Taming the Fierce Hound | Chapter 57 | The Falling Star | Novela.app

“We need to talk.” Zong Yan led him into the lounge. She leaned against the door, looking down at the seated Si Jiang. Si Jiang, however, maintained his provocative smirk. “Go die.” Zong Yan reached out and flicked the light switch off. Then she flicked it back on. Si Jiang sat where he was, staring at her with a cold expression. “You really aren't Si Jiang,” Zong Yan sighed. She walked over to him and asked earnestly, “Where did he go?” Though she had always known Si Jiang suffered from mental illness and severe hallucinations, she hadn't expected it to reach such a pathological state. At the very least, during the time she had kept him confined, he had never lost his sense of self like this. Wait—had he really not? Zong Yan pursed her lips. She suddenly remembered that during the early days of his confinement, there was a period when Si Jiang’s mind had regressed to that of a child, though he had recovered quickly. In a way, it was very similar to his current condition. “...” Zong Yan looked at the “Si Jiang” before her and sighed. “Coward.” Had he chosen to escape into the depths of his mind out of fear again, allowing a substitute to take over? Seeing that he had been found out, “Si Jiang” didn't seem angry. “He’s already dead, you know.” “Who are you?” Zong Yan asked. “Guess.” He began humming a nursery rhyme from some unknown era, the melody intermittent as if he hadn't heard the full version himself. Yet, it sounded familiar to Zong Yan. It was an insert song from a movie—one she and Si Jiang had watched together. Zong Yan leaned down, reaching out to cup his face. His singing stopped instantly. He widened his eyes as she drew closer. “Si Jiang,” she said softly. His face contorted. “Wrong!” Ignoring him, Zong Yan continued, “I remember Si Jiang told me he was kidnapped when he was a child. He said he was locked in a box.” The face between her palms twitched. “He was terrified because there was no light in the box, and he couldn't hear any sound. So, he could only talk to himself. The kidnappers taunted him, saying his parents didn't want him anymore and that they were going to throw him into the sea.” “Si Jiang” curled his lip. “They weren't taunting him. It was the truth.” Zong Yan gave a soft “mm,” not contradicting him. “So even after he was rescued, he never truly left that shadow. A part of him remained there forever.” Her fingers brushed against his temple. “That part is a child who is afraid of being discarded, afraid of dying alone.” He suddenly tried to break free from her grip, but she held him down firmly. “That entity has seen nothing of the world; it has only seen Si Jiang’s despair and his countless negative emotions. Therefore, the more desperate he becomes, the stronger it grows.” A trace of pity appeared in Zong Yan’s expression—a feeling she had never even granted herself. But this time was different; his despair stemmed from her. Despair had become the perfect nutrient for this fragile growth. “Because I broke my promise, he was very sad, wasn't he?” She pulled off Si Jiang’s arm sleeve and saw the fresh marks added to his skin. “What a fool. So stubborn.” “Si Jiang’s” hands began to tremble. “I think I forgot to tell you something.” Zong Yan placed his hand over her heart. “I’m sorry for leaving you there. But I never intended to abandon you.” Si Jiang’s pupils began to lose focus, followed by a violent tremor. A raspy, wheezing sound came from his throat, as if he were fighting for breath. Zong Yan pulled his head against her stomach, holding him close to prevent him from hurting himself. Soon, she felt him go still. It was as if all the strength had left his body. Then, she felt her clothes grow damp with tears. The corners of Zong Yan’s mouth lifted. She placed her hand on the back of his neck, stroking him gently like one would a pet. He began to cry even harder. His hands gripped the fabric at her waist, burying his head deeper into her. It was as if he wanted to cry out a lifetime’s worth of grievances. Feeling helpless and suspecting her clothes would be completely soaked, Zong Yan tilted his face up. Finally, they were face to face. Zong Yan smiled and said, “You look so ugly when you cry.” It was true. He was sobbing rhythmically, his eyes swollen like walnuts and his nose bright red, tears and snot covering his face. Such a handsome face, yet he was crying like a small child. Si Jiang’s head bobbed in her hands. His tears gathered into rivers, flowing into her palms until they formed a small lake. There wasn't a trace of his previous sharp edge left on his face; there was only the lingering sorrow of finally being comforted. He had finally been