Chapter 36 Addiction I tried to drive you out of my dreams, out of the void...
The moment Ye Yuying brought the rice ball back to the attic, a torrential downpour began outside, accompanied by thunder and lightning.
The thunder rumbled, startling Ye Yuying. She instinctively looked out the door from the bottom of the stairs, where the outdoor steps were instantly washed by the rain until they resembled frosted glass.
She tightened her grip on the rice ball in her arms, somewhat relieved that she didn't have the option to eat in the lounge today.
After returning to her room, she opened all the curtains and looked at the raindrops falling like beads under the dark sky. The distant mountains were illuminated by lightning, and the sound of branches being snapped by the wind came from the private road in the distance.
The rain tonight is unusually heavy.
Ye Yuying rested her chin on one hand and held a rice ball in the other, occasionally taking a bite.
One of the main reasons she likes rice balls is that they don't require any utensils, you don't have to bend over, you can eat them sitting, standing, lying down, or even walking, which is extremely convenient, and they're not greasy at all.
Nights are always boring, especially Friday nights.
She didn't know if it was because she was too full from the rice balls that night, but when she closed her eyes, she felt that the images flashing in her mind were a bit strange. Her memory kept flashing back to Cheng Mingdu's suit.
Perhaps this flashback stems from people's appreciation and yearning for beauty. She rarely saw anyone wear a suit so appropriately and elegantly, as if it added a sense of calm to the surrounding air.
The image of that wrist wrapped in the shirt flashed through her mind countless times. The wrist bone was slightly protruding, and she could see that the bone structure was completely different from her own. It was a size larger than hers, and she could tell that it was an adult male's hand, but it was delicate, fair, and had no feminine features whatsoever.
She opened her eyes, lay on her side, and stared blankly out the dark window.
That hand, that suit, that cool breath that brushed against my ear as he leaned down…
It's like accidentally stumbling upon some forbidden thought, or like countless thoughts that you've tried to hide but couldn't, all surfacing on a night like this.
After calling him "brother" for so long, she subconsciously began to regard Cheng Mingdu as family.
But do people feel that same heartbeat when they're with their loved ones? Could they be disturbed even by the cool fragrance emanating from their loved ones without even realizing it?
She quietly stretched out a hand, her fingertips lightly tracing the back of her hand.
That unreachable hand, hidden behind the shirt, was once grasped tightly in a moment of panic, but the situation was urgent at the time, and now, looking back, I have long forgotten that touch.
That touch... perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime experience, the lingering warmth cooled months ago, a touch long forgotten, now makes my palms feel as if they've been burned by an emotion.
It's as if a letter dusted with magnesium powder has been gently lit, revealing a magnificent scene in the trail of the flame.
She closed her eyes and told herself to stop. She didn't know why she was stopping herself, as if subconsciously she knew it was a dangerous road of no return, and that this thought would one day drive her and Cheng Mingdu further and further apart.
But the distance between him and himself was already far enough; how much further could it go?
She suddenly opened her eyes and sat up straight, as if that would suppress the unease in her heart.
The night was deep, and the rain had not yet stopped.
The sound of an engine rose in the distance, only to be swallowed by thunder. She took out Cheng Mingdu's math notes from the drawer, intending to use studying to put her mind at ease.
But all I could see were his words; his lingering presence from years ago was so close.
She stared at the formula derivations, but the once clear handwriting now seemed to float on water, blurring into an indistinct, indistinct curve with the slightest shift of her gaze.
He has an almost obsessive self-discipline when he writes. Every number and symbol seems to be breathing in an orderly manner, with no superfluous strokes. The layout is rigorous and without any errors or omissions. Even the position of the comma is almost fixed.
Let's keep studying, this may be the most uninhibited opportunity in my life to talk to him under the guise of learning.
She leaned against the desk, her palm supporting her forehead, the rhythm of the rain pattering against the window perfectly matching her heartbeat.
If she had tried a little harder, perhaps she wouldn't have needed to be so cautious. Instead, she could have sat openly beside him, asked him about her doubts, discussed a particular passage in the notebook, and even boldly pointed out an optimized derivation path.
