"He said his father was a liar," He Chuan described.

Grandpa narrowed his eyes and didn't answer.

A year later, Feng's father passed away. The news that a group of people were demanding a debt from his family spread throughout the streets and even reached the ears of the grandfather and grandson in the alley.

At that time, they had not expected that Feng's father owed such a huge debt and that the battle would last so long.

Having met Feng Ran only a handful of times, it wasn't surprising that he'd forgotten him. Later, they went their separate ways, and only met again a few years later, but he still didn't recognize him.

But he knew Feng Ran very well. He was concerned about everything about him: his family, his grades, and even his rather sensational early love affair.

He also met Liu Mang.

He was just in the first year of high school at that time. Liu Mang and his group surrounded Feng Ran's bicycle, holding knives in their hands, discussing where to stab the better spot.

He threw his schoolbag aside and walked over.

Naturally, he was beaten black and blue.

What’s even more infuriating is that when Feng Ran arrived, he thought he was going to slash his tires.

Liu Mang and his companions quickly found Grandpa. The old man, who had always loved him, was furious. Feng Ran's family was in trouble, and at this critical moment, it was best to stay away. Grandpa made him swear never to mess with Feng Ran again, let alone help him.

He rarely felt wronged, but that night he couldn't help but talk back to his grandfather and ran out of the house in anger.

The night was deep, and he walked aimlessly until he reached the closed-door school. People were still coming in and out of the university gate, young people laughing and playing happily, no one paying attention to him in the corner, wearing his high school uniform.

Feng Ran didn't live on campus, so it was unlikely that he would meet him at this time.

——It’s okay if we meet him. He was beaten too badly and was wearing a mask, so he wouldn’t be recognized.

With this thought in mind, I stood at the school gate for a long time.

But sometimes, just by chance, he turned around with a sudden inspiration.

Two meters away, the man was leaning against the wall behind him.

With a cigarette in her mouth, she gazed at him deeply in the smoke that drifted with the wind.

He didn't know how long he had been waiting like this.

He Chuan was in a panic and left with his

head down. The moment they passed each other, he heard a voice in his ear: "Bai Tian, I misunderstood you."

He Chuan stopped.

"Aren't you in high school?" Feng Ran put out his cigarette on the marble tile, "Why are you here, looking for me?"

He was even more panicked and said: "No..."

"Take off the mask." Feng Ran suddenly gave an order.

He took a step back, not understanding what he meant.

"Take it off." The other party said impatiently, "Are you going to school with a face swollen like a pig's head?"

It was late at night and the street lights were dim. In the corner, he applied medicine to him, little by little, carefully.

Perhaps because of the pressure of life, he became silent. He Chuan soon discovered that his beautiful, slender, clean hands were covered with scars and wounds, new and old.

Maybe he had just come out of the workshop, and his clothes had a faint smell of engine oil, mixed with the strange fragrance of medicine, which was not unpleasant. He Chuan sniffed.

A cool touch slid across his cheek, and he said dryly, "Keep the medicine for yourself."

Feng Ran agreed and didn't stop.

Finally finished applying the medicine, He Chuan quickly put on his mask.

Feng Ran murmured, "Have we met before?"

He Chuan shook his head.

"Why do you look familiar to me?" Feng Ran suddenly leaned over to take a closer look at him.

The medicine was purple, and he must have looked very funny. He lowered his head even more and said, "I... should go."

"Oh, I'll take you. Get in."

He sat on the back seat of Feng Ran's bicycle for the second time. This bicycle was bought many years ago and has broken down many times. All the parts, big and small, have been replaced countless times. Now that Feng Ran has modified it and added a transmission, it speeds on the road like a motorcycle.

He clung tightly to the thin iron rod of the seat. Feng Ran suddenly turned his head slightly: "Hold on tight."

As he flew over the bumpy mud, his body occasionally soared and fell, and his heart jumped up and down. He tried hard not to cry out.

The turbulence lasted for a full minute, and when he came to his senses, his arms were firmly wrapped around Feng Ran's waist.

...Body temperature and the firm feel of his hands, belatedly penetrated through a thin layer of cloth and passed over.

At that moment, it felt like a fire was burning. His heart was pounding, and he held his breath.

Suddenly, he heard the person in front of him chuckle and say, "Are you scared silly?" He quickly

let go of his hand.

Feng Ran put him down and hurried away. He didn't remember that he had been here before, and just like last time, he didn't ask his name.

...

Feng Ran opened his eyes again, and the first thing he saw was Chen Zhi's face.

Chen Zhi stood in front of him with his arms folded.

And he was fixed on a chair.

It hurt, and his head was splitting. He frowned and shook his head, but Chen Zhi pinched his cheek.

"Finally woke up, I've been waiting for you for a long time." He said in a calm voice.

Feng Ran was keenly aware that they were no longer in that simple studio.

It was damper, darker, and more shabby here, and there seemed to be the sound of water not far away.

He said cautiously, "Where is this?"

Shen Zhi said nothing.

"Why did you bring me here?... I'm asking you a question!"

In a hurry, he raised his leg and kicked, hitting his knee.

Shen Zhi bent his legs and half-knelt, twitching slightly for a few times, and a stream of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

Feng Ran's heart trembled: "Chen Zhi!"

He tried to break free from the knot with his hands behind his back. Shen Zhi didn't even bother to wipe the blood, and raised his head slightly and said: "Don't waste your energy, it can't be untied."

