Song Yuzhang: Chapter 159 - Ill-Fated
Chapter 159: Ill-Fated
Once the storeroom door on the ship was shut, the light immediately dimmed. Sunlight streamed through the cracks between the wooden planks, turning the cramped space into a scene like a body pierced by ten thousand arrows of light.
Song Yuzhang was not actually as weak as he appeared. He had only put on that act deliberately, hoping to lower Fu Mian’s guard a little.
Bracing one hand against the haystack, Song Yuzhang dragged his injured leg and forced himself to stand. As long as he could walk, he refused to crawl. Just those few short steps made cold sweat pour down his body. He moved closer to Xiao Fengxian and first lifted his hair. Xiao Fengxian’s hair had grown a bit long, tangled, and knotted. Song Yuzhang reached out to smooth it, but could not comb it free.
His gaze traveled downward along the white robe. Crisscrossing marks covered it—bloody welts left by the lash. Song Yuzhang gently pulled the robe aside and glanced inside, then could not bear to look any longer.
That once well-proportioned and beautiful body was torn open, new wounds layered over old ones, almost not a single patch of intact skin left.
Song Yuzhang felt utterly lost. At this moment, he felt nothing at all—only confusion.
Did Fu Mian really hate him this much?
What had Xiao Fengxian done wrong?
All his life he had only sought freedom and ease, yet now an innocent, lovely young man had to suffer such torment because of him?
Song Yuzhang slowly sat down. He supported Xiao Fengxian’s shoulders and laid his head on his own thigh, speaking softly, “Xiao Fengxian?”
Xiao Fengxian was unconscious, eyes tightly shut, lips split and cracked. That once delicate face was now so thin it was little more than a frame.
“Fengxian?” Song Yuzhang called gently again.
The Xiao Fengxian in his arms seemed to sense something; his brow twitched slightly. Song Yuzhang continued, “Fengxian, wake up.”
After calling three or five times, Xiao Fengxian suddenly began to tremble in his arms. At first the shaking was light, then it abruptly intensified. Xiao Fengxian convulsed and rolled twice in his arms.
“Fengxian—Fengxian—”
The hoarse, wailing cry stabbed at Song Yuzhang’s ears. With his eyes still shut, Xiao Fengxian actually sprang out of his arms, thrashing and dodging across the floor like a fish dropped into boiling oil. His disheveled hair was tangled with bits of straw, his appearance bordering on madness.
Song Yuzhang’s hands were still frozen in the posture of holding him. He stared blankly at Xiao Fengxian and suddenly realized that Xiao Fengxian was “dodging the whip.”
Dragging his injured leg, Song Yuzhang went over and pressed him down.
“Fengxian, wake up, Fengxian. It’s me. Don’t be afraid—it’s me…”
Song Yuzhang lay prone on the ground, both arms wrapped tightly around the thrashing Xiao Fengxian.
Xiao Fengxian seemed to have little strength left. After struggling for a while, he began to sob weakly. Song Yuzhang pushed himself up, watching him closely. “Fengxian…”
Xiao Fengxian was still crying, but no tears came out—only dry, rasping wails.
Song Yuzhang’s heart ached beyond endurance. He pulled him back into his arms again, stroking him as he murmured, “It’s all right, Fengxian. I’m here. It’s all right now…”
After an unknown amount of time, Xiao Fengxian finally began to calm down.
Song Yuzhang carefully brushed aside the tangled hair from his face. His gaze lowered from Xiao Fengxian’s grimy forehead, and he met a pair of vacant eyes.
Those eyes were clouded and dull. The light that once captivated hearts with a single coquettish glance on stage had vanished without a trace. The pupils looked like glass beads dropped into a mud pit, staring fixedly at Song Yuzhang.
“Fengxian,” Song Yuzhang said, aching with pity and pain, “it’s me.”
Xiao Fengxian still stared blankly. Song Yuzhang’s clothes were relatively clean; he grasped his own sleeve and gently wiped the grime from Xiao Fengxian’s face bit by bit. When he reached his mouth, Xiao Fengxian suddenly opened his mouth and bit down on the web of Song Yuzhang’s hand.