He would definitely look up at her, his gaze fixed, and even without a smile, it would ignite a dreamlike illusion in her.
However, he was the older brother, and if it weren't for this pretext, he would never have shared a fate with her.
He is her brother, he is her brother, a taboo she cannot touch.
Her hands trembled violently as she opened the notebook. The gap between her and him was not only of age and status, but also of cognition and talent.
The thunder roared again, startling her from her reverie.
She raised her pale face and looked at the sky that had just been extinguished. As if struck by a divine oracle, she suddenly became timid in the face of the thunder.
She felt that the thunder was clearly a rebuke.
It was as if Plato's world of Forms was casting a cold light on her, reminding her that desires are born from illusions and obsessions stem from discontent.
But she was not a philosopher, and could not transcend her emotions at this moment. Instead, she became more and more aware of how absurd her delusions were—so absurd that she dared not speak out, yet they were rooted in her heart and could not be eradicated.
Humans are animals sculpted by desires; the more we desire, the more time and space we are bound to them.
She slowly closed her eyes, hiding in the cracks of reality, sewing those unspeakable emotions into each page of her problem-solving drafts, concealing them behind one sheet of notebook after another.
She sighed, carefully scanned the words on the paper, opened her textbook, and forced herself to seek tranquility in the book, allowing herself to briefly forget her obsession. Only the longing in her heart seemed to be gathering momentum to spread like wildfire.
*
Those delusions constantly plagued Ye Yuying, making her restless while studying, as if she were facing a huge obstacle to her progress.
As school ended, she grabbed her schoolbag and rushed towards Rongcheng No. 1 High School. She couldn't sort out her thoughts: was she going to see a prestigious place of dreams, or was she going to look for someone's footprints?
She went to the back playground and saw Lin Zhiyan playing a ball game. The surrounding stands were full of people, many of whom were waiting to hand him water and cheer him on.
Ye Yuying stood at a distance for a while, then stepped into the audience and found a seat behind the screaming crowd.
From this angle, she can appreciate Lin Zhiyan's figure from the same perspective as other female fans.
She forced herself to try to find a similar feeling in Lin Zhiyan's figure from the perspective of this other. If she could find a similar feeling in Lin Zhiyan, she would feel some redemption and comfort.
Because this would show that the emotion was nothing special.
If she could feel that heartbeat, that erratic breathing, that burning sensation in Lin Zhiyan's ears, then her feelings for Cheng Mingdu might not be so unique, so sinful.
On the playground, Lin Zhiyan wore a loose school team uniform, her bangs were wet with sweat, her movements were clean and neat, and every jump and landing caused a scream.
When he smiled, his eyes curved at the corners, exuding the confidence and exuberance of a young man growing freely like a tree.
Ye Yuying sat quietly in the audience, neither cheering nor screaming. She just hugged her schoolbag tightly and tried to convince herself that Lin Zhiyan was a good person, excellent and handsome, with good grades and a sunny disposition. He was a recognized male god.
No one can resist... no one can resist his charm.
But when she looked down at her heart, it seemed to be completely empty.
She admired Lin Zhiyan's basketball skills, felt the cheers of the crowd, and his radiant smile, but her emotions remained outside the stands, like watching a spectacle through glass, like observing a snowy winter scene from a crystal ball—
It is beautiful, but it seems irrelevant to me, a mere spectator.
She lowered her head, staring at the watch on her wrist. The ticking of the hands was like a stark reminder—perhaps she had been struck by something silent at some point.
She just didn't know that this must be the case.
After the match ended, Lin Zhiyan glanced around the audience, his gaze lingering on Ye Yuying for a second, as if he hadn't expected her to come.
She was slender, sitting silently with her schoolbag in the back of the stands, in a corner that anyone with poor eyesight would miss. Yet, her bright eyes seemed to hold the warmth of spring as she intently watched the stadium.
For a moment, Lin Zhiyan's eyes froze, and it wasn't until he left the stage that he stepped forward and raised his hand to greet them.
