Ye Rou was going mad without Zhong Qing, though he couldn't quite understand why. Zhong Qing had always been there, hovering like a loyal dog, always eager to please, always eager to help. It irritated Ye Rou to no end, the way Zhong Qing was constantly underfoot, always watching him with those expectant eyes, waiting for a command, a sign of approval—anything to show he mattered. That constant presence, that relentless loyalty—it had been suffocating, annoying, a reminder of something Ye Rou didn't want to acknowledge.
And yet, now that Zhong Qing was gone, the silence was unbearable.
The night Zhong Qing went missing had begun like any other. The sun was still up, casting long, golden shadows across the room, and the air was thick with the heat of the day. It was supposed to be a quiet evening, just like the ones before it, with Ye Rou immersed in his thoughts and Zhong Qing hovering nearby, ever the devoted follower.
But something in the atmosphere had been off, a tension that neither of them could quite shake. It had been brewing for days, maybe even weeks, a subtle shift in the way they spoke to each other, the way Zhong Qing's eyes lingered on Ye Rou for a fraction too long, the way Ye Rou's patience frayed at the edges whenever Zhong Qing was near.
The argument started out of nowhere, as these things often do. A sharp word, a careless remark, and suddenly the air between them was charged, crackling with the energy of suppressed emotions.
"You are too obsessed with him!" Zhong Qing's voice cut through the quiet, laced with frustration and something more—a deep-seated resentment that had finally found its voice. He was standing just a few feet away from Ye Rou, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and hurt, his chest rising and falling with the force of his emotions.
Ye Rou froze, the words striking him like a physical blow. His mind raced, trying to process what Zhong Qing had just said, but all he could feel was a sudden rush of anger, hot and overwhelming. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, and before he knew it, he had grabbed the nearest object—a heavy glass paperweight—and hurled it across the room. The crash of shattering glass echoed through the space, as the paperweight slammed against the wall, scattering shards across the floor.
"I am not!" Ye Rou shouted, his voice raw, almost desperate. His chest was heaving, his heart pounding against his ribcage as if trying to escape the turmoil inside. He stared at the broken glass on the floor, a metaphor for the fragile balance they had both been walking on for so long.
Zhong Qing flinched at the sound, his own anger momentarily overshadowed by the shock of Ye Rou's outburst. He had expected a reaction, but not this—never this. He took a step back, his expression softening, his own anger melting into something far more painful.
"You don't even realize it, do you?" Zhong Qing's voice was quieter now, tinged with sadness as he looked at Ye Rou, really looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. "You're obsessed with him, even now. He's all you see, all you think about. And I... I'm just here, standing in his shadow, always waiting for you to notice me."
Ye Rou turned his back to him, unable to face the truth in Zhong Qing's words. His hands were trembling, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He wanted to lash out, to deny it, but the words stuck in his throat, leaving him feeling helpless and exposed. "Just stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between them. They stood there, just a few feet apart, yet feeling miles away from each other. Zhong Qing's shoulders slumped, defeated, as he realized that there was nothing left to say.
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Ye Rou alone in the gathering darkness. It wasn't even night yet, but for Ye Rou, it felt like the sun had already set.
That night, neither of them slept. They stayed in separate rooms, the echoes of their argument replaying in their minds. When Ye Rou finally emerged the next morning, Zhong Qing was gone.
Ye Rou initially thought Zhong Qing had left him. The emptiness in the room, the absence of that familiar presence—it all pointed to the possibility that Zhong Qing had finally reached his breaking point and walked away. The thought infuriated him, the idea that Zhong Qing could simply leave after everything they had been through. Ye Rou's anger simmered, fueled by the sense of betrayal, but there was also something else—something he wasn't ready to acknowledge. A deep, unsettling fear that he had lost the one person who had been truly loyal to him.
But soon, the truth began to surface, pieced together through the whispers of his informants and the scattered clues left behind. It wasn't that Zhong Qing had left; he had been taken. By Luan Xie and He Shun, no less. The revelation hit Ye Rou like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. It was one thing to lose Zhong Qing to his own choice, but to know he had been stolen away, ripped from his side by the very person Ye Rou despised—it was unbearable.
