Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 28: Got You, Don’t Even Think About Escaping

Chapter 28: Got You, Don’t Even Think About Escaping

The sky was truly dark.

The moment Xu Jiu passed out, perhaps spurred by adrenaline, he briefly regained consciousness.

The faint light directly in front of his vision grew increasingly distant. He had struggled so hard to stay outside that circle of light, yet now he could only watch helplessly as he was swallowed by the darkness.

He was being carried over someone’s shoulder, his body draped across it, his arms hanging limp as if broken, swaying with each step and lightly tapping against the person’s back with every movement.

He was like a stuffed doll with all the stuffing pulled out, utterly powerless to resist.

His head ached terribly, his eyelids felt heavy, drowsiness weighed on him intensely—it felt as though his very soul was about to drift away.

Was it Cao Weidong?

Clutching at the last shred of clarity, Xu Jiu asked himself this question. There was no time to ponder it, let alone find an answer, before he blacked out once more.

And so, the sky plunged into complete darkness.

Cao Weidong lowered his gaze to the unconscious form in his hands, his expression blank, his eyes like stagnant water, devoid of any emotion.

Knocking him out had brought no sense of satisfaction.

Watching him bleed and suffer hadn’t sparked the slightest pleasure.

Immersed in the pitch-black darkness, Cao Weidong carried Xu Jiu step by step into the warehouse, yet his heart remained hollow, devoid of any sense of fulfillment.

Cao Weidong switched on the light. The bulb’s wattage was low, casting not a bright glow but a decaying, yellowish hue.

He propped Xu Jiu against the wall. Blood continued to flow, tracing chaotic patterns on the rough concrete floor.

Cao Weidong was well-practiced in stopping bleeding, easing pain, and tending to wounds. With a warm towel in hand, he carefully wiped the blood from Xu Jiu’s face. Then, he took out the deep red leather collar that Xu Jiu had chosen himself and held it up to Xu Jiu’s neck for comparison.

It fit just about right—a perfect match. It really did make his skin look fairer.

Yet, even as he went through these motions, Cao Weidong still felt nothing.

He even began to wonder if he truly hated Xu Jiu as much as he thought. Perhaps it was simply that Xu Jiu was the only name left in his life that he could call out, and so Xu Jiu had become his target.

Cao Weidong’s movements grew hesitant.

It wasn’t too late to cast Xu Jiu out now. He was noisy, temperamental, and ill-suited for companionship. Life would be easier without such a burden.

But things had already gone this far—might as well give it a try.

After all, the deep red leather collar was one Xu Jiu had chosen and bought himself. Why not try putting it on him?

He draped the collar around Xu Jiu’s neck, tightened the strap to secure it, and then covered the leather with both hands, pressing down until the collar closed snugly against Xu Jiu’s throat.

A crisp click echoed—the sound of the buckle locking into place.

As that sharp sound faded, Cao Weidong’s heart seemed to settle along with it.

In that instant, an intense surge of emotion burst into his chest.

Heavy and pressing, it brought an indescribable, squeezing sensation against his heart, filling the emptiness and desolation that had flowed through his entire being.

It was a feeling Cao Weidong had never experienced before—ten, a hundred times stronger than the sense of possession he’d felt a decade ago when he picked up that stray dog.

Xu Jiu was no stray dog. Xu Jiu was beautiful, well-liked.

And he had obtained him.

Seized him through despicable, underhanded means, taken him by force.

This dishonor only added to the weight pressing down on Cao Weidong’s heart.

More intense emotions surged like a bursting reservoir, wave after mountainous wave violently crashing against Cao Weidong’s body, threatening to tear him apart.

All pallor and darkness were now saturated by Xu Jiu’s red.

Crimson, pink.

Like the marks on Xu Jiu’s neck left by his choking hands, deepening from pink to crimson.

If Xu Jiu were awake now, he’d surely be screaming to kill him.

Involuntarily, Cao Weidong’s emotions stirred along with this imagined version of Xu Jiu, his eyes betraying unconcealable, uncontrollable obsession as he stared transfixed.

Too intense.

Was this hatred?

It seemed like hatred.

A hatred so fierce he wanted to drag Xu Jiu to death with him, to shatter his limbs, stuff him into a box buried deep in earth, hidden where only he could know, possessed completely.

Cao Weidong’s breathing grew increasingly ragged. He inhaled sharply, then exhaled with venom, his hanging hands clenching into fists, fingers pressing so hard his palm lines turned blood-red.

