Ye Qingliu's hand remained steady in mid-air, without the slightest movement. He did not withdraw the spoon, nor did he force-feed the child.
"There's no point in running away." Ye Qingliu spoke, his voice not loud, but like an ice-cold scalpel, it precisely cut into the core of the dead silence.
"The collapse of the core of the rules stems from the violent conflict within existence itself. You attempted to suppress the part that belongs to 'Chao Youye', covering it with the cold shell of rules. The result is mutual destruction, and the core is on the verge of annihilation."
His words were brutally blunt, without a trace of euphemism. "Either completely embrace the rules, eradicate all 'abnormal' emotions, and become a pure Origin-0. Or..."
He paused, his gaze as sharp as a knife, as if piercing the deepest chaos in Chao Youye's soul. "Accept that 'pain' and 'tears' are part of your existence, and find a new balance. The third path leads to complete collapse and extinction."
“…” Chao Youye’s body tensed up imperceptibly for a moment, and then fell into deeper weakness.
He still tilted his head, eyes closed, his long eyelashes casting a heavy shadow under his eyes, like the wings of a dying butterfly. Ye Qingliu's words were like cold needles, piercing his confused consciousness.
Embrace the rules? Erase everything? He couldn't do it. The searing pain of that tear falling on Wutong Road, the soul-wrenching throbbing he felt when he saw Mu Xinrong...all told him he couldn't do it.
But to accept it? To accept the pain of this mortal body, to accept the destruction brought by this poison called "love"? How could one face the countless memories of killing Mu Xinrong, the blood-stained throne...?
The immense pain and confusion were like an icy quagmire, dragging him deeper into suffocation.
Ye Qingliu looked at Chao Youye's deathly silence and resistance, his eyes behind the lenses were calm, as if he was analyzing a set of stubborn abnormal data.
He did not try to feed her again, but put the spoon back into the lid of the thermos. Then, he reached out his hand very naturally and used his fingertips to very gently brush away a strand of black hair on Chao Youye's forehead that was wet with cold sweat and stuck to her skin.
"Mu Xinrong is outside." Ye Qingliu's voice returned to normal, as if he was stating an insignificant fact, but he dropped a bomb accurately.
"He's worried about you. Or rather, he's almost overwhelmed by his own guilt and panic."
Chao Youye's tightly closed eyelashes trembled suddenly! His body tensed up uncontrollably again! That name was like a red-hot iron, burning his soul to the point of shrinking! Guilt? Panic?
Mu Xinrong? What did he have to feel guilty about? The one who should feel guilty… the one who should be despised… was clearly me! The me who had raised the butcher knife countless times! The me who had cowardly compromised in front of my father, pushing him away in the most hurtful way!
Chaotic fragments of memory, like an uncontrolled torrent, once again violently assaulted his shaky walls of consciousness! This time, it was no longer the cold throne and endless slaughter, but... the scene was as clear as if it were replaying yesterday, carrying with it a cold, sickening malice that belonged to the real world.
In that huge, luxurious, and cold-as-a-tomb study, the heavy mahogany desk was like a silent hill. My father sat in the large, high-backed leather chair behind the desk, facing south.
He was dressed in a perfectly tailored dark grey suit, meticulously dressed. His face was expressionless, save for his worldly-wise eyes, sharp as scalpels, which coldly examined him—Chao Youye—through an invisible wall of ice.
The air was as thick as lead, oppressive and suffocating, and the scent of expensive cigars and leather furniture mixed into a suffocating atmosphere of power.
Then, the southbound hand moved.
The bony hand wearing a low-key and expensive watch gently but with great force pushed a photo onto the mirror-smooth table.
photo!
It was the photo Wu Zeyu had secretly taken of him and Mu Xinrong kissing under a streetlight! The clarity was so high that even the tiny hairs on Mu Xinrong's face, reflected in the streetlight, were clearly visible!
The young boys' innocent and passionate kiss seemed so abrupt, so glaring, and so...unbearable in the cold and empty study, under the cold gaze of their father.
"Explain?" My father's voice was low and steady, with no emotion in it. But it was like an undercurrent beneath the ice, containing enough pressure to crush a person.
Chao Youye felt his blood freeze at that moment. He could even "see" his face turning pale instantly, and the forced, shaky calm he maintained.
He was instantly overwhelmed by immense shame, anger, and the chilling chill of having his privacy completely exposed in the most degrading way. His heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, the pain so severe that he could hardly breathe.
He couldn't imagine what would happen if Mu Xinrong knew...
"His name is Mu Xinrong?" Father's voice sounded again, not a question, but a confirmation.
He even found out his name! A cold fear, like a venomous snake, instantly wrapped around Chao Youye's heart! Wu Zeyu's venomous eyes must have been flashing a cold light in the dark! What would his father do to him?!
"Name your price." Chao Nanxing's voice was flat, as if he were handling a standard business merger. "Have him leave you. Or, I'll make him disappear from this city completely."
His tone was as calm as if he was talking about the weather, but every word he said was filled with deadly ice.
He stared at his father's cold face, his nails digging into his palms, leaving deep crescent-shaped marks. He almost screamed: "You dare to touch him!"
However, all the anger and resistance were instantly frozen and shattered when they met his father's eyes, which were calm and as deep as the abyss.
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