Chapter 9

In my sight, Yan Chen was lying on his back, head slightly raised.

His eyes, dark as thick ink, were misted with moisture.

It felt as if one could fall right in.

I nodded, almost involuntarily.

“Want it.”

His voice was tinged with a lazy hoarseness.

“I’ll give it to you in a bit.”

Someone knocked at the door outside-it was Dr. Luo.

“Young Master-”

Yan Chen picked up an object at random and hurled it hard at the door.

“Get lost!”

Dr. Luo had come to administer a sedative.

Yan Chen had developed resistance to the medication, so the dosage kept increasing.

His arms were covered in bluish-purple bruises.

Recently, for Song Minxin, he had clashed with Mrs. Yan many times.

Every time he lost, lost control of his emotions, suppressed by the drugs.

No matter how fiercely the marionette fought back, his body was always tied to the strings.

Dr. Luo said, “I’ll come back later, Young Master Yan. If you still can’t control your emotions…”

He was outside the door.

His voice faltered, coming in fragments.

Yan Chen curled his lips, now completely calm, nothing like his earlier rage.

His words were low and languid.

“Give me your hand.”

I obediently handed it over.

He parted his lips and gently bit the soft flesh of my forearm.

The oral fixation came on strong and sudden.

His bites varied, now gentle, now firm.

In the pain, there was a subtle itch.

Unconsciously, I pressed harder with my other hand.

It made Yan Chen arch his waist and shudder.

A sound escaped his throat, a moan he could not suppress.

Desire thickened the air.

His lips pressed to the inside of my arm, his words muffled and heavy.

I couldn’t make out what he was murmuring.

“…Good… baby…”

My phone rang.

“Yan Chen, I need to go out for a bit. My friend’s here to see me.”

He lifted his damp lashes, eyes deep, swirling with unfathomable darkness.

“Friend?”

He let go of me, only loosely encircling me with his hand.

His fingertips stroked slowly and deliberately. “How come I didn’t know you had-”

I explained, “It’s a friend from my hometown. He got into a school in Beijing, wants to hang out.”

He didn’t like me anyway.

Might as well give him some peace.

He said nothing, just stared at me, his gaze shadowy and cold.

I leaned in and tried to coax him, “Yan Chen, do you not want me to go? I knew it…”

Before I could finish, he turned his face away and snorted coldly.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh.”

I turned and started to get off the bed.

He grabbed my ankle, dragging me back.

His low, magnetic voice wrapped itself around me like silk.

I followed his gaze.

“Xiao Hua, don’t forget whose dog you are.”

He shook his arm, showing off all the bruises.

“My hands are useless, I can’t move them. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even bother with you. But I’m not done yet, and you already want to run off to your little lover?”

I made a noise of assent.

Quietly helped him.

Time ticked by slowly.

I was getting tired, my face scrunched up as I asked, “How much longer?”

He rolled his Adam’s apple.

His words came out with twisted sarcasm.

“How would I know? If it doesn’t come out, what can I do? Maybe look for the problem in yourself-maybe you’re just not trying hard enough…”

But I saw he’d nearly torn the sheets to shreds.

It was summer, but the air conditioning was strong in the room.

Still, a fine sweat beaded on his forehead.

His lips were almost bleeding, stained with spots of red.

His face contorted with pain.

He probably wished I’d leave quickly-he definitely wasn’t holding back for my sake.

Was it possible… he had some hidden illness?

But I didn’t dare say it.