Just How Much Longer Can He Hold Out Without Losing Control
///
Qiu Yu sat in the front passenger seat and turned the music up to its maximum volume.
She kicked off her high heels, hugged her knees, curled up in the seat, tilted her head back, and gazed at the car’s ceiling.
After the panoramic sunroof opened, the surrounding scenery immediately came into view. The rain was growing heavier, pouring down in a steady rhythm.
Amid the dense rain and mist, countless neon lights overlapped and intertwined, forming a damp and mottled ribbon of colors.
Qiu Yu watched the raindrops splatter against the car roof, feeling an indescribable loneliness.
After graduation, many friends had gradually drifted away, but Pei Xi had always stayed in touch, inviting her out for meals every now and then.
Qiu Yu had always thought it was because of their lifelong friendship. But thinking about it now, it was probably more out of unwillingness.
—Unwillingness to accept that his once-fiancée had become Chen Cebai’s wife, giving him the humiliating sense of having his spoils of war snatched away by a commoner.
That was why he tested Chen Cebai’s limits again and again, wanting to take her back.
She was nothing more than a symbol, a representation, a trophy that had to be reclaimed.
She had never truly been Pei Xi’s friend.
Qiu Yu’s nose stung. Remembering the makeup on her face, she desperately tried to hold back her tears, but they still rolled down.
Pei Xi had torn away the fog before her eyes, forcing her to see the cruel reality—she might not have had any real friends at all.
Aside from Chen Cebai, no one ever truly looked at her; they only saw her parents, her family background, the invisible bargaining chips she carried.
Social interactions were nothing more than a measurement of the value behind her.
The moment the scales tipped out of balance, she would be discarded without hesitation.
At that moment, the car door was pulled open.
A gust of rain-laden air swept in. Chen Cebai, carrying the damp chill of the rain, got into the driver’s seat.
Qiu Yu quickly blinked away her tears and lowered her head to search for a pack of tissues, then handed one to Chen Cebai.
Chen Cebai pulled out two tissues, wiped his wet hair, and set his water-streaked glasses aside.
Qiu Yu checked the rain’s pH level and, seeing that it wasn’t acid rain, let out a sigh of relief. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve brought an umbrella to pick you up—it’s only a few steps.”
Chen Cebai took off his half-wet coat and tossed it onto the back seat. “I didn’t want you to see him again.”
Qiu Yu paused, thinking he was worried she’d feel upset seeing Pei Xi. “…It’s not that bad. I’m just surprised—he never considered me a friend.”
Chen Cebai glanced at her and said indifferently:
“Is that so? Too bad I didn’t think that much. The only reason I don’t want you to see him again is pure jealousy.”
“…Ah.” Qiu Yu blinked.
Chen Cebai wiped the rain from his fingers with the tissue. Then, he reached out, pinched Qiu Yu’s chin, leaned in, and pressed a firm kiss on her lips. His tone and movements carried an unmistakable impatience:
“As long as I see you standing next to someone else, no matter who it is, I feel jealous.”
Qiu Yu blushed deeply at his words.
Even though she already knew he was utterly shameless, expressing his emotions in a direct and unabashed manner, she still couldn’t help but feel a wave of shyness.
The next second, her face was suddenly lifted.
Chen Cebai stared into her eyes, his thumb lightly brushing against the corner of her eye. His voice carried no discernible emotion:
“Why are you crying? Because of him?”
Outside, the rain poured down in torrents.
Even with the panoramic sunroof open, the interior of the car remained dim.
Thus, Qiu Yu didn’t notice at all that the shadow Chen Cebai cast on the car’s interior was trembling and expanding, slowly morphing into a black, liquid-like metal that silently and imperceptibly proliferated outward.
It seemed as if, should she nod, it would immediately coil around her with a punishing intent.
Yet, Qiu Yu suddenly hugged him.
Chen Cebai was momentarily stunned—an exceedingly rare occurrence.
The black liquid metal halted its spread.
“…It’s not entirely because of him,” Qiu Yu murmured against his chest. “It’s more because… I just realized I might have never had a real friend.”
Chen Cebai paused for a few seconds before reaching out and embracing her in return.
Qiu Yu closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Pei Xi has known me for so long… I thought, at least to some extent, he would understand what kind of person I am. I don’t just do whatever others tell me. I simply don’t like refusing my family and friends… I don’t want to disappoint them.”
Chen Cebai said, “You can’t possibly fulfill everyone’s requests.”
Qiu Yu lifted her gaze, her eyes glistening with moisture. “…But if I don’t fulfill their requests, how will they approve of me and like me? I need their approval and affection.”
It was the first time Chen Cebai had ever seen her show such a vulnerable expression.
She was spoiled but not weak. There was a time when she was followed by a group of thugs, and when he received an alert from the tracking system, he rushed over immediately—only to find a scene of groaning delinquents rolling on the ground.
She had looked at him, puzzled as to why he was there.
At the time, their marriage was merely a cooperative arrangement; they didn’t interfere in each other’s lives.
So he never told her that he had installed a tracking system in her chip, one that would automatically alert him in case of danger. Instead, he simply said:
“I was just passing by.”
She didn’t doubt him and instead cheerfully pulled him over to assess the injuries, wanting to know if they exceeded the threshold for minor injuries.
She had always been optimistic and resilient. Yet now, she was revealing her fragile side to him.
She had no idea that doing so wouldn’t earn his pity or comfort. Instead, it would cause his desire to protect her to grow at an uncontrollable and terrifying rate.
