Even though she had to reluctantly return to the Ji Family home every night, Wen Li was still very happy to have seen the sunlight again for the past few days. However, a single sentence from Ji Tingyang once again imprisoned her in a cage.
Those who have seen the light always find it hard to endure the darkness.
Wen Li might have had a gentle nature, but after Ji Tingyang left, she also threw a tantrum, smashing everything in the room that could be smashed.
She even refused to have dinner.
The butler, carrying the untouched dinner tray, came downstairs, trembling with trepidation, and said to Ji Tingyang, "Lady Wen won't open the door."
Ji Tingyang's face was frosty, and he got up coldly, his chair scraping against the marble floor with a sharp, grating noise.
The atmosphere in the living room turned to ice, as if one had fallen into an ice cellar, shivering uncontrollably.
The surrounding nannies and butlers dared not even breathe, doing their best to become invisible.
Ji Tingyang walked towards Wen Li's room, he twisted the doorknob, but it did not budge, locked from the inside.
Before he could say a word, something smashed against the door, and with a crash, pieces fell to the floor.
"Get lost!"
Wen Li's voice was choked with sobs, as she hysterically yelled.
"Tell Ji Tingyang that unless he lets me out tomorrow, I will starve myself!"
Ji Tingyang closed his lips that had been about to speak, half his body shrouded in the shadows of the light, his dark pupils growing even more somber and menacing.
He turned to the butler next to him and said, "Since she wants to starve herself, let her wish be granted; no one is allowed to bring her food!"
Having said that, he turned and went downstairs.
In less than a moment, the sound of a car's engine roared to life in the garage, and it drifted away from the villa, growing fainter and fainter.
In the club's private room, several men were cheerfully toasting to Ji Tingyang.
"President Ji actually chose not to stay at home with the beauty today, but joined us for drinks instead. This is indeed rare," one of them commented.
Everyone in the circle knew that Ji Tingyang kept a delicate flower at home, so bewitched was he that he hardly went to the office anymore, almost as if he feared she might run away; he stayed at home all day long.
Ji Tingyang ignored their teasing and didn't care about how strong the drinks were on the table, just picking them up and guzzling them down.
The burning sensation spread from his throat to his stomach and then throughout his body, as if it could numb the pain in his heart.
Ji Tingyang's expression gradually became vacant, and the exclamations of his good drinking capacity dissipated from his ears. He seemed to return to the afternoon when he first met Wen Li.
He was 16 then, and it had been nine years since his parents died. His aunt and uncle reluctantly took in the three siblings, lured by their father's substantial inheritance.
But that was barely enough to keep them from starving; there wasn't much more.
Every morning before the chauffeur took them to school, Ji Tingyang would see his aunt caressing her son's head with a loving expression, wishing him a happy, safe, and smooth day, and if she was in a good mood, she'd kiss his cheek too.
Every time he saw this scene, Ji Tingyang would miss the gentle visage of his own mother, and the sourness in his heart would churn, causing his eyes to redden before he hastily looked away.
His cousin was particularly resentful of them staying at his house and would pick on them on purpose.
He would hold back a bit at home, but outside, he was unrestrained.
One noon after school, Ji Tingyang was dragged into a corner of the academic building by this cousin and beaten up.
Although Ji Tingyang was lean, fighting back was easy for him, but he couldn't.
Because for every act of resistance, his cousin would seek retribution double-fold from his younger brother and sister at home, so Ji Tingyang could only endure it silently.
It didn't matter; he had grown accustomed to it. Once he came of age, he would take back the family inheritance, move out with his brother and sister, and everything would get better.
Ji Tingyang comforted himself with this thought, numbing his mind.
His vision gradually blurred, and his mind began to swirl with confusion.
"What are you doing! Stop it, or I'll call the teacher!"
The sweet voice, tinged with a barely perceptible tremble, rang out. The girl, who looked much younger than him, was clearly afraid, yet she bravely stepped forward.
"Mind your own business, or I'll hit you too," the cousin threatened fiercely.
The little girl clutched the straps of her backpack nervously, "I already told the teacher, he'll be here to catch you soon!"
Telling the teacher was shameful, but effective.
Teachers naturally intimidated students, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he turned and ran off.
Seeing the girl's subtle sigh of relief, Ji Tingyang knew her words were a lie.
He slowly got up from the ground, clutching his bruised arm, and made his way step by step toward the school gate.
The little girl followed behind him, chattering, "Hey, I helped you, don't I get even a thank you?"
"Your hand is hurt, are you going to go back like this? Your family will be worried."
Ji Tingyang paused, thought of his younger brother and sister, and for the first time, hesitation crossed his emotionless face.
The little girl bit her lip and mustered a second burst of courage, pulling him to sit down on a nearby stone staircase. Then she took several adhesive bandages out of her bag and patched up his wounds.
Ji Tingyang remained still, letting her fuss over him, his attention drawn to a mother and child by the roadside.
The little boy pointed at an ice cream shop, tugging at his mother's sleeve and whining, seemingly wanting some ice cream.
The mother squatted down, said something to him that made the boy laugh out loud, and he no longer begged for the ice cream.
The mother gently touched the boy's head, as if praising his good behavior, causing the boy to blush with a mix of pride and shyness.
Ji Tingyang's hand, which hung by his side, clenched involuntarily into a fist; the image of his mother was becoming blurrier, even the warm feeling of her caress in his memory was fading away.
He tried desperately to remember, to recapture that warm sensation of love, to grasp it tightly and never let go...
Suddenly.
A small hand landed on his head and gave it a gentle rub—the warmth he yearned for...
Ji Tingyang looked up, his dark pupils narrowing, fixated on the little girl before him.
The girl was startled by his ominous gaze, retracting her hand in fear and explaining cautiously, "I saw you looking over there with envy, I thought you might want someone to touch your head too, so I..."
Had she misunderstood?
How embarrassing.
Ji Tingyang stood up and grabbed her wrist forcefully, causing her to let out a soft hiss of pain.
He opened his mouth, straining his voice that had been silent for too long, to utter the first words she heard from him.
"What's your name?"
"Wen... Wen Li."
In the blink of an eye, the lonely, wounded boy had grown up into a grim and frightening man, keeping her captive in a luxurious villa.
He gripped her hands above her head, leaned down over her, and pinned her to the bed.
Another well-defined hand squeezed her neck, his eyes full of obsession and persistence, clinging to her like a demon.
"Wen Li, you'll never escape me in this lifetime."