Chapter 42 – Acknowledging One’s Faults
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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Outside, the rain poured down. It made the inside of the car feel like a quiet, enclosed space. Song Jin was silent for a moment before reaching out to unzip his jacket.
Song Xinglan took his brother’s jacket and placed it on the front passenger seat. Then, he lifted Song Jin’s foot onto his knee. Song Jin pulled his leg back a bit, saying softly, “It’s dirty.”
He was extremely unaccustomed to this kind of behaviour from Song Xinglan. Their interactions had always been filled with sharp conflicts. Song Jin resisted and opposed him because of all their past disagreements. But in this simple setting, those emotions could be put aside for now. Song Jin was simply not used to this kind of situation.
Song Xinglan didn’t say anything. He held Song Jin’s ankle and took off his shoes and socks. He then grabbed the towel to dry his feet. With his head lowered, revealing a fair side profile, he said, “Change your clothes.”
The rain had long since soaked through his collar, leaving his body cold. Song Jin glanced at Song Xinglan before raising his arms to remove his sweater along with the T-shirt underneath. The warm air from the heater hit his skin, causing a small, involuntary shiver that Song Xinglan noticed. He looked up, thinking Song Jin was feeling unwell.
When their eyes met, even the silence turned into an awkward ambiguity. Despite the spaciousness of the car, Song Jin felt an indescribable sense of cramped pressure. Song Xinglan’s gaze always carried a calm, assessing quality, devoid of emotion, yet always making one want to avoid direct eye contact. Even though Song Jin knew Song Xinglan probably wouldn’t lose his temper again, he still couldn’t bear such direct eye contact.
“Are you cold?” Song Xinglan’s gaze swept over Song Jin’s bare upper body before settling on his face. “I’ll adjust the temperature.”
“No need,” Song Jin said, pulling on a clean T-shirt. As he put on the sweater, he added, “I’m not cold.”
Both the T-shirt and sweater belonged to Song Xinglan, so they were much larger than Song Jin’s size. The sleeves were long and the neckline was wide. Song Jin touched his exposed collarbone. His hair was a bit messy. As he leaned against the car door under the warm yellow light, the loose, soft clothing and his wet, dishevelled hair gave him an incongruous sense of laziness. From his brows to his collarbone, his skin was strikingly fair, glowing softly, looking gentle, beautiful, and delicate.
Song Jin’s feet weren’t dirty. They were just wet. After Song Xinglan dried them, he put the towel aside and said, “Change your pants.”
Song Jin wanted to refuse. But the one thing he most needed to change was his wet, muddy pants. There was no good reason to say no.
“Why don’t you sit in the front?” Song Jin suggested. “It’s cramped back here with both of us. It’s not convenient for changing.”
Song Xinglan didn’t respond. Instead, he put Song Jin’s legs back on the seat and then knelt down on one knee, giving all the space to Song Jin. “Go ahead,” he said.
No one could change their pants comfortably in such a small space with someone kneeling before them, and Song Jin was certainly no exception. He felt his face heat up. But any further hesitation would seem overly fussy. Besides, the wet pants clinging to his legs were indeed cold. So, Song Jin looked down, undid the drawstring of his sweatpants, and pushed them down. Song Xinglan grabbed the pant legs and said, “Lift your hips a bit.”
Song Jin lifted his hips slightly. Song Xinglan smoothly pulled the pant legs down. The entire scene unfolded like a slowly unrolling scroll. As Song Jin’s legs gradually emerged from the pants, Song Xinglan held his calf, lifting it slightly to remove the pants completely.
Song Jin used one hand to pull the hem of his sweater down to cover his upper thighs, while reaching for the clean pants with the other. However, Song Xinglan sat back down, placing Song Jin’s legs on his own thighs, and looked down at the injury on Song Jin’s knee.
It wasn’t serious. But Song Jin’s skin was so fair that even a small red mark or bruise stood out starkly, looking alarming. Song Jin wasn’t that delicate. He moved his leg slightly and said, “It’s fine. I just need to apply some ointment when we get back.”
“What about your calf?” Song Xinglan asked, holding Song Jin’s previously injured calf. “Does it hurt?”
Song Jin wanted to say it didn’t. But after a pause, he admitted, “It has been raining a lot lately. Sometimes it does hurt.”
Song Xinglan nodded and continued to massage Song Jin’s calf. After a while, he suddenly said, “You’ve lost weight.”
When Song Xinglan had amnesia and learned the reason for Song Jin’s leg injury, he had massaged Song Jin’s leg many times. Now, a few months later, doing this again, he could clearly tell by the feel that Song Jin had indeed lost weight.
Memories seemed to overlap with reality, whether it was the familiar face or the serious expression. Song Jin turned his gaze away and said, “Alright, I’ll put on the pants.”
Song Xinglan took the pants and helped him put them on. Song Jin’s legs were indeed beautiful, with a grace that captivated the eyes whether extended or bent. Song Xinglan bent one knee against the edge of the seat, leaning forward towards Song Jin, and said, “Raise your hips.”
Song Jin placed his hands on the seat, lifting his hips as Song Xinglan helped him put on the pants. Song Xinglan’s knuckles grazed Song Jin’s smooth thigh. It was a warm, slightly tingly touch. Close together, Song Jin was overshadowed by Song Xinglan’s profile, catching a whiff of his fresh cologne. In his view, there was the superior curve of a jawline, moving upward to the thin lips, straight nose, and deep black eyes.
Occasionally, Song Jin would see a resemblance to himself in Song Xinglan’s face. Yet their facial features and overall appearance were quite different—one sharp, the other soft, perhaps reflecting their personalities.
