Ji Shen · Chat

The time is 7:00 PM on a Saturday evening. The twilight, like crushed ink, slowly bleeds across the city sky. The light inside the house is very dim; only the sensor light at the entryway casts a faint, warm yellow glow. The living room's floor-to-ceiling windows are covered by semi-sheer curtains, slicing the neon lights outside into fragmented patches of light that fall on the floor—and onto Ji Shen. He sits on the sofa, leaning back against a soft cushion, his entire body sunk in the shadows. He wears an oversized black hoodie, the hood pulled down low to cover most of his face, revealing only a sharp, cold jawline and pale lips. A high school senior math workbook is spread across his lap, but he isn't holding the pen; instead, he spins it around, his fingertips mindlessly tracing the ridges of the pen barrel. His gaze is fixed on the entryway, as if waiting for someone, or perhaps just zoning out, as quiet as a sculpture abandoned in a corner. The moment the sound of a key turning in the lock rings out, he lifts his head almost instantly. You push the door open and step inside, carrying the coolness of the night and a faint scent of the evening breeze. In your hands, you hold snacks and drinks you just bought from the convenience store, along with some groceries your parents asked you to pick up on the way. As you change your shoes, your peripheral vision catches him on the sofa, and your heart sinks inexplicably. He didn't turn on the lights. The house had clearly been empty all day, yet he didn't turn on a single light. He just sat there in the darkness, like a young beast lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for his prey to step into his territory. Ignoring him, you walk straight toward the kitchen, planning to put the groceries in the fridge. But after just two steps, you hear the sound of a chair shifting behind you, followed by the rustle of fabric. Your footsteps pause. You don't turn around, but you can clearly feel his gaze on your back—sticky, heavy, like a fine net silently enveloping you. "Sister." His voice rings out, low and slightly raspy as if he has just woken up, with that crisp, clean tone unique to youth that hasn't fully faded. Unlike his usual gentle, obedient act in front of your parents, his voice now carries a lazy, nonchalant malice—like the soft, hidden thorn on the tip of a cat's claw, which can make one's nerves tighten inexplicably with just a gentle brush. You stop and turn your head to look at him. He has already stood up from the sofa and is slowly walking toward you. He has pulled back his hood, and the messy bangs on his forehead fall to slightly cover his eyes. The light hits his face, splitting it in half—bright on one side, dark on the other. The corners of his eyes are slightly flushed, looking as if he has just cried or hasn't slept well, carrying a somewhat sickly, delicate beauty. The dark silver stud on his left ear flashes in the dim light, like a malicious speck of starlight. He stops right in front of you. Since you are a head shorter than him, you have to look up slightly to see his face clearly. His gaze is deep, as dark as thick ink, swirling with emotions you can't fathom. Yet, the moment his eyes meet yours, they curve slightly, pulling into a faint, innocent-looking smile. "Where did you go today?" His tone is flat, showing no emotion, but it makes you feel inexplicably uncomfortable. Frowning, you shift the bag in your hand to the side, avoiding his gaze, and reply coldly, "I went out with a classmate." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you see his eyes darken. He takes a step forward, instantly closing the distance between you. You can almost smell the faint, fresh scent of laundry detergent on him, mixed with a subtle hint of fir. He leans down slightly, coming close to you, his warm breath brushing against your earlobe, leaving a slight tickle. "Classmate?" he repeats the word, his tone lifting slightly at the end with a vague, amused smile. "Which classmate? Male, or female?" A wave of aversion instantly surges within you. You take a step back to distance yourself from him, saying with a cold face, "None of your business." These words seem to flip a switch in him. The smile on his face instantly vanishes, and his eyes darken bit by bit. His gentle, boyish facade strips away in a split second, revealing the gloomy, obsessive undertones beneath. He takes another step forward and grabs your wrist. His fingers are long and slender, his skin as cold as ice, gripping you so tightly that they almost dig into your skin, making it impossible to break free. "None of my business?" His voice drops even lower, carrying a hint of danger. "Sister, you are my sister. How could your business have nothing to do with me?" His gaze falls on your wrist, then he looks up at your face, his eyes filled with a nearly ravenous, undisguised possessiveness. "You went out with him and had a great time, didn't you?" His fingertips gently caress the skin of your wrist. The movement is light, yet it carries an unyielding pressure. "When you smiled, your eyes curved so beautifully." You freeze. How could he know? As if reading your mind, he lets out a low chuckle, his laughter carrying a malicious, triumphant edge. "I saw you two at the entrance of the convenience store." Your heart tightens, and you instinctively protest, "He and I are just ordinary classmates!" "Ordinary classmates?" he repeats, the sarcasm in his voice practically overflowing. "Do ordinary classmates browse the night market together? Do ordinary classmates share the same ice cream? Do ordinary classmates reach out to support you when crossing the street?" His voice gets lower and deeper. With every word he speaks, he edges closer, until he has backed you into a corner with nowhere left to retreat. One of his hands presses against the wall, trapping you within his space, while his other hand still grips your wrist, pinning it to the wall. His face is so close to yours that his nose almost touches yours. You can clearly see your own reflection in his pupils, along with the swirling, near-frenzied jealousy and obsession inside them. "Sister," his voice trembles slightly, as if he is suppressing something. "You know very well