Such terrifying emotions he’d only felt once before – as a child holding his parents’ ashes by the river, ready to jump in with them.

Cao Weidong remembered clearly.

That feeling of liberation when a deeply held obsession finally finds release.

As if dead embers accumulated within his body had been ignited, blazing fiercely, scorching heat searing through every part of him, all blood vessels and meridians set ablaze with intense desire.

Like dying, yet like being reborn.

Like an infant’s first long cry at birth, yet like a person’s final long sigh before death.

A beginning and an end, the ultimate conclusion.

But!

His right hand abruptly broke free, trembling uncontrollably, sending unbearable stinging pain, reminding him to stay awake.

The doctor had said because of long-term neglect, even with good recovery, his right hand would never be the same as a normal one.

Cao Weidong began to calm down. He brought over a chair and sat beside Xu Jiu, his shoe lightly resting against Xu Jiu’s calf – not stepping, just touching, allowing his sense of possession to linger a little longer.

Time to consider the next step.

Cao Weidong thought long and hard, until all his thoughts condensed into one sentence:

Xu Jiu cannot die.

Everything Cao Weidong had was in this small warehouse, and Xu Jiu was part of what he possessed.

Because Cao Weidong didn’t want to die, Xu Jiu must live.

Xu Jiu was all he had left that he couldn’t afford to lose.

Several minutes later, Cao Weidong dressed and went out again.

He returned half an hour later with purchased cloth strips and ropes, holding his breath before opening the door. He thought Xu Jiu should be awake by now, and he hadn’t prepared ropes in advance to restrain him.

Given Xu Jiu’s self-destructive tendencies, he might end himself anytime after waking.

Creak—

The door opened.

Cao Weidong stood in the darkness, peering into the darkness.

No movement. Only then did he dare turn on the light and close the door.

Xu Jiu hadn’t woken.

He sighed in relief.
So Cao Weidong bound Xu Jiu’s hands behind his back with cloth strips. With extra fabric left, after some thought, he simply blindfolded Xu Jiu.

Then he fastened one end of the leather collar to the wall, shortening the leash so Xu Jiu couldn’t move beyond the corner between walls.

Cao Weidong had thought about treating Xu Jiu well, but he was truly terrified that if he let go, Xu Jiu would immediately die before his eyes.

After completing all this, Cao Weidong sat on the chair and looked up at the ceiling, where a surveillance camera was aimed directly at the corner of the wall.

He shifted his gaze back to Xu Jiu. He had sat by Xu Jiu’s legs all night, the sole of his shoe gently rubbing against the exposed, pale, delicate skin of Xu Jiu’s ankle, wearing away a thin layer until it turned from faint white to light pink and finally flushed deep red.

In the latter half of the night, as the chill set in, Cao Weidong worried that Xu Jiu might catch cold. He brought the quilt from the bed and carefully draped it over him, tucking a pillow beneath his head.

He remained seated nearby, observing from the sidelines, watching quietly.

By the time dawn broke, Xu Jiu still showed no signs of waking. Cao Weidong, out of habit, went out to buy breakfast.

He thought Xu Jiu would be hungry when he woke up later.

Cao Weidong bought two meat buns but didn’t get anything for himself.

He was running low on money—his last five hundred yuan had already dwindled, and he’d spent three hundred of it on a thick, warm cotton outfit. It wasn’t for himself, but for Xu Jiu.

He thought, this winter is bitterly cold, and Xu Jiu would freeze if he stayed with him.

Cao Weidong continued to watch over Xu Jiu until almost noon, approaching afternoon, but Xu Jiu still hadn’t woken.

However, Cao Weidong had to tutor a high school student in the afternoon. The pay was generous, and his financial struggles left him no room to refuse.

After all, taking care of Xu Jiu was an expensive endeavor, so he naturally chose to go out and earn some money.

But.

In truth, Xu Jiu had woken up long ago.

It was just that his eyes were covered with a cloth strip. When he woke, everything was pitch black, the same darkness as when he was unconscious.

Cao Weidong, being the quiet type, sat motionless in his chair, staring at Xu Jiu without making a sound.

Xu Jiu thought he was dead, so he lay perfectly still.

It wasn’t until Cao Weidong stood up, opened the door, and closed it again in one fluid motion that Xu Jiu suddenly jolted upright from the floor, gasping for breath, desperately trying to break free from his restraints.

He wasn’t dead!

He was alive!

This was a kidnapping!

Terrified, Xu Jiu assessed his current situation.

