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In a world of vast seas and bare skies; of lush greens and grainy earth; of humans, their offspring and families—a world in a cycle of night and day—laid a solitary mountain, a peak covered in white and stripes of grey. It stood tall, almost reaching the skies. As high as its top surpassed the clouds, so was it as distant from other living things. Four rivers were born out of this mountain, and a fifth stretched around its base, separating it from any man who dared journey out this far.
Among the white snow was a hint of olive green. It was moving, trudging through the snow calmly. It was a man, who in his subconscious knew he shared the name of the mountain: Kunlun.
Kunlun stopped nearby a tree that was leafless all year round, a tree he named Naked Tree. He bent down, held a handful of snow and rubbed it between his fingertips and thumb. ‘There will be light snowing tonight,’ he thought to himself, and looked at the sun that appeared to be near yet distant at the same time.
Man toil the earth for sustenance,
Creatures of the land huddle together in a cave from the cold,
Feathered-beings lay asleep, perched on a branch,
Winds carry seedling to fairer ground.
What about Kunlun?
Clothed in a simple off-white robe under an outer layer of green, Kunlun crossed his legs languidly and sat down on a portion of snow uneven from his footsteps. He looked at the horizon, incomprehensible thoughts drifting through his mind. The colour of the sky blended with reddish hues, turning purple, signaling the end of noon. Yet another day.
He retreated to a stoney corner of the mountain, to a place which he calls his place of slumber.
You see, Kunlun didn’t have urges to eat nor drink. Needless to say, he didn’t feel the fatigue that set in during the night. If he had wished, he could avoid getting wet from the rain, or tanned from the sun. Even so, sometimes he would venture down to the grassy field, his Land of Grass, at the base of the mount to taste a fruit or two, or to check on the growth of the tree he had planted. Sleep, however, was something he chose to do every day. There was a time when he stayed up all night gazing at the stars, looking at the black expanse till it was no longer black, and then went about his routine. His yesterday converged with his tomorrow, and he didn’t like how that made him feel.
The surface of the spot where he slept was rather flat, so it wasn’t uncomfortable. Kunlun laid on his back, fingers intertwined, hands placed on his midriff. He slept.
Kunlun sleeps, discerning not if he dreams,
Waiting for time to pass, in a moment that never ends,
He waits,
And waits.
He roused from sleep when he felt like it. He stood up, stretched, and went about his day—dusted his spot with his outer robe, strolled around his mountain, whistling off and on, talked to Naked Tree and enquired of its day.
It was nearing evening, so he sat on the same patch of snow as yesterday and gazed afar. It had been a while since the last visit to his tree in the field, he thought. Perhaps he could walk down to the Land of Grass tomorrow; it was getting late today.
Kunlun was looking at the faded blues of the faraway lesser mountains when a dark dot invaded the canvas of his sight. It grew larger, slowly, and seemed to be approaching. Taken aback, he stood up clumsily, almost falling back down in the process, mouth opened in surprise.
Could it be… a person? The dot grew bigger.
Kunlun couldn’t decide whether to run forward or back away. There was a heavy desire for the latter, his instinct had warned him of danger. He had been on this mountain ever since he awoke to consciousness and no other being had stepped foot on his territory—no wandering travelers or warriors from the outer region near the mountain who sought adventure or shelter, no long-time friends (he didn’t have any) who brought over jugs of alcohol to celebrate a rare reunion—no one.
He felt a tingling on his skin, a burst of incoherent thoughts in his mind, the sudden rush of adrenaline—all in unison screaming the same thing: Run!
He was about to turn but the sole of his feet felt like a boulder and he was forced to stay put. Cold sweat beaded at his forehead and his back, feeling every emotional and physical response, but there was one part of him that stood against the torrent in calmness: his heart. Like a sturdy rock standing still amid a raging river, it told him, Stay.
Kunlun stood still.
Kunlun now noticed something odd about the person. He imagined if someone visited such a grand mountain, they’d be filled with wonder, eyes and limbs would not rest: they would excitedly turn and flail, jump and explore. This person—whatever he was—appeared too calm. Kunlun’s outer robe was conspicuous enough to be seen from that distance; why did he seem unsurprised at meeting the first soul after 7,000 miles of mostly barren land?
There was only one suspicion in his mind, but he wouldn’t be the first to move; he’ll wait for the other to come to him.
