Chapter 11: The First Quarrel

“Did I? No, I didn’t.” Bai Wei wanted to skip over this topic.

Lusen said, “You ate very little for dinner, you weren’t very enthusiastic when we kissed, and every night, you usually read. Tonight, you didn’t.”

“It’s just a lack of appetite now and then, or not wanting to read for a change. Don’t you believe in coincidences in this world?”

Bai Wei tried to brush it off. But Lusen, as if not understanding the hint, insisted, “But today, it’s obviously not a coincidence.”

Heavens, why did he have to be so persistent? Bai Wei felt irritated, even a little angry.

They could have had a perfectly peaceful evening—Lusen reading his book, Bai Wei pondering what to do tomorrow. No arguments, no conflict. He could have even observed whether Lusen was as cunning as a fox. But Lusen’s untimely questioning had ruined it all.

“If I didn’t say anything, what makes you think I’m upset?” Bai Wei asked.

He was clearly more displeased than before. Lusen, too, was confused, unsure of what he’d done wrong.

Lusen had come from the depths of the ocean, parentless, and when he took human form as a mercenary, the only relationships he’d built with teammates were mutually beneficial. He knew that, for humans, property and social status were passed down through “family.” To develop steadily in human society, to have accumulated relationships, wealth, and standing, merging into a human family was the best choice.

Bai Wei was elegant, calm, good-tempered, emotionally stable, learned, and from an ancient family—conveniently, he was also “Lusen’s” fiancée. There was no better candidate for a “settled life” than Bai Wei. Moreover, Bai Wei himself was beautiful; possessing him was a wonderful thing.

That had once been Lusen’s thinking.

Now, Bai Wei was signaling the desire to “build a happy family.” Through this, Lusen discovered a new meaning of “family” for humans—something beyond the combination of property, status, and relationships. He didn’t understand this new definition, but Bai Wei’s care for him made him feel wonderful, so he began striving to play the role of “good husband.”

Lusen knew he was clueless. But he was eager to learn; he picked up novels and watched TV dramas to study what a good husband should do. For example, today, he was concerned about Bai Wei’s mood, and felt he’d done nothing wrong.

Yet he couldn’t understand why Bai Wei was growing more and more upset.

“All right, but I sensed it,” Lusen said.

“But does this affect you in any way?” Bai Wei asked.

Lusen was silent for a while, clearly pondering. After a moment, he said, “In theory, it shouldn’t really affect me.”

Bai Wei washed his face at the sink, then glanced at the gas stove. Pretending to go out shopping as an excuse to let Lusen die of gas poisoning was a nice option. The problem was, they’d argued today—he didn’t want to make a move so obviously after a quarrel.

So the next week would be a peaceful one—Bai Wei decided to let time handle things. When he was young, his mother and father argued constantly; after moving to his grandfather’s house, there was never a hint of quarrel, every dispute was handled by family law. The only way Bai Wei could think to muddle through this quarrel was to wait for the renovations to be complete.

Then, he could reasonably make up with Lusen, claiming he was happy with their new home, and continue with his murder plan.

Bai Wei turned over to switch off the light; Lusen was still beside him looking at his phone. When the room went dark, he heard Lusen’s muffled voice: “Did we… have a fight tonight?”

Without waiting for Bai Wei’s reply, Lusen continued to mumble, “We didn’t say much, and there was no physical fight, but it feels like we argued.”

Bai Wei: ...

If Lusen hadn’t been so talkative, the mood tonight wouldn’t have soured! Once Bai Wei calmed down, he could have gently said to Lusen, you’ve worked hard cooking, I’d like to eat more of your food, tomorrow morning I’ll buy groceries, you can rest at home, and then, on his way out, turn on the gas.

But Lusen just had to talk so much. He backed Bai Wei into a corner, shattered the “harmonious atmosphere” of their household, and forced him to delay his murder plan.

Lying under the covers, Bai Wei began to feel angry again. He could hardly understand his own thoughts. After all, Lusen would die sooner or later—why was he even angry at him? It reminded him of his first intended victim.

A homeless man outside the Black Harbor City television station.

That vagrant was a drug addict, a gambler, and in his youth had been imprisoned for molesting children. After his release, he camped outside the TV station where Bai Wei worked, spat everywhere, exposed himself, harassed Bai Wei’s colleagues and subordinates, and began stalking an intern. Bai Wei called the police several times, twice shoved him into a sack and dumped him at a Black Harbor homeless shelter, but twice the man left the shelter and returned to the station.

Bai Wei had once been furious with him, but the anger vanished completely once he decided to murder him.

With Lusen, no matter how he planned the murder, Bai Wei remained angry. He knew that if he started smoothing things over now, he might speed up the process of killing Lusen.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Normally, Bai Wei was so goal-oriented, willing to make any sacrifice to achieve what he wanted.

Lusen went on, “I’ve thought about it for a long time. Your being angry doesn’t really affect me, but I feel sad. I don’t know why. On one hand, seeing you unhappy makes me sad. Maybe it’s because I think you’re pitiful.”