He first tried struggling to break loose, but his wrists and neck were tightly bound with ropes. The more he struggled, the more his wrists and neck chafed, the pain intensifying as if they were about to be rubbed raw, making him tremble.

The pain tugged at the wound on the back of his head, and the white gauze slowly soaked through with a pale pink hue until a warm drop of blood trickled down his neck. Only then did Xu Jiu settle down.

“Is anyone there?!”

“Hello?!”

Xu Jiu began shouting.

He shouted for a long time, until a metallic taste rose in his throat, before reluctantly giving up.

Once the panic-driven impulse subsided, Xu Jiu realized he couldn’t escape his predicament and decided to conserve his energy. Leaning against the wall, he sat up and carefully retraced the events leading up to the kidnapping.

His memory rewound, stopping at the moment after he had parted ways with Cao Weidong.

“I knew there had to be other bad guys hiding in that darkness! Someone as rich and unprotected as me—it’s only normal to get kidnapped.”

Xu Jiu muttered to himself.

But then another thought crossed his mind, “Could it be Cao Weidong?”

The moment he thought of Cao Weidong, his fear lessened, replaced by a sense of reassurance.

“Forget it, I’ll wait until whoever it is comes back.”

Xu Jiu lay back down on the bare, hard floor. The cold, unyielding surface and walls dug into him, leaving his body sore and aching. Restless, he shifted between sitting and lying down.

Finally, exhausted, he sprawled on the floor, letting his thoughts wander, wondering how he could provoke Cao Weidong if it turned out to be him.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he finally heard the thud of a door opening and closing.

Back so soon? Xu Jiu preempted.

The other party ignored him.

Xu Jiu sat up, craning his neck as he loudly declared with self-righteous conviction:

Do you have any idea who I am? I’m Xu Jiu, the eldest son of the Xu family! Let me tell you, my friend knows I’m here. He’ll come for you soon. My mother must already know I’m missing by now. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go. Otherwise, you’ll regret this!

The other party continued to disregard him.

Xu Jiu spat and unleashed a torrent of fluent curses, indiscriminately insulting the other’s ancestors for eighteen generations, mothers and fathers alike.

You bastard, who the hell do you think you are, daring to tie me up? Get over here and untie me now!

Cao Weidong watched Xu Jiu cursing incessantly in the corner and found it unbearably noisy.

Hearing footsteps approaching, Xu Jiu escalated his insults, deliberately targeting crude and vulgar topics, cursing as if he wanted to strip every inch of dignity from the person.

Then, suddenly, a slap landed.

One moment, Xu Jiu was aggressive and confrontational; the next, his teeth bit his tongue, and his head snapped to the side.

The slap didn’t hurt much—it was even less painful than the rope burns on his wrists.

It felt more like a reprimand than a punishment.

To Xu Jiu, it was oddly satisfying.

Before he could savor the feeling, a warm hand pressed against his chin, and a thumb forcefully pushed into his mouth without any regard for boundaries, pressing his tongue down and pulling it taut against his jaw.

His mouth was stretched to its limit, the corners burning as if they were about to tear.

But Xu Jiu couldn’t speak. Drool trickled from the corners of his mouth like tears, dripping down as if admitting fault.

Now, it wasn’t satisfying anymore.

The pressure was applied just enough to make Xu Jiu feel pain without overwhelming him—a warning to behave and know his place.

When the hand withdrew from his mouth, Xu Jiu obediently clamped his lips shut, pressing them tightly together to show the person before him that he understood his mistake.

This person wasn’t like Cao Weidong. Cao Weidong wasn’t this cruel.

Xu Jiu pondered silently.

After the slap came the treat.

Cao Weidong tossed a cold steamed bun near Xu Jiu’s hand, signaling him to eat.

Xu Jiu didn’t dare move. The lingering pain from his stretched mouth and the fear still held him captive.

Cao Weidong paid him no further mind. He set up a table not far from Xu Jiu, sat in front of the computer, and began focusing on his own tasks.

He was busy because he was broke.

He had to prepare lessons for his students, write reports for the school, and draft a criminal lawsuit.

His left hand never stopped typing on the keyboard, while his right hand handled only basic tasks like deleting and line breaks. Yet his movements were fluid, rapid, and skilled—nothing like someone with a disabled right hand.

Beside the computer lay a box of Xu Jiu’s belongings: his wallet, phone, ID card, and cigarette case.

The sound of typing felt like knives to Xu Jiu, raining down one after another like a storm of swords, piercing him until he felt wounded and near death.

