“Do you have a choice?” Shao Jinghe pressed down on his shoulder and pulled out his arm. When he rolled up the sleeve, he froze.
The wrist was marked with shocking red welts.
Sui Yuye quickly withdrew his hand and pulled down his sleeve.
It must have been from struggling too fiercely when he was tied up yesterday. He hadn’t expected the marks to still be there.
Shao Jinghe’s gaze was deep and terrifying. Sui Yuye was still wondering what was wrong with him when his body suddenly sank—he was being hugged.
Although the cologne smelled quite nice, being this close wasn’t exactly comfortable.
Sui Yuye: “You…”
Shao Jinghe: “I’m sorry.”
Sui Yuye was stunned.
He wanted to push away a little to see Shao Jinghe’s expression, but the other held him tightly, burying his head in the crook of his shoulder. His soft black hair brushed against Sui Yuye’s jaw and neck, making it impossible to see his face.
“It wasn’t you who locked me up. Why are you apologizing?” He sighed helplessly, recalling the last incident, and added:
“As for that matter, I didn’t take it to heart anyway.”
He thought saying this would make Shao Jinghe react as usual—either with sarcasm or an awkward grunt—but he still held him tightly, refusing to let go.
“Shao Jinghe?” Sui Yuye called his name.
No response.
“Hey, Shao Jinghe.”
Sui Yuye blinked, hesitated for a moment, then gently patted his back, his voice softening:
“What’s wrong? I didn’t scold you or hit you. Why are you upset?”
Seeing that the other remained silent, Sui Yuye simply lifted his face from his shoulder.
He cupped Shao Jinghe’s cheeks in his hands. That peerlessly handsome face was now inches away, close enough to see the thick, dark lashes. Indeed, every feature exuded perfection. Sui Yuye had even thought he might be crying.
“Even without you, I would have found a way out. I don’t blame you for not being able to take me away right now, understand?”
“Don’t make that face again. It’s like I’m bullying you.”
Sui Yuye sighed and tugged at his tense face. “I’m the one who was locked up. Why do I have to comfort you instead?”
Shao Jinghe lowered his gaze to look at him and clicked his tongue. “Then put on the watch. Wear it properly. Don’t take it off or sell it.”
“Alright, alright, I understand.”
Sui Yuye relented and let the other put it on for him. “By the way, is Quan Wangcheng Rom?”
“Yes.” Shao Jinghe raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Sui Yuye pouted.
He hadn’t used any commands on him all this time, so he thought he might be a Normal or a Cub. If he were a Cub, that would be better—then he could give commands to mess with him.
Still, it was strange. If Quan Wangcheng really wanted to suppress him, why not just use commands?
Shao Jinghe: “You should be glad he doesn’t like using commands. It has to do with his family matters.”
Quan Wangcheng stood in the chaotic mess of the hall, wiping the blood from his face as his phone rang.
He stared at the word “Father” on the screen for a few seconds before bringing the phone to his ear.
“Quan Wangcheng! You worthless bastard! What stupid thing have you done!?”
Quan Wangcheng didn’t speak, merely holding the phone slightly away from his ear.
“I don’t care if you want to play games! But where did you find such a troublemaker?! The Qi family personally came to visit, and every word they said was a warning! And that Mian Guanfei—he’s indefinitely suspended all loan cooperation with our bank! Do you know what that means?! Huh!?”
Several servants were cleaning up the mess on the floor. Hearing the roar from the phone, someone secretly glanced at Quan Wangcheng, whose expression was blank but whose eyes were dark and terrifying.
“You’re just like your mother! Just as stupid and stubborn! Arrogant and disobedient! Your mother deserved to die early!”
Quan Wangcheng slowly tightened his grip on the phone, yet his voice remained calm and steady: “Are you done?”
Father Quan: “I don’t want to receive any more calls that shouldn’t have been made. You know what I mean.”
Quan Wangcheng’s mother passed away before he reached adulthood, tormented to death by his father’s commands. Mother Quan was very beautiful, a Cub, forcibly loved by Father Quan, who was a Rom.
Long-term command control drove Mother Quan to mental instability. She mistook Quan Wangcheng for Father Quan, attacking and scolding him violently whenever she saw him. In the end, Quan Wangcheng witnessed his mother’s suicide.
Because of his mother’s death, Quan Wangcheng despised all Roms, including himself. He believed that any Rom who issued commands without respecting others deserved to die.
“Isn’t that wrong? He still shouldn’t have shattered others. His childhood was tragic, but that’s no excuse for him to harm others,” Sui Yuye said, exasperated.
