Chapter 21: The Serpent of Temptation
“Whoosh—”
The remaining half of the candle was rekindled.
Qu Yan cupped his hand, touching the tiny scars on his palm, his brow relaxing into a pleased expression. “It’s rare for me to make a losing deal, but surprisingly, it doesn’t feel bad at all.”
He seemed to be talking to himself. Yan Zhuo couldn’t understand, only knowing that Qu Yan did not resent him for his affection.
The dim candlelight filled the cramped room. Qu Yan belatedly felt hunger, a sharp pang in his stomach. Before he could speak, Yan Zhuo had already stood up. “I’ll go get some food.”
Once he left, the space suddenly felt much larger. Perhaps it was the illusion hunger created, but Qu Yan actually found the small room a bit empty without Yan Zhuo.
Yan Zhuo returned swiftly, carrying a bowl of egg fried rice. He appeared very familiar with the room, skillfully pulling out a worn folding table from under the bed.
Qu Yan stared at his back, deep in thought.
The freshly steamed rice was cooked to the perfect softness and firmness, with vegetables and diced ham mixed in. Qu Yan stirred it with a spoon. “Have you eaten already?”
He was making conversation, of course Yan Zhuo had eaten by this time, yet the answer surprised him. Yan Zhuo hesitated, then said, “No.”
The spoon tapped crisply against the bowl’s edge. Qu Yan realized this little wolf had been keeping watch over him all along; how could he have eaten already? “Eat together? Or is there more in the kitchen?”
There was still some left in the kitchen pot. Song Chengfeng had cooked for the first time and hadn’t quite mastered the right quantity, so there was a lot left.
A few minutes later, Yan Zhuo returned with another bowl.
They ate at the folding table in silence, no rules about not speaking while eating, but neither of them said a word.
Qu Yan only looked up after finishing. Yan Zhuo ate faster and was now staring blankly at the table, hands folded before him. By candlelight, Qu Yan noticed a long, raw scratch on his wrist, extending from wrist to between his middle fingers. It was clearly untreated; the flesh was torn and exposed, just looking at it made one cringe.
“How did you get that?”
Yan Zhuo snapped back to reality, following Qu Yan’s gaze, his eyes filled with confusion. He didn’t know either and hadn’t even noticed until Qu Yan pointed it out.
After finishing their meal, they didn’t clear the table. Yan Zhuo placed his hand on it, watching Qu Yan tend to his wound.
First, the wound needed disinfecting. Qu Yan opened the medicine bottle and glanced up at Yan Zhuo, casually asking, “Why doesn’t this room have a window?”
Yan Zhuo looked around. “Is that strange?”
Qu Yan softened his movements, lowering his voice. “A bit. It feels uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable, so…”
“Don’t move,” Qu Yan said, holding his small arm gently. He looked up at Yan Zhuo’s expression. “Don’t you feel that way?”
Yan Zhuo shook his head honestly. “I used to live here.”
The cotton swab soaked in medicine trembled slightly. The room was dark and narrow, just a glance would feel stifling. Yet Yan Zhuo said he lived here. Qu Yan’s expression darkened slightly. “Because of Yan Xingzhang?”
Sensing Qu Yan’s change in mood, Yan Zhuo subconsciously lowered his head and avoided the question. “I only lived here for a short time. I… I didn’t feel uncomfortable.”
Yan Zhuo wasn’t lying. Judging from his expression, Qu Yan suddenly found his psychological fragility understandable. Anyone would probably develop some mental issues after staying in such a suffocating environment for a while.
After applying the medicine, Yan Zhuo didn’t want bandages, so Qu Yan stopped and carefully put everything back into the first aid box.
Yan Zhuo kept watching him all the while, seeming hesitant to speak. Qu Yan paused, then looked up. “Do you want to say something?”
He could guess a little and smiled faintly. “Is it about what you heard on the intercom? What happened to my leg?”
Yan Zhuo didn’t deny it. He really wanted to know. “Does it have anything to do with Qu Zizhi?”