As soon as the person’s face could be seen, Kunlun’s senses once again were not his own: now in reverse, he was as still as a rock while his heart tossed and leapt. He didn’t notice that the figure had closed the distance between them.
“Good day,” the man in plain black robe said.
Kunlun didn’t reply.
“Greet...ings?” the man tried again, looking uneasy.
Concerned? That brought Kunlun out of his stupor. “Good day,” he said, giving a modest bow. The man returned it, awkward and slow. Shy?
“I ... I lost my way,” Black Figure said while rubbing his right thumb against his index finger.
Liar.
“And before I knew it, I found myself up here,” now with a slight frown on his face, avoiding looking at Kunlun in the eye. It was obvious that Black Figure was lying, but Kunlun spared the man for now.
Black Figure was a man of few words; they found themselves in an awkward moment of silence. As the host, Kunlun felt it was his duty to make the guest feel welcomed; whether he was a sheep or wolf under the wool, he will deal with that if his life was under threat. “It is getting dark, follow me,” he said, gesturing with a delicate sweep of his robe towards the grey part of the mountain nearby. The man followed quietly along.
“What is your name?” Kunlun asked.
“You can call me ... Wei.”
“Wei?” an obvious question on his face.
“Just Wei,” the man looked up and gave a half-smile.
“Fine. Brother Wei then,” Kunlun said and turned towards the place of slumber without giving Wei any chance to protest the way of addressing him. Calling the man ‘Sir’ was too formal and just ‘Wei’ felt too intimate to Kunlun. He wasn’t going to let his guard down with a stranger he had just met—especially a stranger whose motive of coming up this nearly-uninhabited mountain was still a mystery.
Kunlun pointed to a flat surface of stone and said, “My space,” and proceeded to repeat the same motion at a similar, empty area of stone near his, “Yours.” He expected Wei to feel offended for the lack of better lodgings, but Wei appeared nonchalant, and gave an equally nonchalant, “Sure.”
Kunlun flopped down onto the area marked out as his. “Well, I will be retiring for the night now. If you like, you may take a tour around the mountain by yourself.” There’s nothing here for you to steal anyway, eyes slightly narrowing as he looked at Wei.
“I will retire for the night too,” Wei said, and flopped down in a similar manner as Kunlun, wearing an oddly satisfied look.
“Suit yourself.” Kunlun laid down and brought his hands behind his head, relaxed but still alert. After a short while, Kunlun asked, “Where are you from?” turning his head to the man beside him.
What greeted him was not the sight of a person who had just turned his head towards an enquirer; Wei’s whole body was resting on its side, left hand on the ground near his face; his eyes a mix of emotions.
Was he watching me?
Wei’s eyes widened slightly as if caught unaware, but within less than a second had returned to his usual calm demeanour, pretending it was nothing.
“I ... Do you really want to know?” Wei raised his eyebrows with the question.
“Yes,” Kunlun answered without a pause.
Shifting to his back, the air of him changed into someone more matured than the age he appeared to be, sharing his words unhurriedly, as if calling up a past of many years.
“I was born in a land full of greens and grass, of a field that stretched afar. There were many others who lived with me.” Wei exhaled and smiled out of fondness, “It was a land of plenty; we had more than adequate; we had no lack.”
Wei looked at Kunlun, signaling that he had said enough for now. There was also something else in that gaze, but Kunlun didn’t know him well enough to perceive what it was. He looked at those dark, black eyes, and let out a light laugh, expression softening. Kunlun did not know why, but his chest was filled with a comforting sensation.
“Thank you for telling me your story.” It may have been a vague answer, but at least he had a past. Kunlun faced the sky, “Unfortunately, I do not have one to tell,” he paused to wait for questions such as ‘Why not?’, but there was none. No pressure, just a presence patiently waiting, listening. It was relaxing, like the night breeze that was washing over them, cool and silk-like over cloth and exposed skin.
“I do not have memories about how I came to be here on this mountain, I just was. Whenever I tried to recall what happened, of my past, I will always reach a dead end.” Wei made a sound to show that he was listening.
“I just go about my day, doing the same things, and wai—” Waiting? “—and the days just go by. So this…” This is the first time… “…this is the first time I have company,” Kunlun looked at Brother Wei and gave a smile that showed his teeth, surprising even himself of such an expression. Wei’s eyes widened and he turned over to the other side, curled up in a near-fetal position. For a time, silence surrounded them. Kunlun waited for the man’s reply, but what came was just, “It’s getting late. Let’s sleep.”
