The "Honest" Beta Deceived Day and Night by a Twisted Obsessive - Chapter 15

Every part of you should be stained with my mark.

After Xie Yun was rushed into the emergency room, Duan Huaijing walked out of the hospital entrance to breathe some fresh air.

Ten minutes earlier, the people around Xie Yun had been frantically making calls while a crowd of onlookers gathered, their whispers surrounding him like a stifling cocoon. But Duan’s eyes had seen only one thing: that black car that had vanished into the stream of traffic after the collision.

“The Eyes” had really done it. He had run Xie Yun over.

He had struck the CEO of the Xie Group.

“The Eyes” had made plenty of enemies with this move. In a few hours, the entire city would likely be plastered with his wanted posters.

Duan Huaijing felt a surge of genuine catharsis. For the first time, he took the initiative to send a message, his tone unmasking a biting, sarcastic edge.

“You’ve really done it this time. Just wait for them to come and collect you!”

After hitting send, Duan let out a heavy sigh of relief. He was in a rare good mood, hoping Xie Yun’s subordinates would move quickly and lock “The Eyes” away for good.

“The Eyes,” who usually replied instantly, took a long time to answer this time. Duan assumed he was simply terrified and didn’t know how to respond.

He felt a sense of borrowed authority he didn’t even realize he was projecting; it was as if as long as Xie Yun won, he would win by default.

Thus, when he finally clicked on the notification, he didn’t take it seriously, until he saw the reply.

Does baby think he can stay out of this now?

Why do you always want to leave me?

I told you, you are mine. You belong to me alone. Every inch of your body should be stained with my mark.

I want our names to be together, too. No one can separate us.

Xie Yun? If he follows the trail to find me, he’ll find you, too.

And I. I will haunt you forever and ever.

The long string of messages plunged Duan Huaijing into an icy cellar. He stared at the lines of text, his eyes aching, yet he couldn’t squeeze out a single tear; instead, they turned a bloodshot, angry red.

A perspective he had never considered or perhaps was too afraid to consider, invaded his mind.

His head began to throb, and his balance wavered.

He mocked himself internally: That’s right. From the second that contract was formed, my entanglement with “The Eyes” began.

A fight to the death.

Neither could shake the other. They were like twin rats hiding in a gutter; if one was exposed to the light, the other would be dragged out with them.

Duan Huaijing closed his eyes tightly. He couldn’t escape.

Immediately after, “The Eyes” sent an image.

The content was simple, just a few words.

Duan Huaijing,  is mine.

The handwriting was crooked and shaky, like a primary school student learning to write their own name for the first time. Each stroke was more like a drawing than a word, the lines trembling and unstable, yet the pressure was so intense it looked as if it could cut through the thin paper.

Solemnity, stubbornness, paranoia, obsession, and a suffocating desire for control. That was the first impression the words gave.

Toward the end, it seemed the writer had suffered a mental break; they had frantically circled the name “Duan Huaijing” over and over again, like a cage trapping the three characters inside.

Duan Huaijing felt a sense of suffocation emanating from the script, as if his breath were being stolen through the screen.

“The Eyes” refused to let him go, almost as if punishing him for trying to draw a line between them.

We truly are a match made in heaven.

Duan Huaijing felt a wave of nausea!

He gripped his phone with both hands and typed so hard the device wobbled.

“You are disgusting!!!!”

Baby is so pitiful, being loved by someone disgusting.

Duan Huaijing felt his recent meal threatening to rise up his throat again.

*****

A few days later, word came that Xie Yun was out of danger. While the Xie family was immersed in joy, Duan Huaijing’s anxiety only deepened.

The words of “The Eyes” were like a thorn in his heart. Every time he thought of Xie Yun, he fretted. While Xie Yun had been in the hospital, everyone was busy looking after him and stabilizing the company; they hadn’t had the energy to check the surveillance footage or investigate the driver.

Now that Xie Yun was being discharged, the matter was back on the table.

The car “The Eyes” drove was unremarkable, and even without a license plate, if Xie Yun wanted to find someone, he would find them. Not only that, but he could easily discover that Duan had had physical contact with the man at the haunted house.

When that time came, he would be beyond defense.

Misfortune always strikes the most vulnerable spot. Just as Duan’s mind was a chaotic mess, a knock came at his door.

Duan felt like his heart didn’t belong to him anymore; it hammered wildly in his chest. He snapped his head toward the door and swallowed hard.

Did they find out this quickly?

He dragged his feet toward the door, hoping the person outside would think no one was home and leave. But after two more knocks, he had no choice but to pull the door open.

Behind it stood two unsmiling bodyguards, looking stern and professional.

Duan Huaijing kept one hand on the handle, hiding half his body behind the door. His voice stuttered slightly. “What is it?”

The bodyguards showed their identification and stated their purpose: Duan Huaijing was needed in Xie Yun’s presence to recount the events of that night.

Duan’s palms sweated. He let out a slow, muffled “Oh,” and shuffled along behind them.

The entire way, he replayed the details of that day. He usually had a poor memory for events from a few days ago, but that night was etched into his mind like a movie, ready for a high-definition replay at any moment.

He knew Xie Yun wasn’t just questioning him; he would definitely pull the CCTV footage. As long as he told a “pruned” version of the truth one that matched what others saw, he could blend into the crowd and remain safe.

He had a beautiful plan, but when he arrived, he realized he had been too naive.

Xie Yun’s study was decorated in cold tones. Despite being filled with objects, it felt vast and empty. To put it kindly, everything was organized with precision; to put it bluntly, it was devoid of human warmth, with sharp angles and edges that felt aggressive.

