By evening, Shen Jianqing came again to bring me food.
The main door was tightly closed. The previously hollow windows had been barred with iron rods, slicing the outside view into fragments and eliminating any chance of escaping through the windows. I was effectively imprisoned.
Imprisoned.
I never imagined that in this day and age, something like this could happen—and to me. Reasoning with Shen Jianqing was impossible. He didn’t believe in personal freedom, only that in this place, everything obeyed his will.
He acted like a madman, a rogue bandit.
All my previous belief in his innocence and naïveté was crushed—it turned out the only naïve ones were us, fools who couldn’t read people.
“You’re not eating, not taking medicine?” Shen Jianqing said, eyes flicking toward the untouched dishes and soup neatly laid out at noon, voice teasing. “Going on a hunger strike with me?”
I rolled over, turning my back to him, refusing to respond.
He could control my movement—could he also control whether I ate or spoke? I didn’t believe he could starve me here.
Would it really be that easy?
Shen Jianqing set down the steaming food and took two steps closer, ignoring my resistance, his hand touching my forehead.
It was icy cold. Like a slab of ice.
“No wonder… you’re too weak from the fever to eat. My bad for not being careful enough,” he murmured to himself, his tone soft, as if we were intimately connected.
But in reality, we weren’t.
He paced briefly, then returned to the bed with the medicine in hand. “Li Yuze, I’ll feed you. Come here.”
I still didn’t move.
Time seemed frozen. No one spoke. Silence stretched like the calm before a storm.
I closed my eyes, quietly waiting for his next move. A minute passed—still no sound, no movement.
But I knew he hadn’t left. His deep breathing never stopped.
They say that a condemned prisoner’s wait for death is the most unbearable. I now understood that feeling.
A faint, shallow laugh echoed behind me. My skin prickled instinctively.
That madman… why was he laughing?
Before I could react, a surge of force flipped me over. Shen Jianqing’s impossibly beautiful face suddenly loomed in front of me. His eyes bloodshot, his mouth spread in a grin revealing sharp fangs, the smile chilling to the bone.
Even prepared for him to be angered, I was startled.
“You’re ignoring me, huh? Not eating or drinking?” He said, reaching to grab my shoulders and yanking me upright.
I was feverish, weak, and sore all over, but a surge of anger gave me a bit of strength. We struggled. I slapped him across the face.
It wasn’t hard—but enough to pour fuel onto his fire.
A fiery blaze flickered in his dark pupils. He shoved me down. Already leaning back, I wasn’t braced for his strength. I hit the bed hard, my head smashing against the wall with a “thunk,” pain turning my vision black.
When the darkness cleared, Shen Jianqing knelt between my legs, holding a plain porcelain bowl. One hand gripped my chin, forcing me to tilt my neck painfully upward, while the other shoved the bowl of pitch-black medicine into my mouth.
The bitter liquid flooded my mouth.
I thrashed, pushing, clawing, scratching—but he didn’t budge.
The medicine trickled down, some spilling over, splattering the bed. I coughed violently, chest heaving, lungs burning, nose filled with bitter liquid. I must have looked completely miserable.
But the more humiliated, the better. I wanted him to struggle to maintain control.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time… I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Shen Jianqing’s voice came from somewhere distant, laced with malice and mockery. “This is exactly how you drank the welcoming wine back then, isn’t it? Do you know how many people were watching you? You’re so good at seducing people, Li Yuze!”
Through my coughing, he gripped my chin higher, towering over me, staring down sharply.
Up close, I finally saw the true face of this dark, brooding boy.
I was stunned. After a long moment, I realized he was talking about the time in the Dongjiang Miao Village. Back then, Ali had fed me the welcoming wine. She was shorter than me, so I had to tilt my head slightly to avoid touching her.
The posture was the same as now.
But the feelings were completely different.
A wave of terror surged through me—being watched, being monitored.
Every word, every action scrutinized, dissected somewhere unknown, over and over.
“You… you’ve always been there…”
Shen Jianqing tilted his head, eyebrows stretched. “Of course I’ve always been there. You almost caught me several times. Oh wait! You already did.”
