After Failing to Reverse the Plot, I Made My Escape - Chapter 35

“Baby, I am always here.”

If one were to ask what Yu Fuqiu had left in this world, he might have previously answered with calm certainty: Chang Tingzhi. He once thought he would die in that swirling snow, but heaven gave him another chance. It allowed him to give birth to a child.

Chun Chun was an exceptionally well-behaved child. Once, while Yu Fuqiu was on a film set having just finished a scene, the nanny called him. She asked hesitantly, “Mr. Yu, is Chun Chun not very active?”

Yu Fuqiu was taken aback. He opened the home security camera and saw one-year-old Chun Chun sitting quietly in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. The child’s eyes were wide as he crawled forward repeatedly toward the glass. Whenever someone passed by outside, he would crawl closer, over and over, as if he were waiting for something. At first, Yu Fuqiu did not know what he was looking at. He thought the child was simply curious about the world outside.

That day after work, when he passed by that same window, he looked up and met the gaze of Chun Chun sitting there. The dim yellow light cast the child’s shadow long across the floor, and Yu Fuqiu’s heart melted. He rushed inside. The moment he opened the door, Chun Chun babbled and crawled toward him from the window.

“Ya, ya.”

With baby teeth already growing and speech still blurred, Chun Chun was scooped up into Yu Fuqiu’s arms. He buried his head into his father’s chest, his chubby little face breaking into a constant smile.

“He really missed you. Chun Chun stayed by that window all day and was so quiet. Even when I brought his favorite ‘Awoo’ toy, he was not interested,” the nanny teased.

Holding Chun Chun, Yu Fuqiu walked slowly to the window. His footsteps suddenly stopped. He realized what Chun Chun had been looking at. From this angle, one could see the entrance to the community perfectly. Every person and car entering was visible. Chun Chun was waiting for him.

The twilight was gentle, and the setting sun spread across the entrance, gilding everything in a warm glow. In that deep golden haze, a familiar black car slid silently into view like a tired bird returning to its nest, stopping below the building. The car door opened, and a tall, upright figure stepped out. Against the light, his silhouette was somewhat blurred.

Chang Tingzhi seemed to sense something and suddenly looked up. His gaze pierced through the deepening twilight, past the layers of buildings, and met Yu Fuqiu’s behind the glass. In the moment their eyes met, the corners of Chang Tingzhi’s lips curled up naturally. Carrying a bouquet of flowers and waving a cake box, he mouthed to Yu Fuqiu, “I am home!”

Chun Chun seemed to sense it too. He squirmed excitedly in Yu Fuqiu’s arms, reaching out his small hands toward the window, and clearly uttered a syllable that had not been heard in a long time.

“Pa, Papa!”

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that moment, the gentle afterglow freezing the scene.

When Chun Chun grew older, Yu Fuqiu occasionally picked him up from school. Wrapped in a heavy padded coat, Chun Chun skipped along while holding Yu Fuqiu’s hand. He looked up intently at Yu Fuqiu and said in a milky voice, “Mommy.”

“Hmm?”

“You look so beautiful today.” Chun Chun pulled an oil painting from his bag. “Like a little pink bear.”

“A bear?” Yu Fuqiu looked down at him with a smile. “Does that mean I look a bit sturdy?”

“Not at all!” Surrounded by white snow, Chun Chun’s eyes held only the warm color of Yu Fuqiu. He shook his head. “Everything around us is bare, but you are a fuzzy little flower.”

At that moment, Yu Fuqiu felt as if his heart had been struck. Looking at Chun Chun, whose features so closely resembled Chang Tingzhi’s, his eyes grew teary as he picked the boy up. “If Mommy is a little flower, then you are a tiny flower. Tiny flower, grow slowly, so Mommy can stay with you a little longer.”

My baby, walk slowly. Just walk slowly.

Chang Tingzhi’s memory of that interval was blurred. He only remembered being supported by someone as they entered a hotel. He had no strength left in his body, but he could feel a person’s hot breath near his ear. But that was not Yu Fuqiu. He could clearly sense that it was not the scent that gave him peace. A physical revulsion climbed up from his limbs, yet he could not move, forced to remain at the mercy of others until his consciousness fell into a dark abyss.

