The sharp click of the locked door was like a taut string, instantly snapped by a brutal force from the other side. Before Lu Chenzhou could even steady himself from sliding to the floor, the door shuddered under a powerful impact, followed by the piercingly loud beep of a master key card overriding the lock in the silent bedroom.
The door was flung open, the gust of wind ruffling Lu Chenzhou's hair. Fu Jingshen stood in the doorway, his suit jacket still on but his collar loosened, his eyes churning with a fury that wasn't purely anger, but more like a forceful counterattack after his control had been challenged. He stared at the figure curled on the floor, then stepped inside, his footsteps measured, each one landing squarely on Lu Chenzhou's frayed nerves.
"Hiding?" Fu Jingshen stopped before him, looking down from his height, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Lu Chenzhou, did you think this door could keep me out?"
Lu Chenzhou clutched the handmade doll tighter, the rough stitches digging into his palm, but he didn't look up. He knew Fu Jingshen's temper. This man never left room for refusal. But right now, all he wanted was to escape—to escape the suffocating weight of that admission, to escape the reality of being a replacement.
"Talk." Fu Jingshen's voice dropped, a command brooking no argument. When Lu Chenzhou remained silent, he bent down, his hand snapping out to seize Lu Chenzhou's wrist with a bone-crushing grip, yanking him up from the floor with brutal force.
Lu Chenzhou stumbled, crashing into his chest, and immediately tried to push away. But Fu Jingshen's other arm locked around his waist, holding him firmly in place. The distance between them was unbearably close. The scent of cedarwood and tobacco that clung to Fu Jingshen, once familiar, now felt like a cage, stealing his breath.
"Let me go!" Lu Chenzhou struggled, his fingers pressing against Fu Jingshen's solid chest, unable to budge the immovable barrier. "Fu Jingshen, if you admit I'm just a substitute, why won't you let me go?"
"A substitute?" Fu Jingshen let out a low, mirthless laugh. His thumb ground into the skin of Lu Chenzhou's wrist, a possessive, painful gesture. "So what if you are? Do you think you have the right to choose?"
He leaned in, his lips almost brushing Lu Chenzhou's ear, his tone blatantly coercive. "Your sister is still waiting for money for her treatment. Your debts aren't cleared. Right now, you don't even have the right to say 'no'."
The words were a blunt knife, plunging deep into Lu Chenzhou's heart. He froze instantly, the fight draining out of him, though his eyes burned uncontrollably. Right. How could he have forgotten? He never had a choice. From the moment Fu Jingshen paid for Yao Yao's surgery, he had been bound to this man.
"I'm not asking to choose," Lu Chenzhou's voice was scraped raw, thick with suppressed hurt. "But you can't treat me like a fool! Using kindness to deceive me while looking at someone else through me!"
"Deceive you?" Fu Jingshen's fingers tightened, pulling him even closer. "What have I given you that isn't real? Yao Yao's hospital room, the best doctors, the clothes on your back, the things you use—which of them is false?" His gaze swept over the doll clutched in Lu Chenzhou's arms, his brow furrowing, his tone growing darker. "Don't throw a tantrum with me, Lu Chenzhou. Behave, and you can have whatever you want. If you don't—"
He didn't finish, but the unspoken threat sent a chill through Lu Chenzhou's entire body. Fu Jingshen was never one to yield. His kindness always came with conditions, his concern always wrapped in control. Now that the gentle shell was cracked, what remained was an unyielding, dominant force.
"I understand." Lu Chenzhou closed his eyes, his voice a faint sigh of defeated exhaustion. "I won't make trouble. Just let me go first."
Fu Jingshen's grip loosened slightly, but he didn't fully release him. He kept his arm around Lu Chenzhou's waist, his dark eyes fixed on the reddened corners of his eyes, as if verifying his surrender. After a few seconds, he slowly let go, but as Lu Chenzhou moved to step back, his hand shot out again to straighten the crumpled collar of his shirt, the gesture dripping with unyielding possessiveness.
"Tomorrow morning at nine, the driver will take you to the convalescent home to see Yao Yao." Fu Jingshen's tone had returned to its usual cold hardness, though the anger had receded somewhat. "Don't be late. And don't try any tricks."
Lu Chenzhou didn't speak, just nodded. He turned and walked to the bed, sitting down with his back to Fu Jingshen, utterly still.
Fu Jingshen remained standing, watching his retreating back. The anger in his eyes faded, replaced by a more complex emotion. Part of him wanted to say that his earlier words weren't the whole truth, that his regard for Lu Chenzhou had long since transcended the category of substitute. But the words that reached his lips were icy commands. He was accustomed to armoring himself with dominance, to using control to confirm the other's presence. He didn't know that this method only pushed Lu Chenzhou further away.
The living room clock ticked loudly. Fu Jingshen said nothing more. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
The moment the door shut, Lu Chenzhou slowly lifted his head. Staring out at the pitch-black night sky, the tears he'd been holding back finally fell. He clenched the doll in his arms, his knuckles turning white, the fracture within his heart deepening yet again.