Chapter 41 – Don’t Make Me Hate You

What followed for Jiang Ruo was an even longer, more profound silence.

Xi Yufeng’s expression was nearly blank, as if he had heard some obscure, incomprehensible language.

But the subconscious reaction could not lie; Jiang Ruo did not see even a hint of surprise in his eyes, proving that he wasn’t completely unaware of the matter at hand.

The extent of Jiang Ruo’s feelings for Xi Yufeng far exceeded reasonable bounds.

Yet, understanding and hearing it firsthand were two vastly different experiences.

Xi Yufeng’s thin lips were tightly pressed together, his gaze on Jiang Ruo becoming murky, harboring something indecipherable.

After a long moment, he finally spoke: “There’s no such thing as absolute fairness in this world.”

“I know,” Jiang Ruo took a deep breath, suppressing the tears welling up, “but she can’t tolerate me, just as I can’t tolerate her.”

“The thing I want, you can’t provide.”

Having said this much, Jiang Ruo felt utterly drained, as if all his strength had been sapped away.

Indeed, he was emptied out. He had laid bare his heart before Xi Yufeng, revealing the words that should have remained hidden and unspoken forever. He admitted that, besides the impulse, there had been a glimmer of hope — a pitiful, shameful, perhaps reciprocated hope.

People shouldn’t harbor hope despite the odds, Jiang Ruo thought. Now, he had lost his last shred of dignity. Xi Yufeng’s calm, almost cold-blooded response was the ultimate retribution.

The silence continued, yet Jiang Ruo could no longer wait.

With the last of his strength, he said, “Let me go.”

At this, Xi Yufeng felt a sense of defiance and offense. He stepped forward, blocking Jiang Ruo’s path. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Anywhere, as long as it’s not here.”

“I’ll find you another place to stay.”

“No.”

“What do you want then?”

Xi Yufeng felt frustrated, as if being manipulated and coerced. He had never backed down so much for anyone.

But Jiang Ruo was always so oblivious, never learning his lesson, always capable of infuriating him further.

Jiang Ruo looked at him, his eyes so calm that it seemed after uttering that word, his heart had died along with it.

“I want to leave you,” he said, “go somewhere where I won’t see you again.”

Soon, Xi Yufeng would realize that the tightening sensation in his chest at that moment was called fear.

But at that instant, he only felt anger rise within him, a sense of betrayal igniting his fury. His brain automatically bypassed rational analysis, and his body acted first. He reached out and grabbed Jiang Ruo’s wrist.

“No,” Xi Yufeng said in an unyielding tone, “I won’t allow it.”

Perhaps not expecting such a reaction from Xi Yufeng, Jiang Ruo was momentarily stunned. “But we agreed that once you enter into a marital relationship with someone else, the agreement becomes void.”

“Void?” Xi Yufeng let out a faint scoff, “Don’t you know that clauses without a seal are invalid?”

Jiang Ruo’s mind exploded with realization. He opened his mouth, but for a long while, no words came out.

His captured hand couldn’t break free either. The harder he tried to pull back, the tighter Xi Yufeng’s grip became. Jiang Ruo felt his already sunken heart being submerged in ice water, growing colder bit by bit.

“Why?” he heard himself ask, “Didn’t you say you didn’t want me to get hurt? Why won’t you let me go?”

“It was an accident last time,” Xi Yufeng replied, “I won’t let you encounter danger again.”

Jiang Ruo shook his head. “Just let me go, let me go. You don’t need to — ”

The words “don’t need” made Xi Yufeng’s eyes darken abruptly. His face and voice were equally cold. “I gave you opportunities to act, made you famous. After using me, you don’t need me anymore, and want to run away?”

Jiang Ruo thought nothing could hurt more than baring his heart. Yet, Xi Yufeng’s word “use” struck him like a blow to the face, reminding him of his place and telling him how insignificant sincerity was in their relationship.

The last lingering warmth dissipated completely. Defeated, Jiang Ruo ceased struggling. “What do you want? What do I need to do for you to let me go?”

The situation shifted subtly. With every mention of “go,” Xi Yufeng felt a growing sense of impending loss.