“I said, get out.”

Chang Tingzhi struggled away from Ke Qi’an. His face bore an unnatural flush, his suit was a mess, and his tie had been tossed aside.

“Azhi, what is wrong?” Ke Qi’an opened his eyes in confusion. His face quickly shifted into his usual innocent and aggrieved expression. He reached out to grab Chang Tingzhi’s disheveled collar, his fingertips deliberately brushing against the man’s Adam’s apple. “It is me, An’an. Have you forgotten?”

His voice was soft and clingy, filled with forced intimacy. “Were we not just fine a moment ago?” He blinked, continuing in a tone mixed with complaint and affection. “It hurts. I saw that you drank too much and worked so hard to get you to the room. Do you know how heavy you are?” He wrinkled his nose and pouted his red lips. “You really need to lose weight, or next time you get this drunk, you will truly crush me.”

Seeing that Chang Tingzhi only stared at him expressionlessly with bottomless eyes, a flash of unease crossed Ke Qi’an’s heart, but it was overshadowed by his refusal to give up. He leaned in closer, bringing his beautifully curved lips near, his long lashes drooping as his voice dropped to an ambiguous whisper. “Besides, Azhi, if the weight difference is too great, in the future, if we have a baby, pregnancy will be very difficult and dangerous. You should cherish me more and think more about our future.”

As he spoke, he tilted his face up again and closed his eyes, his lashes trembling as he waited for the familiar touch and indulgence.

“Get out!”

The only response Ke Qi’an received was a single, cold word, suppressed with raging fury.

“What?” Ke Qi’an opened his eyes in disbelief, meeting those icy eyes. He shuddered. “You do not remember who I am?”

Ke Qi’an’s breath hitched.

“I said, get out.” Chang Tingzhi violently threw off the hand clutching his collar. Even while drugged, his strength was staggering, causing Ke Qi’an to stumble off the bed.

“You are that Chang Tingzhi, aren’t you?!” Ke Qi’an’s voice suddenly sharpened, losing all pretense of gentleness and becoming shrill. Like a man grasping at a final straw, he lunged forward and grabbed Chang Tingzhi’s open collar, shaking it with eyes full of paranoid madness.

“Look at me! I am your fated lover! Our meeting is written in destiny! Our love is the only correct script!” His words poured out like rapid fire. “If it were not for that shameless slut Yu Fuqiu, who crawled in like a sewer rat to tamper with everything and took advantage of your amnesia, how could I have missed you for fifteen years?!”

He became more agitated, his face twisted by anger and jealousy. “He is just a calculating person who stepped over my position to climb up! A shameless fake who wanted to replace me! What is he? How is he worthy to stand by you? To receive your gaze?”

Ke Qi’an stared into Chang Tingzhi’s bottomless, calm eyes, a sob entering his voice. “Azhi, I am back now! I am the one who should be by your side! We are together to return everything to the right track! Forget that fake; he is not worthy! I am your protagonist! I am the one you should love!”

However, Chang Tingzhi simply allowed him to hold his collar, his cold gaze scrutinizing the face made hideous by jealousy as he listened to the malicious slander.

“And so?” Chang Tingzhi watched him go mad.

“And so? I must erase everything! I am the protagonist! I am the protagonist of this world! He is just degraded garbage that has been used by everyone. He should not even exist in this world!”

“Degraded?”

“Erase?”

“Slut?”

Slap!

A crisp, loud slap struck Ke Qi’an’s face without mercy. The force caused Ke Qi’an’s head to snap to the side, and a clear red handprint instantly appeared on his fair cheek.

“What are you, that you dare to speak of him that way?”

“I have known for a long time that this world is a novel. I am the protagonist, the ‘Gong,’ and I would eventually meet my protagonist, the ‘Shou.'”

Ke Qi’an froze, slowly turning back while clutching his face.

“I loathe being controlled by a plot. This world is a novel; it is fake. Why should I follow a predetermined path? Just because of a few sentences, my parents are dead? I was thrown into a place filled with drugs and filth? I was sold to a circus and nearly had my limbs chopped off to be made into a vase for people’s amusement? I fought to escape, only for this world to tell me this was my setting to make me tragic just so you could redeem me?”

