Chapter 24 - A Calculated Victory
The psychological impact on Pei Cangyu was, as anticipated, devastating.
Bai Shi maintained a calculated proximity, choosing the precise moment to offer a comforting arm around Pei Cangyu’s shoulders. Every movement was a masterclass in feigned empathy, designed to anchor Pei’s spiraling thoughts to Bai Shi’s presence.
As they sat in the car, Bai Shi took pleasure in stoking the flames of Pei’s anxiety. He began to narrate a curated lecture on the behavioral psychology of deviant stalkers—interweaving academic theories he had read with fragments of his own dark, lived experiences. The effect was immediate; he could see the color drain from Pei’s face, the terror taking root just as he intended.
That was, until Pei Cangyu raised a pointed objection regarding the yellow overcoat.
In that moment, Bai Shi’s intuition flared. He realized with a jolt of sensitivity that Pei Cangyu’s trust in Tu Ziyun was actually increasing. Had he underestimated him? He had spent years thinking of Pei as the same simple-minded, blunt instrument he had been in their youth, but the man sitting beside him was a seasoned "Super-senior," a veteran of the grueling Grade 13 repeat years. He was no longer the transparent boy who wore his heart on his sleeve.
Bai Shi could hardly blame himself for the oversight; they had been apart for far too long. He lapsed into a heavy silence, his mind racing to recalibrate.
The situation was becoming increasingly precarious.
First, there was the unpredictable variable of Pei Cangyu himself, appearing in places he shouldn't, forcing Bai Shi to improvise on the fly until his web of lies had grown dangerously tangled. Then there was the sharp-eyed Tu Ziyun, who harbored an inexplicable obsession with Pei and seemed doggedly convinced that Bai Shi was hiding something. Most critically, their life trajectories had diverged long ago. Pei Cangyu had no logical reason to side with him. If Pei were to align himself with Tu Ziyun, then...
Bai Shi stared out the window, his gaze cold and distant as the landscape blurred past.
Even after they returned to the house, a definitive solution eluded him. Pei Cangyu was truly different now. He was no longer the "idiot" of their middle school days who couldn't keep a secret to save his life, prattling on incessantly about every mundane detail. Now, Pei had depths. He had silences. He had things he chose to leave unsaid.
Bai Shi watched as Pei ran through the house, his footsteps echoing as he flicked on the lights one by one. It was such a trivial thing, yet it clearly brought Pei a sense of simple joy. He kicked off his shoes with a rhythmic *thud-thud*, looking utterly content in a way he didn't even seem to realize.
Bai Shi took his place by the hearth. Before long, as if drawn by an invisible tether, Pei Cangyu drifted toward him.
It had always been this way, Bai Shi mused. Wherever he stood, Pei would eventually follow. Did Pei even notice this subconscious gravity? Yet, despite this innate advantage, Pei was not yet fully within his grasp. He still smelled of the outside world; he still looked like he wanted to bolt.
Whenever the silence stretched too thin, Pei Cangyu looked for an exit. He let out a forced cough and announced his intention to go upstairs. Instinctively, Bai Shi reached out and caught his arm, murmuring that they needed to talk.
In truth, Bai Shi hadn't decided what to say.
He stared at Pei, who had gone rigid under his touch. Pei was so tense his knuckles were white, his fists clenched as if preparing for a physical brawl. His entire body radiated resistance, a sight that filled Bai Shi with a simmering irritability. To see the person who had been his inseparable shadow in middle school now looking like a cornered animal desperate to escape was infuriating. In the fundamental blueprint of the universe, Pei Cangyu should have come off the assembly line with a permanent label: *Property of Bai Shi*. Why did he insist on resisting the natural order of things?
This was the logic that governed Bai Shi’s mind.
He yanked Pei closer. While the psychological distance between them was a chasm difficult to bridge, physical distance was a matter decided by the stronger party. Pei leaned back, pinned between the looming figure of Bai Shi and the hard back of the chair, with nowhere left to retreat.
"I think," Bai Shi began, his voice dropping to a softer register, "I owe you an apology for what happened on Sunday."
Pei Cangyu’s posture relaxed slightly. He accepted the apology with a touch of his old self-righteousness, magnanimously granting forgiveness as if smoothing over a minor scuffle. Then, Pei spoke. "It’s actually not bad, being able to keep living here... Can we just have some peaceful coexistence?"
