3 Counting Heartbeats to Sleep

This night was one full of surprises for Lucen. Bai Wei greeted him at the entrance, cooked for him, and together they lay on the sofa watching television. Bai Wei curled up in his arms, occasionally raising his head to look at him. He cared so much, as if even his gaze would not leave Lucen for a moment.

Just like a clingy kitten.

Perhaps this was the daily life meant for human couples. Lucen did not want Bai Wei to think he was strange, and so he reciprocated with equal enthusiasm. Yet, in his heart, there lingered an odd feeling, a suspicion that would not dissipate.

Lucen wondered if all of this was real, questioned whether, at this moment, he ought to feel “happy” as a human. If so, he would have finally conquered the curse placed upon him by others, able at last to laugh and mock their graves. But, evidently, he felt no strong sense of happiness now. What he felt more intensely was another sensation—like intuition warning him of something.

Why would he think this way?

He had assumed another’s identity, stolen Bai Wei, a human, and returned him the semblance of a proper family. He ought to be happy. Hadn’t he, from the day he left the mercenary corps, vowed to live as a normal human, wash his hands of violence, and possess a happy family?

To overcome the prejudice of humanity, to prove that even as a monster, he could attain the most enviable human life without bloodshed, to mock his former enemies...

This night should have been happy and unexpected—Lucen told himself so, tried to believe it.

But for Bai Wei, the night was altogether different.

Unexpected, but not happy.

Two to three hours... Four hours had already passed.

Why was Lucen still alive?

That night, Bai Wei lay beside Lucen to sleep. Their bed was large, but they never had the chance for any “activities” upon it. Bai Wei was cold in matters of intimacy and did not know if Lucen was likewise. Even so, Bai Wei always lay in the corner of the bed, separated by an invisible boundary, as if they were adversaries.

Now, however, he was pressed tightly against Lucen.

“Goodnight, my love,” Lucen said as he turned off the light.

“Goodnight, husband,” Bai Wei replied.

No matter how many times he spoke the word, it always brought Bai Wei a strong sense of shame. Thankfully, only one night remained.

Bai Wei leaned against Lucen. Not snoring, barely even a sound of breathing—this was one of Lucen’s few merits as far as Bai Wei was concerned. Yet now it was Bai Wei’s greatest trouble.

In the quiet of night, the heartbeat became impossibly clear. Bai Wei closed his eyes, pretending to sleep, silently counting Lucen’s heartbeats.

One, two, three...

His endurance had always been remarkable.

Finally, at midnight, Bai Wei heard the heart stop.

At that moment, relief washed over him, mingled with confusion.

Now was not the time for confusion. He and Lucen were merely outsiders in this small town; who would notice their arrival or departure? He would use the excuse of a wedding anniversary trip, take Lucen away from here. The surrounding mountains were deep; it would be easy to dispose of Lucen. Or he could bring Lucen back to Naples—after all, Lucen’s first burial was there.

But where would he go afterward, after ridding himself of his resurrected husband?

“To the Northern Capital, or back to Blackport,” he told himself. “The icy Northern Capital, the chaotic Blackport, those are my places.”

He lay still, eyes closed. After counting for two minutes, Bai Wei was about to sit up when—

The person beside him sat up!

Bai Wei could hardly believe his ears. Lucen sat up from the bed, clutched his stomach, and stumbled into the bathroom. Bai Wei heard water running and the sounds of washing, lasting over ten minutes.

Was Lucen suffering from diarrhea? Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

Bai Wei climbed down from the bed. At that moment, he seemed to catch a strange scent again... just like the smell he had encountered in Naples when Lucen was killed by stray bullets, when Lucen was buried in the coffin, the “lifelike” corpse giving off a scent. Deep, mysterious, like lavender floating in seawater.

Back then, looking at the coffin buried beneath the soil, Bai Wei told himself that since Lucen was dead, all deception and concealment ought to be wiped clean. He changed into pure black clothes, wore a black veil, and left Naples, only to find Lucen at the airport. Later, when he consulted a doctor, the doctor said,

“There are cases of people ‘coming back to life.’ Perhaps your friend was merely in a state of suspended animation. When he awoke, he left the coffin and found you. Shouldn’t you celebrate his efforts?”

