An Youyu had told no one that he could hear voices from the past inside old objects.
Instead, relying on those voices, he had done something rather dishonorable.
During the first days after he was rescued, An Youyu was mostly delirious; on the rare occasions he woke, he could only twitch his fingers and utter a few slurred words.
Yet within those brief moments of lucidity, he had intentionally revealed a few of A'Man's minor habits.
Once, he hummed a short tune without words.
That was the melody A'Man loved to hum most back when he used to sit outside the cabin door, waiting for Ning Cang to return from the sea.
He had never claimed to be A'Man. Such a lie would fall apart at the slightest touch, and there was no need to say it anyway; all he needed to do was lay these coincidences before Ning Cang.
As for the rest, Ning Cang's mind would do the work for him.
A man who had spent two years searching for his younger brother could not help but think—
What if?
Scheming against his savior was certainly nothing to boast about.
But back then, An Youyu could not afford to care.
In those first few days after being fished out, his newly regrown body had been constantly decaying.
At his worst, he did not open his eyes for half a day. Ning Cang could not feel his breath and had even pulled out the old canvas meant for wrapping corpses.
Even when awake, he could not leave that bed.
He needed to be fed water, helped to turn over, and sometimes could barely catch his breath; if Ning Cang and his wife refrained from opening the cabin door for even a single day, he might have quietly died in the bed A'Man had left behind.
Every time he drifted into unconsciousness, he did not know if he would ever open his eyes again.
The Yan Clan was still in Zijing Anchorage.
The blood debts for his parents and Salted Fish Float-Commune had not been settled in the slightest.
He could not die like this.
Yet back then, he had nothing in his hands.
The only thing he could grasp was Ning Cang's lingering longing for A'Man.
For every day longer Ning Cang refused to let go, An Youyu could drink one more gulp of water, eat one more mouthful of food, and wait one more day for his body to recover.
All he had sought back then was to survive.
...
The argument next door had not ended yet.
“While the black flag is still hanging, you cannot go out. Two years ago you also said you would only cast two nets—and what happened after?”
“A'Man pushed you onto the boat not so you would go down there after him.”
“If something happens to you, what am I supposed to tell our two children?”
Another silence fell.
“...Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“Until the black flag is taken down, I won't go out.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It's a promise.”
The cupboard door rattled again.
“Break off half an algae cake. Don't touch the rest; the kids still need to eat tomorrow morning.”
“What about the soup?”
“Take it over.”
Ning Cang did not seem to move.
“What are you standing there for?”
“When I made it last night, I added an extra ladle of water. It was meant for him all along.”
“Hm?”
“Hurry up and go.”
Zheng Azhu paused.
“When it gets cold, it's full of fishiness. A'Man refused to drink it back then.”
...
The door to the adjoining cabin opened.
Footsteps trod across the icy iron corridor, coming toward his room.
An Youyu lifted the old blanket and pushed himself up by the bed frame.
Before, when his body could not move, he had no choice.
Now that he could use his limbs, continuing to lie here while Ning Cang's family tightened their belts to feed him was no longer acceptable.
When his feet touched the floor, a wave of weakness instantly washed through his legs.
He steadied himself against the cabin wall, waited for the dizziness to pass, and slowly shuffled toward the door.
In just a few steps, cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
The footsteps outside stopped.
An Youyu released his grip on the wall just in time.
The cabin door was pushed open.
Freezing wind, carrying specks of ice, swept inside.
Ning Cang stood at the doorway holding a food box. Catching sight of him, Ning Cang froze completely in astonishment.
“How did you get out of bed?”
Just as An Youyu was about to speak, his knees buckled.
Ning Cang quickly freed a hand and grabbed his arm.
“Think you're tough now, do you? Running to the door the moment you can stand—get back inside.”
Though scolding him, Ning Cang could not help but smile.
“I knew you were a tough kid.”
“Those folks outside said every day that you wouldn't survive three days. Once your legs are steady, walk out there yourself and show them.”
An Youyu stopped forcing himself and used Ning Cang's support to sit back down by the edge of the bed.
Ning Cang set the food box on his lap.
As soon as the lid was lifted, steam from fish soup drifted out, revealing half a black algae cake inside as well.
“Brother Ning.”
“Hm?”
“I'm not A'Man.”
“I know.”
An Youyu was stunned.
Ning Cang pushed the fish soup toward him.
“Your name is An Youyu.”
“I was the one who asked for your name—how could I not know?”
“But I—”
“Eat your food.”
Ning Cang did not let him finish.
An Youyu wanted to speak again, but Ning Cang had already turned to walk out.
Reaching the door, he turned back to add one last word of advice:
“Drink the soup first.”
“It gets real fishy once it goes cold.”
The cabin door was pulled shut from the outside.
The sound of the wind was sealed once more behind the iron sheet.
An Youyu sat at the edge of the bed without moving for a long time.
Until his stomach rumbled once more.
Only then did he lower his head and take a sip of the soup.
It was not fishy at all.
It was remarkably savory.
Gulp after gulp, he quickly drank it clean.
Thump.
A sudden throb pulsed at the back of his head.
The dead aperture, which he had been unable to actively reach for a whole month, reappeared in his consciousness once again.
The faint black-and-white light, long dormant, began to rotate anew.
...
Rate on N.U.
