Taming the Fierce Hound | Chapter 51 | Breaking the Addiction | Novela.app

Chapter 51 - Breaking the Addiction The journey home was shrouded in an unsettling, heavy silence. The designated driver stole frequent, nervous glances through the rearview mirror, gauging the atmosphere in the backseat. In his line of work, he had ferried countless drunks home—the boisterous ones who shouted at shadows, the belligerent ones who tried to seize the steering wheel in a fit of delirium, and the lonely ones who treated him like a long-lost confidant. He had seen the quiet ones, too, those who slumped against the door and slept like the dead. But the silence radiating from these two was different. Neither of the young men in the back was asleep. They were vibrantly, painfully awake. One leaned heavily against the window, staring out at the blurred neon of the city, while the other sat rigidly in the middle. Every few minutes, the one in the center would cast a worried look at his companion and let out a long, weary sigh. The driver had handled luxury cars before and encountered his fair share of the elite, but he could bet his license that the man by the window was among the wealthiest he’d ever served. There was an aura that only comes from being steeped in generational wealth—a certain gravity in the way he carried himself, even in his current state. Yet, what could possibly drive a golden boy like this into such a profound, soul-crushing melancholy? Melancholy. That was the only word for it. The gathering had fractured almost immediately after Zong Yan’s group departed. It was as if she were the sun around which their orbit turned; once she was gone, the gravity failed, and everything drifted apart. Si Jiang hadn’t said a word. He had simply grabbed his coat and walked out, his face a mask of cold stone. Chen Bai had barely managed a few polite dismissals to the others before rushing to catch up. He didn't dare let a man in Si Jiang’s fragile mental state wander the streets alone. Since Si Jiang’s return to the country, his temperament had been stable enough—perhaps a bit more withdrawn than before, but manageable. However, ever since Zong Yan reappeared, Si Jiang’s psychological state had plummeted. It was a volatile rollercoaster: one moment he was eerily normal, the next hyper-fixated, and the next plunged into a dark, brooding depression. The common denominator in every spike and every crash was always her. Every time he spiraled, it was because of some new friction, some fresh wound inflicted by Zong Yan. Chen Bai couldn't fathom it. What was so special about that woman? What had happened during that missing year of Si Jiang’s life that could utterly dismantle a man’s personality and leave him so bereft of reason? Sometimes, the urge to reveal everything to the Si family elders was almost overwhelming. But Chen Bai knew that if he crossed that line, things would truly spiral out of control. The Si Group hadn’t reached the pinnacle of wealth through kindness alone; there were shadows in their history, secrets that were never meant to be unearthed. He had overheard his parents whispering about lines that had been crossed, about methods that defied morality. If the Si family decided to "handle" a penniless student like Zong Yan, her fate would be sealed in an instant. And Si Jiang… Chen Bai’s only concern was his friend. Given Si Jiang’s current obsession, there was no telling what desperate, self-destructive measures he might take if she were harmed. *He’s like a stray dog that’s been kicked one too many times,* Chen Bai thought, watching his friend. *Damp, miserable, and utterly isolated.* "Heh. What identity, she asks?" The driver’s hands jerked, nearly losing his grip on the steering wheel. Chen Bai was equally startled by the sudden, jagged edge of Si Jiang’s cold laughter. Si Jiang’s expression shifted instantly from desolation to a sharp, manic intensity. He propped his head against his hand and turned to face Chen Bai. His eyes were wide, burning with a frantic light. "She," Si Jiang said, his voice dropping to a low, deliberate hiss, "is. Dreaming." Chen Bai blinked, bewildered. "Dreaming? About what?" Si Jiang turned away again, his gaze fixing on a stray dog scavenging near a dumpster on the roadside. The animal looked pathetic, driven by nothing but the raw, base instincts of hunger and survival. He finally understood what Zong Yan wanted. She wanted him to acknowledge that they were nothing. *Why?* he wanted to scream. *Why do you get to decide?* He admitted he had been pathetic. He had been the one to provoke her, to crawl back to her. But hadn't she already had her revenge? She had dismantled him, practiced a form of psychological subjugation that stripped him of his dignity and his very sense of self until he was nothing more than a pet. He had lived at her feet, seeking the smallest crumb of her favor as if she were the center of his universe. They should be even now, shouldn't they? He told himself his current pursuit was merely utilitarian. Yes, he was using her. He needed her to cure this sickness, to stop the hallucinations, to allow him to eat and sleep like a normal human being again. Once he was whole, he could return to being the high-spirited Young Master Si. He could go back to a life of normalcy. A life… without Zong Yan. The thought felt like a physical obstruction in his throat. Images flickered through his mind like a broken film reel: the cacophony of high-society galas, the blur of beautiful women and ambitious men, the scream of a sports car tearing through mountain air. He remembered the sight of expensive delicacies growing cold on a table because he had no appetite to touch them. When the parties ended, he felt like a discarded prop. When the noise faded, his WeChat was filled with nothing but hollow flattery. He saw himself sitting alone at a sprawling dining table, watching fireworks through a window while the rest of the world celebrated with their families. He saw his own face reflected in the dark TV screen. Then, the darker memories surged. The box. The chains. The dull, throbbing ache. The collar. The cold cement walls, the hard floor, the cheap, tasteless food. The woman with the eyes of a winter storm. *Don't think about it, Si Jiang.* The soft carpet. The single heater. The sound of the door opening every day. The glass jar filled with wax blocks. *Control yourself.* The warmth of their shoulders touching. The hum of the generator. The soul-searing intimacy under the fireworks. The pillbox at dawn. And that one command: *"Never forget."* *Slap!* The sound was sharp and violent. The driver slammed on the brakes, pulled over, and bolted from the car immediately, not even bothering to wait for a rating. Chen Bai stared in absolute horror. "Are you actually insane?" Si Jiang turned his head. A red handprint was already blooming across his cheek, but his eyes were unnervingly bright—clearer than they had been in months. He shook his head slowly. "No," Si Jiang whispered. "I have never been more sober." "You’re sober now?!" Chen Bai felt like he was the one losing his mind. A man who had just slapped himself across the face with full force was claiming to be perfectly lucid while wearing an expression of pure delirium. "I can't let her deceive me," Si Jiang muttered, almost to himself. "It’s all an illusion." He let out a long, shaky breath. "I’m telling you, she’s delusional if she thinks she can keep pulling my strings. Who am I? I’m Si Jiang. I have everything. She’s just a… a poor woman. This sickness—as long as I have money, finding a cure is simple, isn't it?" Chen Bai exhaled, trying to find stable ground. "If you can really think that way, then good." "Insomnia? I’ll just work until I collapse. Hallucinations? There are drugs for that. If it comes down to it, I’ll fight my own mind." Chen Bai frowned. "...What?" "If it weren't for this condition, why would I ever look at her twice? We aren't even from the same world," Si Jiang continued, his voice rising with a desperate sort of bravado. "Does she think I’m still that… that version of Si Jiang? She’s dreaming." He gripped the edge of the seat, his knuckles white. "I will quit her. I will definitely break this addiction." By the time he finished, he wasn't even talking to Chen Bai anymore. He was chanting it like a mantra, a desperate prayer whispered into the dark. Chen Bai could only nod slowly, his heart heavy with doubt. "If you can truly do that, it would be for the best." He hoped his friend was right. He hoped that by casting Zong Yan aside, the old Si Jiang would finally come back. But as he looked at the red mark on Si Jiang's face and the feverish light in his eyes, he feared the addiction had already reached the bone. *** **Glossary**