Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"You... you!"

Lin Xingshu was about to speak when the man slowly closed in, his icy breath caressing Lin’s ear. A large, cold hand clasped his waist through his clothes, fingers tracing intimate circles on his side.

"Xing Shu, I missed you."

The man’s deep voice plunged Lin Xingshu into an icy dread, leaving him paralyzed.

"I saw how close you were with him."

Lin Xingshu immediately realized the man was referring to Xie Guan.

This creep... had been watching him even during his lunch break!

"What do you even want... ah!"

Lin Xingshu gasped, startled by the man's movements. Nearby passengers shot him curious glances, prompting Lin to lower his head, trying to shrink into himself.

The man adjusted his stance expressionlessly, his broad back shielding Lin Xingshu from view.

Now caging Lin against him, the man held onto the handrail with one hand while the other slipped beneath Lin's clothes, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of his waist in slow, possessive strokes.

Lin Xingshu’s breath came in short bursts. He wanted to struggle, but the man’s voice whispered in his ear again.

"Xing Shu, you wouldn't want people seeing what we’re doing, would you?"

His waist was his most sensitive spot, and the man refused to relent. Lin Xingshu weakly gripped the handrail, letting his head drop helplessly, forcing himself not to make another sound.

"Xing Shu, you're so adorable."

The man nuzzled closer, lips nearly touching Lin's ear. Lin clenched his teeth but dared not pull away, only tilting his head slightly to avoid further contact.

The closeness was suffocating. Through the glass reflection, Lin Xingshu clearly saw the man behind him—head bowed, brows furrowed, pale skin flushed with desire. The veins on the back of his hand, gripping the rail, stood out, taut with restraint. Yet the hand beneath his clothes remained cautious, lingering near his waist without venturing further.

"Ding dong—Next stop, XX Station. Passengers, please prepare to exit..."

The subway’s automated voice cut through, and the crowd surged forward once more.

Seizing the moment, Lin Xingshu twisted free and slipped into the throng, barely escaping the man’s grasp. The rush of escape was so intense his heart nearly leaped out of his throat. Glancing back, he locked eyes with the man across the sea of people.

The man stood motionless, his dark eyes fixed on Lin, overflowing with a sickening, obsessive hunger.

Gasping for air, Lin Xingshu didn’t hesitate. He pushed through the crowd and fled.

Though the weather had warmed, Lin felt a deep chill, leaving him trembling uncontrollably.

Three times now. Three times too many.

Who was this man? How was he mimicking other people? Makeup? Impossible—there wasn’t a trace of it on his face. Prosthetics? But there were no seams, no edges...

Even prosthetics would leave flaws, yet when Lin had been so close, only the unnatural stillness of his face gave him away. Nothing else betrayed his disguise.

He'd be back. Should he call the police? No... it was pointless. Even Xu Yuan’s case had led nowhere. This time would be no different.

What was he supposed to do...?

Lin Xingshu’s mind went blank. The stalker had him jumping at shadows—every passerby was scrutinized, every stranger a possible threat.

He practically ran home, not daring to linger outside. The moment he stepped inside, he locked the door and burrowed under the covers, barely breathing.

Finally safe in his own space, the coiled fear in his muscles unwound, and exhaustion overtook him. Unknowingly, he drifted into sleep.

But his rest was far from peaceful. Those bottomless black eyes pursued him even in sleep, filled with a smothering, obsessive need that pinned him in place, leaving him nowhere to hide.

"Knock knock—"

A sudden rapping at the door wrenched Lin from uneasy sleep. He gasped, soaked through with cold sweat, his face deathly pale.

"Knock knock knock—"

The sound came again. Dread crawled up his neck, his body trembling like a leaf. Grabbing his phone, he saw it was already 7 PM.

Who could it be at this hour...? That man?

"Hello? Anyone home? Delivery from XX Express!"

A young man’s voice, unfamiliar and impatient, called from outside. Lin Xingshu hesitated before cautiously edging out of bed on unsteady legs and creeping to the door. Squinting through the fisheye lens, he saw a deliveryman in a cap holding a small box.

Just a delivery guy.

"Anyone there? No one home?"

The man kept knocking. Lin recoiled, too afraid to open the door. He was wound too tight now—what if this courier was the man in disguise?

After several unanswered knocks, the courier huffed and dropped the package on the ground.

"Tch... Fine, I’ll leave it here. Got other deliveries to make..."

Muttering, he turned and left. Only when the elevator doors closed did Lin Xingshu dare to open his own door, yanking the package inside.

The box was small. Lin gave it a wary shake—something small shifted inside, like a small item.

He had ordered a few things online recently, but he wasn’t sure which one this was.

Squinting at the smudged label, he noticed the sender’s details had been deliberately smudged away.

Frowning, Lin Xingshu snatched up a box cutter and warily sliced through the tape.

"What is this...? Why so much bubble wrap...? This is—"

*Clatter.*

The cutter clattered to the floor as Lin Xingshu’s face drained of color.

