Damn Lucky Bastard

He had been too flustered earlier. Bai Wei hadn’t lingered long enough to properly check Lucen’s breathing and pulse. Perhaps Lucen had simply collapsed suddenly, his heart temporarily ceasing to beat. For that reason, Bai Wei struggled to explain why, at the first sign of danger, he abandoned his unconscious husband and rushed to the backyard to destroy certain items.

If Lucen were to discover the “flower fertilizer”...

Just moments ago, Bai Wei had entertained fantasies of becoming an outlaw, but now his courage faltered. When he turned around, his eyes brimmed with tears, and he threw himself into Lucen’s arms.

“Honey!” he sobbed. “I thought you were dead!”

“I wanted to run outside and find the doctor who lives on the back street. But I forgot there’s no door in the backyard.” Bai Wei cried, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I saw you lying there, not breathing, and I thought you were going to die…”

His cries became choked, hiccups rising from his throat. Seeing Bai Wei so distraught, Lucen hastily patted his back, soothing him: “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. I’m not that easy to kill.”

Indeed, you’re not easy to kill, Bai Wei thought, rolling his eyes inwardly, though outwardly he continued to cry, “But I couldn’t even feel your pulse.”

“Well… I’ve had this condition since childhood. Whenever I’m startled, my heartbeat and breathing stop for a moment,” Lucen said, holding Bai Wei close and rubbing his nose. “Don’t worry so much. You’ll get used to it soon.”

“Oh…” Bai Wei sniffed.

Lucen gazed down at Bai Wei, whose tears glistened like dew on pear blossoms, and affectionately touched his nose. “Besides, why would I die so easily? I’ll stay with you for a lifetime. Remember what we said? Only death can separate us.”

Heavens, the corpse is speaking.

“Mm,” Bai Wei buried his head in Lucen’s chest, purposely shifting his angle so Lucen wouldn’t see the suspicious bag of “flower fertilizer.” “Until death do us part.”

Lucen hugged Bai Wei tightly, keeping his gaze away from the direction of the cellar. Seeing Bai Wei cooperate so well, Lucen was relieved.

Fortunately, Bai Wei hadn’t seen what was hidden in the cellar.

If Bai Wei were to see it… perhaps Lucen would have to use his ability to erase all Bai Wei’s memories.

In the past, he would have done so without hesitation. As long as Bai Wei stayed by his side, it didn’t matter if he became an amnesiac, a beautiful collectible. Lucen would keep him, just as he kept precious paintings, always maintaining Bai Wei’s present appearance.

But after last night… Lucen realized he no longer wanted to do that.

He didn’t want Bai Wei to lose his memories.

He settled Bai Wei back in the living room, only to encounter the neighbor, Mrs. Accountant, dropping by. She was energetic, her eyes darting about restlessly.

Bai Wei’s scalp tingled at the sight of her, as if his head might explode.

If Bai Wei were to rank the most annoying neighbor on this street, Mrs. Accountant would win hands down. She was a master of gossip, obsessed with controlling every rumor and movement on the street.

On Bai Wei’s very first day in Snow Mountain Town, she had probed for their names, occupations, reasons for moving, and why they didn’t stay in the city. She deduced their marital discord from discarded takeout boxes, noting their rare outings together. She always greeted Bai Wei, asking where he’d been, when he’d return, why he never went out with Lucen… Sometimes Bai Wei felt she was a terrifying detective.

And she was scarier than any detective, for at least a detective wouldn’t broadcast his family’s affairs everywhere. Bai Wei suspected Mrs. Accountant was the one who revealed their marital problems to the town detective—and he still believed it.

This tormented him, making him withdraw from society, refusing to meet anyone in Snow Mountain Town.

“Good morning, Bai Wei!” she said cheerfully, like a lively old magpie, forming a stark contrast with the gloom inside. “I saw Lucen buying food for you at the morning market. That’s how life should be—taking care of each other, early to bed and early to rise, very good! Don’t stay cooped up at home all day, it’ll ruin your health… Oh my, what’s happened? Why are your eyes so red from crying?”

