The wind was picking up, the temperature dropping fast in the forest. Branches rattled violently under the gusts, leaves scattering everywhere. A heavy rain was coming.
Shen Jianqing wanted some kind of compensation, but he didn’t say what. He rushed me back to the room, tossed out a quick “wait here,” and dashed out again. While I was sitting there, confused and uneasy, worried he’d demand something unreasonable, he returned holding something in his hands.
I took a closer look—and it was my camera.
I had kept it in my backpack. I thought I’d left the backpack behind in the cave and that it had never been retrieved. I’d been mourning the loss of all my notes inside, imagining them shredded by wild animals. I never expected it to end up with Shen Jianqing.
“All my things are still here?!” For once, something didn’t feel completely cursed.
Shen Jianqing looked very pleased with himself. “I brought everything back for you. Been keeping it safe.”
As he spoke, he casually and skillfully adjusted the camera settings, gesturing toward me as if he had something in mind.
I’d packed extra batteries so I could take more photos in the Miao village. Instead, it looked like Shen Jianqing was the one benefiting now.
After tightening a few settings, he announced, “You look really good in Miao clothing. I’ve always wanted to keep a photo of you. But your injured foot made it inconvenient before. Today’s perfect—we paid respects to Grandma, and your foot’s healed. Don’t you think it’s fate?”
It had just been an offhand comment I’d made earlier—“it’s fate.” I didn’t think he’d remember.
I had no idea what kind of “fate” he was talking about, but Shen Jianqing always had his own twisted logic, able to string coincidences—or things with no connection at all—into some grand meaning.
Night was falling, the room growing suffocatingly dark. Shen Jianqing lit a candle, and the warm flickering glow stretched our shadows long until they leaned against each other, creating an illusion of intimacy. Standing in the light, he instructed, “Li Yuze, sit right there.”
It wasn’t an unreasonable request, so I did as told and sat in the middle of the bed. Still, it felt strange—who takes photos while sitting on a bed…?
With a faint smile, the lower half of his pale face peeking out from behind the camera, he pressed the shutter. Click click click—several shots in a row.
“Look, how is it?” Shen Jianqing brought the camera over and sat right beside me.
On the screen, under warm candlelight, I sat in full Miao attire, expression cold. Maybe my expression was too stiff; even the warm-toned photo had a chill to it. Still, I had to admit—Shen Jianqing was smart. I’d only taught him once, and he’d already mastered the controls.
“You didn’t smile.” He whined softly, almost like pouting. “People outside always smile in photos.”
“I’m not the type who smiles in pictures.” A weak excuse, but I honestly couldn’t bring myself to smile.
“Well, you look good even without smiling.”
He said it while staring straight into my eyes. We were close—so close I could clearly see my own reflection in his pupils.
Close enough to catch every tiny shift in his expression.
“You look good even without smiling.” He repeated softly, voice dropping to a low, rough whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.
And our distance kept shrinking, on purpose. I tried to move back, but he suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, locking me in place, giving me nowhere to retreat.
The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop.
But the air grew thick, warm, dangerously intimate. I sucked in two sharp breaths, like a fish gasping out of water. His shadow fell over me completely, swallowing me up. In the dim light, Shen Jianqing leaned in—firm, unhesitating.
His breath brushed across my face, warm and heavy. His gaze held a kind of predatory intensity, but his voice… his voice was soft. Almost pleading.
“Li Yuze… Yuze-ge…”
My mind exploded—boom—heat flooding my cheeks instantly.
The last time we were this close, I’d been feverish and half-conscious. But this time, I was fully awake, painfully aware of his intentions.
“No—” The refusal barely escaped before his lips came down on mine. Any words he disliked, he always had a hundred ways to silence.
I tried to turn my head, but he pressed in further—one hand at my waist, the other behind my neck, giving me no space to dodge or retreat.
Our breaths tangled wildly, almost like a duet of gasps. His lips were soft—then warmer, then almost sly, like a clever little serpent tracing along my mouth, looking for an opening to slip inside.
My mind turned into mush—as if someone had poured an entire bucket of glue into my head. Everything stuck together, blurred, and dissolved into chaos.
Before I realized it, he’d pushed me back into the mattress. By the time awareness snapped back, he was already leaning over me, eyes dark with something heavy and consuming.
