Qian LiAi stormed out of the inn, his mind set on finding ChengYi. He scanned the streets, his sharp gaze finally catching sight of him by the riverbank. ChengYi stood still, his expression distant, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

  A mischievous grin spread across Qian LiAi’s lips as he silently approached, light on his feet. With a sudden move, he lunged, wrapping his arms around ChengYi’s neck in a playful hold.

  Startled, ChengYi tensed, nearly losing his balance. Qian LiAi’s laughter rang out, clear and bright, cutting through the evening air.

  "Yo! ChengYi, why so lost in thought?" Qian LiAi teased, a wide grin pulling at his lips.

  ChengYi forced a small, awkward smile before turning his gaze back to the river, his voice quiet. "I… I have a lot on my mind."

  Qian LiAi’s playful grin faltered. He loosened his grip around ChengYi’s neck and, eyes narrowing slightly, asked, "Are you alright? My meimei mentioned some trouble at home... I wanted to check in."

  ChengYi looked at him, silent for a moment. His mind whirled, but the mention of Yun Yuhua made his chest tighten with a strange mix of gratitude and unease.

  "Yun Yuhua?" ChengYi finally spoke.

  "Yes," Qian LiAi replied with a teasing grin, "She’s sharp, isn’t she? Noticed how lonely you seemed. A bit timid, too."

  ChengYi blushed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "She’s very kind."

  Qian LiAi raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "So, you like her, don’t you?"

  ChengYi’s face flushed crimson, and he quickly avoided Qian LiAi’s teasing gaze. "I— I just said she’s kind..."

  "Of course, she is," Qian LiAi interrupted, his tone turning softer. "Our Baba made sure we treated her like a princess. Taught her kindness. She got that from our late mother. She was such a gentle soul."

  ChengYi smiled warmly, but there was a trace of unease. "What happened to your mother?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

  Qian LiAi’s expression faltered, a shadow passing over his features. He hesitated before speaking, his voice quiet.

  "Our mother..." Qian LiAi’s words trailed off as painful memories resurfaced. He remembered the day XianLian had tried to protect him, her frail body standing against a cruel force. The image of her sacrifice, her last breath slipping away as she whispered her love, haunted him.

  Tears welled in his eyes as he remembered her bloodied smile, the words of love and reassurance slipping from her lips as she faded. The guilt, sharp and unyielding, twisted inside him.

  "Qian LiAi?" ChengYi’s voice cut through his thoughts, gentle but firm.

  Qian LiAi blinked, returning to the present, his face twisting into an awkward chuckle. He sighed deeply, the weight of the past still clinging to him.

  "She… Some man appeared out of nowhere, and when he saw me, he just... snapped. He was like a monster—his eyes empty, nothing human about him. His movements were erratic, like he wasn’t in control. He terrified me. His face... it was twisted, contorted with rage, like a creature from a nightmare. I’ll never forget it. Honestly, you almost resemble him… but you’re nothing like him. You’re kind, gentle. Not a trace of that darkness in you," Qian LiAi said, his voice trembling as he recalled the horrors.

  ChengYi smiled, oblivious to the dark connection between him and the man who had tormented Qian LiAi’s family. "I’m glad I’m not like that evil man," he said with a chuckle.

  Qian LiAi couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. They stayed there for a while, talking, until the sky turned dark and the night began to settle in.

  Back at the inn, the warmth of TianKe’s presence greeted them. ChengYi’s gaze naturally drifted to the back of the inn, where Yun Yuhua was quietly assisting RuQi. Her graceful movements, her calm demeanor—until her eyes caught ChengYi’s. A small, welcoming smile graced her lips.

  ChengYi’s heart fluttered, and he couldn’t help but return her smile, his chest filled with warmth. It was a simple gesture, but it meant more than words could convey.

  As the evening stretched on, ChengYi felt at ease in their company. But as night fell and he left the inn to return home, an uneasy silence settled over him. He had hoped to keep his day’s events from his mother, but her sharp eyes and rising suspicion only made things worse.

