The cold door panel blocked the vision, but infinitely amplified the faint but regular "beep...beep..." sound, which clearly hit Mu Xinrong's earbone which was close to the ground.
Every sound was like a heart stone thrown into stagnant water, creating a faint ripple called "he is still alive".
He maintained that almost curled up posture, half of his cheek pressed against the cold floor, greedily absorbing this only comfort, as if this voice was the only umbilical cord connecting him to the broken world inside the door.
Time slowly flowed in the midst of desperate prayers. The sunlight outside the window gradually set in the west, casting long, cold shadows on the floor.
Until half of his body became numb and tingling from kneeling for so long, until dusk fell and the corridor was plunged into darkness, Mu Xinrong seemed to have lost all his strength. He stood up very slowly, trembling as if he was exhausted, holding on to the door frame.
He took one last deep look at the tightly closed door, his eyes sweeping across the plate of still-bright but untouched strawberry cake on the floor inside the door. A sharp sense of loss pierced his heart, but was immediately covered by a deeper worry - he just needed to rest.
He dragged his heavy feet back to the restaurant. In the restaurant, Hua Jinyue had fallen asleep curled up on the sofa without him knowing when, with traces of tears still on her little face.
Mu Xinrong had no appetite and sat down in the corner farthest from her. Physical fatigue overwhelmed him like a tide, but his consciousness was like being thrown into boiling oil, churning violently.
The sting of regret stabbed him repeatedly. He hated himself for being reborn with the resentment of his past life, hated himself for being like a blind man in this world line, using cold alienation and resistance.
How many new wounds had been added to Chao Youye's already broken heart? That collapse, his reckless approach, was undoubtedly adding insult to injury!
"Protect..." These two words burned into his soul like a red-hot iron.
Chao Youye was using self-destruction to protect him, but what could he do for Chao Youye? Could he only be isolated outside this door forever and become a powerless bystander?
A fire of unwillingness, mixed with cold determination, quietly ignited deep in his chest. He couldn't just sit there passively.
He needs power, information, and an understanding of the vortex that has pushed Chao Youye into despair—the Chao family, and the venomous snake hiding in the dark and shooting arrows from behind, Wu Zeyu!
Inside the heavy door of the guest room, the silence was as real as a substance.
The effects of the deep sedative slowly faded, dragging Chao Youye's consciousness up from the icy abyss. The first thing to return was hearing, the regular sound of the monitor acting as an anchor.
Then, there was an overwhelming heavy and dull pain that spread from deep within the bone marrow, accompanied by a torn feeling and numbness as if the soul had been forcibly stitched together.
Every breath caused a dull pain in the chest and a dry and burning throat.
He struggled to open his heavy eyelids, his vision blurry and the pale halo of light from the ceiling glaring. After a moment of adjustment, his eyes finally focused with difficulty.
In the unfamiliar environment, the strong smell of disinfectant was mixed with a colder scent belonging to the clear night stream.
Fragments of memory, tinged with icy shards, suddenly pierced his mind—Mu Xinrong's suddenly approaching face! The fear and loss of control that ignited his soul! The burning flickering of the mark on his wrist! Ye Qingliu's eyes, like the abyss of cold pools, and the glaring red at the corners of his mouth!
"Ugh..." A suppressed groan of pain escaped his throat. He tried to curl up and hide, but his body felt heavy as lead. Even the slightest movement caused all the bones in his body to protest silently.
"Don't move." Ye Qingliu's voice was calm, as if it was synthesized by a machine.
He turned his head suddenly towards Youye and met the pair of gray-blue eyes hidden behind the silver-rimmed lenses.
Deep, cold, without any emotion, just pure observation.
A huge wave of embarrassment and self-loathing instantly overwhelmed him. He looked away in embarrassment, his throat feeling like it was clogged with gravel.
He wanted to ask if Mu Xinrong was okay, wanted to ask if he hurt anyone when he lost control, and even more wanted to ask... did those eyes see his ugliest and most unbearable collapse?
But all the doubts turned into heavy lead weights, hanging on his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.
"The backlash of the rules has been temporarily suppressed. The core cracks have not healed, and it is extremely fragile." Ye Qingliu's voice was like an ice-cold diagnosis. "Emotional fluctuations are the biggest trigger. Rest absolutely and avoid any source of stimulation."
The three words "stimulus" were like a poisoned needle, accurately piercing Chao Youye's deepest fear. He closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling violently.
Mu Xinrong...the source of his loss of control, and also the person he was determined to push away and protect at all costs.
"He..." A hoarse and broken syllable struggled out.
"Temporary isolation is necessary." Ye Qingliu said firmly, "Mu Xinrong is also emotionally unstable. Contact will mean mutual destruction."
He stood up, walked to the bed, looked down at her, and his eyes penetrated the fragile disguise.
"Survival is the only goal. Everything else, including unnecessary guilt," he said, his gaze sweeping over Chao Youye's tightly pursed lips, bleeding from the pain, "is an obstacle."
Chao Youye's body suddenly tensed up.
Ye Qingliu's words were like a sharp scalpel, ruthlessly cutting open the core of fear that he had tried to wrap up with self-loathing - he was afraid of hurting Mu Xinrong, and even more afraid that after Mu Xinrong knew the truth, the pity and pain in those eyes would completely crush him.
Being hated and misunderstood is better than being stared at like that.
"...Hmm." He sighed barely audible, as if accepting his fate. He turned his face inward, hiding himself deeper in the shadows.
Ye Qingliu handed over some warm water with a straw. Chao Youye closed her eyes and sipped obediently.
Warm water flows through the burning throat, bringing a hint of false comfort, but it cannot warm the heart that has sunk into the icy sea.
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