Kunlun slightly raised an eyebrow in question—not that Wei could see it, facing the other way—and gave in to the clear indication of the end of the conversation. “Alright. Good night.”
Kunlun closed his eyes, and thoughts gathered in his mind. There were many, each wanting attention, but not in a rushed manner that interrupted rest. Some of the thoughts that caught his attention were:
Are you crazy, sleeping beside someone (or something) that could eat you up?
Why did I think of “eating”?
I guess I am crazy.
He could do anything to you.
So be it.
Aren’t you afraid?
I guess I am not.
Why aren’t you?
I…
Why do you not care?
…
I…
I trust him…
…and I don’t know why.
And listening to the breath of someone next to you feels…
…nice.
*
Kunlun woke up being able to feel his limbs and the extension of toes and fingers. Bewildered somewhat, yet part of him was sure he would be safe, almost with the same confidence that the sun will rise from the east.
Brother Wei rose at the same time as Kunlun, his hair flat on one side, face and eyes as alert as it was yesterday. The hair looked out of place when coupled with such a serious expression, and Kunlun wanted to laugh, but held it in and kept a calm facade.
“Good morning,” Kunlun greeted his neighbour with a half grin. Wei nodded and returned the greeting. With hands enveloping his knees, Wei appeared to Kunlun like a child waiting for orders, or a mild-tempered puppy that was aware of its master’s every movement but pretended otherwise. He looked at this black puppy and was, for a moment, at a loss of what to do with it. In the end, he figured the best thing was to do what he normally does, and let Wei decide if he wanted to come with him.
As predicted, soon after Kunlun was done tidying his rock chamber and set off for a morning walk, he could see black at the corner of his eye whenever he turned to his sides to inspect his surroundings.
As Kunlun walked around the mountain with his arms crossed, Wei followed obediently behind and watched without saying a word. Kunlun couldn’t decide if he liked the current arrangement; while he now had a puppy on his trail, it wasn’t awkward or odd. On Brother Wei’s end however, Kunlun thought it wouldn’t be all that interesting to constantly keep to the back of someone strolling aimlessly—there had to be something better to do.
He then recalled an idea, an agenda for today: “Would you want to go to the field, the Land of Grass?” he turned around. Wei tilted his head upward to meet Kunlun’s eyes, looking somewhat surprised.
“I thought of going there yesterday but it was already too late in the evening. It may not be an appealing idea when you must have crossed that same field to reach here, but I am certain it is a much better choice than following this boring person all day. What say you?”
“You are not boring,” Wei said softly, but sounding a little curt.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’d want to go, please,” a hand gripped the side of his robe.
“Sure, let’s go,” Kunlun said, exhaling and proceeding right down the mountain.
*
The journey was long, with only each other for company, walking along to the sound of crunching snow from their feet. Kunlun, who was in front of Wei most of the time, had slowed down and now took his place beside Wei, his shoulder almost touching the other’s.
The weather was cool and not too sunny, and at the back of Kunlun’s mind, he thought this weather the most perfect for a day in the field with a guest. He glanced at that guest of his who was looking at the ground with a small frown on his face. He sure likes to frown. With that thought came a gust of wind that blew upwards toward them, while strips of green tickled their soles and toes—they have arrived.
The field was indeed teeming with grass, befitting its given name. The grass varied from short to tall, the tallest reaching knee-high. A few different types of trees were scattered across this wide area, bordered by Mount Kunlun’s wide fifth river.
Green was the predominant colour below the blue sky in the field of one’s vision, but upon closer look, flowers peeped from under the grass, some budding, some in bloom.
Kunlun took in the view, feeling very contented and proud. Like a prized treasure, the Land of Grass was the part of the mountain that brought him the most joy.
After taking in his fill, Kunlun went over to where Wei had bent down to inspect a small patch of dark and black flowers. Wei’s hand hovered gently over them, a caress mindful of their fragility, for they were a tiny species. The moment felt intimate, so much so that Kunlun thought it would be impolite to utter a word and demean the value of it, but it was Wei who first spoke:
“I didn’t expect to come here so soon with you,” still bent down, a hand touching the flowers with the back of his fingers.
