A faint, pricking sensation brushed over his skin, as if scraped by a razor blade. Liao Ran’s pores shuddered; the room’s ambient temperature felt to be around 10°C, which was clearly unfit for normal human comfort.
Landing white gauze curtains walled off the bed into a sealed enclosure, making it impossible to deduce his whereabouts from the interior design or layout. His left wrist was bound to the bed’s iron headboard by a cold, hard cuff.
A slight movement triggered the sharp, grating clatter of metal.
The sound overlapped with his last memory: the clinking of wine glasses.
In the top-floor banquet hall of the Boyue Hotel, a giant screen in the center of the hall scrolled with joyous news:
【Congratulations to Mr. Fu Chong on winning the Natural Science Gold Award and being conferred the title of Lifetime Professor at Tongxi Academy of Sciences.】
“This is the most outstanding achievement by our academy’s talent in thirty years. Young Fu has a limitless future,” said the grey-haired Vice President, his joy turning to grief. “It is a pity. If he had not met with that accident, he would have had a chance too.”
Saying this, he drained the champagne in his hand, his eyes turning red.
Fu Chong patted his arm in comfort.
Adjusting his state, the Vice President smacked his lips, swallowing the bitterness: “Look at me; on such a joyful day, I should not bring up such dampening topics. You managed to escape safely from the extremely perilous Mount Weier and even brought back a rare new plant species. The element extracted from it can suppress the proliferation of mutated cells. This is not just a new discovery in botany; it is a massive leap forward for medicine. You truly deserve all the credit.”
The Vice President grew more excited as he spoke, the light in his eyes reflecting a grand vision for the future, until he choked on his own saliva and returned to reality.
He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket to cover his mouth and nose: “Pardon me, I will take my leave for a moment. You are the main star today, so go mingle with everyone.”
Fu Chong could not care less about the direction the Vice President left in. He had heard these flattering words over a hundred times over the past half-month. Basking in praise and respect before countless spotlights, being the center of attention felt far better than he had imagined, to say nothing of moving from a basement into a luxury flat. Only when you possess them do you deeply realize: without fame and money, living is worse than death.
And having made it to where he was today, he wanted to share all of this success with only one person, the man currently walking in gracefully from the main entrance.
Liao Ran was tall with striking proportions. A plain white shirt fitted smoothly along the curves of his muscles, falling in elegant, artful folds, with every crease seeming deliberate, enhancing his refined, aristocratic air while adding a touch of lazy nobility. The collar was ironed flat without a stain or fuzzball, and every single button had been detached and re-sewn just to keep the buttonholes perfectly horizontal. Rigor was evident in the finest details, and even more so in his exquisite features: a pair of high-density, glass-like pupils that were captivating and soul-snatching, drawing one’s gaze in involuntarily, irresistible and completely at his mercy.
Liao Ran possessed this kind of magic. Beyond being a senior forensic pathologist, he was also a PhD in psychology. Rumor had it he could hypnotize a person with just his eyes; before him, lies were always unraveled, leaving nowhere to hide.
Liao Ran, whom no one could refuse, had nevertheless spent his life unilaterally isolating everyone.
“The Arctic Forensic Pathologist” was so cold that standing beside him made your hands and feet go stiff and your breathing slow down automatically. A natural buffer zone surrounded him, as if everyone feared disturbing a masterpiece of a man.
Only Fu Chong knew that he was warm on the inside despite his cold exterior. Only he knew the true Liao Ran, a fact that had made Fu Chong bite his pillowcase and giggle in secret during countless midnight dreams over the years.
“Congratulations,” Liao Ran said, handing over an exquisitely wrapped gift box. The ribbon was tied neatly, with one end exactly one finger’s length longer than the other.
Liao Ran had once mentioned that leaving these ten millimeters signified complete sincerity; he had wrapped it by hand. Holding it, Fu Chong was both thrilled to discover what was inside and reluctant to ruin it, his fingers trembling slightly as he felt the texture.
“Just having you here makes me overjoyed; I cannot believe you brought a gift too. I do not even know what to say.”
“Social etiquette is bothersome, but necessary. Apologies, I was delayed by work.” Liao Ran glanced at the diamond watch on his wrist; it was five minutes past the time on the invitation.
“Do not say that, it is fine. Coming from you, anything goes.” Fu Chong had reserved a VIP area specifically, guiding him into a semi-enclosed booth before taking a seat opposite him.
The celebration banquet followed a circular buffet model. At the center of the hall stood a champagne tower, surrounded by industry leaders engaged in warm networking.
In this relatively private space, as Fu Chong settled down, he almost felt he could hear the other man’s breathing.
He wiped his hands against his trousers countless times, yet sweat kept oozing from his palms.