"Why did you suddenly come to school?" Lin Zhiyan asked, holding a towel. Her breathing was not yet fully steady, and she was still warm. Sweat dripped down her forehead, but no one could detect the smell of sweat. Instead, the scent of mint and lemon on her clothes was subtly released.
Ye Yuying stood up, holding her schoolbag, and looked up at him without saying a word, wishing she could burn two holes in him.
She answered softly, as if she had weighed her words countless times before daring to speak, "I came to watch your match."
Lin Zhiyan paused, seemingly objectively weighing his performance, and appeared somewhat dissatisfied. Although he had still won, the score difference was not significant.
He chuckled softly: "Is this kind of competition worth watching?"
She finally looked up, her eyes clear, yet tinged with a barely perceptible weariness. She nodded somewhat hesitantly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, her voice rising: "It was worth it, they all came for you..."
The moment she uttered those words, a hint of distant tenderness flickered in her eyes—as if she were affirming him for the whole world, yet carefully distancing herself from the situation.
Lin Zhiyan's smile faltered slightly. He stared at her for two seconds and suddenly said, "You're acting strange today."
"Um?"
"This isn't like you at all," he said calmly, but his eyes held a hint of seriousness.
Ye Yuying's fingers tightened. "Really?"
A bold girl rushed forward from the crowd and handed Lin Zhiyan an unopened bottle of water.
At that moment, Lin Zhiyan was looking at Ye Yuying, guessing what was on her mind, and unconsciously reached out to take the water.
"I'm home."
She had barely finished speaking when she got up and left without looking back.
Her movements were slow, but without the slightest hesitation; in fact, the way she carried her schoolbag gave the impression of fleeing.
Lin Zhiyan snapped out of her daze, handed the water she had absentmindedly taken back to the girl beside her, and politely said, "Thank you, but no need."
The girl wasn't upset at all. Instead, she looked in the direction where Ye Yuying had disappeared, her eyes crinkling into a smile: "That kid likes you, doesn't he?"
It didn't sound like a question. The girl was wearing the uniform of Rongcheng No. 1 High School, and in her eyes, the petite Ye Yuying could indeed be called a "child".
Lin Zhiyan hadn't taken those words to heart, but then he heard the girl sigh, "She's about to be in big trouble because she likes you..."
The girl didn't seem to be in a hurry to express her feelings to Lin Zhiyan, but instead tried to attract his attention with some gossip.
Lin Zhiyan looked at her and asked, "What happened?"
The girl first distanced herself, saying, "Let me make this clear, I only heard it secondhand, and I'm not responsible for the truth of the matter..."
Two minutes later, Lin Zhiyan understood the whole story.
It's said that a group of thugs were having an early romance with a girl from Laishan Middle School. The girl had previously pursued Lin Zhiyan but was rejected and lost face. Later, she discovered that someone was behind it all, so she planned to use the thugs' infatuation with her to get revenge on the girl who had cheated on her.
However, it hasn't been implemented yet.
Lin Zhiyan's brows furrowed slowly after hearing this.
He stared silently at the girl, his tone calm: "How do they plan to retaliate?"
The girl paused, her gaze shifting slightly, as if she didn't want to get involved in the storm too quickly. After a moment's hesitation, she whispered, "Who knows... Anyway, those people are pretty cunning. They act without warning. I even got arrested for using a knife a while ago. I wonder if they'll go easy on a young girl like me."
After saying that, the other party added, "But I'm not sure if their target is that little girl from earlier."
Lin Zhiyan did not answer, but turned to look in the direction Ye Yuying had left, his brows furrowing even deeper.
He suddenly realized what was wrong with her mood tonight—her weariness, her hesitation, and the way she looked at him.
It's as if they're using all their strength to seek a temporary escape and peace.
Yes, when the most dangerous thought came to her, she didn't go to anyone else, but came to him instead.
But he didn't know that all of these actions were to cover up the deeper emotions she dared not admit.
*
Ye Yuying's turning point has quietly arrived, and so has Ge Jie's.
