Chapter 21 What Are You Doing?

Chapter 21 What Are You Doing?

Zhou Liao clutched his throat, which still felt like it was about to retch, and upon hearing Qin Zhan's words, he lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot from the choking.

"….What do you mean?"

Qin Zhan did not respond; he merely put away the iron bowl and turned around. The person behind him suddenly lunged forward in a few steps and grabbed his trouser leg. Zhou Liao, ignoring the searing pain in his wrist, lay on the ground in an utterly humiliating position, his mind fixated on what Qin Zhan had just said.

"Qin Zhan, what did you mean by what you just said?"

"You'll find out eventually."

Qin Zhan did not turn his head, merely shifted his leg slightly, causing Zhou Liao to release his grip due to the unbearable pain.

"Qin Zhan! This is illegal!"

"What law?" Qin Zhan walked over to the kitchen and cooked a bowl of congee with the remaining vegetables, "Compared to you?"

Zhou Liao held his breath, kneeling on the ground, his fingers digging into his knees, almost piercing through the thin fabric of his pants.

"Then hit me back, I won't fight back." Zhou Liao was almost at his wit's end; he only wanted to leave, unable to think of anything else. He knew almost nothing about what kind of person Qin Zhan was, which was terrifying. He could not imagine how he would be treated in the future.

"I don't like torture."

After a while, Qin Zhan placed the bowl of vegetable congee in front of Zhou Liao.

Looking at the few pieces of vegetables floating in the white rice, Zhou Liao could not bring himself to eat it. He had never lived such a destitute life. In a fit of anger, he wanted to kick the bowl over, but remembering Qin Zhan's actions earlier, he restrained himself.

"I won't eat it." Zhou Liao endured his hunger, "Can you tell me what you're trying to do?"

"I don't know." Qin Zhan seemed indifferent to whether he ate or not, "Instinct tells me to do this."

"What kind of instinct?" Zhou Liao felt he was dealing with a madman. Beating him up in an alleyway would have been fine, but kidnapping him here without demanding money and providing food and water made no sense.

"Maybe I want a pet."

"What?"

"Nothing, there are too many thrown in the trash, I guess I want one of my own."

Qin Zhan spoke in riddles that Zhou Liao could not understand. He felt like talking to a wall. He could not comprehend the mindset of such a gloomy and reclusive person, but based on his experience growing up, those who were exceptionally smart yet on the fringes of society were often not normal.

"What are you saying?"

"Eat or not?" Qin Zhan ignored him and asked again.

Zhou Liao was almost too exhausted to be angry, his spirit on the brink of collapse. He took a deep breath and turned his head away, "I won't eat."

He expected Qin Zhan to force-feed him as before, but instead, Qin Zhan picked up the bowl, placed it on the table, and covered it with plastic wrap.

...

With no clocks in the house, he had no idea of the time. He could not see outside, and Qin Zhan did not respond, leaving him to rely solely on Qin Zhan's actions to gauge the passage of time. After a while, Qin Zhan sat down at the computer to continue writing the game code. Zhou Liao sat behind him, scanning his surroundings for any chance to escape.

Until Qin Zhan got up to wash up in the bathroom and then turned off the lights to sleep, Zhou Liao watched Qin Zhan lie down in the darkness, his eyes wide open in the cold and hunger.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Here."

"You want me to sleep on the floor?"

Qin Zhan seemed to lose patience, turning his back and not responding again.

The winter night was particularly cold, and without the warmth of home heating, Zhou Liao could bear it during the day, but now he shivered uncontrollably, exacerbated by his lack of food, making it impossible to maintain body heat. He felt he would either freeze or starve to death tonight.

But his pride prevented him from asking. He had said he wouldn't eat, and Qin Zhan had asked him again. Asking now would be humiliating.

In the darkness, he endured the passing of time, barely able to see anything except the outline of Qin Zhan's sleeping form.

After an unknown amount of time, Zhou Liao, hugging his frozen body, felt he was about to pass out, finally abandoning his dignity to whisper Qin Zhan's name for survival.

"Qin Zhan, are you asleep?"

"...Qin Zhan, I want to eat."

"I really feel like I'm going to die."

Zhou Liao had never felt so pitiful in his life. He repeated Qin Zhan's name over and over, unlike any attitude he had shown before. Seeing the unmoving figure on the bed, he lacked the strength to raise his voice, his stomach aching and spasming.

As consciousness began to fade, the physical pain made him delirious, and just before losing consciousness, he saw a white light, his mind blank.

"Dead?"

An extremely cold voice sounded in his ear. Before he could regain his senses, his head was suddenly pressed down, the pressure on his neck bringing him back to reality. It took a moment for his vision to clear, revealing a bowl of food in front of him.

He looked up, and under the white light, Qin Zhan sat in front of the bed, while he knelt at his feet.

"Eat or not?"

Zhou Liao dared not show any disdain, even though this was a meal he would never have touched before. Despite his hunger and loss of appetite, despite the cold congee possibly causing more pain, he knew he needed to survive.