But the coffin was nailed shut... Afterwards, Bai Wei never had the chance to return to Naples, nor to check the coffin.

Now, that scent of lavender-laden seawater returned.

The last time he smelled it, he had wept uncontrollably by the coffin. Now, standing there, watching the shadow of his “husband” come out of the bathroom, Bai Wei could not move.

Lucen, backlit and his features unclear, bent down and cupped Bai Wei’s face: “Why did you get out of bed?”

That thick aroma made Bai Wei dizzy, and he spoke his thoughts without realizing: “I wanted to see how you were.”

The man’s rough thumb rubbed his cheek. “Didn’t sleep well? What are you thinking?”

His voice turned gentle, elegant, full of seduction.

Bai Wei replied, “I… was counting your heartbeat.”

The thumb paused for a moment. The man embraced him with utter control, softly asked, “Why were you watching me all night?”

Bai Wei said, “I didn’t want you out of my sight…”

The lavender aroma was so strong it blurred Bai Wei’s consciousness. All his words came from his heart. At that moment, the scent vanished.

It was replaced by the man’s powerful embrace, as if he wanted to meld Bai Wei into his bones. Bai Wei had always had a model’s physique, tall and striking, rarely meeting someone taller than himself. Yet Lucen was a head taller, and when he held Bai Wei tightly, it was like holding a beautiful doll; every joint under Lucen’s control. If Lucen wished, Bai Wei could be made to pose any way he liked.

Now, Bai Wei could barely breathe. The overwhelmingly dominant posture left him immobile, Lucen’s scent permeating every inch of his bones. He wanted to push him away, but his hands were powerless. Just then, he heard Lucen’s voice.

“Sorry, that was an instinctive response to perceived threat. I won’t use that on you again... hmm. Seems I was overthinking.”

Lucen spoke.

But Bai Wei didn’t hear it; he was truly suffocating, pounding Lucen’s back with all his strength.

Fortunately, Lucen finally released him. He looked at Bai Wei’s hands in surprise, “Were you comforting me, soothing me?”

Bai Wei gasped for air. When his senses returned, Lucen was already carrying him. He remembered this posture was commonly referred to as the “princess carry.” In that moment, fear struck him.

No one had ever dared treat him this way!

Bai Wei had grown up withdrawn and solitary. His character was aloof and proud, his upbringing strict, emotions difficult for him to understand. He had few friends, and fewer still dared joke with him. In adulthood, many admired him, mostly women, some men.

His admirers only dared to watch from afar, rarely pursuing him fervently. Even his childhood friend joked, “Since the day I saw you, at ten years old, bringing home animal corpses to make specimens, I suspected you’d grow up to be a serial killer.”

Thus, being embraced so intimately, being carried, was a first for him.

Bai Wei clung to Lucen’s pajamas, body stiff and curled up, suspecting he would be thrown out the window. But Lucen, seeing Bai Wei so curled up, only felt he was more dependent, more pitiful than usual.

He had watched Lucen all night, secretly counted his heartbeat, and rushed down when Lucen got out of bed, worried about his stomachache, or perhaps afraid Lucen was messaging someone else.

Bai Wei was like an innocent, pure-hearted girl. Such behavior was endearing, almost normal.

Instinct made Lucen want to know everything about Bai Wei. Like an octopus curling into a bottle, he wanted to curl into Bai Wei’s body. So he hugged Bai Wei tightly, as he had once hugged his collections. But, clearly, he forgot Bai Wei, like all humans, needed to breathe. Now, Bai Wei’s chest heaving, the tearful red corners of his eyes—evidence of oxygen deprivation.

Lucen realized he quite liked Bai Wei’s current appearance—so lively, so adorable. The trembling lashes when he spoke, the reddened ears when he called him husband, the bright tongue sipping soup, the pale cheeks stained with tears, and the bullied look.

And, for the first time, Lucen knew how much Bai Wei liked him.