He stepped heavily on Ke Qi’an’s chest, his voice as cold as ice. “Are you kidding me?!”

“I will make sure it does not get its way. I will leave this disgusting plot!”

Ke Qi’an was initially incredulous, but then he burst into frantic laughter. “You noticed, didn’t you? You had a car accident, and a second personality appeared. Why do you think that despite all of Yu Fuqiu’s efforts, I just stood there and you still followed the plot to this hotel with me?”

Chang Tingzhi’s expression paused, becoming unreadable. He slowly crouched down and grabbed Ke Qi’an’s collar.

“You do not yet know what your second personality did to Yu Fuqiu, do you? He came to bring you soup, and I kicked him out. I poured all the soup away. Yu Fuqiu left with the thermos looking devastated. Guess where he went?”

Ke Qi’an opened his phone and played a video. The footage was shaky and the quality was low, but it was clear enough. The background was a torrential downpour. Through the speakers came the sound of heavy rain and distant traffic. In the center of the frame was a slender, thin figure: Yu Fuqiu.

He stood alone on the street, his long hair completely soaked and clinging to his pale cheeks. His thin clothes were drenched, outlining his frail frame. He held his arms, his body shivering uncontrollably from the cold. His lips were purple, and his eyes were empty as he stared ahead, like a bird with wet feathers abandoned in a storm.

Chang Tingzhi’s pupils contracted violently at the sight.

The video continued. A second later, the camera jolted as the person filming moved closer. Several dirty, rough hands belonging to adult men suddenly reached from the edge of the frame, brutally grabbing Yu Fuqiu’s soaked arms and shoulders. Yu Fuqiu seemed to struggle, letting out a blurred cry muffled by the rain. But the hands were powerful; they dragged him forcefully toward the entrance of a dark, narrow alleyway filled with junk.

The video ended there, and the screen went black. But the final image of Yu Fuqiu’s back being dragged into the dark alley echoed in Chang Tingzhi’s mind.

The room fell deathly silent. Chang Tingzhi stood still, but the coldness on his face seemed to crack, allowing something darker and more violent to surge out. His knuckles cracked as he balled his fists, and veins bulged on the back of his hands.

Ke Qi’an held the phone, his face filled with a twisted, nearly manic triumph. “See that? In the places where you cannot see, he is just a piece of meat that anyone can, Ah!”

He could not finish. Chang Tingzhi had lunged and grabbed him by the throat. Even with the heavy dosage of the drug, the man’s rage provided a terrifying strength. His eyes were bloodshot.

“He is afraid of the dark, and his health is poor. I spent ten years taking care of him just so he could be comfortable in the winter. On such a cold, rainy day, wearing so little, how cold must he have been? I never had the heart to let him suffer even a bit. Every time he cried, it broke my heart. I rescued him from those scumbags, blew up that mental asylum, and held him in my arms again.”

Chang Tingzhi’s voice dropped lower, becoming even more dangerous, like the silence before a storm. He stared at Ke Qi’an, whose face was turning gray. “The baby I treasure more than my own life, you dared to treat him like this?”

He tightened his grip. Ke Qi’an’s eyes bulged from the lack of oxygen. “And you, you dare to treat him this way?!”

Chang Tingzhi suddenly let go. Ke Qi’an gasped for air like a fish out of water. He truly thought he was going to die. While he was still gasping and his brain was buzzing, a shadow loomed over him again.

Chang Tingzhi tilted his head, watching Ke Qi’an’s distorted, red face. Then, very slowly, he curled his lips into a beautiful smile. He looked at the shivering Ke Qi’an and said clearly, “You see, while you are alive, you always seem to make him unhappy. You make him sad and put him in danger. So, why don’t you just die? Okay?”

“You are not him. The plot is not supposed to be like this!” Ke Qi’an shook his head in terror, trying to crawl backward. Those eyes were like cold venomous snakes coiling around him. “I am the one who redeems you. You should listen to me, spoil me, and love me. It is all Yu Fuqiu’s fault, that slut.”

Slap!

Another slap struck the other side of his face.

