Chapter 10.1

One of the oddest things about Mammon’s prison was that hardly anyone ever received visitors, phone calls, or letters. For most inmates, the outside world felt like a distant illusion, a place that had long since abandoned them.

Yet now, standing beyond the barbed wire fence, was someone who shouldn’t exist.

Mo Zimu stared, almost unable to believe his eyes. Merlin, the person who had suddenly disappeared, been reported dead three years ago, and whose unclaimed body had been sent to a medical school for dissection, was now standing right in front of him.

Nothing seemed to have changed. No matter how much time had passed, he remained the same. His soft, jet-black hair framed a face that carried the same innocent and devoted gaze.

God always stays in the same place. The only difference is how far you stray from Him.

Merlin had once said this to him.

“Seven…” Merlin, dressed in his priest’s robe, looked him up and down through the wire fence. His eyes were filled with concern, though he restrained himself from showing it too much. “Are… are you doing okay?”

Mo Zimu’s fingers trembled slightly.

Standing behind Merlin was Rong Qing, wearing a camel-colored coat. Throughout the entire encounter, his gaze never once fell on Mo Zimu.

Mo Zimu didn’t know how to answer that question.

The only person who had ever cared for him without expecting anything in return was Merlin. But the price he had paid for that care was something he couldn’t even bear to recall, a cost that had stripped him of everything and left scars he could never erase.

He forced a smile. “Not bad.”

“I… I will help with your appeal!” Merlin said, his excitement causing him to stutter slightly.

Rong Qing stood quietly behind Merlin, placing a steady hand on his shoulder, as if he understood his emotions.

Seven was Merlin’s first convert, the one he had pinned nearly all his faith in an omnipotent God onto. Devotion to Seven became an extension of his devotion to the Lord.

Mo Zimu stared blankly at him, his gaze drifting to Merlin’s shoulder and the hand resting on it.

That same hand, the one that now offered comfort, was the very hand that had pushed him into hell.

Merlin continued gently, “No matter what happens, Seven, don’t lose hope. The Lord will watch over you.”

Mo Zimu replied coldly, “Lin Lin, I’ve never believed in your Lord, and He has never cared about me. I did try once, but look where it brought me. So please, don’t come here again. I don’t want to see you.”

He stood up and pushed the chair away, signaling the end of the conversation.

Merlin didn’t seem bothered by Mo Zimu’s coldness. He gripped the barbed wire and said softly, “Difficulties are temporary. I’ll do my best to get you transferred to a better prison so you can resume your studies as soon as possible.”

Mo Zimu looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to thank you for taking me in when I was in Austria. I don’t want to thank you for paying my expensive living and tuition fees. And I certainly don’t want to apologize… for the humiliation you suffered because I attracted predators from the bar. I never asked you of anything. But today, I’m asking you to stay away from me. You’ve already done that. Thank you. Now, keep doing it.”

“I… I… Seven, you know I never asked for your gratitude, and I don’t want your apology either.”

“Lin Lin… if I ever failed you, I’ve already paid the price for it. From now on, I just want you and your God to leave no trace in my life.” Mo Zimu turned and walked toward the exit, desperate to leave before he lost control.

“Seven, Seven…” Merlin followed the barbed wire to the other end, his speech unusually fluent. “I’ve always wanted to ask for your forgiveness. I left without saying goodbye because I was confused. After all my belongings were stolen at the hotel, I lost your contact information. I was overwhelmed, so I stayed in a church in Rome for several years.” He continued, “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that my sudden disappearance wasn’t because I was disappointed in you or wanted to abandon you. Seven, you know how important you are to me.”

Mo Zimu replied coldly, “Even if you really had died, your body would’ve been cut into pieces because when they called me, I truly told them I didn’t know who you were.”

Merlin let out a soft sigh and said gently, “I know, Seven. You just didn’t want to admit that you had been abandoned again. But I want you to know that I never wanted to abandon you.”

Suddenly, Mo Zimu shouted, “Open the door! Open the door!”

He pounded on the door desperately as Merlin called his name from behind the fence. A prison guard stormed in and scolded him, but when he caught sight of Rong Qing’s gaze, he hesitated.

For once, the guards at Mammon Prison didn’t reach for their batons.

Mo Zimu moved mechanically through the corridor, his mind spinning.

Because of Merlin, Rong Qing had pushed him down a road of no return, into a hell that ripped away his innocence without ever giving him a choice.

He had told himself he could forget. That if he ignored it long enough, the past would lose its grip on him. That if he just kept moving forward, the weight of it would fade.

