Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 35: No Hatred, Only Love

Chapter 35: No Hatred, Only Love

Cao Weidong’s first reaction upon seeing Xu Jiu was to pull the quilt back over him, then turn and leave.

Cold air rushed beneath the covers.

Xu Jiu jolted awake from his sleep, but still drowsy, he could vaguely make out Cao Weidong’s figure.

After rubbing his eyes several times, when he was certain Cao Weidong had truly appeared before him, he froze for nearly half a minute before snapping out of it.

He thought he was still dreaming. The pillow beneath his head was saturated with Cao Weidong’s scent, and even in his dream, he’d faintly felt he’d returned to the warehouse.

He and Cao Weidong were still squeezed together on that narrow mattress, nearly stacked atop one another, breathing in only each other’s presence, exchanging breaths in the hazy darkness.

The sound of Cao Weidong’s departing footsteps called Xu Jiu’s soul back to reality.

If he didn’t stop him now, Cao Weidong would vanish again without a trace.

Xu Jiu scrambled out from under the quilt, grabbing the pillow he’d been leaning against and hurling it at Cao Weidong’s back.

The pillow was soft and harmless, having no effect on Cao Weidong whatsoever—he didn’t even slow his pace.

Growing desperate, Xu Jiu frantically emptied his pockets: a cigarette case, a phone, and a wallet with no money—everything he owned.

He couldn’t bear to throw the cigarette case or the phone, so the wallet went flying, landing on the floor before it could even reach Cao Weidong.

Clutching the edge of the bed, Xu Jiu watched helplessly as Cao Weidong pulled open the dormitory door, halfway out of the room.

What are you leaving for?!

The next second, a hard object struck Cao Weidong’s back with a cold, sharp thud before clattering to the ground.

Cao Weidong looked down—it was Xu Jiu’s phone, its screen shattered beyond recognition.

In his desperation to move Cao Weidong, Xu Jiu had thrown caution to the wind. Penniless yet willing to sacrifice his only valuable possession, he had now destroyed everything he owned right before Cao Weidong’s eyes.

Cao Weidong glanced back at Xu Jiu.

Xu Jiu met his gaze defiantly.

Their reunion unexpectedly mirrored their first encounter with striking clarity.

One walking away without looking back, the other throwing whatever was at hand.

The one being hit remained unaffected, while the thrower was the first to lose his composure.

Sitting on the bed, Xu Jiu took out the lighter from his cigarette case, shook out a cigarette, and held it between two fingers. As he bent to light it, he mumbled around the cigarette, Go ahead, leave. I’ll smash everything here once you’re gone.

Cao Weidong retracted the foot he’d stepped out with and turned to watch Xu Jiu light his cigarette, deliberately reminding him, Don’t break the wrong things.

Hunched on his bed, Xu Jiu’s back and waist curved into a smooth C-shape, unknowingly revealing a pale sliver of his lower back that immediately turned bloodless white in the cold.

Xu Jiu lowered his head, then tilted it sideways, exposing only half his face to Cao Weidong’s view.

With a click, the blazing flame tinted the visible half of Xu Jiu’s face crimson, his thumb on the lighter turning equally red. His knuckles protruded sharply, forming triangular hollows on the radial side of his wrist and hand that tapered toward his thumb.

The cigarette was slender, Xu Jiu’s wrist equally delicate—both so fragile they seemed they might snap with a single squeeze.

Cao Weidong observed with extraordinary meticulousness, like a carving knife meticulously shaving away at Xu Jiu’s flesh stroke by stroke.

He made no attempt to conceal it—or perhaps he was incapable of hiding its sharpness.

He even forgot his intention to leave.

It wasn’t until Xu Jiu took a drag of his cigarette, veiling everything about himself in smoke, that Cao Weidong was forced to lose sight of the details of Xu Jiu’s hand and the cigarette. Only then did he remember he needed to distance himself from Xu Jiu.

Cao Weidong, my name is Xu Jiu.

I know.

Xu Jiu hooked his pinky to pull the corner of his mouth upward, baring a sharp canine naturally. His laughter carried a tone of both warning and mockery as he deliberately enunciated: The ‘Jiu’ meaning entanglement.

You can’t escape it.

Mm. Cao Weidong picked up Xu Jiu’s phone and placed it back on the desk. Before leaving, he offered a final reminder: Don’t smash the wrong things. If you break someone else’s property, I can’t afford to compensate for it.

Slam—!

Cao Weidong closed the door and left.

