Chapter 40 – Realities and Memories
Novel Title: 一屋暗灯 (Ephemeral Light)
Author：麦香鸡呢 (McChicken)
Translator: K (@kin0monogatari)
Protagonists: 宋谨 (Song Jin -MC), 宋星阑 (Song Xinglan -ML)
*Please read at Novels Space.space, the original site of translation. TQ*
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When Song Jin woke up in the morning, it was raining outside. It was a gentle pitter-patter. He felt stuffy and realised he was still wearing his sweater and pants.
His eyes felt uncomfortable. They were likely swollen. Song Jin raised his hand to rub them, then sat up.
He was still tired. It was a deep, exhaustive fatigue as if his energy was completely drained. His mind was blank. He did not want to think about anything at all.
But despite this, memories from the previous night began to surface. Memories of fear, breakdown, venting, and the entangling feeling of being held tightly by Song Xinglan, unable to struggle free. This almost made Song Jin want to lie back down and never wake up.
He reached for the jacket on the sofa and put it on, slowly getting out of bed.
Walking to the door, he heard muffled voices outside. Song Xinglan hadn’t left.
Song Jin opened the door to see Song Xinglan standing by the front door, apparently on the phone.
“The IPO price range in the prospectus needs to be narrowed again. Get the analysts to give me an accurate number tonight. We’ll finalise it in a meeting after I return.”
“We have pricing negotiations next week. Once the underwriting agreement is signed, we need to prepare for delivery. Before I board the plane, I want to see all the delivery documents sent by the lawyers.”
“The interval for subsequent issuances is currently very short. Make sure to check if the CSRC needs to review the registration documents for the follow-on issuances.”
“Do I need to emphasise this again? Have him prepare his resignation report himself. I don’t want it to look too messy.”
“That’s it for now. We’ll discuss the rest when I get back.”
Song Jin slowly approached the door and saw Song Xinglan standing in the corridor, holding a phone in one hand and a half-burnt cigarette in the other, hanging by his side. The white smoke from the cigarette intertwined with the rain falling in the courtyard, creating a hazy and desolate scene.
“Meow…” Grapefruit, sitting at Song Xinglan’s feet, saw Song Jin and meowed. He then walked over to rub against his pant leg.
Song Xinglan turned his head at the sound. His face showed signs of heavy fatigue. When he saw Song Jin, he seemed momentarily stunned. He put down his phone into his coat pocket and extinguished the cigarette by stomping it out on the ground. He hesitated for a moment. But then spoke, “Ge.”
Truly rare. Whenever Song Xinglan called Song Jin ‘Ge’ while sober, it usually carried a tone of sarcasm or restraint. Actually, the tone wasn’t much different compared to usual. But this time, it seemed genuinely different.
In fact, since yesterday when he uttered that apology, many things had already been brought to light. It’s just that Song Jin was too tired to think about it. He didn’t believe Song Xinglan would suddenly have a change of heart and repent sincerely. But the other reasons were unknown, so he simply gave up thinking about it.
Song Jin didn’t say a word. He turned and went to the bathroom to wash up. After finishing, he walked towards the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
“Breakfast is on the table,” Song Xinglan stood behind him and said, “Don’t bother making them.”
Ignoring him, Song Jin continued forward. Song Xinglan took two steps forward and caught his wrist from behind. “Ge.”
Song Jin gently shook off his hand and looked at him without speaking. Song Xinglan stood still and said, “I know you’re tired. Don’t bother.”
“Alright,” Song Jin tiredly blinked his eyes. “You leave now. Once you’re gone, I’ll eat.”
“I have a flight at 10:30,” Song Xinglan said softly. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
Song Jin didn’t have the energy to engage in further conversation with him. He walked past him back to the living room, where he saw a table set with a bowl of porridge and several side dishes neatly arranged. They were likely prepared and brought over.
He sat down at the table, picked up the spoon, and started eating the porridge. It had dried scallops and salted pork bones, flavorful and fresh. It had been left to cool for a while, so the temperature was just right.
Standing next to Song Jin, Song Xinglan watched his quiet and pale profile. He said, “When you are preparing for exams, you can stay here.”
He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and placed it on the table. “The address and the gate code are written on it.”
Without lifting his head, Song Jin replied, “No need.”
“It’s your house,” Song Xinglan said.
The spoon tapped against the edge of the porcelain bowl with a crisp sound. Song Jin looked up at him.
“There are three cars in the garage. They are all under your name,” Song Xinglan said. His eyes lowered as he met Song Jin’s gaze. “If you don’t like them, you can dispose of them as you wish.”
Song Jin remained silent, bowing his head to sip some porridge before asking, “Are you trying to compensate me?”
