Infinite Train
Chapter 684: Boyfriend
This was a sight No.8 had never seen before.
In this endless plummet, tiny specks of golden light flickered in the flowing shadows, giving the darkness substance and form, effortlessly buoying their bodies like howling winds and racing waves.
The golden specks burst forth like red-hot sparks splashing onto his skin.
Even though so much time had passed, and No.8 thought he had long forgotten the sensation of pain, the feeling of burning was so vivid. It sliced through his stiff, cold skin like a sharp blade, burning him so badly he trembled all over, almost unable to hold back a scream of agony.
It was like floodwaters bursting through a dam, churning up settled silt.
Even things that had long been lost and forgotten were dredged up.
The warmth of sunlight, the touch of a breeze, the smell of flowing water…
“—Hey, hey!!”
It took No.8 a while to finally realize that Wen Jianyan was calling him.
In a slight daze, he turned his head and looked in the direction of the voice.
Not far away, the young man was surrounded by golden specks several times denser than those around him. Those sparks, which caused him such fear and pain, had no effect whatsoever on the other party. Instead, they acted like a dazzling, dense golden river, embracing him tightly and softly.
His voice pierced through the gale:
“Look over there!!”
No.8 was startled and turned to look in the direction Wen Jianyan was pointing.
At this moment, their falling speed had greatly decreased.
By the golden light surrounding them, he could clearly see several irregular fissures crossing the darkness nearby. A faint light seeped through the cracks, revealing a dense, spiraling network of passageways within. They were divided and shattered by the cracks, looking like a jigsaw puzzle that had been smashed and then piled back together.
No.8 focused his gaze.
Through that crack, he caught a glimpse of a familiar corner.
Wait, that’s…
No.8 froze, his eyes lighting up bit by bit.
That was the interior of the cruise ship!!!
In the past, falling into this bottomless darkness would equal death… or a fate even more terrifying than death. But because the cruise ship had once been destroyed, its interior was no longer the monolithic iron block it used to be.
The deeper the floors went, the more fissures stretched through them.
This meant they could completely escape from here!
“Can you make it over?” Not far away, Wen Jianyan asked him loudly.
No.8 shouted back at the top of his lungs, matching the volume: “I think so!!!”
Wen Jianyan’s voice was broken by the violent wind, “When the next crack comes, get out!”
No.8: “Alright!!”
Dan Zhu’s influence didn’t cover the entire cruise ship. The further down they went, the weaker her control became. Although No.8 had no special privileges, as an “employee,” he had spent far more time on this ship than anyone else. If he really wanted to hide, he could make sure no one would find him.
Soon, a fissure appeared beneath him.
No.8 reached out his hand and shouted, “Hold onto me—”
However, this time, Wen Jianyan didn’t grab him.
No.8 froze and turned back:
“What’s wrong?!”
Not far away, Wen Jianyan was floating in mid-air. His clothes billowed in the strong wind like a bird about to take flight. The flickering golden specks surrounded him, weaving through his hair and lightly falling like stars on his eyelashes.
His eyes, too, seemed to hold falling golden light:
“Don’t worry about me!!”
“But—” No.8 opened his mouth.
“Go quickly!!”
Wen Jianyan urged.
“……” No.8 looked at the gradually approaching exit, then turned his head back to look at Wen Jianyan, a trace of hesitation flashing across his face.
Below, that crack was drawing closer, right on the verge of being within reach.
Finally, No.8 gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, and leaped toward it with all his might.
In the blink of an eye, his body squeezed through that gap and disappeared into the darkness.
Wen Jianyan retracted his gaze.
He was still falling.
In the darkness, there was no such thing as up or down. In this seemingly endless fall, it gave the illusion of floating in the air.
In the wild wind, Wen Jianyan’s clothes were blown into a mess. A river-like stream of shattered golden light gathered around him—sometimes near, sometimes far, sometimes converging, sometimes dispersing—leaving a melting warmth on his skin.
Wen Jianyan raised his hand, letting them draw close to his fingertips and pass between his fingers.
Whether it was the temperature or the aura, it was all incredibly familiar.
It felt as though someone’s fingers were interlaced with his in the air.
As if burned, he pulled his hand away, letting the golden specks scatter with his movement.
At this moment, No.8 had already been sent to a safe place.
Now, left in the darkness, there was only Wen Jianyan and his own thoughts.
Too many ideas, too many thoughts crowded the depths of his mind, like a tangled mess of thread that couldn’t be untangled.
