Chapter 13: Do You Hate Me?

Song Cheng’an liked to take it slow, perhaps afraid that Lin Jianxi’s body couldn’t handle more. Every movement was gentle, and whether it was kindness or not, it was driving Lin Jianxi mad. One arm draped over his eyes, tears born of pure physiology trickled from the corners. The pendant caught between his snow-white teeth held his mouth at the perfect angle, every faint curl of his tongue tip laid bare for Song Cheng’an’s gaze.

Song Cheng’an nudged the arm aside with gentle fingers. Lin Jianxi caught his wrist in the motion, his own hand soft and powerless, slick with a thin sheen of sweat in the palm. The grip had no strength to it at all—more maddening than any deliberate tease.

“Song Cheng’an… it hurts… rest a bit. Just rest… be good…”

Sensing Song Cheng’an start to pull away, Lin Jianxi clutched with both hands. His raised arms trembled violently. He heard a faint sigh, then felt the mattress shift as Song Cheng’an rolled over to lie beside him. Terrified the man might start up again, Lin Jianxi clung fast to that arm, pressing his forehead against it through the veil of his hair.

Lin Jianxi never once looked at Song Cheng’an.

He had no idea what expression to wear, so he buried his head like an ostrich, dodging every glance. Even when forced to crack his eyes open, he fixed them on the chin or the Adam’s apple—never the eyes.

Escaping, he hid his face behind Song Cheng’an’s arm—the very one scarred from self-harm. Lin Jianxi felt the rough texture of the skin, squeezed his eyes shut, and tears spilled silently across his cheeks to soak the bedsheet.

They fell without a sound. A soft click of a lighter echoed in his ears. Lin Jianxi could picture it perfectly: Song Cheng’an half-propped against the headboard, cigarette dangling from his lips, flicking the flame to life with one hand.

The man’s lower half stayed under the covers, his torso bare. The captured hand idly stroked Lin Jianxi’s bangs with its thumb.

“Lin Jianxi.”

He curled in on himself at the sound.

Song Cheng’an exhaled a graceful plume of smoke. “Do you know who I am?”

“…Song Cheng’an.” The name slipped out on reflex. He’d answer anything Song Cheng’an asked right now.

“Good.” An odd chuckle escaped Song Cheng’an as he slipped his hand free. The mattress dipped; he sat up, looming over Lin Jianxi. “If you need the bathroom, tell me. Don’t go alone. You’re too weak right now—don’t fall and hurt yourself.”

Lin Jianxi drifted off almost immediately. Soon enough, ache bloomed across half his body. He tried to roll over, but the effort unleashed a sudden bladder pressure. He let out a small whine.

In his exhaustion, he’d forgotten the urge before sleep.

He dragged himself from the bed and scanned the room—no clothes in sight. Staggering to the wardrobe, he snatched a shirt at random and shrugged it on.

Lin Jianxi stared vacantly at one dim corner. He lost track of time before finally shoving the door open. His hand hesitated mid-lift.

Sometime while he slept, the crystal pendant necklace had been clasped around his wrist.

The silver chain coiled several times around his slender bones, the pendant swaying lazily in the air… The ache of it trapped between his teeth lingered. It pulled him right back—saliva he couldn’t control, moans he couldn’t stifle—

Lin Jianxi jerked his hand away.

Forget it.

Forget forget forget forget forget—

“Ah!”

The door flew open, slamming into his foot. A sharp yelp escaped him.

Song Cheng’an froze mid-push. Shorter by a good margin, Lin Jianxi’s line of sight hit only that familiar neck. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. The throb in his foot was nothing compared to the mortifying awkwardness of facing the man’s body.

“You okay?” Song Cheng’an crouched, inspecting the reddened toes, then tilted his head up. “Sit on the bed. I’ll get some medicine on that.”

“…I need the bathroom.” Lin Jianxi’s gaze skittered away, heat flooding his skin.

Song Cheng’an grinned. “You look so damn cute when you blush.”