“I told you, if you dare to slander him again, I will make your life a living hell.”

“A living hell?” Ke Qi’an burst into sharp, twisted laughter. Red veins filled his eyes. “Do you think bringing you to a hotel was just to have someone take photos? You underestimate me, Chang Tingzhi, and you overestimate Yu Fuqiu’s luck. Tonight, at the intersection in the west of the city, during the busiest traffic,” He mouthed a single word, “Bang!”

“Yes, while you were holding me on the bed, they flew out like broken dolls. It was disgusting to see so much blood coming from that little brat. Hahaha!” He laughed neurotically. “I found people who are not afraid to die. Do you think they would be gentle? It is a question whether they even made it to the operating room alive. Even if they live, they will be cripples. Do you still want them? The amnesiac you is a person of extreme self interest. Do you still want a slut who is half dead and dragging along a crippled brat?!”

His chest heaved with the pleasure of mutual destruction. “If I cannot have it, he won’t have it either. He stole my things, so I will destroy everything of his. You were mine to begin with. I would not have blamed you for having a brat with that person. You were just deluded by him. But I will correct everything.”

He touched Chang Tingzhi’s face obsessively. Since he was young, he had dreamed of this face. A voice told him this was his fated lover. That was why on that rainy day, he followed his intuition to that dark alley. But except for a bloody coat, there was nothing. He did not see his lover. Much later, he realized his lover had been stolen.

“Even if you kill me now, they are not coming back!” Ke Qi’an laughed frantically. “Maybe he was lucky and kept his miserable life, but will he forgive you? He and the child were at the edge of life and death while you were here with me. Do you think he will still forgive you?!”

Chang Tingzhi watched him quietly. There was no expected explosion of rage.

“Do you all have some misunderstanding of me?” Chang Tingzhi’s voice rose at the end. He said “you all” instead of just “you.” His expression was cold and unreadable. “You think this is how you control me?”

He grabbed Ke Qi’an’s chin. “What do the lives of ants have to do with me? Why do you think Qiuqiu is so devoted to me now? I could rescue him, and naturally, I can keep him by my side for a lifetime.”

Forgiveness? Not important. Love or not? Also not important. If he wanted to run, then he would simply stay by his side forever. He would eliminate everyone around him so that the man’s eyes could only see him.

“Is it because I have been too gentle that you think you can stand above everything?” Chang Tingzhi chuckled. “A fool is a fool. I gave you a few chances, and you thought you were superior. If not for Qiuqiu, I would have already.”

He whispered something under his breath. Ke Qi’an’s pupils contracted. His brain screamed at him to flee. Suddenly, a sharp pain struck his neck. Before he lost consciousness, all he could see were Chang Tingzhi’s inorganic, black eyes.

Chang Tingzhi could no longer support himself and collapsed to the floor. He propped himself up and coughed out a large mouthful of blood. The dosage Ke Qi’an had given him was too high. The heat in his body climbed uncontrollably, and his vision blurred.

A voice in his ear seemed to be screaming at him to touch the person before him. If he did, the pain would vanish. A strong drive lured him toward the unconscious person on the floor. Chang Tingzhi’s consciousness flickered, and the world began to shake and double in his vision.

An indescribable heat and a sense of emptiness coiled around him like vines, frantically consuming his remaining logic and willpower.

“Qiuqiu.”

“Qiuqiu.”

It was so stifling, so hot, and so unbearable.

His hand reached out slowly, but just as he was about to touch the hem of the other person’s clothes, he bit the tip of his tongue hard. The metallic tang of blood mixed with the gore he was already coughing up.

No. He could not.

He could not touch anyone in this state, not while his body was controlled by drugs and influenced by another personality. Qiuqiu would not like it. He could not be dirty. He wanted to offer himself to Qiuqiu clean and whole.

“Qiuqiu, my Qiuqiu,” he murmured unconsciously, like a lost child calling out to his only lighthouse.

But the pain was immense. Chang Tingzhi propped up his failing body and staggered. From the inner lining pocket of his suit, close to his heart, he pulled out a neatly folded, faded white handkerchief. That was a handkerchief Yu Fuqiu had forgotten with him long ago. He gripped the fabric tightly as if it were his last lifeline.