Song Xinglan paused for a moment and replied, “No.”
“Then what is it?” Song Jin continued, looking at the steam rising in front of him. “Are you pitying me, giving me things out of charity? Or do you think that by giving me these things, the past is forgiven, as if I sold myself to you willingly back then?”
In the last half of his sentence, Song Jin’s voice trembled. He had never spoken these words before. But saying them now felt torturous. It was as if his heart had been squeezed hard and was throbbing painfully.
Acknowledging these shameful facts about himself was indeed more painful than enduring someone else’s ridicule.
“No.” Song Xinglan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, “It was since a long time ago…-“
“-How long ago exactly?” Song Jin looked at him, calmly interrupting, “If it was before you first raped me, then I forgive you.”
“If it wasn’t, then there’s no need.”
The answer was obvious. Both parties understood it well.
“What exactly do you want from me?” Song Jin couldn’t pull himself out of the vortex of exhaustion. Leaning his forehead on his hand, he looked at the porridge in the bowl and said, “I’ve never been able to understand why. If you hate me, you could have just found someone to beat me up, or even kill me. You should have stayed far away from me, not even wanting to look at me.”
“But back then, while you called me disgusting, you still raped me. If you were just immature at eighteen, what about now? Why do you keep appearing before me, seeing me frightened? Do you get pleasure from it? Or do you enjoy seeing me suffer?”
“No.”
Song Xinglan’s gaze remained fixed on Song Jin’s profile, as he uttered the third ‘no’ of the morning.
Song Jin chuckled softly and suddenly asked, “Do you know why I like him?”
“He’s completely opposite of you. He speaks straightforwardly and understandably. Most importantly, he likes me very much, genuinely and purely.”
“On New Year’s Eve, you asked me if I was willing to sleep with you because I felt sorry for you, or because I couldn’t refuse someone’s affection, or because I liked you.”
His eyes were slightly moist from the steam. Yet the eye sockets were sore and felt like they were about to burst, seemingly unable to produce tears but only bitterness. Song Jin absentmindedly stirred the porridge and said, “I think I really couldn’t refuse. But it’s not because of someone’s affection. It was because it was yours.”
Song Xinglan suddenly pursed his lips. His jaw tightened with a sharp line. Every word Song Jin said last night seemed like a farewell declaration after a collapse. He had shed so many tears, making people wonder if he would mention anything similar afterwards. Yet now, Song Jin sat there, calmly recounting facts that he clearly would never disclose in his lifetime.
This was more terrifying than avoiding the topic altogether.
“Before, there were others who treated me well, said they liked me. Those similar things,” Song Jin spoke slowly, “but it seems like I couldn’t accept them. Couldn’t accept someone unrelated to me treating me like that. I would be afraid, feeling there was nothing in me worth their reliance. I believe that in the end, they would surely leave me.”
“But back then, it seemed like only you could see me,” in the wisps of rising steam, Song Jin’s gaze drifted empty. It was as if he was immersed in some memory. He even smiled faintly, “You only remembered me, only acknowledged me as your brother. Saying since we’re blood brothers, you should like me even more.”
The gentle voice paused there. Song Jin looked at Song Xinglan, the smiling expression fading from his face. He said calmly, “Song Xinglan, until this moment, I’ve still considered you my brother. But that was just because you basked in his light.”
Song Xinglan’s expression seemed to change momentarily. There was a subtle pang difficult to articulate.
Hurtful words didn’t need further explanation. Several years ago, when Song Jin and Song Xinglan were at odds, they inflicted pain on each other in various ways—bite marks on lips, forceful intimacy, sharp blades to the chest, fists hitting the mouth. There were many, many instances. Words also played their part—one called the other disgusting, incestuous, the other called one mad, and to get lost—they were all said and done.
But now, the intense conflicts no longer apply. Song Jin lacked the strength to engage in such battles anymore. Their relationship was never dignified. If they could reach an ending without bloodshed, it would already be considered fortunate.
He believed Song Xinglan had matured somewhat over the past three years. Otherwise, once his memories returned, he would have been tormented endlessly. Song Jin understood that the period of amnesia had indeed left some impact on Song Xinglan. But the extent was difficult to measure precisely.
So Song Jin would say these things. He truly hoped that they wouldn’t go through this again, that it could end here. If the amnesiac Song Xinglan never returned, at least he could preserve some relatively good memories, instead of being slowly ground down by a sober lunatic. That would be too cruel.
The silence was shattered by the ringing of a phone. Song Xinglan took out his phone and silently hung up. He hadn’t spoken all this while. But Song Jin felt like he had many things to say, perhaps some sort of sibling telepathy.
But Song Jin didn’t want to hear anymore.