Before, he had been a nobody. Now he possessed fame and status, with money continuously bridging the chasm between them. Finally, ten years after they first met, he had caught up to Liao Ran’s footsteps.
On this unforgettable day, he was going to convey his heart to Liao Ran.
“A-Ran, I have something very important to tell you.”
Fu Chong’s heart was practically leaping out of his chest; he did not dare look up. Clenching his fingers, the friction between his joints produced a cracking sound.
“Sick.”
Liao Ran’s voice struck like a heavy punch, shattering Fu Chong’s shyness and joy. He looked up in panic, only to realize Liao Ran was not speaking to him.
Following his gaze, Fu Chong noticed Liao Ran looking intently off to the side at a waiter.
Wearing a blue velvet shirt and a black vest, the waiter carried a towel over his arm, under which a swollen, deep-purple wound was faintly visible.
“Symptoms of a bacterial infection. I am not sure if it is contagious,” Liao Ran said, preparing to stand up, only for his wrist to be caught.
“Ignore him, he is not important. Just look at me today; please do not go.”
Fu Chong’s begging, humble eyes mirrored a look from years ago.
Back then, after being caught cheating on an exam, Fu Chong had been bullied and isolated. Dragging a torn backpack strap, he limped through torrential rain, drenched to the bone, blood streaming continuously from his knees.
A silver sports car had pulled up in front of him. A slender youth stepped out.
Fu Chong had frozen in place, watching the youth crouch before him and apply a whole box of band-aids to his legs. Though useless for the injury, it repaired Fu Chong’s shattered dignity and his self-esteem that had been dragged through the dirt.
His name was Liao Ran, the only son of the Director of Tongxi Academy of Sciences.
Having spent a long time buried in darkness, catching that fleeting beam of light made Fu Chong swear to himself: he would never give anyone another chance to trample on him. He would claw his way up the ladder at all costs to stand at the top of the pyramid as an equal.
The odd waiter vanished in the blink of an eye. Having no choice but to drop the matter, Liao Ran lowered his eyes: “Still not letting go?”
Fu Chong retracted his hand as if electrocuted. With the warmth of Liao Ran’s skin lingering on his palm, his face flushed hot and his throat felt dry. Flustered, he grabbed the red wine before him and downed it in one gulp.
The alcohol regurgitated, and he swallowed back a burp.
Taking a deep breath, he staked all his courage on one single throw: “I…”
“I know what you want to say,” Liao Ran said, raising his eyes.
His gaze was as sharp as a scalpel, leaving Fu Chong feeling dissected into pieces. He really knew.
“Then what is your answer?”
Watching Liao Ran’s lips part slightly, Fu Chong suddenly felt terrified; losing this person would be no different from taking his life. “No, I do not want to hear it.”
Liao Ran picked up his knife and fork, taking a bite of the steak in front of him while waiting for Fu Chong to regain his composure.
Overwhelmed, Fu Chong buried his face in the napkin, secretly wiping away his tears.
The barely audible sobs rendered the food in Liao Ran’s mouth tasteless.
Wiping his mouth and straightening his cuffs, Liao Ran noticed a spot of sauce on his sleeve; uncharacteristically, his mind fell into disarray. The man before him was his only friend.
In his eyes, Fu Chong was an exceptionally hardworking and driven person possessing a strong heart, which was enough to carry him through one ordeal after another. Tonight should have been his most glorious moment, and Liao Ran did not wish to rob him of the happiness he deserved.
“Fu Chong, intimate relationships are a burden to me. If you promise not to take up too much of my time, what you want can be discussed.”
As if winning the jackpot of his life, Fu Chong snapped his head up so fast that he strained his neck without feeling the pain. He pinched the inside of his thigh, wincing.
“Ouch! Are you really agreeing to be with me? I am not dreaming, am I?”
Liao Ran nodded, though his brows remained knitted: “However, aside from my forensic work, I have private tutoring sessions, book clubs, and seminars every day. I really cannot guarantee you will be satisfied with less than a day’s worth of total time together per week.”
“I accept! I can accept that! Even if it is just one minute, I would be so happy I would fly to heaven!”
Hearing these words straight from his heart made Liao Ran’s scalp go numb.
Even a boundary crossed in language alone made him intensely uncomfortable.
Whether psychologically or physically, Liao Ran had always kept a vast distance from everyone. The moment someone drew near, he would instantly sever any potential connection.
Yet no matter how he evaded him, Fu Chong always found ways to get close, staying at a distance that was neither too far nor too near.
If a human was born destined not to be alone, then perhaps Fu Chong was his other half.
“I want a drink,” Liao Ran said, unsettled by his own conclusion.
“I will fetch it for you!” Fu Chong stepped briskly, darting off like the wind.
