The Process of Taming the Untamed Beast
///
Even though she had already guessed that he would compromise, Zhou Jiao’s heart still skipped a beat.
The scene was too overwhelming for her.
Rationally, she knew she should stay where she was and wait for Jiang Lian to come to her. The monster’s compromise was hard-won, and if she turned and went somewhere else, it could easily lead to complications, and she might continue to be pursued by Jiang Lian.
But she really, really, really wanted to know how far Jiang Lian would compromise for her.
This thought was so intense that it almost made her brain buzz, the sound of excitement rushing to the top of her head.
By the time she regained her senses, she had already turned and entered the elevator of the adjacent building.
It was called an elevator, but it was more like an iron cage. Zhou Jiao pressed the button for the top floor, and the iron grating clattered shut.
As the iron cage swayed and ascended, she smiled brightly at the covetous gazes coming from all directions.
“Tell him to meet me on the rooftop,” she said.
The elevator was painfully slow, taking a full minute to leisurely rise to the top floor.
The rooftop hadn’t been cleaned in who knows how long. Every few steps, she kicked a milk bottle, a pizza box, or a plastic bag. In the distance, the skyscrapers displayed dazzling holographic advertisements.
One of the ads featured an obese man devouring meat, the juices overflowing and filling his gaping mouth. A line of bold black text slowly appeared:
“Who told you this city no longer has real poultry?
Chiba Meat Products—we don’t sell synthetic meat, nor do we sell locust meat. We only sell the most authentic poultry!”
It was clearly a fake advertisement. Poultry was nearly extinct, and even if there were genuine poultry meat left, it wouldn’t be supplied to ordinary people.
Zhou Jiao walked to the edge of the rooftop and sat down.
From this height, she couldn’t see much. Because she was sitting so high, the slums disappeared from her view. All she could see were advertisements—vivid, distorted, exaggerated advertisements.
Advertisements filled every molecule of the air. Across from her was a cheap hotel. When the guests opened their windows, they were greeted by an advertisement with extremely high color saturation. Even if they closed the windows, the red and blue lights from the billboard would still shimmer on the glass.
Perhaps because being at a high place makes one’s thoughts wander, Zhou Jiao, sitting on the rooftop and looking down, had many fragmented images flash through her mind: the roaring subway, twisted flames, a man breaking down… and faces covered with white cloth.
They were all employees of the giant corporations, sacrifices of this city.
Zhou Jiao knew she wasn’t the one who could change the times—despite her daring to stand up to Jiang Lian, during normal work hours, when her boss asked her to stay overtime, she had never said “no.”
Moreover, over the past few decades, there had always been people resisting the corporations, but in the end, their fates were like that of the owner of the “When Will Biotech Go Bankrupt?” account—missing without a trace.
She thought that perhaps it was only when one was truly at the end of their rope that they would place their hopes on someone like Jiang Lian.
What could Jiang Lian change?
He was just a monster, unfamiliar with human emotions, incapable of keeping promises. One moment he might agree not to kill you, and the next, his hand could be around your neck.
—What could you possibly expect him to change?
Just then, a low, cold voice sounded behind her:
“What are you doing sitting there?”
Jiang Lian had arrived.
Zhou Jiao turned her head and saw Jiang Lian standing not far away, staring at her motionlessly.
Three days had passed, and the gold-rimmed glasses on his straight nose bridge had disappeared, exposing his deep, narrow eyes completely.
Whether it was because he wasn’t wearing glasses or because the aggression in his eyes had never been so blatant, Zhou Jiao felt her scalp tingle under his gaze. A burning numbness crawled up her spine to the back of her head.
Zhou Jiao couldn’t help but feel confused. Was this numbness fear, excitement, or simply… a heartbeat?
If it was a heartbeat, why was her heart racing?
Just because he had shown weakness to her?
Zhou Jiao swallowed hard, clearing away these chaotic thoughts. When she looked up, she saw Jiang Lian staring intently at her throat. As her throat moved up and down, he also made a few noticeable swallowing motions.