The line flew by Kunlun as he did not understand it; he was certain Wei saw his confusion, but rather than an explanation, what he received was only a smile when Wei stood and looked at Kunlun with eyes that seemed to hold so much. What are you thinking about, Wei? The thought remained in his mind; words did not leave his mouth.
Wei stood still. A delicate breeze blew past them, lifting a few strands of hair along with it.
There were many questions billowing in Kunlun’s mind; confusion, curiosity, and doubt melded into one and were thrashing about. Yet, he could not deny an odd sense of familiarity that arose from the scene that was before him, brought to mind by Wei’s words. The most peculiar was the certainty that he understood it all. Understood what exactly?
Frowning, he unconsciously released a grunt as he turned aside. “Wei,” he said seriously. Wei’s eyes widened slightly. “Isn’t it about time you told me who you really are?”
Still not facing Wei, he could feel that Wei kept his stance, eyes on him, at ease despite being asked a straightforward question. Wei said, voice faint but steady, “I will make it known to you one day.”
Kunlun sighed and closed his eyes, thinking. They stood there for a while, unmoving. He then released a breath and said, “Let’s go back,” turned towards the peak, and walked upwards without giving Wei a glance.
It didn’t matter that Kunlun had wanted to visit his tree today, or that he had thought of small spontaneous plans for his guest in the field along the way here. He was no longer in the mood nor in the right state of mind and he needed to go back. The bleak grey stones and snowy scene weren’t exactly comforting but it was most familiar to him—something he understood.
As with the journey here, the walk back was the same, save for a much weightier air that hung between them. It wasn’t an easy quiet of two strangers getting to know one another, but a quietness that was coerced from prudence and wariness.
*
When they had reached the peak, Kunlun was finally left alone. He sat at his usual spot and looked at the evening sky while Wei kept out of sight, perhaps at the opposite edge where Kunlun was.
Some time went by that way; the sun set, but the black figure had yet to return. Funny how Kunlun now expected the stranger of yesterday to walk back here like a perfectly normal daily occurrence. This brought out a huff from Kunlun, who slapped his thigh and got up, dusted snow off his robe with a few sweeps of his hand, and proceeded to go on the same trail as his walk this morning—Wei was bound to be found along the way.
As expected, Wei was sitting on the snow in a manner alike Kunlun’s, looking at the night sky. That sight of Wei’s back reminded Kunlun of the impression of that same obedient puppy who was waiting patiently for the time when the owner would come and fetch him. So, I am the owner now?
Kunlun watched Wei from behind, arms crossed loosely.
“Wei,” Kunlun said, and the man who was called turned his head imperceptibly, his face seen in profile. Kunlun felt he didn’t need to say more to get his message across and walked back to prepare for sleep. The puppy followed.
When they reached their designated spots, Kunlun took off his green robe and handed it over to Wei without facing him, saying, “There was light snow yesterday, so it will be colder tonight. Take this; I don’t get cold.”
“I don’t get cold either,” Wei said matter-of-factly. Kunlun’s hand hung in midair, then withdrew. He held the robe for a moment, then put it back on.
Another thing added to the Wei-doubt pile.
He would have preferred going straight to sleep without a word, but rather not risking a missing puppy in the middle of the night, he chose to say, “Good night.”
Many thoughts ran through his mind; Wei seemed to affect him this way. He had thought and thought till he could see all his thoughts liquifying into a half-folded leaf, dripping downwards and forming at the end, something he had to ask himself, Do you, or do you not, want to trust him?
That was the question he would sleep on.
*
The next morning when Kunlun woke up, the black figure was still on his side of the space. Kunlun looked at Wei’s sleeping countenance with a mellow expression, as if searching for something that could be found in his guest’s face, when the answer he truly sought for had already been found in his heart.
And so, the two men live like this, without much variance day in and day out; three years went by, and the query of Wei’s origin was never mentioned again even once.
*
Kunlun held up a handmade wooden teacup and sipped tea brewed over a small outdoor fire. He was admiring the usual view from the peak of his mountain, which now encompassed a man in a neat black robe, whom Kunlun thought would be the handsomest when positioned among other men.
Wei was making an object out of wood with a sharp-edged stone. A slice of fine wood fell on the ground, then another.
Kunlun lifted an eyebrow, wondering when Wei would take notice of his stares and turn his head to look at him with those eyes that hinted of stars. He gave up after waiting for a while and decided to say something instead.