Lucen didn’t mind playing out the perfect family scenario more thoroughly. The matter of moving from Snow Mountain Town could wait. From now on, he would devote himself to learning to play the good husband... He remembered Bai Wei saying at dinner that others saw their family as unhappy, which made Bai Wei sad, and the townspeople found them odd; Bai Wei had even considered leaving him.

Lucen found himself extremely resistant to the idea of Bai Wei leaving—partly from possessiveness of his collection, partly because, after tonight, a new kind of feeling seemed to have arisen in his heart. If being a good husband made Bai Wei happy and kept him from leaving, Lucen resolved to do so—and to do it better than anyone else.

And, the townspeople’s suspicion about their family would hasten their doubts about his true identity. A sufficiently happy family should reduce suspicion. Lucen didn’t mind moving with Bai Wei, but he didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes in the next place. Perhaps this could be practice.

Bai Wei was carried back to bed. Their posture became less restrained. Lucen lay on his side facing Bai Wei, breathing against the back of his neck, Bai Wei like a large plush toy wedged seamlessly between Lucen and the covers.

It made his scalp tingle.

Lucen’s breath, the sensitive skin at his nape, the pose where any movement would be noticed—everything made Bai Wei anxious. He had to distract himself, for instance—why hadn’t Lucen died?

—The medicine must have expired.

This was the conclusion Bai Wei came to the next morning, after a sleepless night.

After dawn, he couldn’t resist his biological clock, drifted into a brief nap, then woke to find Lucen gone. Bai Wei glanced at the alarm clock.

Nine-thirty in the morning.

Lucen’s absence was normal. Since moving to Snow Mountain Town half a year ago, Lucen had opened a car repair shop and went to work between eight-thirty and nine. They rarely saw each other at breakfast. Bai Wei always rose earlier, locking himself in the study to write after breakfast. Their schedules diverged accordingly. At this hour, Lucen should be at his shop.

The bed was messy. Bai Wei tidied it up, collected the hair they’d shed overnight from the pillow. Heading to the bathroom, he found something intolerable.

Water stains on the sink, on the floor, on the mirror.

Clearly, Lucen hadn’t cleaned up!

Clearly, Bai Wei needed a new method to kill Lucen. Yesterday’s medicine had failed. He’d need to go out, dispose of the expired drugs, and procure new tools. But descending the stairs, Bai Wei began to doubt his eyes.

On the dining table sat a bouquet of yellow and white chrysanthemums, a basket of bread, a pot of fresh milk, and, at the stove, Lucen holding a pan and eggs.

Lucen wore the pink apron Bai Wei had worn yesterday. He was smiling as usual, looking at Bai Wei in loungewear, “Good morning.”

All of this was so abnormal Bai Wei shivered.

“Darling, sit at the table, I’ll fry you an egg,” Lucen said, revealing the tablet behind him. On screen, the heroine was frying eggs for the hero.

“Darling?”

Lucen turned his head, “My love, do you dislike that name?”

Bai Wei: ...

He sat at the table, feeling everything was too strange. Lucen cracked eggs into the pan, fried them, even hummed commercials, smiling as he played the good husband. Bai Wei glanced at the bread, then the milk—suddenly, the scene felt familiar.

Just like when he poisoned Lucen yesterday.

Wait.

Was there any suspicious sediment in this pot of milk?

He entered the kitchen, kept watch on Lucen’s movements—fried two eggs, flipped them, didn’t add anything suspicious. He took two glass cups from the cabinet, choosing random ones from the inside, not the outside.

When he ran the faucet to rinse the glasses, Bai Wei hesitated. The tap looked fine, no poison in the filter. But he ultimately grabbed unopened bottled water and used it to clean the cups.

He casually asked, “Where did the milk and bread on the table come from?”

“I saw you still sleeping when I woke early, so I went to the market. They’re fresh,” Lucen said, quite pleased. “I bought you flowers too—morning flowers are the best for breakfast. Do you like them?”

His gray-blue eyes watched Bai Wei.

—Those are for graves, you fool!

“I like them very much,” Bai Wei said, expressionless.