Zhou Jiao’s heart skipped a beat because of the powerful influence she had over Jiang Lian.
She had to admit, she liked this influence.
It gave her a sense of control, of manipulating a monster.
At this moment, Jiang Lian spoke again:
“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing sitting there.”
His gaze was terrifyingly cold, and his voice was equally icy: “I’ve already promised you I won’t kill you. That’s the only thing I’ve promised you. Even if you threaten me with your life, I won’t agree to anything else.”
Hearing this, Zhou Jiao couldn’t help but laugh.
Did he really understand what he was saying?
What he meant was clearly, “Keep threatening me, and no matter what you say, I’ll agree to it.”
And she hadn’t even uttered the threatening words yet.
Jiang Lian’s eyes grew even colder as he watched her smile, each word dripping with a terrifying chill: “What are you laughing at?”
Zhou Jiao thought for a moment, then shifted slightly forward—this was the 45th floor, with each floor being 2.5 meters high, making it a genuine hundred-meter-tall building. Even if her body had been modified, falling from here would mean certain death.
She saw Jiang Lian’s face visibly contort.
In the next moment, a cold, terrifying, and eerie low-frequency hum reverberated around them:
“Zhou Jiao, come down!”
Zhou Jiao couldn’t help but curse silently. Thankfully, she was mentally prepared, so the strange low-frequency hum didn’t affect her much. Anyone else might have been so startled they’d have fallen.
Did Jiang Lian want her to live, or did he want her to die?
But it also showed that he was truly panicked.
Zhou Jiao closed her eyes, savoring the surge of pleasure rising within her.
These past few days, she had been living in fear, running everywhere, unable to sleep, unable to stay in one place for long, cutting her own palm, wearing strangers’ clothes.
All the pain she had endured vanished the moment Jiang Lian panicked.
With a smile of pure delight, she said to Jiang Lian:
“Don’t come any closer. Take one step toward me, and I’ll move one centimeter forward.”
Jiang Lian stared at her coldly, the chilling aura emanating from his body causing a thin layer of ice to form on the rooftop.
He spoke, his voice accompanied by an extremely chaotic, extremely irritable, and extremely cold hum:
“Why should I care whether you live or die?”
Despite saying this, he remained standing in place, not moving an inch: “What does your life or death have to do with me? Do you really think I’m obsessed with your scent? The one who’s obsessed with your scent is another human, the original Jiang Lian.”
His gaze was icy, as if he wanted to peel her skin and tear out her tendons through her retinas: “I’m not interested in your scent at all. You can’t threaten me.”
Zhou Jiao smiled: “Really?”
She raised her injured hand, and almost immediately, Jiang Lian’s gaze locked onto it. His eyes were both cold and hot, piercing straight into her palm, as if he wanted to dig out the flesh and blood from her wound.
She unwrapped the bandage from her hand and, right in front of Jiang Lian, dropped it to the ground.
Jiang Lian’s gaze immediately followed the bandage as it fell, as if it had some terrible magnetic force. He couldn’t control his eyes from looking at it.
For a long while, his gaze remained fixed on the bandage. The movement of his eyes was so slow that Zhou Jiao even felt as if there were translucent threads still connecting his pupils to the bandage.
Zhou Jiao asked with amusement: “Is this what you call ‘not interested’?”
It seemed she had pushed him to the edge.
He stared at her, his eyes rapidly filling with blood, covered in horrifying crimson veins, each one writhing like an enraged tentacle.
For a few seconds, he looked as if he might lose his human form due to some indescribable madness.
Jiang Lian spoke word by word: “What exactly do you want?”
Zhou Jiao smiled softly: “I want you to step back.”
Jiang Lian’s gaze was icy, as if in the next second he would split open and release terrifying tentacles to push her off the rooftop.
However, he slowly took a step back.
At that moment, Zhou Jiao’s heart raced wildly, and an indescribable thrill exploded from her nerve endings.
—This was so exhilarating!