“Today’s tea has a more distinct taste than the ones before; I like it.” It may have been a sentence made to catch the attention of the man, but it was also true: Kunlun did indeed like this tea made from indigo flowers that fell from their stems; Wei had said, as he cupped the flowers gently in his palms, that they would be glad to serve and be of use to Kunlun.
“Oh...” he paused; Kunlun was sure that he was making a mental note, “...I boiled the tea longer this time. It seems to help in drawing out the flavour,” his hand coming up to touch the side of his chin.
“It would seem so,” Kunlun took another sip from his cedar-coloured cup.
Kunlun felt oddly reminiscent today. It was not due to the stillness of the day, for their time spent together tended to lean on the quiet side; it was also not because of Wei’s attention being focused on something other than Kunlun, as he did that occasionally. Ah, maybe it was the thin trail of smoke Kunlun saw the other day. It made him uneasy yet excited: uneasy about the interruption of the same comfortable constant of everyday, and excited for new things to come.
“Wei.”
The man let his hand relaxed onto his lap, turning to look at Kunlun and listened.
“I forgot to tell you the other day: I saw smoke in the horizon. It must have been a human campfire from nearby.” Wei’s body stiffened almost unnoticeably. “Humans reaching this mountain is an imminent event. I wonder how things would be like then.” A jaw clench. “What do you think will happen?”
Wei’s head drooped and turned to look at his woodwork. He continued staring, the question left unanswered.
Kunlun found this response odd; barring the question about his origin, Wei had always answered his questions no matter how weird, nonsensical, or bizarre they were. He gave the man time, but it only further confirmed that Wei was avoiding the question, or that he was in deep thought. This went on for a few days—no dialogue between them, not even a word or sound of affirmation from Wei when Kunlun tried to talk to him.
One night, when they were about to turn in, Kunlun decided he should do something about this current state they were in.
“Has something been bothering you, Wei?”
About to lie down, Wei paused in mid-action. Silence, but Kunlun wouldn’t let this go as easily as his query on the smoke he saw. He was used to waiting for Wei to answer, and this time was no different.
When he was about to ask again, Wei spoke, “What do you think will happen?” Replying a question with another question? Alright.
“What I think? I think humans will make this mountain their home.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“If they are a peaceful bunch, we could try living amicably. If they’re ruthless, we could look for another mountain, or chase them out instead.”
“We?”
“We? Of course! Who else but us?”
“...”
A twist in Kunlun’s gut. “You do not want to stay, or come with me?”
“That is not what I meant.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“What if I don’t want to stay or go along with you?”
“You don’t?”
“What if I don’t?”
Another twist, an uncomfortable swelling in his chest. “If you don’t, I’ll ... I’ll ...” Kunlun thought, “go with you. I’ll go with you.”
“Why?”
“Why? Haven’t we been together these past few years?”
“Why me, Kunlun?”
“Hasn’t it been just us here? Of course, we’ll go together—you and I, together.”
“Is it because it’s just been the two of us ... Because the mountain is inaccessible to outsiders, and I’m the only one with you? What if there were others here with us, would you choose to go with them instead?”
“What are you saying?”
Both of Wei’s hands clutched at his black robe. “If there was someone ... Or, if I wasn’t here ... If the person wasn’t me ... I ... Maybe you would rather go with them.”
“Wei?”
“You do not have a choice Kunlun, it’s just you and me. If the circumstances were different, your choice will be different.”
“I’d still choose you.”
“How do you know? You have nothing else to compare with ... nobody to compare with...”
At this moment, the desire to hold Wei’s face were the strongest he’d ever felt before. Unlike the times when he wanted to touch Wei’s hands when they were walking, or Wei’s neck as he bent down to smell the flowers, this time Kunlun felt that if he did not hold this man before his eyes and soul, Wei would disappear. But his desire to act on this came too late, the delay caused it to appear off the mark: Wei dissipated into black petals that flew away on the back of the wind before Kunlun could touch him.
“Wei?” he called as the tip of his last finger touched the last petal that was blown away.
A man in green, sitting alone on his stone bed.
The silence was void, with only one presence to fill it.
Kunlun’s hands fell to his sides, not knowing what to do, of what had happened.
He sat there for a long time, listless like the sky that appeared to be devoid of stars.
He laid down and looked into the blackness that reminded him of Wei, the only person he knew, and he shut his eyes tightly. Like that one night long ago in the past, he didn’t sleep. Unlike that night, this wasn’t by choice.