A piercing pain shot from the bite straight into his chest. Song Yuzhang suppressed the urge to cough and held perfectly still, enduring it.
Xiao Fengxian bit him for a long time, almost tearing a piece of flesh from his hand.
“It’s me, Fengxian,” Song Yuzhang said, his face burning with pain as he forced calm into his voice. “It’s real. This isn’t a dream.”
Xiao Fengxian’s body trembled, and his jaws slowly loosened.
The flesh between Song Yuzhang’s thumb and forefinger was mangled and bloody, his hand trembling slightly. He wiped away the blood on his clothes and continued cleaning the grime from Xiao Fengxian’s face.
There were traces of blood on Xiao Fengxian’s parched lips, bright red and still horribly unhealthy. Song Yuzhang pressed them gently with his sleeve, his gaze filled with the utmost tenderness as he looked at Xiao Fengxian’s gaunt, distorted face. Xiao Fengxian’s eyes still did not move, devoid of any vitality.
Song Yuzhang did not know what to say. He only lowered his head and kissed Xiao Fengxian’s brow.
At that kiss, Xiao Fengxian shuddered again in his arms. His two thin, withered arms emerged from his sleeves and shoved Song Yuzhang hard. Xiao Fengxian leapt out of his arms once more.
He seemed to have fully grasped the situation now, limping as he went to pound on the surrounding wooden planks. Like a grief-stricken, helpless child, he struck them hysterically with all his strength. Yet there was no response from outside—not the slightest response at all. Only the sunlight in the cracks twisted and warped under his blows.
Song Yuzhang half lay against the haystack, blood seeping again from his leg. He gently closed his eyes, sinking into a world more painful than any physical beating.
At last, he understood Fu Mian’s intent.
Fu Mian was torturing him.
Using this battered, scar-covered Xiao Fengxian.
The pounding grew louder and louder, showing no sign of stopping. Song Yuzhang opened his eyes again and realized that Xiao Fengxian was ramming his shoulder into the boards. That thin, elongated figure crashed upward again and again, fresh streaks of blood instantly appearing on the white robe.
Song Yuzhang went over and pulled Xiao Fengxian into his arms just as he was about to smash himself into the wooden planks once more.
Xiao Fengxian struggled violently. No matter what Song Yuzhang said or how he tried to persuade him, he fought with all his might. When Song Yuzhang refused to let go, Xiao Fengxian bit him, clawed at him, and kicked him.
Song Yuzhang was soon completely drained of strength. Fortunately, Xiao Fengxian, too, finally had not an ounce of energy left.
Song Yuzhang carried Xiao Fengxian back to the soft haystack. In his arms, Xiao Fengxian trembled and convulsed, panting with the coarse, ragged breaths of a wild animal.
Song Yuzhang did not know what kind of inhuman torment could have reduced the once lively, endearing young man to this state. He only felt heartache—heartache beyond words.
When the last trace of light outside the storeroom vanished, the door was opened.
“Well now,” Fu Mian said as he looked at the two clinging to each other, smiling. “What a pair of ill-fated lovers.”
Xiao Fengxian, who had been relatively calm, suddenly sprang out of Song Yuzhang’s arms the instant he heard Fu Mian’s voice.
“Hold him down.”
Two men stepped forward and pinned Xiao Fengxian in place.
Fu Mian held an oil lamp in his hand. Its dim, gentle glow swayed as Song Yuzhang lifted his face and watched Fu Mian walk toward him.
“A-Mian,” Song Yuzhang said calmly.
Fu Mian’s expression shifted slightly. “You really never learn.”
“After all, you won’t kill me,” Song Yuzhang replied.
Fu Mian smiled faintly. “That’s right. I really can’t bear to kill you. So you’re trying to provoke me, to draw my attention onto yourself? Zhu Qing, I told you—don’t take me for a fool.”
