The Husband From the Original Pairing is Now Divorced - Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Hoarse – “Why Must It Be Me?”

“Teacher Sheng, you don’t look well. If you don’t want to open the door, shall I go and make him leave?”

Zhou Zifei gently rested his hand on Sheng Jia’s shoulder, helping him sit down on the living room sofa. He turned to head toward the entryway immediately, but Sheng Jia caught him by the wrist.

“No need. I’ll go.”

Sheng Jia seemed to have regained his senses. He looked up, staring directly into Zhou Zifei’s eyes, and firmly rejected the suggestion. His face was as pale as paper, yet his expression was hauntingly calm.

Zhou Zifei’s brow furrowed. He knew Sheng Qianlong hadn’t come empty-handed; how could he let Sheng Jia take such a risk?

But before he could argue further, Sheng Jia rushed toward the door with a speed that left Zhou Zifei no time to react. Zhou Zifei’s fingertips only brushed against the fabric of Sheng Jia’s clothes.

“You…”

Sheng Jia looked at the disheveled man before him, but as he opened his mouth to question him, his voice caught.

Sheng Qianlong’s eyes were a muddy yellow, filled with the madness of a man driven to a dead end. He walked into the apartment in silence, forcing Sheng Jia to back away step by step—because Sheng Jia had seen what was in his hand.

It was a gleaming kitchen knife.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Sheng Jia was suddenly pulled back by a massive force. Zhou Zifei’s broad back now stood like a shield in front of him. Sheng Jia couldn’t see Zhou Zifei’s face, but from the icy tone of his voice, he could tell that Zhou Zifei was on the verge of explosive rage.

Why is he so angry?

It wasn’t the time to ponder such a thing, yet that question briefly took hold in Sheng Jia’s chaotic mind.

“Jiajia, save your dad! I’m really out of options this time. I owe too much. If I don’t pay it back, I’m going to prison!”

“That man… he said he’d arrange for people in jail to ‘teach me a lesson.’ I… I can’t take that. I don’t want to go in. I’ll die!”

Sheng Qianlong’s voice was panicked, but the irony was that the hand holding the knife didn’t tremble in the slightest.

Amidst the confrontation, the three of them moved toward the balcony.

“How much do you owe?” Zhou Zifei asked.

He refused to let Sheng Jia show his face; being taller, he kept Sheng Jia completely shielded behind him.

“Can… can you help me pay it? You can, right? It’s not much, really! Just two million. It’s a small amount, truly!”

Sheng Jia couldn’t help but shout, “No one is going to pay for you! Just go to prison. Stay there for the rest of your life—it’s best if you never come out!”

“Shut the hell up! You ungrateful brat! What use was there in having you? I should have beaten you to death. It’s all your fault!”

“You’re not even as good as a daughter. At least a daughter could be sold for a good price. You, a man—”

Sheng Qianlong’s roar cut off. The tall, red-haired man before him wore an expression so terrifying that it felt as if Sheng Qianlong’s throat had been seized, rendering him unable to make a sound.

A rush of blood surged to Sheng Jia’s head. Sheng Qianlong had actually thought about selling him? How? Were the videos and photos in his room not enough? What else did he want to sell?

He couldn’t stop his mind from drifting back to what Sheng Qianlong had done in that basement during his childhood.

“You’re using a knife to extort two million. If I give it to you, that’s blackmail and robbery. Do you realize your sentence will be even heavier?”

Zhou Zifei sensed the distress of the person behind him. He reached back and gripped Sheng Jia’s wrist, his warm, dry palm pressing against the racing pulse. His voice remained calm and detached as he negotiated with Sheng Qianlong.

He had originally intended to open the door himself and perhaps take a minor cut from the knife. Intentional injury plus extortion would have been enough to double Sheng Qianlong’s sentence. He hadn’t expected Sheng Jia to charge forward; in that moment, he had been both terrified and furious, fearing Sheng Jia would be stabbed.

“You… you won’t report me, right? Are you and my son together? If you help me, aren’t you just helping him?”

Seeing that Zhou Zifei was silent, Sheng Qianlong studied him closely. Realizing this man was nothing like that “pretty boy” Yu Xianghang, and assuming the man shared his own lack of interest in men, his eyes rolled as a sly, disgusting grin spread across his face.

“My son isn’t just pretty; he’s been obedient since he was a kid. You can sleep with him just like a girl, no problem!”

“Give me two million, and I’ll give him to you. I promise, once the money is paid, you can play with my son however you want. I won’t ever show up to bother you!”

His tone carried a sickening, suggestive familiarity, treating Sheng Jia entirely like a piece of merchandise for sale.

Sheng Jia went cold all over. All the anger, resentment, and loathing surged into his heart. His breath trembling, he looked around wildly until his eyes locked onto a flowerpot. He bent down to grab it, intending to smash it over the man’s head, but then—Crash!—the sound of shattering glass rang out.

“Argh!”

Sheng Qianlong let out a blood-curdling scream. His forehead throbbed with agony as blood began to drip down, blurring his vision.

“Close your mouth.”

Zhou Zifei’s voice was incredibly dark. Sheng Jia instinctively looked over.

Zhou Zifei’s hand was still raised in mid-air, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. Opposite him, Sheng Qianlong had collapsed to the floor. Blood gushed from his head, staining the white tiles crimson, next to the shards of a broken glass cup.