He was like a man walking in the dark, wildly flailing his hands in the air. His hands were cut by countless wounds from branches on either side of the road, yet he still grasped at nothing.

He didn’t even know what he wanted to catch.

Only the inexplicable rage escalated, eventually consuming all traces of reason.

Xi Yufeng heard himself say, “Lick me, make me happy, then you can go.”

As men, Jiang Ruo couldn’t possibly misunderstand the meaning of “lick.” During moments of passion, he had entertained the idea of doing this for Xi Yufeng, but it was Xi Yufeng who refused.

Though he didn’t explicitly state the reason at the time, Jiang Ruo knew he considered it demeaning — a one-sided act of pleasing someone. He didn’t want Jiang Ruo to suffer.

And being willing versus being ordered were two entirely different matters.

Jiang Ruo’s face turned ashen. The immense humiliation slowed his movements as he crouched down. By the time his line of sight aligned with Xi Yufeng’s waist, his wrist was seized once more.

This time, Xi Yufeng pulled Jiang Ruo up from the ground and dragged him outside.

When he was thrown onto the large bed in the master bedroom, Jiang Ruo felt as if his bones had shattered.

Xi Yufeng soon pressed down upon him, hovering over his body. His expression was severe, his voice low and almost menacing. “So eager to leave?”

A tear squeezed out from the corner of Jiang Ruo’s eye. He nodded laboriously under the forceful restraint. “I want to leave, let me… go.”

In response, he received Xi Yufeng’s brutal actions.

First, his coat was torn open and tossed to the floor below. The sweater underneath was difficult to remove, so it was simply ripped apart, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the air. His upper body was left completely exposed to the coolness of the air.

Next came the pants. Jiang Ruo reached out to push Xi Yufeng away, but his wrists were caught by one of Xi Yufeng’s hands and held above his head.

“Don’t you like climbing into rich people’s beds?” Xi Yufeng asked him, “Who are you pretending for now?”

The disparity in strength left Jiang Ruo immobilized. He could only turn his face away, close his eyes, accepting this as the retribution for his greed.

How could their beginning, so filthy and disgraceful, lead to anything else?

But Xi Yufeng wouldn’t let him off the hook. He forcefully gripped his chin and forced him to turn his head.

“When Zhang Shaoyuan was fucking you, did you have the same expression?” Xi Yufeng returned to his lofty pedestal, looking down at Jiang Ruo from above. “Or is it that I haven’t given you enough?”

Later, Jiang Ruo understood that Xi Yufeng’s anger stemmed from his disobedience, from repeatedly challenging the limits of his dominance as the superior party.

Xi Yufeng was still the tyrant who etched his dominance into his very bones. Even if their relationship had reached its end, it should be under his control, declared terminated by him.

Facing down, Jiang Ruo was pressed into the pillow, enduring wave after wave of impact. He gasped in pain, his breaths coming in fits and starts. He didn’t expect to have the strength to provoke.

“Mr. Xi, you have such refined tastes. For a whore who can be bought with money, forcing yourself on him without fear of being ridiculed if word gets out.”

Unfortunately, this level of provocation was merely a mild irritation to Xi Yufeng.

He sneered. “My birth itself was a joke. What do I have to fear?”

Later on, inevitably, after so many times their bodies had merged, some tenderness inevitably surfaced, used to mask those uncontrollable outbursts.

Xi Yufeng flipped Jiang Ruo over and leaned in to embrace him, asking in a voice bordering on breaking, “Didn’t you say you loved me? Why do you want to leave?”

But Jiang Ruo couldn’t speak. His vision blurred to the point where he couldn’t even make out the face so close to him.

Not hearing an answer, Xi Yufeng asked again, “Is this your love?”

He was utterly unfamiliar with the concept of “love.” The only memory related to it was his mother’s almost insane, suffocating control over his father.

He remembered the age of nineteen, when he rushed back to see his mother for the last time. On the hospital bed, his mother screamed — ‘I love him, I love him so much, I want him to die with me!’

If that was love, then love was entanglement, how could it be escape?

When it ended, it seemed that rain had started outside.