“…”

…

~~~

Lin Jianxi never wanted to remember what happened in the bathroom. Not for the rest of his life.

Taking a piss hurt worse than sex.

He itched to demand where Song Cheng’an learned these tricks—porn? Lin Jianxi had seen his share, but nothing like this… Had he just not watched enough?

In his haze, Song Cheng’an nipped his earlobe. “What’s your biggest regret?”

Lin Jianxi gnawed Song Cheng’an’s thumb, staring at the mingled fluids in the toilet bowl, words slurred around it. “Giving you that smartphone.”

“…”

Song Cheng’an cracked up. Lin Jianxi’s mind was mush; he couldn’t string two thoughts together. Limp as a rag, he twisted around and plastered himself to Song Cheng’an’s body.

Song Cheng’an hummed. “Hm? What is it?”

“Song Cheng’an, keep this up and I’ll break for real.”

“Hurts?”

Another touch, and Lin Jianxi’s nails dug in. “Hurts. Stop…”

Song Cheng’an pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Lin Jianxi, your body’s gorgeous.”

“…”

Lin Jianxi went still and silent.

Song Cheng’an settled him in a chair and blow-dried his hair. In the mirror, Lin Jianxi caught his own eyes flickering in and out of view—sharp, predatory shape lost in a delirious fog of exhaustion, teetering on sleep. He froze. He rarely checked mirrors; memory said this was a first.

He looked so fragile.

Song Cheng’an saw it too. He doted on Lin Jianxi like a pampered housecat, clearly relishing it, his mood brighter every day.

Lin Jianxi recalled the joke he’d shared with Shen Ze about turning into Song Cheng’an’s pet… Well, here he was.

Some days, the mirror showed him dressed to perfection, pretty as a picture, and he could only sigh in resignation.

Song Cheng’an stocked the wardrobe with beautiful clothes, hired a nutritionist, carved out hours to hand-feed him meals—chin propped on one hand, watching every chew. He’d squat by the bed to trim Lin Jianxi’s nails, fingers lingering on the tips before dipping in for a kiss.

“I’ve taken care of everything outside,” Song Cheng’an said, his smile pure and boyish, just like when they were kids. “Lin Jianxi, tell me what you like. Anything.”

Winter crept closer. Lin Jianxi was bundled in white, the garment’s fur plush and soft. The System tumbled across it in sleepy bliss. He stroked its head, pondering forever, but nothing came to mind.

By now, all he wanted was a tidy plot, an ending that didn’t end in mutual ruin.

The room was filled everywhere with their mingled scents. Lin Jianxi still couldn’t fully accept the situation. He could no longer speak to Song Cheng’an in that joking way he once had. More often than not, when he saw the gash on the other’s arm split open, he would simply fetch some medicine and bandages, treat the wound in silence, and then find himself pulled into Song Cheng’an’s arms.

Their scents had nearly fused into one.

He and Gu Heng had never been this close.

He often caught whiffs of Song Cheng’an’s fragrance on his own skin. After particularly rough sessions, the musky scent of semen clung to both of them. Lin Jianxi didn’t dare face the housekeeper without a shower, terrified she’d smell it and peg them as perverts.

Twisted.

Both their circumstances and the intangible emotions binding them.

Song Cheng’an knew Lin Jianxi was unwilling, so he lived in constant fear of angering him. Yet he could never quite hold himself back, leaving him anxious and sleepless deep into the night.

One night, Lin Jianxi noticed Song Cheng’an hadn’t drifted off. “What’s wrong? You feeling unwell?”

Song Cheng’an put on his most pitiful expression. “I keep hearing cries in here. And I see a man in black clothes, standing right next to me with an axe.”

He lowered his lashes and pressed Song Cheng’an’s head against his chest. “Hide here, and you won’t see him anymore, okay?”

Lin Jianxi gently patted Song Cheng’an’s back.

The unexpected comfort made Song Cheng’an go rigid for an instant. He cracked his eyes open in the embrace and peered up at Lin Jianxi.

Lin Jianxi’s hand paused on his back. He gave a small smile, then—for the thousandth time—shifted his gaze aside.

Outside the window, dawn was breaking. Lin Jianxi’s hair ends gleamed as if edged with golden morning light. His lowered lashes and the occasional bob of his Adam’s apple set Song Cheng’an’s heart aflame even as his breaths came harsh and bitter.