This definitely wasn’t Cao Weidong.

Cao Weidong’s right hand was useless—he couldn’t possibly type this skillfully.

Xu Jiu’s world collapsed.

According to the rules of the Quick Transmigration Bureau, he could only die at Cao Weidong’s hands.

Dying by someone else’s hand meant mission failure. If his performance didn’t meet standards, he would be sent to the Flower Market to become cannon fodder.

The Flower Market—

Cannon fodder—

No!

Absolutely not!

This was a thousand, ten thousand times more agonizing than killing him. He would rather beg shamelessly for a chance to live.

Xu Jiu moved, catching Cao Weidong’s attention.

Cao Weidong had envisioned many scenarios of what might happen when Xu Jiu woke up and had prepared for all of them.

Until Xu Jiu let out a heart-wrenching wail.

For the first time, Cao Weidong understood what it meant to be at a complete loss.

The wail was followed by sobbing, kneeling on the ground, and kowtowing while pleading without a shred of dignity, as if Xu Jiu was willing to do anything just to stay alive.

It was a stark contrast to the self-destructive Xu Jiu that Cao Weidong remembered.

Brother! What do you want? I have a lot of money. I can give you anything. Please, let me go.

Don’t kill me!

I’m begging you, please! I really have money. My bank card is tucked inside my phone case. The PIN is 040121. There’s a lot of money in it. If it’s not enough to buy my life, I can get more! My family is rich!

Xu Jiu’s forehead hit the ground with loud, crisp thuds, each kowtow resolute and unhesitating.

Cao Weidong watched Xu Jiu without reacting, because this unfamiliar version of him left him unsure how to respond.

It shouldn’t be like this.

Xu Jiu had never been like this before.

Cao Weidong instinctively took a cigarette from the pack beside him, lit it, and brought it to his lips, seeking a familiar sense of Xu Jiu in the smoke.

Xu Jiu continued to babble.

Brother? Sister?

Are you a brother or a sister?!

I’m begging you! If you’re a sister, look at how pretty I am. I could even be your male pet! Please, don’t kill me!

Xu Jiu suddenly stopped kowtowing and pushed his face forward, rubbing against Cao Weidong’s leg, moving his cheeks from side to side as he smiled ingratiatingly. I really am pretty. If you’re interested in me, as long as I can live, I’ll do anything! I can top or bottom!

Cao Weidong’s brow furrowed tightly. He realized that Xu Jiu was afraid of death and knew how to adapt to the situation.

To survive, Xu Jiu would strip himself of all dignity, pleading for his life without shame. But in front of Cao Weidong, he would only taunt and provoke death.

So all of Xu Jiu’s malice was reserved for him alone—all the ugliness, the destructiveness, the self-ruin—unleashed without restraint solely upon him.

Cao Weidong stepped forward, bent down, and gripped Xu Jiu’s chin, pushing him away to stop him from rubbing against his leg.

Finally making contact with his captor, Xu Jiu lowered his head meekly and carefully rested his cheek in the other’s broad palm, like a puppy placing its face in its owner’s hand. With tear-filled eyes, he pleaded, Don’t kill me, okay? I’m afraid to die.

Tears streamed down Xu Jiu’s face, and his voice trembled.

The tears flowing into his palm eased the tension in Cao Weidong’s furrowed brow.

This was fine too. He didn’t have to do anything, and Xu Jiu wouldn’t be begging for death.

Cao Weidong stood up, and Xu Jiu was left pressing against empty air.

Brother? Sister?

Cao Weidong went back to what he was doing. There was nothing that couldn’t be resolved with a little cold indifference.

Xu Jiu would tire himself out from crying. Let him cry.

Xu Jiu was stunned.

From his perspective, everything had taken on a sinister, horrifying tone—a vicious kidnapping with terrifying implications.

Xu Jiu had no idea who this person was or what their motive for kidnapping him could be.

It seemed they weren’t after money or his body. So, weren’t they after his life?

Xu Jiu was both frightened and sorrowful, yet the silence in the room made him afraid to cry loudly. Biting his lips, he sobbed quietly, gradually releasing the intense grievance piled up in his chest.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when the sound of keyboard tapping ceased, followed by the rushing of water. Moments later, an unfamiliar scent of shampoo wafted through the room—nothing like the fragrance Cao Weidong used to have in his rented apartment.

Even the smell was unfamiliar, not belonging to Cao Weidong.

Xu Jiu couldn’t convince himself that Cao Weidong was deliberately staying silent to scare him.