Before the fall, he hadn’t had the time to carefully think about anything. After all, there were too many puzzles to ponder, too many problems to solve. Death and threats chased him wave after wave, making him extremely tense and forcing him to run for his life—it almost made him think he had thrown all his thoughts to the back of his mind, no longer troubled by these chaotic emotions.
Until now.
Only now did he suddenly realize that the so-called “throwing to the back of his mind” was nothing but an extremely thin, shallow layer of sand.
A light breeze was all it took to blow it away without a trace.
And everything deliberately buried underneath was sharp, vivid, without fading in the slightest.
Even now, he could seemingly still feel the uneven, eerily meandering curse marks on the other’s skin when he touched it; recall the burning temperature left on his own skin when the thick blood flowed over it; feel the residual touch against his fingertips of a vivid, soft, vigorously beating heart… even the nearly biting kiss lingering on his lips.
The fierce wind blew, lifting Wen Jianyan’s hair.
The howling wind rushed into his ears, but all he could hear was his own chaotic, drumming heartbeat.
After seeing that guy… then what?
What would he do?
What would he say?
Wen Jianyan himself didn’t know.
He didn’t know how long he had been falling…
Suddenly, the golden specks around him swelled for an instant. Wen Jianyan only felt his body being gently lifted upwards. The next second, his feet touched the ground.
At the moment his feet planted firmly, the golden light surrounding him seemed to have completed its mission, dissipating like sparks.
Wen Jianyan staggered for a moment before steadying his body.
He lifted his head and looked around.
It was very dark here, but not completely devoid of light—on the contrary, he could see everything here very clearly.
Wen Jianyan looked up and soon found the source of the light.
Golden veins extended through the air, like glittering rivers flowing quietly in all directions, forming a massive, densely woven net that easily enveloped the entire world.
It was precisely because of its existence that the gradually breaking hull of the ship was bound together.
“……”
Wen Jianyan followed the flow of the golden river to find its source, his steps unconsciously quickening—faster, and faster.
“Wu Zhu—”
He heard his own heartbeat roaring as his feet broke into a run, shouting loudly.
“Wu Zhu!!!!”
Suddenly, his steps came to a hard stop.
Beneath the trickling specks of golden light, Wen Jianyan finally saw the source of the river network.
The man knelt in the darkness, his arms spread wide, hoisted high by the golden threads. Pitch-black curse marks stretched across his pale skin, and fragmented, mirror-like golden patterns floated on his robust upper body, which resembled a marble statue.
Like a silent, forgotten idol.
“………………”
In that instant, all the thoughts swirling in his mind just a moment ago seemed to vanish and clear out, leaving only a clean, pure blankness.
By the time Wen Jianyan realized his feet had moved, he had already rushed directly in front of the other person.
“Wu Zhu… Wu Zhu?”
He squatted down, a nervousness and anxiety on his face that no one had ever seen before.
In a panic, Wen Jianyan cupped the other’s face with both hands, using his fingers to brush aside his long hair, which felt cold as a river, examining him from top to bottom, left to right.
Wu Zhu’s head hung low, his eyes closed just like when Wen Jianyan saw him in the first instance. The upward force that had caught Wen Jianyan’s fall just now seemed to have been a mere residual trace of his consciousness; he himself was still in an uncontrollable deep sleep.
Golden blood continuously flowed from his body, pouring outward tirelessly, endlessly.
“Hey… hey, say something?” Wen Jianyan grew a little anxious. He used his pale, bloodstained fingers to stroke the other’s eyelids, cheeks, and lips, trying to use this method to confirm his existence.
“Oh right!”
Wen Jianyan violently tore the necklace off his own neck.
The heavy golden heart dangled from his fingertips as he urgently presented it forward.
“This, put this back quickly… once it’s back, everything will be fine, right?”
Wen Jianyan lowered his head, somewhat clumsily pressing that heart against Wu Zhu’s chest, trying every way to return it to its original owner. However, the rules here didn’t seem to work that way—no matter what he did, the other’s chest remained intact, showing no intention of taking back the fragment that inherently belonged to his body.
“Fuck… fuck…”
Wen Jianyan cursed, his voice carrying a tremble that even he hadn’t noticed.
“How, how exactly am I supposed to do this?”
His movements were so hasty that he didn’t even notice his own wounds tearing open.
Drops of the human’s warm, bright red blood fell one by one, dripping onto Wu Zhu’s chest.
The fresh blood flowed into the cracks and, as if sucked by some invisible force, disappeared in the blink of an eye.
“……” Wen Jianyan froze for a moment, realizing something.
That’s right.