“…Lin Jianxi,” Song Cheng’an whispered. “Don’t you hate me?”

“Then do you hate me?” Lin Jianxi’s fingertip traced the scars riddling Song Cheng’an’s hand. Softly, he said, “…I’ve hurt you, Song Cheng’an.”

Song Cheng’an’s expression darkened, some ugly memory surfacing. He stared at Lin Jianxi, lips quivering as he tried to muster that sweet, charming smile. He couldn’t quite manage it. At last, he said:

“—You had no choice, right? You were forced into it. It’s forgivable. Lin Jianxi, you’re such a good person—you must’ve been forced. So I don’t hate you.”

“…”

Silence.

In those few seconds, Song Cheng’an understood.

Lin Jianxi gazed at the sun rising outside. “Dawn’s here. You’ve got work. Get some sleep.”

“…Mm. It’s fine.” Song Cheng’an managed a relieved smile. “I’ve long since forgotten. Lin Jianxi, look at me.”

He could sense how desperately Song Cheng’an clung to him, gripping his sole emotional lifeline. The man’s psyche was like a ragged, hole-ridden cloth, emotions seeping out no matter how he tried to contain them.

Lin Jianxi’s fingertip rubbed idly.

“It’s okay, Lin Jianxi. Just look at me once. Just once. I don’t care what you do to me—just look at me.”

“…”

“I’ve ruined everything. Now you won’t even look at me.” Song Cheng’an’s voice turned aggrieved.

“…Don’t say that.”

…

Lin Jianxi finally turned his head. He didn’t meet Song Cheng’an’s eyes right away, but lifted his gaze slowly—

Their eyes locked, and his heartbeat stuttered to a halt. He knew these eyes so well he could sketch them from memory in his dreams. It was still that Song Cheng’an, the one who loved to play the spoiled child. Unbidden, memories flooded in: himself naked beneath this man, crying out, every plea and surge of desire laid bare, every humiliating moment captured in these eyes.

“Don’t hide,” Song Cheng’an said with a smile. “Your eyes are so beautiful.”

Lin Jianxi’s hands began to shake. His heart twisted in sour agony.

He couldn’t bear to hold Song Cheng’an’s gaze any longer. He didn’t want to see him hurt.

Reaching out, he covered Song Cheng’an’s eyes. Those lashes fluttered delicately against his palm. Lin Jianxi struggled to steady his racing heart—to no avail.

“…”

Eyes still covered, Song Cheng’an leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s fine, Lin Jianxi. We’ve got all the time in the world. From tomorrow on, every morning when we wake up, we can stare into each other’s eyes for a bit, yeah?”

Lin Jianxi’s hand trembled harder. Then his whole body was shaking—he found himself pinned to the sofa, toyed with gently.

He twisted his head aside. His overly long hair veiled half his face, leaving only the barest hint of his bitten lip and the tip of his nose visible.

His chin was turned back. Blankly, Lin Jianxi stared into Song Cheng’an’s eyes. He yearned to lose himself, but the sofa’s subtle rocking kept dragging him back to awareness, drawing muffled groans from him in shifting tones.

Song Cheng’an kissed him earnestly, fingers stroking his hair with the lightest touch, as if he might shatter. “Want to kiss… or bite the pendant?”

Lin Jianxi mumbled, dazed. “I won’t bite myself anymore.”

“You’re lying. But even when you lie, you look beautiful, Lin Jianxi. I love everything you do. So do whatever you want—no holding back. Just don’t fall for anyone else.” Song Cheng’an kissed his mouth; sticky sounds of saliva filled his ear. “Which one?”

Lin Jianxi couldn’t bring himself to say he wanted the pendant—his teeth ached, and he couldn’t control his drool. So he chose the other.

In the end, though, he went for the pendant.

…He didn’t like the pendant.

Song Cheng’an caught his frown and chuckled by his ear. “If you want to kiss, just kiss me.”

Lin Jianxi couldn’t bring himself to initiate.

Song Cheng’an did, though. He kissed him, nipping the pendant between them. Their teeth clinked crisply.

The pendant dropped to his chest. Fluffy strands of hair brushed his chin. Lin Jianxi tilted his head back on instinct to evade—only for his lips to be claimed fiercely.

“Feels good?”

“…”

“We’ll keep kissing. No stopping, okay, Lin Jianxi?”

“…Mm.”

