TF01 102

It felt like someone had punched Ying Ming square in the head.

His whole scalp buzzed from the impact.

From the moment Shi Yi walked through the door, Ying Ming had known, deep down, what he was going to say. He had pretended not to see it, dragged things out as long as he could. But in the end, Shi Yi said it anyway.

He kept his eyes closed for a long time. Once he managed to collect himself, it felt like a fire had ignited in his chest and suddenly surged through his entire body. He was so furious, it made him laugh.

“I. Don’t. Agree.”

He ground out each word through clenched teeth. Then he opened his eyes and looked straight at Shi Yi, a cold smile curling at the corners of his mouth, so cold it carried a hint of cruelty. “You want to break up? I don’t agree.”

Ying Ming shoved the cigarette back into his mouth, but he didn’t smoke it. He just clenched it between his teeth, like it was the only thing keeping him from snapping completely. His eyes were fixed on Shi Yi, who clearly hadn’t expected that reaction. Ying Ming’s whole body was brimming with a dangerous tension, the kind that signaled something was about to explode.

Shi Yi had never seen him like this before.

He frowned and tried to say something, but his throat was so dry he couldn’t force out a single word.

Ying Ming stood up, reached out, grabbed Shi Yi by the arm, and with a force like he’d lost his mind, threw him to the floor. Smoke Ring yelped and jumped back in fright. Ying Ming stared down at him from above, his gaze completely unhinged.

“Your dad dies, so you shut down the company, and now you want to break up with me? Who the fuck are you trying to impress with this act? Huh? Self-punishment? Self-redemption? You think if you do all this, your dad’s going to come back?”

He crouched down as he spoke, grabbed Shi Yi by the collar, and yanked him up hard. The sudden pull made Shi Yi choke slightly, and he let out a pained cough as he reached up and grabbed at Ying Ming. “Ying Ming…”

“Ou Yang wasn’t wrong about you. Look at yourself. Do you even look like a man right now?”

Ying Ming’s grip tightened as Shi Yi grabbed his wrist, as if he was trying to haul him up off the ground by sheer force. But the position was too painful. Shi Yi could barely breathe. Ying Ming didn’t care at all about how pale and strained his face looked.

“Do you remember what I said to you back then? Do you remember how you answered me? Shi Yi, when you said those words just now, do you know why I didn’t agree?”

Ying Ming’s head was spinning, so hard it made him nauseous.

Seeing Shi Yi gasping for breath, barely hanging on, made him feel like he was suffocating too. His chest felt crushed under something unbearably heavy, with no space left to breathe. His voice came out hoarse, each word shaking slightly. He kept demanding answers, over and over again, until the questions turned into a near roar.

“Fuck! You want to know why I didn’t agree? Because looking at the way you are right now makes me fucking furious! What good does this do, huh? Tell me, Shi Yi. Does playing dead like this do anything? You think your dad wanted to see you like this? You shut down the company. You break up with me. You threw away everything you’ve stood for the past twenty-plus years. Who the hell are you doing this for? If you really think all of this is wrong now, then what the hell was everything before that for?”

He yanked Shi Yi back down to the ground and tore open his shirt.

There was nothing sexual about it. It was pure, unrestrained fury. Ying Ming pinned him down and grabbed his face, kissing him hard. After more than a week of mental torment, their lips were so dry they were peeling. The moment their mouths met, it tasted of blood. That metallic tang awakened something dark and buried, something cruel deep in Ying Ming’s body.

Shi Yi only snapped back to himself when the taste of blood hit. He shoved Ying Ming away with sudden force. “Ying Ming!”

“Don’t fucking say my name!”

Ying Ming’s growl came out like a snarl, burning with rage. “You want to sacrifice your career, your dreams? Fine. That’s your business. I’m not going to stop you. I don’t even care. But you want to use this relationship as part of that sacrifice, what the hell do you take me for?”

He ripped open Shi Yi’s belt. The strength behind it was almost inhuman. Shi Yi reacted instinctively, grabbing at his wrist. The two of them ended up struggling, tangled together in a full-blown fight. Everything was spiraling out of control. But Ying Ming didn’t stop.

“You’ve got parents and I don’t? I’m an only child too, you know that? You think your guilt is special? That your pain matters more? I haven’t even dared to pick up the phone from my mom and dad since all this started, do you know that? You think you’re the only one with remorse, the only one with regret? You think you’re so fucking noble, Shi Yi? Fucking tell me. Have you ever thought about anyone else besides yourself?”

Ying Ming slammed a fist into Shi Yi’s face, his teeth clenched, voice laced with a chilling laugh. “You regret it? What the fuck is that supposed to fix? I told you to go home more often. Did you? I told you to sit down and talk to your parents. Did you? Always acting like you’ve got your shit together, but when it really mattered, you folded like a coward. Shi Yi, even if you dropped dead right now, it wouldn’t bring your father back. Do you get that? This guilt, you’re going to carry it for the rest of your life. And I will too. Do you know what regret really is? It’s something that rots in you for a lifetime. It’s closing your eyes and seeing your father’s face. It’s knowing that everything that happened was because of you. Do you get that?!”

He kept swinging, again and again. It didn’t matter if the blows actually landed. Ying Ming’s vision had blurred completely. The dull ache in his chest had grown into a blinding rage. Punching was the only thing he could think to do, the only way to stay upright.

“And after that, you still have to face me. You’ll still have to remember exactly how this all came to be. You don’t even get to run!”

That last sentence broke something in Shi Yi.