Bai Shi blinked, momentarily stunned. So, Pei was agreeing to stay? It seemed he had overthought the matter. He had several more manipulative schemes waiting in the wings, but it appeared they were no longer necessary. He had overestimated Pei’s "progress" after all. At the end of the day, this was still Pei Cangyu; how much could a person like him truly evolve? Bai Shi allowed a small, triumphant smile to touch his lips.
Everything was proceeding smoothly.
Then, Pei added that he wanted to pay rent.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Just as victory seemed total, a sudden, inexplicable surge of annoyance flared within Bai Shi. The words tumbled out before he could filter them: he had absolutely no interest in rent. When Pei finally registered the predatory implication behind those words, an agonizing awkwardness settled over the room.
Bai Shi felt a rush of excitement. He was always like this—insatiable, impatient, demanding total control. He wanted to fill every void in Pei’s life, whether with truth or elaborate deceptions. He no longer wanted a mere "roommate" for peaceful coexistence. If that was the case, he would push further. He would demand what he was actually interested in. Pei Cangyu shouldn't even belong to himself; he should belong solely to Bai Shi.
The thrill of the hunt took over.
He leaned in closer to Pei, his voice a gentle, persuasive lure. "You don't really have anything to lose, do you? It’s not like anything is actually going to happen."
Pei Cangyu lowered his head, hiding his expression.
*Good,* Bai Shi thought. He moved closer still. In the shadow where Pei couldn't see, the corners of Bai Shi’s mouth curled into a predatory grin. He was almost there.
"I’m moving out tomorrow. Thank you for everything during this time."
The words hit Bai Shi like a physical blow. His excitement vanished, replaced by a cold void. He had lost.
Subconsciously, he lunged forward, grabbing Pei’s hand as the other man turned to leave.
His mind flashed back to their middle school class monitor—that girl with the unremarkable face whom Pei had harbored a pathetic, soul-deep crush on. Pei had been obsessed, acting like a devoted guardian even after finding out she had a boyfriend. The memory was a bitter pill. Bai Shi knew that the only person Pei had ever truly loved was that class monitor. Only her.
The thought stoked his fury.
His dissatisfaction and gloom could no longer be suppressed; they erupted from within. This idiot, Pei Cangyu, with a head full of useless rubbish. He was so stupid he’d believe anything anyone told him, utterly devoid of judgment. He was dull, prone to adolescent delusions, easily satisfied with mediocrity, and possessed not a single redeeming quality... *Damn it.* A person like this was born to be a sacrifice for others. If he was destined to fall into someone’s hands, why shouldn't it be Bai Shi’s? At least Bai Shi wouldn't discard him once he was used up. If only Pei would surrender, Bai Shi could spend a lifetime taking care of him, giving him everything he ever wanted.
Pei sat back down across from him, looking dazed, his lips parting as if to speak.
Bai Shi felt the hand he was holding grow cold. He realized Pei was afraid. Of course—Pei Cangyu had always detested gloomy, intense people.
"That’s not going to work, is it?" Bai Shi let out a self-deprecating laugh.
He took a slow, steadying breath, carefully pulling his mask of gentleness back into place. Since he had already committed to this path, he had to see it through to the bitter end. He would lie. After all, Pei was gullible.
His fabrication began with a simple question: "Do you have a girlfriend now?" He stepped into the role of a sympathetic counselor from a film he’d seen, transitioning from "Not everyone is lucky enough to have the person they love, love them back" into a confession scene lifted straight from another movie. Since Bai Shi himself was a monster, he would let a "normal" persona handle the interaction for him.
From the cadence of his voice to the rhythm of his breathing, to the precise micro-expressions of his face and the way his eyes shimmered with unshed tears—everything was under his absolute control.
However, Bai Shi hadn't expected the look on Pei Cangyu’s face when their eyes finally met.
He was one sentence away from the finish line. He was supposed to say "I love you," but as he looked at Pei’s earnest, almost tearful expression, the words died in his throat. The lie was stuck, refusing to be voiced.
Then, Pei Cangyu kissed him.
Bai Shi was stunned into total stillness for several seconds. By the time he regained his senses, Pei had already pulled back in a panic. Bai Shi lunged for him, pressing the advantage to pin him down, but Pei struggled wildly, breaking free and bolting up the stairs.
Bai Shi stood alone in the silence for a long moment. Then, a slow, certain smile spread across his face.
*There it is,* he thought. *He’s mine.*
Victory would always belong to him.
