The Abused Villain is Always Obsessed with Me - Chapter 29

Lu Cang’s body stiffened.

Feng Hechi, however, approached him with an unchanged expression, as if Lu Cang had imagined the words he’d just heard.

“It’s getting late. Let’s cut the cake.”

Lu Cang snapped out of his daze, picked up the knife lying nearby, and hesitated, unsure how many slices to make.

He instinctively glanced up at Feng Hechi. Noticing his gaze, Feng Hechi glanced at the already small cake.

“Just a small piece for me. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

Lu Cang hesitated. “If you really don’t like it, you don’t have to eat any.”

Feng Hechi paused, his eyes fixed on the cake, though it seemed he was looking through it at something beyond.

After a long moment, he spoke calmly, “A birthday cake would feel a bit lonely if you ate it all by yourself, don’t you think?”

Lu Cang’s eyes widened instantly.

On the rare occasions he’d had birthday cake in the past, he’d always eaten it alone.

The cloyingly sweet vegetable cream cake felt thick and heavy in his mouth, making it difficult to even swallow.

No one cared if he felt lonely sitting alone at the table eating cake, so he stopped caring too.

Lu Cang lowered his gaze, pursed his lips slightly, and cut a quarter of the cake to hand to Feng Hechi.

For the rest of the time, neither spoke, the silence so profound they could hear each other’s breathing.

Lu Cang had experienced such silences before, but this one felt the most comforting.

The wall clock ticked steadily, as if announcing the end of something.

After washing the dishes and wiping the table clean, Lu Cang realized he had grown accustomed to these chores.

As he passed the trash can, his peripheral vision caught sight of the birthday candles discarded inside.

Lu Cang stared blankly at the two candles, one marked “1” and the other “8,” for a long moment before abruptly setting down what he was holding.

He was an adult now.

Realizing this, Lu Cang turned and glanced toward the bedroom.

Then, as if having made up his mind, he walked over.

The bedroom door creaked open. Feng Hechi, who was sitting propped against the headboard, turned to see Lu Cang standing silently in the doorway, his gaze fixed on him with an unreadable intensity.

Feng Hechi narrowed his eyes slightly. “What is it?”

At his words, Lu Cang took two steps into the room, then closed the door behind him, leaning lightly against it. Throughout the entire process, he kept his head bowed, his long black hair falling past his ears and obscuring his profile, leaving his expression shrouded in shadow.

Feng Hechi watched his movements, a sudden sense of unease creeping over him.

“If you have nothing to say, leave,” he said, his voice tinged with coldness.

Instead, Lu Cang walked toward the bed, stopping half a meter away. Feng Hechi stared at him, but it was the youth’s slightly hoarse voice that broke the silence.

“I came of age today.”

Feng Hechi’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression puzzled, but he replied calmly, “Of course I know that.”

Lu Cang slowly raised his head, his eyes locking onto Feng Hechi’s.

“I said those things to you before.”

He was referring to the night they returned from the bar.

A flicker of surprise crossed Feng Hechi’s face, but he remained silent, listening intently as Lu Cang continued.

“But you didn’t distance yourself from me because of that. Instead…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but Feng Hechi already understood his meaning.

The man froze, instantly realizing what Lu Cang was thinking. He frowned, about to reprimand him, when Lu Cang suddenly reached out and pressed down on Feng Hechi’s arm, which hung at his side.

Startled, Feng Hechi quickly tried to pull his hand away, but Lu Cang had anticipated this. He knelt, pinning Feng Hechi’s wrist firmly beneath his knee.

Feng Hechi immediately raised his other hand to push Lu Cang away, but Lu Cang seized it tightly as well.

His grip was far stronger than before, and Feng Hechi couldn’t break free for a moment.

“Let go,” Feng Hechi said, his face darkening and his voice dropping several degrees.

Yet Lu Cang showed no fear. He stared intently at the man’s face, his peach-blossom eyes swirling with complex emotions, almost obsessive.

As their eyes met, Feng Hechi felt a sense of foreboding.

He had long understood just how unhinged Lu Cang could be—to put it bluntly, at times he seemed no different from a mental patient.

Once Lu Cang had made up his mind, no amount of persuasion could sway him. He seemed to shut out everything but his own will, stubbornly forging ahead regardless of others’ opinions.

