CHAPTER 2

With a creak, the door swung open.

 

As before, the crack widened, revealing the person behind it.

 

But this time, it wasn’t Yu Huan standing there. Instead, it was a man Liu Ying had never seen before.

 

He wore a crisp black suit, his leather shoes gleaming as if they were cleaner than the snow covering the ground. His dark hair was neatly combed back, exposing a full forehead. His jawline was sharp and unyielding, and his dark eyes radiated an air of arrogance. A faint smile played on his lips, making it impossible to believe this was the same person who had nearly driven Yu Huan to suicide.

 

The man stepped toward Liu Ying. “You must be Liu Ying. I’ve seen your work. It’s quite impressive.”

 

His voice was calm yet carried an authority that made Liu Ying feel as if he couldn’t lift his head. For the first time, Liu Ying truly felt the oppressive weight of someone’s presence, making the air around him feel thin—or perhaps, more accurately, he didn’t dare breathe deeply in front of this man.

 

Liu Ying nodded, thinking of Yu Huan, and mustered the courage to ask, “Who are you? Do you know Yu Huan?”

 

“Yu Huan?” The man seemed to narrow his eyes. “Did he tell you that name?”

 

“Yes, but you still haven’t told me who you are.”

 

“I’m Huanhuan’s younger brother. I’m taking him away from here. You’re not to inquire about us again, understand?”

 

“I… but Yu Huan doesn’t seem to fully accept your identity… Could I ask him first before making a decision?”

 

The man’s lips curled into a slight smile, but it carried an unsettling hint of threat. He handed Liu Ying an ID card. “He didn’t even tell you his real name. Do you know what that means?”

 

The photo on the ID card was indeed Yu Huan, but the name field read: He Huan.

 

Yu Huan had been only sixteen when the photo was taken. His features hadn’t fully matured, but he was smiling radiantly, with a touch of youthful innocence.

 

The man, who had looked to be in his early twenties, was actually twenty-nine years old.

 

What had happened in your past? How did you end up like this?

 

“Do you have any other questions?” the man asked, snatching back the ID card with a smile.

 

Liu Ying still felt uneasy. “Since you’re his brother, you should know what happened to Yu… Huan before, right? How did he end up like this?”

 

“Mr. Liu, that’s not something you need to concern yourself with. Don’t you think so?”

 

“I understand. Where are you taking him?” He didn’t finish the sentence, *Will I ever see him again?*

 

The man smiled back without speaking.

 

The answer was obvious. No matter how many questions Liu Ying had, he had no choice but to leave.

 

He didn’t notice the man’s smile gradually fading, his eyes and brows betraying impatience. He pulled a handkerchief from his chest pocket and carefully wiped his ID card.

 

The man returned to the house, leaving the white handkerchief to be gradually covered by snow in the icy wilderness.

 

---

 

Yu Huan blinked groggily, momentarily unable to tell whether he was dreaming or awake.

 

He was in a small, pure white room. The room was eerily empty, with nothing to see but the occasional muffled sob.

 

Yu Huan sat on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, refusing to look at anything, as if that would somehow ease his pain.

 

In the corner, the wall began to ripple like paper, as if something were struggling to break free from within.

 

Yu Huan turned his head at the sound. A long, slender black snake slithered out of the wall, its forked tongue flicking in and out as it glided toward him.

 

The snake’s eyes were dark, triangular, and skin-like, staring at Yu Huan with the cold intensity of a predator locking onto its prey.

 

The snake crawled up Yu Huan’s leg, coiled around his neck, and finally began to rub its head against his cheek in slow, deliberate strokes.

 

“Huanhuan…”

 

A sigh, seemingly from nowhere, hung in the air. As if a puppet controlled by the venomous snake, Yu Huan suddenly snapped his eyes open. A fissure split open in the pure white floor, swallowing him whole.

 

The weightless sensation of falling into the abyss jolted Yu Huan awake. He opened his eyes with a start to see the person standing before his bed.

 

“Brother, you’re awake?”

 

Yu Huan closed his eyes again, too exhausted to speak.

 

“Brother, open your eyes.”

 

His voice sounded no different from before—as tender and lingering as ever—but Yu Huan, who knew him intimately, could detect a threat and suppressed madness beneath the surface.