“Of course you’re not a fool,” Song Yuzhang said indifferently. “I wouldn’t have been caught by a fool.”
“Is that supposed to be flattery?” Fu Mian asked.
“Your understanding of flattery is a bit off,” Song Yuzhang cast him a sidelong glance. “Back then, when I said you were cute—that was flattery.”
Fu Mian’s expression did not change. A faint smile rippled in his eyes as he said softly, “Zhu Qing, I like the way you crack jokes. It’s very entertaining.”
“But today we still have business to attend to, so let’s not reminisce,” Fu Mian raised an eyebrow. “Well? Any interest in putting on this little performance for me?”
Pain and numbness spread through Song Yuzhang’s chest, yet he forced himself to remain calm.
Fu Mian wanted nothing more than to torment him indirectly by torturing Xiao Fengxian.
This was, in fact, a good sign.
Where there is no desire, there is strength.
Fu Mian still desired him. Whether it was love or hatred, desire was a weakness—and one that could be exploited.
The best course would be for him to remain unmoved no matter what Fu Mian did to Xiao Fengxian.
If he showed even a trace of pain or pity, he, too, would expose a weakness, and Xiao Fengxian would only suffer even more.
But if he remained completely indifferent, Xiao Fengxian’s fate might be death.
How to keep Xiao Fengxian alive, yet not let him become a tool used against him for further humiliation—the balance required was perhaps harder to strike than any con Song Yuzhang had ever pulled.
“I don’t have that kind of relationship with him,” Song Yuzhang said.
Fu Mian nodded slightly. “That’s what he said, too.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “So you mean to have someone else take your place?”
Song Yuzhang’s chest tightened. With a cold expression, he said, “He’s just an actor I once supported. I find people like him dirty. Do whatever you want with him—I don’t care. Just don’t do it in front of me. I don’t want to see it.” Song Yuzhang raised his eyes to Fu Mian and smiled faintly. “If you really want to make me happy, you could do it yourself. I remember you used to be very fair-skinned. Oh, what a pity—that was in the past. You’re quite dark now. Not very appetizing to look at.”
Fu Mian’s smile remained fixed at the same angle, making it impossible to tell what he was feeling. Light flickered in his eyes—whether it was anger or cold cruelty, no one could say.
“Did you hear that?” Fu Mian said, looking at Song Yuzhang, though his face tilted slightly toward Xiao Fengxian. “There isn’t a shred of you in his heart.”
Xiao Fengxian lay on the ground, motionless, as if dead.
Fu Mian crooked his finger. “Bring him over.”
Xiao Fengxian was hauled in front of Song Yuzhang. Song Yuzhang turned his gaze aside.
Fu Mian bent down and brought the oil lamp closer. The dim yellow light illuminated his face brightly, flames flickering in his phoenix eyes. He reached out and grabbed Xiao Fengxian by the throat.
Xiao Fengxian did not move at all, offering not the slightest resistance as he was dragged a little closer to Song Yuzhang.
Fu Mian stared into Song Yuzhang’s eyes and said softly, “He told me you were friends. I was very curious—what kind of friends hide someone’s photograph in a necklace and wear it close to the body? Just like you, his mouth wasn’t honest—hardly a word of truth. I questioned him several times before he finally admitted there was a bit of ambiguity between you. So I asked him what that ‘bit of ambiguity’ meant.”
Fu Mian handed the oil lamp to the attendant behind him, then used his free hand to grip Song Yuzhang’s chin and forcibly turn his face.
Dried blood stained Xiao Fengxian’s parched lips, giving them an eerie hint of vivid red.
“He said,” Fu Mian suddenly tightened his grip, and Xiao Fengxian cried out in pain as his mouth was forced open, “that he kissed you.”
Inside Xiao Fengxian’s mouth were two rows of snow-white teeth and a tongue that had once been nimble, capable of kissing— the teeth were still there, but the tongue was gone.
