The sinking feeling of the descending elevator tightened Lu Chenzhou's stomach. He leaned against the cold wall of the cabin, his fingers unconsciously worrying the rough cloth doll in his pocket. The poorly sewn stitches pressed into his palm, a small, grounding pain.
Fu Jingshen stood opposite him, his gaze heavy upon him, as if examining a recovered treasure, or guarding against something that might slip away at any moment.
*Ding.*
The elevator doors opened. Fu Jingshen stepped out first, his pace still measured, but he didn't wait as he usually did. Lu Chenzhou paused for two seconds before slowly following, maintaining a half-step distance.
The parking garage air was cool, carrying the scent of exhaust. When Fu Jingshen opened the car door, Lu Chenzhou didn't get in immediately. He stood by the car, looking at the distant windows of the hospital building—where Yao Yao's room was, his only anchor now.
"Get in." Fu Jingshen's voice came from inside the car, carrying a trace of impatience.
Lu Chenzhou pulled the door open and slid into the passenger seat, but didn't buckle his seatbelt. He stared out the window, his fingers picking at a groove on the door panel until the tips were red and raw.
Fu Jingshen started the car. He didn't urge him to fasten the seatbelt, but drove slower than usual.
Silence filled the journey.
Back at the villa, Aunt Liu came forward to take Fu Jingshen's coat. Sensing the tense atmosphere between them, she wisely asked no questions, only mentioning that dinner was ready.
"Not hungry." Lu Chenzhou walked straight towards the bedroom, his voice raspy as if coated in sandpaper.
Fu Jingshen stopped in the center of the living room, watching his retreating back, his brow furrowed. "Lu Chenzhou."
Lu Chenzhou didn't stop, as if he hadn't heard.
"I said stop." Fu Jingshen's voice dropped, layered with its usual authority.
Lu Chenzhou finally halted, but didn't turn around. His back was ramrod straight, like a tightly drawn bowstring. "Did you need something else, *Mr. Fu*?"
The term "Mr. Fu" was distant, deliberately creating space. Fu Jingshen's anger flared instantly. He strode over, grabbing Lu Chenzhou's wrist and forcing him to turn around.
"What is your problem now?" His grip was bruising, almost crushing the bones. "Is this because I told you not to touch things in the study?"
Lu Chenzhou lifted his head. His eyes held no anger, only a deathly stillness. This calm was more alarming to Fu Jingshen than any fierce resistance. "I don't have a problem."
He looked directly into Fu Jingshen's eyes, enunciating each word clearly. "Fu Jingshen, tell me. Were you good to me… because I look like him?"
The word "him" was uttered softly, yet it landed between them like a heavy stone.
Fu Jingshen's pupils constricted violently, his face darkening immediately. The question he least wanted to hear had finally been asked.
"I asked you if it's true!" Lu Chenzhou's voice rose sharply, the emotions bottled up for two days finally breaking free. "You locked me up here, did those things to me, even treated Yao Yao well… was it all because I look like him?!"
His eyes reddened, the stillness replaced by overwhelming pain. "If I looked nothing like him, would you have even glanced my way? Would you have cared about my sister's illness at all?!"
The words were like knives, wounding Fu Jingshen and carving out his own heart. He was terrified of an affirmative answer, but Fu Jingshen's silence was more damaging than any answer could be.
Fu Jingshen gripped his wrist tightly, his knuckles white, his breathing ragged. He wanted to deny it, to tell Lu Chenzhou it wasn't like that, to pull him into his arms and explain that people change, feelings shift.
But the words caught in his throat, blocked by foolish pride and fear. He was afraid he couldn't explain it clearly, afraid Lu Chenzhou would ask more about "him," afraid those buried memories would scare this person away.
"What if it is?" Fu Jingshen finally uttered the words against his true feelings, his voice cold as ice. "Lu Chenzhou, don't forget your place. You owe me. How you repay it is irrelevant. Don't delude yourself."
The sentence was a poisoned blade, piercing cleanly through Lu Chenzhou's final defenses.
He looked at Fu Jingshen's cold face and suddenly laughed, a dry, hollow, broken sound, full of self-mockery. "I knew it… I knew it was like this."
He wrenched his hand free with such force that Fu Jingshen stumbled back. "Fu Jingshen, you make me sick."
With that, he turned and ran, bursting into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. The sound of the lock turning was jarringly loud in the quiet villa.
Fu Jingshen stood frozen, staring at the closed door, his heart gripped by an invisible fist, the pain stealing his breath.
What… had he just said?
How could he have said that?
He wanted to explain, to knock, to tell Lu Chenzhou he didn't mean it. But his feet felt leaden, utterly immobile.
The living room clock ticked loudly, each sound mocking his stupidity.
Inside the bedroom, Lu Chenzhou slid down against the door to the floor. He didn't cry. He just stared blankly at the opposite wall, his eyes terrifyingly empty.
So it was true.
All his struggles, his hesitations, his moments of weakness… it had all been a pathetic, one-sided joke.
Fu Jingshen's kindness was only because of a face that resembled another's. The care for Yao Yao was just a means to stabilize his "replacement."
He was a complete and utter fool.
Lu Chenzhou reached up and tore the sapphire pendant from his neck, hurling it to the ground. It hit the corner of the wall with a sharp crack, the small blue stone skittering away to some unseen corner.
He never wanted to see that thing again.
Just like he never wanted to see Fu Jingshen again.
But he couldn't leave.
Yao Yao was still waiting at the convalescent home. She still needed Fu Jingshen's money for her ongoing treatment.
Lu Chenzhou hugged his knees, burying his face in his arms. A coppery, bloody taste rose in his throat—a sob he had forcefully swallowed down.
What was he supposed to do?
Continue being this replacement? Endure Fu Jingshen's patronizing kindness? Watch him look *through* him, mourning another person?
Or…
He didn't dare think about what came after "or."
Footsteps sounded outside the door, stopping just beyond. Then came a soft knock. "Lu Chenzhou, open the door."
Lu Chenzhou didn't move, as if he hadn't heard.
"I know you're in there." Fu Jingshen's voice was lower now, carrying a hint of uncharacteristic compromise. "What I said earlier… it wasn't what I meant. Come out. Let's talk properly."
Talk about what?
Talk about how he saw him as another man's shadow?
Talk about how he used false tenderness to manipulate him?
Lu Chenzhou closed his eyes, blocking his ears, refusing to hear another word from Fu Jingshen.
The knocking outside stopped. Then came the sound of Fu Jingshen's heavy breathing, which lasted a long time before gradually fading away.
The villa fell into complete silence, broken only by Lu Chenzhou's suppressed breaths and the deepening fracture within his heart.
He knew that something had shattered the moment Fu Jingshen had uttered those words.