Ye Rou's fear

The mansion, once filled with life, now stood as a hollow shell of what it used to be. Days had passed since Zhong Qing and Ye Rou had last spoken, and the silence between them grew heavier with each passing moment. The mansion's grandeur now seemed oppressive, the elegant halls echoing only with the absence of their connection. Zhong Qing found himself retreating further into the confines of his room, trying to make sense of the mess inside his head.

His mind was a battlefield, with love and pain constantly at war with each other. No matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away, one truth haunted him relentlessly: despite all the damage Ye Rou had done, despite how much he had been hurt, he was still in love with him. It was a love that felt like a curse—a bond he couldn't break, no matter how much he wanted to.

Zhong Qing sat by his window, gazing out at the garden, his heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. He couldn't understand it. Why did he still care so much? How could he still love someone who had treated him like a pawn, someone who had manipulated and controlled him without hesitation? And yet, every time he closed his eyes, memories of the past would flood his mind—memories of when things were different. He remembered the rare moments when Ye Rou would let his guard down, when he would show the soft, vulnerable side that Zhong Qing had fallen in love with. Those moments were fleeting but powerful, and they haunted him, making it impossible to completely sever the bond between them.

But those memories were now overshadowed by the harsh reality of their present. Ye Rou had changed, or maybe he had always been this way, and Zhong Qing had been too blind to see it. The man who had once made him feel cherished now made him feel broken, as if he was nothing more than a disposable piece in Ye Rou's twisted game. And yet, despite it all, Zhong Qing couldn't bring himself to hate him. The love he felt was too deeply ingrained in his soul, too much a part of who he was.

The silence between them was unbearable, but Zhong Qing didn't know how to break it. Every time he considered speaking to Ye Rou, fear crept in—fear of what Ye Rou would say, of how he would respond. What if talking only made things worse? What if Ye Rou rejected him, cold and indifferent? The thought alone was enough to keep Zhong Qing locked in his room, staring at the door, hoping, waiting for Ye Rou to come to him instead.

But the door never opened.

As the days slipped by, Zhong Qing felt himself suffocating under the weight of his emotions. He couldn't go on like this. He missed Ye Rou—missed the way things used to be before everything had spiraled out of control. He missed the rare, quiet moments they shared, when Ye Rou's defenses would come down, and they could just be together without the complications of power and manipulation. He longed for those moments, even though he knew they were few and far between.

Zhong Qing tried to convince himself that he could move on, that he could let go of the love that had caused him so much pain. But every time he tried, his heart refused to listen. He still wanted Ye Rou. He still loved him. And the thought of losing him completely—of walking away and never seeing him again—was too much to bear.

One evening, as the mansion was bathed in the soft, fading light of dusk, Zhong Qing made up his mind. He couldn't take the silence any longer. He needed to talk to Ye Rou. He needed to tell him how he felt, even if it meant risking everything. The fear of rejection still loomed over him, but the pain of staying silent was far worse.

He left his room, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls as he made his way to Ye Rou's study. His heart pounded in his chest, each step bringing him closer to the confrontation he had been dreading. When he finally reached the door, he paused, his hand hovering above the doorknob. For a moment, doubt crept in. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should just turn back. But then he took a deep breath, steeling himself, and pushed the door open.

Ye Rou was sitting at his desk, his back to the door, deep in thought. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of a lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Zhong Qing stood in the doorway, his heart racing as he watched Ye Rou, trying to gather the courage to speak.

"Ye Rou," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ye Rou turned at the sound of his voice, his expression unreadable as he looked at Zhong Qing. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly masked by his usual cool demeanor. Zhong Qing could feel the tension between them, thick and suffocating, but he forced himself to keep going.

"I need to talk to you," Zhong Qing said, his voice trembling slightly, though he tried to sound firm. "I can't keep doing this—this silence, this distance. It's tearing me apart."

Ye Rou's expression remained cold, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned back in his chair. "And what exactly do you want to talk about?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain.

Zhong Qing's heart sank at the tone of his voice, but he pressed on. "I still love you, Ye Rou," he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I know you've hurt me, I know what you've done, but I can't help it. I still care about you. I don't want to lose you."

For a moment, there was silence. Ye Rou stared at him, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then, a cruel smile slowly spread across his face.