“Is it a reminder for you to go to the airport?” Song Jin scooped up a spoonful of porridge and sipped it. He then said, “The company is about to go public, so you must be busy.”
“It’s nearing time,” Song Xinglan finally spoke.
“Then go,” Song Jin said, “Don’t appear before me again.”
The rain outside was gradually subsiding. But the sound of raindrops hitting the ground could still be heard. Song Xinglan moved his lips and said, “Afterwards, I will return to China.”
Song Jin wiped his mouth with a tissue. Still not looking up, he asked, “Is it that you’ll only make it less painful for me if I don’t resist and do as you told me?”
Song Xinglan’s voice was low, “No. You can do whatever you want.”
“Oh really.” Song Jin seemed to hear an utterly absurd joke. He chuckled and said, “I want you to leave this place and never let me see you again. Can you do that? Will you do that?”
“No,” Song Xinglan replied.
Song Jin fell silent and got up. He walked past Song Xinglan and got back into his room.
***
When he came out of the room again, the house was empty, and the rain had stopped. Song Jin grabbed a bag and prepared to go to the vegetable garden to pick some vegetables.
As he stepped out, he coincidentally met a neighbour passing by. Song Jin hadn’t seen him since he returned. He heard the neighbour had been staying at his son’s house for a while.
“Shushu,” Song Jin smiled at him, “You’re back.”
“Yeah, just got back this morning. I saw your brother was here too?” the neighbour asked. “I was wondering whose fancy car was parked outside your door. Turns out it was your brother standing there. It seemed like someone brought him breakfast.”
The neighbour sighed, “He’s really different now compared to before. I almost didn’t recognize him when I saw him on the day of the Lantern Festival.”
Song Jin’s hand paused as he closed the door. “Lantern Festival?”
He only remembered that afternoon on Lantern Festival day when Song Xinglan had come to Tang Min’s house looking for him. He didn’t know how the neighbour had seen Song Xinglan.
“Yeah, during Lantern Festival, at night. It was quite cold. My son came to pick me up to go to his house in the middle of the night. I saw your brother standing right at the front gate,” the neighbour continued, pointing at where Song Jin stood. “Right where you’re standing. I asked him what he was doing there. But he said nothing.”
“I told him you hadn’t been home for a while and asked him to call and check where you were. He just nodded. Then, he stood there until late, almost midnight. When I left, I saw him holding a sky lantern and lit it up. I told him not to release it because it’s easy to start a fire in the mountains. But he said he knew.”
Sky lantern.
Perhaps because childhood memories are so few and precious, Song Jin always remembers them clearly.
That was before their parents divorced. Song Jin couldn’t recall how they got that sky lantern. He held watercolour brushes with Song Xinglan kneeling beside him at the small table in their room. Song Jin said, “This lantern will get bigger, float up, and light up inside.”
Song Xinglan was only four years old at the time. He asked, “Will it really fly?”
Song Jin nodded and said, “We can write something on it. And our wishes will come true.”
Song Xinglan blinked and asked, “What are wishes?”
Song Jin asked, “What do you want?”
“I want Mom to take us… out to play,” Song Xinglan replied.
So Song Jin took the watercolour brush and carefully wrote on the sky lantern; ‘I hope Mom takes my little brother and me out to play.’
Their two little heads leaned together. After Song Jin finished writing, Song Xinglan eagerly asked, “Can it fly now?”
“Not yet. We have to wait until…” Song Jin paused for a moment, then said, “We have to wait until the Lantern Festival. That is after Chinese New Year. There will be a Lantern Festival then, and we’ll let it fly away. That’s when our wish will come true.”
But before New Year’s Eve arrived, their parents divorced. And the brothers were separated for ten years.
The sky lantern was hidden behind the toy box by Song Jin and Song Xinglan, never getting the chance to float into the sky.
Song Jin bid farewell to the neighbour and walked out. It seemed that Song Xinglan lit the sky lantern they had promised to light over a decade ago on Lantern Festival night. Perhaps it meant he remembered too.
It’s hard to say what a four-year-old can remember. Complete family memories were too scarce for the two brothers. Sometimes, a small thing branded in their hearts could be remembered for many years.
But it was all too late. Longing turned into resentment, turned into hurtful blades pointing towards the once most missed person. Spilt water cannot be gathered into a bucket again.
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*Translator’s Note: Okay. At this point, they should just stop tormenting each other. It’s painful to watch. I know both of them had suffered. But they both should be responsible for their own actions. Anyway, I still wanna blame Song Xiangping! I held on to the belief that bad kids are not born that way. They were ‘made’. And usually, it was the parent (or parents) that ‘made’ them. -K
Next update: -Daily-
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