The Dark Room

Fang Zhou spoke words buried deep within his heart.

His tone was calm, like a serene lake, slow as if time had frozen.

Yet, each word he uttered was like thunder, striking Qiao Sisi’s heart, causing turmoil.

She was shocked, eyes wide, staring at Fang Zhou, as if trying to see through him.

After careful observation, she realized Fang Zhou wasn’t lying.

In that moment, a rare blush of shame crept onto her face.

She knew her actions were despicable and shameless.

She also knew Fang Zhou must resent her.

But she never expected him to feel this way.

“I don’t want to hate you because I love you too.”

Fang Zhou’s voice was deep and firm, like a cry from his soul.

His gaze was sharp, piercing Qiao Sisi’s defenses, as if to tear them down.

Qiao Sisi looked away, avoiding his eyes, feeling both ashamed and awkward.

The wind roared like a beast, threatening to swallow the world.

The biting cold pierced their thin clothes, spreading like a plague, invading their bodies.

Faces were frozen stiff, muscles losing elasticity.

Even speaking felt impossible, as if ice clogged their throats.

Time dragged on painfully. Finally, after a long silence, she seemed to make a difficult decision.

She spoke slowly, “Then… come back with me now. Tomorrow we’ll fly to Kyoto to see your sister.”

Hearing this, Fang Zhou’s eyes lit up, joy flickering within.

He couldn’t believe how easily his wish was granted, feeling secretly relieved.

The sudden joy was so wonderful, he regretted running at night.

But then he realized the necessity of his actions.

Without fleeing, mere words wouldn’t have conveyed his resolve to Qiao Sisi.

In hindsight, the risk was worth it, showing her his sincerity.

No matter what, tomorrow he’d reunite with his sister, the most important thing.

With this thought, his worries vanished, replaced by hope.

Fang Zhou wrapped an arm around Qiao Sisi, holding her close.

They rode back to the village in an off-road vehicle.

Qiao Sisi seemed exhausted, closing her eyes without speaking.

Fang Zhou, absorbed in his joy, didn’t disturb her.

An hour later, they reached the village.

Fang Zhou woke Qiao Sisi, eagerly opening the car door.

He saw her smile and say, “Let me go first; I need the restroom.”

He nodded, letting her out first.

But as he stepped out, two men pinned him to the ground.

A third quickly tied him up with rope.

Fang Zhou realized and struggled, but it was futile.

The rope was too tight to escape.

“What’s this? Let me go!”

Fang Zhou glared, demanding answers from Qiao Sisi.

Weren’t they leaving tomorrow? Why tie him up?

Did she change her mind?

Panic rose within him, seeking answers.

Qiao Sisi’s expression was cold, devoid of humor.

The wind tousled her hair gently.

She approached, lifting his chin, gazing down with a knowing look.

She spoke deliberately, “Your words are logical and reasonable.”

“But I won’t believe a word anymore.”

At that moment, Qiao Sisi seemed like Han Xi, their coldness and calmness alike, sparking despair.

Fang Zhou opened his mouth to defend himself, but she gave him no chance.

A man taped his mouth shut, silencing him.

He could only make muffled sounds.

Then he saw Qiao Sisi bow to the men, speaking softly.

“Thank you all. My husband has mental issues.

I’ll pay you tonight’s wages later; you can go rest.”

The men exchanged glances, sensing something amiss, but money’s lure made them ignore it.

The crowd dispersed, leaving two men to carry Fang Zhou inside.

This room was unlike the previous one—dark, with no windows, leaving him in shadows.

Darkness amplifies emotions, turning fear and confusion into a blade.

Fang Zhou, usually brave, didn’t scream, conserving energy by the wall, reflecting on his failure.

Didn’t Qiao Sisi agree?

Or was it the boy-who-cried-wolf story, experienced too many times, leading to her complete distrust?