It was clear this was one of those times.

Lu Cang leaned forward, pressing down harder with his knee. A sharp pain shot through Feng Hechi’s wrist as the pressure increased. Feng Hechi winced, drawing in a sharp breath.

“I’m an adult now, so it doesn’t matter what I do, right?” Lu Cang continued, his eyes fixed intently on Feng Hechi, unwilling to even blink. A smile curled at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want to do?” Feng Hechi asked, maintaining his restrained posture. His eyes narrowed slightly, but his voice remained calm, even more so than usual.

Lu Cang slowly raised his free hand and gently stroked Feng Hechi’s face. His fingers traced the cheekbones down to the jawline, cupping the face lightly. His gaze moved deliberately across Feng Hechi’s features—brows, eyes, the bridge of his nose, and the corner of his lips.

Feng Hechi heard the young man sigh contentedly.

“You’re finally… looking only at me.”

Those eyes, those eyes so beautiful they were impossible to look away from, were finally filled entirely with his reflection.

The hand continued its descent, tracing down his jawline, gliding over his Adam’s apple and collarbone, until it reached his abdomen.

The slightly cool touch roamed over his body through the thin shirt. Feng Hechi frowned but remained silent, silently experiencing the hand’s movements.

Lu Cang’s hand paused at the hem of the man’s shirt for a moment before decisively lifting it.

Warm skin met his touch.

Lu Cang’s breath hitched, his knuckles trembling slightly.

“Had enough touching?”

The man’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear, lazy, indifferent, and utterly in control.

Lu Cang froze for a second, still processing the words, when the sensation in his hand vanished abruptly. His wrist was seized in a crushing grip.

The world spun.

When his vision cleared, Lu Cang realized he had been pinned to the bed, Feng Hechi’s hand clamped around his throat.

His wrists were crossed and pressed firmly above his head. The pressure on his throat was precise, neither too tight nor too loose, the man’s knuckles resting perfectly against his carotid artery, resonating with the rhythm of his pulse.

He couldn’t muster any strength, completely pinned down.

Feng Hechi lowered his gaze, staring into Lu Cang’s eyes, and scoffed.

“Overestimating yourself.”

Immediately, he felt the pulse beneath his fingers begin to race.

Lu Cang’s eyes widened as he met Feng Hechi’s gaze, his breathing growing ragged. He had to part his lips slightly to steady his disordered breaths.

Feng Hechi gripped Lu Cang’s jaw, his thumb pressing against the youth’s soft lips, rubbing lightly. He could feel the body beneath him tremble faintly.

A smirk curled his lips. “Why so quiet? What were you planning to do?”

Lu Cang opened his mouth, but his tongue and lips felt numb, unable to form a single word.

“Just now, you seemed about to accuse me of something,” Feng Hechi said casually, his eyes fixed on Lu Cang’s expression.

“Breaking into my room late at night and locking the door, claiming I haven’t distanced myself from you…”

Lu Cang’s heartbeat nearly matched the pace of Feng Hechi’s words, a searing heat burning from his abdomen to his heart.

The man smiled, his eyes narrowing slightly as he lowered his head and leaned close to Lu Cang’s ear.

His voice was like the slow, deep resonance of a cello, a seductive whisper that seemed to heat the surrounding air.

“Do you really think I’m the one seducing you?”

The moment he spoke those words, Lu Cang’s ears began to ring, his vision flashed white, and the organs in his chest trembled violently, as if they were about to run out of energy and cease functioning.

“I…”

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sudden ring of a cell phone.

The hand gripping his neck withdrew instantly. Lu Cang instinctively reached out to hold him back, but his hand grasped only air.

Feng Hechi casually adjusted his collar, straightened up without a trace of regret, and answered the call.

Lu Cang couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end, but an ominous premonition suddenly rose in his heart.

“Mm, I understand. I’ll leave shortly.”

Lu Cang’s body froze.

The feeling that had been swirling in his heart moments before suddenly felt like a thousand-pound weight, crashing down with brutal force, dragging his still-beating heart down with it.

Feng Hechi hung up the phone and turned to see Lu Cang’s face turn deathly pale in an instant. He raised an eyebrow.

“You look terrible.”