“I thought you were going to pity him,” Shao Jinghe said, his tone sinister.
Sui Yuye scowled: “Why should I pity him? Who’s going to pity me? I’m the victim here, right?”
“Sui Yuye,” Shao Jinghe called his name. “You only need to be gentle with me. Don’t share it with anyone else.”
Sui Yuye was taken aback: “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
He watched as the other straightened up. Shao Jinghe took his hand, looking at the beautiful wristwatch now adorning his wrist, which made Sui Yuye’s fingers appear slender and elegant. Shao Jinghe thought it suited him perfectly.
“Only the best is worthy of you, Sui Yuye. You deserve it,” Shao Jinghe said, looking at him.
Sui Yuye didn’t respond, lowering his gaze to the watch. He didn’t know whether he was smiling or not.
—Night.
Sui Yuye lay on the bed, his hands cuffed to the headboard. After locking him up, Quan Wangcheng had left and hadn’t returned for ten minutes. Sui Yuye was already starting to suspect that he intended to leave him chained to the bed like this.
Just as he was thinking about how to seek revenge after escaping, the door opened.
“It seems occupying territory games are quite popular these days,” Quan Wangcheng said, noticing the watch. He walked over to the bedside under Sui Yuye’s gaze.
Sui Yuye immediately tensed up. “What are you doing?”
“I’m joining in,” Quan Wangcheng said, grabbing his face.
Sui Yuye’s cheeks were squeezed tight, making his speech slurred. He glared fiercely at him, but his face was suddenly twisted to the side. For a moment, he thought the other was going to snap his neck.
A sharp, piercing pain suddenly shot through his right earlobe.
Sui Yuye instinctively struggled, the handcuffs clattering loudly. As his ear began to heat up and swell, he stared at him in disbelief, gritting his teeth to ask:
“Are you insane?! What are you doing piercing my ear? Couldn’t you have done it to yourself?”
No sooner had he finished cursing than Quan Wangcheng placed his hands on either side of his ears.
His eyes were reddened, yet there was no trace of vulnerability. His breathing caused his chest to rise and fall, helpless yet sensual. His Adam’s apple trembled slightly, and the look he gave you seemed to hold nothing but contempt.
So dazzling yet so prickly, isn’t he just waiting for someone to destroy him?
Sui Yuye frowned at the man looming over him. The sense of danger was overwhelming—broad shoulders, towering height, a face devoid of expression yet deeply invasive, making the mole beneath his eye impossible to ignore.
What the hell is this crazy bastard doing so close?
Sui Yuye turned his head away, but his chin was grabbed and forced back.
“What do you want? What’s wrong with you?” he snapped impatiently.
“Don’t you think it’s too bright here?” Quan Wangcheng asked softly.
Sui Yuye didn’t understand where the brightness was in the middle of the night with no lights on—until Quan Wangcheng locked him in a dark room.
A room without windows or any source of light.
Sui Yuye sat with his back against the wall, his handcuffs still on. He reached for his right ear to remove the earring, disgusted by wearing it even a second longer.
With a slight tug, a sharp pain shot through his earlobe. Worried about infection, he had to give up for now.
Time lost all meaning here.
Apart from his own breathing and heartbeat, there was nothing to hear—a terrifying silence.
Closing his eyes brought darkness; opening them brought the same darkness. There was no difference. Waking from sleep, he had no idea how many hours had passed.
At first, he mentally plotted ways to get back at Quan Wangcheng, but as visual and auditory stimuli faded, his mind grew sluggish.
Sui Yuye sat motionless by the wall.
He stopped trying to measure time and stopped thinking altogether.
Click.
The door opened, and light streamed in.
Quan Wangcheng walked to the wall, reached out, and lifted Sui Yuye’s chin.
No brokenness—none at all.
Sui Yuye finally lifted his eyelids, his voice hoarse from lack of water, and said wearily, “This trick doesn’t work on me. If you want to torture me, I suggest you use methods that draw blood.”
Quan Wangcheng stared into his eyes for a few seconds.
Suddenly, Sui Yuye felt himself being pulled up. He was lifted into a bridal carry, but he couldn’t be bothered to wonder why or to struggle. He didn’t even raise a hand, just closed his eyes in exhaustion.
Quan Wangcheng carried him out of the room. His chest suddenly felt heavier. He looked down—Sui Yuye’s head had dropped, resting against his chest.
Quan Wangcheng’s footsteps paused almost imperceptibly.