Chapter 29: Playing the Victim
For Yu Liao, the most difficult decision was whether to reveal the darkness hidden beneath his ordinary exterior to the person he cherished.
He didn’t consider himself dangerous, someone to be feared. He had encountered rambling lunatics on the street, trying to preach to him. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, not handsome, but presentable, he thought, I’m not like them.
I’m ordinary, he told himself. I’m normal, living a normal life. Everything will be alright.
Repeating a lie often enough could have a brainwashing effect, making the liar forget it was a fabrication.
Yu Liao repeated it so persistently that he even started to believe there was nothing strange about a frozen head in his freezer.
Humans were omnivores. Through millennia of evolution, they had used technology and intelligence to create a rapidly advancing civilization.
But no matter how advanced technology became, humans were still, at their core, capable of savagery. Cooking simply added a veneer of refinement.
Since people froze leftover meat for storage, why couldn’t he freeze a head?
It was just flesh.
But he hadn’t frozen it to eat it. It was more like a trophy, a symbol of his revenge, his reclaimed dignity.
Sometimes, he would even open the freezer and talk to the head—
His hallucinations, in a way, made even his deceased supervisor less repulsive.
The head would chat with him, complaining about the cold, asking to be moved outside.
“Xiao Yu, I’m already dead, can’t I at least enjoy some sunlight?”
Yu Liao would snort: “You want to turn my house into a rotting garbage dump? Dream on.”
He would slam the freezer door shut.
His thinking had become strangely compartmentalized. He knew a severed head would decompose and smell if not frozen, yet he saw nothing wrong with talking to it.
Ultimately, he was talking to himself, simply unwilling to admit it.
He had come to see his hallucinations not as a symptom of his illness, but as a remedy, making his life more vibrant.
Like a filter, adding color to a gray world.
He immersed himself in his own mind, oblivious to any potential dangers.
His “voices” always supported him, helping him think, guiding him through difficulties.
So, when he was taken hostage at gunpoint, he wasn’t afraid.
Any ordinary person would have panicked in such a dangerous situation, but he simply looked at his watch, calculating how late he would be.
After his supervisor’s disappearance, he had come to enjoy work—
Without the toxic presence, his colleagues were mostly pleasant, and he thrived, always cheerful. Even his colleagues noticed, asking if he had something to celebrate, and he simply replied that he had suddenly understood something, making him feel more optimistic about life.
His colleague, curious, leaned closer, expecting some profound revelation, but Yu Liao simply took out his fruit knife: “The first step in dealing with rotten fruit is to remove the spoiled parts. That’s the wisdom I’ve gained.”
His colleague scoffed, thinking he was still half-asleep. Yu Liao simply smiled without explaining.
He always carried the knife, his trusty weapon, even when taken hostage, its presence against his leg a constant reminder.
He knew he could pull out the knife and kill the gunman. He wouldn’t be harmed if shot; no one could stop him.
But he didn’t want to do that, didn’t want to complicate his life further.
So, he simply asked kindly: “Buddy, can you choose someone else as a hostage? I have to go to work.”
Not just the gunman, but even the arriving officers and the onlookers who refused to leave were shocked, as if he was the insane one.
Yu Liao didn’t understand. What was wrong with going to work? How else would he earn money, support himself?
The banyan tree by the roadside spoke to him: “Oh, you’re about to die, and you’re still worried about your perfect attendance?”
He immediately retorted: “I’m a dedicated employee, rain or shine…”
The gunman, finally losing his patience, hit him with the gun: “Be quiet!”
The hostage acting so casually was an insult.
Yu Liao wanted to defuse the situation, ignoring the floor tiles urging him to kill the gunman and become a hero.
These voices were like spectators, only he could hear them, making him feel like a chosen one.
Being sick wasn’t so bad, he thought. He had stopped taking the medication prescribed by the hospital to keep these voices company.
With the medication stopped, his hallucinations intensified, turning the tense hostage situation into an absurd comedy – the banyan tree cheering him on, passing insects complaining about noisy humans, even the gun pressed against him lamenting about the hardships of being a tool.