Lu Cang glared at him, forcing out a sentence between clenched teeth.

“Where are you going at this hour?”

Feng Hechi stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly smiled. “What do you think?”

Lu Cang’s hands began to tremble. A vague suspicion had formed in his mind, but he dared not confirm it, let alone voice it.

His peripheral vision caught something he had been ignoring in the corner. Lu Cang turned his head, his pupils contracting sharply as he recognized it.

In the corner stood a suitcase.

Packed full, zipped shut, and sitting silently.

He whipped his head back to Feng Hechi.

“…What does this mean?”

“Tsk.”

The man clicked his tongue softly, his expression darkening with the familiar, long-absent annoyance that Lu Cang knew so well.

It was as if the warmth they had shared moments ago, along with all the intimacy of recent days, had been nothing but his own delusion.

“You said it yourself—you’re an adult now,” Feng Hechi said, his gaze indifferent and distant.

“Even from a moral standpoint, I no longer need to look after you.”

“Starting today, we have no connection.”

As he spoke, a cold smile curled at the corner of Feng Hechi’s lips. “Not even a nominal one.”

“…What did you say?”

Lu Cang’s face seemed to have been drained of all emotion, not even his eyelashes trembled. It was as if his soul had been extracted, leaving him to speak mechanically.

Feng Hechi, however, paid no heed to his expression. He casually walked to the corner of the room, reached for the handle of his suitcase, and said in a nonchalant tone, “You can keep this place. Considering how long we’ve lived together, I’ve paid the remaining year’s rent for you.”

Without waiting for Lu Cang’s response, he pulled the suitcase toward the door.

Lu Cang stared fixedly at his retreating figure.

The warmth of their recent intimacy still lingered on his skin, yet Feng Hechi’s current demeanor made it seem as if none of it had ever happened.

It felt like everything had returned to how it was a few years ago.

He was alone again.

While he had wished to continue living with Feng Hechi, Feng Hechi had been plotting how to get rid of him.

On his eighteenth birthday.

Feng Hechi left the bedroom and walked through the living room. As he reached for the doorknob, he suddenly heard a voice behind him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

He turned to see the youth, who had been standing motionless moments before, now standing right behind him.

He hadn’t even heard him approach.

The youth lowered his head, his raspy voice scraping against his throat, sounding like it was being forced up from the depths of his chest, sending a chill down Feng Hechi’s spine.

Feng Hechi glanced down expressionlessly at the youth’s hand.

A familiar, gleaming blade.

But this time, both Lu Cang’s stance and the grip on the hilt were several times stronger than before.

Feng Hechi knew that if Lu Cang charged now, he wouldn’t be able to dodge the blade so easily.

The blade would pierce his throat, slice through his skin, and send a spray of bl00d across the floor, staining it crimson.

It was hard to imagine that just minutes ago, Lu Cang had been gazing at him with such obsessive, yearning eyes.

Feng Hechi stared at Lu Cang’s face, his thoughts drifting.

Even among madmen, Lu Cang was in a league of his own.

Stubborn, willful, harboring intense, suffocating emotions, yet willing to destroy everything in an instant if he couldn’t have it.

“You’re going to abandon me.”

The youth spoke with unwavering certainty.

Feng Hechi turned to face him. Lu Cang slowly raised his head, his eyes, hidden beneath his bangs, fixed on him with a cold, dark intensity like an unfathomable abyss.

“So what if I am?”

Feng Hechi chuckled.

“If you were planning to leave all along, why did you stay for my birthday?”

“You don’t like those kinds of places, do you? Then why did you agree to go?”

Lu Cang’s voice was as faint as a ghost’s, his gaze empty and lost as he stared intently at Feng Hechi, almost begging for an answer.

Begging for a shred of tenderness or pity to remain in Feng Hechi’s heart for him.

But in the next moment, a scornful laugh escaped the man’s lips.

His tone was languid as he scanned Lu Cang from head to toe, his gaze contemptuous yet tinged with condescending pity.

“Because you’re so pathetic.”

At these words, Lu Cang’s grip on the knife tightened violently, his knuckles turning white as he clenched so hard he seemed determined to melt the hilt into his palm.

Pathetic.