Xu Jiu sat frozen on the bed, even the clothing caught in the dip of his waist slackly falling away, covering a pale stretch of skin.

He… he just left?

Xu Jiu’s cigarette-holding hand trembled. He scrubbed his face roughly with his other hand, his left hand attempting to tear off the blanket entirely. But in his flustered state, he ended up holding the cigarette with his left hand instead, leaving his right hand dangling uncertainly.

In his panic, Xu Jiu couldn’t quite discern whether he wanted to cling to Cao Weidong out of a villain’s mentality, or because he had nothing left in this world except Cao Weidong—whom he regarded as his mission target. All he knew was that he had to latch onto Cao Weidong, lest he lose his last connection to this world entirely.

Cao Weidong! Xu Jiu shouted at the top of his lungs.

He didn’t summon Cao Weidong—instead, his yell shook a segment of ash from his cigarette, burning a charred, rotten hole into the bedsheet.

Xu Jiu glanced down, then vengefully ground the cigarette butt into the sheet until it burned completely through the blanket before releasing it.

He had barely smoked that cigarette—most of it had been smoked by Cao Weidong’s blanket.

Without even properly wearing his clothes, let alone shoes, Xu Jiu rushed out in a hurry.

To his surprise, when he opened the door, Cao Weidong was right outside.

Cao Weidong hadn’t gone far. He stood in the dim corridor, beneath a safety exit sign glowing with an eerie, cold green light in the corner. Cao Weidong’s large frame absorbed what little light there was, his silhouette blurring into the deep darkness of the night.

A wisp of smoke drifted from between Cao Weidong’s fingers.

Belatedly, Xu Jiu realized Cao Weidong was smoking.

Xu Jiu walked slowly, still unaccustomed to his crutch. So Cao Weidong leaned against the corridor and watched him, motionless, his gaze fixed as Xu Jiu drew nearer, until both of them were submerged in the faint green glow beneath the corridor’s corner. Their outlines merged into one, coalescing into a blurred whole.

Xu Jiu, we’re even now.

Cao Weidong reminded him while simultaneously reaching out to grip Xu Jiu’s arm, acting as his crutch so he could stand more comfortably.

Thus, the cigarette shifted to his right hand—a trembling right hand from which ash fell uneasily, one flake after another.

Amidst the flickering embers of the quivering cigarette, Xu Jiu reached out and forcibly extinguished it with his bare hand. Enduring the searing pain on his fingertips, he gritted his teeth and let out a forced, contemptuous snort:

Even? Who’s even with you? Do you really think our relationship can be settled by trading a rotten foot for a rotten hand?

Does it hurt? Cao Weidong replied, answering a question with another question.

Xu Jiu’s gaze drifted upward, and their eyes happened to meet.

The curses simmering in his chest were instantly extinguished by that sudden remark, much like how Xu Jiu would snuff out a cigarette butt with his fingers—all burning emotions vanished in an instant, leaving only the cold, ashen residue veiling his heart like a fog.

Rubbing his fingertips, Xu Jiu immediately wiped the cooled, blackened tobacco residue onto Cao Weidong’s clothes and let out a bored hum: Hmm.

Cao Weidong’s hand came to rest over Xu Jiu’s on the crutch, his warm palm thawing the near-lifeless cold of Xu Jiu’s grip. Once his purpose was achieved, Cao Weidong withdrew his hand.

In the moment Cao Weidong pulled away, before the chill could reclaim him, Xu Jiu called out cheerfully to his retreating figure:

Go ahead, leave. Once you’re gone, I’ll buy a rope and hang myself right here. I’ll even leave a suicide note saying you kidnapped me—harming not just my body but my heart too.

Once again, those words successfully made Cao Weidong stay.

You have a heart?

Xu Jiu failed to grasp the ambiguous undertone in Cao Weidong’s words, interpreting it instead as an accusation that he was a heartless villain who only did wicked things. Raising an eyebrow defiantly, he retorted:

What’s it to you? Since when does spreading rumors require a conscience?

Cao Weidong paid him no mind, but by then he had already stepped beyond the reach of the green light, his figure swallowed by the dimness. It was clear he was watching Xu Jiu, though his expression remained unreadable.

Eager to ensure Cao Weidong didn’t miss his smug expression, Xu Jiu flicked a lighter and held the flame before his face. As he lit the fire, he also lit a cigarette, pinching it between two fingers and using them to point accusingly at Cao Weidong.

