Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 28

As soon as Wei Huan finished speaking, a blade of wind flashed out from behind him, circling swiftly around to Yang Sheng and slicing cleanly through the ropes binding his wrists.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Only Yun Yongzhou remained expressionless, flying upward, silently preparing to leave.

It was nothing but a clever trick.

This guy is only good at little tricks.

Even though that’s what he thought, seeing Wei Huan laughing boldly in the crowd, carefree and wild in his youth, Yun Yongzhou couldn’t help but feel a strange, unfamiliar emotion rising in his chest.

Something that didn’t belong to him.

Something foreign.

“You still have one bullet left. Not going to shoot it?” Yang Sheng handed the butterfly girls the flags they had hit, then turned to ask Wei Huan.

Wei Huan was busy bowing and thanking the crowd, as smug as ever. “Oh, right.” He spun the air gun around his index finger a few times, then gripped it again. Aiming it at the sky, he said, “Ah well, already hit the Fuyao flag. This last one doesn’t really matter.”

With a loud bang, Wei Huan, who had only meant to fire into the sky, hit the large cardboard box Yun Yongzhou was holding—with an extremely low probability.

Truly a case of “getting shot even while flying”…

“Eh?” Wei Huan looked up blankly.

The box in Yun Yongzhou’s arms was knocked down. He reacted quickly, lowering himself as the incident happened, reaching out to catch the falling box. Wei Huan, who had accidentally caused it, also tried to help, flying upward to reach it. Just as both of their fingers were about to touch the box—another bang, and the box burst open from the middle.

In an instant, countless red paper cranes flew out, fluttering their thin wings and scattering into the darkness.

Wei Huan was momentarily dazed. His vision was blocked by the sky full of paper cranes—he couldn’t see or hear anything. The only thing he could feel was his outstretched fingertip brushing against something—

A cool, other hand.

Light suddenly burst forth, tearing through the night sky, forming a glowing net that tried its best to trap the fleeing paper cranes. But the cranes, which clearly had a will of their own, grouped together and tried to escape first—smashing directly into Wei Huan, who hadn’t yet grasped what was going on.

“D*mn—!” Wei Huan staggered from the impact, the paper cranes plastering his face and blinding him. When he turned his head, he found himself thoroughly trapped in Yun Yongzhou’s light net. “What the h*ll?!”

Yun Yongzhou watched the escaping paper cranes, jaw clenched. He glanced at Wei Huan tangled in his net, so furious he couldn’t even speak.

Serves me right for being nosy.

With a wave of his hand, the light net vanished, leaving Wei Huan still flailing.

“Hmm? Gone already?” Wei Huan looked up and saw Yun Yongzhou preparing to leave. “Hey! You wrap me up and then just run off—what kind of move is that?” He flew up to confront him, only to be stopped by two butterfly spirits.

“Wait, your grand prize!”

Yun Yongzhou froze, not answering—he looked like he was angry and ignoring them, but in reality, he was just waiting to see what kind of prize all that fuss had earned them.

“This is it~” One of the butterfly spirits opened her hand, and a tiny firefly glowing green flew out and landed right on Wei Huan’s forehead. “Special summer edition—Firefly Garden doubles night tour ticket!”

Wei Huan looked disbelieving. “That’s your grand prize?! Are you kidding me?!” He nearly rolled his eyes. “A firefly counts as a grand prize? Can’t you at least pretend to have standards? Are you trying to embarrass our Fuyao Academy?”

Fuming, he waved a hand. “Forget it, I don’t want it. It’s nighttime—who am I supposed to go on a ‘doubles tour’ with anyway?!”

“Ah ah ah—no can do!” The other butterfly spirit also raised her hand, and out flew a second little firefly. The bug flapped its wings and circled around the crowd, finally landing on the back of Yun Yongzhou’s neck—just as he was about to leave.

“Ta-da! Our second lucky winner has arrived!” The butterfly flew over and blocked Yun Yongzhou’s path, then pushed him toward Wei Huan, loudly declaring, “Congratulations to you both for winning the Firefly Garden Doubles Night Tour grand prize!”

Yang Sheng stood to the side, utterly dumbfounded. “Wait, wasn’t I the one playing the game with him? Shouldn’t I be the one on this tour?”

Before he could finish, something wrapped around his leg.

“Big Brother!”

Little Yang Ling, only eight years old and wearing twin braids, hugged his leg and looked up with a sweet voice. “Brother, play with me~”

Yang Sheng was still stunned—how did this little one get here?

