Chapter 49 – Two Mistakes
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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What exactly happened last night, Song Jin couldn’t remember. In the darkness, everything but his vision was clear: the kisses seared into his skin, the panting sounds echoing in his ears, the scorching body heat, all pieced together into fragmented memories. One moment, it felt very real, and the next, he doubted it was a dream.
Although they only used their hands, Song Jin remembered curling up into a ball at the end because it felt like he couldn’t face it at all. His emotions were in turmoil, and he half-choked as he asked Song Xinglan, “Isn’t there any way we can avoid this?”
Song Xinglan replied, “No. We can’t.”
Then he hugged Song Jin from behind, resting his forehead against the back of Song Jin’s neck as he whispered, “Go to sleep.”
It was the first time they slept together in a fully conscious state. But Song Jin’s mind and body were in chaos. So much so that he felt exhausted and eventually fell asleep in a daze.
Song Jin knew when Song Xinglan left. In his sleep, he subconsciously clutched one of Song Xinglan’s fingers. Later, the finger was pulled away and his palm felt empty. Even without opening his eyes, Song Jin knew it was dawn.
The warmth from behind him disappeared. Song Xinglan never lingered when doing things. After getting up and tidying up for a while, he opened the door. But it seemed he paused for a second. Song Jin, lying in a groggy state with his eyes closed, wasn’t sure if he was being watched.
The door closed, and the lingering sleepiness vanished in an instant. Song Jin opened his eyes and stared blankly at the edge of the bed. He suddenly thought that he should have reminded Song Xinglan to change the dressing on time and to avoid getting his hand wet.
However, when he sat up, he heard the sound of a car door closing and an engine starting from outside the balcony.
Song Jin ran to the balcony barefoot and watched through the gaps in the tree branches as the black car quickly drove away.
He stood there for a while, then went back inside. He tidied up the bed and returned to his own room. He picked up his phone and saw a message that had been sent just a minute ago:
“It’s cold on the balcony. Go back inside.”
Song Jin stood holding his phone for a long time, long enough for the phone to lock itself. Staring at the black screen reflecting his own face, Song Jin felt that he was probably finished. He had vaguely felt this way many months ago, on that night when he had voluntarily hugged the amnesiac Song Xinglan’s neck, when he first willingly made love to his brother. He should have had this realisation then. But strangely enough, it wasn’t until this moment that he truly understood he was finished.
Soon, he was enlightened. Because now he was facing a fully sober Song Xinglan, which was even more absurd than giving his heart to someone with amnesia. But it had one advantage. It wasn’t as precarious as before, worrying about the amnesiac suddenly regaining his memory and the dream collapsing. Because this wasn’t a dream. They were both awake and very clear-headed.
“Meow…”
Grapefruit ran in, bringing Song Jin back to reality. He picked the cat up and left the room, planning to feed it.
As he passed Song Xinglan’s room, Grapefruit stretched his head to look inside. Just like when Song Xinglan suddenly regained his memory and left the village, Grapefruit always stared at that small room. Song Jin told him back then that Song Xinglan wouldn’t be coming back and he wouldn’t be opening the door for him anymore.
At this moment, Song Jin patted the cat’s head and said, “He’ll be back soon.”
That was the promise Song Xinglan had made to him last night, saying he would be back soon.
***
In the evening, Song Jin was working in the study when he vaguely heard the sound of a car door closing downstairs. His fingers paused above the keyboard, and he was stunned for a few seconds before getting up. It seemed too late to go downstairs. So he went to the nearest balcony in the living room. He saw someone standing in front of the yard gate. But it wasn’t Song Xinglan.
Zhao Hai saw Song Jin standing on the second-floor balcony and called out to him, “Xiao Jin, perfect timing. Come and open the door. I brought over the rest of Xinglan’s luggage.”
Song Jin was dazed for a moment before responding, “Oh. Okay.”
Three suitcases, plus the one moved over the day before yesterday, made four in total. These were the luggages Song Xinglan had brought back from Toronto. Then Song Jin remembered that Song Xiangping’s villa had been mortgaged long ago. So these four suitcases were actually all of Song Xinglan’s belongings. From the time he left home as a teenager to his return to the country, nearly four years of time and life had been compressed into these few suitcases.
“I’ll take care of it,” Song Jin said. “You go have a drink of water.”
“No need, no need. It’s just a few suitcases. It’s not tiring.” Zhao Hai smiled. “Xinglan doesn’t like others touching his things. So it’s up to you, his brother, to sort it out.”
Song Jin nodded. He remained silent for a moment and then asked, “Did you take him to the airport this morning?”
“Yes,” Zhao Hai sighed. “After all, it’s a family matter. So I shouldn’t say much. There has to be an end to it. Xinglan has grown up. He knows what to do. So don’t worry too much.”
“Where is Song Xiangping now?”
“I heard he’s in Laos. Xinglan crossed the border through Xishuangbanna.” After a pause, Zhao Hai continued, “Xiao Jin, I know you’ve always been a good kid and might find it hard to accept. But you almost got hurt the day before. This matter…”
“No,” Song Jin said, “I’m not worried about Song Xiangping.”
After Zhao Hai left, Song Jin was alone upstairs sorting through things. He took the items out of the suitcases and placed them around the room, hanging the clothes one by one in the walk-in closet. The last suitcase mostly contained documents, mainly in English. Song Jin didn’t dare to handle them carelessly and just took them out and stacked them on the desk in order.
