile too. Though I don’t know what that feels like.”
Then he gave a faintly cold smile, murmured that it was a little chilly, and stood up from the bench. Wearing only a loose shirt, he rubbed his arm and glanced at Yuri.
“Aren’t you cold?”
Yuri just silently looked at him and suddenly asked,
“Can I see your other face?”
"........"
“I mean your usual—like now—normal face.”
He didn’t know how to fix the look that said he was displeased, but he rambled in an uncharacteristic, awkward way. Lingshinlu stared quietly at him, then suddenly scoffed.
“This guy starts getting greedy as soon as he thinks someone’s feeling better.”
“Is that not allowed?”
Lingshinlu frowned slightly, showing a face that clearly said, “What a nuisance,” but Yuri didn’t look away and met his gaze silently.
Then—
“Look.”
The sudden answer came, clearly very displeased, sounding like “Why should I look?” Yuri, who had momentarily lowered his head, raised his eyes again after about a second.
“Don’t stare too blatantly. And not when I’m in a bad mood.”
Lingshinlu shrugged as if generously trying to accommodate, and Yuri nodded curtly.
“Yes. I’ll do that.”
Good. Lovely and cute, even with his somewhat twisted inside. Yuri loved to soak in every vibrant detail of him. So from the moment those words left his lips, he kept staring at him—knowing all too well how soon Lingshinlu would frown.
Damn, he muttered, looking somewhat embarrassed, scanning Yuri before turning his gaze away and spitting out,
“You should smile more often.”
Only then did Yuri realize his expression had loosened. He touched his face and blinked, while Lingshinlu, regardless, turned and started walking toward the building.
“It’s cold, let’s go inside. …Need to re-tape those fingers. They’re all wet.”
Following behind him without looking back, Yuri answered, “Yes.” His fingers no longer hurt at all.
Yuri received the news while waiting for Lingshinlu at the hospital.
After finishing the consultation with Dr. Byerun that morning—and waiting outside because Yuri didn’t want to attend with anyone else anyway—Yuri was feeding cookies to pigeons in the hospital’s sunny front yard when he noticed James’s name on the phone’s screen. Glancing toward the hospital entrance, he wondered if Dr. Byerun had already contacted James.
After answering, James quickly dropped the formalities and said, “Jung Tae-ui has been confirmed to be at Al Saud’s villa.”
“.........”
Though Yuri had guessed this, he was momentarily speechless. He threw the remaining cookies away and stood.
“How was it confirmed?”
‘Looks like Rick himself called him. He’s currently at Al Saud’s villa with Jung Jae-ui.’
“I see. What’s the current situation…”
‘He cut the call quickly, so we can’t confirm more. But judging by no mention of danger, he’s probably safe.’
At that moment, Lingshinlu appeared leaving the hospital with a light step, carrying a medicine bag in one hand. Instead of the thick bandages covering half his face, he wore an eye patch and sunglasses. He lightly waved at Yuri as he approached, then stopped close to him with a strange expression as he saw Yuri staring intently during his call.
“…Since contact’s been made, we should hurry.”
‘Right. It’d be troublesome if he moved in the meantime. Anyway, Yuri, you did well. The location of Jung Jae-ui is confirmed.’
Hearing James’s words about months of effort finally concluding, Yuri murmured a distracted “Yes.” The contract was complete—the original goal, Jung Jae-ui’s whereabouts, had been confirmed and Yuri’s task was finished. What remained was for those who needed Jae-ui to handle the rest.
‘We’ll contact you later about the contract renewal. For now, you need to hurry as you said.’
Then the call ended.
Lingshinlu had been silently watching Yuri for a while.
“They found him?”
The usual calm voice sounded, but Yuri sensed a faint unfamiliar emotion inside. He nodded.
“Where?”
“At Ramaan Abid Al Saud’s villa, with Jung Jae-ui.”
“How did they manage to confirm so well?”
“Jung Tae-ui himself called Rigrow.”
After a short silence, a brief, “Hmm, I see,” came.
On the way back to the hotel, they spoke little. Yuri asked how his eyes were; the answer was brief—still the same. Lingshinlu gazed out the window with a face unreadable in thought.
Recovery was fast. The wounds left almost no scars. Once the bandages came off, he looked like anyone else. His eye movements were normal, and without prior knowledge, it would be hard to tell his eye was impaired. His body had almost fully returned to its previous state.
In recent days, Lingshinlu seemed in better spirits, at least nearly as well as when Yuri often ran into him in Seringe before the injury.
Though late at night, his mood sank when his body grew dull, the pain wasn’t as severe as before, and he no longer woke thrashing during the night.
Instead, he developed mild insomnia and sometimes woke in the middle of the night, unable to return to sleep, wandering to the living room to sit in the dark for a while—a habit that lasted several days, if one could call it a habit. Then, since he was light sleeper, Yuri would quietly get up and follow, standing silently some distance behind him.
‘Ah... really... You want to be alone but I have to disturb you like this?’