Even if I wrote in my suicide note that you kidnapped me and subjected me to inhuman rape every day, people would still defer to the dead. No one would care what really happened—especially since… you already have a history of animal abuse.

Truly, staying by Cao Weidong’s side was far more interesting. Like a disgusting barnacle clinging to him, Xu Jiu didn’t have to worry about where to go or where to return.

A rootless barnacle, once it finds a suitable host, need only drift along with the currents.

By the time the conversation reached this point, the creak of a door opening could be heard from the corridor. From within the darkness, that sound carried a voyeuristic malice—countless pairs of ill-intentioned eyes, elusive and eager, seeking some vulgar amusement in the dull darkness of this New Year’s Eve.

Cao Weidong tossed aside his cold cigarette, gripped Xu Jiu by the waist, and hoisted him over his shoulder.

Xu Jiu’s crutch clattered to the ground, leaving only a half-dangling cigarette clenched between his lips.

Cao Weidong shoved Xu Jiu back into the dormitory and shut the door, blocking out all the prying, malicious eyes in the hallway.

Seated on the desk, his injured foot resting limply on the chair, Xu Jiu tugged at his sleeve and pointed above Cao Weidong:

See, right there—perfect for threading a rope through.

Xu Jiu muttered to himself, but a black padded jacket was abruptly thrown over him. Then, Cao Weidong’s hands guided his wrists into the sleeves, one after the other, before zipping the jacket up from his waist all the way to his chin.

Cao Weidong meticulously tucked in every gap where the cold could seep through.

Xu Jiu paid no heed to Cao Weidong’s kindness, yet naturally accepted his care. With just a flicker of his eyes, the words that spilled from his lips remained laced with malice:

Go ahead and leave. If you do, I’ll write a blood letter and hang myself right here.

Xu Jiu took a drag from his cigarette, waiting for Cao Weidong’s response.

Cao Weidong would definitely speak.

And based on Xu Jiu’s rigid impression of Cao Weidong’s past remarks, he was absolutely certain the man would say something that would shock him to the core—words that would slice through his ears like a blade, sending a bloody, horrifying shudder from his feet to the top of his head.

Xu Jiu guessed he’d say something like If you die, I’ll just collect your corpse. So he tilted his head back, slightly parted his lips to inhale the trapped smoke, and let his tongue wantonly swirl the captive fumes within his mouth. Half-squinting, he waited for Cao Weidong’s knife-like words to fall upon his ears.

Cao Weidong was indeed like a blade—but not with his words. It was his hand.

It landed directly on Xu Jiu’s neck, the force in his palm wishing it could be like a knife hacking deep into Xu Jiu’s throat, until not even a sliver of space remained between his hand and the neck, leaving no room for air.

Immediately, Xu Jiu was yanked up by Cao Weidong as if plucking a radish, followed by a kiss—direct and unambiguous—landing on Xu Jiu’s lips.

There was no room for refusal or resistance. Cao Weidong’s tongue had already plunged inside, as forceful and terrifying as the hand gripping his neck, allowing Xu Jiu not even a fraction of struggle.

The bitter haze of tobacco smoke crashed recklessly between their lips, scattered and gathered by their entangled tongues, until the more dominant party seized and claimed it all.

Cao Weidong plundered every wisp of smoke from Xu Jiu’s lips into his own, pressing it deep against the root of his tongue, swallowing it down with measured restraint.

He had done this many times before, and this time was no different—executed with practiced ease.

When Cao Weidong pulled away, Xu Jiu’s body, now unsupported, curled forward again. One hand braced against the table, but it couldn’t stop his body from slumping weakly from lack of oxygen, his head bowing low and deep, only the cigarette clamped between his lips still emitting a rising trail of smoke.

Like a ghostly hand climbing upward, grasping at whatever it could, the smoke caught Cao Weidong’s gaze and clung to his eyes, refusing to dissipate.

Cao Weidong bent down, bowing his head in a posture both servile and pleading, his tone a blend of request, entreaty, and command as he kissed the dazed Xu Jiu over and over.

I won’t leave. Don’t die.

Xu Jiu jerked his head up. He seemed to have found something profoundly interesting, staring at Cao Weidong with keen interest, not blinking.

After a moment, he let out an emotionless, mocking laugh from his lips, then turned away to take another drag from his cigarette.

Xu Jiu felt he had vaguely touched upon something Cao Weidong still possessed, but… the moment he made contact, he chose to escape into the smoke.