Bai Wei jolted, knowing if he didn’t stop her, outrageous rumors would spread all over town. As he searched for an excuse, Lucen spoke up, “Ah Wei was tending flowers in the backyard and ran into a huge longhorn beetle, plus lots of red spiders.”

Bai Wei hadn’t expected Lucen to improvise an excuse so quickly. He glanced at him in surprise.

“Longhorn beetle! Red spiders! How can you let such pests infest your backyard? They’ll eat the leaves. I’ll have my old man come over and help you sort it out…”

She seemed more distraught than the couple, already turning to fetch her husband. Bai Wei was about to stand and stop her, but Lucen was quicker.

“Ma’am, I’ll go handle the broken flowerpot in the backyard. Could you stay here and keep Ah Wei company? I don’t think he wants to go back there right now.”

She turned back, which was good… Wait, the backyard?

Lucen mustn’t be allowed in the backyard!

But Bai Wei reacted too slowly; at that moment, Mrs. Accountant had already cornered him.

He looked thoroughly defeated. Lucen, on the other hand, smiled faintly.

Lucen rummaged through the storage room, finding a large lock.

Bai Wei’s arrival had made Lucen feel the cellar was no longer safe. The time had come to lock it up. Even if Bai Wei asked, Lucen could make up other reasons.

A bag of flower fertilizer lay on the cellar cover. Lucen opened the cellar, checked the dust at the entrance, confirming Bai Wei hadn’t opened it. He tossed the fertilizer inside and fastened the cellar door with the heavy lock.

Light filtered into the depths, and Lucen could vaguely see two humanoid forms standing inside.

Both looked exactly like Lucen. They were his “shells.”

Just as a snake sheds its skin every year, Lucen shed his shell every three months. Since moving to Snow Mountain Town, Lucen had shed twice. He stored the discarded shells in the cellar, intending to use them as medicinal material or for other purposes.

Within a month, a third would join them.

During the ten days before and after shedding, Lucen entered a state of heightened emotion, intense desire, irritability, and difficulty controlling himself. The last two times, he’d excused his absence by claiming he was out sourcing parts for the repair shop. He would shed quietly away from home, pack the shells in his car, and bring them to the cellar. Bai Wei hadn’t cared or asked where his husband had gone during those half-month absences.

But now, Lucen saw Bai Wei’s change.

Would leaving still be a good idea?

Lucen felt uneasy, though he didn’t know why.

Mrs. Accountant urged Lucen to go to work at the repair shop. Bai Wei, calm after his tears, sat on the sofa watching him. His cheeks were pale, his features handsome—a beautiful model.

“Work hard,” his petal-like lips said. After Lucen’s kiss, his lips weren’t pale pink anymore, but vibrant and fleshy red.

Lucen’s heart stirred. He wanted to bite him again.

“And come home early,” Mrs. Accountant winked, adding her own phrase.

Bai Wei inwardly frowned, but in front of Lucen, he remained obedient. Lucen nodded, “I’ll be home early.”

Lucen’s repair shop was on the outskirts, near a highway. Snow Mountain Town was isolated; few tourists came, and most residents were accustomed to fixing their own cars. Lucen rarely had business, but fortunately, he had learned how to falsify accounts.

Lucen had mysterious bank accounts at home and abroad, filled with savings from his mercenary days and treasures salvaged from the sea. Each month, he withdrew a sum as “income” and deposited it into the account Bai Wei used. Then he would jot random repair records in the shop’s ledger.

Such as “July 12, Naruto replaced a bumper.”

Or “May 9, Napoleon bought a bottle of windshield fluid.”

Or even “November 11, Bu Jingyun upgraded his car, adding a cylinder.”

Bai Wei didn’t check the accounts, nor did the tax bureau. If they did, they wouldn’t have a chance to return home intact.

Lucen used the repair shop to hide his past business. He had no interest in running it, and spent his days idly on the sofa. Though Snow Mountain Town was boring and his retired life unsatisfactory, it served as a place to hide his identity and nurse old wounds.