"What on earth are you going to do?" Feng Ran gritted his teeth, "Do you know that you are a patient? Wake up and stop making trouble, okay!" Shen

Zhi slowly stood up, wiped the blood off the ground, and cleaned his clothes. When he came back, except for his pale face, there was nothing abnormal.

He leaned over, put one hand on Feng Ran's shoulder, and stroked his face with the other hand, from the eyebrows down, across the eyes and cheeks, rubbing the lips.

Feng Ran said in a trembling voice: "What the hell are you talking about!"

Chen Zhi said: "Have I ever told you that I really, really hate you smiling at others."

"...What do you mean?"

"That's what I mean." His fingertips rubbed his lips back and forth, and his skin was swollen and flushed bright red. "You know, when that man came to me yesterday and showed off his power, I really wanted to kill him."

"Chen, Chen Zhi, don't talk nonsense."

"Did you do it or not?"

"No!" "

I don't believe it."

"Really!" Feng Ran was anxious, "No means no, what do you say? It's just a playmate I met in the bar. We broke up a long time ago. There's no need for you to go to such lengths."

"Oh, really?"

"I bought him some things, and because of him, he also treated me to some drinks. I was returning the favor. But I never spent the night out."

Seeing his anxious look, pressed for an explanation, Shen Zhi chuckled, "I know, I was just teasing you."

Feng Ran was suspicious: "Really? Then let me go."

Shen Zhi still smiled and said, "No, so you don't run away again someday."

"I would have run away a long time ago. There were opportunities everywhere these days!"

Shen Zhi still refused to let go. Feng Ran was unsure of what he was thinking, and for a moment he was overwhelmed, not knowing what to do. This was

how the night went, eating, drinking, defecating, and urinating all in the same chair, and he was even held down to satisfy his needs several times. Feng Ran was physically and mentally traumatized, his back aching, his arms heavy as iron, and he was about to lose strength.

He said weakly, "I say, are you planning to do this?"

Shen Zhi's brush occasionally traced a mark on the huge canvas. This was a piece he'd been working on for the past few months, a work he'd spent considerable time on. He'd even moved out of the small bungalow overnight, taking nothing with him but this.

"Which one?" Shen Zhi replied after a long pause, then twirled his palette and laid down a stroke.

"This one," he said drowsily. "What's the safe-word?"

"..." Shen Zhi dropped his palette, hopped down the ladder, and approached. "Where do you know all this nonsense?"

"Never mind. Besides, I know more than you do, isn't that normal?"

"Who have you tried it with?"

"If you know, you must have tried it?" Feng Ran asked back. "Don't you know too? So, can I doubt you like that?" Shen

Zhi remained silent.

"It hurts." He opened his eyes again, looking pitiful. "My hand's almost broken, seriously."

"It's not like I've never relaxed before," Shen Zhi said mercilessly.

Feng Ran knew he was still angry, but he had no idea what he was angry about.

After all their years together, he'd grown accustomed to Shen Zhi's moodiness and reluctance to speak openly, and he could guess at least 70% of the way through.

And now, even if he had the utmost patience, after being humiliated for a whole day and night, he could no longer coax or subdue him with gentle words.

He simply shut up, closed his eyes, and spent the afternoon in a daze, until the next night.

The harsh sound of the wind against the door startled him awake. In the pitch-black darkness, he called out softly, "Chen Zhi."

No one responded.

Boundless fear instantly engulfed him, and he began to struggle with all his might. Not far away, the sound of water grew more distinct and rhythmic, the sound of waves crashing against the sea—he was at the beach.

The wind suddenly picked up, and the roof rattled. Then came the heavy rain. It was

a double whammy. Water began to seep from the roof, running down the walls, and falling onto him.

He was only wearing a thin shirt, and the rain was piercingly cold, the chill oppressing him.

In his fierce struggle, he overturned his chair and fell to the ground. Something hit his forehead, and a salty liquid flowed into his mouth. He gritted his teeth, trying to free himself from the ropes.

The rope was newly tied. Shen Zhi was very careful and changed the way of tying it.

The knot was as flexible as a snake. The harder he tied it, the more it confined him, until there was no room for movement. His fingers were swollen and engorged with blood, but they were still stuck tightly. He had

no choice but to give up. In despair, he suddenly remembered that he was the one who taught Shen Zhi this thing. There was no way to untie it. It

was used to tie heavy objects at that time, but who knew it would be like this today.

After calming down a little, the pain came from all over. The rain washed his body with cold sweat and blood, and he gasped.

Suddenly he recalled everything that happened in the past few days. The person who took good care of him turned around and tortured him like this. The chill went from his heart to his limbs .

Maybe an hour, maybe half a night, Shen Zhi disappeared, leaving him in the dark room, unable to move, unable to run.

He felt more and more uneasy, and his stomach was obviously hungry. Could he die here, and no one would know? Was Chen Zhi taking revenge on him on purpose, starving him to death or thirsting him to death...

Another stronger storm came, and the glass window shattered into pieces. He shuddered violently, veins on his forehead throbbing, and he couldn't bear it any longer and vented his anger out loud.

"Chen Zhi, if you're really fucking brave, don't come back to me, you trash, scum--"

The door creaked open, and Chen Zhi, dressed in plain clothes, stood in the thick night, like a god descending. He was tall and straight, with the sea breeze blowing his hair, as if he was too weak to stand steadily, and the waves in his eyes surged, still making people unpredictable and intangible.

He took a step forward and stopped.

On the ground, the person who was tightly attached to the wooden bench was panting miserably, with anger in his eyes.