The morning sun rose gradually, warming his still body. By the time he opened his eyes, the sun was at its zenith, high and bright. The rays were harsh and strong, yet Kunlun kept his eyes open.
By evening, Kunlun got up and took a walk following his morning route, and later went about his other routine of the day. That night, sleep only came after lying down for a long time.
The next day, he went halfway down the mountain to the dead cedar tree used by him to make Kunlun’s teacup. Kunlun slept there for the night.
The next day, he went down to the fields to visit his tree that was now tall, with branches that stretched wide with leaves, which Kunlun and he liked to sit under for shade while they chatted about random things. He slept beside the black flowers which he seemed to like.
When the sun rose, he went back up to his spot, their spot, where they liked to linger and did their own thing. Kunlun held up and looked at the wood that was partially carved, partially finished, not at a stage where its final intended design by its carver could be discerned. He placed it down and went to his sleeping place; the sun was setting.
Instead of laying down, Kunlun sat cross-legged, hands in his lap. He spoke, “Wei, I know you’re here.”
There was no reply.
“I know you’ve been with me these last few days as well.”
There was a tranquil light wind tonight.
“It is fine if you do not want to appear; I know you will listen to what I have to say,” Kunlun closed his eyes and breathed in, opening them again. “I have been thinking,” he looked towards his space, “and I think I know who you are, or what you are.”
Silence.
“You are ... something from here—this mountain; now someone. In these three years, I’ve had some conjectures but nothing I was sure of till the day you became invisible. When I saw the petals, the beautiful petals, I knew who you were. I don’t know how you materialised, but your origin lies with the black flowers you so love.” An audible blow of the wind that sounded like an intake of breath was heard.
“Whereas for me ... I don’t exactly know how I came to materialise either, but my origin lies with the mountain. I’ve known this since the first day, because I know my name is Kunlun. So perhaps I haven’t made much progress,” Kunlun chuckled. “So, will you tell me where I came from, Wei?”
Kunlun didn’t expect Wei to make an immediate appearance, and as he had foreseen, his bid to draw Wei out was met only by the coolness of the air, until the moment a dark-coloured petal fell on his hand.
A gentle swirl of the same petals began to slowly emerge, enveloping an invisible and indistinct organic shape, interweaving and finally forming Wei.
While some petals flew away like remnants, some seemingly formed Wei’s skin. His face appeared with a frown, which Kunlun wanted to wipe away right then and there, along with the sadness and pain in his countenance. But Kunlun knew his touch wouldn’t be welcomed at this moment; it wasn’t time. He only smiled.
The crease between Wei’s brows only went deeper, driving the knife at Kunlun’s heart further in. Kunlun ached, but he didn’t show it, only waiting for the man beside him to speak.
“Your...” he began after a long period, “speculations are right: I’m from the flower, while you are from the mountain,” facing Kunlun as he said this. “Kunlun, the mountain, has existed since the formation of the world. I, and the rest, were born sometime between then and now. We, the flora of the mountain, lived every day exceedingly thankful for the nourishment you provide us. It is because you live, that we live after you.
“But when a few generations have passed, after humankind had been created, you began to… change…” Wei’s eyes started to glisten more from the night light, and he looked aside. “You began to have a desire that would have gone unfulfilled for millennia should things remain the same. Your being now is the first stride you took to have that desire fulfilled, and I…”
“Your being now, is your first stride to have my desire fulfilled,” Kunlun said, looking at Wei with half-lidded eyes full of affection. Wei swung sharply to face him, eyes wide with surprise.
“So, you… knew?”
“Yes…” Kunlun reached out slowly with his fingers to brush strands of hair that were on Wei’s face behind his ear, “I knew; I had to say I didn’t, otherwise you wouldn’t appear here right now to explain things to me,” lifting an eyebrow as if that was reason enough to justify his lie.
Wei was baffled, he didn’t know what to say.
“Now it is my turn to continue with the story; I don’t want to see you cry,” he patted Wei’s head with tenderness. “I had a desire, and your current form came into being to fulfil that desire of mine.
“I wasn’t conscious of this desire in the many years I have existed, having only had an inkling of it recently, as it crystallised and became more certain these past three days, that my desire had already been fulfilled.”
“But—!”
“Shh … No buts,” he said with an index finger over his mouth. “Can’t you see, Wei, you are the answer to my wish, the perfecter of what I couldn’t achieve by myself.