He hadn’t managed to stay in Bai Wei’s hometown, Qinghe, as the respected family head. But considering the internet’s claim that Snow Mountain Town was a picturesque “paradise,” Lucen felt living here was a success for any human. Thus, he’d spent the past half-year trying to live like a human in Snow Mountain Town.

But it was so dull, so monotonous. Lucen found himself increasingly unable to endure it. Lately, he searched for new places to live more frequently.

Today, however, he searched for something else.

“Is kissing normal?”

“What does it mean when it feels hard?”

“Want to attack when my wife’s head feels hot.”

“My wife smells so good, I want to touch him.”

“Sexual behavior.”

“Male-male sexual behavior.”

“Lucen bro!!”

As Lucen studied various images, the roar of a motorcycle reached the shop entrance. Yang Di leapt off his bike and barged in, shouting.

Yang Di was the leader of the town’s bikers, usually helping at his family shop. Since Lucen had secretly fixed a dropped part for him with his tentacles, Yang Di viewed Lucen as a god. Few visited Lucen’s shop, but Yang Di often came to chat.

Lucen now chose to mimic humanity. All his physiological impulses manifested as human ones. Recent events had left him confused. Yang Di claimed his emotional life was rich. Perhaps asking Yang Di would help.

Yang Di glanced at the closed browser, smirking, “Lucen bro, what are you looking at in broad daylight?”

“Just in time. I have a question for you,” Lucen said seriously. “Do you kiss your girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Yang Di was startled, then burst out laughing, “Bro, what do you think? Dating without kissing—isn’t that playing house?”

“What expression does she make?”

“What kind of expression… Bro, you don’t have some weird fetish, do you? That’s not something people talk about.” Yang Di grew wary.

“In truth, I’m caught in a whirlpool. I don’t understand why my wife reacts that way when we kiss. I want to know what normal people do. Before I met you, I searched online. Those comics and videos show people happy, not rejecting or attacking.”

Yang Di craned his neck, curious, “Bro, what’s going on?”

“Perhaps I should ask something more awkward,” Lucen said. “Have you ever…”

“Oh no! Never! How could we do that before marriage!” Yang Di stiffened, “People in our town are traditional!”

“Before marriage?” Lucen was taken aback, muttering, “We humans can’t do that before marriage? What happens if we do?”

“What do you mean ‘we humans,’ like I’m not human?” Yang Di retorted, blushing. “Anyway, I think it’s not good… What if she’s not the one you want to spend your life with?”

As they spoke, someone behind them cleared his throat.

It was Wei Lian, the town newspaper editor married for years, coming to pick up his car—one of Lucen’s few clients this year.

“Perhaps I should ask you,” Lucen murmured.

He dismissed Yang Di and invited the editor in. The editor, a wordsmith, quickly got to the point: “Do you feel there’s an irreconcilable conflict between you and your wife?”

Lucen insisted, “I think it can be resolved.”

The editor responded as he would to any stubborn interviewee, “Alright, so what’s the conflict? Bad relationship? Relax, lots of couples aren’t close. For example, my wife and I have been fighting lately…”

Lucen hesitated. He felt he still didn’t understand the human world enough, and only a scenario description would help the editor understand.

He briefly described the morning’s bread scene. Silence followed.

The editor was so silent that Lucen’s heart sank, certain he’d found his answer: “So my relationship with my wife is very bad?”

“No.” The editor removed his glasses, wiping the lenses and his tears. “I’m so jealous of you. Your wife is so playful. Are you showing off your happy marriage in front of someone who argues with his wife every day?”

So, that meant he and Bai Wei were loving!

Lucen felt as if a feather had gently brushed his heart. Surprised by the unfamiliar sensation, he asked the editor, who was about to leave in a jealous huff, “But at the best moment, he pushed me away. He was very resistant; I don’t understand why.”

After his explanation, the editor stared at him in silence.

“…So?” Lucen was at a loss.

“Normally, I’d say your relationship is bad. His resistance is normal,” the editor said slowly, “but considering how playful you were at breakfast… I think not.”