The empty, pitch-black throat was like a cave with no visible exit. Song Yuzhang’s gaze stuck there, his mind buzzing. In that instant, all the carefully laid schemes and calculations he had prepared were crushed to dust. In his eyes, there was only Xiao Fengxian’s pitiful throat, unable to make a sound.
“But since you don’t like him, then forget it,” Fu Mian said, releasing his grip on Xiao Fengxian’s neck and speaking gently. “Zhu Qing says he doesn’t like watching, so you can take him outside and get it done. I’ve gotten dark myself—hardly appetizing to look at anymore—so I ought to make up for it by being more agreeable in temperament.” Fu Mian turned his head and smiled at Song Yuzhang. “Don’t you think so?”
Song Yuzhang said nothing. He noticed that Xiao Fengxian was conscious again; those eyes revealed a numb, lifeless hatred. He hated Fu Mian, and he hated Song Yuzhang as well.
That hatred surged through Song Yuzhang’s heart like a violent current, leaving it numb.
“You say you don’t want to watch, yet your eyes haven’t blinked once. What hypocrisy.”
Fu Mian said with a smile. His gaze never left Song Yuzhang’s face, savoring every muscle, every inch of skin, refusing to miss even the slightest shift in expression. “Then again, who wouldn’t want to watch the deflowering of Haizhou’s famous leading actor? Strip him.”
“Yes!”
Without a trace of emotion, the two attendants tore off the white robe from Xiao Fengxian’s body.
Fu Mian’s eyes remained fixed on Song Yuzhang, a hidden excitement flickering across his face. “Do him.”
Song Yuzhang watched as Xiao Fengxian was forced to the ground, his legs yanked high like an animal’s. Those legs were straight and slender, trained for over a decade—capable of perfect splits, horizontal or vertical.
“Stop…”
Song Yuzhang said, his lips trembling.
No one listened. An attendant was already unfastening Xiao Fengxian’s trousers.
“Stop!”
Song Yuzhang raised his voice and suddenly lunged forward, slamming into the man holding Xiao Fengxian’s legs and knocking him to the ground. He threw himself over Xiao Fengxian, shielding him completely beneath his body.
At Fu Mian’s signal, the fallen man retreated.
“Don’t touch him…” Song Yuzhang wrapped his arms tightly around Xiao Fengxian, suppressing the faint tremor in his voice. “Whatever you want to do, do it to me.”
Fu Mian’s voice came from above, flat and indifferent. “You mean you’re willing to serve my two subordinates in his place?”
“Yes,” Song Yuzhang answered without hesitation.
The moment the words left his mouth, Xiao Fengxian convulsed beneath him. Song Yuzhang held him tighter. In Xiao Fengxian’s struggle, their eyes met—countless unspoken words seemed to pass between them. Xiao Fengxian blinked once, and a tear like blood slid down his cheek.
His lips moved slightly. Song Yuzhang read them clearly.
“I’m sorry.”
Song Yuzhang’s eyes burned. In the next instant, he was yanked up and dragged back into Fu Mian’s grasp.
All warmth vanished from Fu Mian’s face; the cold there was absolute. “Good. Very good. How touching. I thought you were a heartless bastard—turns out you’re just heartless toward me…”
He shoved Song Yuzhang violently onto the hay pile, grinding his teeth. “Since you’re so eager to debase yourself, I’ll grant your wish!”
“Get out! All of you!”
The attendants hurriedly dragged Xiao Fengxian away, but Xiao Fengxian suddenly burst out with strength, kicking and wailing, his legs thrashing as he refused to be taken.
Song Yuzhang could summon no schemes, no calculations. He pressed a hand to his itching, aching lungs and said hoarsely, “Don’t hurt him. If you want to beat someone or kill someone, come at me. Every wrong has its owner, every debt its debtor. Fu Mian, don’t be such a spineless coward—don’t make me despise you.”
Fu Mian nodded as he laughed. “Just as I thought—a slut who’s begging to be fucked.” He stepped forward and grabbed Song Yuzhang by the throat, his eyes icy as they bored into Song Yuzhang’s misted gaze. “Remember this—you brought it on yourself.”