He looked up and saw their mom flying over not far away, smiling helplessly. “Little Ling insisted on coming. I couldn’t stop her.”

“Brother~ Little Ling wants to visit the night market~”

Watching his best friend being forcibly dragged off by a little kid, Wei Huan shouted after him but couldn’t get him back. Turning around, he saw the two butterfly spirits high-fiving each other with a mission accomplished expression.

Something definitely felt off.

Before he could fully process it, another seven or eight butterfly spirits popped out of nowhere, forcefully pushing Wei Huan and Yun Yongzhou together and hustling them off toward the Firefly Garden.

“Hey, where are the fireflies?”

“No idea. Last I saw, they were with Little Ya.”

Wei Huan looked back at the whispering butterfly spirits. “What are you talking about?”

They all shook their heads in sync. “Nothing~ Nothing at all. Let’s go, let’s go.”

The so-called Firefly Garden was actually a small abandoned botanical garden between Jiahui Academy and Fuyao Academy. Jiahui had been trying to demolish it to build a new research building, but due to student opposition, the plan was put on hold and the garden left untouched.

“What are those little butterflies scheming, dragging me out here?” The place had grown wild from neglect, practically like a jungle—hard to walk through and pitch-black. Wei Huan pushed through thick vines, struggling to clear a path step by step.

Yun Yongzhou walked silently behind him, keeping a half-meter’s distance.

He hadn’t needed to come.

If he’d firmly refused, no one would’ve dared drag him here. Yun Yongzhou couldn’t figure out what had gotten into him.

The feeling was strange—like whenever he encountered this person, everything would be thrown into chaos, messy and illogical, just like this overgrown, tangled jungle they were in now.

“There’s not a single firefly here. Not even a mosquito.” Wei Huan conjured a wind blade, about to slice the vines—but hesitated for a second, then dismissed it. He rolled up his sleeves and muttered, “I will see fireflies tonight. If I don’t, I’m not being the Nine Phoenix!”

Pfft.

Yun Yongzhou’s lips involuntarily curled.

The next moment, he suddenly froze.

Why was he smiling?

His mind began to blur, like a light halo spreading outward. Yun Yongzhou felt a heavy fog settle over his brain. His fingers curled into fists, as if trying to grasp his own unsteady pulse.

“Fireflies… fireflies…”

Wei Huan muttered to himself as he pushed aside the vines to move forward. Truthfully, he was pretty nervous. Yun Yongzhou’s footsteps were always light—Wei Huan had known that from the very first time they fought—so he couldn’t tell at all whether someone was still behind him by the sound of footsteps.

He thought back to everything that had just happened and felt both exasperated and amused—along with a strange feeling he couldn’t quite describe.

Among the butterfly spirits who had followed them later, one of them had seemed especially familiar.

That’s right!

Thinking back, Wei Huan suddenly remembered. Earlier in the day at the café, they had run into this same little butterfly. She’d ordered a cup of coffee and sat there the entire afternoon, doing nothing except pointing a camera at him and Yun Yongzhou, taking who knows how many pictures.

Seriously, why did they have to pair the two of them together? What was so fun about that?

What on earth were these little girls thinking about all day…

Whatever it was, this was definitely one of their ridiculous schemes. Now that he understood, Wei Huan felt a bit more at ease. He wanted to glance back to check if Yun Yongzhou was still there, but he was a bit too embarrassed.

Whether he was still following or not—what did it matter? Was it not possible to watch fireflies alone?

Tch.

Not making a sound either—might as well not be there at all.

As he pushed aside another thick curtain of vines, still mentally criticizing Yun Yongzhou, Wei Huan suddenly lost his footing and fell!

Yun Yongzhou, who had also been lost in thought, saw the figure half a meter in front of him abruptly vanish downward. His heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively reached out, only managing to grab Wei Huan’s arm—then got pulled down with him.

Wei Huan’s mind went blank. In a daze, he felt an arm wrap around him, the two of them pressed so closely together they were practically one body, tumbling and sliding rapidly down a steep, grassy slope.

Clearly both of them could fly—yet in that moment, they forgot to open their wings.

Suddenly, the darkness around them was lit up by a golden light.

The light transformed into soft, flowing ribbons that cushioned Wei Huan’s fall. As they rolled, the light curled up and around them, wrapping them in a vortex woven of golden silk.

