CTS 43

“Back to your room?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s have dinner together tonight.” Ji Mingxuan said it as a statement, the same tone he always used. Whether they were pretending to be lovers or had broken up, it was always up to him to decide.

But this time, Shen Mo didn’t follow his lead. “I’m going to paint tonight in my room. You know how it is. When inspiration hits, the worst thing is being interrupted.”

Ji Mingxuan nodded in understanding. “Then tomorrow.”

Shen Mo replied, “Alright, let’s talk tomorrow.”

He stood up and reached out to shake Ji Mingxuan’s hand. Ji Mingxuan hesitated for a moment before gently taking it.

In a quiet voice, Shen Mo said, “Thank you.”

Even he wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for.

He left in a hurry. Once back in the room, he didn’t paint at all. He simply opened the window and looked out at the sea. Time slipped by, and before he knew it, it was dusk. The sea was bathed in golden light, and the sunset at the edge of the cliff was breathtaking.

Ji Mingxuan didn’t come to disturb him. Instead, he had a server bring dinner and a tube of ointment for burns. Shen Mo noticed a small note next to the ointment. It listed how many times to apply it each day, written in Ji Mingxuan’s handwriting.

The last time he had seen Ji Mingxuan’s writing was when he found a gift from years ago. He had followed the address written on that note and arrived at the Jinxiu Villa, where he saw the study filled with paintings.

In that moment, Shen Mo knew for certain he had lost something important in the past.

After his breakup with Zhou Yang, he spent over half a year in a daze, unable to remember what had happened. He had wanted to ask Ji Mingxuan for the truth, but when he finally managed to get in touch, Ji Mingxuan refused to meet him. In the end, Shen Mo went to the hospital and, with the help of a psychologist, started to recall fragments of the past.

—

After hearing news about Zhou Yang that day, Shen Mo didn’t speak for three whole days. On the fourth day, Ji Mingxuan came to the hospital room to see him, and Shen Mo suddenly said, “I want to call Zhou Yang.”

Ji Mingxuan frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly, but still nodded. “Alright.”

Shen Mo was able to sit up in bed by then, though one hand was wrapped in gauze and the other was hooked to an IV, making it impossible for him to dial. Ji Mingxuan dialed the number for him.

Shen Mo was extremely calm and said only three sentences to Zhou Yang.

“It’s me.”

“Let’s break up.”

“There’s no reason. I just got tired.”

Then, ignoring Zhou Yang’s persistent questions on the other end of the line, Shen Mo calmly looked at Ji Mingxuan.

Ji Mingxuan understood and ended the call. He studied Shen Mo for a moment before asking, “You broke up with Zhou Yang that easily?”

Shen Mo glanced at his right hand and said, as if it had nothing to do with him, “They told me while torturing me that if I didn’t break up with Zhou Yang, my family would be next.”

Ji Mingxuan rubbed his brow and pulled a chair over to sit by the hospital bed. “The men who kidnapped you have already been caught. Once you’ve recovered a bit more, the police will come to take your statement.”

Shen Mo nodded and said, “Alright.” Then he asked, “That day… was it you who saved me, Mr. Ji?”

Ji Mingxuan paused for a few seconds before replying, “No. It was fortunate you called the police beforehand. They got there just in time.”

Shen Mo asked again, “Why did you pay for my expensive medical bills?”

“Zhou Yang and An’an are both gone. Think of it as a form of compensation.”

Shen Mo and Ji Mingxuan were strangers to begin with. After these few words, they had nothing left to say. Ji Mingxuan sat for a little while longer before leaving. After that, he sent his assistant to visit Shen Mo a few times, but he never came again himself.

A month later, Shen Mo was discharged from the hospital.

Aside from not being able to use his right hand freely, the rest of his injuries had faded into faint scars. But he started having nightmares every night.

In his dreams, he was running in the dark, the sound of footsteps behind him getting closer and closer. He kept dialing the same phone number, but all he ever got was a busy tone. No one ever answered. At last, a hand reached out from the darkness and grabbed his ankle, dragging him down into an endless hell.

Shen Mo jolted awake and called out, “Zhou Yang.”

The small rental room was empty, so quiet that he could hear the echo. It was the place he and Zhou Yang had decorated together, with traces of Zhou Yang everywhere, but he knew that man would never return.

Shen Mo started staying up all night. The moment he closed his eyes, it was as if he was back in that abandoned warehouse, calling Zhou Yang’s name over and over, but no one ever came to save him.

He had just found a job related to painting, but with his right hand crippled, that opportunity vanished. Luckily, he still had some bread and instant noodles at home to keep himself from starving. Every day, he stayed awake until he couldn’t hold on anymore. Then he’d pass out from exhaustion, only to wake and stare blankly out the window. Sunrises and sunsets held no meaning for him. He didn’t even know how much time had passed.

It felt like just a few days, or maybe it had been a lifetime.

That day, it had just rained. The skies cleared, and the air was unusually fresh. Shen Mo had just opened a bag of bread to eat when the doorbell rang. He hadn’t interacted with anyone in a long time, and his thoughts moved sluggishly. It took him a moment to react before getting up to open the door.

Outside stood a tall, lean man. The light behind him made his face hard to see, almost blurry and unreal.

But Shen Mo’s numb heart suddenly seemed to come alive again, pounding in his chest. He instinctively hid his right hand behind his back, as if afraid of scaring the person away, and very softly, almost inaudibly, called out, “Zhou Yang.”