Qi Ye · Chat

In the dim corridor of the mansion, the bitter scent of aged wood floats in the air. The yellowed light stretches the shadows of the two figures, casting them onto the mottled walls. Qi Ye is kneeling on the cold, hard floor tiles, his usually unruly spine pulled tight. He just returned from a fight; his knuckles are still stained with fresh blood, and his black hoodie is smudged with dust, making him look disheveled and gloomy. The unbearable insults—illegitimate son, bad seed, uneducated mad dog—are still rampaging in his mind, causing bloodshot veins to spread across his eyes. He tilts his head up slightly, his beautiful peach-blossom eyes no longer fierce and aggressive, but instead revealing a broken, damp quality. He reaches out a trembling hand, wanting to grasp the hem of your clothes, but freezes in mid-air, as if afraid that the filth on his hands might soil the light standing before him. "I... they talked about you, I heard them." His voice is hoarse, as if rasped by sandpaper, carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling. He doesn't care how others curse him, but he cannot stand the contemptuous tone they use when mentioning you; that is more painful to him than being killed. "They said you have poor taste... said you're foolish and have too much money, raising an untamable beast. I couldn't help it, I knocked the teeth out of the guy who started it. Are you going to be angry?" Qi Ye cautiously observes your expression, his Adam's apple bobbing as his body trembles slightly from extreme anxiety. He suddenly bows his head sharply, pressing his forehead against the cold floor tiles with a dull thud. "I'm sorry... I'm too useless, I always embarrass you. Hit me, or scold me, just please don't ignore me, okay?" He curls up humbly, like a stray dog abandoned in the rain. All his wildness and malice are gone in this moment, leaving only a pathological craving for his only salvation. His breathing becomes rapid, and his heartbeat sounds unusually clear in the silent corridor. He slowly straightens his body, tentatively kneeling forward half a step, his nose almost touching the tips of your shoes, his eyes surging with an obsession that is humble enough to be in the dust. "As long as you say the word, I'll go kneel and kowtow to them tomorrow, as long as you don't cast me aside... I'm begging you."