~~~

Song Cheng’an had a real knack for caretaking. Lin Jianxi now broke into cold sweats after just a few steps, though sometimes he could still venture out on his own—Song Cheng’an never restricted his comings and goings.

Song Cheng’an had given him a card, but Lin Jianxi had no idea what to do with it. His usual pleasures were street eats, smokes, booze, and cartoons. But his stomach couldn’t handle the first three anymore. Passing a bustling food stall, he’d often pause to watch, and one day while he stood there, someone called out: “Hey, we’ll treat you! Come join us!”

Lin Jianxi glanced toward that table. The young people there blushed under his gaze and stammered, “It’s nothing, haha. We just see you here every day and wanted to say hi.”

Lin Jianxi walked over and struck up a conversation with them.

He was dressed impeccably—anyone with a keen eye for fashion could spot the quality of his clothes at a glance. Once they warmed up, curiosity got the better of them. “We thought you couldn’t afford to eat out at first, but that outfit says otherwise… So what’s your story?”

Lin Jianxi gave a helpless smile. “Bad stomach. They look so tempting, and I used to love this kind of food.”

“No wonder you stare so hungrily but only take a couple bites.”

“You some kind of company boss?”

“Yeah, yeah—that vibe fits.”

“What are you… thinking about?”

Lin Jianxi sometimes enjoyed watching them chat. But as he did, his gaze would drift, eyes narrowing slightly, his fingertip tapping lightly on the table. He snapped out of it, pondered for a moment, and said, “If mental illnesses aren’t managed, do they get worse?”

“Depends on the environment. A bad one will definitely make it worse. But these kinds of conditions… they can drive you insane.”

Someone nearby chimed in. “Like turning into a total nutcase?”

“Exactly. A nutcase with no grip on reality—babbling nonsense with no logic, or hallucinating things that aren’t there and swearing they’re real. I don’t know if every mental illness ends that way, but the colleagues and neighbors I’ve seen? Pretty much. Intervene early if you can. Once it hits that point, the family falls apart, and so does the patient.”

When he got home, Song Cheng’an pulled him into a hug. “Street food again?”

“Just a bite.” Lin Jianxi replied distractedly.

Song Cheng’an chuckled. “I’ve got something tomorrow—won’t be around all day. Lin Jianxi, you better miss me.”

“…” Lin Jianxi came back to himself with a wry smile.

Lying in bed, he scoured the internet for hospitals, narrowing them down one by one until only two were left. He’d check them out tomorrow.

Song Cheng’an sidled closer. “You seem busy.”

Lin Jianxi set his phone face-down on the pillow. “Got lost in a novel. Bedtime—you too.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“…”

“Then I’ll kiss you.”

Song Cheng’an had a knack for talking himself into what he wanted. No answer? He’d supply one. He planted a kiss, switched off the light, and held him close. “Lin Jianxi, don’t you dare abandon me… Even if you try, I’ll chase you down. I’ll catch you for sure.”

Lin Jianxi had gone numb to these confessions from Song Cheng’an. He let them lull him to sleep amid the steady stream of I-like-yous. When he woke the next morning, Song Cheng’an was gone. Lin Jianxi called a ride and headed to the first hospital.

It was a private clinic, nicely appointed. An assistant led him to the doctor’s office. The door swung open, and he froze.

A man was leafing through a stack of forms. Hearing them enter, he stepped aside to give the doctor and patient room to talk.

—Shen Ze.

Lin Jianxi hesitated, then took a seat before the doctor. “Are you… Lin Jianxi, Mr. Lin?”

“Yes.” Lin Jianxi sensed Shen Ze’s stare and offered a faint smile. “I’m here for a consultation—”

Before he could finish, Shen Ze seized his arm. Standing as he was, Shen Ze’s eyes dipped inevitably to the open collar of Lin Jianxi’s shirt. When he spotted certain marks, Lin Jianxi felt the man’s hand tremble.

Lin Jianxi looked up steadily, smiled, and said, “Mr. Shen, long time no see.”