Reply to Keats - Chap 73 END
73. He Really Replied
Zhao Shengge’s hand closed around his neck—not with force, just slowly stroking—as his cold lips brushed against his nape. He said, “Keats.”
Chen Wan’s mind exploded with a deafening crash; his entire body trembled.
That night was especially brutal. Every touch, every kiss from Zhao Shengge carried a note of punishment.
Chen Wan’s heart was lifted high, then gently let down, again and again. He craved hugs, kisses, comfort.
Zhao Shengge gave a little now and then, but never enough, leaving Chen Wan’s senses and soul suspended, like hanging in a 72-story building, unable to go up or down.
“Zhao Shengge, I’m begging you.”
Chen Wan must have cried. Zhao Shengge called him again, expressionless, “Keats.”
His voice was low, both a warning and a reminder, laced with a cold tenderness that made Chen Wan’s eardrums tremble.
After that, Zhao Shengge stopped speaking. No matter how Chen Wan pleaded, he remained silent, like a wolf: relentless and unyielding.
On the brink of collapse, a flicker of clarity crossed Chen Wan’s mind. He used the last of his strength to grab Zhao Shengge’s hand and weakly said, “I-I was rejecting him.”
Zhao Shengge stopped, his face still unreadable.
Chen Wan was saved. He didn’t know how Zhao Shengge had found out, but if he wanted to know something, there was nothing he couldn’t uncover.
Chen Wan seized this single chance at pardon to explain, “I returned the gift too. I d-didn’t accept it.”
After Chen Wan had politely declined his concert invitation, that local socialite had left him a set of expensive jewelry. Chen Wan didn’t accept it. Still, to avoid offending him, he had sent back a box of tea as a gesture of hospitality, saying it was a specialty from his hometown and inviting him to visit China someday.
Zhao Shengge looked down at the flush spreading across Chen Wan’s neck, his gaze calm. He said softly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“…” Chen Wan struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling.
Zhao Shengge tilted his head and tapped his cheek. “You can do whatever you want. I won’t interfere.”
Chen Wan, using the last of his strength, reached for his fingers and gave them a slight shake. “You can interfere. Do whatever you want.”
Zhao Shengge looked at him, half-smiling, saying nothing.
Chen Wan continued, “Can we go back to the room? Help me open the second drawer of the bookshelf.”
Zhao Shengge studied him for a moment, then picked him up, carried him into the bedroom, placed him on the bed, and wrapped him tightly in a blanket. He opened the second drawer and found the envelope and box Chen Wan had mentioned.
Chen Wan finally caught his breath, though his voice remained faint. “I meant to give you this letter a long time ago, but with everything happening with the Chen family, I never got the chance.”
Leaning against the headboard, Chen Wan looked at him with gentle eyes. “Can you open it and read it?”
Zhao Shengge did as asked. He opened the envelope and lowered his head to read, his expression unclear.
“If you want to know about the past, read this. No need to ask Zhuo Zhixuan. If you want to know about the future, you can ask me.”
Chen Wan reached out and took his hand. “And this synced wristband. The password is your birthday.”
He had granted the highest level of access. Location, vision, audio, and even heart rate, could be synchronized and detected at any time, anywhere. It was nearly indistinguishable from surveillance.
“It’s not because you gave me the foundation or the robot that I’m giving this to you. I’d already started thinking about it after learning about Bozhu. But…” Chen Wan said, “you can consider it a return gift.”
If Zhao Shengge’s need for control couldn’t be satisfied, then Chen Wan would offer himself to the tiger.
Zhao Shengge’s dark eyes stared at him in silence for a moment before he said, “You don’t need to do this.”
Chen Wan weakly tilted his head, gaze full of tolerance, and smiled. “Yes, I do.”
“I can’t actually turn into a puppy to keep you company, but will a digital dog do?”
Zhao Shengge looked at him, still silent.
Chen Wan said, “Mr. Zhao, will you settle for that?”
Zhao Shengge’s fingers moved slightly. He looked at him calmly, almost resigned, and said, “As you wish.” Yet his hands moved without hesitation as he picked up his phone and entered the monitoring command.
The way he studied the wristband was identical to how Chen Wan had toyed with the robot model that day.
“…”
Chen Wan found it a little amusing. “Mm, Zhao Shengge.”
“I know this might be kind of fun, but right now, I just want a bath. You were a bit too rough just now.”
Zhao Shengge fastened the band to Chen Wan’s wrist, picked him up, and carried him into the bathroom. They got into the tub together.
Holding Chen Wan from behind, he checked his phone and said, “Your heart’s beating fast.”
“…”
“Really fast heart rate.”
“…”
“But your breathing and stress levels are within normal range.”
Chen Wan turned to look at him, helpless but sincere. “It’s hard for my heart not to race when you’re holding me like this.”
Then Zhao Shengge did it with him again in the water, still holding him. Water splashed out of the bathtub, and Chen Wan’s wristband emitted a piercing alarm, but Zhao Shengge took it off and placed it in the corner.
***
Since Fang Jian and Xu Zhiying weren’t taking the same flight, Zhao Shengge and Chen Wan decided to return by sea, treating it as a short vacation. Their destination was Feiling Island.
Before boarding the ship, Zhao Shengge drove them to Pangluo.