No wonder some people enjoyed taming wild beasts. The process of putting a leash on an untamed creature was truly thrilling to the point of making one’s scalp tingle.
Jiang Lian had been closely watching Zhou Jiao’s expression. When he saw the look of pleasure on her face, the ferocity in his eyes almost became unbearable, and he immediately stepped forward.
Zhou Jiao instantly wiped the smile off her face and snapped: “Step back!”
The air froze, the atmosphere tense, filled with a sense of imminent explosion.
Jiang Lian’s voice was icy to the extreme, no longer sounding like it came from a human vocal organ: “You won’t jump.” He paused for a long time before slowly adding, “You’re not that kind of person.”
He despised humans, had no interest in them, and considered them a small, filthy, and foul species.
Even though he was fascinated by Zhou Jiao’s scent, he saw her as nothing more than a small fish to be swallowed whole, unworthy of his attention.
But now, he was beginning to analyze her personality, saying things like “You’re not that kind of person”—words that were surprisingly human.
As a higher life form beyond human comprehension, he was beginning to try to understand and explore her actions using human logic.
This seemed to be the greatest concession he could make.
Zhou Jiao, however, retorted: “How do you know I’m not that kind of person?”
Her eyes sparkled with a sweet yet malicious smile, and she said in a light tone: “Before you appeared, I had a job, a place to live, savings, and lived an ordinary and happy life like most ordinary people. After you appeared, my peaceful life was shattered. I lost my job, my home, all my savings were frozen, and you hunted me everywhere. You have no idea how much pressure I’ve been under… I’ve dreamed of jumping from here.”
It was all a lie.
—She didn’t even bother to hide that it was a lie. The joyful laughter in her voice was almost overflowing.
She was so wicked, using her own life to toy with him, delighting in his frantic reactions.
Any creature with dignity would not listen to her and stand still.
After all, she wouldn’t jump.
He could smell her desire to live.
Her will to survive was stronger than anyone he had ever seen. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to break free from the control of his tentacles.
Moreover, compared to her survival instinct, her soul was even more indomitable.
When he gripped her neck, watching her face turn red and then blue, on the verge of death, she didn’t beg for mercy or break down in tears. Instead, she fought back with everything she had.
He didn’t really care about what she said at that moment. What truly made him let go was the look of calm composure on her face even as she approached death.
At that moment, the scent she emitted made him dizzy, desperate to press close and inhale deeply until his chest caved in.
How could someone like her choose to die by jumping off a building?
He had a thousand reasons why she wouldn’t jump, yet he still didn’t dare take a step forward.
It’s unclear how much time passed—maybe only a few seconds—before Jiang Lian finally replied, “…I won’t hunt you anymore. You can live whatever life you want.”
Zhou Jiao, however, shook her head: “You’re not human. You don’t keep promises. I don’t trust you.”
Jiang Lian’s expression instantly twisted into something terrifying: “Do you believe I’ll kill you right now?”
“Alright,” Zhou Jiao said softly, as if knowing when to stop, “don’t kill me. I’ll stop playing… Come help me down. My legs are a bit numb from sitting too long.”
Perhaps because the command to move forward was more acceptable than stepping back, Jiang Lian didn’t hesitate and walked toward her.
As he passed the bandage she had thrown down, his Adam’s apple bobbed violently. He even bent down and picked it up.
Zhou Jiao tilted her head, smiling, and extended a hand toward him.
Jiang Lian clutched the bandage in one hand and roughly grabbed her hand with the other.
It had been too long since he had touched her skin. The moment he felt the texture of her palm, a subtle electric current seemed to flow from her hand into his body, turning into a scorching, tingling sensation that rushed to the top of his head.
Cracks immediately split open on his hand, and wet, cold tongues emerged, licking her fingers meticulously.
Just tasting her fingers, he felt so satisfied that his chest swelled, and a hot, tingling flow filled every pore of his body.
The irritability that had plagued him for so long vanished instantly, replaced by a vast emptiness.
