While the Shen Group was rising gloriously from the ashes thanks to the designs of "Architect Z," back in the wind-swept coastal penthouse, Shen Zhe was busy with a far more critical project: the "reverse-domestication" of Lin Yan.
Shen Zhe had discovered a fascinating truth: to deal with a madwoman, you must be madder than her. He no longer demanded freedom. Instead, he transformed Lin Yan's own freedom into a luxury she no longer wished to touch. He used the massive wealth he had earned to turn the apartment into a literal "golden cage." He demanded she quit her job, bought her evening gowns so extravagant she couldn't possibly wear them to the market, and forced her into towering stilettos that left her unable to stand unless she clung firmly to his arm.
"Yan, smile for me. There are only the two of us here; your smile is my exclusive property," he whispered. His tone sounded doting, yet it was enough to make one's skin crawl.
Coincidentally, the private investigator hired by Mr. Shen—a poor soul who had survived on instant noodles for three days while staking out the place—finally tracked them to this apartment complex. He tremblingly raised his binoculars from the opposite building, hoping to witness the young master being tortured so he could report back and claim his reward.
But no. What he saw through the lens was a scene that nearly sent him tumbling off the balcony from sheer "culture shock."
Shen Zhe—the boy wonder, the pride of the architectural world—was sitting cross-legged in an armchair like a young king. At his feet, Lin Yan knelt voluntarily. Shen Zhe nonchalantly used a thin red silk ribbon, tying an exquisite bow around her wrist and loosely tethering it to the leg of his chair. Then, he lifted her chin, slowly feeding her wine spoonful by spoonful, as if feeding milk to a prize pet.
There wasn't a trace of suffering on Shen Zhe's face. On the contrary, his gaze was filled with a wicked, frantic possessiveness so intense that the detective muttered to himself: "The Young Master... has truly gone deviant."
The investigator clicked his camera repeatedly, shivering all the while. In the report sent back to the Shen mansion, he wrote with utter horror:
"Reporting to the Chairman: The Young Master has not been kidnapped. He is... training someone. He is spending money like water to keep a girl, and the way he treats her is... truly hard to describe. To put it bluntly, he is knee-deep in an abnormal relationship. He doesn't want to come home because he's too busy playing the role of a twisted 'Master'!"
At the Shen estate, photos of Shen Zhe kissing Lin Yan's forehead while she was bound by silk ribbons were scattered across the table. When Mrs. Shen saw them, she clutched her chest, her eyes rolling back: "My son... my pious, well-behaved son... how did he turn into this?"
Mr. Shen slammed the table so hard his teacup jumped: "Dammit! He sent those blueprints to save the company just to get money to keep a mistress? And playing bondage games? Where did he learn such habits?"
They didn't know that the thin silk ribbon was Shen Zhe's way of soothing Lin Yan's fear of abandonment. She craved the feeling of being bound, and he gave her exactly what she wanted in exchange for total control. He was using his own madness to protect her from the world—and to protect himself from his family's pursuit.
Shen Zhe caught the flash of a camera lens from the opposite building out of the corner of his eye. He knew the "audience" was in position. A cold smirk played on his lips. He suddenly pulled Lin Yan into his lap and engaged in a passionate kiss right in front of the window, without drawing the curtains.
"Yan, do you see? The whole world will think I'm a madman for loving you," he whispered, his hand tightening around her waist.
Lin Yan trembled with bliss, drowning in his possessiveness, unaware that she was merely the lead actress in a dark, scripted play. Shen Zhe wanted his family to be disappointed in him; he wanted them to think he was "broken" so they would stop interfering in their lives.
But Mr. Shen was not a man to let things slide. He gritted his teeth, staring at the photo of his son smiling with such sinister malice:
"Get the car ready immediately! Bring those two lunatics back to me. I won't let him tarnish the family name in that coastal city any longer. As for that girl... if he loves playing 'captivity' that much, I'll bring them both here. Let's see what games they play in front of our ancestors!"