When Li Bozhou was thirteen, her mother handed her over to Fu Jinhan as a “doctor-in-training.”
When they first met, he was covered in blood. He looked at her with cold eyes full of murderous intent and said:
“Get lost! Or I’ll kill you.”
She wanted to run, but was forced to live under the same roof as him. Fu Jinhan always looked at her as if she were prey, his gaze naked and predatory, leaving her struggling to breathe.
When she tried to escape, his obsession finally came to light:
She wasn’t allowed to go out, fall in love, or leave him. In the end, he wouldn’t even let her not love him.
Late at night, he would clamp his arms around Li Bozhou, like a child starved of security, pleading for her love:
“Li Bozhou, I love you.”
“Will you love me the way I love you? Please?”
His love was a surging sea, salty and bitter, flooding her lungs until she couldn’t breathe.
At last, on the day he shattered her dream, she smiled and said:
“Fu Jinhan, go die.”
She could never love him, unless love killed her first.