“You’re buying a boat?” Chen Wan asked, a bit surprised. Zhao Shengge already owned several luxury yachts.
Zhao Shengge turned the key and shut off the engine. “No. You are.”
Chen Wan paused, uncertain when the preparations had even begun.
The cruise ship designer was a white man. The interior was nearly complete, and two models had been made—one large, one small.
With his engineering background, Chen Wan was naturally drawn to the models, quietly impressed by the luxurious, sophisticated design.
Zhao Shengge, seeing how captivated he was, said, “Take this one with you.” Normally, only one model was made per ship, but Zhao Shengge had specifically requested a second.
Chen Wan’s eyes curved into a smile. “Then I’ll display it in my office.”
The designer asked them, “Do you have a name in mind for the ship? We’ll need it for registration, and later we’ll paint it on the hull.”
Still looking at the model, Chen Wan said to Zhao Shengge, “You gave it to me, so you name it.”
Zhao Shengge replied, “Then let’s call it the Keats.”
Chen Wan’s eyes curved with a smile, and he agreed.
Zhao Shengge: “When the Baoli Bay Pier is completed, let the Keats take its maiden voyage there.”
Chen Wan paused.
For a moment, everything felt dreamlike.
When the Baoli Bay project was first launched, Chen Wan had genuinely fantasized about owning a yacht and making the maiden voyage from Baoli Bay. But back then, it had seemed like nothing more than a pipe dream.
Now, Zhao Shengge had commissioned a custom cruise ship for him and was inviting him to take that maiden voyage.
When Chen Wan didn’t respond right away, Zhao Shengge continued, “You’ll decide the maiden route. We can honeymoon at sea. What do you think?”
“Chen Wan?”
Chen Wan’s gaze came back into focus. He let go of the model and reached for Zhao Shengge’s hand, saying softly, “Honeymoon?”
“…” Zhao Shengge looked at him calmly. “You heard me.”
Chen Wan gave that helpless smile of his again. “Weren’t you unwilling to make it official? Still pursuing me?”
Zhao Shengge replied without hesitation, “I can keep pursuing you after marriage.”
Chen Wan smiled and nodded. “Alright.”
Zhao Shengge then turned back to the designer to discuss design details, such as adding a bowling alley, since Chen Wan seemed to enjoy bowling, and a fishing deck, because Chen Wan sometimes went fishing and Zhao Shengge would accompany him by sleeping nearby.
While Chen Wan stepped aside to take a phone call, the designer said to Zhao Shengge with admiration, “Good man.”
Zhao Shengge looked up from the contract and shook his head.
It was Chen Wan who was the good one.
No matter how much Zhao Shengge did, it would never compare to what Chen Wan had done.
That afternoon, they boarded the ship. The sea was calm as they sailed southward along the North Pacific winter current.
Feiling Island lay at latitude x°26′ north and longitude y°55′ east, north of the equator and south of the Tropic of Cancer. The tropical monsoon climate brought abundant rainfall and made it summer all year round.
They arrived at the dock at dusk. The sky was painted in brilliant colors, clouds ablaze like fire, as if the flames were about to sink into the sea.
Chen Wan rested both hands on the railing, his hair tousled by the sea breeze. He said, “Sometimes, looking at the ocean makes you realize how small we humans really are. There’s so little we actually get to decide.”
Even something as vast as the Full Moon Channel was just a drop in the ocean when measured against the tides of time.
Standing beside him, Zhao Shengge said, “Then control the things you can decide.”
Do your best, and stay at peace.
Chen Wan turned to look at him, a faint smile in his eyes. “Zhao Shengge.”
“Are you really able to stay this rational and objective all the time?”
“No.” Zhao Shengge lowered his gaze to meet his. “You know the exception.”
Chen Wan smiled.
After disembarking, they passed a coastal park where tourists were having picnics and someone was playing the accordion.
Locals were selling tropical fruits, flower leis, and postcards. A blonde, blue-eyed mother bought her child a bunny-shaped balloon.
The doll-like child grinned broadly and ran into the sea breeze.
Chen Wan watched for a while, lost in thought. Zhao Shengge asked him, “Which one do you want?” He never asked if Chen Wan wanted something, only which one.
As a man nearing thirty, Chen Wan was too embarrassed to choose a balloon, so he picked a postcard. If you paid to mail it, you could get a Feiling Island postmark.
Chen Wan picked up a pen, and Zhao Shengge instinctively stepped in to shield him from the setting sun.
Chen Wan didn’t know what to write or who to send it to, because the person he cared about most was already by his side.
Zhao Shengge saw him look up, thinking he was about to speak, and leaned down.
Chen Wan said nothing. He just smiled with his eyes, kissed him once, then lowered his head and wrote on the card—
Keanu Reeves, you really replied.
—The End—
Author’s Note:
The side stories are available at @清明谷雨子, click the “Articles” tab to view them.
News about the physical book release and the audio drama will be updated on Weibo.
Wishing you all to receive your own reply from life. Until we meet again.
Translator’s Note:
Hello! I know I said I might go back and do the beginning chapters too, but translating has turned out to be way more time-consuming than I expected, so I won’t be able to work on those for now. Hopefully, someone with more time and energy can pick it up.
The side stories are on the author’s Weibo, as they mentioned.
Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you have a lovely day!
Signing out,
bibi & dajie