Spilling from the box were dozens of photos—every single one of him. Grainy surveillance-style photos of him working at the office, walking home, chronicling his every move.

Dozens upon dozens.

His thoughts short-circuited. Only one twisted mind could've—

Him. Again.

He had been watching him all along. Hunting him. Documenting him like prey.

At this thought, Lin Xingshu felt a chill run down his spine, and the photos in his hand scattered to the ground, silently flipping over.

He looked down numbly and noticed that something seemed to be written on the reverse side of these photos.

In a daze, he picked up one of the photos, and when he saw the words, his eyes widened in disbelief.

On the back of those photos, the man's red ink scrawl was covered in "I love you's."

The handwriting was messy and clumsy, like that of a child, but the strokes were heavy, the pen nearly piercing through the photos, as if pouring all his emotions into those words.

In an instant, an icy terror washed over his entire body. His breathing grew rapid, and broken sobs slipped out. Staring at the photos, he could no longer control his emotions and began tearing them apart frantically.

Fear and unease seized his heart. He grabbed his head in panic, curling up into a miserable ball.

His nose burned, and tears welled uncontrollably in his eyes.

Why… why him? He'd done nothing wrong—why had he attracted such a pervert?

What should he do… This guy had infiltrated his life like a virus, and he'd been completely unaware of being stalked for so many days…

Who was it… Why was he being targeted like this…

Lin Xingshu wiped away his tears and pulled out his phone, desperate to confide in someone and seek comfort. But after scrolling through his contacts, he realized he had no one—only colleagues and work groups.

He thought of asking his parents for help but hesitated for a long time, unsure whether he should.

His parents had divorced years ago and had long since started new families. Their profile pictures now showed their new sons and daughters. But this was the first time he had faced something like this—he really needed someone to be there for him…

Hesitating, Lin Xingshu carefully opened the chat with his parents. The moment he sent a message, a bright red '!' appeared.

They had deleted him.

Seeing that red mark, Lin Xingshu could no longer hold back. He broke into loud, ugly crying, his cries echoing through the empty apartment.

He cried for a long time. When he finally stopped, he sniffled, his eyes red, and opened his contacts again, dialing his supervisor’s number.

"Sister Li, it’s Lin Xingshu. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but… I’m not feeling well and need to go to the hospital. Can I apply for annual leave?"

"Mm, okay… Thank you, Sister Li. I’ll submit the leave form when I get back."

Lin Xingshu put on a smile as he hung up. The moment the call ended, his smile vanished, his eyes hollow.

Shakily getting up, he ignored the mess on the floor and half-stumbled back to his bedroom, locking the door behind him before burying himself under the covers.

In this situation, staying indoors was the best choice. As long as he didn’t go out, he wouldn’t run into that guy…

Yes, he just needed to stay home…

*

That night,

A tall, broad-shouldered man sat before a dressing table, fixing his tie in the mirror.

The man in the reflection was unnaturally beautiful—his skin pale as jade, his nose high-bridged, his lips a deep red. A small mole beneath the corner of his lips added a hint of seductiveness to his already captivating face, especially his obsidian-black eyes.

His hulking frame was clad in a stiff blue shirt that clung to his muscular torso, the fabric pulling taut slightly over his chest. His sleeves were rolled up slightly, revealing veined hands as he adjusted his tie.

Such a beautiful face on such a body created a jarring mismatch.

"Perfect. Just like him."

Shi Zheng patted his shoulder approvingly. "I’ve taught you everything I know. From now on, you must never treat him the way you did before."

The man murmured in agreement, lowering his head guiltily.

"You went to see him again today, didn’t you?"

Shi Zheng called him out immediately, and the man grew even more nervous, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt like a child caught misbehaving.

"I’m sorry… I couldn't stand being apart. I saw him getting cozy with that guy, and I… I couldn’t control myself…"

"You don't understand how perfect he is. He smells so good, and his body is so soft. When I held him, I was afraid I'd break him if I squeezed too hard, but I couldn’t help wanting to hold him tighter… I even—I even—"

The man whispered feverishly, his long lashes perfectly veiling the hunger in his dark eyes. At the mention of his beloved, a dark flush crept across his pale cheeks, making him look like an infatuated schoolboy.

"I even wanted to kiss him…"

"Stop—"

Shi Zheng cut him off sharply. "This is the last time. Never again. We live in human society—acting like this will only get you labeled a freak."

"I understand… I won’t do it again."

Shi Zheng studied the man’s reflection, carefully tweaking the imperfections on his face.

"Your control over this face is still unstable. In a little while, you’ll be ready to take him. If you need my help then, just let me know."

"Okay."

The man gazed at his reflection, unable to resist touching his near-perfect face. A shadow of doubt passed through his eyes.

He ought to have been thrilled, but for some reason, he felt afraid.

He was just a pathetic creature, reduced to stealing another's face just to get close to the one he loved.

If one day, Lin Xingshu discovered the horror underneath this perfect disguise… would he still choose him?