He finally snapped. With a furious shout, he shoved Ying Ming off him. Ying Ming crashed hard into the dining table. Bowls, chopsticks, and the flower vase shattered across the floor, shards flying everywhere. The back of Ying Ming’s head slammed against the table’s edge. One of his older wounds split open again, and blood smeared along the table leg. The air was thick with the stench of madness and violence.

Shi Yi staggered to his feet, pointing at him with a trembling hand. “Shut the fuck up! You hear me? Shut up!”

Ying Ming laughed from where he lay sprawled on the floor, expression full of scorn. “And who the fuck do you think you are?”

He wiped the blood off his forehead. “You can’t even handle what I’m saying, how the hell are you going to survive the next forty years? What’s your plan, Shi Yi? What the fuck are you going to do?”

Using the edge of the table for support, Ying Ming got up and lunged at him. The two of them fell into another fight, limbs colliding without restraint. Shi Yi had clearly hit his breaking point. He could see the injuries on Ying Ming’s body, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. There was no control left, no restraint. Every punch, every shove, every hit was just them tearing each other apart. And with every blow, the pain inside only grew louder.

Furniture toppled around them. The room was a wreck.

Shi Yi had barely eaten all week. He had spent the days watching his mother cry, the grief gnawing at him like he’d been shoved into a blender. His whole world was a blur. When Ying Ming called, he saw it, but didn’t pick up. He couldn’t. Eventually he just turned the phone off. He didn’t know how to face Ying Ming, because thinking about him meant remembering everything that had led to this point. And in the end, all those memories led back to a single image: the black-and-white portrait of his father at the funeral altar. Stark. Colorless. Lifeless.

That feeling was beyond agony. It was enough to make him want to die.

When Ying Ming said he did not agree, it hit Shi Yi like a second funeral. The grief he thought had been locked away came rushing back. His eyes, dry since the memorial, began to sting with a sharp, sour ache.

Ying Ming had Shi Yi pinned to the floor by the neck. Blood dotted both their bodies in deep, dark smears. He was using all his strength to hold Shi Yi down. With a twisted smile full of fury, he yanked Shi Yi’s pants down and growled into his ear, “You want to break up? I don’t agree. Do you hear me? I don’t agree.”

Shi Yi’s body trembled at those words. He clenched his jaw, trying to stop Ying Ming from repeating them.

But the man behind him didn’t care in the slightest.

Holding Shi Yi down with one hand, Ying Ming reached with the other to unfasten his own pants. He forced himself erect, jerking at himself roughly. The pain barely registered. What rose in him was not lust, but something darker. Something that twisted behind his ribs and clawed its way into every nerve.

It was not about lust. It was about punishing.

The deeper his own pain ran, the more he wanted Shi Yi to feel it too.

He wanted to push everything back onto him. The pressure. The guilt. The helplessness. He wanted to break him open and leave nothing untouched. His mind was blank. All he could see was this man in front of him, and the need to destroy something.

Shi Yi froze the moment he felt what was pressing against him. His entire body locked up. When he realized what Ying Ming was about to do, panic exploded in his chest. He began thrashing wildly, trying to kick, trying to throw him off.

But Ying Ming did not stop.

He forced his hips forward, jamming himself against Shi Yi’s entrance. The pain of tearing skin hit like a lightning bolt, sharp enough to make Shi Yi cry out. It pushed him past his threshold. With every bit of strength he had left, he tore himself free and slammed a foot into Ying Ming’s stomach.

The blow knocked Ying Ming to the floor. He dropped to his knees, doubled over, and began to retch, his face pale and slick with cold sweat.

The sound of dry heaving filled the room, then faded into silence.

Even breathing seemed to stop.

Ying Ming’s face was soaked. Something dripped from his chin. He did not know if it was blood or sweat. He gagged again, but nothing came out. When the nausea finally passed, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, lifted his head, and gave Shi Yi a crooked smile.

Shi Yi felt hollow. Emptied out from the inside.

All his strength vanished in an instant. He stared, dazed, as Ying Ming pulled himself upright, still holding his stomach, and slowly made his way to the door. Before leaving, he grabbed the keys from the coffee table and locked the door behind him.

From the other side of the door, Shi Yi heard his voice.

“Shi Yi. Be a man and carry it. No matter how bad it gets, we carry it together.”

The door was locked, but Shi Yi knew Ying Ming was still standing just outside.

He stared at the closed door like he was possessed, unable to look away. His thoughts cracked apart, and what burst out of him was a scream so full of pain he couldn’t contain it. At first, it was confusion. Then disbelief. Then a fury he didn’t know how to name. And finally, the tears started to fall again.

The ache in his chest was worse than it had been in the funeral hall.

He clutched his chest tightly, dropped to his knees, and screamed Ying Ming’s name over and over.

It came out in broken sobs. Then it turned into a roar. Then, eventually, it collapsed into hoarse, wordless weeping.

Outside the door, Ying Ming leaned against the frame. His hands were shaking as he pulled out the crushed pack of cigarettes. It took him several tries to get one lit. When the flame finally caught, he brought it to his mouth and took a drag.

He closed his eyes.

He felt completely drained.

Inside the apartment, the sound of Shi Yi’s crying bled through the seams of the door and slipped into his ears. He stood there quietly, just listening. Every time Shi Yi called his name, he echoed it silently in his heart. It was like casting a spell. He knew Shi Yi could not hear him, but he whispered it back again and again, like a man driven mad.

The sun at noon should have been blazing, but when it touched his skin, it felt bitter cold.

This day—

It stretched on endlessly, like it would never come to an end.