accepted again. “Waaaah... hmph... waaaah.” “Alright, stop crying.” Zong Yan pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped his face. “Waaaah!” He cried even louder. “I... I... *cough*... I want to cry!” “Fine.” Zong Yan had to go through several more tissues to catch his tears. “You hit... my face,” Si Jiang sobbed. “I’m sorry. But if I didn't hit you, you would have hit someone else.” “That... that wasn't me who wanted to hit them!” He wasn't *that* crazy, okay? “Mhm, I know.” Zong Yan nodded. “You... hit me... twice. *Sniff*.” “And... and you ignored me.” “You went to the movies with... with that cat person.” “At the bar... you pretended not to know me.” “You didn't reply to my WeChat.” “You didn't... care about me.” “Your technique is bad, and... and you don't like using things...” He rambled on, listing countless grievances. Zong Yan couldn't listen anymore; she pinched his chin and kissed him. Si Jiang closed his eyes, tilting his head up obediently in a gesture of total surrender. He slowly leaned back, pressed onto the bench by Zong Yan. His tears were still falling uncontrollably. How could such intense emotions be settled in a single moment? Moreover, this was the accumulation of over a year of longing. Zong Yan touched the corners of his eyes, teasing him, “I didn't know you were such a crybaby.” Si Jiang opened his eyes, annoyed. “I’m not!” He was a grown man; he didn't just shed tears for no reason. Zong Yan simply smiled. Si Jiang pouted and hooked his finger around hers. Zong Yan caught his hand and pinned it under her palm. They gazed at each other. Si Jiang lifted his head to kiss Zong Yan’s lips. She took his lip between hers as her hand slid inside his collar. Despite how much he had sweated, he still wasn't "wet" enough. Si Jiang’s back tensed for a moment before he relaxed his body, wrapping his legs around her waist. “I’m very clean today,” he whispered. A new flush crept onto his face, and his eyes fluttered half-closed. Zong Yan kissed his ear and said, “Your hair is too short.” Si Jiang’s waist trembled, and his lips quivered. Why... why did it feel even stranger than before? “I... I know.” He would grow it out. He knew she liked his hair long. But— Si Jiang’s brow furrowed in suppressed emotion as he spoke haltingly, “Are you... are you going abroad?” Zong Yan’s hand stopped. “How did you know?” Si Jiang suddenly opened his mouth as if to bite her. “You really are going abroad!” His eyes instantly filled with resentment again. “Liar, liar, liar!” She was going to abandon him again, yet she was treating him like this! “Don't move!” Zong Yan quickly pinned him down and withdrew her hand. “Why do you treat me like this?” Si Jiang hadn't eaten for over a day; he was exhausted and could only lie there under her weight, unable to move. Seeing the tears he had just stopped about to pour out again, Zong Yan let out a long sigh. Si Jiang looked at her uneasily. Did she think he was annoying? She reached into her pocket. “I forgot to give you something.” Si Jiang watched her movements intently. “I originally looked for you to talk about this.” She pulled something out and signaled for Si Jiang to hold out his hand. “Do you want it?” It was a smooth block of wax, sealed inside a transparent protective case. The wax had been exquisitely polished, and a character was carved into it. Si Jiang’s gaze went blank for a moment. Zong Yan didn't let him take it yet, closing her hand over it. “You know what it means if you take this.” “Si Jiang, I think that although we’ve known each other for many years, the actual time we’ve spent together is very short. But even in that short time, it should be enough for you to understand what kind of person I am.” She stood up from the bench, the wax block resting in her open palm. “Many things are like the stars and the moon in the sky. They are too far away. I never thought about reaching out to pluck them.” “I only want the stars that fall toward me of their own accord.” Si Jiang clenched his fists and scrambled up from the bench. Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped forward and snatched the wax block back. Then, he lowered his head and knelt before her. “I fell a long time ago.” A falling star, once it hits the ground, is nothing more than a stone in a rubbish heap. But if that stone is taken home, polished well, and placed carefully... Only then does it realize it can be one of a kind. “Master.” *** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation --- | --- | --- 主人 | Master | In this context, it refers to the specific power dynamic and emotional bond between the leads. 蜡块 | Wax block | A polished piece of wax, likely a seal or memento, symbolizing their connection.