Chapter 62 - The Price of Despair
In the cramped, suffocating confines of the narrow corridor, two men stood locked in a silent, savage confrontation.
One man’s gaze was etched with a profound, visceral hatred, looking as though the other had reached into his chest and torn out his very heart and soul. The other’s expression was a volatile mix of fury and resentment. Bai Mao felt a staggering sense of absurdity—how could a piece of trash like this, a man who had inflicted such agonizing wounds upon his Senior, be granted the grace of her forgiveness and acceptance?
He remembered the darkness. He remembered how his Senior had once been so consumed by a lonely, silent agony that she had nearly stepped into that river of no return. If it hadn't been for Past, if Bai Mao hadn't chased after her...
Human life was as fragile as a handful of sand. It felt heavy and substantial while resting in one's palm, but the moment it began to slip through the fingers, no matter how desperately one tried to hold on, no matter how tightly one clenched their fist, they could only watch in helpless silence as it vanished into nothingness.
Bai Mao was no fool. He could see that most of the time, Zong Yan’s gaze was fixed on some unreachable distance. She seemed to be looking at something, yet it was as if there was nothing at all in her world. Her eyes held no desire, no flickering emotional resonance; they were merely polished glass spheres, rotating mechanically within their sockets.
His Senior’s connection to this world was a thread so thin and brittle it seemed to vibrate with the weight of the hardships it had already endured. It was a line she could choose to sever unilaterally at any moment.
Bai Mao truly could not fathom why. His Senior was such a good, kind person—how could such a vast, swallowing darkness be hidden in the depths of her heart? He came from a harmonious family and had never experienced significant turmoil, so the concept of such profound trauma was alien to him. He could only choose to play the part of the ignorant optimist, using his own clumsy methods to try and bring a spark of light back into her eyes.
He had been so close to succeeding.
So why did Si Jiang have to appear? This man... this monster who had caused her so much suffering!
Bai Mao’s blood boiled. Zong Yan had never seen him so flushed with indignation. He truly could not comprehend her choice, and he refused to yield.
"Why shouldn't I hug her?" Bai Mao demanded, his voice trembling with heat. "We’ve been together for over a year. We’ve shared countless embraces. Who are you? What right do you have to question me?"
As the words hit him, the world turned black before Si Jiang’s eyes. "You’ve been living together this whole time?" he rasped, the air leaving his lungs. "Countless embraces?"
Had the thing he feared most finally come to pass?
"Have you... have you slept together too?" Si Jiang couldn't even hear his own voice. He only heard the distinct, agonizing sound of something fundamental fracturing within his soul.
His vision blurred, yet he could still see the two of them standing in agonizing proximity. Did this 'Bai-whatever-Mao' also kneel at his Master’s feet? Had she stroked his head too? Had he slept in her bed—the very position Si Jiang had nearly traded half his life to secure? Would she let this boy crawl under the covers and give her...?
And what about *that*?
Si Jiang’s eyes fixed on Zong Yan’s hand, currently resting on Bai Mao’s shoulder. Those hands had stroked his hair, squeezed the nape of his neck, wiped away his tears, gripped his waist, and even entered his—would she put them there too?
"Si Jiang!"
Zong Yan’s brow furrowed as she hurried toward him.
Si Jiang felt a sudden, icy numbness spreading through his limbs, as if all the blood in his body were rushing backward, flooding into his chest. The pressure was unbearable, making his heart feel as though it were about to explode. He watched blankly as Zong Yan ran to him.
*Master, why do you look so upset?*
*Do you find me annoying?*
*Am I not allowed to yell at him?*
"Cough!"
A sudden, sharp itch tickled his throat. He lowered his head, coughing up the obstruction that blocked his airway.
It was red.
Si Jiang stared at his palm, the metallic tang of iron filling his mouth. What was happening to him?
Bai Mao was stunned. He had just been hitting his stride, ready to launch into a righteous tirade against this "clothed beast." But before he could get more than a few sentences out, the man’s face had turned deathly pale. He looked utterly broken, clutching his chest as his body convulsed. First came a nosebleed, and then, shockingly, he began to vomit blood.
In an instant, Bai Mao felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. He snapped out of his anger immediately.
*No way... is this guy really that fragile?*
Zong Yan had already reached him, supporting his weight. This tall, broad-shouldered man now seemed as limp and delicate as porcelain, looking as though he would shatter at the slightest touch as he slumped against her. A thick, gurgling sound rose from his throat—a name, perhaps, muffled by the wet rasp of blood. He looked pitiable beyond words.
