Disgusting.
This was the sole thought that was constantly ringing like a death knell inside his mind as he walked through the streets, combing around the crowd of people on the sidewalk. Towering buildings on either side that deprived the entire area of natural sunlight. And since it was evening the flaXing neon lights made a sharp contrast to the monochrome filter that seemed to cover his vision. It left a pounding headache.
Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.
He quickened his pace, pulling down the hood of his jacked lower and finally reached the bus stop and desperately tried hard to ignore the close proximity of countless people around him who were also waiting for the bus to arrive.
Disgusting.
After waiting for another 15 minutes the bus pulled up. And with quick nimble steps he got into the bus, walking briskly through the aisle and sat down in the obscure seat at the end of the aile beside the window. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible; shrinking his neck lower and hunching his shoulders.
He was exuding the aura of extreme revulsion. Even the people around felt uncomfortable and suffocated. Thus, the seat beside him was left empty and no one approached. The bus pulled out of the stop and the blur of the scenes passed by the window. The dim lights of the bus were a sharp contrast to the bright flaXing lights outside on the streets.
The scene gradually changed into tightly spaced tall buildings and skyscrapers and thinned out into suburban areas with few trees and houses.
He did not know what he was feeling at this point. Everything felt unreal and seemed to be tinged with a layer of grime. Although the people gradually got down and the trees became thicker, everything in sight felt repulsive, the air and space felt contaminated with filth; which made breathing extremely painful. This suffocating feeling of falling into despair but feeling nothing at the same time made his mind hazy.
Disgusting disgusting disgusting disg—
"Hey, do you mind if I sit down?"
The sudden yet a soft voice that intruded his eardrums brought his thoughts to a screeching halt. He instinctively tilted his head to look up.
The face under the hood was extremely eye-catching. The kind of face you would turn your head around to take multiple looks at. The eyebrows were thin and elegantly arched along the fair face and seemed more soft and radiant. The lovely peach blossom amber eyes with a hue of orange that was hazy with confusion were slightly widened. High straight nose with full red lips. The youth was so good looking it felt like a blasphemy to stare for too long.
The girl that called out couldn't help but be startled at the sight of that otherworldly face, "umm… the other seats are occupied so...d-do you mind if I sit down?", she stuttered. And immediately flushed beet red.
Of course. Of course. Of course.
He turned to look out of the window and pulled his hood down lower like he didn't hear the girl talking just now.
Despite The girl immediately turning redder with embarrassment she still sat down cautiously.
It's the face it's the face it's the face it's the face it's the face
Slowly the number of passengers in the bus decreased further and further. And by the time the bus came to a screeching halt at the last stop Song Qingyuan was the only passenger inside the bus.
Fsssss—
He conscientiously got down and started walking towards a very dilapidated looking one story house. As he entered the house, although it was a far cry from luxurious, it was neat and tidy. It looked warm and cozy. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower at full blast, the high heat made his skin sting a little but he was not able to fully register the sensation as his mind wandered.
His thoughts were roaring like the waves and wrecking havoc. He desperately wished to end this. Various nauseating images flashed through his head like an old film reel getting unrolled. Garish furniture, scattered wine bottles of expensive wine, ugly faces distorted with lust and naked bodies invading.
He suddenly bent over and wretched. He vomited on the bathroom floor for a long time, his hands fisting painfully, the blue veins bulging and visible on the back of his thin fair hands. He was soon dry heaving until there was nothing more left in his stomach. But the bitter bile was still there in his throat.
His eyes were bloodshot, the tears seeping from the corners of his eyes. He squatted down and then slowly slumped against the wall. The hot water was still pounding in his skin and his clothes a soaking hot mess. But he felt a chill all the way to the depths of his bone marrow.
He shook his head and looked at the razor on the bathroom sink; eyes opaque and breathing short.
He could imagine the sensation of the blade slowly sinking into his skin, the gradual flow of blood. How the crimson flowing slowly along with the water on the bathroom floor would create a sharp contrast against the white marble floor. The gradual loss of light from his eyes and loss of the steady heartbeat inside his chest.
Crash!
The abrupt loud sound of something being toppled over by the sound of cats screeching brought him back to the present. His turbulent thoughts settled down followed by a quiet eerily suffocating; quiet as a grave. His eyes were as frozen and dark as the grave stone.
He remembered. He still remembered their faces. He would end it himself. Ruin them slowly and thoroughly. But for that he'd have to go back. Voluntarily go back into that beautiful prison. Caged like an animal at the mercy of hypocrites that were even worse than beasts…
But even if he had to trade his soul he would still do it.
***
A man in an expensive dark suit sat on the couch holding a glass of wine. He took a long drag on the filters of a black cigarette. Abruptly, there was a loud knock on the door. He slowly breathed out the smoke, "come in." He said as he lazily sipped on the wine.
A man dressed in a plain black shirt entered. His features were rough like someone involved with the yakuzas. You could see a black and blue spider tattoo on the left side of his neck, two of its spindly limbs reaching his jaw, "Master, that boy, he's gone," he said in a deep hoarse voice.
Cai Minsheng 's face suddenly darkened his gaze cold, "What do you mean gone?" Although he was good looking, his deep set eyes made his face seem fierce.
The other man visibly stiffened, "Master, his place is empty, his number does not exist anymore and nobody knows where he went. It is like he simply vanished into thin air." He replied with his head lowered.
Cai Minsheng abruptly got up and threw the wine glass towards the guard's face, barely missing it by an inch and smashing against the closed mahogany door. An imperceptible red line blossomed on his skin. "Find him. Whatever you have to do."
The guard quickly agreed and left. Cai Minsheng turned and sat down on the couch again. As soon as the guard left two servants entered; one of them immediately started to clean up the glass shards and spilled wine and the other poured a new glass of wine. Cai Minsheng grabbed the glass and waved his hand to dismiss the servants. They left after giving a low bow.
Cai Minsheng sipped on the wine and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the cushion, "You have nowhere to run." Cai Minsheng said in a low voice which carried infinite malice.