Yu Liao: “…”
Aren’t you literally a tool?
He just wanted to go to work peacefully.
But fate had other plans. An accidental discharge, and the bullet pierced his head.
He heard the sound of blood vessels bursting in his head as he fell to the ground.
Amidst the screams, his only thought was that his clothes were dirty again. What a hassle.
The bullet, of course, didn’t kill him. He stood up casually, startling everyone.
He was brought back to the Bureau, where he met Tang Yu’an for the first time.
Tang Yu’an’s face was unforgettable, but strangely, Yu Liao’s first impression of him was the aroma of seafood porridge.
In the kitchen, Tang Yu’an had said that not dying didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. His words, like his porridge, were warm and comforting.
Later, the aroma seemed to linger in his home, on his bed.
Whenever he smelled seafood porridge, he thought of Tang Yu’an.
A thought arose in his mind – If only I could always be with him.
This thought startled him. His illness had isolated him, building walls around him, keeping others out, unable to understand him.
He had become an outsider, creating his own little world.
The thought, like a tenacious seed, took root and sprouted, growing rapidly.
Even the voices started urging him on, some saying Tang Yu’an was cute and wouldn’t refuse his friendship, advising him to approach him, others warning him not to be fooled by his beauty, some even suggesting he make the first move before that rigid captain or that frivolous playboy snatched him away.
Tang Yu’an was surrounded by capable people, fueling his sense of urgency.
But after the attack, he didn’t dare approach him.
He had caused him harm; it was fortunate that Tang Yu’an didn’t resent him.
Tang Yu’an seemed to have a high pain tolerance. Even when injured, his face pale, his body trembling slightly, he never complained, enduring it silently.
This made it even harder for Yu Liao to bear. He would rather Tang Yu’an get angry at him, question him about the dangers he had exposed him to.
Yu Liao knew he didn’t have much time left. The life Tang Yu’an had saved wasn’t as valuable as he thought.
Torn by these conflicting emotions, he tried to withdraw, but he couldn’t resist messaging Tang Yu’an, checking on him.
His mental state was deteriorating, but he tried to hide it.
How could he have predicted that Tang Yu’an would come to him?
How could he have predicted that it was just a hallucination?
It was better to have never had it at all than to experience the joy, only to have it snatched away.
His illness worsening, blinded by happiness, he had ignored the inconsistencies, his mind needing to believe it was real, conveniently omitting the flaws.
He hadn’t noticed the abnormalities. He had even confessed everything to Tang Yu’an’s apparition, following the online advice, wanting to be a good boyfriend.
Yes, after a sleepless night, he had told the phantom Tang Yu’an about killing his supervisor.
Before confessing, he had even taken a sedative.
He spoke haltingly, avoiding Tang Yu’an’s gaze.
He laid bare his loss of control, his violence, his regret, wanting Tang Yu’an to believe he had his reasons.
He didn’t dare look up, afraid of seeing disgust or fear in his eyes.
His mind, to comfort him, created increasingly vivid and realistic hallucinations, so the “Tang Yu’an” he saw naturally responded in the way he most desired.
He heard “Tang Yu’an” say gently: “You didn’t mean for this to happen. I understand.”
He felt instantly absolved, a weight lifted from his shoulders.
His limbs felt heavy, his heart aching.
He couldn’t believe he had been so easily forgiven. He even showed “Tang Yu’an” the head in the freezer, a test, a desperate plea: Look, I’m this insane, will you still forgive me?
“Tang Yu’an,” a projection of his desires, naturally understood him best.
He heard him say: “Is this your trophy? Well-preserved.”
His last line of defense crumbled, and Yu Liao felt like his past self had been killed.
I’m the luckiest person in the world, he thought.
However, this happiness didn’t last long. A phone call, like a blow to the head, shattered his illusion.
He had promised to go to the movies together, but when he called, Tang Yu’an knew nothing about it.
His heart sank, a dull ache in his chest.
A terrifying thought arose, chilling him to the bone.