He pronounced the name quietly, almost indistinguishable. When he asked, he looked straight into Qu Yan’s eyes and caught a fleeting look of disgust. He should have guessed. Qu Yan’s past relationship with Qu Zizhi was not exactly close but certainly not hostile. Qu Yan wouldn’t have gone this long without mentioning Qu Zizhi once.
The cramped room still hung heavy with the bitter scent of ointment. Qu Yan twirled his fingers. “I can tell you.”
He thought it was no big deal, more like a test. If Yan Zhuo didn’t believe him or sided with Qu Zizhi, it didn’t matter. It would just help him gauge the true value of Yan Zhuo’s feelings.
Yan Zhuo assumed a listening posture.
Qu Yan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he said, “Before that, I want to ask you something. Why do you like me?”
Why like… Yan Zhuo’s hand resting on his knee trembled slightly. Strange—an unnoticed wound now hurt more after being treated.
“Let me put it another way. When you first saw me, what was I doing?”
“The first time I saw you…” Yan Zhuo recalled, a faint smile playing at his lips, “You were feeding a cat.”
He said it with certainty; that scene replayed vividly in his memory, fresh as if it happened yesterday.
“Feeding a cat…” Qu Yan repeated the words slowly, a trace of irony lifting the corner of his eye. “So it was that time.”
They sat separated by a small square table. Qu Yan shifted slightly, his knee brushing Yan Zhuo’s leg. He tapped the tabletop and said, “Remember what I said before? The fondness from school days means nothing. What you saw was only what I wanted others to see. How can you be sure it was the real me?”
His words came out somewhat convoluted, seeming even more obscure in the dim room. Yan Zhuo looked up, bewildered.
Qu Yan continued, “You only saw me feeding the cat, but you didn’t know it was just a whim to tease it. That cat was stupid. I gave it some food, and it just followed me around. But it was worthless to me. I quickly lost interest and kicked it hard. It struggled for a long time but couldn’t get up. I easily got rid of it.”
His tone was indifferent, instantly shattering Yan Zhuo’s beautiful mental image.
“Now that you know the truth, do you still like me?”
Yan Zhuo’s lips trembled. The Qu Yan before him and the boy smiling at the stray cat in his memory overlapped and diverged. They were the same person, yet the feelings they evoked in Yan Zhuo were entirely different.
He was speechless, unsure how to answer.
At that moment, Qu Yan leaned forward. His long, cool fingers traced the pulse at Yan Zhuo’s neck.
“To you, liking someone means giving everything for them, right?”
Qu Yan’s fingers were icy cold, as if freezing every organ inside him, leaving only the blood flowing slowly. Yan Zhuo nodded in agreement.
He liked Qu Yan, willing to give everything—even his life.
“No,” Qu Yan corrected him as if fixing a mistake. “Liking someone means accepting all of them, the good and the bad.”
His eyes flickered with the dancing candlelight. The orange flames reflected in his pupils made him look like a snake—dangerous, yet irresistibly alluring.
Yan Zhuo was bewitched by this beautiful serpent, nodding stiffly and repeating, “…accept all of them, the good and the bad…”
“That’s right,” Qu Yan said, patting his head like a reward. “Have you thought about my question? Do you still want to like me?”
“I do.” Yan Zhuo curled up, sliding off the bed until he sat on the floor, resting his forehead against Qu Yan’s knee. He rubbed back and forth softly, murmuring over and over, “I like Qu Yan… I like Qu Yan…”
Qu Yan withdrew his hand from Yan Zhuo’s neck and ran his fingers through his soft hair. He was in a good mood, even satisfied.
Yan Zhuo didn’t disappoint him.
He didn’t remember anything about feeding cats, but it didn’t stop him from inventing a story. Those kind and beautiful moments of the past had nothing to do with who he was now.
He just wanted to be bad.
Bad enough that Yan Zhuo couldn’t help but fall into his trap, ensnared in the web he wove so tightly that even if regret ever came, it would only bind him more and more.