Lin Wan stayed at the Wangs' only until the second day of the New Year.
For the remaining days, she shut herself inside her apartment drawing sketches.
Her only companions were Ni Ni and A Jin's twice-daily phone calls—morning and night—asking the same handful of gentle questions:
What did you do today?
What did you eat?
Lin Wan answered them one by one.
After hanging up, she looked at the bowl of instant noodles beside her and thought, with a strange sense of triumph:
I'm improving. I actually managed to fool him.
—
On the sixth day of the New Year, A Jin came to "pick her up" in person.
The moment he saw her, he frowned in disbelief.
How'd you get dark circles like that?
You celebrated the New Year by turning yourself into a panda?
You stayed up late again, didn't you?
Do you still want to get better or not?
Honestly—take my eyes off you for a minute, and it's chaos.
He scolded her thoroughly, then stuffed both her and the dog into the car.
Instead of returning to the apartment, he drove her to a high-end spa.
The masseuse's expert hands melted every knot in her muscles.
Amid the scent of essential oils, the trickling of water, and soft music, Lin Wan drifted into sleep.
When she awoke, her entire body felt light, renewed.
A glance at the clock told her she had slept for more than three hours.
A staff member led her to the lounge.
"Your husband is waiting for you."
Lin Wan froze, cheeks warming.
"He's not—"
"I understand," the staffer smiled. "Boyfriend."
Lin Wan bit her lip.
Denying it again would only invite more curious looks.
Forget it. It wasn't real anyway.
—
In the lounge, she saw A Jin sitting on a sofa reading a magazine.
His posture was relaxed, but his expression focused.
As she stared, something small and sharp tapped at her heart—
A tiny hammer knocking against her ribcage.
She trembled without meaning to.
As though sensing her, he immediately looked up, set aside the magazine, and walked toward her.
"You really can sleep," he teased.
He reached out naturally—too naturally—and cupped her freshly steamed, rosy cheek.
"Looks like it worked. We'll come here more often."
Lin Wan flinched back.
"You waited here the whole time?"
"No. I got a foot massage."
"…Where's Ni Ni?"
"Took her to the pet shop next door."
By the time they stepped outside, night had already fallen.
They retrieved Ni Ni from the pet shop, where the staff handed over the freshly groomed pup.
"I got her a spa too," A Jin explained. "Much easier on the eyes now."
Lin Wan's first instinct was to think:
You really have money burning a hole in your pocket, don't you?
But the puppy's soft, sleek fur and brightened eyes erased everything else.
She scooped it up, inhaled the warm, clean scent, and sighed in delight.
"So fragrant."
A Jin leaned in too—
But instead of smelling the dog, he inhaled near her,
And nodded.
"Mm. Very fragrant."
The shop attendant, smiling politely, added,
"We used rose essential oil for the grooming."
She thought privately,
Total waste on this scruffy little dog.
A Jin beamed.
"Thanks a lot."
The clerk forced another polite smile, thinking,
What an absolute fool.
A handsome fool, but still a fool.
—
That afternoon nap turned into trouble.
Lin Wan had trouble sleeping that night.
Half-dreaming, half-awake, she heard strange sounds and—recalling horror stories—bolted upright and turned on the lamp.
A Jin was lying on his stomach again.
The blanket had slipped off half his back, and his sleep shirt was hitched up.
His right hand rested against his lower back, unconsciously scratching.
Lin Wan sucked in a sharp breath.
Across his back—
Those scarred, scabbed-over lash marks.
Where he had scratched, the skin had broken again, flecked with red.
Raw. Violent. Bloody.
Her gaze slid into his hand—
The burn marks between his fingers, small but unmistakable.
She had noticed them earlier but never understood when he became someone who treated his own body so carelessly.
If she photographed this scene, she thought,
She would title it simply:
Ruin.
Her hand moved on its own, reaching toward him.
But the moment her fingertips brushed the heat of his skin,
She jerked back as if burned.
Just then, he stopped "punishing" himself and turned over.
His face angled toward her, brows drawn even in sleep.
Lin Wan stared at him—
Then reached over and turned off the lamp.
She had barely settled back into her pillow when he murmured:
"Wanwan."
Her heart skipped—
Then stumbled.
She turned toward him.
His eyes were closed.
Dream-talking.
Her throat tightened painfully.
This awful man had a mouth perfectly matched to his sins.
There had been a period when simply seeing his lips move made her tense.
But now, these two syllables—Wanwan—
They were what she feared most.
Every time he called her,
It felt like someone seized her heart and twisted it—again and again.
Sorrow truly could tangle into a hundred knots.
Yes, she was sorrowful.
Depression had hollowed her out, made her fragile—
But it had also sharpened her sensitivity, made her aware of everything.
If his cruelty was a blade,
Then his tenderness…
was poison.
Before she could gather herself, he murmured again:
"Take your medicine…"
He smacked his lips once, then fell silent.
She knew he was speaking in his sleep—
Yet the ache in her chest surged uncontrollably, swelling like a fountain bursting upward.
In the dark, she stared at the sleeping man until her vision blurred with tears.
She felt as though she were drinking a cup of poison—
The legendary lethal kind—
Except the dying process stretched endlessly, unbearably long.
She could feel every stage:
The suffocation,
The stomach lining tearing,
The vessels rupturing,
the liver failing,
The blood spilling—
Unable to bear it another second, Lin Wan yanked open the bedside drawer, searching for medicine.
Nothing.
She rushed to A Jin's studies.
He always managed her medication, handing it out like an imperial pardon—one or two pills each morning and night, occasionally even withholding some to "reduce dependency."
But now she has discovered the cruel truth:
The drawer was locked.
As if someone had stolen her last bit of strength,
She sank to the floor and folded over, face buried against her knees, sobbing.
Footsteps approached.
A pair of large slippers appeared in her blurred line of sight.
A Jin knelt and cupped her face.
"Wanwan… what's wrong?"
"I want my medicine," she cried.
"You already took today's dose."
"I want more."
"No."
She slammed her fist into his chest.
"Give me my medicine!
Who allowed you to hide it from me?!
Seeing her about to erupt again, he chose not to argue.
He simply reached to lift her, intent on taking her back to bed.
Lin Wan resisted wildly—pushing, hitting, flailing.
"Wanwan, don't make a scene," he coaxed softly.
"Come to sleep. You have work tomorrow."
His gentle tone only made things worse.
She hated his softness—feared it—
Because it twisted her heart painfully, unbearably.
She broke into loud, wrenching sobs, striking him harder.
"I hate you.
I hate you so much…
He pulled her into his arms.
Her fists landed on his back—right on the wounds—
Making him grit his teeth.
He endured it, whispering into her ear:
"I know, I know…
Just—don't hate too hard.
You might hurt yourself.
Tears streamed down her face.
He lowered his head, kissing the tears from the corners of her eyes,
As if he could stop them that way.
His lips trailed along her cheek, then captured hers.
She kept repeating that she hated him—
Each word like a pickaxe chipping at his heart—
And he stopped her only by sealing her lips with his tongue,
Drawing breath and sound away until she collapsed against him, trembling softly.
Then he lifted her and carried her back to the bedroom.
—