It can’t be, it can’t be fake…
But when he looked up, he saw “Tang Yu’an” suddenly appear before him.
He belatedly realized something was wrong. There were other people outside, how had Tang Yu’an entered so silently?
Like a dream.
He stared at the expressionless figure, feeling both familiar and unfamiliar.
Tang Yu’an’s voice continued from the phone, the truth undeniable.
His emotions crumbled. He mumbled a few words and hung up, unable to continue the conversation.
He looked at the lingering apparition, asking desperately: “You’re not real, are you?”
“Tang Yu’an” said, if I can bring you happiness, does it matter if I’m real or not?
He also said, you can’t have him, give up, enjoy your remaining time.
The perfect face began to distort, the gentle voice becoming shrill. Yu Liao clutched his head, crouching on the ground, screaming.
The guard rushed over, asking what was wrong. He replied numbly, it’s nothing, just a dream.
The guard responded: “It must have been a terrible nightmare.”
Otherwise, it wouldn’t have reduced a grown man to this state.
Yu Liao shook his head: “No, it was a beautiful dream.”
The guard couldn’t understand. What was there to be afraid of in a beautiful dream?
But then he thought, if he dreamed of winning the lottery, only to be woken up by his alarm clock and find it was all fake, he would be devastated too.
Yu Liao stopped talking, finding a way to dismiss the guard, then sneaking out.
He didn’t know where he was going, simply walking aimlessly, as if he could reach the end of time, a place without self-deception, only endless peace.
But his journey was interrupted by an out-of-control vehicle.
He was thrown into the air, thinking for a moment that he would die here.
How pathetic, he thought. Living a lie, deceived by a friend, then by himself.
He survived, like a cockroach.
Being hit by a car wasn’t a big deal; he would heal in minutes. But as he struggled to his feet, wiping the blood from his face, he felt a surge of inexplicable grievance.
In just a few hours, he had fallen from heaven to hell, as if anyone could trample on him.
And to make matters worse, the person who hit him got out of the car with an impassive expression, as if it had been intentional.
On impulse, his blood boiling, he called Tang Yu’an.
He wasn’t usually emotionally needy, but he wanted some comfort.
Honestly, he even felt the car accident was timely.
Tang Yu’an must be puzzled by his previous call. This incident would distract him.
And he was in such a miserable state; Tang Yu’an would surely come to see him.
Later, he discovered that playing the victim worked very well, perhaps too well.
It turned out the person who hit him was Tang Yu’an’s teammate, and Tang Yu’an, feeling somewhat responsible, catered to his every whim.
The trash can beside him commented: “He’s so nice to you, he must like you a little. You should be more confident and make a move!”
Yu Liao kicked the trash can over: “Get out of my head!”
He had had enough. His hallucinations had already tricked him once; he wouldn’t be fooled again.
But the trash can persisted: “Think about it, your supervisor will be back soon. Then you’ll be exposed as a deranged murderer. What will he think of you?”
His deepest fear exposed, Yu Liao, although outwardly calm, wavered inwardly.
The trash can continued to tempt him: “You’re going to die anyway, what’s there to be afraid of? People are different. That Xie Cun, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, the center of attention, gets everything he wants. Why him? Putting aside social status, are you any less than him?”
Yes, why him? He just wanted to live, why had his life become this?
The trash can continued to chip away at his defenses: “Look how many people are contacting Tang Yu’an. If you don’t act, are you going to let someone else have him? You have the drugs, you know what to do… Just one night, and you’ll be the only one left in his life.”
His resolve crumbling, his heart racing, Yu Liao struggled.
Without even thinking, a plan formed in his mind, as if he had been plotting this all along.
Tang Yu’an, unaware of his inner turmoil, assumed his worsening complexion was due to the accident.
Feeling sorry for him, he gently wiped the bloodstains left by the healing wounds with a handkerchief: “Does it hurt? I know painkillers don’t work on you. I don’t know how to help… Why don’t we chat? I heard distracting yourself helps.”
He was so close that Yu Liao could feel the warmth of his fingertips, soft and distinct.
