"Mmmmmm!"
Zixuan thrashed against the chair, struggling to escape—unaware that Haoran was watching him through the video call.
"Zixuan." The man called.
But no answer came as Zixuan kept on thrashing and kicking at the chair.
Worried that he might injure himself further, Haoran shouted, "Stop that!"
Hearing the familiar voice, Zixuan froze. "Haoran?" It came out as a whisper.
"Let me see his face," Haoran ordered. The man obliged, gesturing for the guard stationed at the door to remove the black bag covering Zixuan's face.
His vision had been blocked for days—only lifted briefly during feeding—so the sudden light stung his eyes. Zixuan blinked several times, trying to adapt to the unfamiliar sight.
A phone was brought closer to his face, and the first thing he saw was the man he hadn't seen in days. Haoran was right in front of him now, even if only through the screen.
"Zixuan," Haoran called again, lifting his hand to caress the phone as if he could touch him through it.