“Then what?”

“Well, maybe consider what you did last night?” the editor hinted.

“We did nothing last night.” Lucen looked honestly at this much weaker human.

In his past, crawling from the depths and as a mercenary, humans were just numbers—numbers easily crushed. Now, in this small town, these fragile humans had become his “stronger” emotional guides, and Lucen found it astonishing.

All thanks to Bai Wei. Thinking of him, Lucen felt another twinge of novelty, as if the world’s colors had suddenly shifted and a new, fantastical realm unfolded before him.

As he savored the feeling, the editor asked, “What about before? How long has it been since you… that? Did you leave him dissatisfied? Was it painful for him? Did he ever tell you?”

“We haven’t…” Lucen’s voice cut off, understanding suddenly dawning.

Black Harbor City—he remembered the night two and a half years ago when he was stranded there. Bai Wei definitely no longer recalled those events, nor did Lucen look as he did now. It was during his shedding period; something happened between him and Bai Wei… oh, he recalled Bai Wei was in pain, those pale legs thrashing on the sheets like a stranded fish. It was one night, and afterwards Bai Wei moved away from Black Harbor City. Their reunification came when Lucen assumed the role of Bai Wei’s “fiancé,” and by coincidence, recognized his “fiancée” as Bai Wei from Black Harbor City.

Also, Lucen glanced at Yang Di.

It had been before marriage.

Lucen swallowed his words. The editor believed he’d guessed correctly, patting Lucen’s shoulder and earnestly urging him to reflect and find some instructional material to hone his skills. Lucen lost all desire to run the shop or speak. Once a force in the sea and on land, he now felt weak and inadequate before these humans.

Lucen had always hated this feeling. Now, he just wanted to learn.

Until a comment brightened his mood.

“Whatever the case, your wife must love you very much. He’s willing to play that bread game with you. My god, after two years of marriage, Minmin and I never play those games!” the editor said as he left. “Your wife acts so cold, but in private he’s so playful with you. You lucky devil!”

Lucky devil!

After driving everyone out, Lucen propped his chin in his hand. He stared at the ledger filled with Naruto, Luffy, and Bu Jingyun, and at the comics on his computer screen. His expression shifted between confusion, smile, and strange unease. At last, he grew solemn, beginning to ponder.

Marriage wasn’t just a way to collect humans. It meant Bai Wei was his wife. Not an art piece displayed for daily admiration. They were meant to interact, care for each other, and find joy together.

Bai Wei was his wife! Wife means spouse; spouse means wife. His disguised identity’s wife was also his wife, so Bai Wei was wife—his spouse.

That explained why Bai Wei was both similar to and different from an art piece. Lucen wanted to collect Bai Wei, collect him alone, and elope with him from that oppressive home—despite his desire to inherit Bai Wei’s grandfather’s estate.

But wife… How should he treat his wife?

How should they interact, share feelings?

Meanwhile, Bai Wei finally escaped Mrs. Accountant’s clutches.

After promising to tutor her children, he managed to politely see her off, then rushed to the backyard to deal with the bag of “flower fertilizer.”

Yet the fertilizer was no longer where it should be!

Did Lucen take it? Had he found something and sent it for testing? Cold sweat dripped from Bai Wei’s forehead. He began to consider another possibility.

For example, the lock on the cellar.

Lucen had suddenly locked the cellar. What secrets did it hide?

Was his “flower fertilizer” placed there as well?

Before he could murder Lucen, Bai Wei had one more task—steal the cellar key. Normal people kept keys in their clothes pockets; Bai Wei needed to get Lucen’s entire outfit when he returned home, leaving him no chance to hide the key.

In that instant, Bai Wei formed his plan.

Take the key, take the wallet, lock the door, drive off—all in one go. Bai Wei sped to the town’s clothing store. Before entering, his scalp tingled.

His stomach churned, his whole body resisting entering the bustling place.

It all stemmed from that news article.

