Chapter 9: He’s Just a Madman

Lin Jianxi sensed something, but he didn’t dwell on it. Years of unwavering trust in someone wouldn’t crumble over a fleeting moment of doubt.

Even so, he had no intention of relying on Song Cheng’an from here on out.

Leaning on someone so much younger felt utterly bizarre no matter how he sliced it. And he didn’t believe anyone would support another person for life without expecting something in return—blood ties notwithstanding. Even family bonds weren’t always reliable, let alone anything else.

“I don’t need it,” Lin Jianxi said. He picked up the dandelion from the floor and blew it apart from his lips. “If I were going to die, I’d have done it ages ago. You go inside and rest for a few years. I’ll keep living just fine out here on my own. When you get out, on the day I kick the bucket from old age or sickness, you’ll have to bring me a photo.”

~~~

Lin Jianxi went to see Shen Ze and talked shop for a good long while. By the time he made it home, night had fallen.

He pushed open the door, one eyebrow arching as he bent down to change his shoes. “What are you doing here?”

Song Cheng’an and Gu Heng were sitting on the sofa, the air between them thick with unease.

Song Cheng’an was still in his long sleeves. Lin Jianxi now understood why he kept his arms covered even in summer—likely those scars. Song Cheng’an had gotten his ears pierced as a kid, and not a single hole had gone to waste; he wore small, eye-catching earrings in them.

When he saw Lin Jianxi return, Song Cheng’an offered a faint smile.

The two of them acted as if this were their first encounter in three years—no mention of the past few days.

Lin Jianxi headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Gu Heng and Song Cheng’an remained silent. He glanced at them. “I’ve never seen you two like this before. What, you strangers now?”

“…”

Gu Heng’s brow suddenly furrowed. “What happened to your hand?”

Lin Jianxi glanced at his own hand—the back was marred by a massive bruise. “Caught a cold a few days back. The shot they gave me was a rough one. It’s nothing.”

Lin Jianxi perched on the sofa’s armrest. Gu Heng pulled his hand over, stroking the bruise lightly with his fingertips, his expression full of heartache.

Bang!

The ashtray hit the floor and shattered into jagged pieces.

Song Cheng’an picked it up, slicing his finger on a shard. Blood trickled down, vanishing into his sleeve. He didn’t so much as flinch. He grabbed a few tissues, pressed them to the cut, and said, “What do you guys want to eat? I’ll order some takeout.”

Lin Jianxi said, “There’s iodine in the cabinet right under your feet. Disinfect it now—that ashtray’s filthy.”

Song Cheng’an bent down and rummaged around for ages without finding it. He looked to Lin Jianxi, his gaze pitiful, like a first-time guest at someone’s home who’d clumsily hurt himself and didn’t dare complain no matter how much it stung.

“…”

Lin Jianxi let out a soft sigh and went to help. He crouched by Song Cheng’an’s feet, found the iodine, and looked up. Their eyes met. “That hurts, doesn’t it?”

Song Cheng’an lowered his gaze. “Yeah.”

Lin Jianxi said, “Then why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

Lin Jianxi sat beside Song Cheng’an and had him rest his hand on his own leg. He disinfected the wound with intense focus—but his touch was as rough as his cooking. He had no gift for delicate work. He figured he was making it hurt worse than the cut itself and felt a twinge of embarrassment. “Want to do it yourself?”

Song Cheng’an shook his head. “Lin Jianxi, I’ll try not to hurt myself anymore.”

Lin Jianxi chuckled. “Scared off by my doctoring?”

Song Cheng’an said, “Because I don’t want to worry you.”

“…”

The words could be a confession or a jab—or both, depending on who was listening. Gu Heng’s face turned pitch-black beside them. Song Cheng’an glanced at him with a smile. “Right?”

“…” Gu Heng reached for his cigarettes, heading for the balcony.

Song Cheng’an added, “Where are you going? I didn’t come here to watch you moon over the night sky.”

Gu Heng halted by the sofa. “That’s enough.”

Song Cheng’an said, “Enough? If you can’t even stomach this much humiliation, what do you call all the crap Lin Jianxi took for you on the outside?”

Song Cheng’an tapped the table. “Want my help? Show some sincerity.”