Once the storeroom door on the ship was shut, the light immediately dimmed. Sunlight streamed through the cracks between the wooden planks, turning the cramped space into a scene like a body pierced by ten thousand arrows of light.
Song Yuzhang was not actually as weak as he appeared. He had only put on that act deliberately, hoping to lower Fu Mian’s guard a little.
Bracing one hand against the haystack, Song Yuzhang dragged his injured leg and forced himself to stand. As long as he could walk, he refused to crawl. Just those few short steps made cold sweat pour down his body. He moved closer to Xiao Fengxian and first lifted his hair. Xiao Fengxian’s hair had grown a bit long, tangled, and knotted. Song Yuzhang reached out to smooth it, but could not comb it free.
His gaze traveled downward along the white robe. Crisscrossing marks covered it—bloody welts left by the lash. Song Yuzhang gently pulled the robe aside and glanced inside, then could not bear to look any longer.
That once well-proportioned and beautiful body was torn open, new wounds layered over old ones, almost not a single patch of intact skin left.
Song Yuzhang felt utterly lost. At this moment, he felt nothing at all—only confusion.
Did Fu Mian really hate him this much?
What had Xiao Fengxian done wrong?
All his life he had only sought freedom and ease, yet now an innocent, lovely young man had to suffer such torment because of him?
Song Yuzhang slowly sat down. He supported Xiao Fengxian’s shoulders and laid his head on his own thigh, speaking softly, “Xiao Fengxian?”
Xiao Fengxian was unconscious, eyes tightly shut, lips split and cracked. That once delicate face was now so thin it was little more than a frame.
“Fengxian?” Song Yuzhang called gently again.
The Xiao Fengxian in his arms seemed to sense something; his brow twitched slightly. Song Yuzhang continued, “Fengxian, wake up.”
After calling three or five times, Xiao Fengxian suddenly began to tremble in his arms. At first the shaking was light, then it abruptly intensified. Xiao Fengxian convulsed and rolled twice in his arms.
“Fengxian—Fengxian—”
The hoarse, wailing cry stabbed at Song Yuzhang’s ears. With his eyes still shut, Xiao Fengxian actually sprang out of his arms, thrashing and dodging across the floor like a fish dropped into boiling oil. His disheveled hair was tangled with bits of straw, his appearance bordering on madness.
Song Yuzhang’s hands were still frozen in the posture of holding him. He stared blankly at Xiao Fengxian and suddenly realized that Xiao Fengxian was “dodging the whip.”
Dragging his injured leg, Song Yuzhang went over and pressed him down.
“Fengxian, wake up, Fengxian. It’s me. Don’t be afraid—it’s me…”
Song Yuzhang lay prone on the ground, both arms wrapped tightly around the thrashing Xiao Fengxian.
Xiao Fengxian seemed to have little strength left. After struggling for a while, he began to sob weakly. Song Yuzhang pushed himself up, watching him closely. “Fengxian…”
Xiao Fengxian was still crying, but no tears came out—only dry, rasping wails.
Song Yuzhang’s heart ached beyond endurance. He pulled him back into his arms again, stroking him as he murmured, “It’s all right, Fengxian. I’m here. It’s all right now…”
After an unknown amount of time, Xiao Fengxian finally began to calm down.
Song Yuzhang carefully brushed aside the tangled hair from his face. His gaze lowered from Xiao Fengxian’s grimy forehead, and he met a pair of vacant eyes.
Those eyes were clouded and dull. The light that once captivated hearts with a single coquettish glance on stage had vanished without a trace. The pupils looked like glass beads dropped into a mud pit, staring fixedly at Song Yuzhang.
“Fengxian,” Song Yuzhang said, aching with pity and pain, “it’s me.”
Xiao Fengxian still stared blankly. Song Yuzhang’s clothes were relatively clean; he grasped his own sleeve and gently wiped the grime from Xiao Fengxian’s face bit by bit. When he reached his mouth, Xiao Fengxian suddenly opened his mouth and bit down on the web of Song Yuzhang’s hand.
