HL 52

Ying Yusheng took Xu Nanxiao to soak in the bath, and by then Xu Nanxiao was already exhausted, with no strength left to resist.

Ying Yusheng carried him into the bathtub and washed his body clean. Then he squeezed some shampoo into his palm, worked it into a lather, and gently massaged Xu Nanxiao’s scalp, combing through his hair that had grown a little longer.

After rinsing both of them off, Ying Yusheng wrapped Xu Nanxiao snugly in a bath towel and carried him to the bed.

While he was looking for pajamas for Xu Nanxiao, Xu Nanxiao had already fallen asleep. Even in sleep, his brows were tightly furrowed.

After finishing all the preparations, Ying Yusheng got into bed as well.

Dim moonlight filtered into the room, sliced into fragments by the gaps between the leaves outside the window. He looked at Xu Nanxiao’s back—so silent, so distant, like that mute tree that could not speak.

And Ying Yusheng slowly moved closer, lifting his arm and winding himself around the tree like a vine.

When Xu Nanxiao was awake, he would never obediently let Ying Yusheng hold him like this.

Perhaps that was also part of the reason Ying Yusheng forced Xu Nanxiao to have sex.

Ying Yusheng held the warm body in his arms, the familiar scent of tea lingering at the tip of his nose, smoothing away all his restlessness and gloom. In this moment, he thought again of the question Xu Nanxiao had asked him—

[“Ying Yusheng, if you want revenge on me, there are a thousand ways to do it! If you just want to toy with me, you could have done whatever you wanted while I was hypnotized!” Xu Nanxiao wept loudly and asked him, “Why did you get close to me in the first place?! Why did you lie to me?! Why did you have to provoke me?!”]

Yes, why?

In fact, moments like this—falling asleep in each other’s arms—could have happened before, too.

Every time after hypnotizing Xu Nanxiao, Ying Yusheng would let him sink into a deep sleep. Before Xu Nanxiao woke up, they had brief moments of lying side by side.

In those moments, he didn’t need to lie, didn’t need to pretend to be gentle, didn’t need to think about how to make Xu Nanxiao happy. He only needed to vent his desires, enjoy the rise and fall of his own emotions, clean up the scene, and then leave before Xu Nanxiao noticed.

A simple and pure relationship—Ying Yusheng had once thought that was exactly what he wanted.

But later, he slowly realized that the time he could hypnotize Xu Nanxiao was too short. For the vast majority of each day, Xu Nanxiao was somewhere Ying Yusheng didn’t know, with people he didn’t know.

Xu Nanxiao flirted with women, slung his arms around men’s shoulders, yet when Ying Yusheng brushed past him and their shoulders touched, Xu Nanxiao would let out an impatient “tsk” and look away.

Xu Nanxiao didn’t even know who he was.

Gradually, Ying Yusheng felt something itching in his throat—not a cough, not a need to speak, just an itch. He swallowed, and as the saliva passed over his Adam’s apple, he could feel that bump rolling up and down too hurriedly.

Finally, one day, he used Xu Nanxiao’s phone to take those photos.

And then waited quietly to be discovered.

If Ying Yusheng truly didn’t care about Xu Nanxiao’s feelings, if he truly saw Xu Nanxiao as nothing more than a vessel for his own emotions—then what was this “itch”?

And why did he want to be “seen” by Xu Nanxiao?

Perhaps it was overthinking, but Ying Yusheng actually fell ill.

Because the symptoms were too similar to the flu, and he was afraid of passing it on to Xu Nanxiao, Ying Yusheng didn’t go back to the villa after work these days. Instead, he returned to the home they had shared before.

Though he hadn’t been there in a long time, the hourly cleaner still came every day to tidy up. Everything was in its “correct” place—no deviation, no dust, and no people.

This cleanliness itself had become evidence that something had been thoroughly and mercilessly erased here.

Ying Yusheng’s fever lasted a full three days.

During his delirious sleep, he had many dreams, all about Xu Nanxiao. But once he opened his eyes, he could never clearly remember any of them. Strange—he had never dreamed since childhood.

On the fourth day, Ying Yusheng sat up groggily from the bed. His throat felt like a healing wound, slightly prickly with pain, but bearable.

However, when he opened his mouth, he was surprised to find that he couldn’t speak at all. His throat made a hissing sound like an old blower.

Ying Yusheng had lost his voice.

After the family doctor examined him, he said it was temporary and would gradually recover. So Ying Yusheng didn’t pay it much mind and drove to the villa where Xu Nanxiao was being kept.

The housekeeper was surprised by his sudden arrival and deftly took his coat as he removed it.

Unable to speak, Ying Yusheng typed on his phone to ask her: [How has Nanxiao been this week?]

“He still doesn’t talk much, but he’s much more spirited than before, and he’s eating more too.”

Hearing this, the corners of Ying Yusheng’s mouth curved into a proper smile. He thought to himself—sure enough, without him around, Xu Nanxiao was much happier.

The housekeeper sensed his subtle shift in mood and quickly added, “But Xiao Xu did ask yesterday where you’d gone. I told him you were sick, which was why you hadn’t come these past few days.”

[What was his reaction?]

The housekeeper gave an awkward smile and didn’t answer.

