Chapter 40: Marking

Chapter 40: Marking

Uncle Lin nearly swerved the car, breaking out in a cold sweat as he struggled to process the sudden information. After all, he had been in constant contact with Zhou Liao.

"What could possibly happen? A fever can't be that serious."

"President, Chen Xian means that Young Master Zhou didn’t take a leave of absence himself and hasn’t gone to Z City..."

Zhou Jianlin abruptly interrupted Uncle Lin: "So you're saying he's missing?"

Uncle Lin fell silent, knowing how absurd his words sounded. But after such a long time, no one had bothered to check where Zhou Liao was. It was normal for their family not to see each other for half a year. Now, when they needed him, they discovered he had vanished long ago.

"President, please don't worry. Chen Xian is just suspicious; it might not be true." Although Uncle Lin said this, his voice trembled, "He video chatted with Chen Xian a few days ago, saying Young Master Zhou was running a fever... It should be fine."

"What good does that do now that we can't reach him? Has anyone been home during this time?"

"No..."

"Not even in Z City?"

Uncle Lin paused for a moment: "Chen Xian said he couldn’t find him."

"What was his mother doing yesterday?" Zhou Jianlin’s chest heaved uncontrollably. After a while, he clenched his fists and looked out the window, "Call the police immediately. I only have one son. If anything happens to him, no one will get away unscathed."

Qin Zhan, dragging his exhausted body, returned to the warehouse. When he opened the door, Zhou Liao was kneeling by his bed, desperately clutching the blanket, his head buried inside, gasping for breath. His body trembled slightly.

Hearing the door open, he stiffly emerged from the blanket and turned to look at Qin Zhan.

Both of them had bloodshot eyes from a sleepless night. Neither spoke for a moment, until finally, Zhou Liao released his grip on the blanket.

"You’re back. How did it go?"

"Dead and burned. It’s over."

Qin Zhan’s face, pale and terrifying, was covered in cracks, as if it could shatter at any moment.

"... So, you won't be so tired anymore."

Zhou Liao tried to comfort Qin Zhan, but the words felt hollow. From the beginning, he knew about Qin Zhan’s family situation, his desperate circumstances, his overwhelming burden. Despite being poor and humble like an ant, Qin Zhan had carried both of them through life like an tireless camel.

Qin Zhan remained silent, and Zhou Liao sensed an unusual weariness in him today, despite no visible change in expression. Even though Qin Zhan had always worked tirelessly with little sleep, he had never seemed so utterly defeated.

His heart raced, feeling like it would leap out of his throat, as if something was about to happen.

"The year my mother left, I tried to kill myself by drinking pesticide," Qin Zhan suddenly began, "Because without her, life seemed nothing but torment. Why not just die?"

Zhou Liao was surprised by his sudden confession.

"But I was caught by the mentally ill person and failed. Then came what you saw." Qin Zhan laughed, but it was more of a chilling sound, his facial muscles straining unnaturally, making his expression eerie, "She watched every abuse from behind the door, never intervening because she was afraid of being hit too."

"Later, the mentally ill person died unexpectedly, and I lived with her."

"Medical bills were expensive, but I feared her death."

"I knew she suffered, but I enjoyed her pain, relishing the agony she endured after each treatment, just like she used to watch from behind the door."

Zhou Liao shivered, his throat tightening at Qin Zhan’s voice, which seemed to come from the depths of hell.

"But do you know what? I was more afraid of losing her completely."

"This is the second time she chose suicide, last night at 11:59."

Zhou Liao’s breath caught, unwilling to let another minute pass into the new year.

"But I’m still here." Zhou Liao trembled, reaching out to grab Qin Zhan’s arm, wanting to block out the words, fearing what lay ahead. He forced a smile, "Didn’t we say forever? I’m still here..."

Zhou Liao leaned forward, gently kissing Qin Zhan’s face and lips, feather-light touches. The other man neither responded nor resisted. Gathering courage, Zhou Liao finally pressed his lips against Qin Zhan’s.

In the next instant, his head was suddenly pulled back, and their lips locked in a fierce kiss, as if trying to devour each other whole.

They were like thirsty travelers in a desert, desperately seeking each other’s breath.

Qin Zhan’s every side—calm, silent, ragged, violent—he had seen, but never this madness, as if the world were ending and they were indulging in their final moments.

Despite the cold room, Zhou Liao felt drenched in sweat. They grappled each other, pulling hair and clothes, rolling on the ground, trying to tear each other apart. Their lips and teeth tasted of metallic blood, neither knowing who bit whom first, the bitter taste lingering as they savored it.

Like relentless beasts, they sought to conquer each other.

After an unknown amount of time, Qin Zhan, his eyes bloodshot, removed his shirt, revealing his still muscular body. The cold air made Zhou Liao’s skin prickle, momentarily clearing his mind.

Suddenly, he noticed a needle-like object in Qin Zhan’s hand. Qin Zhan’s lips soon pressed against his waist, causing Zhou Liao to tense up instantly.

"Last time, I said I wanted to mark you too, so even if I die, you’ll carry my mark, just like I carry yours."

Zhou Liao felt entranced, looking into Qin Zhan’s eyes, which seemed bottomless pools of darkness, hiding everything yet drawing him in.

"Do you want it now?" Qin Zhan asked, his fingers brushing Zhou Liao’s nape.

A tingling sensation rose in his neck. Zhou Liao looked at the new flesh growing on Qin Zhan’s throat, surrounded by permanent scar marks, the sound of a cigarette burning into the skin echoing in his memory, igniting a burning inferno, consuming his reason, leaving only guilt and remorse.

"Yes."

As soon as he spoke, a sharp pain pierced his chest, and Zhou Liao cried out in agony, blood spurting out, some splattering on Qin Zhan’s face. Qin Zhan licked his lips, looming in the shadows like a vampire craving human blood.

The initial sharp pain was followed by waves of almost paralyzing throbbing. Zhou Liao gasped, his chest heaving, struggling to breathe, but soon warm tongue touched the blood on his chest, cleaning it away.

Qin Zhan’s hands continuously soothed his back, but his eyes remained fixed on the mark, as if admiring his most satisfying masterpiece.

He kissed the small diamond embedded in the needle over and over again, thinking of those painful pasts buried in darkness, violence, and abandonment, almost obsessively repeating to himself:

From today onward, you are completely free.

Zhou Liao is different from him; he will never understand that they are not the same.

He had nothing to begin with and could not hold onto what was never his. Life to him was merely an accidental creation of inferior genes meeting.

The outcome of walking through that door was written from the day they met at the stairwell corner.

In the freezing outskirts, it was as if seeds of an apocalyptic fire were sown into the earth, burning this small warehouse to ashes.

Selfishness, indulgence, possession.

They had once laid bare their most direct and vile pasts to each other, and now they were trying to mend and make amends, albeit feebly.

In this extreme ecstasy of pain, heaven and hell intertwined indistinguishably.

Birth and death, death and birth.

-

"We have traced Young Master Zhou's phone location," said the person in front, flipping through printed documents. "His ID was indeed registered at a guesthouse in Z City, and there are also records of a flight purchase, matching the time you provided."

"And then? Where is he?" the person beside him asked anxiously, while the elegantly made-up woman sitting nearby looked thoroughly impatient.

The person in uniform looked up again: "That's the issue. He is in his own home."