A piercing pain shot from the bite straight into his chest. Song Yuzhang suppressed the urge to cough and held perfectly still, enduring it.
Xiao Fengxian bit him for a long time, almost tearing a piece of flesh from his hand.
“It’s me, Fengxian,” Song Yuzhang said, his face burning with pain as he forced calm into his voice. “It’s real. This isn’t a dream.”
Xiao Fengxian’s body trembled, and his jaws slowly loosened.
The flesh between Song Yuzhang’s thumb and forefinger was mangled and bloody, his hand trembling slightly. He wiped away the blood on his clothes and continued cleaning the grime from Xiao Fengxian’s face.
There were traces of blood on Xiao Fengxian’s parched lips, bright red and still horribly unhealthy. Song Yuzhang pressed them gently with his sleeve, his gaze filled with the utmost tenderness as he looked at Xiao Fengxian’s gaunt, distorted face. Xiao Fengxian’s eyes still did not move, devoid of any vitality.
Song Yuzhang did not know what to say. He only lowered his head and kissed Xiao Fengxian’s brow.
At that kiss, Xiao Fengxian shuddered again in his arms. His two thin, withered arms emerged from his sleeves and shoved Song Yuzhang hard. Xiao Fengxian leapt out of his arms once more.
He seemed to have fully grasped the situation now, limping as he went to pound on the surrounding wooden planks. Like a grief-stricken, helpless child, he struck them hysterically with all his strength. Yet there was no response from outside—not the slightest response at all. Only the sunlight in the cracks twisted and warped under his blows.
Song Yuzhang half lay against the haystack, blood seeping again from his leg. He gently closed his eyes, sinking into a world more painful than any physical beating.
At last, he understood Fu Mian’s intent.
Fu Mian was torturing him.
Using this battered, scar-covered Xiao Fengxian.
The pounding grew louder and louder, showing no sign of stopping. Song Yuzhang opened his eyes again and realized that Xiao Fengxian was ramming his shoulder into the boards. That thin, elongated figure crashed upward again and again, fresh streaks of blood instantly appearing on the white robe.
Song Yuzhang went over and pulled Xiao Fengxian into his arms just as he was about to smash himself into the wooden planks once more.
Xiao Fengxian struggled violently. No matter what Song Yuzhang said or how he tried to persuade him, he fought with all his might. When Song Yuzhang refused to let go, Xiao Fengxian bit him, clawed at him, and kicked him.
Song Yuzhang was soon completely drained of strength. Fortunately, Xiao Fengxian, too, finally had not an ounce of energy left.
Song Yuzhang carried Xiao Fengxian back to the soft haystack. In his arms, Xiao Fengxian trembled and convulsed, panting with the coarse, ragged breaths of a wild animal.
Song Yuzhang did not know what kind of inhuman torment could have reduced the once lively, endearing young man to this state. He only felt heartache—heartache beyond words.
When the last trace of light outside the storeroom vanished, the door was opened.
“Well now,” Fu Mian said as he looked at the two clinging to each other, smiling. “What a pair of ill-fated lovers.”
Xiao Fengxian, who had been relatively calm, suddenly sprang out of Song Yuzhang’s arms the instant he heard Fu Mian’s voice.
“Hold him down.”
Two men stepped forward and pinned Xiao Fengxian in place.
Fu Mian held an oil lamp in his hand. Its dim, gentle glow swayed as Song Yuzhang lifted his face and watched Fu Mian walk toward him.
“A-Mian,” Song Yuzhang said calmly.
Fu Mian’s expression shifted slightly. “You really never learn.”
“After all, you won’t kill me,” Song Yuzhang replied.
Fu Mian smiled faintly. “That’s right. I really can’t bear to kill you. So you’re trying to provoke me, to draw my attention onto yourself? Zhu Qing, I told you—don’t take me for a fool.”
“Of course you’re not a fool,” Song Yuzhang said indifferently. “I wouldn’t have been caught by a fool.”
