The space within the cramped room was already suffocating, but now it felt even thicker, clotted with the clinical scent of antiseptics mingled with the cloying, decaying fragrance of wilted pomelo blossoms. Shen Zhe sat on the freezing floor, one leg shackled to the bedpost by a long iron chain. It was a sick, voluntary submission—a price he was willing to pay to secure Lin Yan's smile, to reassure her that he wouldn't vanish while she was at work. He had accepted becoming a prisoner in the truest sense, an entity existing on the very fringes of society.
Suddenly, the boisterous sound of laughter and conversation erupted from the hallway, shattering the deathly silence. Shen Zhe's heart constricted in a painful spasm. That was not the solitary sound of Lin Yan's footsteps.
"Thank you for walking me all the way home, Lu. I'm truly surprised that after all these years, you still remember my little preferences so vividly," Lin Yan's voice rang out—sweet, soft, and laced with a dangerous undertone.
"About Shen Zhe... I'm truly sorry. It's a massive loss for the world of architecture. But Yan, you should start living for yourself again. He's gone. You can't keep yourself entombed in this dreary room, reeking of old memories, forever. You deserve a life far more radiant than this," a man's voice—deep, confident, and patronizingly protective—responded immediately.
Shen Zhe froze, his entire body turning cold as if doused in ice water. Lu Phong. That name struck his brain like a lightning bolt. It was his former best friend, his perennial rival who had once stood beside him on the podiums of countless architectural design competitions. The veins on Shen Zhe's forehead bulged; his hands clenched so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, drawing blood. How dared he stand there and declare him "gone"? How dared he use that righteous facade to flirt with his woman right at the entrance of his "tomb"?
Click.
Lin Yan pushed the door open. She intentionally left it slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of brilliant light from the hallway to spill in, shining directly into the dark corner where Shen Zhe crouched.
"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" Lin Yan smiled, her eyes flickering briefly toward the corner of the bed where Shen Zhe was gasping in suppressed fury.
Lu Phong stepped inside. His presence made the already small room feel even more cramped and pathetic. He wore an expensive, tailored suit, smelling of luxury cologne that overpowered the room's musty dampness. He looked around with the pitying gaze of a superior, then suddenly, his eyes fixed on the curtain shielding the corner of the bed.
"Your home... it has a strange smell. Medicine? Are you ill, Yan?" Lu Phong frowned, stepping toward the curtain.
Shen Zhe felt like a beast backed into a corner. A thousand scenarios flashed through his mind: he would lunge out, use this very chain to strangle Lu Phong, and tear apart the man who was insulting his very existence. But then, a hollow, cowardly fear took hold. He was terrified of being seen. He feared his radiant rival seeing a Shen Zhe who was skeletal, unkempt, deathly pale, and shackled like an animal. The final shred of pride of a once-renowned architect made him tremble, huddling deeper into the shadows of the curtain.
Lin Yan abruptly grabbed Lu Phong's arm, deftly drawing his attention back to her. She offered a faint, fleeting smile. "Oh, it's nothing. I just rescued a wounded stray dog from the trash. It's quite aggressive and afraid of strangers; don't go near it, or it might bite."
With that, she reached into the darkness behind the curtain. She tenderly stroked Shen Zhe's matted, messy hair right in front of Lu Phong. From his angle, Lu Phong only saw Lin Yan caressing a creature hidden in the gloom.
"Quiet now, don't growl," she whispered to Shen Zhe, her breath carrying the scent of Lu Phong's cologne, making him nauseous. Then she turned to smile at her guest. "You should head off now. Let's do dinner another time. I need to take care of 'him' for a bit."
After the sound of Lu Phong's footsteps faded and the iron door was triple-locked, a terrifying stillness returned. Before Lin Yan could even turn around, a dark shadow pounced. Shen Zhe, fueled by a frantic strength born of sheer humiliation, ripped the chain from the bedpost. He lunged forward, hands locking around her throat, pinning her violently against the stained wall.
"Who is he? Your 'Lu'? Since when have the two of you been so intimate?" Shen Zhe screamed, his voice a jagged rasp, his eyes bloodshot and crazed. "You want to follow him, don't you? Because he's wealthy, because he's successful, because he has two whole legs to take you across the world, while I'm just a cripple waiting to die?"
Lin Yan's face turned a deep crimson as she struggled for air, but her eyes held no fear. Instead, she looked at him and laughed. A satisfied, triumphant laugh of a woman who had completely dismantled a soul.
"Do you see it now? Do you finally see, Zhe?" she choked out. "Out there, everyone thinks you're dead. If you stepped out right now, how would Lu Phong look at you? With pity for a loser? Or with disgust for a genius architect who is now nothing but a soulless husk chained in a corner? Only I... in this entire world, only Lin Yan looks at a 'dead' man like you as a treasure. Only I am willing to embrace your rot."
Shen Zhe went numb. His hands slowly loosened and fell to his sides. His towering rage vanished, replaced by an agonizing humiliation and a bottomless despair. Her words were shards of glass shredding the last of his self-respect. Lu Phong's appearance had achieved exactly what Lin Yan wanted: it crushed any lingering hope he had of returning to his old world.
He slumped against her shoulder, his body trembling with ragged sobs that tore from his gaunt chest.
"Don't let him come here again... please... don't let anyone see me like this," Shen Zhe begged, his voice as fragile as a lost child.
Lin Yan held him tight, her hands stroking his back as if soothing a completely broken animal. She kissed his tear-streaked eyes, whispering in a haunting, hypnotic tone:
"I won't let anyone see you. But you must be good. You must love me even more, so much that I never even want to look at another man out there. You are mine. You belong only to my darkness, understood?"
In that sunless room, the brilliant light of the outside world had been completely extinguished. There were only two mad souls clinging to one another—one who had turned into a demon out of love, and one who had accepted a ghostly existence out of shame.