Chapter 12: Knocking on the Door

Lin Jianxi saw those smiling eyes and knew Song Cheng’an’s intentions weren’t simple today. He felt like he had reached the end of the road, his strength drained away. Lin Jianxi slid down to the floor, his back against the sofa, bracing himself for the humiliation this world was about to heap upon him.

“Get out. You’re never to set foot in here again.”

Song Cheng’an’s eyes were beautiful, and he loved to dress up, always decked out in accessories and carrying the scent of cologne. If you didn’t know who he was, he might have seemed pretty and cute, but everyone in the room knew exactly what kind of man Song Cheng’an was. Those accessories were as menacing as relics from the underworld—terrifying however you sliced it.

The moment Song Cheng’an’s words landed, the sharp-eyed people in the room bolted for the door. The rest shot him worried glances, but they too were soon “escorted” out.

Lin Jianxi gently closed his eyes and coughed softly. He was still steadying his breathing when his ankle was suddenly seized.

He was dragged out from the narrow space between the sofa and the coffee table. The hand clamped around his ankle bulged with veins. Lin Jianxi couldn’t bear to look, imagining that hand soon invading his body, and turned his head away.

His body floated upward—Song Cheng’an had scooped him up and deposited him on the sofa.

Lin Jianxi’s nostrils filled with the other man’s cologne. He looked up, meeting Song Cheng’an’s gaze. His own face was mirrored in those pupils, the eyes curved slightly with faint cushions beneath. Lin Jianxi said nothing, turning his head to stare silently at the television ahead.

The cartoon had ended, leaving the screen in standby mode, cycling through ad images.

Boring.

Yet Lin Jianxi kept his eyes fixed on the TV, unmoving.

Song Cheng’an leaned his head on Lin Jianxi’s shoulder. The gesture yanked Lin Jianxi back to those moments a few days earlier with the mixed-race youth. He knew what was coming, and sure enough, Song Cheng’an murmured, “You like blue eyes?”

Lin Jianxi stayed silent.

So the room had been bugged.

Song Cheng’an was almost laughable, trying to pressure him into submission through someone else but ultimately unable to follow through. Looking back on these past days, if his body had been healthy, the ordeal wouldn’t have worn him down more than a shift at work.

Song Cheng’an didn’t seem to expect an answer. Still in what passed for high spirits, he set a stack of papers and a pen on Lin Jianxi’s lap.

Divorce papers.

The ones signed by Gu Heng.

Lin Jianxi stared at the A4 sheets but didn’t so much as twitch.

Song Cheng’an asked, “Too weak?”

With that, he produced a thermos lunchbox from somewhere and laid out the dishes on the table, feeding him small bites.

Lin Jianxi didn’t fight it, accepting whatever was offered. His stomach was sensitive and required careful chewing; Song Cheng’an’s portions were tiny, and soon Lin Jianxi was nodding off.

“Full?”

“…Mm.”

Song Cheng’an uncapped the pen and pressed it into his palm.

Lin Jianxi remained still, lashes lowered, utterly silent. Moments later, drowsiness claimed him again.

Song Cheng’an brushed the stray locks from his forehead. “Pen out of ink?”

“…”

A fresh pen was swapped into his hand.

Lin Jianxi lay there like a doll, letting the man maneuver him at will, locked in a perpetual doze as if too indolent to hear another word from Song Cheng’an.

“Eyes failing you? Can’t make out the print?”

“…Song Cheng’an.” Lin Jianxi opened his eyes and met the man’s gaze. “I’m not divorcing him.”

“…”

Dead silence.

The quiet was so profound it set one’s heart quivering, but Lin Jianxi found it soothing. Beneath Song Cheng’an’s perilous stare, he tilted his head against the sofa back and feigned sleep once more.

“Lin Jianxi.” Song Cheng’an’s voice held no mirth, laced instead with emotions bottled to the brink. It was the coldest Lin Jianxi had ever heard him. “Don’t force my hand.”

Lin Jianxi kept silent.

“You can come to me anytime,” Song Cheng’an said, seemingly pulling himself together. His gaze softened, his tone less rigid. “As long as you do, I’ll keep you safe for life. His messes? I can clean them up. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Song Cheng’an gave a soft chuckle. “No divorce? Fine by me. I don’t care about that—”

“Not happening. Drop it.”

“…”

Song Cheng’an barked a hollow, self-mocking laugh and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Bang!

Lin Jianxi’s eyes were shut, but his body jolted.

He knew this was as low as Song Cheng’an would stoop.

Lin Jianxi sighed and eased himself flat onto the sofa.

The light dimmed further until it was gone. The room’s details blurred into shadow. Lin Jianxi extended a hand into the night, catching his fingertips in the scant moonlight.

The plot’s climax seemed to have peaked in that first year after he’d entered this world.

Afterward, it had faded just like this light—diminishing until nothing remained visible.