"Love?" Ye Rou scoffed, standing up from his chair and taking a step toward Zhong Qing. "You're a fool, Qing'er. Love is nothing more than a weakness—a tool to be used against those who are too stupid to see the truth. And you, of all people, should know that by now."

Zhong Qing flinched at Ye Rou's words, the cruelty in his voice cutting deep. But he refused to back down. "Maybe it is a weakness," he said quietly, his voice trembling but determined. "But it's also what makes us human. It's what makes life worth living. You can say whatever you want, but I know that, deep down, you've felt it too."

Ye Rou's smile faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his composure, his expression hardening. "You're delusional," he said coldly. "I've used you, Zhong Qing. I've manipulated you, controlled you, and you've let me. You were nothing more than a pawn in my game."

The words felt like a dagger to Zhong Qing's heart, but he didn't let them break him. "Is that all I am to you?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. "Just a pawn? After everything we've been through, after all the time we've spent together, that's all I am?"

Ye Rou's gaze wavered for just a moment, but then his cold, calculated mask returned. "You were useful," he said flatly. "But now? You've outlived your usefulness. You're nothing to me."

Zhong Qing's breath caught in his throat, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. But even as tears threatened to spill, he stood his ground. "Maybe I was nothing to you," he said softly, "but I'm not nothing. I'm more than what you made me out to be."

For the first time, something shifted in Ye Rou's eyes—something that Zhong Qing couldn't quite place. It was a flash of vulnerability, quickly hidden beneath layers of arrogance and control. Ye Rou took another step forward, his voice low and dangerous.

"You think you can just walk away from me?" he hissed, his hand shooting out to grab Zhong Qing by the collar. "You think I'll let you leave?"

Zhong Qing's heart raced, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he looked Ye Rou straight in the eyes, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him. "I'm not yours to control anymore," he said firmly. "I'm done being your pawn."

For a moment, Ye Rou's grip tightened, his expression twisted with anger. But then, slowly, something in him seemed to break. His hands trembled, his control slipping away as the walls he had built around himself began to crumble. Zhong Qing could see it now—the fear behind Ye Rou's rage, the desperation that had been hiding beneath the surface all along.

"You think you can defy me?" Ye Rou spat, but there was a crack in his voice, a sign that Zhong Qing's words had struck a nerve. "You think I'll just let you walk away?"

Zhong Qing shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "I don't need your permission to leave," he said quietly. "I'm not afraid of you anymore."

For the first time, Ye Rou looked truly shaken, his ironclad control crumbling before Zhong Qing's eyes. He had always been the one in control, the one pulling the strings, but now, for the first time, he was powerless.

And in that moment, Zhong Qing realized that he was the one holding the power. The chains that had bound him to Ye Rou were gone, and he was finally free.

He stepped back, pulling himself out of Ye Rou's grasp, his heart pounding but his resolve stronger than ever. "Goodbye, Ye Rou," he said softly.

Zhong Qing didn't flinch. The old Zhong Qing might have—he might have cowered under the weight of Ye Rou's fury, shrinking back into the corner of the man's control. But not anymore. The tremor in Ye Rou's grip was proof enough that the tables had turned, however subtly. They weren't master and servant anymore, and the realization made Zhong Qing's pulse quicken, even as Ye Rou's hands clenched his collar tighter.

"Let go of me, Ye Rou," Zhong Qing said softly, his voice calm and unshaken. "You don't need to do this."

Ye Rou's eyes flashed with anger, his grip tightening as if daring Zhong Qing to resist. But Zhong Qing remained still, standing his ground, his gaze locked on Ye Rou's. "I said let go," he repeated, more firmly this time.

For a long moment, they stood there, the tension between them crackling like electricity in the air. Then, slowly—reluctantly—Ye Rou's hands loosened, and he let go, pushing Zhong Qing back with a snarl.

"You think you're better than me now, don't you?" Ye Rou spat, stepping away, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and something else—something darker. "You think because you've found a little courage, you can walk away?"

"I don't think I'm better than you," Zhong Qing replied quietly, rubbing the spot on his collar where Ye Rou had grabbed him. "But I do think I'm done letting you control me."

Ye Rou's laugh was bitter, cold. "Control you? You act like I forced you into this." He took a step closer, his gaze sharp, predatory. "You chose this, Qing'er. You chose me. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you."

