Life: A Black and White Film (一生一世，黑白影画)

Chapter 12.3 - This Avici Hell (3)

The new day's sunlight shone into where they were, dispersing both yesterday's day and night.

Looking up diagonally from her angle at his chin, she could see his thick lashes peacefully blanketing down over his face. In a somewhat muddled state, she even had a fear that those eyes would never open again.

Why did she have such a foreboding feeling?<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead

Wen Han shifted her body slightly, her palm sliding over from his waist to hook her thumb through his belt, as if doing this would make her feel less uneasy, that she could hold on to him.

Cheng Muyun finally gave a chuckle. Light, unhurried Russian slid, a little at a time, from the tip of his tongue. "Darling, you miss my body?" He opened his eyes, his hands gliding to the underside of her thighs and lifting her up onto his waist. "Come."

"I'm really scared to hear you speak Russian."<>Please read this translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com

"Why is that? Could it be that my Russian makes you feel uncomfortable?" He laughed lightly.

Words were at her lips, but she suppressed them. "No, it's very magnetic."

Did it strike fear in her? Yes, yet right now, it was also like a heavenly sound.

His gaze was like a spell that caused her to instantly lose her ability to resist.

Cheng Muyun. This name to her was still a mystery. Perhaps in this entire lifetime, he would never tell her about all the dark things he had experienced, the tortuous roads he had once walked, and the evil people he had encountered. However, there was no question that from the very beginning, she had never been able to evade him.

"When you first arrived in China, was your Chinese very good?"

"Not good at all. My foundation in it was basically zero."<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com

Wen Han gave an uneasy laugh, feeling unsettled.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com

It was as if he would not speak Chinese to her anymore. Since last night, he had begun more and more frequently to speak in Russian, and now, it seemed as if that man on the train who had flipped through his book had disappeared. Hurriedly, he had come, made an appearance, and then disappeared.

Did this signify that he was making some sort of decision? Or was he simply too grieved over the death of two of his brothers, and this had brought up memories of his days in Moscow?<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.

Cheng Muyun seemed to have seen through her thoughts, and holding her in his arms, he sat himself up directly. His tongue's tip glided from her collarbone to her earlobe. "I remembered something. The dye that I used on you this time is rather special, and I foresee that even several months from now, the henna tattoo that is on you will still be very distinct. If you do not find it to be too much trouble, by then, you could find a tattooist to follow my design and tattoo it onto your body. Trust me, you will not find anyone in Moscow with art and skill better than mine."

After agreeing to do so, Wen Han remembered that he had said he would send her back after three months.

"Here, henna tattoos are good things that are believed to bring good luck and happiness. On important occasions, a woman will purposely get henna done, for example, on her day of engagement, on her wedding day,"—his palm slid along her bosom and down, coming to rest firmly on her abdomen—"during her seventh month of pregnancy, and also for childbirth."

Each word he spoke seemed, one by one, to strike her heart.

"I shouldn't be..." Shouldn't be pregnant.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead

"No." Cheng Muyun spoke with certainty as he told her, "Trust me, I will not leave any trouble for you, nor, even more so, will I allow you to bear any pain or hardships that should not be yours to bear."

Having the child of Cheng Muyun was not any sort of lucky thing. Being an object of revenge, being the target for cruel, purge-like killing, being used—this fate did not suit her.

There was a slight upheaval in Wen Han's eyes.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead

She remembered the wish she had said in her prayer to Buddha on the banks of the Ganges, after she gave a dying, old Indian man money to buy wood to cremate his own body.

So, it turned out that regardless of whether he fell in love with her or not, the final outcome still would not change.

Cheng Muyun unexpectedly changed the topic, asking her if she was fed up with Indian dishes that had texture like paste and if she wanted to have some Western-style food or something else. Before Wen Han could catch up with the cadence of his thought process, he had already turned over and gotten out of bed. As if their embrace and kisses had not even existed, he left that wooden bed, which only just now had still carried a brief moment of tenderness and affection, pulled on his black hiking shoes, and, with seldom-seen seriousness, put on a clean, button-up shirt and his hiking jacket. He then felt his slightly prickly-to-touch, short hair. "I will go have someone prepare some for you. Just look. There is not even a servant here, so I can only make a trip out myself."

Smoothing a hand over her own hair, she burrowed belly-down back into that bed, which still carried the warmth of his body, muttering, "How can you just say you're getting up and then you get right up?"

With a tilt of his head, Cheng Muyun chuckled and went downstairs, his steps light and relaxed.

However, Wen Han did not know that after this man, whom she was waiting for to bring back breakfast, left the building, what he faced were numerous armed special police, some of them Indian officers, some from other countries. They had all been ready with guns in hand to go upstairs and make the arrest, so when they saw the subject of their mission come down of his own accord, they were surprised.

Meng Liangchuan stood rather powerlessly among these people. In a low voice, he stated that he wanted to have a few words with Cheng Muyun. Within the group, there was someone who was a relatively good friend of Meng Liangchuan, and as a result, he was given what was considered an exception.

Walking over, Meng Liangchuan wanted to put an arm around Cheng Muyun's shoulder, but when he stretched his hand over and discovered that Cheng Muyun was too tall, he cleared his throat and pulled his hand back. "This place is not the same as Nepal, where I could keep things under wraps for you. Someone died without any cause or reason. An investigation is necessary, especially since... you and your identity are so special."

No matter how you looked at it, if this type of conduct of unofficial "mole catching" truly had caused the loss of a life, it was a homicide case.

If that life were an innocent one, an explanation and appropriate resolution even more so would be required.

Cheng Muyun did not speak, which could be considered his unspoken agreement.

"Your ears are so sharp. And here I had been worried that if they really did go up, it would scare your woman." After saying this, Meng Liangchuan thought for a moment, then asked, "Be honest and tell me, you weren't the one who killed Zhuang Yan, were you? If it really was you, it doesn't matter which country's laws we're talking about. You will need to pay for that with your life, Cheng Muyun."<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.

本愿经, referring to 《地藏本愿经》Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva Sutra, also known as The Sutra of Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha's Fundamental Vows or The Earth Store Bodhisattva Sutra.