Gu Heng sneered coldly. “What more do you want?”

Song Cheng’an said, “I want you to divorce Lin Jianxi.”

“…………”

Being forced into a divorce felt worlds apart from suggesting it yourself. The former was pure humiliation; the latter, a balm for the soul, an escape from endless guilt. Gu Heng had been considering divorce, but Song Cheng’an’s demand snuffed out the notion entirely.

Gu Heng said, “What does my divorce from him have to do with you? What do you get out of it? You think he’ll fall for you if we split?”

Song Cheng’an smiled lightly. “I’m a law-abiding citizen. Love doesn’t matter. I just want your husband—and I want it legal. Whether Lin Jianxi agrees or not? That’s got nothing to do with you. Go do your time. I’ll visit, and for old times’ sake, I’ll even sneak you some treats.”

“…”

Lin Jianxi gripped Song Cheng’an’s hand to quiet him, then turned to Gu Heng. “Didn’t I tell you not to come looking for him?”

“Go ahead and find me,” Song Cheng’an said, meeting his eyes. “I don’t want anything in return. Just come home with me.”

Lin Jianxi laughed dryly. “Where’d you pick up this lovesick act?”

Song Cheng’an said, “Seeing you makes it come naturally. Lin Jianxi, you’ve never believed me. I’ve confessed to you so many times, and you never buy it.”

“Forget it,” Lin Jianxi said. “You leave first. If you two start bickering, the only one whose ears will bleed is mine.”

Before Lin Jianxi could pull him away, Song Cheng’an called to Gu Heng, “That’s my one condition. Think it over. If you divorce, I’ll take good care of Lin Jianxi and keep him looking sharp. If not, I won’t bother feeding someone else’s spouse.”

Lin Jianxi dragged Song Cheng’an into the hallway. Song Cheng’an clasped his hand and darted in front, backing him into the corner against the wall.

“Every night, I dream of making love to you.” Song Cheng’an gritted his teeth softly. “Every night, I fall asleep to the sound of your voice.”

Lin Jianxi regarded him coolly. “Oh. You’re a real hard worker.”

Song Cheng’an laughed—it might have been amusement or anger. A flicker of warped emotion twisted in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Lin Jianxi in a crushing embrace. Lin Jianxi could barely breathe, feeling as if he were melting into Song Cheng’an’s searing blood and bone.

A long while passed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, Lin Jianxi. You know how I run my mouth—I don’t mean half of what I say. Don’t take it to heart. Have a little pity on me and don’t be mad…”

Before the words were even out, Lin Jianxi reached out and gently closed Song Cheng’an’s eyes.

“Yeah, you poor little thing,” Lin Jianxi said. “Go home and get some proper sleep. These past few days taking care of me must’ve worn you out. I know you haven’t been sleeping well, staying up late and getting up early. I know you prepared all those clothes for me, even learned how to cook. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but take care of yourself too. Keep your word—don’t hurt yourself anymore.”

“…Yeah,” Song Cheng’an murmured, the corners of his mouth curving up in the dark as he inhaled the thrilling scent filling his arms. He seemed to steel his resolve. “I’ll be good, Lin Jianxi.”

~~~

“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Lin Jianxi remarked while packing up the medicine kit. “You’re the one who told me Song Cheng’an never speaks a word of truth.”

Gu Heng said nothing, just sat there smoking.

Lin Jianxi finished tidying up and was about to head back to bed when Gu Heng suddenly spoke.

“He’s just a madman.”

Gu Heng kept his head lowered, his expression hidden from view. Lin Jianxi paused in his tracks, waiting for him to continue.

“Why didn’t he contact you for three whole years? Why show up now? Because he realized that even after all this time, with you on the brink of death, you still never went crawling back to him.”

“Those enemies of yours know all about us. Everyone knows the bond between you and Song Cheng’an. Why would they dare go this far? Who’s been letting them run wild? Think about it.”

Gu Heng rose to his feet and left the living room. Right before shutting the bedroom door, he added, “The divorce papers are in the cabinet. Sign them, Lin Jianxi. You’ve been through enough. If I get the chance, I’ll make it up to you—even if it costs me my life.”