The uninjured right hand, the unfamiliar scent, and the practiced way of smoking—in his darkness, this unidentified person was doing everything contrary to Cao Weidong’s ways.

Are you going to sleep? Xu Jiu uttered a weak voice. Having cried for a long time and gone without food for a day and a night, he felt increasingly frail.

Footsteps approached and stopped in front of Xu Jiu.

Xu Jiu knew he was listening and pleaded, I’m hungry.

Two cold buns were shoved into Xu Jiu’s hands.

His heart sank, for although his hands appeared to hang at his sides, a tightly bound rope connected his arms from behind, restricting his movement to only that position.

He couldn’t lift the buns or eat anything.

How am I supposed to eat? Xu Jiu muttered with little confidence.

A cold bun was pressed against Xu Jiu’s mouth, hand-fed to him bite by bite.

In Cao Weidong’s world, eating cold food was normal, especially something like meat buns, which he usually couldn’t afford to buy.

So, he didn’t think he was mistreating Xu Jiu.

Is there anything warm? Xu Jiu asked again but quickly followed up with a string of apologies.

Sorry, it’s fine if there’s nothing warm. I just don’t really like cold food, not that I absolutely refuse it. Of course, warm would be better.

There was no response, and even the bun at his lips was taken away.

The closed iron door opened and shut, emitting a cold, clanging sound.

Did he go sharpen a knife because I annoyed him?

Xu Jiu’s mind buzzed with panic. Who would storm out to fetch a weapon over such a trivial matter?

I’ll eat! I said I’ll eat! Please come back!

No one answered Xu Jiu’s pleas. The icy silence felt like a guillotine blade hanging over his head.

Cao Weidong had only been gone for about ten minutes—he had rushed to a shop near the school to buy hot porridge and hurried back.

When he returned and pushed the door open, he saw Xu Jiu facing sideways, biting into a cold bun.

At the sound of the door, Xu Jiu immediately launched into his fawning act.

He buried his face in the plastic bag, devouring the bun with desperate loyalty—regardless of the filling or temperature—gulping down two mouthfuls per bun without chewing, all to stay alive.

The bun in Xu Jiu’s mouth was dug out by a hand.

No… no… I said I’d eat it!

Xu Jiu was no match for the man. His mouth was cleared completely.

In the darkness, unsure of what would happen next but afraid that speaking more would provoke disgust, he pressed his lips together, lowered his head, and breathed uneasily.

Then, a plastic spoon holding something warm and unknown was brought to his lips. Xu Jiu cautiously extended his tongue to taste it.

It was sweet porridge.

Xu Jiu asked softly, ingratiatingly, Is this for me? Brother, have you eaten? Are you hungry?

The spoon pressed against his lips trembled slightly.

Xu Jiu’s heart leapt with joy—ingratiation indeed proved effective.

It’s a bit hot, let me blow on it for you before you eat.

Xu Jiu kissed the edge of the spoon and gently exhaled a few soft breaths.

Brother, it’s just the right temperature now.

In the moment Xu Jiu spoke, the spoon seized the opportunity to slip right into his mouth.

Suppressing fear and disgust, Xu Jiu forced a smile and exclaimed with fawning delight, Is this for me to eat? Thank you, brother!

The other person remained silent, merely shoving spoonfuls of porridge into Xu Jiu’s mouth.

After Xu Jiu mentioned it was too hot, every subsequent spoonful was carefully blown on before being offered.

It’s delicious, thank you, brother.

If it weren’t for you, brother, I’d never have known such delicious porridge existed in the world.

Did you make this yourself, brother? Your cooking skills are amazing—even my family’s chef can’t compare.

You’re really good at taking care of people, brother. No one has ever fed me so patiently by hand before—you’re the first.

With every bite, Xu Jiu would lavish praise on this mysterious brother, enthusiastically calling out to him regardless of the other’s attitude.

The other person completely ignored each of Xu Jiu’s flattering remarks.

He continued feeding the porridge; Xu Jiu continued seeking favor. Each carried on with their own agenda, entirely disconnected.

Suddenly, Xu Jiu clamped down on the spoon and mumbled cheerfully, trying to ingratiate himself, Brother, I really like you. I feel like we’re already good friends.

Finally, there was a response—though it was an extremely subtle, Mm.

This mm was so brief it only confirmed the speaker was male, offering no hint of his current mood.

But after laying the groundwork for so long, Xu Jiu wasn’t about to abandon his ultimate goal because of this cold reply.