He stared fixedly at Zhou Jiao, gripping her hand roughly, his breathing erratic, his throat dry.
He wanted… to press his lips against hers.
Strangely, the urge to touch her lips was stronger than the urge to taste her saliva.
Why?
Jiang Lian stared at Zhou Jiao, slowly moving closer to her lips.
The closer he got to her lips, the tighter his chest swelled, and countless tentacle-like appendages writhed madly.
His gaze turned scorching hot, as if set ablaze, burning into her lips with a near-tangible intensity, almost scorching two holes into them.
At that moment, Zhou Jiao wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him firmly in her embrace.
Jiang Lian froze, a spasm of wild ecstasy flashing across his face.
But Zhou Jiao merely smiled beside his ear and whispered, “What should I do? I think I might have gone mad.” (TL: You were mad since the beginning….?)
Jiang Lian’s expression subtly changed, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.
“You’re right, I’m indeed not someone who would easily seek death. I dream of surviving every single day.” She spoke with a smile. “But there’s something I desperately want to confirm. If I don’t get to the bottom of it, even if I stay alive, I won’t be able to eat or sleep in peace. So…”
She murmured, “I might really be mad after all.”
Jiang Lian’s pupils suddenly contracted and then dilated. A chaotic, frenzied, almost delirious buzzing noise filled his voice:
“What are you trying to do?”
“Verify something.” She said, drawing a dagger from her boot and biting off the sheath with her teeth.
Jiang Lian instinctively thought she was going to stab him. Reflexively, he loosened his grip on her and took a step back—after all, given what he knew about her, stabbing him would have been the more predictable course of action.
However, she merely gave him a soft, shallow smile.
Her smile was breathtaking—radiant with an indescribable, dazzling charm.
When a woman’s allure exists solely for her own pleasure, it shines with a brilliance no less blinding than the scorching sun—so intense, so searing, that it stings the eyes.
She smiled so brightly, so dazzlingly, yet he felt a coldness creeping up from an abyss.
—And in the very next second, she spread her arms wide, tilted backward, and plunged straight down from the hundred-meter-high building.
At the same moment, Jiang Lian’s chest suddenly split open with a crack, and a fleshy tentacle shot out, streaking toward her at full speed.
But it couldn’t catch up.
She was falling too fast.
In another two seconds, maybe he could reach her.
But he didn’t dare take that risk.
Without a moment of hesitation, Jiang Lian leaped after her.
The wind howled past, neon lights flickered and flashed, and the glow of holographic advertisements flickered across her face in rapid succession.
Not far away, the light rail cut through the towering buildings, letting out a piercing whistle. She was like another kind of Icarus, melting and falling amidst this steel-and-neon jungle.
Jiang Lian’s gaze locked tightly onto her, the fury in his eyes more frenzied and terrifying than ever before.
But he caught up to her falling figure, holding her in an unrelenting embrace, as if he wanted to press her into his very marrow—he truly wished he could press her inside him. His upper body had already split open, wrapping her tightly within.
Yet, it still wasn’t enough.
He was still afraid she would get hurt in the fall.
At that moment, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest.
—Zhou Jiao had stabbed a dagger straight into his heart.
If he hadn’t split his body open to protect her, this crudely made blade wouldn’t have harmed him at all. It wouldn’t even have been able to pierce through the thin membrane of flesh on his surface.
But he had done it himself—he had voluntarily opened up his body and placed her right at the position of his heart.
In an instant, they landed.
Jiang Lian yanked Zhou Jiao out from his embrace, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcefully tilting her face upward. His gaze bore into her with utter emotionlessness.
At the same time, his chest writhed, the fissure splitting open once more, spitting out the dagger—now corroded into a mass of sticky sludge.
The terrifying pressure emanating from him made even the pedestrians across the street shiver.
But Zhou Jiao’s smile only deepened.
She grabbed his hand and tossed it aside, then leaned close to his ear and whispered softly:
“Jiang Lian, you wouldn’t happen to be falling for me, would you?”