The curse on Wu Zhu was originally meant to target him, and the spell binding him was none other than his own name. Because of this, anything originating from Wen Jianyan’s body—whether it was blood, flesh, bones, or bodily fluids—would alleviate his pain and restore his power.
Since that was the case—
“It seems that sometimes, the old methods work best.”
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes and ripped off the simple gauze bandaged around his arm.
He didn’t hold back his strength. With just one tug, the wound tore back open, and the warm scent of blood instantly filled the air.
He raised his uninjured hand, gripping Wu Zhu’s jaw, forced his mouth open, and said:
“Open up.”
The human young man’s warm fingers pushed past his teeth, pressing the blood-scented pad of his finger onto his tongue.
“Don’t waste this on me,” he hissed through gritted teeth, drawing in a sharp breath.
More thick, red liquid dripped down his wrist bone in a pitter-patter rhythm, like tiny red snakes winding their way onto Wu Zhu’s shoulders and back.
As more and more fresh blood poured into his throat, Wen Jianyan felt the cold tip of the tongue beneath his fingers—which had been utterly motionless a moment ago—finally begin to stir. It greedily wrapped around Wen Jianyan’s fingers, eagerly and vigorously sucking.
He held his breath and called out softly: “……Wu Zhu?”
“……”
Wu Zhu’s tightly shut eyelids twitched.
Finally, he opened his eyes.
Those golden pupils moved slowly, his gaze focusing until it locked tightly onto Wen Jianyan’s face, which was mere inches away.
“You’re finally awake… you scared me just now,” Wen Jianyan’s tense body finally relaxed, as if an invisible heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against Wu Zhu’s, letting out a long sigh of relief. “You—”
Before he could finish, he felt a hand slowly wrap around his wrist.
The other’s palm was cold and broad, the fingers slender. With just a gentle squeeze, he effortlessly encircled his entire wrist.
Wu Zhu lowered his eyes, his profile pressing against his palm.
He nibbled on Wen Jianyan’s fingertips with his canines, sucking carefully. His scarlet, ice-cold tongue meticulously licked over his skin, drawing every single drop of blood into his mouth without letting any go to waste.
Human blood stained his pale lips and cheeks, making him look eerie and bewitching.
His lips were wet, soft, and cold.
“Hiss……”
Wen Jianyan shuddered, unable to stop himself from drawing in a sharp breath.
The sensation of being bitten and licked traveled from his fingertips. His finger pads were lightly bitten—it didn’t hurt. If he twisted his fingers, he could feel the sharp, hard teeth and the soft, damp oral cavity.
A numb, tingling sensation surged right up his skin like an electric current, connecting straight to his spine.
It even made his knees and lower back go weak.
It took him about half a minute to suddenly realize that his body didn’t seem to… hurt that much anymore?
There were far too many injuries on Wen Jianyan’s body—from the old injury of a crushed wrist bone, to the ribs broken during the train crash, to the large, agonizing cuts sliced cleanly open on his arm. With no medicine and no way to treat them, far too many wounds had accumulated on his body during this time.
But he couldn’t stop, nor did he dare to. He could only force himself to ignore the pain and push forward, covered in bruises and cuts.
Yet at this moment, for the first time in so long…
Wen Jianyan couldn’t feel the pain.
“?!”
Realizing this, Wen Jianyan jolted, abruptly pulling his hand back from Wu Zhu’s grasp.
He looked down, examining his hand.
Beneath the yet-to-dry blood, there was a patch of smooth skin…
The wound had healed.
Seeing Wen Jianyan suddenly and inexplicably pull away, Wu Zhu didn’t understand why, but he still reached out, wanting to grab Wen Jianyan’s wrist again.
On his extended arm, more golden cracks were starkly visible—every single one was identical to the wounds that had been on Wen Jianyan’s body.
Wen Jianyan dodged, avoiding his touch.
He stared fixedly at Wu Zhu, two roaring fires burning deep in his light-colored eyes, and asked slowly, word by word:
“………………What did I tell you before?”
“……” Wu Zhu paused, his gaze flickering for a moment.
Even the most obtuse person could see the other’s current rage.
The next second, the human young man suddenly took a step forward, instantly closing the distance he had just created between them. That vivid face, the one that completely captivated his soul, abruptly pushed close. His light-colored eyes brimmed with light—fervent, sharp, furious.
“Did I ask you to heal me?”
Without waiting for a reply, Wen Jianyan swung his fist, landing a merciless punch right on the side of his face.
Caught completely off guard, Wu Zhu’s head jerked to the side.