“Is that supposed to be flattery?” Fu Mian asked.
“Your understanding of flattery is a bit off,” Song Yuzhang cast him a sidelong glance. “Back then, when I said you were cute—that was flattery.”
Fu Mian’s expression did not change. A faint smile rippled in his eyes as he said softly, “Zhu Qing, I like the way you crack jokes. It’s very entertaining.”
“But today we still have business to attend to, so let’s not reminisce,” Fu Mian raised an eyebrow. “Well? Any interest in putting on this little performance for me?”
Pain and numbness spread through Song Yuzhang’s chest, yet he forced himself to remain calm.
Fu Mian wanted nothing more than to torment him indirectly by torturing Xiao Fengxian.
This was, in fact, a good sign.
Where there is no desire, there is strength.
Fu Mian still desired him. Whether it was love or hatred, desire was a weakness—and one that could be exploited.
The best course would be for him to remain unmoved no matter what Fu Mian did to Xiao Fengxian.
If he showed even a trace of pain or pity, he, too, would expose a weakness, and Xiao Fengxian would only suffer even more.
But if he remained completely indifferent, Xiao Fengxian’s fate might be death.
How to keep Xiao Fengxian alive, yet not let him become a tool used against him for further humiliation—the balance required was perhaps harder to strike than any con Song Yuzhang had ever pulled.
“I don’t have that kind of relationship with him,” Song Yuzhang said.
Fu Mian nodded slightly. “That’s what he said, too.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “So you mean to have someone else take your place?”
Song Yuzhang’s chest tightened. With a cold expression, he said, “He’s just an actor I once supported. I find people like him dirty. Do whatever you want with him—I don’t care. Just don’t do it in front of me. I don’t want to see it.” Song Yuzhang raised his eyes to Fu Mian and smiled faintly. “If you really want to make me happy, you could do it yourself. I remember you used to be very fair-skinned. Oh, what a pity—that was in the past. You’re quite dark now. Not very appetizing to look at.”
Fu Mian’s smile remained fixed at the same angle, making it impossible to tell what he was feeling. Light flickered in his eyes—whether it was anger or cold cruelty, no one could say.
“Did you hear that?” Fu Mian said, looking at Song Yuzhang, though his face tilted slightly toward Xiao Fengxian. “There isn’t a shred of you in his heart.”
Xiao Fengxian lay on the ground, motionless, as if dead.
Fu Mian crooked his finger. “Bring him over.”
Xiao Fengxian was hauled in front of Song Yuzhang. Song Yuzhang turned his gaze aside.
Fu Mian bent down and brought the oil lamp closer. The dim yellow light illuminated his face brightly, flames flickering in his phoenix eyes. He reached out and grabbed Xiao Fengxian by the throat.
Xiao Fengxian did not move at all, offering not the slightest resistance as he was dragged a little closer to Song Yuzhang.
Fu Mian stared into Song Yuzhang’s eyes and said softly, “He told me you were friends. I was very curious—what kind of friends hide someone’s photograph in a necklace and wear it close to the body? Just like you, his mouth wasn’t honest—hardly a word of truth. I questioned him several times before he finally admitted there was a bit of ambiguity between you. So I asked him what that ‘bit of ambiguity’ meant.”
Fu Mian handed the oil lamp to the attendant behind him, then used his free hand to grip Song Yuzhang’s chin and forcibly turn his face.
Dried blood stained Xiao Fengxian’s parched lips, giving them an eerie hint of vivid red.
“He said,” Fu Mian suddenly tightened his grip, and Xiao Fengxian cried out in pain as his mouth was forced open, “that he kissed you.”
Inside Xiao Fengxian’s mouth were two rows of snow-white teeth and a tongue that had once been nimble, capable of kissing— the teeth were still there, but the tongue was gone.
The empty, pitch-black throat was like a cave with no visible exit. Song Yuzhang’s gaze stuck there, his mind buzzing. In that instant, all the carefully laid schemes and calculations he had prepared were crushed to dust. In his eyes, there was only Xiao Fengxian’s pitiful throat, unable to make a sound.