Humbly, cautiously, begging for a scrap of kindness, treasuring that insignificant affection as if it were a priceless jewel.

Utterly pathetic.

So this was how Feng Hechi had always seen him.

From the beginning, he had only ever looked down from his lofty perch, never once meeting his gaze as an equal, not even for a fleeting moment.

Never.

He remained silent, taking a step toward Feng Hechi.

One step, two steps. When only half a meter separated them, Feng Hechi casually spoke.

“Do you want to kill me?”

Lu Cang’s hollow, icy eyes stared straight at him, offering no reply. He merely slowly raised the hand gripping the knife.

Feng Hechi no longer wanted him.

He had been abandoned.

Even though Feng Hechi was different now.

Even though he had finally, finally wanted to live with Feng Hechi.

Feng Hechi had destroyed everything.

The blade’s tip inched toward the man’s neck. Feng Hechi could feel the malevolent gaze tracing his throat, settling firmly on the carotid artery.

A split second before the blade fell, Feng Hechi calmly asked, “On what grounds are you killing me?”

Lu Cang’s movement froze mid-air, the razor-sharp tip hovering less than five centimeters from the man’s neck.

A smile curled Feng Hechi’s lips, a mixture of disdain and pity.

“You could have left the person who constantly abused and belittled you. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

As he spoke, he gently lifted his hand, grasped Lu Cang’s wrist, and with a slight exertion, pressed the stiffened arm downward.

Lu Cang’s pupils constricted sharply. The warm touch on his wrist felt like searing flames.

“You’re free now, aren’t you?”

The man’s voice, laced with amusement, drew closer until his warm breath brushed Lu Cang’s ear.

“If that’s the case, why are you so reluctant?”

“Do you really not want me to leave? Even if it means killing me?”

The deep, magnetic voice burrowed into Lu Cang’s eardrums, leaving an unreachable itch deep within.

Lu Cang’s body stiffened completely. Feng Hechi gently clasped the hand gripping the knife hilt in his palm. Though the man exerted no force, Lu Cang felt as if his strength had drained away, and the small knife slipped from his grasp.

The crisp clatter echoed through the living room, striking Lu Cang’s heart like a heavy hammer.

Lu Cang’s eyelashes trembled violently, his lips numb and unable to part.

Why?

Why didn’t he want Feng Hechi to leave?

He was right. Without Feng Hechi, Lu Cang would be free.

No more reading faces, no more hiding his emotions and racing heart, no more walking on eggshells.

He should be rejoicing.

But why, then, did he feel so unwilling?

The moment he saw Feng Hechi’s retreating figure, it felt as if a blade were carving a thousand cuts into his heart, tearing his flesh to shreds. Only one thought remained in his mind:

Don’t abandon me.

“Don’t…”

Lu Cang forced his lips to move, his voice hoarse as if scraped raw by sandpaper.

“What was that?” Feng Hechi turned his head, his gaze fixed on Lu Cang.

Lu Cang’s eyes shifted inch by inch, locking onto the man before him, straining every muscle in his body.

“Don’t go… don’t leave me behind…”

A soft chuckle drifted from beside his ear.

Feng Hechi released Lu Cang’s wrist and gently cupped the youth’s pale, bloodless cheek. His touch was feather-light, his voice equally gentle.

“Could it be… you like me?”

Even though Lu Cang had already laid bare his morbidly possessive desires and overwhelming longing, he had never uttered those words aloud.

Not only had he never spoken them, he had never even consciously considered what to call the increasingly uncontrollable emotions surging within him.

He didn’t want anyone else to approach Feng Hechi.

He didn’t want him to leave.

He wanted Feng Hechi’s eyes to gaze only upon him.

He wanted Feng Hechi’s hands to touch him.

What exactly was this feeling? What name did it bear?

Lu Cang had never pondered these questions, acting solely on instinct, like a wild dog driven by scent, heedless of consequences.

Feng Hechi’s casually uttered words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the hazy, uncertain fog that had shrouded Lu Cang’s heart, forcing reality into stark relief.

He harbored an abnormal affection for this man, far exceeding the bounds of ordinary human emotion.

In that instant of realization, the edifice of his world crumbled, all sound vanished, and the flickering candle flame that had illuminated the darkness within his heart wavered.

Then, it went out.