I suddenly remembered that violent night in the wilderness—the fear hit me again, bone-deep. The wound on his forehead, where I’d struck him, had already healed, leaving only a faint reddish mark that one wouldn’t notice without looking closely.
These past few days of relative calm with him had almost made me forget the pain of those memories. But the truth was—I was still afraid of this. Afraid and repulsed.
But Shen Jianqing slowly moved his lips away from mine, trailing along my cheeks, my neck, the back of my ears, sending tingling heat racing across my skin, until he finally stopped at my ear.
“Li Yuze… Yuze-ge… you still owe me one.”
I blinked, confused. “Owe you one?”
“Don’t deny it! It’s a fair trade.” Shen Jianqing reached to undo the buttons on my Miao clothing. I pressed my hand over his, but he didn’t get upset. Instead, he lowered his head and lightly kissed my fingers.
My hand twitched instinctively, trying to pull away—giving him the opening he needed.
“Doesn’t it bother you? Li Yuze… let’s try it again…” He whispered at my ear, seductive, almost like a forest spirit siphoning away my soul. “Last time wasn’t right. Forget it. We’ll do it again—this time will be different. I promise… Yuze-ge…”
People often say that men are creatures of sensation, easily led by their lower impulses. I used to scoff at that. If you can’t even control your own body, how can you control your life?
But in that moment, I realized I had to retract that hasty judgment.
I was a normal man, and under Shen Jianqing’s teasing, close contact, it was hard not to feel something stir.
He had found my weak point. His hands moved like snakes, agile and teasing. His eyes flickered with mischief and delight. “See? You like it too, don’t you?”
I lifted my eyes to meet his. In his dark pupils, I saw a clear reflection of myself. Maybe the atmosphere was too charged, making it hard to think clearly; maybe there was some hypnotic power in his gaze. Maybe… maybe he’d put a spell on me—
Almost instinctively, I threw my arms around his neck.
It was like a silent, unspoken signal. From deep in his throat came a low chuckle, and somehow, I could hear the pride in it.
Let madness reign. In the rocking chaos, I closed my eyes.
The candle on the table still wept alone, flickering in the wind from the window, before finally going out.
The next morning, I woke to find myself alone on the bed. He’d followed the rules—without a marriage, no sleeping in the same room.
I had no idea when Shen Jianqing had left. All I remembered from the last moments of consciousness were his sparkling eyes in the dark and a bead of sweat dripping onto my nose.
I shifted slightly, finding my body surprisingly refreshed, covered by a light top. Only my back still felt a bit stiff and swollen—not painful, but uncomfortable.
Just as I was about to get up, the sound of an iron lock turning came from outside the door, followed by Shen Jianqing pushing it open.
He froze when he saw me. No words, just a flush across his face. Anyone else might’ve thought I had somehow harmed him.
“Yuze-ge, I made this porridge really early this morning.”
I swallowed my discomfort, forced a calm composure, and sat up to take the bowl he handed me.
I didn’t know how to face Shen Jianqing, or even myself from last night.
Once desire faded, reason returned. Looking back on last night, there was no regret—but I couldn’t accept that my lower impulses had ruled me.
If before I could call it coercion, then what was last night?
Boom—
At that moment, a distant rumble of thunder cracked across the sky, followed by the roar of rain.
The storm that had been brewing all night finally poured down. Rain lashed against the windows, some drops coolly brushing my skin.
Through the small rectangle of window, I watched the trees outside struggle under the downpour, leaves mercilessly torn away.
Shen Jianqing looked at me, satisfaction written across his delicate face. After a moment, I set down the porridge and summoned the courage to say, “Shen Jianqing… could you not lock the door?”
His brow twitched.
I continued, “I won’t leave. I can’t leave. Whether the door’s locked or not makes no difference.”
I finished, staring sincerely into his eyes, heart pounding as I waited for his response.
“Heh!” Shen Jianqing let out a mysterious chuckle, making me even more anxious. Just when I thought he’d refuse, he said, “Of course.”
I was both shocked and relieved. I hadn’t expected him to give in so easily.
He smiled. “I want to trust you, of course. But Yuze-ge… you better remember what you just said. Don’t lie to me.”