At the very bottom was an inconspicuous manila file folder, with no markings on the outside. The creases at the seal were already worn. Song Jin held it in his hand and bent down to pick up the remaining two books, when suddenly a pile of documents slipped out of the folder and fell into the suitcase.
Song Jin reached out and picked them up.
***
Song Jin didn’t have Song Xinglan’s domestic phone number. But Song Xinglan had sent him messages, which was probably the number he was currently using.
“Went to the office. Contact me if you need anything.”
“It’s cold on the balcony. Go back inside.”
That night, Song Jin stared at these two lines for a long time. He then typed a reply: “Remember to change the dressing. Keep the wound dry.”
After pausing for a moment, he sent the message. The text boxes on the screen were parallel, close enough to seem as if they were looking at each other.
A few minutes later, Song Xinglan replied: “Mm.”
Song Jin could almost imagine his expression at that moment—probably no expression at all, cold and indifferent. Then Song Jin wondered if Song Xinglan had already caught Song Xiangping and what he would do to their father.
He had the urge to ask. But in the end, Song Jin only locked the screen of his phone.
He couldn’t intervene and had no way to. All he could do was stay at home and wait for his brother to finish dealing with this long-overdue matter, completing a revenge that had been postponed for years.
***
Two days passed. In the evening, as it was getting close to dinnertime, Song Jin went downstairs to cook. Every time he cooked over these past two days, he prepared enough for two, because he didn’t know when Song Xinglan would return.
After starting cooking the rice, Song Jin put on an apron and opened the refrigerator to look for vegetables. Grapefruit looked up at him, seemingly sniffing for the scent of some fish.
Then he suddenly perked up his ears and widened his eyes, looking towards the living room’s floor-to-ceiling windows as he meowed.
At the same time, Song Jin heard the sound of a car door closing outside. The tomato in his hand was cold. Song Jin thought about putting it back in the fridge, then remembered he intended to use it for cooking. He had a few chaotic thoughts for a few seconds before placing the tomato next to the sink.
Grapefruit had already run to the front door. Song Jin stood in place, then slowly closed the refrigerator door. He glanced at the floor-to-ceiling window. It seemed that a few people were standing outside the black gate of the yard.
Song Jin walked to the front door and reached out to open it.
The gentle, lingering sunset of a spring evening cast a warm light over the yard. As Song Jin opened the door, Song Xinglan was just pushing open the gate. Their eyes met across the distance. Song Jin stood by the door, watching as Song Xinglan emerged from the shadows and walked across the path in the yard. He then walked through the glow of the setting sun, stepped up the stairs, and came to stand before him.
His face looked tired. But his eyes carried a dark, powerful gaze. As they stood facing each other, Song Jin felt a sense of reunion after a long separation, even though it had only been two days.
Perhaps something had changed, deepened, or become clearer.
There was a scabbed wound on Song Xinglan’s right cheek, slanting across his fair skin. The closer he got, the more noticeable it became. Song Jin stared at the scar for a few seconds and asked, “You got hurt?”
“I accidentally scraped it,” Song Xinglan said.
Then silence fell again, with only the faint sound of the wind rustling the leaves. Grapefruit silently peeked out from behind the door, his wide eyes fixed on Song Xinglan.
“I just started cooking,” Song Jin lowered his eyes and opened the door a bit wider, saying, “I was about to make some dishes. Do you want to eat…”
“Ge,” Song Xinglan interrupted him.
Song Jin looked up at him, unable to discern anything from his calm expression. He could only ask, “What’s wrong?”
Song Xinglan looked at him and said, “Aren’t you going to give me a hug?”
It wasn’t a question or a request. It was a low, matter-of-fact statement. Though phrased as a question, it sounded more like an undeniable command. It gave the strange impression that Song Xinglan fully expected Song Jin to obediently embrace him.
Song Jin looked away and said, “Come inside. I need to close the door.”
So, Song Xinglan stepped inside and Song Jin closed the door.
As Song Jin was closing the door, Song Xinglan stood very close behind him. Once the door was shut, Song Jin stared at the door handle for a moment, neither of them speaking. Then Song Jin turned around, not raising his head, and wrapped his arms around Song Xinglan’s waist.
His arms tightened gradually, and he could hear Song Xinglan’s heartbeat growing clearer as they drew closer. The scent was familiar. Although it was Song Xinglan who was being hugged, Song Jin felt as if he were the one enveloped by him.
“There are two mistakes. The first mistake is Song Xiangping,” Song Xinglan said softly. As he finished this sentence, he lifted his arms to return Song Jin’s embrace. He then continued, “That has been dealt with. Now comes the second. It will take a long time to fix it.”
He didn’t specify what the second mistake was. But Song Jin understood him.
Song Xinglan was referring to himself.
In this family, the first mistake was Song Xiangping, who selfishly sowed all the seeds of evil.
The second mistake was Song Xinglan, who had hurt Song Jin with his twisted and obsessive ways.
The first mistake had been resolved. But the second mistake would take Song Xinglan a very long time to mend and heal.
Song Jin didn’t say anything. He just closed his eyes in Song Xinglan’s embrace.
This house was large, holding the two people who were closest by blood. They had reformed a family, one that carried pain, wounds, scars, and tears. These might never completely vanish. But they would slowly be soothed over time. They still had a long time ahead of them.
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*Author’s Note: Goodnight ^_^ -McChicken
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*Translator’s Note: I hope they’ll both find peace. I have not proofread any of the chapters. Please inform me if anything seems out of place. Thanks! -K
Next update: -Daily-
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