Lu Yanchen took Yu Chuci to Sweden.
It was winter there, and everything in sight was a vast expanse of white.
They stayed at an old, established hotel in Stockholm. The hotel was by the sea; opening the window offered a view of the Baltic Sea.
Yu Chuci remained the same as ever. When Lu Yanchen took him skiing, he followed mechanically. When he took him out for lavish meals, Yu Chuci would only move his chopsticks symbolically a few times.
Watching him in this lifeless state, the irritation in Lu Yanchen’s heart grew day by day, yet he still maintained immense patience.
He took Yu Chuci to see the Northern Lights.
Under the pitch-black night sky, the colorful lights intertwined and shimmered, breathtakingly beautiful.
“Chuci, look, it’s the Northern Lights.”
Lu Yanchen wrapped his arms around him from behind, pointing at the sky. “They say those who see the Northern Lights will find happiness.”
Yu Chuci looked at the magnificent light in the sky, not a single ripple of emotion stirring in his eyes.
“Happiness?”
He whispered the word, a hint of self-mockery in his tone.
Something like that had long been a luxury for him.
They stayed in Sweden for a full two weeks.
During those two weeks, Lu Yanchen was almost entirely obedient to his every whim.
But Yu Chuci felt as if he had been locked in an even more magnificent, even larger cage.
—
The day they returned to the country, it was raining heavily.
As soon as Yu Chuci got off the plane, he felt a wave of dizziness.
“Chuci!”
Lu Yanchen caught him with quick reflexes, finding his face frighteningly pale and his forehead alarmingly hot.
Yu Chuci was sick.
This illness lasted a full week.
In his delirium, he kept calling out for “Dad,” “Mom,” and also Shen Qingcheng’s name.
Lu Yanchen stayed by the bedside, listening to him call out that man’s name, his eyes terrifyingly dark.
He wished he could go kill Shen Qingcheng right now.
But he couldn’t.
If Shen Qingcheng died, Yu Chuci would probably truly fight him to the death.
When Yu Chuci finally regained consciousness, he found himself lying in a hospital.
Lu Yanchen was sitting on the sofa handling work matters. Seeing him open his eyes, he immediately put down his laptop and walked over.
“Awake? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?”
Lu Yanchen reached out to touch his forehead, his tone gentle.
Yu Chuci avoided his hand, his voice hoarse. “I want some water.”
Lu Yanchen poured a glass of warm water and carefully helped him drink.
“The doctor said you’re suffering from overwork and excessive worry. Chuci, what exactly are you worrying about?”
Yu Chuci looked at him and said nothing.
What was he worrying about?
He was worrying about whether he would have to live in Lu Yanchen’s shadow for the rest of his life.
He was worrying about whether he really could never pick up a paintbrush again.
He was worrying about how much longer he could hold on.
—
After being discharged from the hospital, Lu Yanchen didn’t allow him to return to that apartment. Instead, he directly took him back to the previous villa.
“We’ll live here from now on.”
Lu Yanchen held his hand, walking across the familiar lawn.
“I’ve already had people renovate the back garden. Don’t you like gardening? I had many rare varieties shipped from abroad.”
Yu Chuci looked at those expensive flowers and plants, not feeling a shred of joy in his heart.
This life, controlled by Lu Yanchen, made him feel suffocated.
“Lu Yanchen, let me go.”
Yu Chuci suddenly spoke.
Lu Yanchen’s steps froze, his grip on Yu Chuci’s hand tightening sharply.
“Let you go? Yu Chuci, haven’t you seen the situation clearly yet?”
Lu Yanchen turned around, staring at him intently. “You are mine. For this lifetime, you are mine!”
Yu Chuci looked at him, a deep sorrow in his eyes.
“Lu Yanchen, what’s the point of trapping me like this?”
“Point? I just want to see you every day. I want you by my side. That’s the point!”
Lu Yanchen growled, a fanatical obsession shining in his eyes.
Yu Chuci closed his eyes and said no more.
He knew that no matter what he said, Lu Yanchen would never let go.
Since he couldn’t escape, then the only option was… to completely destroy himself.
—
Over the next few days, Yu Chuci became exceptionally docile.
He did whatever Lu Yanchen asked, even initiating conversation with him.
Lu Yanchen thought he had finally come around and was ecstatic.
One day, Lu Yanchen had to attend an important business banquet.
“Chuci, wait for me tonight. I have a surprise for you.”
Lu Yanchen kissed his forehead, his tone doting.
Yu Chuci nodded, watching his car leave.
Once the car disappeared from sight, Yu Chuci walked into the art studio.
He picked up a paintbrush and began frantically smearing it across the canvas.
It was no longer the fresh, beautiful style of before, but filled with oppression, pain, and despair.
The entire canvas was a dark red, like endlessly flowing blood.
After finishing the last stroke, Yu Chuci threw down the brush, looked at the painting, and suddenly laughed.
He walked out of the studio and went to the rooftop terrace.
The evening breeze blew gently, lifting the hem of his clothes.
Yu Chuci stood at the edge of the terrace, looking down at the myriad lights of the city below.
“Dad, Mom, I’m coming to be with you.”
He whispered the words, then leaped forward.
Like a white butterfly with broken wings, he vanished into the thick night.