Ye Rou's desperate grasp

Zhong Qing's heart raced as Ye Rou took slow, deliberate steps toward him. Each step was heavy with purpose, the tension between them thickening with every passing second. "Look at me in my eyes and tell me you don't want to stay with me," Ye Rou demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

But Zhong Qing couldn't do it. The truth was lodged in his throat, stuck behind all the conflicting emotions that had been swirling inside him. He averted his eyes, unable to meet Ye Rou's intense gaze. "I am not Luan Xie," he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of unspoken pain. "Don't make me a replacement for him."

Ye Rou's expression darkened, his fury ignited by the mention of Luan Xie. The idea that Zhong Qing would compare himself to someone Ye Rou had once been obsessed with, someone who had caused him so much turmoil, was intolerable. Without thinking, his anger took control.

In one swift, brutal motion, Ye Rou grabbed Zhong Qing harshly, his fingers digging into his arms as he pulled him close. There was no gentleness in the way he crashed their lips together, the kiss forceful and demanding, driven by a desperate need to assert his control, to erase any doubt in Zhong Qing's mind about who he belonged to.

Zhong Qing's body stiffened in shock, his mind reeling from the suddenness of it all. The kiss showed exactly the man Ye Rou had turned to—it was rough, almost violent, lacking the tenderness that had once defined their connection. It was a raw display of Ye Rou's anger and possessiveness, and it left Zhong Qing feeling trapped, suffocated by the intensity of it all.

For a moment, Zhong Qing resisted, his hands pushing weakly against Ye Rou's chest, trying to break free from the punishing hold. But Ye Rou's grip was unrelenting, his lips pressing harder, as if trying to silence every protest, every thought that might challenge his authority.

The kiss was long and bruising, a clash of wills that left them both breathless. When Ye Rou finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else—something darker, more primal. Zhong Qing's lips were swollen, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, but the look in his eyes was one of hurt and disbelief.

Ye Rou's grip on Zhong Qing's arms loosened, but the intensity in his gaze remained. "You are mine," Ye Rou growled, his voice low and rough, as if daring Zhong Qing to challenge him again. "Don't you dare forget that."

Zhong Qing said nothing, his mind swirling with confusion and pain. He had always known Ye Rou could be possessive, controlling, but this—this was different. This was something darker, something that made him realize just how far Ye Rou was willing to go to keep him by his side.

Zhong Qing's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing as he processed what had just happened. The force of Ye Rou's kiss, the bruising grip on his arms, and the harsh words that followed left him feeling shaken to his core. The man he once knew—the one who had shown him moments of kindness and vulnerability—seemed to be disappearing, replaced by someone more ruthless, more desperate.

For a moment, they just stood there, the silence between them heavy with unresolved tension. Zhong Qing's lips still tingled with the remnants of the brutal kiss, a reminder of the power Ye Rou held over him, power he had used without hesitation.

But as the initial shock began to wear off, something inside Zhong Qing shifted. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface started to boil over, fueled by the realization that Ye Rou had crossed a line—a line that couldn't be uncrossed.

Zhong Qing pulled away from Ye Rou's grasp, his movements sharp and determined. His eyes finally met Ye Rou's, and there was no longer any hesitation in his gaze. "You think this is love?" Zhong Qing spat, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. "Forcing me to stay, forcing yourself on me—how can you call this love?"

Ye Rou's expression faltered for a split second, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes before the mask of anger and control slipped back into place. "You don't understand," Ye Rou said, his voice hard. "I'm doing this for us, for what we could be. You belong with me, Zhong Qing. I won't let anyone else take you away."

"Us?" Zhong Qing repeated, his voice laced with bitterness. "There is no 'us,' Ye Rou. Not anymore. You destroyed whatever we had the moment you decided that controlling me was more important than loving me."

Ye Rou's eyes narrowed, his frustration growing as Zhong Qing's defiance only seemed to strengthen. "You don't get to decide that," Ye Rou shot back. "I've sacrificed too much for you, for this future we could have together. I won't let you throw it all away because you're scared or confused."

Zhong Qing's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but he refused to let them fall. "This isn't about being scared," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "It's about knowing that whatever this is—it's not love. Love isn't about control, about possession. It's about trust, respect, and you've shattered all of that."

Ye Rou's anger flared again, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You're mine, Zhong Qing," he repeated, as if saying the words could somehow make them true. "You always have been. You can't just walk away from that."

Zhong Qing shook his head, his heart breaking even as he steeled himself for what he had to say next. "You don't own me, Ye Rou," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I loved you once, but I can't keep living like this. I won't."

The finality of Zhong Qing's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settling between them. For a moment, it seemed like Ye Rou might say something, might try to argue, but the look in Zhong Qing's eyes stopped him. There was no more room for argument, no more chances to pull Zhong Qing back into his grasp.

Zhong Qing took a step back, putting distance between them, and for the first time, Ye Rou didn't try to stop him. The reality of what he had done, of how far he had pushed Zhong Qing, seemed to be sinking in. The man he had fought so hard to keep by his side was slipping away, and this time, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

As Zhong Qing turned and walked away, Ye Rou felt a cold emptiness settle in his chest. He watched as Zhong Qing's figure disappeared down the hallway, the echo of his footsteps fading into the distance. The mansion, once filled with the promise of a future together, now felt like a hollow shell, a reminder of everything he had lost in his desperate attempt to hold on.