It might have been hailstones, striking the window glass with a pattering sound, like the prelude to the end of the world.

Xi Yufeng lay flat on the bed, while Jiang Ruo lay on his side. They shared the same blanket, experiencing bone-chilling cold for the first time.

When the rain subsided, Jiang Ruo, with a voice hoarse beyond recognition, said, “My biological father died when I was seven years old.

“That year, I had just started elementary school, in the first grade. At an age when I thought I understood everything but actually understood nothing, while holding my father’s photo on the hearse, I saw a classmate waving at me. I smiled and greeted him, saying I’d come play with him after bringing my dad back. Later, when I arrived at the destination and saw everyone crying in the room, I realized that my dad would never come home with me again.

“My mother, she has always disapproved of me dancing, believing that boys shouldn’t wear tight pants or sway their hips. Most people around us also held this view. Kids of my age lacked their own opinions; they believed whatever adults told them. Word spread, and I became known as effeminate, a sissy. As I grew older, the rumors became increasingly absurd. They even claimed I learned to dance to seduce men, calling me a little fox born to a big vixen.

“She believed these words too, after hearing them so often.”

Jiang Ruo noticed the person beside him shift. He knew Xi Yufeng wasn’t curious about his past, unwilling to listen, but he had to tell his story.

His thoughts scattered, Jiang Ruo spoke wherever his mind wandered. “It’s not entirely my mother’s fault. She, a single woman, had a hard time raising me. Later, she remarried, but she didn’t expect the man to look respectable on the outside but be… a pervert.”

Even though Jiang Ruo deliberately glossed over this terrifying experience, speaking briefly, Xi Yufeng, as the listener, still felt a shudder-like chill.

He couldn’t imagine how a primary school child, weak and defenseless, could refuse the hand of an adult with malicious intent reaching out to him.

Speaking to this point, Jiang Ruo drew in a deep breath, taking a long time to exhale, as if gathering courage.

When he spoke again, his voice was less trembling, but still hoarse. “He lured and coerced me with candy, tuition fees, and my mother’s tears, forcing me to go to his room. Fortunately, fortunately, he was timid and afraid of the consequences, not daring to take things to the extreme. At most, he… made me straddle him, watching my tear-streaked face as he defiled me with his filth.”

Feeling a body press against his back, Jiang Ruo was held in an embrace, but he felt no warmth.

Xi Yufeng pressed against Jiang Ruo’s neck, telling him to stop talking.

But Jiang Ruo didn’t intend to pause, laughing bitterly. “We’re nowhere near the end yet.”

Then, he recounted what happened later.

He entered the Feng City Dance Academy with the top score, believing he had finally broken free from constraints and could soar high. He worked hard at school, always the first to arrive at the dance studio and the last to leave. He was accepted into the direct troupe of the Feng City Theatre, becoming a pillar-like presence in less than half a year. Whenever he starred in a performance, tickets were always sold out.

He thought he had finally emerged from the nightmare, thinking everything was heading in a positive direction.

“Maybe it was fate,” Jiang Ruo, like countless others with unfulfilled talents, lightly described the bleak past as a mockery of destiny. “Peng Weibin, do you remember him? He should be out now.”

“He was the son of the old troupe leader. When I joined the troupe, he was very kind to me, plus he was my senior at the dance academy. We quickly became familiar with each other. Perhaps I was too starved for affection. There was a period when I almost believed that his kindness toward me… was because he had feelings for me.”

The arm around his waist suddenly tightened, as if foreseeing that the development of the story was beyond his capacity to bear.

“The truth proved that I was being presumptuous,” Jiang Ruo paused for a moment before continuing, “Later, he began frequently introducing me to so-called opportunities. Today, dinner with this president, tomorrow, a toast with that dean. Every day, different influential figures, but the entertainment program remained constant — it was always my self-composed ‘Nameless’ dance.

“I didn’t want to perform it, so he begged me for the troupe’s survival, analyzing the pros and cons. I relented, repeatedly softening, and he became even more brazen. Once… he drugged my drink, maybe similar to what your brother did to you. When I regained consciousness, I was lying in a hotel bed. Someone was showering in the bathroom, whether it was a president of some association or a potential investor in the troupe…”

“Stop,” Xi Yufeng interrupted, “Jiang Ruo, stop talking.”