…

~~~

Song Cheng’an stopped coming for him and quit pulling strings from the shadows. This world’s malice proved far crueler than Lin Jianxi had ever imagined.

No longer surrounded by those youngsters who would spare him at a show of frailty, he was now prey to a pack of wolves who saw him as nothing more than a pretty toy for their lusts.

The System urged him, “Agree to it. These guys are too dangerous—you won’t survive until Gu Heng’s release. Song Cheng’an won’t let you die.”

Lin Jianxi gazed at the moon, his head throbbing fiercely.

The System hovered at his shoulder, hesitating before whispering, “You’ve really started seeing him as family—Hey, Lin Jianxi! Lin Jianxi, what’s wrong?!”

The System’s voice faded into unreality. Thinking himself merely exhausted, Lin Jianxi closed his eyes. When he awoke, he was in a hospital.

Everything was white, the air heavy with antiseptic. Morning light poured through the window, bathing his pallid, paper-thin arm in a glow that made it shimmer.

Lin Jianxi pried open his eyelids, which felt as heavy as lead, and looked toward the door. His mind flashed back to the last time he had been here, when Song Cheng’an had stood outside conversing with the doctors. But at this moment, there was no one beside him.

Struggling to sit up from the bed, Lin Jianxi glanced at the sticky note plastered to the cabinet nearby.

【Come to the Fifth Floor 507 Office once you’re awake.】

【Shen Ze】

~~~

At the office door, Lin Jianxi ran into the doctor who worked there. Seeing how frail he looked, as if a mere breeze might topple him, the doctor asked gently, “Sir, who are you looking for?”

Lin Jianxi said nothing, merely gazing softly into the office at Shen Ze, who sat with his chin propped in both hands, staring fixedly at the X-ray.

The doctor continued, “That’s Mr. Shen from the medical supplies company. And you are…?”

Lin Jianxi replied, “I’m an employee of his company. Is he busy?”

His voice was so faint that the doctor didn’t dare interject, simply going along with it. “Ah… no, no. He’s been staring at that X-ray all morning.”

Meanwhile, Shen Ze murmured to himself, “How can someone’s bones be this good-looking…”

The doctor: “…”

Scratching his head with an awkward chuckle, the doctor added, “He’s looking at that… Doesn’t your company have a Lin Jianxi? That’s his X-ray.”

“Lin Jianxi, huh,” Lin Jianxi said. “How’s he doing now?”

The doctor replied, “Not sure, really. Probably made enough money to jet off on vacation. You know Mr. Shen’s reputation in the industry better than I do. With Lin Jianxi at his level now, he’s surely living large.”

Lin Jianxi tugged at the corner of his mouth and stepped into the office.

The doctor excused himself for prior business, leaving Shen Ze and Lin Jianxi alone. Lin Jianxi came to a halt behind Shen Ze and spoke. “Thank you.”

His tone was soft, laced with a trace of sigh.

Shen Ze stiffened. He turned slowly, meeting Lin Jianxi’s gaze, his smile less natural than usual.

Lin Jianxi arched a brow faintly. “How have things been for you lately?”

Shen Ze answered, “…Very well. But without you by my side, something always feels missing.”

Lin Jianxi smiled lightly. “Miss having me there?”

“…”

Shen Ze rubbed his face and seized Lin Jianxi’s hand. “Lin Jianxi, come abroad with me. I’ll give up everything.”

Lin Jianxi eyed Shen Ze’s hand. “In what capacity?”

After all these experiences, Lin Jianxi had come to understand the ways of people in this world. As those around him revealed their true colors one after another, disappointment settled in his heart… Even absent malice, even if they only sought to offer him a better life, the sensation of being a puppet yanked back and forth was unbearable. Refusal meant the end of friendship forever, reduced to watching them depart one by one… Lin Jianxi truly hated it.

It felt as if half his life had been lived in vain.

Shen Ze seemed unable to voice those words. Lin Jianxi sighed, slipping his hand free from the other’s grasp. “Thank you, Mr. Shen.”

“…”

“If there’s ever a chance,” Lin Jianxi said, lifting his gaze slowly to those faintly trembling pupils, “don’t bring me on as a test subject again.”

“Wish you all the best, Shen Ze.”

With that, Lin Jianxi turned and left the office. He had no idea how long Shen Ze stared at his retreating back—and he didn’t care to know.

He didn’t dare face Gu Heng, knowing full well that Gu Heng must be faring poorly. Lin Jianxi squatted by the roadside, watching the stream of people entering and exiting the middle school gates, visions of a young Song Cheng’an flickering in his mind.

A fair, delicate little face calling him “brother,” weeping over misdeeds, terrified of being ignored.

If given the chance, Song Cheng’an wouldn’t want to harbor these feelings either. No one chose such constant anxiety, forcing themselves time and again to bury memories of abuse, chiding themselves that the man was pitiable and deserving of compassion—no one yearned for the monster who had carved countless scars into their flesh.

