WP Chapter 55

Chen Yi flinched at the look on Jiang Yibai’s face. “His name is Zheng Yu. Why? Do you know him?”

Jiang Yibai still clung to a shred of hope. “He’s really gay? And around my age?”

Chen Yi thought about it. “He said he was, but now I’m not sure… maybe he lied to me? He did look pretty young though. As for the gay thing, that seems real, right? I mean, who the hell would fake that for fun?”

Sun Chen quickly fished out his phone. “I have a photo!”

Jiang Yibai hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer to take a look. The bar lighting was dim, and the shot was zoomed in, making it grainy and blurry, but even so, he recognized that face immediately.

He could recognize it even if it turned to ash.

Li Xun had mentioned that he’d seen someone at a gay bar who looked just like Zheng Yu.

Jiang Yibai’s mind went blank. He had never imagined this man would actually have the audacity to come back, let alone lay hands on a teenager. For a few seconds, he couldn’t even name the feeling surging through his chest. Shame, fury, disgust, bitterness, and hatred flooded in all at once, a mess of toxic emotions pressing down on him, clogging his throat and searing through his lungs.

What the hell had been wrong with him back then? How had he fallen for someone like that? How could he have been so blind, so completely manipulated?

His temples throbbed violently. A red haze settled in over his vision, and something inside his chest burned like it had been waiting years for a place to erupt.

Ever since his parents died, ever since Zheng Yu vanished, ever since his second uncle’s family came sniffing after the inheritance and he cut ties with every relative on both sides, he hadn’t lost control like this.

After he’d picked himself back up, he had barely allowed himself to feel anything deeply. It was like all the sharp edges had been ground down. The reckless, quick-tempered boy he once was had vanished. He no longer let anything or anyone get under his skin. It wasn’t enlightenment. It was burnout. His heart had gone cold. Nothing could move him anymore.

What in this world could possibly matter more than life and death? Nothing.

So why was it that people like Zheng Yu, who had done such cruel, vile things, could still walk around like nothing had happened? Like they could just switch cities, switch faces, switch victims, and pretend the past never existed? What did he think other people were? Toys to be played with? Tools to be drained and discarded?

How could someone be that selfish, that shameless, and still live so easily?

“Yibai? Jiang Yibai!”

“Mr. Jiang?!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?! Old Jiang!”

Jiang Yibai staggered. He braced himself against the wall, ears ringing so loudly that everyone’s voices sounded like they were coming from underwater.

His entire body had gone numb, as if all sensation had been stripped from him. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven gasps, eyes rimmed red. All the things he thought he had buried long ago had never truly left him at all. He had only shoved them deep into some hidden, dark corner of his heart, buried them where no light could reach.

Even though Li Xun had warned him, told him he was worried something might happen if he ran into Zheng Yu unprepared, even though Jiang Yibai had believed himself calm, ready to face the man and perhaps ask for some answers at most, he hadn’t expected this.

The moment he saw that blurry profile in the photo, every buried emotion seemed to gain its own will, erupting out of him without permission. He couldn’t hold them back.

It was like a wire that had been coiled for years, hidden in some dark, forgotten crevice, suddenly pulled tight and strung through his entire body. It yanked everything to the surface, dragging his soul straight back to the hospital from all those years ago, back to the moment of collapse he had never fully allowed himself to feel.

Blinding white light. The suffocating smell of antiseptic. The red light outside the emergency room clicking off. A doctor in a white coat removing his mask, his every step a slow, quiet death sentence.

The cries of grieving relatives around him. A heavy hand pounding against his back, he couldn’t even feel the pain. His face was blank, his voice flat, as he listened to the doctor say, “There were no signs of life when they arrived. We did everything we could. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Then the beast inside him had broken loose. He kicked a row of plastic chairs across the hallway. Sent a trash bin flying. Raised his hand to hit someone, and the nurses scrambled to avoid him. A police officer nearby had to pin him to the wall.

“Calm down! Young man, calm down!”

“How the fuck do you expect me to calm down? Calm down your goddamn mother!”

“No, you’ve got the wrong file! The last name is Jiang! Check the fucking chart again! You made a mistake, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!”

“Fuck you! It’s you who fucked up—!”

Jiang Yibai gasped for breath, eyes tightly shut, one hand pressed hard against the stark white wall of the station’s break room. The voices from back then seemed to roar in his ears like they had never stopped. It was as if he had never escaped that nightmare, as if everything that had felt peaceful these past few years was just another illusion. If he opened his eyes, he would still be in that hallway, and he would still be facing the cruelty of the world alone.

“Yibai? Look at me. Yibai?” Si Shaorong’s voice was panicked, his face even paler than Jiang Yibai’s. He gripped Jiang Yibai’s hand tightly and pulled him into his arms. “Open your eyes. Look at me, Yibai?”

Sun Chen had gone pale too. “Mr. Jiang doesn’t look right. Should we call a hospital?”

Even Chen Yi, normally too proud to show concern, rushed forward. “Old Jiang? Old Jiang, don’t scare me! What’s wrong? What’s happening to you?”

A police officer outside had heard the noise and came in. “What’s going on here?”

“I think our teacher’s not feeling well,” Sun Chen said quickly. Si Shaorong didn’t have the capacity to respond. His entire focus was on Jiang Yibai, on the man trembling in his arms like he’d fallen into a hell he couldn’t wake up from. He held him tightly and hurried toward the door. Sun Chen
scrambled to follow, explaining clumsily, “It’s nothing. Just a sudden faint spell, that’s all.”

The officer frowned and told the two students to stay put before escorting Si Shaorong and Jiang Yibai out of the room.