Perhaps celebrities and models no longer satisfied the endless thirst for gossip; journalists began seeking topics among ordinary people. Recently, a popular drama and lifestyle blogger mentioned his college literary competition experience on a talk show, describing how it struck him deeply.

This blogger, once known online for his “down-to-earth” and “hardworking” persona, later gained fame with satirical sketches about bosses and schools. He became a model for the “ordinary person’s success through effort.” His lament, “That competition made me feel rejected by society,” drew sympathy, and soon netizens investigated the event.

They soon discovered the competition’s winner was a sixteen-year-old boy—so young, besting the college-aged blogger, and possessing undeniable beauty even in blurry photos. Opportunistic media smelled business and swarmed in. The boy quickly gained unwanted fame.

That boy was Bai Wei himself.

In just three days, he was idolized, then torn down even faster. Some discovered his wealthy background, questioned the legitimacy of his award, or began hating the rich. Others noted his adult works won prizes but were obscure, launching debates about “whether art should be accessible.” Some claimed the award was bought by Bai Wei’s family, that he was vain, always networking, and even the initial idolization was manufactured.

Others compared his situation to the blogger’s. Bai Wei, after graduating from a prestigious school, had seemingly vanished, producing no new works—he’d once been a privileged, talented child. Meanwhile, the blogger, “clumsy,” “hardworking,” “relatable,” had finally emerged after seven years of struggle. Many made videos declaring, “What values does our era need?” Others called Bai Wei a “lost prodigy,” ruined by vanity, superficiality, and education.

The rumors peaked when word spread that Bai Wei had fallen out with his family, eloped with his partner, and was hiding in some small town. Curiosity soared. One journalist even tracked Bai Wei’s location, traveling thousands of miles to Snow Mountain Town for an interview.

He didn’t meet Bai Wei directly, but interviewed locals, reporting Bai Wei’s “unhappy marriage” and fabricating stories about his disdain for the town.

The journalist’s lengthy article made many in Snow Mountain Town aware they had a “writer with marital troubles,” while outsiders believed Bai Wei was a prodigy unable to accept mediocrity, on the verge of breakdown. In stark contrast, the blogger’s life was happy; he’d recently “won over his idol,” dating a wealthy, beautiful girlfriend, their relationship sweet and stable on social media.

No more journalists came to Snow Mountain Town. Bai Wei suspected his grandfather had pressured them, but not only did it increase his grandfather’s disappointment, it ruined Bai Wei’s life in Snow Mountain Town—or so he believed.

After being recognized by the bookstore owner as the rumored “writer,” Bai Wei rarely left home.

He hated the look of recognition in others’ eyes. He felt miserable, believing nowhere would ever be better, unless he could escape the world entirely.

Now, to murder Lucen, he had to enter the commercial district he’d avoided for so long.

The clothing store owner was surprised to see him, “Oh, Bai Wei!”

Last time he’d come was just after moving in… No wonder she remembered him; someone as striking as Bai Wei was unforgettable after one meeting.

Her enthusiastic greeting didn’t comfort Bai Wei—on the contrary, it felt like sitting on a bed of nails. Bai Wei clutched his wallet, scanning the store, hearing the owner and clerk chatting behind him. Their voices buzzed like a fan.

He couldn’t hear their words, but instinct made him strain to catch the frequency.

Bai Wei couldn’t bear it, determined to hurry, turning to the owner, “I want to buy a set of clothes for my husband—a complete set.”

“What makes you suddenly want to buy clothes for your husband?” she was shocked to be interrupted.

Bai Wei knew his behavior was odd. But he had no choice, eyes downcast, “Half a month ago was our first wedding anniversary. I was too busy then and forgot to buy him a gift…”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” the owner sympathized. “But men—just coax them, and they won’t care. So, what do you want?”

Bai Wei had no desire to pick clothes for Lucen, but the thought of Lucen in ugly attire beside him was unbearable. So he said, “The most expensive. Complete set—shirt, jacket, trousers, belt, tie, socks, wallet…”

He hesitated at the last item, but pushed through: “And underwear.”

“And underwear?”