“You may not know this, but I have been feeling oddly contented during the years we’ve spent together—something I did not have even a speck of when I was alone. When you left me by myself,” a sigh, “I went to the places of memories we created together; I went to our tree, I went to our field, I went to our living space—all of them opening like petals, one by one, blooming and displaying to me in a breathtaking spectacle what it was that I had sought.
“The quality in the things we touched, the spots we went to—gave me a sense of comfort and brought to my mind some memories from when I was still a mountain, young and green. Amid what I recalled, there was a familiar presence, an entity that was one with me—a small flower in the middle of the field, whose petals seem to shimmer in the sunlight and glow in the moonlight. I could feel immense love for the mountain from that little thing.”
“Stop,” Wei said tersely, raising his voice slightly. “It isn’t as beautiful and benevolent as you think.” Kunlun paused and listened. “You were alone and felt lonely, you wanted what the humans had, and I wanted to be the first to satisfy that longing, to be the only one you need. How could that ever be a beautiful thing? How could you look at me this way when I am this—”
Wei was cut-off by an embrace; Kunlun’s arms encircled and held him.
“There is nothing wrong with wanting, Wei.
“As how I wasn’t wrong in having that desire, you weren’t wrong in wanting to be with me. And in fulfilling your wish, you fulfilled mine as well,” Kunlun’s hand caressed Wei’s head and neck, and over Wei’s hair, in repeating lulling motions. “And if what you said the other day is still on your mind, let me say this,” Kunlun said softly beside Wei’s ear, “I’d still choose you, no matter the circumstance. You may say that I won’t know for sure because I have no other comparisons, that I’ve only known this mountain—and you—this whole time, which is true. If it was someone else and not you who met me that day, I may have chosen that person, which could be true. But isn’t what we have together now that’s important? Isn’t what my heart wants that’s important, and that my heart wants you?
“Also, let me tell you that even if someone else came up here first, and you came later on, the person I choose will be you; however many other humans and creatures, you will still be the one; this I can say with certainty.” The top of Kunlun’s robe was moistening, muffled sobs were heard. “I will give you this promise: that from now on, I only want you; you can have my life and what I have till the end of me, whenever that may be, or not.”
Wei’s arms hugged Kunlun’s neck, the sobs becoming louder. Kunlun could only smile fondly and remain still where he was, stroking Wei’s back. His hope of Wei not shedding a tear did not come true after all.
The night went on in this manner. Gradually, both men fell asleep laying down on the stone, in the embrace of the other.
The day broke, colours of blue and red spilling into the sky in slow-motion.
Kunlun woke up to the man in black robes clinging tightly at his chest.
Wei woke up to the man in green, smiling brighter than the sun today, and the suns he had savoured in the past.
The two men lazed languidly till noon when they went to their spot.
*
A slice of wood fell onto the ground—Wei was carving again. His eyes focused intently on the work of his hands, as if holding a most precious gem. Kunlun was behind him, observing his own precious gem, and had been wanting to ask about the woodwork for a while now.
“Wei, what are you making?”
“A teacup for you,” he said.
“For me? But don’t I already have one?”
“It had fallen down the other day and is chipped near the rim—it’s inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate? It’s still useable! But you—you don’t have one; make one for yourself!” Kunlun stood up, prepared to fight for a cause.
“I … I don’t need one,” Wei looked down.
“Why?” Kunlun said confused.
“I’m … not worth it.”
Kunlun was rendered speechless, and they both remained in silence for a moment, before Kunlun gently cupped Wei’s chin and kissed him on the cheek. “You are worth it,” Kunlun said with a smile.
The scene before Kunlun was oddly amusing: this man who has been fair since the time Kunlun had known him, began to bloom in red, starting from his neck, to his ears and cheeks.
The soon-to-be wooden teacup fell onto the floor and its carver stood up abruptly, back straight like a tree.
“Wei?” Kunlun called out, concerned and mildly entertained.
Wei dashed towards a part of the mountain that couldn’t be seen from this end, only returning late in the night when it was long passed their usual sleeping hour, to Kunlun who welcomed him back.
They spend their days together peacefully on Mount Kunlun; the flower, that was one with the mountain, having his wish granted to be with the most important being in his life; the mountain, who had found the meaning of his form and the answer to his longing—a place his heart belonged, somewhere he could call ‘home’.