Chen Cebai’s expression remained calm and indifferent, but his arms around her slowly became coated in a layer of eerie, cold liquid metal. A dense row of barbs emerged on the surface, pressing dangerously against her back, as if they could burst forth at any moment, mercilessly ensnaring her.
However much “affection” she wanted, he could give it to her.
She had no need for anyone else.
The mere thought that she desired others’ approval made him furious.
He wanted to punish her.
Let her understand who she truly belongs to.
For a fleeting moment, it was as if he had split into two—one was filled with malicious thoughts, while the other was the person he used to be.
Chen Cebai had always known that he would lose control one day, but he never expected that day to come so soon. Things he once endured with ease now ignited uncontrollable rage at just a glance.
Today, in the laboratory, when he saw her standing beside Pei Xi, his first reaction was to kill him.
He could have hijacked any drone near her, rewritten its base code, and made it emit targeted infrasound waves—within seconds, Pei Xi would die from ruptured blood vessels.
He could have infiltrated the company’s AI and performed subconscious reprogramming on any employee, issuing an order to “assassinate Pei Xi.”
Or he could have randomly taken control of a car, making it lose control and crash into Pei Xi.
But the thought of her sadness and grief forced him to suppress the surge of murderous intent and choose the least harmful method.
Yet still, he had made her upset.
Outside of Qiu Yu’s presence, Chen Cebai had never once felt inferior about his genes.
Only fools wallowed in self-pity. He had always accepted every change brought about by his genetic modifications—including his growing aggression.
But he never expected that when these changes only targeted Qiu Yu, they would become so filthy, so disgraceful.
Ever since the thought first crossed his mind—that she might one day cry for his sake—he could no longer suppress it. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining her reaction upon discovering his true nature.
—Would it be pity or disgust?
Would she feel fear toward these wretched, depraved changes within him?
If she saw his grotesque, monstrous form, would she turn and run, or would she force herself to endure her fear and try to comfort him?
If it was the latter, how would she comfort him?
Chen Cebai lowered his gaze to look at Qiu Yu, listening to the sound of his own ragged, heavy breathing.
Just the mere fantasy had already stirred up all sorts of deranged and terrifying thoughts.
Some of them were so twisted, even he found them sickening.
Just how much longer could he hold out without losing control?
As always, Chen Cebai’s embrace was ice-cold, yet within his arms, Qiu Yu gradually calmed down.
She sniffled, reaching for a tissue, but Chen Cebai suddenly grabbed her wrist.
That instinctive, reflexive reaction again.
Qiu Yu found it a little strange. She thought for a moment, then leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the back of his hand.
Chen Cebai stared at her, then released her wrist, pulled out a tissue, and handed it to her.
Qiu Yu smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you.”
Come to think of it, she had wanted to tell him just now—compared to other people’s approval and affection, she liked his affection more.
Every time he held her tightly, kissed her, or gripped her hand with force, she would feel an indescribable sense of security.
His love satisfied her more than anyone else’s.
But those words were far too embarrassing to say out loud, so she kept them to herself.
Qiu Yu glanced at the time on the central console and saw that there were only thirty minutes left before her interview. She quickly pushed against Chen Cebai, signaling for him to take her there at once.
However, Chen Cebai remained motionless, still staring at her.
Qiu Yu looked at him in confusion.
At some point, the panoramic sunroof had been closed. His expression was now hidden beneath the shadows, making it difficult to see clearly.
Qiu Yu asked, “What’s wrong?”
Without warning, he lifted her chin and swooped down like a violent storm, swallowing her words whole. His tongue entangled hers, sucking fiercely, while his thumb pressed against her cheek—whenever she tried to close her mouth or retract her tongue, he would pinch her face in warning.
This was not the calm and composed Chen Cebai.
This was a madman on the verge of losing control.
Qiu Yu’s eyes widened, her lashes fluttering. From her scalp to her fingertips, a tingling numbness spread as his kiss sent wave after wave of heat coursing through her.
She had no idea how much time had passed. By the time he had thoroughly ravaged every corner of her mouth, he finally released her and whispered coldly in her ear:
“You don’t seem to have been listening to me properly.”
Qiu Yu stared at him blankly, still in a daze from the lack of oxygen. “…What?”
“I told you—I even feel jealous just seeing you stand next to someone else. Why would you think that crying for Pei Xi, feeling sad for him, and telling me you need other people’s affection wouldn’t make me jealous?”
At last, he had spoken the words aloud, wrapping his vile, possessive jealousy in an unflinchingly direct tone.
Qiu Yu was already struggling against his blunt words. Coupled with her lightheadedness, it took her more than ten seconds to process what he meant. Then, feeling a bit wronged, she murmured:
“…But I need your affection too. I need it more than anyone else’s—I just didn’t have the courage to say it.”
Chen Cebai picked up his glasses and wiped the lenses, his voice indifferent. “I want you to need only me. Whether it’s affection or anything else.”
His words were forceful and utterly unreasonable.
But Qiu Yu, as if completely unaware of the dark undertone hidden within, took it as a simple love confession and agreed without hesitation:
“Sure.”
Chen Cebai put on his glasses and pressed the ignition button. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of her sweet, obedient face, and a strange, numbing sensation spread through him.
She was too accommodating toward him.
Too indulgent.
The fact that he had spiraled so far out of control had everything to do with her indulgence.
One day, when she realized what kind of monster she had nurtured, would she regret it?