But how could it not matter?

For so long, he believed that because he had no faith, God kept sending people into his life, only to take them away the moment he learned to cherish them.

Yet despite everything, for the first time, he chose to believe. He chose to trust. He chose to love.

But in the end, he was nothing more than a cruel joke in someone else’s emotional drama. A bitter sneer tugged at his lips, but it faded as quickly as it came. The road ahead blurred as if obscured by a curtain of rain. He blinked once, then again.

Was it raining?

He wasn’t paying attention when he bumped into Sticks. He tried to sidestep him, but Sticks blocked his way with a sinister smirk.

“Don’t forget whose bitch you are,” Sticks sneered. “The moment you see that pretty boy from the outside, you lose your damn mind. If Ivan finds out, he’ll fuck you so hard you won’t know which way is north, Maytag.”

Mo Zimu slowly lifted his gaze.

Sticks stared into his eyes, taken aback by the fury burning within them. Before he could react, Mo Zimu lunged at him, twisting his arm back with brutal force and pinning him to the ground.

Sticks was shocked but quickly retaliated, driving an elbow into Mo Zimu’s stomach. He flipped him over and pinned his arms down, gritting his teeth as he growled, “Damn it, if you weren’t the boss’s plaything, I’d have already fucked you senseless!”

Before he could gloat, Mo Zimu suddenly jerked his head up, smashing it hard against Sticks’ nose. Blood splattered instantly.

Sticks cursed, but before he could react, Mo Zimu lunged again, this time sinking his teeth deep into his neck.

Sticks’ eyes widened in shock. “You crazy fucker!” he howled.

Blood oozed between Mo Zimu’s clenched teeth. The sharp, metallic taste filled his mouth, but he didn’t let go.

Sticks screamed for help.

Hearing that the two were fighting, Ivan rushed over. When he saw the scene, he raised his hand and struck Mo Zimu on the back of the neck.

Darkness swallowed Mo Zimu’s vision as his body went limp, collapsing into Ivan’s arms.

Sticks scrambled away, clutching his bleeding throat, his face pale with fear.

—-

Rong Qing drank one glass after another.

When Merlin pushed open the door, a wave of alcohol filled the room. He walked over, opened a window, then approached Rong Qing.

“What are you looking at?”

“The blueprint for a villa on Coral Island,” Rong Qing replied.

Merlin glanced at the design. “It’s huge. Why does every room have electronic doors?”

Rong Qing set down his glass and smiled faintly. “Isn’t that good? Doesn’t it make it safer?”

“This doesn’t look like a home,” Merlin said with a frown, glancing at the blueprint. “This is a prison, Daniel. Are you planning to build one?”

He wrapped his arms around Rong Qing’s shoulder, and Rong Qing naturally leaned into him. “Maybe,” Rong Qing murmured. “Maybe I want to build a house that can imprison love.”

Merlin hummed softly.

“Do you understand, Lin Lin?”

“People are always caught between love and doubt,” Merlin said. “Lacking a sense of security… just like how, back then, I shouldn’t have doubted our relationship just because we lost contact. I shouldn’t have doubted my own faith.”

Rong Qing let out a bitter laugh. “At that time, I was struggling to pass the Cruz family’s trials. Either I’d survive with a name and status, or I’d die nameless and forgotten.”

“You made it through.”

“Lin Lin, I wish I could go back to the past, to our days in the orphanage, back to when we were innocent.”

“You’ve never told me much about that place. The Cruz family must value it if they made you prove yourself there.”

A smirk played at Rong Qing’s lips. He downed another glass of liquor before replying in an indifferent tone, “Just another boarding school.”

Clearly unwilling to continue the topic, he changed the subject. “Tell me, Lin Lin… have you ever thought about imprisoning love?”

“Love can’t be imprisoned,” Merlin chuckled. “You should let love be free.”

Rong Qing gazed at him, his lips curving into a subtle smile. “Like how I feel about you?”

Merlin ruffled his hair and asked, “Have you… fallen for someone else?”

“If I say yes, would it upset you?”

“The only power God gives people is the power to choose. I’ve chosen to stay with God.”

“Maybe so. I think… I think I love him. I do love him, Lin Lin.”

“Does he love you?”

“He did once, I suppose…” Rong Qing straightened up, then leaned back again. He reached for his glass, staring at the crimson wine before downing it in one gulp, bitterness filling his mouth.

He could quietly watch Merlin chase after what he wanted. Rong Qing believed that if he were capable of love, it would be in this form, letting Merlin do what made him happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own feelings.