The fury that followed was white-hot, consuming him from the inside out. How dare they take Zhong Qing? How dare they use him as a pawn in their twisted game? Ye Rou's mind raced with thoughts of revenge, of making Luan Xie and He Shun pay for what they had done. But beneath the rage, there was a gnawing sense of desperation. He needed Zhong Qing back, needed to set things right before it was too late.
Hours passed in a blur, each one more agonizing than the last. Ye Rou could hardly focus on anything other than the burning need to find Zhong Qing. He was willing to trade everything—power, wealth, the bracelet—if it meant bringing him back. Nothing else mattered anymore.
Finally, the call he had been waiting for came. The sound of his phone ringing jolted him out of his thoughts, his heart pounding as he answered. The voice on the other end was cold, emotionless, as if this was just another business transaction.
"We have what you want," the voice said. "Meet us at the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Bring the bracelet."
Ye Rou's grip tightened on the phone. "And if I don't?" he challenged, though he already knew the answer.
"You'll never see him again," came the reply, as cold and final as the snap of a closing door.
The line went dead, and Ye Rou stood there for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand. There was no choice, not really. He grabbed the bracelet, the one thing he had sworn to never part with, and slipped it into his pocket. As he left his home, his mind was a storm of emotions—anger, fear, and something that felt alarmingly like regret.
When he arrived at the warehouse, the tension in the air was palpable. The place was as desolate and eerie as he had expected, the shadows long and menacing in the dim light. He could feel his heart racing as he approached the building, his instincts screaming at him that something wasn't right.
Inside, Luan Xie and He Shun were waiting, their expressions unreadable as they watched him approach. Ye Rou's eyes narrowed as he met their gaze, his entire body tensed like a coiled spring.
"Where is he?" Ye Rou demanded, not bothering with pleasantries. His voice was sharp, each word laced with barely contained fury.
He Shun stepped forward, his expression troubled. "There's something you need to know," he began, hesitating slightly as he glanced at Luan Xie.
A cold sense of dread washed over Ye Rou. "What?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Where is Zhong Qing?"
Luan Xie finally spoke, his tone measured, almost apologetic. "We don't have him."
Ye Rou's blood ran cold, his heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean, you don't have him?" His voice was rising, the calm he had been trying to maintain rapidly slipping away.
"He was taken from us," He Shun admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "They took him before we could do anything."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the ground shifting beneath Ye Rou's feet. He stared at them, trying to comprehend what they were saying, but it felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up.
"You lied to me," Ye Rou said, his voice shaking with barely restrained rage. "You used me."
"We didn't have a choice," Luan Xie shot back, his own frustration evident. "We thought we could use him to get what we needed, but... things didn't go as planned."
Ye Rou felt the anger boiling over, the last thread of his control snapping. He took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "You used Zhong Qing as bait, and now he's gone because of you!"
"He's not gone," He Shun tried to reason, though he looked as panicked as Ye Rou felt. "We'll find him, I swear. But we need to work together if we're going to get him back."
Ye Rou stared at them, his vision blurred with rage and something darker—something that felt dangerously close to despair. He had come here ready to trade everything for Zhong Qing, and now... now he didn't even know where he was.
"Why should I trust you?" Ye Rou's voice was cold, each word like a dagger. "You took him away from me!"
"Because we don't have a choice," Luan Xie said, his voice as hard as steel. "If we don't find Zhong Qing, none of us are getting out of this alive."
The truth of those words hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the stakes they were all playing for. Ye Rou's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, his heart torn between the fury he felt towards these two men and the desperate need to find Zhong Qing before it was too late.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ye Rou nodded, though his eyes were still burning with anger. "Fine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But if anything happens to him, you'll both regret it."
Luan Xie and He Shun exchanged a look, one that spoke of shared resolve and the weight of the situation they found themselves in. They knew this alliance was fragile, built on the shaky foundation of mutual desperation and the need to survive.
But for now, it was all they had.