I sent it to the former Black Tower; they said it’s an unrecorded species.

That evening, the‌⁠​​⁠​⁠‍‍​‍‍⁠​​⁠​⁠‍​⁠‌‌​ top floor of the Spire was lively for the first time in a long while.

A snow-white tablecloth was spread over the long table, and An Ning smoothed out a table runner with golden patterns, placing classical and elegant candlesticks in a very ceremonial manner. The meal was simple: just bread and red wine.

Zhao Ran, who had just finished a concert, curled up in his chair listlessly. “If I’d known we were eating this, I shouldn’t have come at all.”

“The taste is very good,” An Yu recommended earnestly. “Don’t just drink the wine.”

“Too sweet, not interested.”

He had truly become more arrogant after returning to being a idol. An Yu thought to himself that Ling Qiu was right again: if someone is pampered too much, it’s hard for them not to turn bad.

Despite his internal grumbling, An Yu, as the bakery owner, diligently took the cinnamon roll with the most filling from the tray and placed it on Zhao Ran’s plate. “Try it. If it’s good, post it on Weibo. You don’t have to say anything, just post a picture and tag Corner Bakery.”

Zhao Ran let out a cold laugh. “I can hear the abacus clicking in your stomach from here.”

The idol truly didn’t like bread; no amount of persuasion worked. An Yu watched him drink by himself while staring at the snowfields outside that were melting day by day. Finally giving up, An Yu took several fierce bites of his own cinnamon roll, chewing the nuts that were baked until they were crisp and oily while sending a message to Xu Shanshan.

=For marketing the new product, let’s look for Jiang Xiao instead.

Xu Shanshan replied instantly.

-Why? Boss, didn’t you say you went through life and death with the idol? Were you just bragging?

– It’s true.

-Then why won’t he help with a bit of promotion?

An Yu thought seriously for a moment.

-I see life and death as everything; he sees life and death as dirt.

Xu Shanshan had a sudden realization.

-No wonder he’s a idol. Boss, you have no class.

An Yu tucked away his phone gloomily, continuing to savor the soft, sweet bread in his mouth. He heard Qin Zhilu speak casually to Zhao Ran: “Drinking on an empty stomach… Didn’t he used to punish you for that?”

Before An Yu could even process the meaning of those words, he caught a glimpse of Zhao Ran putting down the legs he had curled up in the chair. He swirled his wine glass, drained the remaining red wine in one gulp, and chuckled. “The man has already turned to ash. Who cares about that crap anymore?”

Even the way the idol swore was clear and pleasant to the ear. An Yu glanced over; Zhao Ran had put down his glass and casually picked up the bread from his plate. He didn’t even look at it closely, just tore it into pieces with his hand and fed it into his mouth, ignoring the nut fragments scattering all over the floor, simply chewing while looking out the window.

“It’s snowing.” Zhao Ran’s gaze suddenly drifted for a moment.

The words caused exclamations all around.

“Really!”

“It’s a snow we haven’t seen in a long time…”

“So this is what normal snow looks like…”

Normal snow. It had nothing to do with life, death, fortune, or calamity; nothing to do with spacetime or causality. It was soft and sandy, embracing the world in a light flurry. Lacking the silent, biting cold of the past, it actually seemed warm.

After dropping that light remark, Zhao Ran fell silent, looking toward a distant direction outside the window—

The direction of the Swamp.

The bread in his hand was finished, so he casually grabbed another and continued breaking it into his mouth.

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-“Melancholy roses and spicy cinnamon; the passing winter and the sweetness in hand. I don’t know what Zhao Ran is thinking, but I want to taste that same piece of bread right now.”

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An Yu immediately argued, unwilling to give in: “Do you really need two million? Zhu Tao said you just bought a whole villa in the center of the Main City.”

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“A black tiger.” Zhao Ran lifted his eyelids to glance at him, his red lips curling into a teasing smile. “The people from the former Black Tower picked the fiercest one for me after much searching. Just feeding it costs five figures a day. Want to come and pet it?”