But Seven… Seven was like a thorn lodged in his heart. He couldn’t move it without pain, yet he couldn’t bear to pull it out, because if he did, he felt as though he would die. He never believed it was love, only temptation, so he instinctively kept that thorn from digging any deeper. But when he saw Merlin again, he realized something. He could let him go, but he could never let Seven leave.

“Do you want to confess, Ah Qing?” Merlin asked gently.

“Not this time,” Rong Qing replied as he stood up, gazing at the moonlight outside. He downed the remaining wine in his glass.

Rong Qing never told Merlin that he had long since stopped confessing. Speaking his deepest secrets aloud… that was too unsafe.

To possess someone or to obtain something, prayer alone is never enough.

—–

“Awake yet? Hmm?” Ivan’s hand rubbed Mo Zimu’s nipple through the fabric of his shirt.

Mo Zimu took a deep breath and, despite his reluctance, opened his eyes. Ivan’s sharp, striking features were right in front of him, his silver-gray eyes gleaming coldly, almost mocking him.

“Do you want to curse me out or hit me?” Mo Zimu asked coldly.

Ivan smirked. “First, I’d like to praise you. You’ve got some impressive Jeet Kune Do skills.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“No, no. Bruce Lee said the essence of Jeet Kune Do is formlessness. You even used your mouth to scare the life out of Sticks. Truly impressive.”

Mo Zimu turned his head away.

Ivan chuckled. “Besides… did you cry?”

Mo Zimu’s gaze lowered slightly, refusing to answer. Ivan smiled and asked, “Are you an idiot?”

“…”

“Or just a fool?”

“…”

“Otherwise, why would you act like a pathetic, abandoned lover?”

“…”

“Seven, do you want to make love?”

“…”

“Then I’ll take that as a yes.”

“…”

“Seven, I’m unbuttoning your shirt now.”

“…”

“Seven, now I’m taking off your pants… and here go your boxers. See them?”

“…”

Ivan lowered his head, his tongue tracing over Mo Zimu’s nipple. Mo Zimu couldn’t suppress a gasp. Ivan’s hand wrapped around his erection, stroking him rhythmically. His teeth grazed Mo Zimu’s other nipple, sending a sharp jolt through him, a mix of pain and pleasure that made him want to cry out.

Outside, there were footsteps and countless ears straining to listen. This was a prison where privacy didn’t exist. Mo Zimu had to constantly remind himself of this. Yet Ivan seemed determined to make him forget that.

Whenever he tried to hold back his voice, Ivan’s touch grew more intense. His grip tightened, his strokes quickened, and he bit down on his nipple, hard enough to draw a strangled cry. Mo Zimu’s body tensed, his control shattering as he came into Ivan’s hand, his muffled moans echoing softly in the confined space.

“Bastard!” Mo Zimu shouted angrily, his face flushed red.

Ivan laughed and leaned close to his ear. “Baby, scream louder. I love hearing your moans.”

Mo Zimu turned his head away, closing his eyes and presenting an expression that practically said, Do as you please.

“Seven, I’m going in.”

“…”

“Seven?”

“Just get it over with already. Why all the useless talk?”

“Ah, but I suddenly feel like discussing philosophy with you. I think you’d appreciate a cultured approach. I’m trying to show that.”

“You want to talk philosophy while you’re inside me? Are you crazy?”

“Apologies, but I believe true refinement is innate, so it transcends situations.”

“…”

“Learning to love… that’s the real start of living. How’s that for philosophy?”

Mo Zimu closed his eyes briefly, exhaling heavily.

“Not impressed? I’ve got more. The meaning of making love starts with wanting to see your face, then your eyes, then your lips, and finally to touch all of you in the darkness and hold you tightly.” Ivan grinned.

“How about that? Did I move you?”

Mo Zimu suddenly turned and shoved him aside with force. Ivan, still completely naked, propped his head on his hand, watching as Mo Zimu put his clothes back on.

He sighed. “Hey, hey, a classic line like that didn’t move you?”

Mo Zimu zipped up his pants, barely containing his irritation, and shouted, “Stop plagiarizing and twisting other people’s poetry!”

Ivan chuckled at his retreating back. “Hey, hey… don’t be mad. I think my version is way better than Paris at Night.”

In Paris at Night, French poet Jacques Prévert wrote:

On the night I lit three matches,
First to see your face,
Next to see your eyes,
And last to see your lips.
The remaining darkness was for remembering all of you,
And holding you tight.