Bai Wei knew the town’s rumors would gain another tale. Yet the owner only looked at him, her gaze turning suggestive, “Ah, such possessiveness~”

Bai Wei: …

He simply couldn’t dismiss the possibility that Lucen might hide the key in his underwear, so why that look? Bai Wei felt his forehead tense, forcing himself to imagine leaving town with Lucen’s corpse and the insurance payout, finally calming himself.

By then, these whispering townsfolk would be nothing but dust in his past.

But the owner’s chuckle was gentle, even kind. She said, “Bai Wei darling, what’s your husband’s size?”

Bai Wei was sure she’d heard the rumors, yet she asked nothing, “Take the largest.”

“All the largest sizes?” she teased.

“…Yes!”

Bai Wei thought, if Lucen’s six-foot-four frame couldn’t fit the largest sizes, he might as well die in the repair shop.

Impatient, he sat on the sofa waiting. Even so, his upbringing made his posture flawless. The clerk peeked at him from behind the counter, whispering, “I always thought Bai Wei was a nobleman out of place in Snow Mountain Town. If he doesn’t fit in, it’s understandable.”

But the owner didn’t respond, only giggling, “Next door is the night shop; I’ll buy some freebies from them.”

Clerk: ?

“Sizes should be the largest,” the owner winked.

Bai Wei didn’t care what they gifted him, only that they took longer than he expected. He had to get home before Lucen, so he could get Lucen’s clothes.

Finally, the owner returned with a pile of bags.

Bai Wei glanced through them, confirming everything he needed was there. The owner pointed to a large pink-and-black bag, “That’s your freebie~”

“Thank you,” Bai Wei replied, not caring what it was.

It would be tossed aside anyway.

The owner said, “Some are the largest, two are your size.”

Bai Wei ignored the implication, “Alright, thank you.”

He pulled out Lucen’s card from his wallet, realizing he’d grabbed the wrong one—the joint card was in the grocery bag. The one in the wallet belonged solely to Lucen.

Lucen had said to use this card for expensive items. Bai Wei tried the joint card’s password—their wedding (elopement) anniversary.

Incorrect password.

Bai Wei had to call Lucen. Unexpectedly, Lucen answered immediately, as if he’d been waiting.

“Darling, I’ll be home soon,” Lucen said on the other end.

Wasn’t there an hour and a half left in his shift? Why was he coming home early?

“No, no!” Bai Wei blurted, then quickly corrected himself. Glancing at the owner, he moved to a corner and whispered, “I’m in the commercial district, come pick me up here.”

It seemed a plausible reason.

Lucen asked, “Didn’t you drive? There’s another car at home.”

Damn him for such a good memory. Bai Wei forced his voice soft, “No, I want you to pick me up.”

He was mortified by his own words.

But Lucen’s low laugh came through. He sounded pleased, “Alright.”

“Wait, don’t hang up,” Bai Wei stopped him. “I’m using your card—the silver one… What’s the password? I tried our anniversary, it didn’t work.”

Lucen replied, “Try the day we first met?”

Bai Wei tried the date. The owner kept smiling at him, and Bai Wei clenched his fingers.

The POS machine signaled another failure. Bai Wei felt even more uncomfortable.

“Still not right… Why don’t you get a credit card? It’d be easier. You always use a debit card, making me enter the wrong password twice.” Bai Wei complained, unable to believe he’d said it.

It sounded like a pout… Maybe he’d been pretending so much lately his brain was malfunctioning.

“Still not right?” Lucen muttered, “No, don’t use your card yet, let me think… Oh, it’s that date. Try that date.”

He recited six digits. Bai Wei entered them, feeling the date was familiar.

Correct password.

As the POS machine spat out a receipt, Bai Wei froze.

He suddenly realized what that date meant to him.

Three years ago, in a motel on the outskirts of Black Harbor City. Enduring pain, Bai Wei rode atop a stranger, choking him fiercely.

That day, he killed a stranger. Panicked, he fled the city he’d planned to settle in for years, returning to the capital.

From that day onward, his life was forever changed.