There were only three people in the room: Xie Yun, a man operating a computer, and Duan himself.

Duan looked between them. For a moment, no one spoke. Guilt gnawed at him; he didn’t know the situation and felt awkward whether standing or sitting.

The man at the computer took a moment to look at him. He had intended to see who had entered, but his gaze froze the moment he saw Duan, a flash of genuine amazement crossing his eyes.

Duan looked back at him, his expression one of confusion.

The technician’s eyes flickered, and he casually rubbed his neck before returning to his work.

“Sit,” Xie Yun said from the head of the room, his gaze coolly lifting.

Only then did Duan Huaijing dare to look at him.

Xie Yun was in a wheelchair, his legs covered by a thin blanket. Duan couldn’t see the state of the legs beneath it. He was curious, but he knew the less he was involved in this, the better.

He lowered his head and walked submissively to the seat on Xie Yun’s other side, resting his hands on the edge of the desk.

Even though Xie Yun was in a wheelchair and his expression was unreadable, the invisible pressure he radiated had only intensified.

Duan Huaijing felt his pulse quickening.

“On the day of my accident, what did you see?” Xie Yun broke the silence, sliding a photograph he had been examining across the desk toward Duan.

Duan’s body gave an involuntary shiver. He looked mechanically at the photo.

Xie Yun noticed his distress and, perhaps thinking his tone had been too harsh, paused and said, “There’s no need to be nervous.”

Duan nodded stiffly. He stole a glance at the photo, and suddenly, his eyes were glued to it.

The photo was incredibly clear. Xie Yun lay on the ground, a river of blood winding around his legs. The fine rain fell indiscriminately on the crowd, creating a moment of dead silence and varied expressions.

Standing apart from the scene was Duan Huaijing. He was facing away from the crowd, looking toward a dark corner. His expression, caught in a flash of lightning, was a complex mess of disbelief and a visceral, wide-eyed hatred.

That lightning bolt had illuminated a small area, shattering the peace of the moment and revealing a hidden corner of the truth.

“You saw something else then,” Xie Yun said, not missing a single flicker of expression on Duan’s face. He asked softly, “Didn’t you?”

It was a question, but it sounded more like a prompt for the words Duan was expected to say.

Duan’s fingertips curled. He nodded. “Mhm.”

His brain was working at high speed now, juggling three things at once.

He had to figure out what Xie Yun knew. He had to figure out how to break the stalemate. And he had to maintain his usual timid, unremarkable persona.

Duan made a quick decision. Could “The Eyes” really be more powerful than Xie Yun? If the latter wanted to find something, mountains of information would be placed before him. The fact that he was sitting here asking meant he wasn’t entirely sure or he wanted to see which side Duan was on.

Duan would give him that answer.

When he looked up again, his body swayed as if he were about to collapse. His eyes held a fragile, resilient brokenness that invited pity. “I saw a man in the car.”

This piqued the technician’s curiosity. He paused his work and joined in. “What… did he look like?”

Duan Huaijing frowned, thinking hard. “He was sitting. If he stood up, based on the proportions, he’d be about 1.9 meters tall. I didn’t see his face clearly, but. he had a scar on his wrist!”

As he spoke, Duan’s eyes brightened as he recalled a vital detail.

The technician rubbed his chin, seemingly in thought. “A scar?”

Xie Yun said nothing, his gaze fixed on the blanket over his lap. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Duan Huaijing thought he had provided a very useful piece of information, but Xie Yun’s expression showed no surprise, as if he already knew everything.

A wild thought flashed through Duan’s mind: Does Xie Yun know that person?

He dismissed it the next second. Was Xie Yun crazy? Why would he hire someone to hit himself?

The technician typed away at his keyboard, presumably recording the statement. “Anything else?”

Anything else. there was, but Duan wasn’t sure if Xie Yun would actually protect him. He wasn’t ready to reveal his full hand. He couldn’t entrust his entire life to someone based on a vague, ambiguous act of kindness.

His upbringing had made him sensitive and suspicious; he didn’t believe anyone would be good to him without a motive. He was likely just useful for the time being.

In the two seconds of silence, Xie Yun spoke up to interrupt. “Thank you for the information. It’s very important. You’ve had a long few days; go and get some rest.”

Duan Huaijing had been waiting for those words. He let out a massive sigh of relief and stood up, the chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound.

As he pushed the door open and stepped out, he suddenly saw someone standing against the wall. He froze.

The Xie family really was inescapable. One inside, one outside both like harbingers of doom.

Duan gave a frantic nod and tried to skirt along the wall like a startled fawn.

“Duan Huaijing.” Xie Ming ground out the name, his voice thick with suppressed rage.

Duan stiffened and slowly turned around.

Xie Ming looked at the closed door, then at Duan, his eyes burning with fury. “You managed to latch onto my Big Brother this quickly?”

Duan Huaijing:

You cheat so much that you think everyone else is a ghost too?

Duan was a master at keeping his “honest man” persona from crumbling, but internally he rolled his eyes and was already imagining blowing up the toilet in Xie Ming’s bedroom.

Xie Ming let out a cold snort, scanning him from head to toe. “Don’t even think about it. My brother has had someone in his heart for years. A piece of trash like you isn’t even qualified.”

Inside the room, the technician peeked out from behind his monitor to steal a look at Xie Yun’s expression.

Xie Yun closed his book with a loud snap, his eyes unreadable as he stared at the closed door.

The technician immediately ducked his head back, not daring to look further.

“Xie Ming has been too idle lately,” Xie Yun said flatly.

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