“But since you don’t like him, then forget it,” Fu Mian said, releasing his grip on Xiao Fengxian’s neck and speaking gently. “Zhu Qing says he doesn’t like watching, so you can take him outside and get it done. I’ve gotten dark myself—hardly appetizing to look at anymore—so I ought to make up for it by being more agreeable in temperament.” Fu Mian turned his head and smiled at Song Yuzhang. “Don’t you think so?”
Song Yuzhang said nothing. He noticed that Xiao Fengxian was conscious again; those eyes revealed a numb, lifeless hatred. He hated Fu Mian, and he hated Song Yuzhang as well.
That hatred surged through Song Yuzhang’s heart like a violent current, leaving it numb.
“You say you don’t want to watch, yet your eyes haven’t blinked once. What hypocrisy.”
Fu Mian said with a smile. His gaze never left Song Yuzhang’s face, savoring every muscle, every inch of skin, refusing to miss even the slightest shift in expression. “Then again, who wouldn’t want to watch the deflowering of Haizhou’s famous leading actor? Strip him.”
“Yes!”
Without a trace of emotion, the two attendants tore off the white robe from Xiao Fengxian’s body.
Fu Mian’s eyes remained fixed on Song Yuzhang, a hidden excitement flickering across his face. “Do him.”
Song Yuzhang watched as Xiao Fengxian was forced to the ground, his legs yanked high like an animal’s. Those legs were straight and slender, trained for over a decade—capable of perfect splits, horizontal or vertical.
“Stop…”
Song Yuzhang said, his lips trembling.
No one listened. An attendant was already unfastening Xiao Fengxian’s trousers.
“Stop!”
Song Yuzhang raised his voice and suddenly lunged forward, slamming into the man holding Xiao Fengxian’s legs and knocking him to the ground. He threw himself over Xiao Fengxian, shielding him completely beneath his body.
At Fu Mian’s signal, the fallen man retreated.
“Don’t touch him…” Song Yuzhang wrapped his arms tightly around Xiao Fengxian, suppressing the faint tremor in his voice. “Whatever you want to do, do it to me.”
Fu Mian’s voice came from above, flat and indifferent. “You mean you’re willing to serve my two subordinates in his place?”
“Yes,” Song Yuzhang answered without hesitation.
The moment the words left his mouth, Xiao Fengxian convulsed beneath him. Song Yuzhang held him tighter. In Xiao Fengxian’s struggle, their eyes met—countless unspoken words seemed to pass between them. Xiao Fengxian blinked once, and a tear like blood slid down his cheek.
His lips moved slightly. Song Yuzhang read them clearly.
“I’m sorry.”
Song Yuzhang’s eyes burned. In the next instant, he was yanked up and dragged back into Fu Mian’s grasp.
All warmth vanished from Fu Mian’s face; the cold there was absolute. “Good. Very good. How touching. I thought you were a heartless bastard—turns out you’re just heartless toward me…”
He shoved Song Yuzhang violently onto the hay pile, grinding his teeth. “Since you’re so eager to debase yourself, I’ll grant your wish!”
“Get out! All of you!”
The attendants hurriedly dragged Xiao Fengxian away, but Xiao Fengxian suddenly burst out with strength, kicking and wailing, his legs thrashing as he refused to be taken.
Song Yuzhang could summon no schemes, no calculations. He pressed a hand to his itching, aching lungs and said hoarsely, “Don’t hurt him. If you want to beat someone or kill someone, come at me. Every wrong has its owner, every debt its debtor. Fu Mian, don’t be such a spineless coward—don’t make me despise you.”
Fu Mian nodded as he laughed. “Just as I thought—a slut who’s begging to be fucked.” He stepped forward and grabbed Song Yuzhang by the throat, his eyes icy as they bored into Song Yuzhang’s misted gaze. “Remember this—you brought it on yourself.”
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