 

“Brother! Open your eyes!” His voice suddenly dropped, as if he wanted to swallow Yu Huan whole.

 

Yu Huan opened his eyes and sneered, “This is the true He Chen I know. What’s the point of pretending to be so gentle?”

 

“After all this time, haven’t you had enough of this charade?”

 

“Not enough. Only when you’re dead will I find peace. I’ll be waiting for you in hell.”

 

Yu Huan had lived in hell for years. If it weren’t to witness He Chen’s downfall, he might have ended his young life long ago.

 

He Chen clenched his fists. “If you want to drag me down to hell, you’ll have to live a long time.”

 

---

 

When Liu Ying returned home, he found an unexpected visitor waiting for him.

 

A young man in his early twenties stood at the door, his eyes lighting up when he saw Liu Ying.

 

The young man hurried over. “Are you Liu Ying, the author of *Narcissus and the Little Prince*?”

 

“Who are you?”

 

“My name is Zhou Hua. I’m a friend of the person in your work. I came to ask you where he is now.”

 

“Are you really his friend?”

 

“Of course. His name is He Huan. He was my best friend in high school. I’ve been searching for him ever since something happened back then…”

 

Liu Ying opened the door. “Come in.”

 

Since the other man knew Yu Huan’s real name, he was probably a genuine friend. Besides, Liu Ying was also curious about what had happened in Yu Huan’s past.

 

Zhou Hua thanked him and sat on the sofa. “Can you tell me where he is? Don’t worry, I’m definitely not a bad person.”

 

Perhaps realizing his words lacked conviction, Zhou Hua’s voice grew softer, his expression tinged with embarrassment.

 

“I’m not entirely sure of your identity… Could you tell me something about Yu… He Huan?”

 

“Ah, sure. I met He Huan in high school. We were in the same class, but back then he was very attached to his younger brother and rarely spoke to anyone else, so we weren’t close.”

 

It wasn’t until the end of sophomore year, when the school divided students into arts and sciences, that he and He Chen finally separated.

 

Zhou Hua still vividly remembered He Huan’s expression. It was as if the sky had fallen—his entire face was suffused with a gray, despairing darkness.

 

Zhou Hua had always found their clingy behavior irritating. When he saw them finally split up, he was about to mock them when He Huan stumbled out of the classroom, tears streaming down his face.

 

He Huan was undoubtedly going to find He Chen.

 

Eager to watch the drama unfold, Zhou Hua followed. He Huan found He Chen’s classroom and, ignoring the crowd of onlookers, threw himself into He Chen’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably and begging him not to abandon him.

 

They were already in their second year of high school; such tearful displays were simply annoying. Zhou Hua sneered in disdain.

 

But what he hadn’t expected was that He Chen pushed He Huan away, telling him to stop making a scene.

 

No matter how much He Huan cried or pleaded, He Chen only said one sentence, and He Huan returned to his own classroom, utterly defeated.

 

He Chen had whispered the sentence into He Huan’s ear, so Zhou Hua never learned what he said.

 

But He Huan’s lost, heartbroken expression was etched forever in Zhou Hua’s memory.

 

“For a long time, He Huan was in a terrible mood. He wouldn’t talk or eat, and whenever he had a moment, he’d run to He Chen. He’d always go there smiling, but come back crying.

 

Back then, I had no idea what had happened to him or why he was so devastated just because he and He Chen had been assigned to different classes.

 

I felt sorry for him, so I started talking to him. It took me over a year to finally become close to him.

 

Later, I learned that his dependence on He Chen had a reason… ” Zhou Hua frowned, clearly reluctant to reveal the specific reason.

 

“By senior year, He Huan had changed a lot. He even started reaching out to others and no longer clung to He Chen all day.

 

After the college entrance exams, I asked him out. We were having lunch when He Chen showed up. He took He Huan away, and I never saw him again.”

 

Liu Ying hadn’t expected the relationship between them to be so complicated. Yu Huan was far from the carefree, happy Little Prince he’d imagined, which left him feeling somewhat disheartened.

 

He pressed on, “It’s been so long since the college entrance exams. Why are you still determined to find him?”

 

“I’ve always felt that my actions played a part in He Huan’s disappearance…”

 

Zhou Hua’s eyes reddened, even after eight years, he couldn’t forget what happened that day.