  Meanwhile, HaoJian, lurking in the shadows, felt his twisted desires stir. That night, he returned to the inn, his presence seeping into the darkness like a predator waiting for its moment. The dim lantern light barely touched him, his figure seeming almost inhuman—his movements slow, deliberate, like a creature stalking its prey.

  Yun Yuhua felt it before she saw him. That cold, suffocating presence that crawled up her spine, making the air feel thick and poisoned. Her body tensed, her gaze drawn to the entrance. There he stood—his lips curling into something not quite a smile, his vacant eyes drinking her in like a hunter eyeing its prey.

  The night seemed to recoil from him, the silence pregnant with unease. Another night, another nightmare waiting just beyond the threshold.

  The air in ChengYi's home thickened with each passing day, stifling him beneath the weight of unspoken truths and unresolved tensions. HaoJian remained relentless, still plotting to bind him to Yun Yuhua, while his mother tightened her hold, unwilling to let him go. Their constant battle for control seeped into every moment, pressing down on him like an iron cage. The more they imposed their will on him, the more his sanity seemed to slip away. Each demand, every expectation, and every reminder of a past he couldn’t escape chipped away at his resolve.

  Meanwhile, HaoJian continued his nightly vigil by the market. He lingered in the shadows, a dark presence watching Yun Yuhua with unnerving stillness, his gaze crawling over her like a shadow with intent. A sickness clung to the air whenever she glimpsed him—something vile, something that twisted her stomach in warning.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The unease grew unbearable. She began pleading with her brothers to close the inn doors at night, hoping the darkness would swallow the figure that haunted her. But their answer sent a chill through her veins.

  "That man in the night... even if we close early, he’ll still be there. Only now, he won’t just be watching. He’ll be waiting—with a murderous stare."

  "Ma! You have to stop acting like this!" ChengYi snapped, his voice rising with a fury that finally broke his patience.

  His mother’s eyes darkened, her glare full of unyielding control. "You are to stay, no matter what!" she spat. "You’ll meet with other suitors. My cousin will be coming—"

  "Ma!" ChengYi cut her off, his frustration mounting. "I haven’t accomplished anything yet! I’m not ready for marriage!"

  The crack of her palm against his cheek echoed through the room. ChengYi barely flinched, the sting swallowed by his rising anger.

  "Don’t say such things!" she hissed. "That only means you intend to marry that girl! I will never allow her in this house—ever!"

  ChengYi’s hands clenched into fists, and he slammed one onto the table, the force rattling the room. His mother flinched.

  "I'm not bringing her here!" he roared. "You and Baba are losing your minds over this! She is just a friend!"

  But even as the words left his mouth, he knew they would fall on deaf ears. The madness in their household had already sunk too deep. His mother stared at him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and something else. For the first time, she noticed something different—he was fighting for his voice, for his right to make choices.

  ChengYi’s breath hitched as realization sank in—he had raised his voice at his own mother, the woman who had carried him, who had given him life. A crushing guilt surged through him, suffocating and relentless. The weight of it was too much to bear. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out, his heart pounding in his chest.

  The inn was the only place where peace remained—the only place the suffocating madness of his home could not reach. There, he found solace, even if only for a moment.

  Yun Yuhua spotted him sitting alone in the yard, lost in thought. His expression was distant, burdened with something unspoken. Concerned, she approached him and gently patted his shoulder.

  ChengYi flinched, startled, before turning to see her.

  "Yun Yuhua," he murmured, his voice weary.

  She smiled softly, taking a seat beside him. "Is everything okay? You look like you’re losing your sanity," she teased, her voice light.

  ChengYi gave a faint smile but sighed heavily. "I am losing my sanity… My parents have already lost theirs."

  Yun Yuhua blinked, taken aback by the weight of his words. She immediately lowered her head in apology.

  "I'm sorry… I didn’t mean to joke about it."