He stumbled into the bathroom. Cold water poured from the showerhead. He did not even have time to undress before submerging himself in the bathtub full of freezing water, the shock making his entire frame shudder.

He cried out Yu Fuqiu’s name, burying his face in the icy water and pressing the handkerchief firmly against his nose. He sought to draw strength from it to resist the drug coursing through his veins.

He knew his time at the surface was limited and sensed he might soon lose himself again. He just had not expected that after fifteen years, this moment would arrive when he was at his weakest and most chaotic.

Even the freezing water could not fully suppress the fire. A brain fog settled in, and a voice echoed in his mind, urging him to touch Ke Qi’an. It told him that Ke Qi’an was his fated lover, and that if he followed the plot, his pain would vanish and he would live a happy, peaceful life.

But then, the video from Ke Qi’an’s phone flashed before his eyes. The torrential rain, Yu Fuqiu’s thin, shivering figure, and those filthy hands dragging him toward the dark alleyway.

How cold he must have been.

His Qiuqiu, who would grope for his hand in the middle of the night and tuck cold little feet into his warmth, whispering, “Tingzhi, come with me, it is dark outside.” His baby, whom he had pampered in the palm of his hand.

In that freezing, muddy, and filthy night, when he was dragged into the darkness, how terrified must he have been? Had he cried out his name? Had he prayed in despair for a rescue?

He had spent decades by his side just to help him walk out of fear, making him depend on him more. He was so close to possessing him completely, to being the only light in his world. Why was everyone trying to stop him from loving Yu Fuqiu? Why were they trying to tear them apart?

The rumors, the accident, the amnesia, and now, a venomous insect like Ke Qi’an and those scumbags in the video. By what right? By what right did they touch his treasure? By what right did they make him suffer like this?

Just because he was the protagonist of a novel, must he follow the author’s will? He did not even have the right to choose.

And the accident? Ke Qi’an’s crazed words rang like a curse, stating they flew out and blood flowed from the little brat.

His Qiuqiu. His Chun Chun. That seven year old child who called him “Papa” and clumsily tried to protect his mother, with eyes that curved like crescents when he smiled. How could anyone lay a hand on him? How dared they?

He was only seven years old.

A sharp pain flared. His heart felt as if an invisible hand were crushing and kneading it. The pain was sharper than the heat of the drugs. A mouthful of blood choked out of his nose and mouth, blooming into startling red flowers in the clear water of the tub.

His vision blurred. His consciousness was a flickering candle in the wind.

Wait for me, Qiuqiu. Wait for me.

With trembling fingers, he pulled out his phone and used his last bit of clarity to call Yu Zhuo. The call connected, but the ringing felt like it lasted a century.

He did not believe in gods. He never had. He only believed in himself and the power of control. But in this moment, looking at the blood in the water, he closed his eyes and offered a silent, humble prayer.

Please. Let my Qiuqiu and Chun Chun be okay.

The hospital hallway lights were a constant, cold white. The air smelled of bitter disinfectant. Everything was quiet and oppressive, save for the occasional murmurs from the nurse’s station. Chang Tingzhi stood before a closed door.

He wore a well-tailored dark gray coat, his tall figure looking out of place in the suffocatingly quiet ward. His face was calm and distant, but his tightly pursed lips and the misaligned buttons on his coat betrayed his inner turmoil. This was a panic he perhaps did not even recognize himself.

Vague memories of “accident,” “serious injury,” and “one week” swirled in his mind. He was Yu Fuqiu’s legal husband; it was only right for him to visit, regardless of his feelings. But standing there, a subtle throb of pain and irritation rose within him.

He thought of the video on his phone and Yu Fuqiu’s calm face as he spoke of his grievances. He did not scream or ask why Tingzhi was not there. He did not ask who the other person was.

Did Yu Fuqiu love him? Certainly. But why did he not act like a normal wife and demand to know where he had been? Why did he not call when Tingzhi was past his curfew?

Although Chang Tingzhi did not like being strictly controlled, he felt a strange sense of agitation. He remembered a colleague who refused a drink, saying, “My wife won’t let me. She has a sharp nose. If I drink, she makes me stand at the door. I have to coax her for a long time.” The man had looked so happy.