Not a hallucination, but the real Tang Yu’an.
Like a fish returning to water, he could breathe again.
All his worries vanished, and he asked, could he stay with him?
He would only try this once. If Tang Yu’an refused, he would never have such thoughts again.
But Tang Yu’an agreed, even saying earnestly that he could come to him for anything.
Anything… really anything?
Since he had said so, he wouldn’t hold back.
Yu Liao brought out the drugged ice cream, acting like a gracious host who had just recovered from a disaster.
He watched Tang Yu’an eat it, just as he watched his sleeping face after the drug took effect.
No matter where the storms of fate took him, Yu Liao was no longer worried.
He was at the center now, experiencing an unprecedented peace.
The plan went smoothly. His supervisor often assigned him tasks outside his job description, inadvertently teaching him how to exploit the Bureau’s weaknesses and avoid their scrutiny.
For Tang Yu’an, he had simply fallen asleep and woken up in a different place, but Yu Liao had stayed awake all night.
His modified vehicle sped down a hidden road, further and further away from civilization, only the nocturnal vegetation keeping him company.
For once, the voices didn’t bother him, only offering occasional, irrelevant comments.
He drove in almost complete silence, glancing back to see the city shrinking behind him, a small dot in the distance.
That place, filled with malice, hardship, and struggle, became so small that it seemed the night sky could swallow it whole.
The ease of his escape made his previous fears seem insignificant.
Tang Yu’an slept beside him, covered with a blanket. Yu Liao’s enhanced hearing allowed him to clearly hear his breathing.
He wanted to keep driving, never stopping, until the end of the world.
He would take Tang Yu’an to his personal paradise, his secret base, hidden and safe, a place no ordinary person could find.
He wasn’t worried about being disturbed.
Skipping the unnecessary steps, jumping straight to cohabitation, he didn’t see any problem with it.
The voices warned him that Tang Yu’an might try to escape, or accuse him of kidnapping.
But he knew Tang Yu’an wouldn’t.
He knew Tang Yu’an was quiet, never losing his temper, even other people’s anger seeming to dissipate around him.
He shared his thoughts with the voices. The fire extinguisher behind him said cheerfully: “Is it possible that Tang Yu’an is my long-lost brother?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Yu Liao retorted. “He’s not someone you can compare yourself to.”
The fire extinguisher scoffed, claiming humans could never understand its greatness.
Yu Liao, in a good mood, didn’t argue, humming a lullaby as he skillfully navigated to his destination.
Tang Yu’an was light. The car was warm, and he was warm in his sleep, his body heat radiating against Yu Liao as he carried him.
Although he knew Tang Yu’an wasn’t wearing perfume, he could smell a faint fragrance, difficult to describe, not floral or fruity, more like a gentle, warm breeze.
He supported his back and knees, the limp form nestled against him, the fragrance filling his senses, clinging to his clothes, his skin, seeping into his flesh, like Tang Yu’an himself, addictive.
He slowly entered the cabin, reluctant to put him down.
He tucked him in, gently stroking his soft hair.
Then, Tang Yu’an responded, clutching his sleeve.
Only then did he realize how much Tang Yu’an feared the dark.
It’s okay, he thought silently. I won’t leave you.
He didn’t sleep that night.
Tang Yu’an, unaware that someone had stood guard by his bed all night, slept soundly for two nights, comforted by the night light.
Yu Liao was a gracious host, creating a warm and safe environment, making Tang Yu’an almost forget he had been kidnapped.
But the third night was different.
Tang Yu’an opened his eyes, wondering why he had woken up.
Had he heard something?
He listened for a few seconds, dismissing it as his imagination.
He turned over, trying to go back to sleep. His dreams were chaotic, even characters from the movie appearing in them.
Just as he was drifting off, a crash echoed from the next room, startlingly loud in the quiet night.
It came from Yu Liao’s room.
He was about to get up and check when he noticed the night light.
The cloud-shaped lamp on his bedside table was vibrating, its plastic casing rattling.
Then it suddenly shattered, plunging the room into darkness.