 

He Huan had agreed to go to the city center with him. Shortly after they met, He Huan received a call from He Chen.

 

Zhou Hua didn’t know what He Chen said, but He Huan replied impatiently, “I told you already, I’m meeting Zhou Hua today!”

 

—”Can’t you be reasonable? Zhou Hua and I made plans before the college entrance exam. I can’t just ditch him because you suddenly decided you want to hang out.”

 

—”It’s not about who’s more important! It’s just that I already made plans with Zhou Hua…”

 

—”What are you even angry about?”

 

—”Forget it, I’m not going to argue anymore. Zhou Hua’s waiting for me.”

 

With that, He Huan hung up the phone. Zhou Hua asked worriedly, “Was that your brother?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Did he need something important?”

 

“Nothing important. He just started yelling at me for no reason. Don’t worry about him. We finally finished the college entrance exam. Let’s have some fun today.”

 

“Okay.”

 

If someone had told Zhou Hua a year ago that he would become this close to He Huan, he would have been utterly shocked. He still remembered how stunned he was when he first saw He Huan blindly obeying He Chengyan’s every word.

 

They hadn’t walked more than a few steps when He Chen’s phone rang again. He Huan hung up, but He Chen called back. He Huan hung up again, but He Chen called again. Finally, He Huan lost all patience and simply turned off his phone.

 

Without He Chen’s interference, the two of them had a wonderful time.

 

At noon, they randomly chose a dry pot restaurant. But before their food even arrived, He Chen showed up.

 

He Chen, now graduated from high school, stood nearly six feet tall. His consistent training had given him a lean, muscular physique. His face was dark with anger, radiating an intimidating aura that made others avoid looking at him, fearing they might provoke his wrath.

 

“Brother, why weren’t you answering my calls?”

 

He Chen’s words were strained, as if forced through clenched teeth. His bloodshot eyes blazed with fury and madness.

 

Zhou Hua was terrified by He Chen’s unhinged appearance, not daring to utter a word.

 

He Huan pursed his lips, meeting He Chen’s gaze without flinching. “Is there something important you need to tell me?”

 

“Is he really that important? Important enough for you to abandon me and refuse to answer my calls?”

 

“Calm down. First of all, I’ve told you countless times, it’s not about who’s more important. Zhou Hua and I already had plans. Second, I wasn’t ignoring your calls. I turned off my phone because you kept calling endlessly to ask pointless questions. Besides, since I’m out with Zhou Hua, I can’t just leave him hanging while I argue with you about something so trivial, can I?”

 

“In the end, you just think he’s more important than me, don’t you?”

 

“Can you stop being so unreasonable? I’ve said it countless times—it has nothing to do with who’s more important!”

 

“No, I can feel it. Now that you’ve found a wider horizon, you want to abandon me. I absolutely won’t allow it!”

 

He Huan grabbed He Chen’s arm. “Let’s go back and talk this out. Don’t make a scene here.”

 

He Chen’s voice was too loud. Almost everyone in the restaurant was staring at them.

 

Zhou Hua watched their retreating figures. As they reached the door, He Chen suddenly turned back and glared at him, his eyes filled with undisguised malice that sent a chill down Zhou Hua’s spine.

 

He didn’t dare call out to He Huan.

 

From that day on, he lost all contact with her.

 

Later, Zhou Hua mustered the courage to find the He Family’s address and witnessed He Huan, barely clinging to life, and He Chen being carried out of the villa.

 

Both were unconscious. He Huan was covered in blood, her emaciated wrist still tightly clasped in He Chen’s hand.

 

No one knew what had happened to them during that month.

 

Zhou Hua took a large gulp of water to calm himself. He couldn’t forget the crazed look in He Chen’s eyes, nor could he forget He Huan, covered in blood and on the brink of death.

 

For seven long years, these images had tormented him every single day.

 

After hearing Zhou Hua’s story, Liu Ying’s heart sank. He hadn’t been mistaken—He Chen was definitely troubled.

 

But he didn’t know how deeply rooted the problem was.

 

“I’ll go with you to find him. I have something to give him anyway.”

 

Zhou Hua hesitated.

 

“Is there a problem?”

 

“No problem. Let’s go together.”