Releasing the spoon, Xu Jiu asked timidly and guiltily, Brother, you wouldn’t hurt your good friend, right?

This time, there was no response.

But beyond Xu Jiu’s blindfolded eyes, Cao Weidong wore an undisguised smile. The feeding paused as he intently pondered the words good friend in Xu Jiu’s tone.

Xu Jiu had no choice but to brazenly continue the act: Brother? Are you hungry? My bank card PIN is 040121—take the money and treat yourself to something nice.

Smacking his lips twice, Xu Jiu found his mouth bland, and his words followed suit, lacking flavor: We’re like one now, brother. What’s mine is yours.

Hearing the weariness in Xu Jiu’s tone, Cao Weidong knew the performance had exhausted him. He put away the porridge and withdrew.

Cao Weidong returned to his tasks, and the room was filled only with the sound of keyboard clicks—nothing else.

Xu Jiu even began to wonder if the room had no windows or doors, as if the world outside was an empty void, leaving just the two of them in isolated seclusion.

Otherwise, why hadn’t he heard even a single bird chirp since waking up?

Brother, could you give me a pillow to lean on? Or some clothes would work too.

Cao Weidong brought him a pillow but didn’t hurry back to his seat.

He stood to the side, watching as Xu Jiu curled up naturally against the pillow to sleep, much like a dog he had once raised.

Unable to resist, he crouched down and touched Xu Jiu’s cheek.

Xu Jiu immediately jolted in shock, mumbling in flustered embarrassment, Brother… if you’ve taken a liking to me, I… I-I wouldn’t necessarily mind.

But nothing came of it.

The keyboard sounds resumed in the room; the other had merely touched him briefly and simply.

It made Xu Jiu seem like the inappropriate one.

No further words were exchanged. Full and weary, Xu Jiu began to catch up on sleep, drifting off to the rhythm of the keyboard—this being the third time he had fallen asleep so smoothly and soundly.

The first two times had been in Cao Weidong’s bed.

After washing up, Cao Weidong also helped Xu Jiu wipe his hands, feet, and face, replacing the gauze on the back of his head with a clean one. His movements were swift and neat, causing Xu Jiu no pain at all. Instead, Xu Jiu felt an inexplicable sense of comfort from being cared for.

Was this really a kidnapping? It didn’t seem like one.

Pondering this, Xu Jiu leaned against the pillow and fell asleep again.

Everyone thought the day would end peacefully, with calm prevailing.

But in the latter half of the night, Xu Jiu suddenly suffered from stomach pain. The congee he had eaten during the day was vomited up, splattering all over the floor, and he struggled to breathe.

Xu Jiu’s consciousness was hazy; he only knew he was in agony. Lying in the arms of the kidnapper he had cursed countless times, he received care and comfort throughout the night.

At the slightest stir from Xu Jiu, the other’s warm, broad hand would gently press against his forehead, providing warmth, then move to his stomach, applying restrained, soothing rubs.

In his daze, Xu Jiu thought he heard Cao Weidong’s voice, but he wasn’t sure if it was a hallucination from the pain.

Cao Weidong asked him, Still feeling unwell?

Xu Jiu nodded, then shook his head.

A bit cold, Xu Jiu added.

Understood, Cao Weidong replied.

Out of habit, Xu Jiu tried to ingratiate himself, thinking that if he softened the other’s heart, he might be released.

Brother, you’re so good to me. I really think you’re the best person in the world to me.

There was no response from the other.

Just as Xu Jiu was about to speak again, that hand gripped his chin, the thumb pressing warningly against his lower lip, signaling that if Xu Jiu said another word, his mouth would be pulled.

Xu Jiu immediately sealed his lips obediently, silently indicating he wouldn’t make another sound.

The next morning, Xu Jiu found himself wearing a thick cotton coat and had been moved from the cold, hard corner to the bed. Although his hands were still bound behind his back and the tight collar around his neck remained, his living conditions had improved significantly.

It had to be said—acting cute really worked.

Not long after, Xu Jiu heard the door open.

Brother, I’m awake.

Mm, the other replied.

I’m a bit hungry, Xu Jiu added.

The other ignored him, stopping somewhere in the room. The sounds of pouring water and preparing medication followed shortly. Soon, pills were forced between Xu Jiu’s teeth and into his mouth, and his chin was gripped as warm water was poured in.

Bleh, bleh, bleh! So bitter! Xu Jiu’s face twisted into a grimace.

