Rose Embers

 

There was a lot of spicy gossip on the Spire forums.

When he was a star, people online daily fabricated stories of Zhao Ran getting together with this elite or that tycoon. After joining the Spire, his gossip became much simpler—there was only Jin Xuyan. Everyone believed Jin Xuyan had long ago taken him by force and slept with him until he was broken; otherwise, it was hard to explain the red marks the collars and sleeves couldn’t hide, his wobbly legs when walking, and his hesitant expression even when sitting down at meals.

Whenever he saw these posts, even Zhao Ran himself would feel a bit of irony.

Those were all physical punishments; Jin Xuyan had never touched him.

Their most ambiguous moment, however, was initiated by Zhao Ran.

He had forgotten which mission it was; he still stubbornly refused to use the custom gear made for him and was finally pulled into the vortex of an aberrant tide. Hideous things screamed as they blanketed him from all directions; he was like a piece of meat dropped into an insect pit, soon to be eaten clean.

Then, Jin Xuyan, who was usually idle on the battlefield and left the work to his subordinates, personally charged into the tide.

That was the first time Zhao Ran saw him unleash his killing intent.

Terror. That was the only word for it.

A mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, created in a single breath.

Having carved a path of blood to reach him, Jin Xuyan slapped him hard across the face, knocking him to the ground with a thunderous ringing in his ears.

But he still heard that angry roar clearly:

“You want to kill yourself? You want to resist me this way?”

He had misunderstood.

But Zhao Ran had no intention of explaining. He was hoisted up by his collar, and the black rose vines climbed his limbs again with the man’s fury, binding him and suspending him in the air, a good head higher than the man himself.

He looked down, savoring the anger in those eyes, watching as the intensity that shouldn’t belong to that man devoured his coldness inch by inch.

Suddenly, as if uncontrolled, Zhao Ran leaned his lips down toward him.

He only moved slightly before stopping, but Jin Xuyan perceived his thought in an instant.

The rose vines flourished, wrapping them in the center and isolating everything outside.

Jin Xuyan dragged him down from the heights, gripped his chin, and plundered him fiercely until both tasted blood in each other’s mouths.

Returning to the Spire, Zhao Ran took the initiative to walk into the room next door that had once terrified him.

He knew Jin Xuyan had wanted him for a long time, just as his own desire for the man was suddenly just as intense.

Jin Xuyan’s tyranny and cruelty were also fully on display that night, but he soon realized something was wrong.

He forced Zhao Ran’s face around and looked into his eyes in disbelief. “You’re…”

Zhao Ran was shaking from the pain, but he remained haughty. “First time. You got a bargain.”

He looked at the man with the gaze of an idol bestowing favor upon a fan, just as arrogant as he had been on stage.

Jin Xuyan wasn’t angered; he just looked at him.

Once again, Zhao Ran couldn’t read his expression.

“In the future, wear your gear on missions. If you don’t like what I gave you, go get a set custom-made yourself.”

“What?”

A violent thrust made him nearly bite his lip.

“Don’t ask back. Say yes.”

Zhao Ran didn’t speak again, and Jin Xuyan didn’t force him. But at the end of the night’s tossing, Zhao Ran finally curled up in his arms and said listlessly, “How much does a set of gear cost?”

“Use my account.”

Jin Xuyan pulled him into his embrace, his chest solid and warm. “Pay me back after you’ve saved up enough missions.”

Zhao Ran let out a snicker in his arms with his eyes closed.

“How boring. You really are no different from all those other rich guys.”

Only when the breathing above his head leveled out did he reopen his eyes. By the dim moonlight, he looked at the large black rose tattoos on Jin Xuyan’s chest and arms.

Black roses. Uncanny and dangerous.

Their thorns would leave one bloody, but their delicate beauty also made one surrender.

“Go to sleep.”

The person who seemed fast asleep suddenly spoke, pressing a hand on his head with eyes still closed. “You’re exhausted.”

Zhao Ran didn’t know if his relationship with Jin Xuyan had changed.

He still didn’t give him a good look; in public and private, he contradicted him at every turn. If he went too far and stepped over the man’s bottom line, Jin Xuyan would still punish him, often in bed, never showing mercy.

He was the person Zhao Ran hated most in the Spire.

But he was also the only person in the Spire, or rather, in this whole world, that he cared about.

During one purging mission, Jin Xuyan took dozens of Protectors. The battle was exceptionally tragic; nearly a third of the Protectors lost their sanity on the battlefield due to the interference of the chaotic aberrant.

After returning, Jin Xuyan didn’t say a word. In the middle of the night, Zhao Ran tried to push that door open and found the man had fallen asleep in the armchair.

An empty red wine bottle lay on the table, and an earbud hung down. He stepped forward and picked up the earbud, suddenly catching a familiar melody in the quiet room.

Zhao Ran froze, then tucked the earbud into his ear.

His own singing voice came through. It was a nursery rhyme his mother used to sing to him when he was a child in the Bait City. He hadn’t performed it in public; he had simply hummed a bit on his way home once, caught on a paparazzi video.

Jin Xuyan had stripped the audio over and over, removing the background noise until only his soft, clean voice remained, humming repeatedly in his ear like a gentle caress, or like someone being coaxed.