Blood meandered along the grout lines. The blow had been severe.

Sheng Jia felt a flash of satisfaction, but it was immediately replaced by a hatred so profound he wished the man would die right then and there.

He wrenched his hand away from Zhou Zifei’s grip and walked toward the man step by step, clutching the flowerpot. Bits of soil fell to the floor, and the petals of the Little Hibiscus swayed in the air.

“Teacher Sheng, don’t!”

Just as Sheng Jia was about to bring the pot down, Zhou Zifei caught his arm.

“Let go of me! I’m going to kill him! I want him dead!”

“No! Sheng Jia, calm down! The police will be here any second. You can’t lay another hand on him!”

“Why not? Why could you hit him but I can’t? Let go of me! Let go!”

Sheng Jia struggled violently, his eyes red as he glared at the now-unconscious Sheng Qianlong.

He hated him. He hated him so much.

Those years locked in the basement… the countless scars on his body…

Why couldn’t he be the one to end this person? Why stop him?

He wanted to smash, hack, and kill Sheng Qianlong. He hated him so much that even if the man died, he would want to tear the corpse apart over and over again.

Zhou Zifei knew Sheng Jia’s indignation; he knew all of his pain.

When Sheng Qianlong had blurted out, “You can sleep with him just like a girl,” he had caught a glimpse of the even darker, hidden trauma Sheng Jia had endured.

But he couldn’t let him do it. If Sheng Jia acted now, Sheng Qianlong truly might die, and Sheng Jia would be the one convicted.

Sheng Jia was a handful of the purest snow, a red plum blossom in the bitter cold. Zhou Zifei wanted Sheng Jia to live in this world forever clean; he wanted him to enjoy the rest of his life in happiness, not throw everything away for a man like Sheng Qianlong.

“Zhou Zifei, let go! Let go! I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!”

“You’re just like him! You’re with them! You’ll bully me too! You’re all the same!”

Locked in Zhou Zifei’s firm embrace, unable to move, Sheng Jia’s fury intensified.

His eyes were wide, his voice hoarse. Like a child losing control, he screamed hysterically, his face drenched in tears as his words spilled out uncontrollably:

“You lied to me! Even you are lying to me!”

“You just want to see me go crazy. You’re happy to see me in this mess, aren’t you? Why do you have to torture me like this? Is it wrong that I just want to live a good life? Why does everyone treat me this way!”

“I’m a human being too! I feel pain! I’ve tried so hard! I can forgive anything, I have nothing left… I just wanted one person to be sincere with me. Is even that not allowed?”

“Why? Why me? Why—”

“Tell me, why am I always the one being abandoned, the one being hurt!?”

Sheng Jia had completely lost his reason. He didn’t even know who he was directing these words toward. Was it Zhou Zifei? Sheng Qianlong? Yu Xianghang? Or fate itself?

He had been enduring from the very beginning. He had endured for too long.

When Lu He divorced Sheng Qianlong and prepared to leave, he wanted to say: “Mama, can you take me with you? I’m very good, I eat very little, I won’t cost you much money.”

When Sheng Qianlong molested and abused him, he wanted to say: “Papa, you said on my birthday you’d always protect me. I’m your son; please don’t hurt me.”

When Yu Xianghang cheated and ignored him countless times, he wanted to say: “Have you forgotten you once swore to love me forever? It’s only been six years; why has your heart changed?”

He had deceived himself, telling himself it was fine, that things would get better. He used pain to keep himself alert, to avoid sinking into negativity, to keep going.

But now, Sheng Jia couldn’t hold on anymore.

He truly wanted to ask everyone, to ask so-called destiny: Why did I have to go through all of this?

Why couldn’t there be one person who would stand by my side no matter what and tell me, “Don’t be afraid, I’m still here with you”?

…

“I just… my heart aches for you.”

A husky voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. Sheng Jia shuddered, his voice cutting off instantly.

He had a vague premonition that Zhou Zifei was about to touch upon things he didn’t dare to face.

Suddenly afraid, he instinctively wanted to cover his ears and run away. But Zhou Zifei was faster; he reached out and pulled the man back, and Sheng Jia fell unexpectedly into a solid embrace.

“Your tears, your grievances, your sadness… when I see them, it hurts me so, so much.”

“I just want you to be happy. I want you to be joyful. I don’t want you to live with a criminal record, and I certainly don’t want you to spend the rest of your life shrouded in the shadows they cast.”

Zhou Zifei continued, holding Sheng Jia tightly, giving him no chance to escape.

He held him with immense strength. His broad chest was pressed against Sheng Jia’s trembling back without a gap. Sheng Jia’s waist was constricted, his thin upper body squeezed until his shoulders hunched up.

“What…”

Sheng Jia froze in the warm embrace, tears flowing aimlessly as he asked in a trembling, bewildered tone.

And Zhou Zifei answered, each word striking like a thunderclap:

“I like you. From the day I met you, I have liked you. So, please don’t hate me, okay?”

“I just want to love you. I want to cherish you.”

Sheng Jia finally heard the answer he had been too afraid to listen to.

Below, sirens wailed. Someone shouted, “It’s this building! A man with a knife is trying to kill someone!” Sheng Qianlong also began to stir from his coma, moaning in pain.

Though the world around them was so noisy, in this moment, Sheng Jia could only hear the thunderous beating of a heart.

And then, with a great thud—

The crumbling wall in his heart collapsed completely.