Qin Shuang's jaw ached from his pinch as she tried to dodge and struggle, but just then, she had become so weak that she couldn't muster any strength.
When she raised her hand to push He Zhiyao away, it was feeble like tickling.
Only the defiance in her eyes shone brightly, signaling her unwillingness to compromise.
She bit her lip hard, fighting back the urge to cough, her face turning red from the effort, before she hoarsely spelled out, "I, want, to, go, home."
The chill in He Zhiyao's eyes seemed to materialize, dropping the surrounding temperature by several degrees.
He stared coldly at Qin Shuang's eyes, was silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a "heh" with a low chuckle.
Qin Shuang trembled at the sound of his laughter.
He Zhiyao released her jaw, stood up, grasped her wrist, and dragged her off the bed.
Qin Shuang was still feverish; when her feet hit the floor, it was like stepping on cotton, and she uncontrollably fell towards the ground.
But before she hit the floor, He Zhiyao's hand slipped under her armpit, dragging her out the door as she struggled with all her might, "Let me go, you..."
But He Zhiyao dragged her like hauling a piece of cargo, not sparing her a glance.
Unable to break free, it was almost instinctive for her to bite down on his arm.
She bit down hard, but he seemed utterly unfazed, not even slowing his pace, let alone the rhythm of his steps.
Not until he dragged her to the other end of the corridor, to the study, did he emotionlessly toss her onto the floor in front of the sofa, then turn to pick up a blue folder from the desk and approached Qin Shuang.
Qin Shuang watched him approach step by step, anxiously moving to the side but he quickly pulled her close.
He Zhiyao sat down on the sofa, pulling Qin Shuang by the collar to kneel on the floor, then slightly leaned over, his arm half-circling her shoulder and releasing her collar, seizing her chin.
His other hand opened the blue folder to reveal a white paper with a black-text agreement.
"Read it line by line, word for word, and see clearly what you are!"
"I have warned you before to be clear about your place."
"Remember, from head to toe, not even a single hair belongs to you. Who gave you the right to starve yourself?"
Qin Shuang's head buzzed, her vision swimming, but the words on the agreement jumped into her sight. She recognized every word, including the very familiar name at the end, the handwriting she knew all too well.
Yet the content of this agreement seemed like a cruel joke.
Thirty million; her mother had sold her to this man before her, He Zhiyao.
A man she had never met, a complete stranger.
No, no, it couldn't be...
Qin Shuang blinked once, then again.
Was she delirious from the fever, or were her eyes deceiving her?
It must be a lie?
It had to be fake.
It certainly was fake.
Thinking this, Qin Shuang unconsciously murmured aloud,
"Fake, this is fake..."
He Zhiyao, seeing her deceive herself, let out a low "heh" with exasperation, his already scant patience completely dissipated.
He slammed the folder onto the coffee table, forced Qin Shuang's chin up to meet his eyes, and said,
"Still not giving up, huh?"