How utterly shattering.

But love was love; it couldn’t be undone.

Lin Jianxi bowed his head.

His days in this world were numbered. Clinging on would only end in mutual ruin, which held no meaning.

Fresh from the hospital, he couldn’t walk far without pausing to catch his breath.

Lin Jianxi crossed the street at a crawl, watching the leaves drifting down around him. He stepped on them now and then, savoring the crisp crunch beneath his feet, until he reached Song Cheng’an’s home.

Cold sweat drenched his dark hair. Lin Jianxi didn’t bother wiping it away. He raised his hand and knocked.

A moment passed.

The door swung inward, revealing Song Cheng’an’s arm, crisscrossed with scars. Lin Jianxi looked up slowly, locking eyes with those bloodshot ones, and mustered his last strength to say,

“Can I stay here with you for a few days?”

Song Cheng’an froze for an instant.

Lin Jianxi’s legs buckled, nearly sending him sprawling. He staggered forward, looping his arms around Song Cheng’an’s neck. Turmoil raged within him—the bonds of family forged over years clashing wildly, as if riddling his heart with holes, blood seeping into his viscera, icy cold and feverishly hot.

This was the child he had raised.

He had watched him grow into a success, marveling inwardly countless times at Song Cheng’an’s promise.

Now, pressed against him, he felt that body heat… So this was what it was like to cling to Song Cheng’an from a position of weakness.

A familiar warmth, an alien sensation.

Bitterness flooded his heart.

Lin Jianxi shut his eyes. “You like me…”

“Song Cheng’an, sorry to put you out,” he murmured, exhausted.

~~~

“Lin Jianxi…”

“Lin Jianxi…”

Song Cheng’an was like a child reunited with his cherished toy, showering him with kisses and nips. When atop him, the pendant at his neck swayed lazily, now and then grazing Lin Jianxi’s chin.

In his delirium, Lin Jianxi felt parched. He parted his lips, tilting his neck to draw the pendant into his mouth like a dewdrop.

The instant it slipped free, he pursued it, eyes glazed, until Song Cheng’an claimed his lips in a kiss. Lin Jianxi stilled then, clarity returning a fraction as he thought to himself—so this was the taste of Song Cheng’an’s mouth.

“Thirsty?”

“Mm…”

Lin Jianxi wanted no more kisses. He turned his head aside, his lips brushing Song Cheng’an’s wrist, which was braced beside him. Lowering his forehead to that wrist, he murmured again, “Thirsty…”

“Look at me.”

Lin Jianxi tilted his head slightly, taking in Song Cheng’an’s lovely eyes and the saliva glistening on his lips—who knew whose it was.

“How long since you were with him?” Song Cheng’an’s fingertip traced his lashes. “You’re so green.”

Lin Jianxi fluttered his eyelids shut. “I want water.”

“Answer my question, okay?”

“…”

Lin Jianxi: “Thirsty.”

Song Cheng’an gazed at him, coaxing softly. “Lin Jianxi, just tell me.”

Lin Jianxi was so parched he grew annoyed. He tilted his head and bit down on Song Cheng’an’s wrist. But then he remembered that Song probably wouldn’t even feel the pain, so with no other choice, he hooked his arms around Song Cheng’an’s neck instead. He tugged him down a little, burying his face in the crook of his neck, and repeated, “Thirsty… I’m thirsty…”

Red marks bloomed on Lin Jianxi’s neck from the bullying he’d endured. He didn’t even have the energy left to curse. His thick lashes trembled as he pulled Song Cheng’an even closer. The overwhelming stimulation arched his neck back slightly.

He called out softly, “Water…”

Song Cheng’an smiled helplessly and fed him some water. Lin Jianxi licked his lips, finally feeling much better. Before long, he drifted off into sleep.

He was familiar with Song Cheng’an’s scent. In his utter exhaustion, he didn’t register his surroundings and simply burrowed into the other’s arms when he felt cold.

“Hug me,” Lin Jianxi murmured. “Kid, warm my hands. They’re so cold.”

“……………………….”

Song Cheng’an went rigid. Only after a long moment did he slowly pull him into a tight embrace.

“Sorry… I didn’t notice…” Song Cheng’an cradled his hands in his own palms. The scorching heat made Lin Jianxi squint in comfort.

Song Cheng’an promised solemnly, “It won’t happen again, Lin Jianxi. I’m very obedient.”

~~~

Lin Jianxi had lost all sense of day and night.

All he knew was that it was pitch dark here. His body was drenched in sweat that dried only to soak again. He drank water, but he’d lost the right to visit the bathroom. Every wave of stimulation left him shaking so badly he couldn’t even grip the pillow by his ear.

Song Cheng’an removed the pendant and slipped it between his teeth.

“Don’t just hold it in your mouth—I need to see it,” Song Cheng’an murmured, brushing his lips. “Otherwise, you’ll bite your lips until they bleed.”

“…Mm.”