Between him and Cao Weidong lay a deep, dark crevice. Within it lurked dangers like countless tentacles buried deep, ready to emerge. Xu Jiu didn’t dare peer inside; he could only seal the dark fissure shut and open his eyes to gaze into the darkness within Cao Weidong’s own.

Deliberately, Xu Jiu pressed the burning cigarette butt against Cao Weidong’s lips as he attempted to kiss him again. Unexpectedly, Cao Weidong didn’t retreat. Instead, he clamped down on the cigarette butt, holding it in his mouth until he had extinguished it with his bite, then seized Xu Jiu’s neck once more and delivered another kiss.

This kiss was more bitter than the last, for there truly was a scorching, disintegrating cigarette butt rolling in his mouth. Xu Jiu wanted to escape but couldn’t, so he followed Cao Weidong into being scorched until covered in wounds.

Xu Jiu had no choice but to use both hands to choke Cao Weidong’s neck, returning a choking kiss with a choking kiss. He choked until the veins on the back of his hands bulged, until his neck turned crimson, until the blood vessels in his eyes swelled violently, and his gaze became blurred and ambiguous.

Lips tore at lips, biting until flesh was mangled and bloody. The rusty taste in their mouths completely overwhelmed the bitterness of tobacco, so pungent it was as if they themselves were mad beasts, frantically and indiscriminately devouring the bones and blood of their own kind.

Cao Weidong spat out the cigarette butt, released Xu Jiu, and used his thumb to wipe the blood from the corner of Xu Jiu’s lips.

Xu Jiu spat a solid glob of saliva onto Cao Weidong’s face, pointing at him and sneering, Why didn’t you swallow it this time? Don’t you love eating my spit?

Hearing this, Cao Weidong bent down to pick it up.

Xu Jiu quickly pressed his good leg against Cao Weidong’s shoulder and kicked back, shouting Pervert! with disgust and force.

Cao Weidong wiped the blood away with a tissue. The fact that he and Xu Jiu could kiss so violently and bloodily was entirely Xu Jiu’s doing; he had merely tolerated Xu Jiu’s brutality.

Tolerance turned into indulgence, and Xu Jiu would grow increasingly unrestrained and unaware, making it seem as though the two were mutually assaulting each other.

Xu Jiu wasn’t injured; it was only Cao Weidong who was bleeding. He spat out the blood that had coated his tongue, then rinsed his mouth with water and spat it all out.

By the time Cao Weidong finished his simple ablutions, Xu Jiu had already dragged his injured leg onto the bed on his own, his bare foot without socks or shoes dangling off the edge.

Cao Weidong helped him put on his socks and tucked his feet under the blanket.

Hot. Xu Jiu had just finished smoking in one go, his chest burning as if on fire.

Cao Weidong turned off the light and got into bed, pushing Xu Jiu’s legs inward. Xu Jiu was squeezed with nowhere to go.

The school dormitory bed was only one meter wide, and with two men lying on it, they were pressed so close that their hearts seemed to beat against each other, separated only by a thin layer of skin and flesh.

After all the tossing and turning, half of Xu Jiu’s body ended up lying on top of Cao Weidong. Not to mention stretching his legs out, half of his body was trapped in Cao Weidong’s grasp.

Xu Jiu turned his face away. Don’t mess around.

Cao Weidong replied, Mm.

Xu Jiu soon fell asleep in Cao Weidong’s embrace. When he woke up, it was already noon the next day, and Cao Weidong had pushed the door open with a boxed meal in hand, waking him.

Before Xu Jiu could finish eating, Cao Weidong hurriedly prepared to go out again.

Where are you going? Take me with you.

Dragging his right foot, Xu Jiu struggled to catch up with Cao Weidong’s pace, his cotton coat slung loosely over his shoulders, forcing Cao Weidong to stop and zip it up tightly for him.

It’s cold outside, Cao Weidong reminded him.

Xu Jiu nodded. It’s fine.

Cao Weidong returned to the dorm to fetch the boxed meal, then took Xu Jiu on a bus to H City’s largest park. They rented a sausage grill from the park management office and set it up at the park entrance.

The park was bustling with people during the New Year, all waiting to set off fireworks together in the evening.

Xu Jiu didn’t eat his boxed meal, instead craving Cao Weidong’s grilled sausages. He stole one every time Cao Weidong grilled one, laughing boldly when caught, then continuing to steal and laugh again when caught again. Apart from sighing, Cao Weidong could do nothing about him.

Later, Xu Jiu developed a craving for the warm rice wine sold at the neighboring stall, escalating his mischief from stealing food to stealing money.