In truth, Ying Yusheng could guess. With Xu Nanxiao’s personality, it was probably something like “What a shame—why didn’t a car run him over instead?”

Pushing open the partition door on the second floor, before he even saw anyone, Ying Yusheng heard Xu Nanxiao say, “Which one do I press for hungry?”

Ying Yusheng stepped closer and saw that Xu Nanxiao had bought a set of dog buttons and was training the puppy with them.

The little Bichon spun around excitedly, let out a yip, and placed its paw on the red button. Immediately, a mechanical male voice announced, “Hungry.”

It quickly pressed the green button next: “Eat.”

Xu Nanxiao broke into a smile—not a big one, but genuine. He rubbed the Bichon’s head with both hands and praised, “Juanjuan, so smart. Good dog, good dog.”

Perhaps because he’d been tormented so badly by Ying Yusheng that night, Xu Nanxiao had actually given the puppy a new name.

But he soon sensed someone standing behind him. Turning around, he saw Ying Yusheng. Immediately, his smile faded and his brow furrowed, as if he’d laid eyes on something filthy.

“What are you doing here? Not saying a word—cat got your tongue?” Xu Nanxiao sneered.

Ying Yusheng shook his head, then opened his mouth and pointed to his throat, indicating that he couldn’t speak right now.

“Going to stay like this forever?”

Ying Yusheng shook his head.

“Guess I got my hopes up for nothing.”

After saying that, Xu Nanxiao felt something tugging at his pant leg. He looked down—it was Juanjuan, biting at the hem of his trousers.

Having caught Xu Nanxiao’s attention, the puppy wiggled its round little bottom over to the dog buttons and pressed again: “Hungry,” “Hungry,” “Eat,” “Eat.”

“I know, I know, I’ll make it for you right now. You’re like a starving ghost reincarnated.” Though his words were grumbling, Xu Nanxiao opened the fridge, took out the pre-prepared chicken breast, and put it into the food processor.

Ying Yusheng wanted to say that this was something the chef could handle. But he patted his pockets and realized his phone was still in his coat, which he hadn’t brought inside, so he gave up.

Soon, the puppy’s chicken breast mixed with dog food was ready. Xu Nanxiao also brought over his own lunch—a beef and pickled cucumber sandwich.

Then Xu Nanxiao pulled out a chair for the little dog. The puppy jumped up, perched on the table, and ate alongside Xu Nanxiao.

It was only then that Ying Yusheng belatedly felt hungry. It made sense—he hadn’t eaten breakfast before coming, and on top of that, he was still recovering from illness and already a bit weak.

So Ying Yusheng pointed at himself, then touched his stomach, signaling that he wanted to eat too. But Xu Nanxiao wouldn’t even look up at him. No matter what gestures Ying Yusheng made, he remained deliberately oblivious, chewing his bread with his head down.

Ying Yusheng tried to speak, but only a hissing sound came from his throat.

Even that failed to catch Xu Nanxiao’s attention—or perhaps, he simply didn’t want to notice.

Realizing this, Ying Yusheng’s movements gradually slowed, and his hands dropped to his sides.

He suddenly felt that a wall stood between them.

This wall was made of lies, deception, and betrayal, silently erected between the two of them.

And yet, once upon a time, they had been the kind of people who sat and ate together.

Xu Nanxiao would rant to him about the idiots and the ridiculous things he’d encountered that day, while Ying Yusheng watched the news and listened, occasionally offering a piece of advice. If he wasn’t paying attention, something from his plate would get stolen by Xu Nanxiao.

When caught, Xu Nanxiao would burst out laughing—bright and clear, like morning light flooding into the room. His eyes would crinkle into slits as he pushed the half-sausage he’d stolen back onto Ying Yusheng’s plate, blocking it with his chopsticks: “Here, you cheapskate. That’s what you get for not listening to me.”

Ying Yusheng even fell into a daze, unsure whether that scene had ever really happened.

He wanted to ask: If the deception was fake, was the affection that came before real? If the affection was real, then was Xu Nanxiao’s hatred for him now fake?

Xu Nanxiao deliberately refused to look at Ying Yusheng. As long as he didn’t engage, the other man would eventually lose interest and walk away.

This scene had played out in this room countless times—countless times.

Sure enough, Ying Yusheng’s presence faded away.

But the next second, the mechanical male voice sounded: “Hungry.”

Xu Nanxiao looked up.

It was Ying Yusheng, unable to speak, crouched on the floor with his head lowered, pressing the dog button.

“Hungry.”

“Eat.”

“Hungry.”

“Eat.”

Xu Nanxiao originally didn’t want to respond, but Ying Yusheng kept pressing it endlessly, making it impossible for him to eat in peace. So he slammed his chopsticks down on the table and snarled under his breath, “Are you fucking done? If you want to eat, get the hell out and have the cook make you—”

“I love you.”

The cold, synthesized mechanical voice cut him off.

All of Xu Nanxiao’s words froze in his throat.

Ying Yusheng kept his eyes lowered, pressing the “I love you” dog button over and over, again and again. That mechanical, almost eerie voice echoed through the room, standing out even more starkly in the suffocating silence.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

No intonation, no emotion—just a pre-set string of syllables meant for a pet.

Yet at this moment, they carried the most complex emotions a human being could hold.