Losing Control
It was another night of being forced back to the apartment by Zhou Shou.
Outside, the rain poured down in sheets, the windshield wipers moving rhythmically left and right—each swipe scraping against my nerves.
The car was filled with a suffocating silence.
Zhou Shou, as always, focused on driving, but tonight, there was a shadow of irritation in his expression.
All the resentment, humiliation, and fear that had been piling up inside me swelled under the rhythm of the rain, spreading moldy patches of gloom through my chest.
Every time he forced me into the car, every second I sat there trembling, feeling those invisible eyes watching me. Every time he dragged me back into that cage of an apartment—
I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
The car pulled into the underground garage and stopped. Zhou Shou unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over, as usual, to undo mine.
“Don’t touch me!” I slapped his hand away, my voice breaking into a hysterical pitch.
His movement paused, his eyes darkening instantly. “Ji Chi, don’t make a scene.”
He had no right to warn me.
“Make a scene? You think this is me making a scene?” The floodgates burst open—I was a trapped, cornered animal, my eyes red as I glared at him. “Zhou Shou, I’m not your pet! I’m not your property! I have my own life—what gives you the right to treat me like this?”
I tried to shove the car door open—but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. “Open the door! I’m going home—I’m going back to school, to my home!”
Zhou Shou let out a low, cold laugh and grabbed my struggling arm. His voice was laced with quiet menace. “This is your home.”
“It’s not! It’ll never be!” I screamed, thrashing with all the strength I had left.
Fear and anger completely drowned out reason. I just wanted to push him away, to get out, to escape this prison.
I flailed wildly, my nails scraping against something in the chaos.
“—Tss!”
The sharp sound of a hiss broke through the air, followed by Zhou Shou’s low, slightly angry voice. “Ji Chi, behave.”
The air froze.
My raised hands stopped midair. In the dim glow of the car light, I saw him turn his head slightly. Across his left cheek, from his cheekbone to near his ear, were three long, clear scratches.
Thin lines of bright red welled up from them, slowly bleeding down his tanned skin—vivid, horrifying.
All my fury vanished in an instant, replaced by sheer panic and dread.
I scratched him?
I actually scratched Zhou Shou’s face.
Would he lose his temper?
Would I even make it out alive?
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I—” The terror strangled my words. I stammered, trembling uncontrollably, shrinking back until my body pressed against the door.
My eyes locked on those scratches, and I could already see my own tragic ending.
He was such a proud, domineering man. I’d just marred his face—how could he ever face anyone like that?
What would he do to me in return?
Tears spilled out uncontrollably, my voice breaking as I cried, “I’m sorry, Zhou Shou, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it—please let me go, I’m begging you.”
But the outburst of fury I expected never came.
Zhou Shou remained motionless, still turned slightly away.
He lifted his hand, his fingertips gently brushing the wound. He slowly wiped away the traces of blood, his movements strangely calm.
Then he lowered his eyes, staring at the red smear on his fingers—his expression unreadable, complicated.
The only sounds left in the car were my muffled sobs and the steady patter of rain outside.
I don’t know how long we sat there like that before he finally turned his head back.
He didn’t look at me. His gaze was unfocused, staring somewhere far away. All that aggression and possessiveness had completely vanished, replaced by something else—deep exhaustion, and even… fear.
When he spoke, his voice trembled. “Don’t apologize…”
I froze, forgetting to cry, staring at him blankly.
He took a deep breath, like he had to summon every ounce of strength to keep speaking. His voice turned small, desperate, pleading—something I’d never heard from him before.
“Ji Chi… don’t leave me. Please. Okay?”
I was stunned.
The man who had always been like a tyrant—right now, with blood on his face—looked fragile, like a piece of glass about to shatter.
He was begging me not to leave him, his voice soaked in despair.
The contrast hit me so hard my mind went blank.
What the hell was happening?
…Had I been brainwashed into some new kind of PUA?