But quickly, he changed his expression, grinning obsequiously. Seriously, brother, you’re so good at taking care of people. I really wish you could keep looking after me forever.

The other responded with action, using disposable chopsticks to bring steaming noodles to Xu Jiu’s mouth.

As usual, Xu Jiu tentatively licked the noodles a couple of times with his tongue, confirming they were safe before swallowing.

Brother, have you eaten? Are you hungry?

The other paid no attention, and Xu Jiu continued to praise him with every bite.

None of these words were sincere; every ingratiating phrase that came from Xu Jiu’s mouth was a lie.

It was all just to stay alive.

Repeat it enough times, and maybe one day the kidnapper would be foolish enough to believe him, treating him like a friend and letting his guard down.

After feeding him the noodles, the other left. The iron door opened and closed, leaving Xu Jiu alone in the corner of the bed.

The room was eerily quiet, as if sealed in a vacuum where oxygen was slowly being compressed. The darkness around him felt like a collapsing cave, silently closing in on him.

No sound could be heard, not even the passage of air—everything seemed frozen solid.

Xu Jiu began talking to himself to relieve the psychological pressure, but it had little effect.

The boundless darkness before him rose like encroaching water. Xu Jiu was the person tied in the middle of the pool, forced to watch as the colorless, odorless Black Tide submerged his limbs and torso, until only his ears and nose remained above the surface.

His mind grew increasingly tense; the intense loneliness was nearly consuming him.

Xu Jiu shifted on the bed, burrowed under the covers, and inhaled deeply, searching for the scent left by his captor.

They slept together at night.

Fortunately, he detected the unfamiliar fragrances of shampoo and body wash, which at least provided some foundation to the desolation in his heart.

His hollowed body was buoyed by these scents, no longer allowing loneliness to plunge endlessly downward.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the iron door opened and closed with two heavy thuds.

Brother, you’re finally back! Xu Jiu immediately emerged from under the covers, his fluffy head poking out. Unable to discern the direction, he let out a long sigh toward the ceiling.

Mm.

After this brief reply came the sounds of the other person changing clothes and shoes.

Then, a warm meat bun was placed against Xu Jiu’s lips.

Xu Jiu obediently ate it without uttering a single unnecessary word.

Brother, are you going out again?

Mm.

Xu Jiu nibbled on the bun. Can you not go? I’m a bit bored.

The other person fell silent.

Brother, how about untying me? I won’t run away. I just think it’s troublesome for you to feed me every day. I can eat by myself—I don’t want to trouble you.

The other paid him no mind. After Xu Jiu finished eating, the man hurried out again.

Then, several hours later, he would return with two meat buns or a bowl of noodles, feeding Xu Jiu by hand.

Afterward, he would help Xu Jiu wash up, and they would sleep together.

Days passed like this one after another. Xu Jiu had no idea how long he had been imprisoned here. His only daily pastime was hiding under the covers, counting the time, waiting for his captor to return and feed him.

Every night they slept close together. During these moments, Xu Jiu could speak a few more words—mostly nonsense. The other might respond with a single mm out of ten sentences, or might not acknowledge him at all.

After speaking, Xu Jiu would contentedly fall asleep, waiting for the cycle to repeat the next day.

The national college student legal document competition finals in City B start tomorrow. Why aren’t you anxious yet? Cao Weidong’s professor stopped him on campus, urging him.

Cao Weidong halted his steps. I have a train ticket for tonight.

Remember to keep the receipt for reimbursement later. The professor patted his shoulder and handed him an envelope. The school investigated the scholarship situation. This is compensation.

Thank you. Cao Weidong checked that the envelope was stamped with the school’s official seal before safely pocketing it. Without further pleasantries, he bid farewell, clearly eager to leave—his body present but his mind already elsewhere.

What’s the rush? his professor asked.

Cao Weidong paused, lowered his gaze in thought, and replied, Going back.

Ah, going home! Well then, go ahead. Travel safely.

Clutching the envelope, Cao Weidong privately pondered the word home for a long while.

He looked down and opened the envelope—inside was one thousand yuan.

On his way home, he changed direction and went to buy an induction cooker, two bowls, a pack of noodles, and a carton of eggs.

As soon as he opened the door, Xu Jiu’s voice emerged from under the blankets, warm like the person himself.

Brother! You’re back!

Xu Jiu’s welcoming cries grew more fervent with each passing day. The loneliness accumulated day and night in the darkness had long blurred the line between sincerity and pretense in his fawning over Brother.

Mhm.

