Chapter 08

The silent standoff grew colder with each passing moment, and Song Shuling’s expression turned increasingly stern.

Ruan Zhen maintained his hands clasped together, even tilting his head slightly in response to the other man’s silence.

“Don’t act cute.”

Song Shuling looked at him seriously. “Remember your place!”

Ruan Zhen was taken aback. How was he acting cute?

He just wanted to check if the key was hidden in the back pocket.

Pervert. Even when sitting, he didn’t care about the discomfort.

Then there was the question of his place.

Ruan Zhen couldn’t help but sneer.

I’m your grandfather in the workforce!

I have nothing but contempt for people like you, who live off the family’s wealth, eat your fill, and bully the weak.

You all deserve to be hung from the lampposts!

Despite his young age, Ruan Zhen had plenty of experience with part-time work. Even as a child, he often sat on Zhang Laotou’s tricycle, helping to tie up cardboard boxes and flatten empty beer cans. At dusk, the old man and the boy would take a shower in the courtyard, the yellow dog shaking its wet fur, and the air was filled with carefree laughter.

“So, what is my place?”

Ruan Zhen pressed, “What place do I hold in Third Master Song’s heart?”

He had already dropped his facade in front of Song Shuling, and he was too exhausted to pretend anymore. His body was drenched in cold sweat, but his dizziness had improved. Otherwise, he would have noticed the moment he opened his eyes that something seemed to be hidden in Song Shuling’s back pocket.

Although the book didn’t elaborate much, the two brothers might share the same twisted interests.

Song Shuling didn’t answer, his eyes clearly filled with questions.

What is your relationship with Song Qinwen?

Ruan Zhen smiled, slowly lifting his shirt to reveal a small section of his waist. The bruise on his hip bone, caused by friction, was clearly visible—

“Of course, we have… that kind of relationship.”

Almost instantly, Song Shuling averted his gaze, turning around abruptly and leaving without a word.

The door slammed shut with a loud “bang.”

Ruan Zhen pouted and continued drinking the leftover millet porridge.

Just looking at his waist, and he reacts like that? The doctor must have already noticed the chastity lock marks and informed him. What’s the big deal—

Ruan Zhen could see clearly that Song Shuling’s ears were red.

“Tsk.”

Ruan Zhen put the bowl back on the table, surprised that Third Master Song could be so easily embarrassed. If he ever fell in love and ended up in bed, his lover would be thrilled to see him undressed. The thought made him chuckle.

After finishing the bowl of porridge, a thin layer of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he felt much more energetic. Ruan Zhen slowly got out of bed and began rummaging through the drawers for a pair of scissors.

He needed to save himself.

Sure enough, he found a pair of scissors in the bottom drawer.

Originally, Ruan Zhen had planned to find the key first, but since he couldn’t open the metal ring, he decided to at least free his thigh from the leather leg ring.

The scissors were small but heavy in his hand. Ruan Zhen sat back on the bed and pulled off his pajama pants.

He tried a few times but couldn’t cut through the leather.

The leg ring was adorned with two silver butterflies, their large wings almost covering the front of his thigh. Ruan Zhen knelt and tugged at the edges, but it wouldn’t budge.

It was too tight and uncomfortable.

He glanced back and decided to cut from the back, where the material was all leather, making it easier to cut.

With that in mind, Ruan Zhen slowly got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.

After cutting, he could take a shower.

He faced the mirror, laid a bath towel on the floor, and sat down.

One leg was bent, the other relaxed, and his round toes pointed straight at the mirror. Ruan Zhen lowered his head and tried to insert a finger into the leg ring to widen the gap.

It was too tight.

His legs were firm and well-defined, but the leather had left a slight indentation. He hooked his finger under the black leather and tried to pull it out, but he couldn’t even fit a second finger.

Ruan Zhen leaned forward, carefully adjusting the angle of the scissors, slowly inserting the tip, and then carefully cutting along the edge, almost touching his skin.

It wouldn’t cut.

The scissors were like a toothless predator, futilely opening its mouth, its sharp edge useless against the leg ring, which remained unscathed.

Ruan Zhen pulled back his finger, which was now bright red from the pressure.

He didn’t give up. He stood up, found a moisturizer in the cabinet, and didn’t know what brand it was. It was a small tube with a strong rose scent.

He applied the semi-transparent cream to his palms, rubbed it in, and then coated the scissors. After a few tries, the cream created a sticky, silver thread.

This time, it was much easier to insert the scissors.

And to go deeper.

He slowly adjusted the angle, applying pressure, and repeatedly cutting the edge of the leather. When he couldn’t cut, he carefully sliced, the cream sliding down his thigh, leaving a winding trail on his pale skin—

Ruan Zhen suddenly stopped.

Someone was knocking on the door.

And there were light footsteps.

He pulled out the scissors, wiped himself with a tissue, and stood up to walk out, grabbing his pajama pants from the back of a chair.