Bai Mao stood frozen. "..."
The situation had spiraled in a direction he never could have imagined. "Senior... is he okay?" After the initial impulse faded, regret began to set in. He hurried over, wondering if he should help. "Should I call 120?!"
He was terrified. Had he actually scolded the man into a medical emergency? He hadn't even said anything that harsh!
Zong Yan’s expression was grim. Feeling Si Jiang’s body trembling uncontrollably, she asked urgently, "Si Jiang, can you hear me? Can you speak? If you're conscious, give me a sign."
After a long moment, he gave a faint, infinitesimal nod and let out a soft whimper. Like a wounded pet, he huddled into her embrace, his fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt with a frantic, neurotic strength.
When Bai Mao reached out to help support him, the movement seemed to trigger another spasm. Si Jiang coughed up another mouthful of blood, staining Zong Yan’s clothes.
Bai Mao recoiled three steps, his face pale. "..."
Zong Yan took a deep breath. "Bai Mao, go home. I can handle this."
"But..." Bai Mao was at a total loss.
"It’s fine. Just go." Zong Yan nodded to him, signaling that he shouldn't worry.
Though he was reluctant, Bai Mao bit his lip and turned toward his own door. Once again, he was the one being sent away. Every time Zong Yan and Si Jiang crossed paths, he was the one who had to leave. Where had he fallen short? How could he lose to a man who looked mentally unstable—a man who could literally aggravate himself into spitting blood over a few questions?
As soon as Bai Mao disappeared, Zong Yan felt Si Jiang’s tremors begin to subside. Maintaining her half-crouched position, she said firmly, "We’re going to the hospital."
Sudden hematemesis was likely a sign of a serious gastrointestinal issue. It made sense; the man probably hadn't eaten a proper meal in days, had been pulling all-nighters, engaging in strenuous activity, and had just topped it off by eating an entire tub of ice cream. It would have been more surprising if he *weren't* sick.
Si Jiang remained silent, his grip on her the only answer—a silent refusal.
"Don't throw a tantrum. This isn't a minor thing," Zong Yan said. Having suffered from gastric bleeding herself, she knew the severity. "You just—"
"Do you... really... not want me in your home that badly?"
A raspy, broken voice finally cut through the silence. Her pet looked at her with eyes full of betrayal and soul-crushing sorrow, as if she had committed some unforgivable sin against him.
"I knew it... it was all a lie."
"While I was abroad, wanting to die over and over again, telling myself I couldn't... were you with him the whole time?"
"Am I just a fool? I believed everything you said. I fought with everything I had just to return to this country, all for that sliver of hope that you didn't leave me willingly."
"While I was being tortured by my own mind, did you make him your new pet? My bed, my collar, my leash, my place... did he take them all?"
With every sentence, more blood seeped from the corners of his mouth.
"You hate me, I know. If you hate me, you can kill me. You could have just never given me hope in the first place. I would have died soon enough anyway, just as you wished."
Perhaps he would have overdosed on his medication, or died of sheer despair, or perhaps he would have simply let go of the steering wheel at top speed during a race.
"If you wanted to torture me, you should have just told me. Your indifference alone is enough to make me suffer."
Si Jiang felt himself reaching the breaking point. He couldn't carry the weight anymore. "Why did you lie to me? Why did you have to lie again?"
His accusation was a howl of despair. Did she hate him that much? To trick him into discarding his pride and kneeling by her side again? Did she despise him so much that she would lie about her relationship with Bai Mao?
She had led him to believe he was the only one—her only pet. She had made him drop his guard, made him willing to set aside all the agony he had endured just to return to her side completely.
"What exactly did I lie to you about?" Zong Yan sighed.
She didn't expect a coherent answer from someone in such a state. "If you distrust me this much, why did you even come back?"
Zong Yan didn't mean anything cruel by it; she simply didn't understand. She couldn't fathom why Si Jiang was suddenly so hysterical. She had just clarified things with Bai Mao and rejected him. Bai Mao had been heartbroken, so out of a sense of past friendship, she had offered a moment of comfort. She hadn't even been that intimate; she had pushed him away the moment she saw Si Jiang.
Why was her pet reacting like this?
Zong Yan decided she needed to be clear. She hated repeating herself, but since she had accepted Si Jiang as her pet, she would explain one more time.
"I—"
Before she could finish, Si Jiang seemed triggered by her words again. A spray of blood hit the floor, and he instantly lost consciousness, his body going limp in her arms.
"Si Jiang!"
***