  A soft chuckle escaped him. "It’s okay… I come from that kind of family," he admitted, his tone tinged with resignation.

  Yun Yuhua’s heart ached at his words. Without hesitation, she reached for his hand, holding it gently as she gazed at him. ChengYi’s eyes widened at the unexpected warmth.

  "It’s okay," she said softly. "No one is perfect… so don’t be too hard on yourself."

  Something in her steady, understanding voice unraveled him. His eyes welled up, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to feel. A small, pained smile tugged at his lips.

  "Thanks…" he whispered, barely above a breath.

  Yun Yuhua gave him a reassuring pat on the back, a quiet comfort that words could never fully convey.

  Before the day ended, ChengYi returned home. His mother sat in her room, pinching the bridge of her nose, stress written in every furrow of her brow. He hesitated for a moment before knocking and then stepping inside.

  She looked up at him, her eyes filled with disbelief.

  "Ma, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you earlier… I’ve been losing my mind, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you," ChengYi said, his voice steady but filled with remorse. He knelt before her, his head lowered in apology.

  His mother’s breath hitched as she watched him. For the first time, she saw the weight he carried—not just as her son, but as someone struggling against forces beyond his control. Tears welled in her eyes, and she broke down, sobbing unrestrainedly.

  ChengYi’s vision blurred as he watched her cry. Without hesitation, he rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

  "I’m sorry… I-I didn’t mean to put so much pressure on you," she wept into his shoulder.

  ChengYi closed his eyes, a deep sense of relief washing over him. For the first time in a long while, he finally felt understood.

  From that moment on, ChengYi found some comfort at home with his mother, despite his father's continued madness. He spent less time at the inn, feeling a deep sense of responsibility to stay close to home and support his mother. His duties weighed heavily on him, and the last thing he wanted was to neglect her in her fragile state.

  However, HaoJian’s response grew darker with each passing day. His mind, already twisted and unstable, began to unravel further. He couldn’t understand why ChengYi hesitated, why he wasn’t claiming Yun Yuhua as his own. To HaoJian, this was not just a missed opportunity—it was a failure. His son’s indecision disgusted him.

  The more he watched ChengYi pull away, the more possessive and obsessed HaoJian became. His thoughts spiraled, fixating on Yun Yuhua. If ChengYi wouldn’t have her, then he would take her for himself. The idea of her being with someone else, of losing control over her, gnawed at him like a deep, insidious hunger.

  His obsession grew darker with each passing night, consumed by the belief that Yun Yuhua—like any other object—should be his to possess. If ChengYi couldn’t win her love, then HaoJian would take it from her by force. No one could have what he couldn’t control.

  HaoJian’s mind churned with violent thoughts, each one more twisted than the last. Every failed attempt to get near Yun Yuhua only fed the dark hunger gnawing at him. His obsession with her had turned into a festering wound.

  He had tried subtlety, but she resisted him at every turn. The realization gnawed at his insides—Yun Yuhua would never come to him willingly, not with ChengYi constantly by her side, offering her love and protection. ChengYi’s devotion to his mother had become a barrier, a constant obstacle that HaoJian couldn’t ignore.

  A grim thought settled in his mind. ChengYi, his own blood, was the problem. But his mind didn’t hesitate. The solution was simple. If ChengYi wouldn’t relinquish her, then ChengYi would need to be removed. No longer would he be a threat to HaoJian’s will.

  But there was another issue. His wife. Her loyalty had grown inconvenient, a reminder of his ties that kept him grounded—rooted in a life he no longer wanted. She was no longer of use to him. To her, he was a shadow of the man she had married, and she would never understand the force of his desires. She had to be dealt with, or her presence would continue to bind him.

  With cold precision, HaoJian set his plans into motion. His mind had no room for mercy. There would be no boundaries. His desires would not be denied. Every decision, every action from this point onward, would push him further toward the abyss.

  His eyes narrowed with determination as he began to scheme.