The silence of the villa was like water, slowly rising past the ankles, past the knees, until it was nearly suffocating.
Lu Chenzhou paced back and forth in the living room, the sound of his leather shoes on the smooth marble floor a monotonous rhythm, the only sign of life in this dead space. He had tried the French windows in the living room; they didn't budge. He had tried the main door's lock; it was cold and unyielding, without even a sliver of a gap.
The housekeeper left by Fu Jingshen was surnamed Liu. She spoke little, only appearing at set times to deliver meals. When she cleaned, she kept her head down, like a shadow without emotion. Lu Chenzhou had asked her questions—"Where exactly is this place?", "When will Fu Jingshen come?"—but she would only shake her head and say, "I don't know, sir didn't instruct me."
On the first afternoon, Lu Chenzhou could still rely on his simmering anger to keep him going, cursing at the empty rooms or doing sets of push-ups until exhaustion, using physical strain to suppress the agitation in his heart. But by nightfall, the immense loneliness and the panic of confinement washed over him like a tide.
He lay on the large bed in the bedroom, staring at the chandelier on the ceiling. The bed was softer than the one in Fu Jingshen's bedroom, yet it made him intensely uncomfortable. Without Fu Jingshen's breathing, without that invasive gaze, he should have felt relief. Instead, his heart felt hollow, as if something were gnawing at it.
"Damn it," he swore under his breath, turning over and burying his face in the pillow. It carried a faint scent of disinfectant, so clean it seemed unused, making the place feel even more like an exquisitely crafted tomb.
The next morning, when Auntie Liu brought breakfast, she also carried a tablet.
"Sir said you can use this to watch movies or listen to music," she said, placing the tablet on the dining table, her head still bowed.
Lu Chenzhou's gaze fell on the tablet. Its screen was black, like a cold mirror. He knew this wasn't a kindness; it was another form of Fu Jingshen's control—using this pitiful bit of entertainment to wear down his will, to make him slowly numb as he waited.
He didn't touch the tablet. He just sat at the table, mechanically putting food in his mouth. The bread was imported, the milk warm, the fried egg perfectly cooked, but he couldn't taste any of it.
At noon, there was a sound at the villa's door. The turning of the lock was especially jarring in the silent space. Lu Chenzhou shot up from the sofa, every muscle in his body tensing instantly, like a beast ready to spring.
Fu Jingshen walked in. He took off his coat, which carried a hint of the cold outside, and handed it to Auntie Liu, who hurried forward. Today he wore a black turtleneck sweater under a camel-colored overcoat, making his frame seem even more imposing. A trace of weariness from being out lingered between his brows, but it did nothing to diminish his intimidating presence.
His eyes found Lu Chenzhou immediately, sweeping over his tense shoulders, pausing on the untouched breakfast plate. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
"You didn't eat?"
Lu Chenzhou ignored him, turning his head away, his jaw tight.
Fu Jingshen wasn't angered. He walked over, raised a hand, and pinched Lu Chenzhou's chin, forcing him to turn back. He'd done this a few times now, but Lu Chenzhou still stiffened violently, as if scalded.
"What's this? A hunger strike?" Fu Jingshen's thumb stroked Lu Chenzhou's lower lip, where the red mark had faded slightly but was still visible. "Or do you think this will force me to let you go?"
"Let go!" Lu Chenzhou's voice was thick with suppressed rage, his eyes slightly red. The day and night of confinement had acted like a fuse, igniting all his negative emotions.
Fu Jingshen didn't release him. Instead, he pinched his chin harder, his voice cooling. "Lu Chenzhou, I don't have the patience to play games with you. If you want your sister's treatment to encounter any… complications…"
"You wouldn't dare!" Lu Chenzhou interrupted fiercely, fire blazing in his eyes.
Fu Jingshen smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes. "See if I dare."
He released his chin, took a step back, and pulled a small metal collar from his pocket, placing it on the coffee table. It was silver, its edges inlaid with tiny diamonds that glittered coldly under the light, like an exquisite instrument of torture.
Lu Chenzhou's pupils constricted violently. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Put it on," Fu Jingshen said, pointing to the collar, his tone as casual as if saying 'drink some water'. "There's a tracker inside. And a few other small things."
"I won't wear it!" Lu Chenzhou refused without a second thought, his face instantly pale. "Fu Jingshen, don't go too far!" This was treating him like a pet, like an object to be branded at will!
"Too far?" Fu Jingshen raised an eyebrow, picked up the collar, and walked over to him. "Compared to the things you said about me behind my back yesterday, I think this is rather merciful."
Lu Chenzhou froze, then understood—there were cameras in the villa, probably microphones too! His every move, every word, was under Fu Jingshen's surveillance!
A chill shot up from the soles of his feet, instantly spreading through his entire body. He looked at the collar in Fu Jingshen's hand, feeling nothing but utter humiliation.
"I'll say it one more time. Put it on," Fu Jingshen's tone now held an undeniable command. "Don't make me do it for you."
Lu Chenzhou glared at him, his fists clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles were white. He could feel his breathing becoming ragged, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as if it might explode.
Resist? He'd tried. It was useless.
Submit? He couldn't. That collar was like a brand. Once put on, it meant he had completely abandoned all dignity.
Fu Jingshen seemed to see through his struggle. He didn't press further, just took the collar, walked to the sofa, sat down, and watched him with composed interest, like he was enjoying a private drama playing out in his prey's heart.
Time ticked by. The silence in the air grew heavier, more suffocating.
Lu Chenzhou's gaze fell on the collar, then he remembered his sister's weak but hopeful voice on the phone. The bone marrow match… it was Yao Yao's only hope for survival.
He couldn't gamble. He couldn't afford to.
Finally, as if all the strength had drained from him, his shoulders slumped slightly.
"...Give it here," he heard himself say, his voice hoarse like sandpaper.
A flicker of satisfaction passed through Fu Jingshen's eyes, but it was quickly masked. He handed the collar over.
Lu Chenzhou took it, his fingertips trembling slightly with the effort. The cold touch of the metal made him nauseous. He took a deep breath, raised his hands, and fastened the collar around his own neck.
A soft *click*. The collar locked into place, fitting snugly against his neck. Not too tight, not too loose, yet it felt like an invisible shackle, instantly constricting his throat.
Fu Jingshen's gaze settled on the collar around his neck. The sparkle of the diamonds reflected in his eyes, shimmering with an obscure light. He stood up, walked over to Lu Chenzhou, raised a hand, and lightly traced the cool metal with his fingertips, from the collarbone up to the lock.
"Beautiful," he said quietly, a trace of barely perceptible obsession in his tone. "It suits you."
The words felt like a needle, stabbing deep into Lu Chenzhou's heart. He jerked his head away, avoiding Fu Jingshen's touch. The moisture welling in his eyes could no longer be held back; it spilled over and trailed down his cheeks.
Not from pain, but from the ultimate humiliation.
Fu Jingshen watched him cry. He didn't mock him, didn't comfort him. He just watched quietly. His fingertips remained on the collar, feeling the slight pulse of the carotid artery beneath the cool metal.
Alive. And his.
"Be obedient," he finally spoke, his voice low, carrying a strange tenderness. "Stop trying to resist me. It's better for you. For me. And for… your sister."
Lu Chenzhou didn't speak. He just bit his lower lip hard, swallowing back every sob.