…If only he’d stop talking. Bai Wei gritted his teeth.

Lusen continued, “On the other hand, I feel sad because you’re clearly upset but won’t say why. So maybe tomorrow, or the day after, or a few days from now, you’ll still be unhappy for the same reason. Thinking about that makes me sad.”

Bai Wei: …

“Don’t you think you’re the one ruining the atmosphere?” Bai Wei said. “If you hadn’t brought it up, we could have had a peaceful night.”

“But you’d still be unhappy,” Lusen said.

“But I wouldn’t say anything,” Bai Wei replied.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything, if you’re unhappy?”

The conversation circled back to the beginning. At that moment, Bai Wei thought of his family—the first family, with him and his mother and father, living by the White Sea. His parents had betrayed their clan, eloped, and settled there. They talked every day, argued every day.

Until they smashed each other’s heads with a vase, and his mother took him to Black Harbor.

Life in Black Harbor was quieter than ever before. His mother, Bai Ju, was a pale, silent woman. When not quarreling with his father, she actually spoke little. Very occasionally, she let Bai Wei see her old photographs. She had short hair, wore men’s clothes, and posed under a wall of ivy at the naval academy, looking calm and stubborn.

“At that time, I was once my father’s pride,” his mother mused for a long time as she looked at the photo, then said softly, “Did you know? My father never called me ‘daughter.’ He always called me ‘son’ and said I was his pride.”

“I was wrong. I can’t quarrel with him, I can’t go back. I’m not the captain of my own life; I can only die in a foreign land.”

Later, his mother died of illness. He lived with her corpse for over a week, until the neighbors, smelling the stench in the summer, discovered that only a young child was there, washing his mother’s body every day. The neighbor called the police; that was the first time Bai Wei met his grandfather.

His grandfather leaned on a cane, looking for a moment as if he’d collapsed. But soon he regained his stern dignity and took Bai Wei home.

After that, Bai Wei never quarreled with his grandfather. The thick family rules of the Bai family were the standard for everything in life. Besides, what “trivial matters” were really worth arguing about? And his grandfather, as a cripple, had managed to keep the Bai family’s vast estate, which already proved his correctness.

But Bai Wei’s current family was a mess. No rules, no plan, no future. He didn’t want to argue with Lusen over trivial matters, either. He didn’t know how to argue, and, besides, he already planned to kill Lusen.

Lusen said, “Is it because the repair shop is too small? In a few days, we’ll be able to move home.”

“…”

Lusen tried again, “Is it because you’re worried about the repair shop’s income? I’ve been thinking—maybe opening a guesthouse in town would be a good idea.”

“…”

Lusen said, “Or is it because you feel inadequate about your low libido? Darling, I’ll find a solution soon…”

Bai Wei could not stand it any longer. He threw back the covers, turned to Lusen, and said, “How could you put all the ingredients for red wine beef stew into instant noodles?”

Lusen: “Huh?”

Bai Wei: “And you added the pickled vegetable seasoning packet? I told you I wanted red wine beef stew tonight.”

“…I put red wine in the instant noodles too,” Lusen replied.

Bai Wei’s stomach began to churn. In despair, he realized he’d actually eaten a mouthful of that abomination tonight.

Lusen scratched his head. “I thought it would be more nutritious that way. Sorry. Is this taste really that bad for us humans?”

Bai Wei: …

Utter nonsense. He took a few deep breaths, finally managing to calm himself. “Honey, I was making a fuss over nothing.”

Three days from now, I’ll kill you.

“Oh, it’s not making a fuss,” Lusen said earnestly. “Eating is important. I’ve seen many people starve to death.”

He meant it. The first time he came ashore, having randomly copied a human form, he found himself in a war-torn country. There, he had indeed seen many people die of hunger.

It was then that he realized—for humans, and for monsters like him with no kin—eating, living, sleeping, and even going to the toilet were all incredibly important.

Bai Wei felt both exasperated and sad. He didn’t know why Lusen’s words hurt so much. He buried himself under the covers, pretending to sleep.

“Please forgive me. I’ll cook for you every day,” Lusen said sincerely. “I don’t know what tastes best, but I’ll keep trying.”

Bai Wei said nothing. He just kept up the pretense, hiding under the blankets.

He and Lusen were both in bed, but each in their own cocoon, separated by different layers of bedding.

—He is safe, Bai Wei thought.

The next morning, Bai Wei woke up first. He looked at the sprawled Lusen beside him and recalled last night.

It seems the quarrel is over, Bai Wei thought.

But as he left the kitchen to head to the market, Bai Wei paused and doubled back.

He closed the open gas valve.

Renovations took longer than Bai Wei had expected. He and Lusen ended up staying at the repair shop for another ten days. After ten consecutive days of eating Lusen’s cooking, Bai Wei finally reached his limit.

On a bright, sunny Wednesday morning, he got up early, using grocery shopping as his excuse, and before leaving, he opened the gas valve.