Xu Jiu’s tongue instinctively darted out, swiping across the corner of his lips, but he tasted nothing.

What are we eating today? Xu Jiu asked impatiently.

Cao Weidong wasn’t in a hurry to reply. He found a spot to set up the induction cooker, washed and heated the pot, then added the purchased noodles and eggs. After boiling them for seven minutes, he transferred everything into bowls.

He’d forgotten to buy salt, Cao Weidong belatedly remembered.

But Xu Jiu was already eating eagerly. After finishing, he furrowed his brows and strained to praise extravagantly: Brother, your cooking is really good!

Whether it actually tasted good or not was unclear, but Xu Jiu finished it without changing his expression.

Cao Weidong had low standards for food, so he simply ate his bowl of noodles.

Not tasty.

Cao Weidong gave a simple evaluation of his own cooking.

Need to learn.

Cao Weidong had found a new life goal.

After the meal, while Cao Weidong was cleaning the pots and bowls, Xu Jiu lay on the bed with his legs crossed, chattering incessantly.

Later, Cao Weidong lay down beside him.

Cao Weidong listened quietly.

Xu Jiu talked until he grew tired and drowsily fell asleep on his own. He hadn’t expected responses anyway—just having someone there to listen was enough.

Seeing Xu Jiu asleep, Cao Weidong fetched pen and paper to meticulously write down the noodle cooking instructions. Then he untied the restraints from Xu Jiu’s wrists and detached the chain from the collar.

Xu Jiu was completely free, with only the collar remaining around his neck.

Cao Weidong leaned close to Xu Jiu’s ear and whispered: Eat properly. I’ll be away for two days.

Xu Jiu rubbed his ear, still muddled with sleep, and grumbled several vague affirmations, swatting at Cao Weidong’s voice as if it were a fly. He hadn’t registered a single word.

After completing his tasks, Cao Weidong turned off the light, closed the door, and left.

The sudden sound of the door opening and closing startled Xu Jiu awake, his heart pounding in panic.

The other had never gone out at night before. This sudden, unexplained departure was like a straight line abruptly warping without warning.

Like a train derailing, it crashed violently into Xu Jiu’s chest.

Xu Jiu mentally reviewed everything he’d done that evening, searching for what mistake might have upset the other.

Xu Jiu didn’t sleep all night. Intense palpitations kept him tossing and turning in bed, his thoughts completely occupied by that unnamed person.

He never noticed he’d regained his freedom—that the cloth over his eyes could be removed anytime he wished.

Xu Jiu didn’t know how long he lay there until his head grew heavy and his eyelids drooped, finally succumbing to unwilling sleep.

He thought that if he just slept, the other would surely return by the time he woke.

When he awoke, Xu Jiu lay in bed and asked in a trembling voice: Are… are you here?

No one answered.

A nameless fear surged in Xu Jiu’s heart, dragging his hard-won stabilized emotions back to when he first opened his eyes in this place.

Fear, panic, confusion, loneliness.

All the negative emotions, like light-seeking mosquitoes, frantically and fervently swarmed and seeped into Xu Jiu’s heart.

It was under such extreme emotions that Xu Jiu suddenly began struggling with his hands and feet.

This struggle sent him rolling onto the floor along with the pillow.

Hey?! I actually broke free!

Xu Jiu tore off the blindfold from his eyes. The room was pitch black, making all the surveillance cameras on the ceiling with their red lights glaringly conspicuous.

Without hesitation, Xu Jiu flipped off the black viewfinder of the surveillance camera and cursed, You bastard!

He knew the other person must be watching him from the other side of the camera, staring right back at him.

You bastard! Don’t let me find out who you are, or I’ll kill you! I’ll break your limbs and throw you into a cesspit to feed the maggots!

Xu Jiu felt along the wall for the light switch. Under the dim yellow light, he smashed everything in the room in a frenzy, deliberately leaving the surveillance camera untouched.

His previous obedience vanished in the blink of an eye, replaced by defiance. With his hands on his hips, he spewed foul language incessantly, venting all the grievances he had endured while playing nice over the past few days.

There weren’t many things in the room to begin with, and he could only destroy so much. So, he broke off a table leg and rushed toward the iron door.

With a loud bang.

The table leg snapped, hitting the center of the iron door and leaving a deep dent.

Click—

As if on cue, at the same time, the crisp sound of a key turning in the lock came from outside the door.

Before Xu Jiu could react, the door was pushed open the next second.

The person outside walked in, their slanted shadow enveloping Xu Jiu like an impenetrable prison cage.