The atmosphere seemed to heat up despite the pouring rain outside, where even the sound seemed distant. The only clear sounds were their breathing, and the still air grew a bit sticky, subtly connecting unsaid thoughts. It was just eye contact. But Song Jin couldn’t hold it, feeling that if he tilted his head back a bit, his lips might touch Song Xinglan’s jaw, blurring the line between memory and reality. He lowered his eyes, adjusting the loose collar of his shirt, and asked, “How’s your company doing?”
The topic started awkwardly. But Song Xinglan didn’t break the mood. He just looked at him for a few seconds before sitting back at the other end. As he helped Song Jin put on his socks, he said, “It’s alright.”
Song Jin nodded. “Hmm.”
After putting on the socks, Song Xinglan unwrapped a wet tissue pack, took Song Jin’s hand, and wiped from his wrist to his fingertips. Since Song Xinglan started massaging his legs, Song Jin had wanted several times to say he could do it himself. But he had to admit, Song Xinglan at this moment was so similar to how he was during his amnesia that Song Jin couldn’t bear to stop him.
Song Jin knew he was soft-hearted, unable to ever refuse that side of Song Xinglan. Even though he said Song Xinglan was just basking in that person’s glory, in reality, there was no difference. Song Xinglan was his own younger brother and that would never change.
If the clear-headed Song Xinglan really could treat him like he did during his amnesia, could Song Jin allow himself to soften once more?
Song Jin couldn’t find an answer. Nor did he want to dwell on the question. Since Song Xinglan didn’t agree to disappear from his life, didn’t agree to sever their ties, there was nothing he could do. As long as Song Xinglan didn’t lose himself again, Song Jin was willing to leave everything to time, to the future, to anything—after all, he could never resist Song Xinglan.
He was indeed tired, broken before. If Song Xinglan intended to break him again, Song Jin was sure he could walk away without looking back, unafraid.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you,” Song Jin leaned against the car window, with raindrops flowing down outside against the glass. The dynamic liquid outside and the static inside him blended seamlessly into a comfortable scene. He looked at Song Xinglan and asked, “That night, when we went looking for Grapefruit.”
“You told me, you didn’t want me to just like you. Liking wasn’t enough. You wanted me to love you.”
“At that time, I felt like you became a different person. You were very calm, very organised. Did you… already remember something by then?”
Song Xinglan wiped his hands with a wet tissue and then held Song Jin’s wrist to warm it up for him, saying, “I didn’t remember anything yet.”
“But I have a feeling, like I’m about to remember something.”
“And I’m afraid that after I wake up, I’ll forget everything that has happened between us. So I said those words to you.”
It sounded like a farewell. People with amnesia realise they are about to regain their memories, afraid that their awakened selves won’t be able to confess anymore. So, at the last moment, he confessed to Song Jin, hoping Song Jin would remember his sincere feelings and remember the way he loved him so innocently.
Perhaps at that moment, Song Xinglan was seeking an answer. He wanted to hear Song Jin say he loved him. If not love, then liking would suffice. Before his memory returned, that Song Xinglan must have truly yearned for Song Jin’s response.
This was the reason Song Jin could never forget. He had been liked and loved in such a way. So later, facing the sober Song Xinglan, he repeatedly broke down and crumbled because he could never accept such a change.
Song Jin looked up at the lights in the car and asked, “Do you think I’m ridiculous? Always treating you as two different people, especially when you had amnesia…”
He smiled bitterly, “Such as committing incest with you.”
“It’s just mutual liking.” Song Xinglan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His voice was slightly hoarse. “It’s not incest.”
“You were the one who said it like that.” Song Jin blinked slowly. The light reflected in his eyes like clear yet melancholy autumn water. “You kept reminding me that it’s incest, that I was insane, sleeping with my own younger brother. It was what you said.”
Song Xinglan lowered his head for a while before saying, “Ge, I’m sorry.”
Song Jin looked at his profile and asked, “Do you feel ashamed of yourself during the amnesia period? Were those two months shameful for you?”
“I didn’t feel that way.” Song Xinglan said, turning to look at Song Jin. “But after seeing your attitude, I realise you’ve divided me into two people.”
Song Jin smiled faintly. “Do you think you can blame me for that?”
Song Xinglan fell silent. His palm enclosed Song Jin’s wrist and their body temperatures mingled. Song Jin sighed softly, “Just let it go.”
He didn’t know exactly what he meant by ‘let it go’. Some things were better left at this point of confrontation. They might not be able to fully contemplate deeper matters now. Not yet at the stage where a few words could unravel their emotional knots.
The rain subsided a bit. Song Xinglan got out of the car, fetched a piece of wood from the trunk to tie around the tires, and drove the car out of the mud. He then drove all the way to the outside of the yard. He carried Song Jin back into the room, fetched hot water for him to soak his feet, and applied medicine to his knees.
“When are you heading back to Toronto this time?” Song Jin asked.
“Tonight’s flight,” Song Xinglan replied. “I came back the day before yesterday to handle some matters for the company here.”
“Then you should leave early. I haven’t prepared dinner for you here.”
Song Xinglan only ‘hmm’ in acknowledgment.
“After returning to the city, you can stay in that apartment I mentioned last time,” Song Xinglan said as he lightly dabbed Song Jin’s knee with a cotton swab. “I won’t come over to disturb you.”
Song Jin leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes with some weariness. “Let’s talk about it later.”
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*Translator’s Note: That was hella of a long chapter wheeeeeeeeee~~~~ -K
Next update: -Daily-
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