Listening to everything, Sui Sui couldn't help but feel a strong sense of pity for the younger boy.
As Yizhou spoke, there was an ache in Sui Sui's chest, a growing urge to reach out and pull the boy into a hug, to offer him some warmth, something to ease the boy's pain.
However, the more Sui Sui watched the boy, the more 'off' felt. Because Yizhou didn't look sad at all.
Even while recounting something that should have hurt, something personal to him, there was no change in Yizhou's expression. His face remained calm, his voice smooth and his tone was like he was simply reciting a familiar script.
It felt odd.
This was supposed to be emotional. But Yizhou's indifference made it feel like he wasn't even aware he was supposed to be hurt. Sui Sui's brows drew together slightly.
But…Maybe that was also the saddest part
Maybe because no one had ever truly cared for Yizhou, he didn't understand what he had missed. Maybe that's why he didn't see his past as something tragic—because to him, it had always just been... normal.
A quiet kind of normal that left you hollow inside.
The thought twisted painfully in Sui Sui's chest. He wanted to say something. To tell Yizhou that this wasn't how things should be. That it was okay to feel, to cry, to want more than just survival.
However, just before Sui Sui could reach out to comfort him, the boy spoke again. His voice shifted, this time, it was lighter—almost cheerful, threaded with something that sounded like innocent delight.
"But here, it's different. In this place, Yizhou has Gege, and Gege loves Yizhou the most."
As he said this, he reached out and clutched the sleeve of Sui Sui's robe tightly, fingers curling in with quiet desperation. His golden eyes were bright, expression open and alive—far more vivid than moments before. It was as if, for the first time, Yizhou was breathing in something real.
His grip was desperate but gentle, as if afraid it might slip away if he didn't hold on just right.
"That's why," he continued, voice soft but firm, "I don't want to go back to the Upper Realm anymore. I just want to stay here forever with Gege."
There was no hesitation in his voice, no trace of fear or doubt—only pure conviction. Then, like a child confessing a mischievous act, he looked up and added, "I'm sorry, Gege. Actually, I've been lying to you for a while."
"Actually I don't even use talismans to contact them anymore," he added, like it was a trivial thing.
Yizhou said sorry, but the way he said "sorry"—didn't match his expression at all. There was no guilt in his face at all. In fact, he was smiling. That kind of small, contented smile people gave when admitting to something they didn't regret in the slightest.
Sui Sui blinked, momentarily speechless. Before he could react, Yizhou kept going.
"Gege… earlier... I wasn't quiet because I was afraid or sad because of that thief," Yizhou continued. The smile on his lips slowly faded, replaced by something quieter—more fragile.
"I just…hated myself a little. For the first time, I really hated how weak I am."
His voice grew soft, almost breaking on the edges. He looked down at his hands for a moment, then up at Sui Sui, determination flickering in his eyes like a flame caught in the wind.
He looked down as he spoke, shoulders trembling just slightly. But when he raised his eyes again, something had changed.
"I was thinking to myself," he whispered, "I want to protect Gege. The same way Gege protects me. I don't want to just hide behind you anymore."
His golden eyes, once so calm, flickered now like candlelight in the wind—ready to blaze. There was something unplaceable swirling inside them, something dark and silent.
"Gege… do you know?" he murmured, voice so low it was almost inaudible. "Earlier… I really wanted to kill that man."
His words were soft, but the coldness in them ran deep. The smile in his eyes hadn't faded. It stayed—bright, unwavering—making the contrast even more chilling.
"How dare he look at you like that. How dare he insult you. How dare he..."
Yizhou's fingers clenched tighter in Sui Sui's robe, so tight the knuckles had turned pale. His nails dug into the fabric, the thin fabric trembling under his grip.
"I hate him. I really, really hate him. He doesn't have the right to do that, Gege is m—-"
Yizhou stopped abruptly.