Liao Ran took another bite of the steak. The black pepper aroma was rich; it tasted quite good.
Just then, a glass of wine was quietly placed before him.
An unfamiliar voice sounded from above: “This is the wine Mr. Fu ordered for you. Please enjoy.”
He did not bring it over himself because he was probably feeling embarrassed, Liao Ran thought. He picked up the glass and tilted his head slightly, letting the pungent red liquid flow down his throat. It was not sour or astringent, but rather carried a foul, decayed taste. He felt his vision being engulfed by a dark mist. In the second before his sight was stolen, his peripheral vision caught the waiter’s arm; black blood was oozing from it.
Judging by the angle of the moonlight, the current time was roughly the same as when he had lost consciousness, though he could not tell how many days had passed.
Terrifying footsteps approached from afar.
The visitor pushed open the door, and a pair of hands with bulging veins parted the gauze curtain.
Carrying a tray of surgical instruments, the man approached and sat at the edge of the bed.
Abduction, imprisonment, and restriction of personal freedom: his appearance did not look like that of someone who would commit such acts. The man had a sharp jawline with minimal facial negative space; from his brow ridge to the bridge of his nose, his features were defined and dimensional, casting deep shadows on his profile. His deep-set eye sockets and prominent lower eye bags bore a faint trace of ruthlessness, which was subtly softened by his amber pupils. His cold, pale skin carried both aggression and a heroic air.
Seeing the person on the bed awake, the man frowned, deliberating whether to knock him out again.
Liao Ran spoke first: “Your cornea is cloudy with white maculae, and the lesions on your skin are ulcerating and emanating a foul odor. Based on the patch-like livor mortis, you have been dead for over two months.” At this moment, Liao Ran was analyzing him like a corpse on an autopsy table, completely overlooking the question of why a corpse rotten to the bone was still alive.
He continued to inspect the man in front of him.
“In the missing persons registry over the past three months, three people are recorded: two females and one male.” Liao Ran’s gaze dropped to the obvious bulge in the man’s shorts: “You display clear male characteristics. There are light circular marks around your eye sockets, matching the eyepiece diameter of a microscope specifically used for material testing. You are the biologist Bai Ji, Professor Bai, from the Mount Weier survey team who met with an accident.”
The man let out a cold, light chuckle, calmly clapping his hands: “His character may be garbage, but his taste is top-notch. For you to be this sharp, I will have to be even more careful.”
Liao Ran’s mind was racing, trying to grasp the situation as quickly as possible: “The marks on a body do not lie. I can understand that you have suffered inhuman torture. Perhaps I can help you find the truth and bring you justice.”
“The truth no longer matters to me. Justice does not exist in this world,” Bai Ji said. “I only want revenge. I will make the culprit suffer a fate worse than death, just like me.”
Bai Ji picked up Liao Ran’s arm, his fingertips patrolling over the fair skin until he chose a satisfactory spot, then reached for the syringe on the tray.
Liao Ran struggled instinctively, causing the glass vial to drop and shatter, spilling a thick black liquid onto the floor.
The veins on Bai Ji’s forehead bulged. Pressing his tongue against his lower teeth, he hooked his fingers; the black liquid actually floated into the air, tracing along his fingertips and entering his body.
“Since you do not like that way, I will switch to another.”
Bai Ji suddenly pinned his arms down, pressing him against the bed.
Straddling Liao Ran’s waist to restrain his legs, he bent down and bit fiercely into his neck.
A tearing, bone-deep pain surged. Liao Ran bit his lips hard, refusing to make a sound. After a few seconds, bright red blood seeped from where Bai Ji’s mouth was clamped down, yet instead of dripping, it was completely devoured by a cluster of black mist.
Looking closely, the black mist was composed of miniature flying insects. They devoured Liao Ran’s blood before burrowing into his body through the wound, the mist absorbed into his system.
Liao Ran felt foreign entities traveling along his bloodstream toward his chest, tightly wrapping around his heart without leaving a single gap. It was suffocating and oppressive, making it impossible to breathe. He panted rapidly, even opening his mouth wide to gasp for air.
“Ugh, ah, help me,” he whispered. He wanted to call for help, only to realize there was no one here except his captor and himself.
In despair, Liao Ran pushed against the chest of the man pressing down on him, physiological tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.
Tasting the saltiness, Bai Ji finally released his neck.
The person beneath him had reddened eyes and unfocused pupils. The usually untouchable “Arctic Forensic Pathologist” now looked so fragile and broken, like a drowning mermaid who might turn into sea foam at a single touch.
“When Fu Chong sees you like this, I wonder how heartbroken he will be. No, it is not time yet. I am going to make you belong to me from head to toe.”
Bai Ji covered Liao Ran’s eyes with his large hand.
“He will lose you forever.”