He picked up the bowl, not even using a spoon, drinking the nearly spoiled congee like a dog.

However, soon after, his stomach reflexively vomited, and Qin Zhan looked at him with disgust, throwing a black plastic bag used for animal parts in front of Zhou Liao.

"Vomit here."

That night, Zhou Liao barely slept, vomiting all the congee Qin Zhan had given him. The burning spasms in his stomach caused him to lose consciousness near dawn. When he woke up the next day, Qin Zhan was already gone.

He didn't know the time outside. This room, sealed with iron plates, was dark all day and night, with only a small bedside lamp provided by Qin Zhan. There wasn't a single warm light in this house, and it lacked the layout of a typical home. The eerie white light made the cold room even more chilling and strange, illuminating only a corner by the wall.

Thanks to his love for sports and a decent constitution, Zhou Liao didn't fall ill after that night. Before leaving, Qin Zhan had cooked him a bowl of congee, which had now gone cold. Despite the nausea, Zhou Liao forced himself to drink it to survive.

Perhaps considering his personal situation, the rope had been lengthened, extending to the adjacent bathroom.

Finally, he could stand and walk instead of kneeling on the ground like a dog as he did yesterday.

However, the reach of the rope only extended to the bathroom door, allowing him just enough space to handle his personal needs with difficulty. Zhou Liao experienced for the first time what it felt like to be kidnapped, grateful that he hadn't been kidnapped for money when he was young.

After struggling to urinate, Zhou Liao lifted his head in despair, his wrists raw from the friction, almost bleeding. But when he looked up, he suddenly saw his face in a corner—a face different from his usual confident and flamboyant one, now filled with exhaustion and disarray.

But he didn't care about his appearance; the mere presence of a mirror brought him a momentary surge of joy.

Almost crazed, he tried to smash the mirror with his elbow, but Qin Zhan had clearly anticipated this. The length of the rope was too short for him to reach or touch the mirror with any part of his body. Zhou Liao broke out in a cold sweat, unwilling to give up any chance of escape.

As he strained to pull himself toward the mirror, blood began to seep from his wrist along the rope. Ignoring the pain, the hope of escape rang like a bell in his mind. On the verge of giving up, he suddenly remembered the metal bowl used for eating. Realizing its potential, he immediately staggered out to retrieve it.

He stared at the mirror, repeatedly throwing the plastic-coated metal bowl at it. When the bowl rolled away, he would squat down and hook it back with his foot. Thankfully, the mirror's quality was poor, and despite the excruciating pain in his wrist, he managed to shatter it after only four or five throws.

As the glass shards fell to the ground, Zhou Liao nearly collapsed in exhaustion. He didn't know the time, how long he had been unconscious, or when Qin Zhan would return, so every moment was precious.

The blood from his wrist continued to flow, and Zhou Liao picked up the shards to cut the rope.

However, the coarse rope used to tie livestock in rural areas was exceptionally strong. Even with the glass shards mixed with plastic, cutting through it took a long time. Zhou Liao broke out in a cold sweat, growing more determined with each passing second. His entire focus was on the crack the shards were making, barely noticing the blood dripping onto his pants and the floor.

Hope was drawing closer. Watching the rope halfway severed on one side, his pupils trembled with joy.

"Hey Young Master Zhou, why aren't you replying? Is my photo not good enough?"

The sweet voice came through the speaker. Qin Zhan glanced expressionlessly at the explicit photo in the chat interface. Besides Ling Yang, the women he met at the bar had been messaging Zhou Liao the most. Few of his family or friends had asked about him, except Chen Zhan, who inquired if he had really left.

Qin Zhan sent the previously edited flight ticket, and the other party didn't suspect anything, only responding with "What the hell, why did you go north?" Qin Zhan mimicked Zhou Liao's previous tone: "Do you think I'm joking?"

While working the night shift at the bar today, he deleted the footage from Zhou Liao's dashcam. Entering Zhou Liao's residential area was simple; he just claimed to be a designated driver parking the car. To prevent any sudden questions if someone returned, he explained to the building manager why Zhou Liao had left and why he was parking the car. The manager, accustomed to the identities of most residents, didn't doubt Qin Zhan's explanation.

In the silent night of the outskirts, Qin Zhan approached the door, having locked Zhou Liao's phone. He then unlocked the door with a key.

In the bathroom, Zhou Liao's one wrist was already free, and he knelt on the ground, focused on cutting the rope on the other wrist, oblivious to any sounds outside.

Just as he was about to break the last bit of the rope, the bathroom door suddenly opened. He froze, his entire body becoming rigid, turning his head slowly, second by second.

The man behind him was tall and imposing, casting a black shadow in the pitch-black space, resembling a demon from hell come to claim a life.

Qin Zhan lowered his gaze, looking at the shattered glass on the ground, the dried blood, and Zhou Liao's suspended hand ready to continue. He tilted his head.

"What are you doing?"