I remembered that night in the Dongjiang Miao Village bar, when he had smiled at me across the crowd. Back then, I had been blinded by his looks. Now, looking back, I realized that smile had been layered with dark currents, like a greedy snake coiled in a corner.
“That photo… you appeared on purpose too?” I thought of my own “prideful creation,” laughing at how I had lingered over it, believing it a beautiful coincidence I wanted to save for Shen Jianqing.
“Oh, and that photo of yours!” At the mention, Shen Jianqing grew even more excited, his eyes sparkling. “Do you know how scared you made me when you showed it to me?”
I stared at him, stunned.
But even if I didn’t respond, it didn’t matter. Shen Jianqing went on: “I didn’t leave it on purpose. Didn’t expect you to see me so soon! Li Yuze, didn’t you say we were fated to meet?”
Fated?
This is what he called fate?
Everything he had orchestrated step by step, he now claimed was fate. Wasn’t that ridiculous?
I no longer had the energy to show any expression. Exhaustion swept over me, leaving me hollow. I said listlessly, “What do you even see in me? Shen Jianqing, we’ve never met before. You don’t even know me—what could you possibly like about me?!”
Shen Jianqing replied matter-of-factly: “Wasn’t it you who first tempted me? In Dongjiang, you came looking for me. In Shidi Mountain, you came to beg me. I only watched from afar. You repeatedly drew me closer.”
Me: “…” This is some kind of robber’s logic.
“If I misled you, then I apologize—it’s my fault. Can I explain now? I really didn’t…”
“Li Yuze.” Shen Jianqing cut me off completely. His face darkened in an instant, flipping moods without pause. With a somber expression, he said, “Don’t say the things I don’t want to hear. We Miao are stubborn. Once we set our eyes on someone, we never change. You’re already mine. In this life, you’ll never get rid of me.”
He stood tall, eyelids lowered, gazing down at me. The indigo Miao attire made his face appear perfect, but to my eyes, he looked like a hellish warrior.
He added, “Take your medicine and rest. Don’t think your friends are coming back,” then left directly, and soon I heard the lock click outside the door.
I shrank into the corner of the bed, back pressed against the wall, barely feeling safe. My blood surged from the earlier struggle, my emotions rollercoastering, sweat cold on my skin, my body seeming to lose warmth. My foot remained unbandaged. My right ankle was swollen unnaturally, joints slightly misaligned, pain digging into my bones.
Calm down… calm down, Li Yuze.
I couldn’t stop trembling. I told myself to stay calm.
This situation was beyond anything I had ever imagined—there was no emergency plan. I couldn’t wait for Qiu Lu or Wen Lingyu to return with help. I had to save myself.
Relying on yourself is never wrong.
But given my current condition, self-rescue was nearly impossible. I had seen Shen Jianqing’s strength; even at full health, I might not control him. And my foot was injured.
I knew exactly what he had in mind. He deliberately delayed, refusing treatment or bandages, wanting my foot crippled. Several times he had stared at it with that strange, calculating look—I already guessed his intentions.
I couldn’t just sit and wait. The injury needed immediate attention. In this large Miao village, there had to be a doctor—or at least someone knowledgeable in medicine. My top priority was saving my foot; I couldn’t leave it crippled.
Otherwise, running would be impossible.
To accomplish this, I still had to rely on—Shen Jianqing.
I gritted my teeth, heart sinking with despair.
To bow to the man who had violated me, even to beg him… that was more painful than death. Once dignity shatters, crumbles into dust, it’s nearly impossible to recover.
No… Li Yuze, what is dignity!
Compared to spending a lifetime trapped here, what is dignity?!
As long as I got out, returned to my world, returned to civilized society, who would know what happened here? I could still live a normal life, follow the path I had planned.
I could pretend none of this had happened.
No, nothing truly disappears just because no one knows. Everything leaves traces.
It could even be discovered!
“Ah—”
The conflict between reality and thought made my head pound. I clutched it, pulling at my hair, sliding slowly down into the bed.
The mattress was damp from the earlier struggle, smelling strongly of herbs. I had no time to care. I just needed to sleep.
Sleep, and leave all the unsolvable thoughts for tomorrow. For now, just sleep.
I buried my face in the blanket, hiding my cowardly tears.