Zhong Qing didn't back down, even as Ye Rou's words cut deep. There was a painful truth in what he said. He had chosen this—chosen Ye Rou, time and time again, despite the warning signs, despite the manipulation, despite the pain. But that didn't mean he had to keep choosing it. That didn't mean he had to keep letting himself be a victim of Ye Rou's games.

"I did choose you," Zhong Qing admitted, his voice quiet but resolute. "But that doesn't mean I have to keep choosing you. People change, Ye Rou. Feelings change."

Ye Rou's face twisted into a sneer, his eyes narrowing. "You're a coward," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "You think you can just walk away and pretend like none of this happened? Like you weren't complicit in everything?"

Zhong Qing felt a surge of anger rise within him, but he pushed it down, refusing to let Ye Rou's words bait him. "I'm not pretending anything," he said, his voice steady. "I know what I did. I know I let you manipulate me. But that ends now."

Ye Rou's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. "You think you can leave me, just like that?" His voice was low, dangerous, like the calm before a storm. "You think I'll let you?"

"I don't need your permission," Zhong Qing replied calmly, meeting Ye Rou's gaze without flinching. "I'm not yours to keep."

Something in Ye Rou's expression shifted then—a flicker of uncertainty, of doubt. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Zhong Qing saw it. He could see the cracks in Ye Rou's armor, the vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface. For so long, Ye Rou had been the one in control, the one pulling the strings. But now, for the first time, Zhong Qing realized that he had the power to walk away—to break free from the hold Ye Rou had over him.

And that terrified Ye Rou.

"Don't be foolish, Qing'er," Ye Rou said, his voice softening, taking on a more seductive tone. He reached out, his hand brushing against Zhong Qing's cheek, a gesture that once would have made Zhong Qing's heart race. "You know you need me. You always have."

Zhong Qing's heart clenched at the touch, a part of him yearning for the comfort that Ye Rou used to provide—the illusion of safety, of belonging. But it was just that—an illusion. He couldn't keep living in it, couldn't keep letting himself be drawn back into Ye Rou's web.

"I don't need you," Zhong Qing said, his voice quiet but firm. "Not anymore."

Ye Rou's hand dropped, his expression hardening once more. "You're making a mistake," he said coldly, his eyes narrowing. "You'll regret this."

"Maybe," Zhong Qing said, stepping back, putting more distance between them. "But I'd rather regret leaving than regret staying."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Ye Rou's gaze burned into him, but Zhong Qing didn't waver. He had made his choice. And for the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace, a sense of clarity.

Without another word, Zhong Qing turned and walked toward the door. His heart was pounding in his chest, but his steps were steady, his resolve firm. He could feel Ye Rou's eyes on him, could feel the weight of his presence, but he didn't look back. He couldn't. Not if he wanted to walk away for good.

As he reached for the door, Ye Rou's voice rang out, sharp and cold. "You'll come back," he said, his tone laced with certainty. "You always do."

Zhong Qing paused, his hand on the doorknob. For a moment, he considered responding—considered telling Ye Rou that this time was different, that he wasn't coming back. But he didn't. There was no point in trying to convince Ye Rou of something he wouldn't believe.

Instead, Zhong Qing opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving Ye Rou behind.

The mansion felt different as he walked through its halls, quieter, emptier. The silence that had once suffocated him now felt strangely freeing. He could still feel the weight of everything that had happened between him and Ye Rou, the memories that clung to him like shadows. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breathe.

As Zhong Qing made his way toward the front doors of the mansion, he felt a strange sense of finality settle over him. This was it. This was the moment he had been dreading, the moment he had been avoiding for so long. But it didn't feel as terrifying as he had thought it would. It felt right.

He paused at the threshold, glancing back one last time at the mansion that had been his home for so long. A part of him still ached for what could have been—for the love he had once shared with Ye Rou, for the life they could have built together if things had been different. But that part of him was growing smaller, quieter. He knew now that it was time to let go.

With a deep breath, Zhong Qing stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of his decision settling over him like a heavy but necessary burden. He didn't know what the future held—didn't know if he would ever truly be free of Ye Rou's influence. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was taking control of his own life.

And that, more than anything, gave him hope.