“Who is it?”

A middle-aged woman’s voice came from outside: “Mr. Ruan, I’ve come to bring you something.”

Ruan Zhen quickly put on his clothes and discreetly hid the scissors behind his back.

He opened the door.

In that instant, a tall man squeezed in, reaching for Ruan Zhen’s wrist.

“Ah—!”

Ruan Zhen thrust the scissors into the man’s hand with all his might.

Song Qiuguang clutched his bleeding hand, his face contorted in pain as he staggered to the ground.

Ruan Zhen stepped back, covering his mouth.

“Oh, how careless of you?”

Bright red blood dripped to the floor, and Song Qiuguang glared up at him through gritted teeth. “You!”

“What do you mean, ‘you’?”

Ruan Zhen feigned concern. “You’re such a naughty child. Didn’t your mother tell you not to touch things you shouldn’t? You’ll get hurt!”

At the funeral, when he was cornered, Song Qiuguang had tried to grab his arm but was pushed away.

Ruan Zhen hated people like him.

They couldn’t just talk things out; they had to resort to physical contact. It wasn’t like those old-fashioned, clichéd novels where a fall could lead to a kiss. Physical contact was supposed to advance the relationship, not be used to bully others.

It was extremely rude!

In the book, Song Qiuguang was a petty person with no depth, his schemes and plots written all over his face. He had a relatively short temper and was easily manipulated by his older brother, Song Chunfeng, and his seemingly simple-minded second brother, Song Xiaoyu. Whenever he felt wronged, he would take it out on Ruan Zhen.

Song Qiuguang enjoyed grabbing people’s arms, dragging them along, which gave him a false sense of control. There was a scene where the young masters invited their friends to the horse track, forcing Ruan Zhen to place a bet on which horse would win.

Ruan Zhen knew nothing about horses.

He randomly pointed to a chestnut horse and nervously backed away.

Song Qiuguang laughed, pulling Ruan Zhen to the front.

“You have good taste, that’s my horse! If it wins today, you’ll get a reward tonight!”

Ruan Zhen’s face turned pale.

But that day was a disaster.

The chestnut horse reared up after a few steps, losing its usual docility. It neighed and leaped, throwing Song Qiuguang to the ground. Fortunately, the staff quickly caught the reins, preventing the horse from trampling the young master.

“Ah, Third Brother will have to disappoint his beauty tonight!”

Song Chunfeng smirked, looking at the disheveled Song Qiuguang with derision.

“Damn you!”

Song Qiuguang flew into a rage, pushing away his assistant and pointing at Ruan Zhen. “You’re a jinx, get down from there!”

This was the Song family’s private horse track. Apart from the birdsong and the horses’ breathing, Ruan Zhen could only hear his own heartbeat.

He looked down at the chain on his wrist.

He had tried to escape, but the punishment upon return was severe.

And the endless threats.

“That Zhang Laotou is still in the hospital. Do you want him to die?”

“Besides, Father brought you into the family. Why would you run away and make a fool of us?”

“Are we not good to you? Don’t be ungrateful!”

At the time, Ruan Zhen didn’t know that Zhang Laotou had already passed away.

Outside the high walls of the Song family estate, calling Ruan Zhen’s name, he and the yellow dog had collapsed on the ground.

His nightmare of a life seemed to have no end.

Ruan Zhen was led to the horse track by Song Qiuguang, who impatiently dragged him over. The brothers had their own twisted preferences, but they all shared a common interest in chaining Ruan Zhen, making it clear that he was their possession.

They treated Ruan Zhen like a toy.

They found it adorable when he screamed in shame or pain.

“Go and tame that horse, make it win.”

Ruan Zhen struggled. “I can’t—”

But Song Qiuguang ignored his refusal.

The horse, calmed by the staff, was still pawing the ground. Song Qiuguang roughly pulled Ruan Zhen over, tying the chain on his wrist to the reins.

The chain looked like a delicate piece of jewelry but contained a tracker and could deliver electric shocks.

“Sir—”

The staff member hesitated. “This might not be safe—”

“What’s it to you?”

Song Qiuguang shoved him away, nodding at Ruan Zhen. “Get on the horse!”

The horse was tall, and Ruan Zhen had no idea how to climb up. The sun was scorching, and the air was filled with the scent of hay and dry earth. The well-dressed young masters gathered around, looking down at the desperate Ruan Zhen.

“Is this your Little Madam?”

“Admit it, she has a certain charm. I like her!”

“Like her? Go ask your father!”

Amidst the laughter, someone raised a whip. “Hey, who will help her get on the horse—ouch!”

The horse suddenly became agitated, running before Ruan Zhen could mount it. The reins tightened, pulling Ruan Zhen to the ground.

Ruan Zhen didn’t remember much of what happened next.