“Did I ask you to give me that dream, or that candy?”
Wen Jianyan closed in, bending his knee and pressing it hard against Wu Zhu’s chest.
“Did I ask you to save me?!” He grabbed the other’s throat with both hands, his eye sockets unknowingly turning crimson in his fury.
His voice grew increasingly hoarse.
“Did I ask you to be cursed and imprisoned in my place?!!!”
The surging emotions—suppressed, restrained, and deliberately ignored for so long—were now like a ferocious flood, uncontrollably bursting past his eye sockets and tearing from his throat.
Wen Jianyan heard his own voice twist, break, turn irrational.
“Did I ask you—did I ask you—”
…To make me waver like this, to make me hurt this much?
“……”
Wu Zhu let him press him down and wildly vent his anger. Those brilliant golden eyes gazed at him unblinking, showing neither resistance nor evasion to his actions. Finally, he spoke:
“No.”
“No.”
“No.”
Every answer was more resolute than the last, colder than the last.
He raised his hand, pinning Wen Jianyan’s wrists in place, his tone as calm and matter-of-fact as his gaze.
“Still, no.”
“……………………”
Wen Jianyan suddenly stopped dead, gritting his teeth hard.
He stared straight at the other, suddenly feeling as if all the raging fury in his body had been forcibly shoved back into his chest, turning into a heavy, burning, suffocating mass—stuck there, unable to go up or down, viciously screaming beneath his skin.
If it couldn’t be unleashed through violence, it wouldn’t vent. If it couldn’t taste blood, it wouldn’t be appeased.
And so, he viciously crashed his head forward.
Leaving absolutely no room for retreat, he bit down fiercely onto the other’s lips.
With almost no pause, Wu Zhu returned the favor with double the intensity. He fervently kissed Wen Jianyan’s lips, sucking and tangling with his tongue, forcing Wen Jianyan’s spine to uncontrollably bend backward, only to be forcefully pressed back into his embrace by his large palm.
Wen Jianyan only felt dizzy, his lips, tongue, and mouth turning numb and sore.
A buzzing noise filled his ears, mixed with the chaotic, drum-like beating of his heart, and the wet, ambiguous sounds of their tongues entwining.
He raised his hand, sinking his trembling fingertips into the other’s hair, viciously clenching down as he ripped him away from himself.
“Stop… stop!!”
Wu Zhu panted heavily. His brow was pressed deeply over his eyes, and the light within them was intense and profound, like a beast whose ferocity had been roused. The muscles in his shoulders swelled with tension as if he were holding back with an immense amount of strength. Only the very last shred of reason still bound him, but it was incredibly fragile, utterly devoid of power.
With just a little more force, it would completely snap and break free.
“Shut up, and—listen to me!!”
Wen Jianyan lowered his damp eyelashes. He was panting even harder than Wu Zhu, his throat trembling, making it almost impossible to utter a steady syllable. Yet, he forced himself to state his conditions in the calmest voice he could muster—just like he had done every time before, with a silver tongue, bargaining.
“F-First…”
“I love money, I love enjoying life. S-So, from now on, you have to get me everything I want as much as possible. It’d be best if I could just hold out my hand for clothes to be put on and open my mouth for food to be fed to me.”
He lowered his head, pressing his lips against Wu Zhu’s, pulling back the moment they touched before the other could chase after him.
“Second, I like pretty things. Gold, pearls, anything bright, shiny, and opulent… It’s the same for things as it is for people. So you have to maintain this pretty appearance you have now, don’t let me get tired of you, understand?”
Wen Jianyan pinned the webbing between his thumb and forefinger against Wu Zhu’s throat, forcing him to tilt his head back and look at him, while also forcing himself to look back.
He kept his head lowered. The depths of his eyes seemed to hold a pool of swaying, warm, soft water, but beneath it lay a gleaming, aggressive blade.
He rubbed the pads of his fingers against the other’s cold, tense skin, feeling the coiled, ready-to-strike hunger that seemed eager to swallow him whole, while also realizing that he, too, was trembling slightly under the exact same desire.
“Third, no matter what happens, from now on, you have to listen to me forever… A-As long as I give the word, if I say east, you can’t go west; if I say left, you can’t go right—you can’t refuse, you can’t object, you can’t argue—”
Wen Jianyan’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
He felt the other’s hand pressing onto his back. The cold fingertips made him shiver, but the touch burned him so much he broke into a sweat.
His waist sank uncontrollably, pinned solidly against the other’s firm, tense lower abdomen.
“Say ‘okay’…”
“And you’re my boyfriend now.”