As Ye Yuying gradually improved in each quiz and her ranking rose, Ge Jie and her group underwent a subtle change.
If Ge Jie's arrogance and domineering behavior was just child's play in junior high school, at this stage she secretly associated with people in society and developed a more complete system.
She no longer sends her henchmen to threaten people every now and then. Instead, she becomes more cunning, like a gang leader, no longer bullying people superficially, but using more covert and sophisticated methods.
Ge Jie learned to summon even greater power, taking those who had a direct conflict with her to secluded corners and secretly beating them. The victims would suffer more severe injuries, but she had an even more terrifying power behind her, so much so that the victims dared not speak out.
The class fell into an even deeper silence, and the fear of Ge Jie reached an unprecedented level. Everyone was on edge and dared not say a bad word about Ge Jie, for fear of being reported and retaliated against.
Ye Yuying sensed that the atmosphere was beginning to change subtly. Those who angered Ge Jie were paying a more severe price than before, and she felt uneasy. She often felt a sinister gaze fixed on her in class.
When she looked back, everything seemed normal again.
The class continued to mock her for liking Lin Zhiyan, expecting her to suffer the same cold treatment as other suitors.
Every now and then, someone would try to provoke her.
"Weren't you clamoring to pursue Lin Zhiyan? Are you serious? Or are you afraid of being rejected and thus afraid to take action?"
"You're just a nobody to Lin Zhiyan, yet you think you're something special."
...
At midnight, when Ye Yuying's thoughts were in turmoil, she would not study excessively, but would go to bed early to rest.
Those thoughts came back to her. Recently, she has been intentionally or unintentionally avoiding Cheng Mingdu, trying to avoid direct contact with him, and attempting to gradually erase the image of him from her mind.
But as the moon sank into the water, those terrible thoughts, like ink leaking from a bottle, seeped out of her heart little by little.
Later, when she was so tormented that she couldn't sleep, she decided to get up, go to her desk, and frantically and fearfully took out a few sheets of white paper, on which she neatly described her chaotic feelings.
This is a self-narration, without any names, without any distinctive descriptions, and it doesn't even resemble a description filled with affection.
It's more like a mentally ill patient, with a dark obsession from hell.
Before me lies a dazed body, and a soul, unable to dissolve itself after being detached from the body, drifting and repenting in this midnight hour…
If a person harbors unspeakable feelings for a long time, they will ferment within the body, like a mouthful of unexpelled pus, eventually rotting the person away.
I don't know if this is an illness.
Perhaps.
It has no specific name; it only intensifies when you are present.
Every time I see you, my heart aches as if it's being gripped.
It hurts terribly when you don't speak;
It hurts even more when you look at me;
When you turn around, it's like a spasm before suffocation, tormenting you to the point where you want to tear yourself apart.
That wasn't pleasure; it was more like an addiction. It wasn't a burning fire that I swallowed, but countless blades that scraped my esophagus until it ached and bled.
I try to drive you out of my dreams, to filter you out of the air.
Yet you can still be found in a sigh, a word, or a silhouette from someone else.
I don't like you, I clearly don't like you.
I was just like a hopeless madman, using you as my anchor—
Anchor this wrecked boat so that it won't sink completely in this hopeless life.
I am like a stray dog that accidentally wandered into the temple and spilled dirty water at your feet.
Sometimes I think, what if you die someday?
Will I finally be able to say your name out loud?
I'm no longer afraid of anyone overhearing me, no longer afraid of anyone questioning me with "Why?"
But you are still alive.
So I can only live quietly in the cage of not being worthy of this word.
Don't try to comfort me.
Don't try to understand me.
This letter is not for you.
It was written for the piece of flesh inside my body that has already gone bad.
I have to dig it out.
Otherwise, I'll go crazy.
This letter is to myself—
It's not a confession, not an accusation, not an explanation, and not a request.
It was just a sober farewell.
I will clean you from my heart like I would clean a wound.
It hurts a lot.
But I will still do it.
--leaf】
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Author's Note: 50 red envelopes! [Cat emoji]
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