The flickering light of an oil lamp in the corner cast distorted, dancing shadows against the stained walls. Lin Yan had cut the power intentionally, letting the darkness swallow the room so that the world, for now, consisted only of the two of them. Shen Zhe clumsily wrapped gauze around the wound on her chest. His hands were still trembling, while her hot breath fanned against his neck, carrying the metallic tang of blood mingled with the hauntingly sweet scent of pomelo flowers.
"Does it hurt?" Shen Zhe asked, his voice rasping. The inferno of rage from the night before had been quietly extinguished, replaced by the fragile, broken image of the girl before him.
Lin Yan shook her head slowly, her gaze fixed vacantly on the void. "This pain... it doesn't even compare to a fraction of the scars I carry in my heart, Zhe."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, and this time, he didn't pull away. In the heavy silence, her voice flowed like falling leaves, recounting a decayed past he had never known.
"Do you know why I'm so obsessed with the scent of pomelo flowers? When I was six, my mother left me under a pomelo tree behind our garden. She patted my head and told me to wait there—she was going to buy candy and would be right back. I waited... I waited from the time the flowers bloomed in a sea of pure white, fragrant and bright, until they rotted into the dirt, leaving only the withered scent of betrayal. She never came back."
Lin Yan let out a dry, bitter laugh that tasted like old ginger. "After that came the years in the orphanage. There, if you didn't fight, you starved. If you didn't act the part of a 'good child,' you were beaten. I learned to wear a mask at the age of six just to survive. That's why I'm so terrified... I'm afraid that if I don't hold on tightly to what I love, it will vanish into nothingness, just like my mother did."
She looked up at him, large, hot tears rolling down her pale cheeks, shimmering under the lamplight like shards of broken crystal.
"Throughout our three years of university, I only dared to watch you from a distance. You shone brilliantly like the sun, while I was nothing but a shadow in the abyss. When I saw you being beaten, saw your family turn their backs on you, I was terrified... but I was also deliriously happy. I'm selfish, aren't I? Because only when you lost everything did someone as lowly as me have a chance to touch the hem of your coat. I'd rather be hated by you, rather die by your hand, than stand by and watch you belong to a glittering world I could never set foot in."
Shen Zhe went numb. Every word she spoke felt like a hammer shattering the ice of his prejudice. Looking at the small girl trembling in his arms, he realized she wasn't a demon—she was a soul wounded to the point of deformity. A surge of profound pity rose within him; he instinctively tightened his arms around her shaking shoulders.
"Yan... why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Tell you so you could pity me? I don't need your charity; I need you!" Lin Yan buried her face in his chest, her voice choking on a sob. "Zhe, I beg of you... don't leave me under that pomelo tree again. Out there, they will tear you apart. Only I... only I love you enough to follow you into hell."
In the profound silence of the dark, Shen Zhe felt a strange, aching connection. He, too, had been discarded by his family; he, too, was a fugitive from the world. In a way, they were two broken souls trying to find warmth in the wreckage.
He gently stroked her hair and whispered, "It's okay. No one is leaving you again. Sleep now."
Lin Yan closed her eyes, a faint, imperceptible smile touching her lips. She had succeeded. She had planted a seed in his heart: Compassion. And from pity to love, from forgiveness to the choice of staying in this cage—the distance was now only a matter of time.