Yizhou's eyes were dark now, a storm gathering behind them, but something in him held back—just barely. He blinked once, then twice, as if forcing himself to calm down. Slowly, his gaze lifted to Sui Sui's face.
And then, in the gentlest voice he could manage, he asked:
"Gege… do you hate Yizhou?" His head tilted slightly, like a lost child asking for reassurance. "For being selfish? For thinking like this?"
He looked at Sui Sui, eyes wide, waiting. Hoping. Wanting—Needing—to hear the answer he longed for.
"I don't want to be like this either, Gege. But I can't help it. It's just—" His voice cracked. Then he gave a laugh. But the sound was hollow, thin like it might break at any moment. "This is the first time I've ever felt warmth. The first time I've ever had someone."
"Gege, I think… Yizhou is really going crazy."
Silence followed. A heavy, pressing silence that seemed to swallow the night whole.
Yizhou stood frozen, head bowed, hands still clinging to Sui Sui's robes. His breathing was shallow. Waiting. Bracing himself for rejection.
But instead…
A warm hand gently landed on top of his head, soft fingers lightly ruffled his hair.
Yizhou froze, His eyes widened slightly, lips parting in disbelief. That one small gesture—so steady, so warm—felt like a rope thrown to someone falling into the abyss.
And just like that, his madness quieted.
" You kid… I didn't know you were thinking like this."
Sui Sui let out a breathy laugh, though his voice caught slightly at the end. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His eyes softened as he looked at Yizhou, and suddenly, he remembered.
No matter how calm or rational Yizhou acted—no matter how well he hid it all behind those clear golden eyes—he was still just a child.
A child who, like all children, would latch onto anyone who treated him with a bit of warmth. A child who had never known what it meant to be cherished.
"Gege doesn't blame you at all. Actually, Gege thinks that sometimes… it's okay to be selfish."
Sui Sui's voice was low but steady, each word pressed gently into the air. As he spoke, he reached forward and pulled the boy into a hug. Not a polite one. Not just a pat on the back.
A real hug—solid, grounding, the kind that told someone without words: You're not alone anymore.
Yizhou's shoulders tensed at first, startled by the sudden embrace. But slowly, the rigidness began to melt away. His breath hitched once—soft, almost silent, and his fingers reached out to grip the edge of Sui Sui's sleeve.
"There's no need to hate yourself," Sui Sui continued, voice near Yizhou's ear now. "You didn't do anything wrong. So don't be sad, okay?"
Yizhou remained still for a moment. Then, slowly, as if afraid he'd be pushed away, he raised his arms and wrapped them around Sui Sui's back. His grip was uncertain, but clinging tightly nonetheless—like he was trying to memorize what it felt like to be held.
Sui Sui could feel the faintest tremble in the boy's hands, And then, after a short silence, Sui Sui said something he hadn't told anyone in years.
"It's normal for people to have bad thoughts, you know," he said, voice soft but honest. "Just like you… Gege also had a lot of bad thoughts before."
His gaze shifted slightly, no longer focused on the present but on a memory buried somewhere deep.
"There was once a point in my life where I wished the heavens would fall." His voice lowered, a little bitter—like someone who had survived something but still felt the ache.
"Because I couldn't understand it. Why was the world only cruel to me? If heaven treats all things equally, then why did I suffer alone?"
Sui Sui felt a deep ache stir in his chest—an empathy so raw it caught him off guard. He looked at the boy in his arms and saw a reflection of himself.
They really were the same kind of people.
One was an orphan, passed between three different families like an unwanted package—never staying long enough to be loved, never wanted enough to be kept.
The other was a child who technically had a family, but grew up feeling like nothing more than an afterthought, He was rejected not in words, but in silence, in distance, and cold indifference.
Both were trapped in their own lonely corners of the world, each carrying wounds no one else could see.
But…
Sui Sui thought.
Maybe–just maybe—perhaps… it was fate.
As if fate, pitying them just a little, had gently nudged their paths together.
Not just to meet—
But to save each other.