Lucen placed the pan on the flame, opened his arms to hug Bai Wei. When oily hands embraced him, Bai Wei screamed silently. But seeing Lucen’s inquisitive gaze, Bai Wei managed a forced smile.

“My love, do you dislike this?” Lucen asked.

“No… I’m happy,” Bai Wei replied.

“You don’t look happy,” Lucen stared at him. “Since you came down, you’ve seemed unhappy. I saw you shaking the milk just now. Are you worried about something? Like, is there something in it?”

Feeling tested, Bai Wei’s hackles nearly rose.

He had to bury his head in Lucen’s chest; the apron’s oily scent made him sigh in despair. Still, he said aloud, “Husband, today isn’t the weekend. I was thinking, if you don’t go to the shop, what if a customer comes?”

The word “husband” slipped from Bai Wei’s lips, soft and lingering. He felt Lucen’s chest muscles stiffen beneath his head. Lucen patted his hair—God, Lucen dared touch his hair with that hand—casually replied, “Don’t worry, nobody comes to the shop anyway.”

Nobody comes? Bai Wei immediately looked up, puzzled.

Bai Wei had been spoiled since childhood, never needing to labor or know the price of grain. He had no idea what kind of income a car repair shop in a town like this could bring. At first, he’d had doubts, but Lucen brought home enough money each month to quell them—and he’d never cared much about Lucen’s affairs. The sum was generous, enough for an investment manager’s salary, maybe small business was lucrative.

But Lucen claimed there were no customers?

“Oh, I mean these days,” Lucen muddled, “last night you said we should start over, so I figured the shop could wait a bit, it’s more important we spend time together.”

Both wanted to move past the topic, so the kitchen atmosphere became harmonious. Lucen placed two fried eggs before himself and Bai Wei, Bai Wei set out two glasses of milk for each. They sat on opposite sides of the chrysanthemums, smiling at each other.

It was a morning fit for an advertisement. Both were pleased with their performance.

“Husband, you eat first,” Bai Wei said.

“Baby, you eat first,” Lucen replied.

Three rounds later, Bai Wei lowered his lashes, pitifully said, “Husband, my appetite is poor. I can only eat when I see you enjoying your food.”

Lucen then took a sip of milk, a bite of egg. As his hand reached for bread, Bai Wei quickly snatched the piece Lucen was about to eat.

“Husband.” He smiled at Lucen, “Shall we share? You take a bite, then I take a bite, okay?”

“What?” Lucen didn’t understand.

Bai Wei held the bread to Lucen’s mouth, “Husband, take a bite, ah—”

Lucen stared strangely, took a bite.

Good, not poisoned. But Bai Wei remained cautious. What if the other side was poisoned?

He opened his mouth, bit the bread from the side Lucen had eaten. Lucen watched his bright tongue and soft mouth, fell silent.

The bread was crisp and fragrant, clearly bought fresh that morning. Yet Bai Wei, always cautious, feared Lucen had applied poison in stripes. He handed the bread to Lucen, “Husband, take another bite.”

The bitten edge was clear, marked by Bai Wei’s lips. Lucen gazed at the snowy white margin, recalling the many posters of couples kissing he’d seen in human society.

He’d never understood why humans touched each other with their eating mouths, even swallowing each other’s tongues.

But now, seeing the bread, he suddenly comprehended the impulse.

He wanted to... kiss Bai Wei’s lips.

It seemed perfectly reasonable. Lucen thought, after all, they were married.

He seemed to forget his intention to play the good husband that morning.

Lucen took a second bite. As he held the bread, trying to discern the taste of Bai Wei’s lips and mouth, Bai Wei finally relaxed.

Apparently, this bread was not poisoned. Bai Wei drank the milk Lucen had already tested.

This bread wasn’t poisoned, but that didn’t mean all the bread was safe. Bai Wei thought so, not realizing Lucen was staring at the white milk stain at Bai Wei’s lips. Lucen wished Bai Wei would hand him the bread with those milky, moist lips for another bite, but Bai Wei did not understand his desire.

He finished the bread.

When facing the second piece, Bai Wei maintained caution. As he picked up the bread, Lucen said, “My love, why don’t you take the first bite of this one?”