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He had once been a traitor to humanity, and also a true savior. Now that he was back to being himself, he was still just a lonely fellow sitting quietly in a corner gnawing on bread. He was used to observing, even if none of it concerned him.

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And An Ning…

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But whenever they were in a desperate situation, the one who could show a body full of thorns, who would fly high with all his might, struggling into the cold wind, who would rather be burned into a wisp of dry smoke than ever turn back, that was An. It was always only An.

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A very small movement, a flash of emotion that disappeared in an instant. Yet An Yu suddenly felt a sense of grounding.

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An Ning was startled, then lowered his eyes and smiled. It was a very un-peaceful smile, conveying a message that seemed understood only between him and An Yu.

“Making eyes at each other.”

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Qin Zhilu didn’t care at all. He didn’t let An Yu go, continuing to deepen the kiss until An Yu was out of breath, his hands clutching and wrinkling the front of the Commander’s shirt into a mess. The corners of An Yu’s lips and eyes were wet, and a whimpering sound seemed to come from his throat.

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An Yu, his head spinning from the kiss, suddenly thought: is this what they mean by “killing a god in a primitive way”? The Commander would kill him sooner or later. For once, he actually began to consider whether he should start working out again, otherwise his small frame would surely break eventually.

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Hiding the dead Xi De in a folded spacetime back then had been a result of a sudden impulse. To this day, he didn’t quite understand why he had done it.

Maybe it will be useful in the future—he had thought then.

But he hadn’t expected Him to leave so decisively. After returning from the Dark Wasteland, An Yu had lost his control over spacetime and couldn’t find Xi De’s hiding place anymore.

Bo had talked to him a few times. Several boring pleasantries sat in their chat box; Bo circled around but ultimately never asked that question.

— An Yu, where is my Commander’s body?

More terrifying than death is being left without remains.

More terrifying than being left without remains is knowing the body could have been brought back properly.

An Yu finally pushed Qin Zhilu away. Under the other’s searching gaze, he evasively stuffed a large mouthful of bread into his mouth. He couldn’t chew it properly and almost choked to death. Qin Zhilu could only help rub his back helplessly. As he rubbed, An Yu’s terminal, which had just gone dark, suddenly lit up again.

Speak of the devil, Bo had sent another message. By rights, Bo should be on his way back from the Polar Region for the gathering; no, he should have been back long ago.

An Yu hesitated for a moment, then played the voice message. It was the first time Bo had sent him a voice note. The cold, aloof young man’s voice was trembling with the sound of crying.

“An Yu, I’m not coming back for now. I met a little red bird on the polar snowfields… I can’t chase it away, it keeps following me. I took a photo and sent it to the former Black Tower; they said it’s an unrecorded species. It…”

The voice broke off amidst the trembling. All was silent around them; everyone stared at the terminal in shock. A second voice message popped up. When An Yu pressed it, his fingertips were also trembling slightly.

“Its wings can strike small sparks.”

“It used those sparks to burn and melt the ice cream I bought at the nearby residential area.”

Author’s Note:

Bo (3/3) The Aurora is Beautiful

The calamity came quietly and left in silence.

Those dead bones gradually merged into the vastness amidst the snowstorm.

Chao Wu said that one early morning, when the sunlight once again covered the sea,

She seemed to see those fellow travelers who sleep eternally in the deep sea.

They turned into waves hitting the shore, kissing under the sun.

So I also returned to the Polar Region, back to the vicinity of the snow mountain where you departed.

Wandering, soaring, and crying out without ceasing.

I want to keep the snowstorm of the past; I want to keep that day when the horizon was stained with blood.

So that when I meet you again,

No matter what you are, no matter how you exist,

I will tell you:

Commander, the aurora is beautiful.

For the rest of this life, don’t hate cold places anymore.

I believe that day will come.

m1zushi: im going to fix this later but i rll need to sleep