“Want me to drive you somewhere?” the tall man in uniform asked. “He doesn’t look good.”

Si Shaorong shook his head. No matter what he said, Jiang Yibai didn’t respond. His eyes stayed shut, lashes trembling, like he was trapped in some nightmare he couldn’t wake from.

Si Shaorong’s heart was in a vice. The pain made it hard to breathe. He had never imagined that scum could still have this much power over Jiang Yibai.

“I’ll take him to the hospital.” Si Shaorong pulled open the car door and carefully helped Jiang Yibai inside. Jiang Yibai didn’t react at all. His forehead was drenched in cold sweat, and he kept muttering something under his breath.

Worried, Si Shaorong called Li Xun, who knew about Jiang Yibai’s past.

He couldn’t explain clearly over the phone, only managed to say that something was seriously wrong. Jiang Yibai wasn’t exactly unconscious, but he wasn’t fully present either. It was like he’d slipped into something in between, and Si Shaorong didn’t know what to do.

As soon as Li Xun heard that it had to do with Zheng Yu, he immediately started swearing and asked for their location, saying he’d be there right away.

Si Shaorong didn’t dare take him to the hospital where Zheng Yu was. He made a detour to a different one. Fortunately, just before they reached the entrance, Jiang Yibai started to come around.

“Where are we?” Jiang Yibai opened his eyes. His gaze was unfocused, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse. “Where are we going?”

“To the hospital—”

“No!” Jiang Yibai jolted upright, eyes wide with fear. “I’m not going! I’m not going to the hospital!”

It was the first time Si Shaorong had ever seen his lover this fragile. His heart clenched with a mix of anguish and helplessness. He immediately said, “Okay, not the hospital. Let’s just go home, all right?”

Jiang Yibai swallowed with difficulty. Just this morning, he had been full of life, but now he looked like a completely different person. His movements were stiff, his expression dulled. “Okay. Home. Let’s go home.”

Si Shaorong could barely breathe. His chest felt so tight it ached, and his eyes started to burn red too.

When they arrived downstairs, Li Xun had already gotten there first.

The moment he saw Jiang Yibai step out of the car, Li Xun’s heart sank. His face went pale.

Others might not recognize the look, but Li Xun knew it too well. After everything that happened back then, Jiang Yibai had lived like a shell of himself for a whole year. For one terrifying second, it felt like that version of Jiang Yibai had returned.

Li Xun didn’t say much. He helped Si Shaorong carry Jiang Yibai upstairs. Si Shaorong gently laid him down on the bed and coaxed him to rest, then quietly lit the lavender diffuser in the room.

The warm scent slowly spread, calming the air. Bit by bit, it washed away the sharp, imaginary scent of disinfectant that Jiang Yibai had still been smelling beneath his nose.

Jiang Yibai let out a long, shaky breath, closed his eyes, and shut himself off from everyone.

Si Shaorong followed Li Xun out to the living room. Before he could ask anything, Li Xun lit a cigarette and spoke first.

“When it happened before, this is exactly how he was. Talking to himself. Blank expression. No focus in his eyes. People would speak to him, and he’d act like he couldn’t hear a word. But you couldn’t say he’d lost his mind either. He could still go through the motions, live like a normal person. It was more like he locked himself up somewhere inside, and no one could get to him. No one could pull him out. You get what I mean?”

Si Shaorong ran a hand over his face, forcing down the tightness in his chest. The ache in his nose made his voice scratchy. “What do we do now?”

“Back then, he got through it on his own,” Li Xun said. “But it’s different now. He has you. Believe in yourself. What none of us could do… you can.”

He took a long drag from his cigarette. Smoke curled between them. “Promise me. Bring him back.”

Then, all of a sudden, he shot Si Shaorong a glare that was practically lethal. “And don’t even think about walking away because of this. If you vanish on him, I swear, I won’t go easy on you.”

Si Shaorong looked at him steadily. “I’ll never leave him.”

Li Xun nodded and gave him a few details about how Jiang Yibai had lived after the incident years ago. Before going, he also asked which hospital Zheng Yu was at. Si Shaorong didn’t bother guessing what he planned to do. He didn’t have the energy to care.

After seeing Li Xun out, Si Shaorong collapsed onto the couch. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands, trying to process the wave of heartbreak and shock that had hit him like a freight train.

All those stories Jiang Yibai had brushed aside, all the half-smiles and evasive answers had been hiding something far darker. Now the truth had finally surfaced, baring its fangs, and the monster stepped fully into the light.

Si Shaorong hadn’t even had time to feel his own pain. How could he possibly bear to let go of someone like this?

In that moment, he found himself envying Sun Chen. Sun Chen had been part of Chen Yi’s story. He had saved him before anything truly terrible could happen. Even if it meant starting a fight, burning bridges, getting hauled to the police station, he did it.

If only he had been able to do the same. If only he could have ripped that beast from Jiang Yibai’s chest before it ever took root.

Si Shaorong’s eyes turned red. He sat on the couch and endured the heaviness tearing at him from inside. If this was already unbearable for him, how much worse must it be for Jiang Yibai?

After a while, he gathered himself, went to the bathroom, and splashed his face with cold water. Then he pushed open the bedroom door quietly and stepped inside.

Jiang Yibai was fast asleep. His brows were still furrowed, his sleep uneasy. Si Shaorong undressed, climbed into bed, and gently pulled him into his arms. He kissed the top of his head, then his forehead.

As if sensing the familiar warmth and scent, Jiang Yibai instinctively nestled closer in his sleep. His breathing eased, and little by little, the tension in his brow melted away.

Si Shaorong held him tightly and whispered, “You’re not alone this time. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, I’m staying with you.”