The soft glow reflected on Yun Yongzhou’s face—his nose bridge, the corners of his eyes, the furrow between his brows—each feature dyed with gentle light.

Their tumbling hearts finally stilled along with their bodies. The chirring of summer cicadas quieted everything.

It was… beautiful.

Yun Yongzhou laid on top, his left arm around Wei Huan, right hand braced on the grass to hold himself up and create a small bit of space between them. Wei Huan realized he was subconsciously holding his breath—which was stupid. He wanted to push Yun Yongzhou away, but before he could, Yun Yongzhou had already gotten up and withdrawn the golden silk.

Everything plunged into darkness again.

The endless chorus of insects made the summer night feel even quieter.

Yun Yongzhou patted the dirt off his clothes, tugged at them a bit, and said nothing.

They had landed in a sunken flower field, full of unfamiliar blue blossoms. He stared at them for a long time, unable to name them, and couldn’t smell any distinct fragrance.

Wei Huan sat up too, feeling intensely awkward. He wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come out. He looked up at the sky—he couldn’t even see a single star.

Compared to the bustling Shanhai Festival, this abandoned “Firefly Garden” was way too quiet. The silence made him feel lost and uneasy.

“There aren’t even any fireflies,” Wei Huan muttered, anxiety reaching its peak. He stood up, patted the dirt off himself, and was about to spread his wings to leave. But just then, Yun Yongzhou suddenly crouched down and gently touched one of the small flowers blooming in the grass.

Wei Huan had thought he was going to pick it, but saw that Yun Yongzhou only brushed it with his fingers.

“You’ve never seen it before?” Wei Huan walked over and crouched beside him. “Figures, a rich young master like you wouldn’t know about wildflowers like this.” He added the jab, then coughed and began to explain properly. “This is called forget-me-not.”

Yun Yongzhou looked up at him, clearly puzzled.

“It’s a nice name, right?” Wei Huan sat with one leg bent, resting beside him. “I picked this flower when I was little. My mom told me the story behind it.”

“Long, long ago, there was a human knight—kinda like our soldiers, I guess? He was walking with his lover when they saw this flower. His lover really wanted one, so the knight went to pick it. But the guy had bad luck and accidentally fell into a swamp.”

“Just before he sank completely, he used all his strength to toss the flower to his lover,” Wei Huan said animatedly. “Before he disappeared, he shouted, ‘Please don’t forget me!’ Then he vanished into the swamp.”

The story was a little sad, so to lighten the mood, Wei Huan changed his tone. “Anyway, because of that guy’s last words, people ended up calling this flower forget-me-not.”

Having finished his story, Wei Huan suddenly turned and smiled. “Isn’t it dumb? I used to feel sad hearing it as a kid. Now that I think about it, maybe my mom just made it up.”

He’d thought Yun Yongzhou wouldn’t respond—but unexpectedly, he spoke, his voice cool and clear like a summer night breeze.

“What if it’s true?”

Wei Huan blinked.

What if it’s true…

He turned back and, resting his chin on his palm, stared at the little flower. He murmured, “Then… maybe his lover never forgot him, for the rest of their life.”

The night fell into silence.

The story had been told, the flower explained, and the fireflies were clearly fake.

Feeling that things had fizzled out, Wei Huan stood up, stretched a little, then turned. “We’ve messed around for so long and didn’t even see a single firefly—what a waste of time. Those little liars… just wait till I get back, I’ll teach them a lesson.” He opened his wings. “I’m out.”

Just as the curtain was about to fall on this little solo summer-night drama—

Suddenly, countless faint points of firelight flickered into existence around him.

No, they weren’t green-glowing fireflies. They were golden lights. They floated in the night air, each surrounded by a soft, pale halo, almost like they were truly alive.

Wei Huan looked up. In front of him, all around him, above his head—everywhere.

They were everywhere.

He turned around. Yun Yongzhou was still standing where he was, his long fingers just pulling back from the petals of the forget-me-nots.

But his fireflies had already filled the entire empty, uninhabited valley of forget-me-nots—tiny, floating lights like stars, glowing with a dreamlike beauty.

Staring at the scene before him, Wei Huan was momentarily dazed. “You…”

Why would you do something like this?

Just as he hesitated and swallowed back the question, he heard Yun Yongzhou speak. His voice was low, different from usual, and even carried a bit of awkwardness as if he wanted to say more but held back.

“I just… wanted to see fireflies, that’s all.”