His hand would slip into Cao Weidong’s pockets, taking whatever he found, then he’d hobble around on his crutch to patronize every nearby vendor.

After spending the stolen money, Xu Jiu would return and steal again. Cao Weidong couldn’t bear to see such a handsome face marred by that sly, impoverished cunning, so he proactively gave him money. Holding Xu Jiu’s hand to warm it, he reminded him what was safe to eat and what wasn’t before letting go.

Xu Jiu paid no heed—if he ever actually listened to Cao Weidong, it would be a miracle.

As midnight approached, fireworks lit up the sky, and the crowd surged toward them like moths to a flame.

Knowing his bad leg made crowded places unsafe, Xu Jiu reluctantly returned to sit beside Cao Weidong.

The sky blazed bright, shimmering with colors—now red, now gold—swallowing the fervor of the entire heavens, burning brilliantly in their pupils.

Cao Weidong pulled a small, square cake from a bag, just enough for one person.

Spotting it, Xu Jiu pointed toward a direction. From that shop? It’s pretty good—didn’t think you liked cake.

As the clock struck twelve, Cao Weidong inserted a candle into the cake and offered it to Xu Jiu.

Expecting a Happy New Year, Xu Jiu preemptively spat out, Happy my ass, the moment Cao Weidong’s lips parted.

But to his surprise, Cao Weidong said—Happy Birthday.

Xu Jiu, happy birthday.

Xu Jiu froze, his sharp tongue suddenly useless, unable to form any cutting retort.

The only time he’d ever mentioned the date was while telling Cao Weidong his bank card PIN. He never imagined that single instance would be enough for Cao Weidong to remember his birthday.

Fireworks continued blooming overhead.

He and Cao Weidong had shared one New Year before—back when his leg was broken, forcibly tethered to Cao Weidong’s side, watching meaningless, lonely fireworks.

This second fireworks display was much the same—fireworks were still fireworks, cold winds layered upon cold winds.

Except now, an abrupt Happy Birthday had been added.

A day even Xu Jiu’s birth mother had forgotten, a day he himself would rather call Happy New Year.

Spoken by someone Xu Jiu wanted to hate, holding a cake with a lit candle, urging him to make a wish before the flame died.

It shouldn’t be like this.

Xu Jiu didn’t blow out the candle. Instead, he stared through its struggling, leaping flame at Cao Weidong, his expression complex.

Wronged, unwilling, yet not resentful.

All Xu Jiu could do was ask outright: Cao Weidong, do you hate me?

Cao Weidong didn’t answer.

The candle on the cake was extinguished by the cold wind, yet the fireworks in the sky raged on fiercely, their warm orange glow washing over their faces as if the candle between them still burned.

Around them, the crowd wore jubilant smiles, greeting strangers and friends alike with cheerful New Year’s wishes.

Xu Jiu mouthed Cao Weidong’s name again, rolling it over his lips before letting it out.

Cao Weidong.

Mm.

Cao Weidong responded like Siri on Xu Jiu’s phone—every call answered with an Mm.

Though his tone seemed devoid of emotion, each response was steadfast, and the sense of companionship seeped tangibly into Xu Jiu’s being.

Xu Jiu suddenly wanted to ask Cao Weidong another question, but he didn’t dare to hear the answer, so Xu Jiu didn’t dare to ask.

Xu Jiu.

It was Xu Jiu’s turn to respond. Mm.

Say it.

Cao Weidong’s voice felt like a breath blown into Xu Jiu’s ear—neither a command nor a rush, so calm that it brought Xu Jiu no pressure at all.

But Cao Weidong, as a person, carried an inherent magnetism in his every word and action, one that naturally drew Xu Jiu in.

Like a collar hanging around Xu Jiu’s neck—when not tightened, it resembled a necklace that accentuated his snow-white complexion. But the moment it tightened, Xu Jiu understood his master’s intent.

Under Cao Weidong’s deliberate or unintentional guidance, Xu Jiu, bewitched and confused, finally uttered four words that differed by just one character from Do you hate me? yet carried a completely opposite meaning.

These two phrases differed by only one word, but their meanings were worlds apart.

Yet when both sentiments manifested in Cao Weidong, they seemed to converge into one—mirror images, two sides of the same coin.

It was a tangled, indelible mess, like blood dripping into red lacquer: the red remained red. But the red of blood was born of pain, while the red lacquer was a cherished hue. Thus, love and hatred became indistinguishable.

Do you love me?