When Shen Que picked up Jiang Yu, he knew he was finished.
This pale and fragile little beauty with a disabled leg looked at him like a frightened deer. She was obviously trembling with fear, but she still tried to smile gratefully at him.
Shen Que gave him the most luxurious cage, the most meticulous care, and used the gentlest force to lock all his ways.
"Yu Yu, you don't want to go anywhere." He kissed the tears away from the corners of the young man's eyes, and his voice was as low as a sigh, "I picked up your life. You... From your hair to the soles of your feet, every inch is mine."
—
Jiang Yu always remembers that rainy night. Shen was indeed like a god and a devil, lifting him up from the abyss of despair.
He gave him a new life, but also deprived him of all possibilities.
He was afraid of the bottomless possessiveness in Shen Que's eyes, the cold control under his moodiness, and even more afraid of the almost scalding illusion of tenderness after the violence.
He is a locked canary, his wings have long since degraded, and even looking up at the sky has become a luxury.
Until that day, in the secret room of the old house that Shen Que never allowed him to enter, he saw photos of himself all over the wall——
From the youthful youth, to the paleness after the car accident, to every day after being imprisoned by him.
Next to the photo, there is a dusty piano, with a worn-out piano sheet on the lid. On the title page is his immature handwriting many years ago: "To my brother Ah Que who loves me the most."
Familiar footsteps came from behind, mixed with the mountain breeze and the cold fragrance of cedar.
Shen Que hugged his trembling body from behind, resting his chin on the top of his hair. His voice was hoarse. For the first time, all cold disguises were removed, revealing the blood inside.