But Jiang Ruo still laughed, despite the pallor of his smile. “That time, I narrowly escaped, at the cost of being expelled from the troupe. What happened afterward, you probably know. Peng Weibin slandered me first, spreading rumors about me sleeping my way to the top, making it impossible for me to survive in the industry. To force me into submission, he placed drugs under my pillow in the dormitory… when the police took me away, I was already disgraced at school. The teachers who once favored me refused to even take my calls.”

“Next came that scandalous video. I earned my living expenses on my own. Without the stage, I lost my source of income. I managed to find work at the film city, but Peng Weibin came to cause trouble, telling everyone around me that I was a slut who slept with anyone. He tried to ruin my reputation again… I was so afraid of losing my job that I lashed out in anger and hit him. The result was him in the hospital, me criminally detained. When I was released, I received notice of my expulsion from school, leaving me with nowhere to go.”

Outside, the rain gradually subsided. Jiang Ruo opened his eyes, gazing at the residual droplets on the glass, seeing through them the distant scattered lights.

“Later, I met you.”

Jiang Ruo could hear Xi Yufeng’s slightly heavy breathing and feel how tightly the arm around him was clasped.

“Every moment spent with you felt like a dream. You hugged me, kissed me, said you missed me, cared about even the slightest injury I suffered, gave me gifts, let me sleep on a soft bed… provided me with a place that felt incredibly like home.”

Here, Jiang Ruo choked, his vision blurred once more, unable to see anything.

Strange, just a moment ago, when he tore open his wounds layer by layer, enduring such agony, he had managed to hold back his tears.

He heard Xi Yufeng say, “This is your home.”

Jiang Ruo shook his head. “No, this isn’t my home. It’s another cage, a place where you confine me.”

“From start to finish, you’ve always placed yourself in the position of a financier, treating me as a toy… doing so wasn’t wrong. You pay, I sleep with you, a relationship based on mutual needs. So the mistake lies with me, for falling in love with you, for having the audacity to entertain the despicable desire to monopolize you.”

“Not…”

Jiang Ruo didn’t give Xi Yufeng a chance, insisting on finishing his words. “You always ask me what I want, but when I tell you, you can’t provide it. Your treatment of me earlier is no different from those who trampled on me. I’ve barely escaped those rumors, and now you want to drag me back to endure them again. How are you different from them?”

Sniffling, his tears flowed even more fiercely.

An arm reached around from behind, the originally dry palm pressing against Jiang Ruo’s eyelids. The wet lashes pricked the palm, indistinguishable whose trembling it was.

In the end, Jiang Ruo raised his hand, grasping Xi Yufeng’s wrist, attempting to separate the last connection.

“Now, the dream should wake up,” he called his name for the last time, “Xi Yufeng, let go.”

“Don’t make me hate you.”

As dawn approached, Xi Yufeng closed his eyes, lying in bed, hearing some sounds.

Someone got out of bed, barefoot, stepping lightly on the floor as if dancing.

Following that was the rustling of clothes being put on. Midway through, there was a light clatter, the sound of a metal chain unclasping and falling to the ground.

This made Xi Yufeng close his eyes even tighter, fearing to see something and lose control, wanting to change his mind.

As the heavy double doors closed behind him, Jiang Ruo breathed in the air outside and rode the elevator downstairs.

Inside the elevator was a full-length mirror. Jiang Ruo looked at his reflection, a fugitive-like figure with chapped lips, injured neck, and a glaring red mark circling his wrist.

But they would all fade away, just like the chain that had once adorned his ankle. Its clatter to the ground marked the end of delusions and heralded the beginning of freedom.

On the rainy morning, Jiang Ruo stood by the bustling roadside, looking up at the sky.

An ordinary day, no different from yesterday, although the sky didn’t seem as blue as before, there was still the sun.

I can stand proudly in the sunlight — Jiang Ruo opened his eyes wide, telling himself this.

Even though his ankle felt empty and his heart seemed hollow, as if he had lost something important.