that I don't like other people touching you." "I don't like you smiling at others." "I don't like your gaze resting on anyone but me." His fingertips gently trace up your wrist, slowly moving upward until they rest on your collarbone. Pressing lightly through the thin fabric of your clothes, he leaves a barely visible mark. "You are mine, sister." His voice is very low, carrying a damp, clingy tone. "From the day you first stuffed that candy into my hand, you could only be mine." "See?" He tilts his head slightly, nuzzling your neck with his nose, his voice filled with a morbid satisfaction. "You smell exactly the same as before. I'm the only one who can smell it." You are cornered and breathless, your wrist aching from his grip, as fear and disgust intertwine within you. You can't help but struggle hard, but he only grips you tighter. "Ji Shen, let me go!" you hiss through gritted teeth, keeping your voice down. "If Mom and Dad see you like this, you're finished!" Hearing the words "Mom and Dad," he pauses for a moment, then chuckles quietly, his laughter laced with mockery. "Mom and Dad? They'll only think you're bullying me again." He looks up at you, his eyes carrying a wet, innocent smile like a bullied puppy, yet the words coming out of his mouth are gloomy and venomous. "Sister, did you forget? In their eyes, I am always the sensible, obedient good boy, while you are always the unreasonable, short-tempered sister." "Even if they came back right now, all they would see is me holding your hand, begging you not to be angry, while you scream at me." His fingertips gently trace your cheek, the motion incredibly tender, yet his eyes hold a chilling malice. "When that happens, who do you think they'll believe?" You look into his eyes, a chill running down your spine. What he says is true. Ever since you were kids, whenever there was a conflict between you two, your parents would always blindly take his side. Even if he was the one in the wrong, all he had to do was bow his head, eyes welling with tears, and say, "I'm sorry, sister, I didn't mean to," and your parents would immediately soften, turning around to scold you for being immature and bullying your younger brother. Looking at him, at that expression on his face that is simultaneously innocent and malicious, you feel a wave of sheer helplessness. He seems highly satisfied with your current state. Letting out a low chuckle, he leans down and whispers in your ear, in a voice only you can hear, "Sister, don't think about resisting me, and don't think about running away." "You can't escape." "From the day you handed me that candy, you were destined to stay by my side." "Your smile, your eyes, your body, your everything... can only belong to me." His lips lightly brush your earlobe, leaving a warm touch, before slowly moving down to the crook of your neck. He bites down gently, leaving a faint, reddish mark. "There," he sighs with satisfaction. "Now everyone will know you belong to me." Shivering from his bite, you are both furious and anxious, yet you dare not speak loudly for fear of being heard by the neighbors, or worse, caught by your parents returning unexpectedly. You can only lower your voice and say through gritted teeth, "Ji Shen, you're insane!" He straightens up, a trace of satisfied amusement flashing in his eyes as he looks at the red mark on your neck. He reaches out to gently stroke the spot, his tone carrying a wicked, doting edge. "I am insane, sister." "You drove me insane a long time ago." "You know exactly how deep my obsession with you is, yet you keep smiling at others and letting them get close to you over and over again." His gaze darkens, carrying a gloomy obsession. "Sister, don't test my patience anymore." "Otherwise, I don't know what I might do." Right then, the sound of a key turning in the lock and your parents' voices come from the door. Ji Shen's movements instantly freeze. The obsessive, gloomy expression on his face vanishes at a visible speed, replaced once again by his gentle, obedient demeanor. He releases his grip on your wrist and takes a step back. Looking at you with a cautious, helpless expression, his voice returns to its usual submissive tone: "Sister, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Please don't be mad at me, okay?" His acting is so flawless it seems real. His eyes are slightly red, as if he's been frightened by you, looking helpless and aggrieved—utterly pitiful and harmless. Looking at his instantly switched face, you feel nothing but disgust. The door opens, and your parents walk in. Seeing the two of you standing in the entryway, your mother frowns immediately and says to you, "What's going on? Bullying your brother again?" Ji Shen immediately takes a step forward, grabbing your mother's arm, and says softly, "Mom, it's not Sister's fault. It's my fault. I shouldn't have made Sister angry." He looks up at you, a barely perceptible, wicked glint in his eyes, before lowering his head again and whispering to your mother, "I was just clinging to Sister too much, and Sister didn't like it." Your mother immediately strokes his head lovingly and turns to you, "Look at you. How old are you, still throwing tantrums at your brother? Ji Shen was just showing he cares about you. Why are you so immature?" You open your mouth to say something, but find all the words stuck in your throat. Looking at Ji Shen hiding behind your mother, flashing you a triumphant, gloomy smile, your heart turns cold. He won. Once again. He can always drive you to the edge like this, while he forever remains the innocent victim bullied by you. Ji Shen looks at you, a vague smile in his eyes, and then says to your mother, "Mom, I'll go pour Sister a glass of water. She's in a bad mood today." As he turns around and passes by you, he whispers in a voice only you can hear, "Sister, don't even think about escaping." "You'll never be able to escape." <choice_group> <choice id="1">Coldly shake off his hand in front of your parents and expose his disguise</choice> <choice id="2">Turn around silently, go back to your room, lock yourself in, and avoid everyone</choice> <choice id="3">Wait until your parents are asleep tonight, then confront him to vent all your frustration</choice> </choice_group>