When the clock struck ten, the man’s phone rang. He complained, but his face was full of pride as he said, “My wife is calling me home. She is fierce, but she always leaves a light on and prepares hangover soup for me.”

Chang Tingzhi reached for the door handle. He felt he was starting to understand.

A creak sounded. The noise was sharp in the silent corridor. He pushed the door open. A faint scent of mandarin orange mixed with disinfectant greeted him. The room was dim, lit only by a bedside lamp.

It illuminated a figure curled up on the bed. Chang Tingzhi’s gaze bypassed the medical equipment and the IV lines in the thin hand. The room was warm, yet he felt a sudden chill. He stepped closer, his heart tightening.

Yu Fuqiu was asleep, but it was not a peaceful rest. His brow was furrowed, his lashes trembled, and he let out a soft, pained whimper. Chang Tingzhi felt a sharp pang in his heart.

He was so thin. He was thinner than the last time they met. His face was a transparent white, making the dark circles under his eyes look startling. Was it because of the child? Or because of him?

Before coming here, he had seen the child. He never expected his first meeting with his son to be like this. Chun Chun lay there, a seven year old covered in tubes, the silence broken only by the beep of monitors. Seeing that small boy, a sharp pain had surged in his chest. He had wanted to bear that pain for him.

He should have found it troublesome, an amnesiac’s wife and a child he did not know. But looking at the fearful, exhausted face before him, he could not help but reach out to touch that furrowed brow.

This touch was like a switch. Chang Tingzhi no longer hesitated. He took off his cold coat, lifted a corner of the blanket, and carefully climbed onto the narrow hospital bed. He pulled the shivering body into his arms.

In that instant, all the noise in the world vanished. He instinctively knew the most comfortable way to hold Yu Fuqiu. His warm body and familiar scent began to wrap around the other man.

Yu Fuqiu jolted. He woke from his nightmare, his eyes wide with lingering fear and tears. He blinked, unable to understand what was happening. But the scent was so familiar.

“Tingzhi? Is it you?” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Why have you come into my dream?”

He thought it was a hallucination. “Maybe I missed you too much,” he murmured.

“This winter is so cold,” Yu Fuqiu said, burying his head in Tingzhi’s chest. Tingzhi held the man’s cold hands against his warm abdomen.

Yu Fuqiu let out a sigh of contentment. “I brought you soup, but you were so mean. You threw it away and would not see me. I walked so far in the rain without enough clothes, and I met bad people. But I forgive you. You are sick, so I can only forgive you.”

He traced Tingzhi’s features with his fingers. “When the accident happened, I was so scared. I was relieved when you woke up, but you… you did not remember me. You were so cold. I felt so wronged.”

He sniffled, his eyes red. “But I cannot rely on you anymore. You are sick. As long as you are alive, it is fine. You will remember me eventually. When Chun Chun had the accident and you were not there, I endured it. But it hurt. There was so much blood, and no one helped me. I thought, if Tingzhi were here, he would hold me and tell me everything is okay.”

Tears fell onto Tingzhi’s shirt. “Then I heard you went to a hotel with him. I was so upset I ended up in the hospital. I am so stupid. But then you explained it to me. The amnesiac you, who was so mean, still explained it. So I believe you. Even if you do not remember, your body remembers that you love me.”

“That is enough, Xiao Shu.”

“Xiao Shu.”

“Hmm,” Chang Tingzhi finally responded after a long silence. “I am here.”

Yu Fuqiu looked up and closed his eyes. Chang Tingzhi could no longer resist. He cupped the back of Yu Fuqiu’s head and kissed him. It began gently but turned fierce, as if venting all the resentment and longing of the past weeks.

When the kiss finally broke, they were both breathless. Yu Fuqiu leaned his forehead against Tingzhi’s. The empty part of his heart was filled.

Outside, the rain fell. Inside, it was warm. This room was a small world that held all of Yu Fuqiu’s dreams. Like the child in the ancestral hall who prayed for a bun, he was willing to pay whatever price for this greed.

He just did not expect the price to come so soon.