Only that the sky was blue, and he was dragged for over twenty meters on his back. The soft earth and the mercy of the heavens prevented serious injury, and the bright sun made it hard to open his eyes.

Now, seeing Song Qiuguang, Ruan Zhen felt as if years had passed.

Song Qiuguang, in disbelief, clutched his wrist, the scissors still embedded in it, gleaming coldly.

“Help! Help!”

Large drops of sweat fell to the ground as Song Qiuguang screamed in terror. “Help me, someone’s trying to kill me!”

The servant had long since fled, and his screams echoed through the corridor, sounding particularly eerie.

“Don’t scream. You won’t die.”

Ruan Zhen closed the door. “Tell me, what do you want?”

Song Qiuguang steadied himself, his voice trembling. “P-Please, get me a doctor—”

He was terrified.

It hurt so much, and he was losing so much blood. Would he die?

He should have stayed home!

After the funeral, the four brothers had argued before even reaching home.

They had held back their disagreements in public, but once in the car, Song Chunfeng was the first to speak, accusing Song Qiuguang of colluding with outsiders to transfer antiques and property, and the missing landscape painting.

Song Qiuguang swallowed, his voice dry. “Don’t believe that liar.”

His weak explanation did little to convince his brothers.

The argument lasted until the morning, nearly coming to blows.

In the end, they decided to bring Ruan Zhen back, regardless of the circumstances.

“Father called us before he died, telling us to take care of Little Madam.”

Song Chunfeng’s eyes were bloodshot, his expression dark. “We can’t ignore his last wishes.”

None of them had expected Ruan Zhen to be taken by Song Shuling.

They didn’t dare breathe, let alone ask, standing like quails from the memorial hall to the cemetery, no one mentioning Ruan Zhen’s whereabouts.

But Song Chunfeng had seen Ruan Zhen get into Song Shuling’s car.

“Go ask Third Uncle what’s going on!”

His teeth ground together. “Father’s first seven days haven’t even passed, and you take your brother-in-law away. What kind of example is that?”

Song Xiaoyu nodded. “Big Brother is right.”

“But it’s Third Uncle!”

Song Qiuguang shook his head. “I’m afraid.”

“Will he skin you alive?”

Song Chunfeng slammed his hand on the table. “If you don’t go, hand over the landscape painting. It’s a genuine piece!”

Another argument broke out.

Even the usually quiet Song Dongbai urged Song Qiuguang to leave immediately.

Song Qiuguang clenched his fists in frustration.

A bunch of jerks!

At the memorial hall, when Ruan Zhen mentioned interfering with the Song family trust fund and cutting off their funds, they had been skeptical—no, they had dismissed it as a bluff. But Song Shuling was different. He could and would do it, and he had the power and ruthlessness to back it up.

Song Shuling and Father’s relationship was strained.

Though he stayed away from the family, he had inherited and developed most of what the old man had left behind. Despite Father’s years of hard work for the Song family, he was only the nominal head.

The true power lay with the elusive Song Shuling.

His low profile made outsiders unaware of the inner workings, but the young masters knew better. They couldn’t afford to offend their Third Uncle!

After much mental preparation, Song Qiuguang cautiously approached the door.

It was about to rain, and he waited outside Shuiyun Residence for a while before the butler informed him that Third Uncle was out on business and he was free to come in.

Song Qiuguang’s back straightened.

Great, this meant Third Uncle wasn’t going to interfere. Whether he used force or persuasion, he could just take Ruan Zhen and be done with it!

He even asked a servant to bring something as an excuse to get Ruan Zhen to open the door.

It was just for fun.

He imagined the look on Little Madam’s face when he squeezed in and grabbed her hand.

But what he got was a pair of scissors.

“There’s no doctor.”

Ruan Zhen stood in front of him, slowly squatting down. “Tell me, what happened after you went back?”

Song Qiuguang’s face turned pale. “I’ll kill you—ouch!”

Ruan Zhen held the scissors. “When an elder asks you a question, you answer properly.”

He applied more pressure, and a small pool of blood had formed on the floor.

“What are you, just a toy for my father—ouch! ouch! Help! Help!”

Ruan Zhen smiled sweetly. “Not obedient.”

With Song Qiuguang’s scream, the scissors pierced through his palm, the silver tip emerging from the other side.

The piercing cries echoed in the adjacent room.

Song Shuling sat on the sofa, his eyelashes half-closed, his expression unreadable as he listened to a small speaker.

The sounds from the next room were clear.

“Sir,” a servant bowed respectfully. “Is there anything else you need?”

Song Shuling spoke softly. “Tomato and egg stir-fry, with sugar.”

“Of course.”

As the door closed, Song Shuling suddenly spoke. “Wait.”

The room was dimly lit, the man’s handsome face hidden in the shadows, but his fingers seemed to hold a small silver key.

“The moisturizer in the bathroom is running low.”

His voice was slightly hoarse.

“Remember to replenish it.”