While Zhao Ran was still dazed, Jin Xuyan woke up.

His bloodshot, drunken eyes glanced at him. He tapped the other earbud still in his ear and touched his terminal, switching the song.

It was another of Zhao Ran’s early songs. That year the calamity wasn’t yet severe; even those in the Bait Cities would be busy for the holidays at the end of winter. The tune was warm, seemingly both joyful and sad. The song was titled The Snowy Night Approaches. He had sung it at his first performance in the Main City, but later stopped singing it because the name was considered unlucky.

Jin Xuyan said nothing, turning his head to look at the heavy snow fluttering outside the window.

They shared a pair of headphones and listened to the song in silence.

That night, Jin Xuyan suddenly called his name. “Zhao Ran.”

“I’ve spoken with the High Peak. Qin Zhilu knows as well. He will ensure the High Peak fulfills the contract.”

“What?”

“If one day I am no longer here, leave the Spire. As long as you don’t infect humans or harm the innocent, the Black Tower won’t trouble you again.”

Zhao Ran didn’t say a word.

He frowned deeply; quite unexpectedly, even to himself, his heart felt a sudden jolt of pain upon hearing the words “no longer here.”

Finally, he parted his lips and said a single word to Jin Xuyan: “Scram.”

“Who cares for your fake mercy? What do you think you are, my master?”

Jin Xuyan, as usual, did not get angry. He had never been moved to rage by Zhao Ran’s insolence.

“Do you mean to say you’ve actually grown fond of your identity as a Protector?”

Zhao Ran sneered. “I like seeing the frustration on your face when you realize you can’t control everything.”

At that time, Zhao Ran believed these days and this relationship would continue indefinitely, like an unending blizzard.

Until, at the Descending Swamp, the rose branches traversed ten thousand mud whips to finally deliver him out safely.

“Be safe.”

In the end, those were the only words he left him.

He always felt that Jin Xuyan must have had a thousand words at that final moment, but the man had always detested trouble and was sparing with his words; in the end, perhaps only those two remained.

Be safe. You must be safe.

Other things had already been said during the countless confrontations throughout those days and nights.

For example, during the mission before they went to the swamp, he had made a mistake and nearly lost his life. Though Jin Xuyan saved him once again, he suddenly said in the dead of night that perhaps he shouldn’t have forced Zhao Ran to become a Protector.

But he also said, “After becoming a Protector, you are more passionate and more arrogant than you ever were on stage.”

When Zhao Ran returned to the swamp, willingly offering both wrists to the Black Rose to be swallowed by chaos alongside him, he heard that magnetic, steady voice once more.

It spoke in his ear—

Zhao Ran, I cannot stop your life from collapsing.

But fortunately, I can find your life and give it back to you.

In that instant, this man’s myriad intentions, the protection hidden beneath his cruelty, were laid bare.

He had finally lost this gamble, because he showed his true feelings.

But Zhao Ran thought, The one who lost most completely was me.

The lingering echoes of the music faded behind him, the waves receded, and the world returned to silence.

The backstage was brilliantly lit, with people coming and going, all crowding around him, praising him, holding him in the center like a moon surrounded by stars.

This was once his favorite stage. Now, it feels as hollow as a death trap.

“Where would you like to have your late-night snack?” The assistant smiled cautiously. “Several listeners have sent invitations, each one more prominent than the last…”

“I’m not having a snack.” Zhao Ran took off his gloves and said coldly, “How is the renovation of my garden coming along?”

“The infrastructure is done. The irrigation and temperature control facilities are in place; we’re just waiting to transplant the flowers.” The assistant, seemingly used to the idol’s aloofness, immediately switched topics. “Someone from the former Black Tower came by this afternoon to ask: which flower seedlings do you want?”

“From the Descending Swamp. Don’t touch that towering Black Rose, but the small flowers blooming at its feet. Take every single one of them and move them here.”

The assistant hesitated. “We can do that, but… won’t it be too sparse? It’ll look bare.”

“One day, it will be lush.”

“Alright. Oh, and the Black Tiger the former Black Tower selected for you is ready to enter the garden at any time. Actually, I’m a bit worried… Won’t the tiger crush those delicate little flowers?”

“No.” Zhao Ran paused. “The more brutal a creature is, the better it can coexist with something fragile.”

The assistant nodded blindly, sighed, and said, “You should really listen to the former Black Tower’s advice and remove the decorative metal from around your lips… You are no longer an aberrant. Even if you don’t care about what others say, your body can no longer accept these foreign metal objects. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Zhao Ran happened to stop in front of the mirror, turning his head to look at himself.

His genes had reverted to those of a pure human, and every day his body experienced a rejection reaction against these metal objects. Having just taken immunosuppressants, his cheeks were flushed crimson after the performance.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Zhao Ran pursed his lips and met his own gaze in the mirror. Looking at himself through the mirror, through those still-clear eyes, it seemed as though he saw someone else’s face instead.

“I need something to make me remember that dream that has finally drifted away.”

---

 

Translator’s notes: they’re like my favorite 2nd CP ;w; the flavor of idol x fan to enemies to lovers is just too good…