Ye Rou stood frozen, his gaze locked on Zhong Qing as he walked away. Every step Zhong Qing took felt like a knife twisting deeper into Ye Rou's chest, but he couldn't bring himself to move, to call out, to do anything that might stop him. His fists clenched at his sides, the sharp sting of his nails digging into his palms grounding him in the moment.

The words echoed in his mind, Zhong Qing's voice still haunting him: "You don't own me, Ye Rou. I loved you once, but I can't keep living like this. I won't." The finality in those words shook him, but even so, something deep inside him refused to accept it.

As Zhong Qing's figure disappeared around the corner, leaving Ye Rou alone in the vast emptiness of the mansion, a dark resolve began to take root in his heart. His eyes narrowed, and he muttered under his breath, his voice low and filled with an intensity that bordered on madness. "No matter what you say, I won't let you leave me."

The idea of losing Zhong Qing was unbearable, a reality that Ye Rou simply couldn't accept. He had fought too hard, sacrificed too much to let him go now. In Ye Rou's mind, Zhong Qing belonged to him, and the thought of him walking away—of him finding freedom, perhaps even happiness, without Ye Rou by his side—was an affront he couldn't tolerate.

A twisted determination settled over Ye Rou. If Zhong Qing thought he could just walk away, that this was the end, he was wrong. Ye Rou wasn't going to let him slip through his fingers, not now, not ever. The fear of losing Zhong Qing had already driven Ye Rou to desperate measures, and now, it threatened to push him even further.

Ye Rou's eyes darkened as he turned away from the empty hallway, his mind already racing with plans. He wasn't going to give up, wasn't going to let Zhong Qing go, no matter what it took. In his mind, he convinced himself that everything he was doing was for them, for their future together, even if Zhong Qing couldn't see it yet.

With one last glance toward the direction where Zhong Qing had disappeared, Ye Rou finally moved, his steps deliberate and controlled as he headed to his office. There were preparations to be made, and he would stop at nothing to ensure that Zhong Qing remained where he belonged—by his side, no matter the cost.

Ye Rou entered his office, the door closing with a soft click behind him. The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn tight, allowing only slivers of the dying daylight to filter through. It was a place that had always been a sanctuary for him, a space where he could plan, control, and make decisions that shaped the world around him. But now, the room felt different—cold, empty, and oppressive.

He stood for a moment, staring at the large mahogany desk that dominated the room. Papers and files were neatly arranged, evidence of his meticulous nature, but today, none of it mattered. His mind was consumed by thoughts of Zhong Qing, by the words that had been spoken, and the look in Zhong Qing's eyes as he walked away.

Ye Rou moved slowly to the desk, his fingers brushing over the polished wood as if searching for something to ground him. But nothing seemed to ease the tension coiled tight in his chest. His thoughts kept returning to the same point, over and over: Zhong Qing was slipping away.

He sank into the leather chair behind the desk, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the wall ahead. Memories of Zhong Qing filled his mind—moments of tenderness, of passion, of quiet conversations that once made him feel like he had finally found something real, something worth holding on to. But now, all those memories felt tainted, overshadowed by the present reality.

Zhong Qing wanted to leave. He wanted to return to a time, a life, that didn't include Ye Rou. The thought filled Ye Rou with a dark, simmering rage. How could Zhong Qing not see that everything Ye Rou did, he did out of love? How could he not understand that their future together was the only path worth taking?

Ye Rou's hand clenched into a fist, the knuckles whitening as his nails dug into his palm. The idea of Zhong Qing living a life without him, of finding solace or happiness elsewhere, was unbearable. He couldn't let it happen. He wouldn't.

His mind began to turn, the wheels of his thoughts grinding forward with a single-minded determination. If Zhong Qing was determined to leave, then Ye Rou would simply have to find a way to keep him here—no matter what it took. He would protect their future, even if it meant taking measures that might push Zhong Qing further away. In Ye Rou's mind, the ends justified the means.

His gaze flickered to his phone on the desk, and without hesitation, he reached for it. There were people who owed him favors, people who could help him ensure that Zhong Qing had no choice but to stay. He wouldn't force him physically—that wasn't his style—but he could make it so that leaving became impossible, so that every path away from him was blocked, every door locked.

As he dialed a number, his expression was one of cold resolve. The plan was forming in his mind, each step clear and precise. He would make sure that Zhong Qing had nowhere to run, no one to turn to. By the time he was done, Zhong Qing would have no choice but to accept his place at Ye Rou's side.

"Liang," Ye Rou said when the call connected, his voice steady and authoritative. "I need you to do something for me. It's urgent. You need to make sure that certain…options are no longer available to Zhong Qing for him to go back."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Liang, one of Ye Rou's most trusted associates, responded. "Understood. I'll take care of it."

Ye Rou ended the call and leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of grim satisfaction settle over him. This was the right course of action—he was sure of it. Zhong Qing might hate him for it, might resist, but in the end, Ye Rou believed he was saving him from making a mistake. They were meant to be together, and Ye Rou would do whatever it took to ensure that destiny was fulfilled.

As the room grew darker with the fading light, Ye Rou allowed himself to imagine the future he was working so hard to protect. A future where Zhong Qing would come to understand that everything Ye Rou did was for their own good. A future where they could finally be together, free from the ghosts of the past.

But deep down, a small, nagging doubt lingered—a whisper of a thought that he quickly pushed aside. Because if he allowed himself to question his actions now, he feared the truth might be too much to bear. And so, Ye Rou continued to plan, his resolve hardening with each passing moment, determined to keep Zhong Qing by his side at any cost.