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墨書 Inktalez
I didn't open the door.
He seemed to have anticipated this, raising his eyes as if to look through the peephole:
"Don't be afraid, I won't come in."
I remained silent.
After two seconds of silence, as if he had finally made a decision, he said, "I bought six percent of your company's shares."
A weight sank in my heart.
"You don't need to be surprised," he said, his tone disturbingly gentle. "I just want to protect you, to keep you from being disturbed by those chaotic people."
"For example, the man sitting across from you—what was his name? Zhao Yuan?"
I scoffed coldly, "Are you stalking me?"
"No, I'm just concerned about you." He spoke as if discussing an everyday matter. "I've already had someone investigate your 'blind date.' He has no background, his parents are divorced, and he's in debt. Your taste in men is really poor."
"We're not divorced yet." Suddenly, he raised his voice, "Are you so eager to find someone else?"
"You want to get rid of me? Too bad; no matter where you jump, I can catch you."
In that moment, I felt clearer than ever before.
Not because of what he said, but because I finally understood:
He wasn't falling apart; he was simply insane.
Insane enough to no longer hide his controlling nature, insane enough to think that 'acquisition' and 'surveillance' could pull me back into a cage.
"Cheng Jingyi," I spoke up, my voice as cold as ice. "You are no different from your father right now."
He looked stunned as if slapped.
"You are all mad," I said calmly. "It's unfortunate; I don't want any more entanglements with madmen."
"You will regret this," his voice trembled. "You have no idea who you're provoking—"
"I know exactly who I'm provoking," I replied softly. "I'm provoking the person who never truly loved me, just a madman who loves the feeling of control."
There was a dead silence outside the door.
I pulled down the peephole cover and turned away, switching off the light.
The moment the lights went out, I heard a dull thud from outside the door. I couldn't tell if he had slammed into the wall or punched it.
I chose to ignore him.
Whether he crashed into the wall or banged on the door—it no longer mattered. My world was no longer dictated by him.
After that day, he never came back. But I knew this was just the calm before the storm.
Three days later, I received a video on my phone.
Cheng Jingyi lay in a hospital bed, his face pale and his wrist wrapped in bandages. His phone was recording him from the side.
He said, "I know you hate me right now, but I really can't hold on any longer."
"I mean no harm; I just want you to know that I truly can't live without you."
"If you don't come back, I won't seek treatment. It doesn't matter anymore; my life is already ruined because of you."
At the end of the video, he stared into the camera and smiled—a smile like a drowning person grasping for a lifeline.
I turned off the video, silently saved it, and forwarded it to my lawyer.
The next day, I went to the police station to file a report.
As I handed over my phone and evidence, my hands didn’t shake. The officer watched the video, furrowed his brow, and asked me, "Are you sure you don’t want to withdraw your case?"
"Absolutely," I replied calmly. "I want to apply for a protection order."
If he tried to coerce me with threats of death, then I would let him taste the constraints of the law.
My lawyer asked, "Have you thought this through? Once you take this step, your relationship will be irreparably damaged."
"I want to sever ties," I said as I looked at him. I was done pretending and didn’t want him to keep up his facade any longer.
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